#guess it could be donut x wash if you squint

[trashinyourpockets]

Awkward.

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part two

pairing: eventual bucky x reader

warnings: some violence, trigger warning of sedation (it isn’t in there for a long time and the description of it isn’t super good BUT it’s still there), mentions of kidnapping, i think that’s it. 

word count: just a bit over 3k 

a/n: okay! here’s part two, i’m experimenting with the longer parts, so let me know what y’all think of it. bucky does make an appearance soon, i swear y’all :) just be patience with me babes. also, i know this isn’t like the typical fan fic because it isn’t in the second person but we’re powering through together. i hope y’all enjoy babes <3

p.s.: if y’all want to be added to a tag list for this series, shoot me a message and we’ll get it worked out 

series m.list

ray’s m.list

*****************

I shot up from my bed, eyes wild and frantic searching for anything to ground me to my current surroundings. It was just a dream, just a dream. It was just a dream. Except it didn’t feel like a dream. Everything was too detailed, too crisp for it to have really been just a dream. I swung my legs off my bed and grabbed a hold of the fluffy white comforter. Groaning, I pushed my feet to touch the cold hardwood of my apartment. I made my way towards my kitchen and my coffee maker. I popped a breakfast blend K-cup into the slot and dumped a mug full of water into the side of the machine. Pressing the button, I turned while listening to the coffee machine force the water through the coffee grounds and filter and into my cup.

Looking out into my living room, I eyed my couch. It was intact with no bullet holes riddling the cushions. It was still the pristine white that I’ve spent many nights curled on watching movies. The dark stained wood coffee table in front of it brought memories of long study sessions with books and loose papers strewn across it. A faint smile graced my lips as I was reminiscing. The black coffee maker spit the last of the dark substance into my mug, so I reached into my cabinets and pulled out the essentials. I’ve never been one for pure black coffee, tastes like tar in my opinion. The aftertaste isn’t something that I want to deal with for as long as it’ll last.

I dumped two spoonfuls of sugar into the cup and then poured a dash of liquid creamer in along with it. Stirring the now light brown liquid, I raised the mug to my mouth and took a much needed sip. Sighing as I swallowed, I walked around to the couch in the living. Plopping down, I kicked my feet to rest on top of the coffee table. Leaning back against the cushions, I tried to process what my dream was about.

It was just too real to be a dream, right? It was awfully specific to be a dream. Squinting my eyes, I nodded my head and set my mug on the table. Reaching for my laptop and opening the first browser I could, I searched ‘dream analysis.’ Maybe they’ll have something that can give me an answer as to why it was so clear. Scrolling down the first website, my eyes scanning the bolded letters. Nine Common Dreams and What They Could Mean, oh perfect. Flying, being naked in public, teeth falling out, cheating, none of these are like my dream. I shook my head and swiped out of the website and back to the search engine.

It was late in the morning and the sun was rising to its peak when I finally gave up. It’s obvious what happened though, I’ve gone mental. Absolutely insane, just plain certifiable. No, no, that’s not what it is. My coffee now gone cold, I placed my closed laptop on the coffee table next to the discarded coffee mug. I stood and my head started throbbing. Deciding I would have a better outlook on things without a pounding head, I took a shower. The water was a pleasant, scalding temperature. Leaving the bathroom with my hair in a towel and another wrapped around my body, I changed into a simple pair of ripped mom jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Hanging my towels on the rack in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and then turned out the light as I left.

Today was my one day off of work this week and I was going to savor it. Slipping on a pair of ratty sneakers and grabbing my purse from the hook next to the door, I left my cozy apartment. I locked the door and shoved my keys all the way to the bottom of my purse. I left my building with the intention of trying to shake off the nightmare that I had. To do so, I went into the coffee shop at the end of the block. I pushed the doors open and was greeted with a warm and inviting atmosphere. Dark floors gave way to twinkling lights illuminating the charcoal gray walls. Behind the counter, I make eye contact with the barista and receive a tight-lipped smile from him. “Hi, welcome to Beniot’s Beans. What can I get started for you today?”

I glanced at the chalkboard menu and ran my eyes over it quickly. I already knew what I wanted, but I needed to prepare myself to say it out loud. “Hello, can I get a medium caramel iced coffee to go, please?” I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet as he scribbled my order onto the clear plastic cup. He told me my total as I looted in my wallet for my bills. After placing the money in the register, he explained that they would call my order when it was ready. I nodded and walked off to find somewhere to sit that was out of the way. After situating myself on one of the comfortable armchairs, I pulled my phone out in an effort to discourage human interaction. After retrieving my order from the counter, I sat back down in the armchair, trying to decide what to do next. The hour was just rolling over to being almost lunchtime, which made me realize that I hadn’t eaten anything yet. Shrugging my purse back onto my shoulder and shoving my phone into it, I left the store throwing a small wave to the barista behind the counter.

Sighing contentedly, I made the trek back to my apartment while steadily drinking the iced coffee. Some people say coffee shouldn’t be cold, and then there’s people who have sense. Giggling to myself, I took in my surroundings. Brick buildings lined the small two-way road. The donut shop on the opposite side of the street had two cop cruisers sitting in front of it. The contrasting black and white paint with black lettering outlined in yellow was intimidating. There was no reason for it to be, but there was just an aura of discomfort encapsulating the cars. By this time, I had stopped, slurping on my almost empty iced coffee. Breaking out of my trance with a ring of a bell, four officers exited the donut shop. Two of the officers held off-white cardboard boxes, they were all laughing at something. I tilted my head and scrunched my brows, guess the stereotype about cops is true, they love their donuts. Sensing a stare, one of the officers looked around for the source. Eventually, our gazes locked and he winked. Uh, ew. Making a face, I shook my head and went about my way back to my apartment.

Despite that experience, it was nice to be able to have no specific agenda, just relaxing and going with the flow. My inner monologue stopped when I got to my kitchen and started deciding what to prepare for lunch. Finally landing on a box of macaroni and cheese to satisfy my hunger, I set to work. The pot of water now on the stove, I tossed my empty plastic cup from the coffee shop into the garbage bin. I went around to my living room and grabbed my coffee mug from earlier and placed it in the sink, after rinsing it out. I’ll wash that and the stuff I use for lunch after I finish eating. I dumped the box of uncooked noodles into the now boiling water. Soon, the macaroni was ready to be eaten, so I poured the cheesy noodles into a bowl. Hoisting myself onto the granite countertop, I began to inhale the food. Wow, okay I was hungrier than I thought. It didn’t take long to finish off the noodles. As I was washing the dirty dishes, the intercom system of the apartment went off. Weird, I wasn’t expecting anyone. “Who is it?” I inquired into the speaker box. “Hi, I’m looking for the inhabitant of this flat.”

My brows furrowing, I asked again, “Who is this?”

“Ma’am, please don’t waste my time or yours. Is this the woman who lives in this apartment, yes or no?” They sounded exhausted. “I need to speak with the woman who lives here.” I was shocked, this didn’t seem right. Alright, I’m a woman living alone in an apartment building. Some stranger comes to my building, asking to speak to me, so what do I do?

“Uh, yeah they’re not here. You’ll have to come back later.” The lie was easy. Safety first and all, right? There was no reply after waiting a few minutes, so I went back to doing my dishes. After drying and putting them away, I kicked my shoes off and settled into my couch with a fluffy blue throw. Flicking the TV on, I picked the home improvement channel. I stretched out on the couch while wondering how realtor Bessie May was going to find this couple the perfect home. Snuggling further into the pillows, I was able to drift off into a dreamless slumber.

*********************************

It was loud banging that eventually roused me. Untangling myself from the fluff that wrapped around my legs, I toppled onto the floor. “I’m coming, hold your horses!” I shouted at the door. Who the hell? I swear if it’s my crazy neighbor again. “Marge! If this is you, we are going to have a problem!” I huffed my way to the door and yanked it open to reveal a group of men in what looked like dark tactical gear. Confusion overtook my facial features. I took a step back and tightened my grip on my door knob.

“Um… hi? Can I help you?” I questioned the group at large.

“Ma’am, we’re looking for the permanent resident of this apartment.” The man to my left said. He was short and stocky, he was also the only man wearing a dark gray suit. “Are you the permanent resident of this unit?” He continued while trying to see over my shoulders and into the living room.

“No, they’re not here right now.” I repeated the lie from earlier. I had an inkling this had to do with that, what else could it be?

“Well, do you know when she’ll be back?” He pressed, still stealing glances into my abode.

“No, she didn’t say. You’ll have to come back later. Goodbye.” I stated while closing the door. I was almost home free until a combat boot clad foot was stuck into the door frame.

“You see ma’am, this really isn’t the time to be lying to me.” The suited man explained. I took a deep breath and continued trying to close the door.

“Well, I’ve already told you all I know. The person who owns this place isn’t here right now.” The door was stopped yet again by the same foot.

“Ma’am, you need to invite us inside. We have things to discuss.” Suits ordered.

My brows raised, “Or what?” I scoffed, “Look you need to leave before I call the police. Good day to you gentlemen.” Another attempt to close the door was once again defeated, but this time the door swung in. Allowing entrance into my apartment. My eyes widened and I rushed away from the door, putting as much distance between the group of men and myself.

“What the hell are you doing! I’m calling the police.” I reached for my phone that was laying on the coffee table. It was snatched away from me by a man in tactical gear. His hair was cropped and dark, he slipped my phone into one of the many pockets of his vest. I raised my eyebrows at the man, and began demanding my phone from him.

“Listen ma’am, we’re going to need you to come with us.” Suits insisted. My gaze darted to him, if looks could kill man. “We’re allowing you the privilege of getting a bag of your necessities.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my ever rising nerves. I brought the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to clear the fogginess of sleep to process what Suits was saying. “We don’t have all day. Get your stuff now.” I shook my head and started refusing.

“Yeah, that won’t be happening. I’m asking you one last time to leave my apartment before I start screaming.” I crossed my arms over my chest in a protective stance. They’ve got five seconds before I raise hell. Suits made a face that looked like he was disappointed.

“Grab her.” The man who took my phone advanced at me. His whole hand covered my upper arm, lifting it and beginning to drag me to the door. I started kicking out, clawing, trying to make contact with anything that I could hurt. Damage, don’t stop fighting. Don’t give in. Whipping my upper body around, I managed to scratch the man's cheek. He cried out in pain and his grip loosened for just a moment. Long enough for me to wrench my arm away from him and run towards the front door. My path was interrupted by a wall of a man. Towering over me, he wrapped both of his arms around my torso. Effectively stopping all of my movement while he turned me in his grasp to face Suits once again.

“Help! Someone help me! Help me!” This was a quiet enough building, shouts like that would surely gain someone’s attention, right? “Help! Someone help me, please!” I was screaming my throat sore. Not stopping until there was a large hand placed over my mouth. Even then, there were muffled cries that could be heard throughout my otherwise silent apartment unit. Stifled sobs were leaving my lungs in heaves. Suits approached me and shook his head,

“It really didn’t have to be like this but, of course.” He turned to one of his goons and nodded his head towards me. I began screaming again as the final goon stepped forward. His hair was slicked back and I could smell the hair gel that he must have just dipped his head into. Hair Gel reached into his pocket and brought out a small white case.

He unzipped the case and gestured to the mass of a man behind me. My head was moved to expose my neck, I struggled against Mass while Hair Gel approached. Screaming and thrashing trying to disrupt what I thought was about to happen. Hair Gel assembled a syringe, outfitting it with a blue capped needle. Hair Gel extracted a clear liquid into the syringe, he got closer to my jolting body, glaring at Mass.

“Hold her still, you buffoon.” He grunted at Mass. The grip around me began cutting off my circulation to the lower half of my body. Not deterring me in any way, I still made it as hard as I could for Hair Gel. There was a pinch on the side of my neck, and then a warm feeling passed through my body. Mass’s hand was still covering my mouth and his arms around my torso, if it weren’t for that I probably would’ve fallen straight to the ground. Oh hell man, what am I going to do now?

My body went limp in Mass’s hold, and my mind was starting to become fuzzy. Looking around at the three men in front of me, I worried what was going to happen. I’ve seen Taken. I know what happens to girls who travel alone. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to people like me. Suits sighed yet again, looking disinterested in the whole affair. Suits looked to the man who I scratched and shook his head at him.

“You seriously let her get her hands on you?” Suits mocked, “That’s pathetic, Gomez.”

“Pathetic? She was clawing me, man!” The man, Gomez, defended.

“It doesn’t matter, you idiot. You still aren’t supposed to let it happen.” Suits berated Gomez and then waved him off, “Go get the stuff. And don’t mess it up this time, ya got that?” Gomez rolled his eyes at Suits, but nodded anyway. He left the room towards my bedroom. My eyelids started drooping, I willed them to stay open a bit longer.

“How long’s it gonna take that stuff to kick in?” Suits asked Hair Gel.

“Oh, it starts working immediately.” Hair Gel finished replacing everything in his white case, turning to me, he continued, “The body reacts to the compound right away, inducing temporary paralysis. It’s really quite remarkable to watch it in action.”

Suits glanced at Hair Gel, “You mean to tell me it doesn’t make them unconscious? What the hell did I bring you along for?”

“Of course it makes the victim unconscious, what do you think I’m stupid or something? It just takes a couple of minutes for the enzyme to break down for the brain.” Hair Gel tilted his head while looking at me. He gave me a once over and if I had any kind of control over my body, there would’ve been an unmistakable shiver that passed through my body. Gomez emerged with a duffle in tow and dumped the closed bag on the couch.

“Don’t forget the laptop, Gomez.” Suits reminded him while his attention was on the kitchen of my apartment. “Alright, let’s go.” With the effort it takes to lift a feather, Mass carried me bridal style out of my unit. My eyelids were becoming even more heavy and I screamed and shouted in my head, but my mouth just wouldn’t move. The four men made their way out, passing my crazy neighbor Marge.

“Can I help you boys with something?” Marge’s door was open, and she leaned up against the frame, watching this scene go down.

“Nothing to be worried about ma’am. This is official government business.” Suits reported, simply shrugging off Marge.

“Government business?” Marge shrieked, and a glimmer of hope flashed in my head. Marge won’t fall for your bullshit Suits. She’s going to save me. “I always knew there was something off about that one.” What the hell, Marge?

“Like I said ma’am, nothing to worry about. Now if you would, just go back inside. We’re done here.” Suits advised. Marge, who was none the wiser, bounced her shoulders and turned back into her own unit. She could be heard through the door explaining to her guests that her next door neighbor was always strange and never really sat right with her.

“Doesn’t surprise me they’re taking her away. I always knew something was off about that girl. I told you so.” Marge howled with laughter after her statement. My last hope dashed by my crazy neighbor’s complete ignorance and lack of acknowledgement for her surroundings. Mass began his descent of the stairs with a steady pace. The constant rocking back and forth of his body weight served to lull my eyelids the rest of the way closed.

[nct-bliss]

Feels like Home

NCT Female Subunit AU

OT6 x NCT 127

Just before their debut in 2017, BLISS is moving into a new dorm with help from the oldest members.

(Also note: I changed Dasom’s name to Kayo because I wanted her to have a Japanese name)

“Woah~! Look at this place!” Yunhee squealed, holding out her phone’s camera above her as she twirled. “It’s amazing!”

“Yah, put that away and help,” Doyoung scolded lightly with a laugh. “You can vlog later.”

“Right, right, sorry, Oppa,” She giggled, pocketing her phone. She moved to join him behind the kitchen counter where he was organizing dishes, cutlery, and other things that belonged there. “I’m just so excited!”

“Same!” Minji chimed in, entering with a medium-sized duffle in her arms. “I just still can’t believe we’re debuting soon.”

Johnny followed her, carrying a rather large box. “Is that easier to believe than the fact that you’re joining a boy group?” He joked.

The girls laughed. “Honestly yeah.”

Aria came in, yawning as she stretched her arms. “I’m just happy that we’re not in that tiny ass dorm anymore,” She admitted.

“Sharing a room with so many people,” Minji sighed.

“Fighting for the bathroom with 10 girls everyday,” Yunhee added.

Doyoung laughed, reaching around Yunhee to place a pile of plates into the top cupboard. “Well, now you just have to fight amongst each other.”

“We’ll brawl every morning,” Aria laughed, jokingly pointing her fingers in a “I see you” way at Yunhee, who squinted.

“Oh, where does this go?” Minji interjected, gesturing at a lone box that sat in the far right corner of the room.

“Uh, I think that’s Jiwoo’s,” Johnny replied.

“Jiwoo!” 

Two seconds later, their rapper appeared in the most dramatic look she could have. She was wearing protective gloves, a mask, and a headband over her dark hair. An apron was tied over the front of her outfit.

Jiwoo tugged her mask down. “What’s up?”

The group just stared at her before Aria and Johnny burst into laughter. Then the rest of them joined. “What?” She repeated, chuckling a bit too.

“You’re ridiculous,” Minji giggled. “You do know this is an apartment we’re cleaning, not a warehouse?”

Jiwoo rolled her eyes as their laughter increased even more, Yunhee even doubling over. “I’m just taking safety precautions.”

“Well, you’re the only one...so I think it’s just a you problem,” Johnny snickered.

Just as the words left his mouth, Taeyong came in holding a broom and dressed in attire identical to what Jiwoo was wearing.

“Nevermind,” Johnny muttered, as the girls and Doyoung tried to hold in their laughter.

Taeyong removed his gloves and moved to the sink to wash his hands. “The rooms are all dusted and wiped clean, so we can start bringing stuff in.”

“Yay! Thanks, Oppa!” The girls chorused.

“And Jiwoo,” He added with a laugh.

“Thanks, Jaycee~” They sang teasingly.

Jiwoo groaned, peeling off her own gloves and protective attire before washing her hands. “I hate you three. Where are my sweet, adorable children?”

“They went out with Yuta to get some “important stuff,” Johnny replied. “Probably just some small furniture or something.”

“Honestly, this place came pretty equipped even before we brought stuff in...” Minji trailed off, looking around. “I don’t think we need much more.”

“There’s even a toaster, blender, and rice cooker already,” Yunhee added. “We just need to get groceries.”

“Once again, shout-out to your parents, Ari,” Jiwoo said, plopping down into a seat between her and Johnny on the couch. “That was so sweet of them to get all these appliances and furniture.”

“Yeah, seriously, that was awesome.”

“I hope our thank-you letters were good enough.”

Aria tossed a pillow at Minji. “Of course they were! And really, it’s the least my family could do. They wanted to outright buy us an apartment actually.” She laughed.

“Aww...”

“I’m actually a little jealous,” Doyoung joked. “This dorm is so much nicer than ours.”

“Yah, that’s because we’re girls and need more space,” Jiwoo retorted playfully.

“You guys can live anywhere and make it work,” Aria chimed in. “We need luxury.”

The others burst out laughing while Johnny put an offended hand to his chest. “Wow, what are you trying to say?” He faked sounding hurt.

“I mean...they’re not wrong,” Taeyong laughed, putting both arms around the two girls who smiled. “Excluding me, of course.”

“Oh definitely,” Jiwoo and Aria agreed. “Only Taeyong-oppa is closer to our level.”

“Wow...” Johnny and Doyoung shook their heads in simultaneous disappointment.

The group talked together and finished setting up the kitchen before their other members finally returned.

“We’re home!” Yuta’s voice boomed through the apartment from the front, where they were taking off their shoes.

“This isn’t your home!” Taeyong called back. “And where have you three been?”

 As usual, Kayo was the first to approach everyone, quick on her feet. She held out a box of donuts as well as bag filled with other snacks. “We brought back food!” 

“What kind?” Yunhee questioned. 

“Chicken and tteokbokki?”

She extended a hand. “Give to us.”

She handed it over to them without hesitation, giggling at the way her unnie’s faces lit up at the sight of the bag’s contents.

Their young maknae was the next one to pop in, giving a hug to Taeyong as she greeted everyone shyly, a hat covering her face slightly. “Ah, we’re a bit late because we got lost.”

“Lost..?”

“Yeah, we-”

Yuta then came in, holding what looked like three yoga mats, an ice cream maker, and two other bags. “Wow, the place looks great!” He commented.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Doyoung chided in his usual dryly-dramatic manner. He stood up, gesturing at him. “Of course you took them out for fun while we did hard work!”

Bliss tried to hold in their laughter, but once again, could not. An angry Doyoung was really entertaining.

“What did you even get?” Minji asked, peering at the two bags. “Are those...pudding cups?”

“Are you kidding me-”

“It was Kayo’s idea!” Yuta tried to defend himself, putting them down. “I can’t say no to her!”

“Don’t blame me,” Kayo said casually, grabbing a pudding cup.

“No, it’s time to eat.” Taeyong gently took it out of her hands, laughing a little at the pout she gave him. 

“Wait, how did you guys get lost again?” Aria asked.

“We took a wrong turn...eight different times.”

“Wha-”

“Listen, all three of us are foreigners!” Kayo exclaimed. “We don’t know anything!”

Johnny ruffled her hair. “Kayo, baby, you can’t pull the foreigner card when you’ve lived and trained here for 3 years.”

She pouted and just leaned her head into the side of his jacket.

“Can we eat now?” Jiwoo begged. “That chicken smells so good.”

“I agree!” 

“No, Yuta, you three can eat last,” Doyoung said.

“Why?!”

“For going on a get-away trip instead of cleaning the apartment?” Minji guessed with a laugh.

“Yah, this is unfair treatment,” Kayo complained.

“Lian can get food first, though,” Aria declared.

“What? Why her?!”

“Because she’s the baby and she’s sweet, you menace.”

Lian laughed, watching all her members playfully argue. Kayo was trying to tackle Aria, who was cackling as Yuta held her back, Jiwoo was recording everything while Yunhee took selfies with Johnny and Doyoung was yelling...

“Hey.” A hand gently rested on her head, and she looked up to see Taeyong smiling at her. “What are you thinking?”

She leaned against him, pausing to get a grasp on the Korean words she needed. “I think...this all feels just like home. A new... loud and crazy one. But a home regardless. And I’m happy.”

He beamed. “I’m so glad.”

[juniperjoon]

Restless Minds || Yoongi x reader

Summary: Who would have guessed when you’d left your apartment that morning at 4am that you’d meet another wandering soul down at the end of a rotting wooden pier.

Genre: fluff, angst (if you squint really hard)

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: smoking, light swearing

Black waves washed over the shore in their never-ending dance of push and pull, sighing as they kissed the sand only to return to out to sea. Stars danced against a background of deep blue and indigo, mixed with the orange glow radiating from the city lights behind you. A gentle breeze had set in, the salty tang of the sea carried on its gusts. It wasn’t quite warm out, but the jacket around your shoulders kept the chill from seeping into your skin.

You’d settled on a bench out at the end of a pier that reached into the water like a long wooden arm. From that spot you silently observed the waves as they continued to flow against the sand, the swoosh of the water lulling your tense muscles into relaxation. 

You had no idea just how long you’d been seaside. It had to have been at least an hour, right? But with your phone sitting uselessly in your apartment, there was really no way to know. The only thing you’d bothered to grab before heading out was a lighter and cigarettes of a... different kind.

Sleep was like a stubborn child most nights, never coming when called. Last night was no exception. After several hours of fitful, half-assed rest, you’d finally given up. It was only 4am when you decided to head out, but it was either leave or go stir crazy. Since the latter was physically impossible without spontaneously combusting, you made do with the former.

You hadn’t necessarily intended to go to the beach, that was just where you’d happened to end up. You weren’t complaining though. Sea and sand and whispering wind beat laying in bed staring at the ceiling any day.

After a long while, as though after careful deliberation of whether or not you would actually do it, you tugged out the contents of your pocket. One flick of the lighter and a quick puff later, the end of the joint glowed to life in the surrounding darkness. Lungs now full of smoke, you allowed the familiar comfort of your buzz to wrap around you like a favorite sweater. The qualms within your mind were expelled at once. The smoke drifted past your lips on a contented sigh and disappeared into the night. You were about to take another pull off the joint when a voice quipped up behind you.

“Isn’t it a little early to be smoking?” it asked. Spooked, your head whipped around to see a young man with skin like cold marble as he stopped right behind the bench. Mint green sprigs of hair poked out from underneath a midnight blue beanie and an old zip-up clung to his slender frame. Curiosity swirled in depths of his eyes, which were so dark they appeared to be no more than glinting slivers of obsidian.

“Never,” you sarcastically shot back after a moment. As if to make a point, you took in a lungful of smoke while continuing to look directly at him. The boy didn’t answer, only chuckled. A faint smile ghosted the corners of his mouth. He rounded the bench and came to a stop right beside you, glancing down.

“Care if I join you?” he asked. You nodded absently before your attention turned back to the horizon. Hues of lavender had just started to peak out over the water. 

“Thanks,” he let out as he took the seat beside your own. He spoke from his chest, low and thoughtful and smooth like velvet. But there was a sort of aloofness to him. You got the impression he found more solace in his own company than in a room full of people. 

“Do you have another one of those, by chance?” he asked, indicating the joint in your hand. 

“Says the guy who was just criticizing me for smoking,” you laughed. Smirk forming across his face, the man ducked his head.

“Does that make me a hypocrite?” he mused. 

“Only a little,” you answered before offering up the case. He gratefully accepted it before he pulled the last joint free from the box and set it casually between his lips. The deftness with which his slender fingers handled the joint told you that he, too, was no stranger to taking comfort in THC’s calming embrace.

Thumb poised to flick the lighter to life, you held it out towards the man. The tiny orange flame that sprung forth sent soft, dancing rays of light across the his face, accentuating every fine detail. 

As he leaned forward to light his joint, you couldn’t help but notice the gentle sweep of his lips or the high cheekbones that seemed to reach towards the heavens. His honied complexion held a slight flush, emphasized by the glow of your lighter. He looked like a magnificent sculpture that belonged in an art museum, not on sitting on a bench on a rotting wooden pier so early in the morning.  His obsidian eyes caught yours as he studied you just as intently, causing your chest to pull tight. The boy leaned back and casually crossed one leg over the other as he took the first deep drag.

“I’m Yoongi, by the way,” he stated suddenly as his flicked his ashes off to the side. His head swung around lazily as the extended the hand not otherwise occupied towards you, slender fingers stretched in greeting. Even his hand looked like something that the gods had to have painstakingly carved into the finest stone.

“(Y/N),” you replied before accepting his outstretched hand. His fingers were cool to the touch, but they weren’t smooth. They were working hands. You found the juxtaposition of his callused fingers and his delicate features to be that much more intriguing.

Yoongi smiled. It was the kind of smile that barely graced his expression, but it still radiated a nearly palpable warmth. Almost involuntarily, you found that a smile of your own had made its way to your lips. In the warm, rosy glow that climbed ever so slowly over the horizon, you could see that Yoongi’s eyes were not truly cold shards. Rather, they were deep chestnut pools, the depths of which you couldn’t help but be lost.

Your hand retracted, as did his, and comfortable silence fell like a blanket over the both of you. The only audible sound was was that of the waves, their murmurs hushed as they continued to flirt with the sandy shore.

While the lull in conversation stretched on, the pale gray of morning eagerly broke into much prettier shade of lavender and pink. You couldn’t help but stare as morning chased the indigo of night across the sky. It was Yoongi who decided to break the silence.

“So, [Y/N], I gotta ask,” he began amid a wisp of smoke, “what brings you all the way out here at the ass crack of dawn?” Yoongi’s lips curled into an amused sort of smirk.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you mused, gaze still focused on the rising sun.

“That’s true, but believe I asked you first,” he jabbed, mischief winding itself into his grin.

“What is this,” you asked impishly, “middle school?”  

‘Eh’, Yoongi seemed to say as he shrugged. You pulled another hit from your joint, letting the smoke out before finally answering.

“Couldn’t really sleep last night," you told him. "Certainly couldn’t stay in my apartment much without exploding, either. So, here I am.” Another hit. Sympathy radiated in the nod of Yoongi's head.

"It sounds like you have a touch of insomnia, (Y/N),” he teased.

“Sounds about right,” you admitted satirically. 

“Restless soul?”

“Only always,” you sighed. Your attention flipped back to the young man on the other side of the bench “What about you? What’s your story?” 

Yoongi’s nose scrunched as he shrugged. “It’s about the same as yours. Tired as hell but can’t seem to fall asleep.”

“Well I’m glad I could at least offer some decent company,” you replied earnestly.

Silence fell over the two of you once again, and stretched on as morning bathed the world in light. In the distance, the first golden rays of true, honest sunshine poked over the horizon. You took one final hit of your joint before snuffing it out against the arm of the bench. 

“I do believe that’s my cue,” you stated, standing and stretching out your stiff limbs. In reality, though, the idea of going back home was unpleasant to say the least. At that moment, what you desired more than anything (right after staying at the edge of the ocean watching the sunrise forever), was a good, steaming cup of coffee. Not to mention you had the munchies like nobody’s business.

“Hey, there’s a little place downtown that sells the best chai lattes you will ever try,” you quipped to the man beside you. “Think I could talk you into coming with?”

Yoongi smirked. “An argument could be made,” he replied smugly. “Only if you let me pay. I owe you for that joint.”

“No objections here,” you shot back with a grin.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Morning still had a ways to go before becoming noon by the time you walked into the tiny cafe, but the sun was certainly higher than it had been on the pier. Tiny bells chimed as you walked through the door, and you were greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans and baked goods.

Two chai lattes and a half-dozen donuts later, the pair of you made your way to a table near the back of the shop to enjoy your wake and bake breakfast in peace. 

You pulled off your jacket, and Yoongi soon followed with his own hoodie to reveal a plain, white t-shirt underneath. The light fabric did nothing to mask all the sharp angles of his slender frame. You waited until you were both settled into your seats before speaking again.

“So, Yoongi, what do you do for a living,” you queried around a mouthful of sprinkles. Yoongi, who was already just about halfway through his first donut, shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Nothing special really,” he answered, words muffled by the pastry, though he swallowed before continuing. “I work for this little delivery company here in the city. Nine-to-five kind type deal. It’s mostly just a steady source of income while I work on the side hustle.”

“Which is?”

The man across from you sipped his coffee hesitantly. “I- uh- I’m an underground musician, believe it or not,” he said. “Rapping, writing, producing, the whole nine.” Nervously, he took another sip from the cup.

Normally you weren’t one to gawk, but the confession had your eyebrows nearly disappearing into your hairline. Suddenly, a whole new list of questions sprung to mind. The only thing that actually managed to escape was a soft ‘whoa’.

“That’s... incredible,” you breathed, thoughts barely strung into proper phrases. 

“I guess,” Yoongi returned. His ego swelled within his chest, if only fractionally, at the your praise, though it was more amusing than anything else. “It’s not a great way to make a living- that’s why I’ve got the delivery job- but music is just something I’ve always had a passion for.” 

“And here I am with a dead-end diner gig,” you laughed nervously. “But I guess we can’t all be music stars when we grow up.” Yoongi let out a breath of a chuckle.

"I wouldn’t really call myself a star. Not yet anyways,” he mused before grabbing a second donut from the box. “Hell, I haven’t even put out a full mixtape yet.” 

“To be fair, I can’t imagine making music is all that easy,” you offered, stuffing another bite of pastry into your mouth. Maybe it was just the paranoia setting in, but you could have sworn a few of the other patrons had sent disapproving glances your way. Eh, who cared if they did anyway, they were just jealous.

���You’d be right about that one,” Yoongi chuckled, bringing your attention back to the conversation. He leaned back in his chair a bit, a hand coming up to rub at his tired face. “Truth be told, I’ve just been so stuck in this rut lately. When I’m not working I’m either asleep at home or in the studio trying to finish putting together a real tracklist.” He counted off each of the options on his fingers before taking a long swig of latte as if it were washing down some of the bitterness hidden beneath his words. 

“Sounds vexing,” you said sympathetically before taking a sip of your own coffee.

“Understatement of the century,” Yoongi sighed. “The problem is that sometimes, even when all I want to do is write, I have no fucking clue what to write about, ya know? One person can only stare at a blank sheet of paper for so long before going insane.” 

“Maybe you just need a break,” you suggested. “Or some new inspiration.”

“Why do you think I was out at the beach at too-damn-early o’clock this morning?” he joked back. You raised your hands in defense.

“Hey, it’s none of my business how you live your life,” you shot back. Yoongi only laughed. He had an incredibly bright smile, you noticed almost in spite of yourself. It was the kind of contagious smile that lit up a room and made you feel about ten degrees warmer. You got the feeling not many were given the opportunity to see this laid back, open side of Yoongi; you were glad to be one of the privileged. 

Conversation was easy the rest of the morning. You talked about your plans to make it into a decent college so that you could make a future that didn’t involve working at the same diner forever, and Yoongi talked about his to one day make it big in the music scene. He told you of his friends that were also trying to get there with him, and how they all leaned on each other for support, and how he wished more than anything to see them all succeed. Honestly, hearing the passion with which he spoke of music and of his friends, you couldn’t help but wish the same for them. By the time the coffees were gone and only a few donuts remained in the box, it was nearly 11 o’clock. 

You were in no rush to go home though, and it seemed Yoongi wasn’t either. But the baristas were genuinely starting to give you dirty looks as you continued to take up oh-so-valuable space. Because of this, you finally asked the question that had been buzzing around the back of your mind for the past hour.

“Yoongi,” you began carefully, “where’s your studio?” Preoccupied with licking the frosting clean from his fingers, Yoongi looked up at you with the faintest air of shock. 

“My studio?” he queried. Yoongi shrugged before answering with, “There’s this little music store down the road from where I live. The lady that owns the place rents out a recording booth in the back. She usually lets me and the guys come in after hours. Why do you ask?” he finished, looking puzzled.

“Well,” you lead uncertainly, “I’d very much like to see it some time, if you’re okay with it that is. Obviously if it’s too much to ask-”

“Yes,” he stated simply. You froze, unsure of what he meant.

“I’m sorry?” 

Yoongi must have picked up on your hesitation, because his face quickly broke into a gummy smile. 

“I mean, yes, you can see it some time,” he explained. Even more dumbfounded, you continued to stare at him from across the table. 

“Really?” you breathed, unable to hide the grin that spread to match Yoongi’s. It almost felt like you were being gifted with something wonderful and were expecting someone to snatch it away. But no one did.

“Yeah, really,” Yoongi chuckled at your sudden excitement. “I need a fresh opinion on the songs anyways, not just someone to tell me they’re good because we’re friends.”

You shot him a tilted smirk, eyebrow raised.

“What, you wouldn’t consider us friends?” you teased, hand raised to your chest to feign indigence. “I mean, I know we only just met, but I smoked you up!”

“And I payed for breakfast,” Yoongi shot back evenly, though his eyes glimmered jovially. You rolled your eyes.

“Touche,” you conceded. After a moment you added, “What do you think? Should we get out of here and go visit that studio of yours?”

It was Yoongi’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“I don’t see why not,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

With that, the two of you got up from the table and headed out the door and down the street. You knew that the path on which Yoongi lead you would bring you right back into the heart of the city, the same suffocating cage that had driven you to seek escape at the end of a rotting wooden pier in the first place. Something was different, though, like you had found a crucial part of an equation that you never would have realized was missing. You had found Yoongi, or rather, he had found you, sitting all alone on a bench before sunrise.

Occasionally the brush of your hand against his sent a shock of warmth rippling through your body, but mostly it let you know that you were not alone. You had found another wandering soul like yourself. With Yoongi by your side you knew that, even though you were headed back into the belly of the beast, you might not feel so trapped after all.