#my cat has seen me all day long sitting in the couch watching series and they still think im atlethic to chase it down?

[kitten-with-socks]

things i dont understand about cats

1- why do their butts do that wiggly-thing before jumping to literally nowhere

2- how do they stab you when they just sit on you...like, bro? you arent even THAT heavy but it still feels like you just goy impaled by a sword

3- WHY DO THEY START TO SCREAM LIKE A DEMON WHO JUST GOT OUT OF THE DEPTHS OF HELL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT OUT OF THE BLUE

4- why is that little "mprrr?" sound so adorable

[xerith-42]

My Street Ramblings

Ok ok ok so @gonedreaminggg put it into words very well when they described My Street characters as more of characters than people. Which is so true!! Like I can list off some personality traits of some characters, but can you honestly tell me what Katelyn really thinks about Zane? Even though they're both main characters?

(Editors note, this post ran the fuck away from me so it's long as fuck sjdfjsdhg)

The problem MS has is that a lot of these characters get boiled down to the silliest, memeist versions of themselves, until Jess did a spin maneuver and made the series a story driven show with a darker tone and promptly crashed her faster car into a brick wall. But even before that happened, a lot of MS characters were lacking because of the forced perspective.

Until the plot shows up in season 4 and mandates characters splitting up constantly, a lot of the series is (sometimes literally) only seen from Aphmau's perspective. If interesting character drama is happening and she isn't around for it, it won't be seen. This was somewhat rectified in Season 5, but it was really too little too late. Because Aphmau has to be around for important stuff to happen, we don't really know the characters on a smaller scale, because the series is allergic to taking things slow.

Imagine an episode that's just watching Nana go through her day. She wakes up, starts making coffee, pulls a blanket over Katelyn who fell asleep on the couch watching K-drama's last night, and then goes outside with her morning coffee, a small breakfast, and sits on her porch and scrolls through Tumblr while people watching.

We follow her taking the bus to get to her barista job, and watch as she goes through an opening shift. Scenes fade showing the different parts of her job, maybe she has to deal with an angry customer and we see how she responds. Maybe while she's working one of her other friends from My Street shows up and gets an order and they have a chat as she's working. We watch the care she puts into it, and how she leaves little positive notes with drawings of cats, hearts, and flowers next to their name on their order.

My Street characters suffer from feeling like they aren't doing anything if the Main Character isn't around. How does Travis like to spend his weekends? We can make headcanons about it, but the show, the actual text, can't answer such a simple question about one of it's main characters.

My Street also suffers from having too many characters, but if the series was willing to slow down, all of them could be given proper time, especially because a lot of characters probably spend time together when Aphmau and Aaron aren't around.

I'm talking about an episode where it opens on Garroth honking his horn, and then Zane comes trudging out of his house, gets in the passenger seat, and lets out a huff. Garroth just gives him the aux cord, and Zane puts on his high school emo playlist he unironically enjoys. Garroth nods along to or even lip-sings some of the song (probably Welcome To The Black parade by MCR, I just know all the Ro'maeve brothers love that song.)

Speaking of which, they then pick up Vylad, and all three of them just go for a drive. Eventually they drive into the country side, pull off, and then turn the car off. Garroth pops open the trunk and the three of them all just chill out on a pile of blankets and pillows that were already there. They sit in silence for a while. Vylad and Zane pass a vape pen around, and every now and then Garroth takes a hit off of it.

Finally they all just talk. About life, about their feelings, about their parents, whatever they can think to talk about. Maybe Garroth brings up some of his gripes about his roommate, or Vylad confesses that they're struggling to figure out how to come out to their parents. This is clearly a routine these three established, and something all three of them greatly appreciate. Garroth and Zane never quite felt like brothers to me, but this? I could see myself doing this with my brother.

And for my final random idea I had while in the shower, I want to talk about Melissa my beloved. A character who only exists to help prop up an already existing character. Melissa has almost no identity outside of being Aaron's Sister. Let me ask you this, what's her job? Without checking the wiki?

My idea is that she works for her parents company, a boring, dreadful, and soul draining office job. It's the same routine day in, day out, nothing changes. Wake up, drive to work, sit at her office for 8 hours, go home, sleep, repeat. Until on Friday, when she's truly had enough, when she's just so tired as she slams the car door as she's getting in her car to leave and hangs her head. She's so exhausted, so drained, so miserable. Her moment of anguish is interrupted by her phone playing a stupid love song, and you can just see her face relax the minute she hears it.

She answers the phone, puts it on speaker, and sets it up on a stand in her car. Her relaxed expression turns into a love struck grin, her ears relax, and her tail starts wagging the minute she hears her girlfriend Lucinda's voice. After the drudgery of every single day being the same, just hearing her voice is like medicine to Melissa.

And then the two talk the entire time Melissa is driving to Lucinda's, and they're so so so gay when they see each other in person. They both get dolled up and flirt like dorks the entire time, and then we get a montage of them going out clubbing, singing karaoke, and getting white girl wasted despite neither of them being white.

My Street characters don't feel like people because they're not. They're mostly one dimensional characters who exist to fill out a roster or scene, and we get depressingly little insight into who they are as people.

I hope this post gave them and the MS fandom something to chew on.

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 01  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 4.3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

The winter’s coldness is hardly enough for you to bear. Even though it’s just the beginning, Seoul is known to just go from season to season without a fucking warning. Not only that, but the first snowfall is going to come soon. The weatherman has been talking about it non-stop for the past few days. It’s going to be a brutal one he says but he says that every year so why believe?

Turning off your alarm, you take a few minutes to collect yourself and stretch. Barely any sleep once again but that’s an everyday thing now.. without Jimin. It’s been some rough months not having his body wrapped snugly onto yours. These days you long for his touch, but completely dread at the same time for very good reasons.

Your kitten greets you with small licks on your thigh in which in return you pet her head softly with a smile.

‘‘ At least I still have you babygirl. You keep me company. “ You coo softly while grabbing your phone off the charger. Texts from your best-friend just spamming you with love and apparently she’s coming over. Great. That’s normal.  But one text catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook.

You furrow your eyebrows as your finger slides to open it after typing in your password. In relief, he’s just checking up on you as always. Rolling your eyes, you muster enough strength to actually pull yourself out of bed. The cold tiles hit your feet like icicles. You jump from from foot to foot cursing yourself for not turning on the floor heaters as you walk out the room. Clara, your kitten, follows you out purring nonchalantly with a few meows here and there.

‘’ Alright Clara I hear you. Im getting your food now.’’ You chuckle, grabbing her food from the bottom kitchen cabinet right under the sink and pour her half a cup of cat food and a whole bowl of water.

After snacking on your morning granola bar you prepare yourself for your morning routine. Shower, brush teeth, skin care, get dressed, clean. Your phone dings once more just before stripping yourself of your clothes. You don’t bother to look it’s probably just a social media notification.

Drying your hair with a towel as you get out the steaming hot shower, you head straight for the mirror. Dark circles remain under your eyes from months of barely any sleep. You sigh, and gently rub under them. Jimin is the cause of this. Why would he do this to you. Surely enough he would not like to see you like this at all. The worriedness he would have over you is huge. But he has moved on and you just have to accept it no matter how in-love you still are with him.

As you clean up around the living room, another ding from your phone occurs. A groan escapes your lips as you place the pillows back as they should be. In hopes of it just being your manager giving you some good news, you let out a sigh and plop yourself down on the grey suede couch. Three new messages. Jeon Jungkook, who has text you twice, and Ryan your bestfriend. 

‘‘ Damn it Ryan why must you consistently text me twenty four sev- “

“ Beause I need to know if you’re okay.”

You jump and drop your phone onto the hardwood floor from the voice that comes from around you.

“ Holy fucking shit you scared me! “  You whine, turning around to face your best-friend. She smiles and holds out her arms for a hug. You roll your eyes and open yours waiting for her embrace.

“ Oh i’ve missed you so so so so so so so-”

“ You just seen me yesterday..” Your voice sarcastic and bland as you let go of her. You sit on the couch first followed by Ryan sitting right next to you.

She looks good today, the navy blue coat she has on suits her very well. Although, you cannot figure out why she decided to wear leggings today. It’s going to rain a bit later but you disregard that seeing as though she’s the fashion deisgner and not you.

You. The model and seemingly ex girlfriend of one of the biggest solo idol in the world right now. Thats what they call you in the news, headlines in magazines, and real life as if you don’t have a real name and just was his acessory. Your modeling career had taken off way before dating him. The world, or Seoul to say the most, didn’t acklowledge you to that point yet. 

“ Okay but still. You know we should be roomates. It’ll be easier for me to watch over you. “

Your head turns towards her quickly shaking no, “ I don’t need to be looked over im 20 years old.”

Silence takes place for the next few seconds. You know what she’s going to say next but pray she doesn’t. Those words will just make you even more upset. It’s already enough you have that constant reminder in your head. 

You watch her fiddle with the rings on her index and pinky fingers. “ But you know… you haven’t been the same since you and Jimi-”

“ Don’t fucking say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

She sighs harshly and stands up, “ Im just worried about you Yn”

“ Don’t be. Im fine. “ That lie escaped your tongue way too easily. 

Truthfully you haven’t and won’t be fine. Everyday there is something new about that girl and Jimin on twitter. Gossip pages, twitter fanpages, and online entertainment pages just always talking about them. They did this, they did that today. Oh we caught them going to this and that restaurant. That used to be you and him.. but now everyone has forgotten about you and focused on them.

Ever since you’ve told reporters and paparazzi repeatedly that you will not be holding or going to any interview they just stopped. A few calls here and there to your manager about scheduling one but she knew you didn’t want to do them so every request is denied. Although its been a year and some change, they still seem to want your side and your opinion to weigh in on. I guess that’s what happens when you date an Idol.

“ The door.. Y/N the door somebody is at the door.” Ryan says, tapping you over and over. You shake your head interrupting your thoughts for the time being. A few more knocks come through.

Finally up onto your feet you harshly walk to the door with each step making noise. It’s to early in the morning for someone to actually be knocking at the door right now. Whoever it is better be dropping off some sort of package, or they’ll surely get a piece of your mind.

Your frail hands grab onto the doorknob and swing it open. Your eyes almost pop through your sockets. How? How did he know you were here? You certainly did not tell him your knew address.

There he stands, his tall frame looking down on you. Lips formed into a tiny pout along with his eyebrows scrunched slightly. His brown eyes forming an ungodly stare into yours with his specs on.

“ Yn! Do you know how worried I was about you? Why did you not answer my messa-”

“Jungkook how do you know where I live?” You pace your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him. To your knowledge, you never gave Jungkook your new apartment address.

Jungkook swallows slowly and puts on his best innocent face on. Oh please like that would work in this moment right now. The only person who has this address is Ryan because she’s the one who helped you move. Even if you had the choice of not giving it out to Ryan you would of but you couldn’t do that to her. She would of been so upset.

Ryan’s voice blares in the background full of excitement. Here we fucking go. “Jungkook! Come in Come in.”

“ Ryan says I could come in.” He says quickly, brushing past you and removing his shoes.

You heavily sigh and slam the door shut. What is this a family reunion? On your way back to the couch you notice them laughing and giggling like two five year old children. They don’t even notice you when you sit right across from them.

You study their expressions. Their chemistry is something so strong. The way their eyes light up when they meet, the way that Jungkook smiles and scrunches his nose more often when she’s around. You miss that. You miss doing that.

“ So are you both coming along this afternoon?”

Your attention focuses back on them. Of course you weren’t paying attention once again.

Your eyes slowly meet with theirs, “ Huh? Where are we going?”

“ Kookie finally bought a house! He wants us to come tonight for chicken and beer. You’re coming right?”

A sharp pain goes through your heart. If the both you you guys go then theirs a possibility that Jimin was invited too. After all, that is his brother. If Jimin comes then he’s most likely going to bring Isabel. A recipe for disaster. Your poor heart, that most likely could not bare the sight of them infront of you, would shatter into a million pieces.

Jungkook’s expression is ready to burst into happiness or to turn into a pout awaiting for your answer. If you let him down he’ll surely be mad at you. But putting yourself before him this time would be the right thing to do right?

“ Listen Jungkook I.. don’t think I can go.” You start off, playing with your hair with your head down.

“ I’ll space you two apart.”

Your face automatically lifts itself up in shock. Somehow, that little confirmation of Jimin being there, gave you some hope. Hope for what though?

 “ Wha-what do you mean?”

Jungkook sighs heavily with his hand going up to his brown hair running it through lightly. “ I’ll make sure you two are distanced apart. You don’t want to come because of Jimin but I’ll make sure I’ll invite more people to keep you company and away from him. Okay?”

“ Please Yn. I’ll be there too.” Ryan begs, laying her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook smiles a little, caressing her cheek with his other hand upon waiting your response.

Weird. When did they get so close?

The first thing you want to say is that you really could not go. But they already know the excuse now. You might as well just give in.

‘‘ Fine. What time tonight? “

Skincare and makeup products are scattered everywhere on your vanity. You needed the perfect look for tonight that says ‘Yes im doing fine without you’, but in reality you’re doing worse. This is the night where you’ll actually see him. Damn it’s been a while.

After you apply your highlight you step back and take a look at yourself. Not bad at all. You smile to yourself and start cleaning up the mess of products you had  distributed across the vanity. A new text appears on you phone as soon as you gather everything up and put it back in it’s place. Grabbing your phone, it’s Ryan giving you the address to Jungkook’s new house.

You sigh and mentally prepare yourself, ‘‘ Okay Yn. You can do this. It’s just one night of conversing among people. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new.”

Before heading out you grab your coat and scarf. Clara follows you all the way to the door letting out her little meows once again. You bend down to pet her head lightly with a smile. “ Clara im coming back. I’ve put food in your bowl babygirl.”

She purrs under your touch then walks away to settle herself in her bed. You take one last final look at your decent sized apartment before heading out.

The subway ride was agonizing pain for you due to it being 30 minutes long. Well, at-least you can ride the subway now. Your mind wouldn’t even of thought of that when you were with him. Everybody would have noticed you and bombard you with questions.

The outskirts of Seoul is peaceful and quite. Not many people live over here. Mostly famous actors and idols. The taxi takes a few minutes to get to the fairly clean subway station. Once you’re inside you take a good look at the driver who seems to be eyeing you in suspicion. You pull out your phone and read the words to the address exactly to him. The taxi man pulls of into the empty streets of god knows where.

All it took was a ten minute ride and then you’re there. The taxi man pulls up to a security guard booth. Just beyond the gates is more street but  by squinting your eyes you can make out just a few newly built houses.

‘‘ Who are you here to see?” The taxi driver says.

“ Jeon Jungkook.?

The driver talks to the man for a few seconds before you see the security guard pick up a phone and start dialing. The security is extremely uptight, thats good. After a few moments of speaking the security guard finally opens the gates to be let through.

As you pull up to the house you’re automatically mesmerized on how big and beautiful it is. There’s fresh bushes and some white roses growing in the front of it complementing the white modern style home. The roundabout is full of luxurious cars, in which might be all the other guests.

‘‘ 10 dollars’‘ He says. You give him the ten, thank him, and grab your purse, closing the door behind you.

Your eyes meet face to face with the expensive house. Behind you is the tire wheels backing up and running off back down the roundabout. The time on your watch reads 8:15. Only fifteen minutes late, not bad right?

With each step you take fear quivers inside of you. What if he opens the door? What if that girl opens it instead? The wind blows harsh-fully hitting your cheeks making them turn slightly colored. You raise a small, shaky fist to knock on the door. Your blood turning cold, and face turning pale already. Your anxiety already taking its place inside of your body.

The door swings open revealing Ryan smiling from ear to ear. She pulls you inside without even a greeting. You kick your shoes off in a hurry as she pulls you more and more inside. Scanning the area around you, its a nice huge place. First the both of you pass the entrance, then the chef sized kitchen, which then leads you to the spacious living room where everybody seems to be sitting.

All eyes are on you now with some familiar faces and some not. They smile and greet you one by one and you slightly bow your head with a fake smile.

‘‘ Ah Yn, nice to see you again huh.’‘ Hoseok, the smiley one says, getting up from his seat to greet you once more.

‘‘ Nice to see you to Hoseok. Is Chae-Yeon here? I’ve baked the cookies she likes.’’  You say, holding up the big tuba-wear of freshly baked cookies. Nobody can resist those.

‘‘ No she had to work sadly, but I will enjoy them for her.’‘ He chuckles, bringing the tuba-wear out of your dainty, cold hands.

A very familiar voice booms from behind you causing you to turn around. “ Yn! You actually did come!’’ Jungkook, the owner of the voice exclaims. He wipes his hands with a napkin just before pulling you into a hug.You pat his back just before letting go.

Ryan smiles and shakes her head, “ I told you she would come.’’

Only one hour and 30 minutes into the festivities and half of the people here are drunk or nearly there. You on the other hand do not drink at all. Staying sober throughout this whole party is a must. Who knows what would happen if you start drinking and saying things.Ryan seems to be doing good with Jungkook who’s laying on the floor laughing and cracking jokes with her head laying on his stomach giggling along with him. The others have casually invited themselves into the guest game-room to play some pool.

You just sit there on the couch, munching on a cookie and smiling and laughing here and there at one of Seokjin and Jungkook’s back-to-back jokes that seem to never leave the air.

Only for a knock on the door to interrupt  their flow of jokes.

‘‘ I got it I got it.” Seokjin stammers, placing a beer bottle down and stumbling towards the door. You freeze, face turning pale once more. It’s them. It could be them. Your teeth find their way to your lips and you begin to chew on it excessively.

Ryan notices it and automatically gets up from Jungkook, ‘‘ Come Yn, lets go see if the game of pool is interesting.’‘

You nod your head slightly as you get up from the couch. What are you worrying for? You look extravagant tonight. No need to worry yourself.

Just before taking your first few steps you stop, that voice. That oh so familiar voice begins to inch closer and closer. The famous laugh that he always tries to stifle by putting his hand over his mouth, that you’ve always thought was so fucking cute, fills the air.

You don’t know what got over you, but you sit back down dragging Ryan down with you. “ Yn? What are you doing I thought you wanted to avoid him.’’

‘’ No it’s okay. Im going to be fine.’‘ You say, awaiting upon his arrival into the room.

The footsteps are haunting you with each step they take.

one..two..three..four..five..si-

‘‘ Everyone, Isabel and Jimin are here.’‘ Seokjin stammers, smiling wide clearly drunk from all the beer consumed.

Your eyes go directly towards his. The pit of your stomach flutters with nervousness as you hold the long stare with him. His facial expression shocked but not showing it at all. His partner, who’s arm is linked with his, smiles brightly at everyone bowing her head slightly to them including you.

‘‘ Sorry we are late. Jimin didn’t want to come out of his home studio but I’ve made him come along with me.’‘ Her voice gentle and soft.

‘‘ Yn I forgot let me show you my new painting i have received.” Jungkook says quickly, trying to escape you from the awkwardness.You can bare it though its not as bad as you thought.

‘‘ Maybe later Kookie. I’m going to grab some juice.”  You say, getting up from your spot. You brush past Jimin lightly with Ryan tailing along with you.

The spacious kitchen was perfect for you to escape for just a moment. Silence is golden. Ryan sighs, pouring you and her a glass of juice. Nothing is to be said yet. But you know she really wants to have her input.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a sip letting the tanginess run across your tongue and down your throat. ‘’ Say it Ryan.’’

She puts her cup down and looks at you with your eyebrows furrowed, ‘’ You aren’t fine. Please just avoid them for the night.’’

You knew it was coming but you have to face the fact that they area couple anyways so why avoid it? Maybe your mind will finally accept it to see it in person.

‘‘ I have to face it one way or another so why not now?’‘

She shakes her head in disapproval, finishing the rest of her juice. “ No you don’t. You’re making yourself suffer and I don’t like it.’’

‘‘ Yn.. did you make these cookies?’‘ A voice says behind you. Ryan’s eyes go wide and then looks at you signaling for you to not turn around. But you do it anyways.

Isabel. How dare she call you by a pet name? You don’t even know her like that and she’s doing this. Anger wants to get the best of you but you remain humble and calm.

‘‘ Yes. Is there a problem though? Are they not good?’‘ You say, putting on your best innocent act.

She smiles as she moves a piece of hair of her perfectly framed face, ‘’ No they are great! I was wondering if i can have the recipe.. for Jimin’s purpose of course.’’

You breathe through your nostrils with your eyes closed. She knows what she’s doing. She likes seeing you suffer huh? ‘’ You can follow any recipe online. I just add almond extract and substitute white sugar for brown.’’

Ryan shakes her head slightly while sticking her cup into the sink. ‘’ I’m going to be back I have to use the restroom.’’

Once she leaves Isabel’s smile drops.’’ Almond? Im- Im allergic!” She says, semi yelling at you. You’re shocked more or so at the sudden outburst that you can’t speak. You had zero knowledge of her being allergic, it’s an accident for sure.

 “You did this on purpose!’’ She says, tears filling her eyes as she goes into a coughing fit.

Shit. You didn’t know if anyone was allergic to nuts here but you had put it in anyways because that was the secret ingredient

‘’ I- I didn’t know im sorry is there anything I can do?’’ You say, guilt taking over you while you rush to her side patting her back. 

‘‘ Get off of me! You did this on purpose! You never liked me anyways. Jimin! Jimin!‘ She scream’s, coughing and wheezing making her face red.

Multiple footsteps rush into the kitchen. You don’t know what to do at this point so you just back away and let whoever take over. All the commotion going on and yelling is starting to give you a slight headache. All of the boys surround her, bombarding with questions and asking each other what to do. 

‘‘ What’s all the yelling about? What happened! “ Jungkook exclaims rushing towards her hunched over body.

‘‘ What’s going on? “ That voice that haunts you everynight finally comes inside the kitchen. When he see’s Isabel he automatically rushes towards her side. It pains you to see him rush to another woman’s body. But that figure is no longer yours so he has every right to do that.

‘‘ She-She put almond in the cookies on purpose! She’s trying to–to-’‘ She manages to wheeze out before another coughing fit.

Jimin’s eyes meet yours full of rage but then taken over by concern. He knows your hurt. Still hurt from the past and from this very situation now. You don’t manage to keep eye contact, so the floor is your eyes’ bestfriend right now.

‘‘ Yn. is this true? Why would you do that?”  He says, eyes never leaving yours and voice soft.

You shake your head quickly, “ I didn’t know she was allergic. I always put almond extract an-’’

“ You knew better than to put any type or form of nut in a dish when bringing it to ones house. You never know if someone has an allergy to it.’‘ Jungkook scolds you, eyes furrowed in shame.

‘‘ Don’t blame her. She didn’t fucking know.” Ryan’s voice enters the room in madness. She comes to your side with her arms crossed. Your own personal savior. Without her, you’d still be feeling guilty and taking the blame.

‘‘ Besides, you knew better than to invite him if you knew he was going to bring the girl he cheated on her with.. right?’‘ She says, cocking her head to the side as her attitude takes over.

The room is silent again. Good girl Ryan. 

Isabel lifts her head in disbelief along with Jimin. “ Listen that’s beside the point. Just don’t do it again.” Jimin says, focusing his attention back on Isabel. He reaches into her purse to grab her Epi-pen.

His scolding is enough to send your eyes into tears. You shouldn’t of agreed to come. This is a disaster. You take the tuba-wear of cookies from the counter on your way out of the kitchen and dispose of them. Your vision is blurry and you don’t know where your going but you just need some air. You make lefts and rights down long and short hallways till you reach a room that has a balcony.

You slip on who-ever’s house slippers and open the sliding door revealing the winter’s cold harsh air. You lean on the railing and close your eyes breathe in and out heavily.

Wiping the tears away, You open our eyes and look straight ahead. The whole city is lit up such a beautiful view for a sad moment. The sad moment is cut short by the sliding door opening and closing. You don’t bother to turn around it’s probably just Ryan checking on you again. When are people going to stop doing that?

“ Yn.”

Thats the last voice you wanted to hear.

‘‘ Are you happy? Happy for scolding me infront of everybody.”  You sniffle, wiping away your leaking nose.

You hear some rustling before something is placed on your shoulders. You look down at the material and shrug it off of you.

‘‘ Give it to your girlfriend.”

‘‘ I can’t let you be cold. Put it back on.’‘ He sighs, picking it back up and coming closer to you. You both stand side by side. Jimin puts his jacket around you once more and before you could re-do your action just before, he speaks.

‘‘ Shrug it off again and I’ll scold you. Do you understand?’‘ He says firmly.

You don’t bother to speak. Silence is golden.

‘‘ Listen.. i know you still aren’t over the fact that we are through but-”

‘‘ Shut up. I don’t want to hear it. Please go tend to your dying girlfriend.’‘ You say, sarcastically.

He huffs, “ She’s resting right now. She wouldn’t have to be if you wouldn’t of put-’’

You turn towards him slowly and meet his eyes daring for him to finish the rest of his sentence. ‘’ Don’t you fucking dare Park Jimin.’’

‘‘ Honorifics.’‘ He says, slightly looking down at you due to the height difference.

‘‘ You’re right Jimin-ssi.’‘

Jimin’s expression is taken a-back. You knew that one honorific word would hurt him.

‘‘ If we are done speaking I will take my leave now.” You say, eyes never leaving his as you take off his jacket and toss it to him, leaving him outside in the cold

This night was one of your worst mistakes. You thought you could handle it, but couldn’t. So maybe Ryan and Jungkook were right. Maybe you can’t handle it at all..

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part I (x reader insert)

Summary: Our favorite couple has some catching up to do.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (or xOC)

Category: hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: descriptions of Mexico and prison; they have a sleepover, but it’s just talking and sleeping 🥰

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: Here we go!!!!! We’re picking up from right where we left off in tmsidk part X.

Song Rec: The Luckiest by Ben Folds

Series Masterlist

———

“Do you— would you want to— come upstairs?” he asked.

Spencer stood in front of her, unsure of what to do with his hands. Y/N was absolutely radiant— bathed in the very last of the golden daylight and more beautiful than he even remembered. All he wanted to do was hug her again and never let go.

She shook her head, and he tried not to instantly deflate. “I have to feed Roald.” She smiled a little at him and restarted his heart. “But would you want to come over? We could order somethi—”

“Yes— yes.” She let out a quiet laugh at his eagerness, and he wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. “Can I— I just want to drop this stuff off and change, and then I’ll, um.” He gestured vaguely to her. “Should I drive you or do you want to walk or I can just— meet you? Whatever— whatever you want.”

“I’m gonna head back now and take care of Roald. Take your time, and just— well, here.” She held out her hand. “I’ll put my number in your phone, and you can just text me when you’re on your way.”

He fumbled the phone out of his pocket, placed it into her outstretched hand, and nearly vibrated with the way her fingers brushed over his. She stared at the unsophisticated phone in her hand. “You weren’t kidding about the technology thing, huh?”

He ran a hand down the back of his neck and shrugged. “I prefer to keep things simple.”

“I haven’t seen a T9 keyboard since I was in high school. This is a relic,” she laughed and then gave him a soft smile. “And… very you.”

He watched her fingers as she pressed along the tiny keys, still sort of in shock that she was here, that he was getting a second chance, that she wanted to do this with him. She handed the phone back to him and then stuffed her hands in her pockets. “So, I’ll see you in a little bit?”

He nodded and gave her his best smile. She stepped forward into his space, and his eyes went a little wide as she leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She stepped back with a smile, then waved and turned on her heel headed to her car.

He stood rooted to the spot until she had disappeared from view, then let out a long breath and looked down at the small screen of his phone at her contact information. His lips twitched at the name she’d given herself.

Miss Honey <3

…

Forty five minutes later, Spencer smoothed down the front of his cardigan and blew out a sigh. He’d spent five of those minutes reveling in the magic that was Y/N, and the other forty convincing himself that she’d already changed her mind. But he was a man in love, and so he was standing in front of her building, willing himself to press her buzzer.

He was jolted out of his stupor by the buzzing of his phone. He pulled the device from his pocket and saw her name on the tiny screen, hesitating only a moment before pressing the button to answer. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He could hear her smile through the tinny speaker, and it immediately set him at ease. “I was just checking to make sure you remembered where you were going.”

“Yeah, I— I’m outside now, actually,” he confirmed.

“Oh, great! I’ll buzz you up.”

The door buzzed open, and Spencer pocketed his phone, stepping into the small foyer. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants as he made his way to the staircase. He had barely taken the first step when she called, “It’s the third floor!”

He barely resisted the urge to take the stairs two at a time. When he reached the landing of the third floor, she was standing in the doorway in a purple sweatshirt, sweatpants, and fuzzy socks with dragons on them. He couldn’t help but grin.

“Hey.” She returned his smile. “Come on in.” She moved aside and waved him into her apartment.

He stepped over the threshold, and she closed the door behind him. “I can take your coat. Feel free to leave your shoes there. Roald will be in hiding for the next half hour or so,” she informed him.

He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her, looking briefly around the tidy space. The walls of her living room were a calming mint green, adorned with plenty of art and photographs. Her couch was a blush pink velvet, exactly as soft as she was.

“Okay, I’m starving,” she admitted, turning to hang his coat in the coat closet. “We can order pizza, Indian, Thai— any preference?”

He shook his head. “No, whatever you want.”

She closed the closet door and cocked an eyebrow. “So if I wanted to order a huge pizza with extra cheese, you’d be cool with that?”

“Sure, absolutely,” he nodded.

She tilted her head. “Even with your dairy thing?”

He was surprised that she even remembered such a tiny detail from all those months ago, and his heart would have fluttered if he wasn’t so focused on making as few waves as possible. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a mistake letting him back in, and he didn’t want to do anything that would cause her to rethink her decision. “Well, it’s— it’s just a sensitivity, not a true allergy. Although it’s gotten a bit worse in recent years. But really, whatever you want to do is fine.”

He suddenly struggled to make eye contact, feeling overwhelmingly awkward and out of place. Now that he was here in her apartment, it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. He cracked the knuckles on each finger as he waited for it. She let out a small sigh, and he braced himself for impact.

“Why don’t you come sit?”

Her voice was quiet, and then her hand on his arm was soft, and she was leading him to the couch and sitting down next to him. She kept some distance between them, placed her hands in her lap, and then she was still for a long moment. He could feel her eyes on him, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know if she wanted him to say anything at all.

“You know I forgive you, right?” The question was tentative. He met her eyes, and he didn’t see the regret or pity that he expected. There was something else there; something he couldn’t quite decipher. “Because I do. Forgive you. You apologized, and you meant it, and you allowed me space and time to process. And that’s— that’s all I could have asked for.”

As seemed to always be the case, the task of articulating what he was feeling began to crush him under its weight. The words were there, but he couldn’t get the order right. If it were anyone else, he would have just evaded the conversation entirely. But he’d promised her that he would try. After everything he’d put her through, she deserved that much.

He breathed in through his nose, expelling it in a sigh. “I’ve just— I’ve spent the last month thinking about this— about you— pretty much exclusively,” he admitted, staring at his hands. “And I’m just realizing that I never really… allowed myself to think about what would happen next, because I wasn’t sure that this would happen at all.” He gestured between them and then looked at her. “And now I’m here— with you, and I just— it’s…” He let out a sigh.

“Doesn’t live up to expectations?” she prompted.

His eyes went wide, and he moved closer to her on the couch. “No— god, no.” He instinctively reached for her hand, felt that electricity again when she allowed him to lace their fingers together. He was already making a mess of things. “You always exceed expectations.” He shook his head, and she squeezed his hand. “I just— I don’t… I don’t wanna mess this up.”

She covered their intertwined fingers with her other hand, rubbed her thumb along his. “I don’t think you will. Something tells me you don’t typically make the same mistake twice,” she inferred.

He laughed a little at that, and she gave him a sweet smile, and then she said, “So, no pizza. How about Indian?”

…

They were just cleaning up the last of the take out containers when Roald made his way out of Y/N’s bedroom.

“There he is! Hey, buddy,” she cooed, leaning down to give Roald a quick pet. She gave Spencer a sheepish smile. “He takes a while to warm up to new faces, so don’t be offended if he’s not—”

She was stopped mid-sentence by Roald’s decision to make a beeline for him. The cat stopped to give a cursory sniff before weaving between Spencer’s legs, purring loud enough that they could both hear it. Her mouth dropped open a bit as he leaned down to scratch between Roald’s ears.

“He— he is never that friendly,” she said incredulously. “There really is something about you, Dr. Reid.”

He looked up at her with a smile. “I’m just glad he approves. Would have been kind of awkward otherwise.”

“He’s a very good judge of character, so that bodes well for you,” she confirmed.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer scratched underneath Roald’s chin, grinning at the contented cat. He brought his gaze back to her, standing back to his full height when he realized she’d moved… a lot closer. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he watched her eyes track the motion.

“Yeah.”

He thought back to that night nearly two months ago, the way his mouth had verged on violent when she’d kissed him. He hated that their first kiss was tainted with his foolishness, that he’d marred that memory for them both. He couldn’t take it back, and he wasn’t certain that she wanted to kiss him now, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” she breathed.

He brought his hands to her face and used a gentle grip to pull her in. She rested her warm palms against his waist and let her fingers dig in, holding herself steady as his lips met hers.

He kept the kiss as soft as she deserved, opening his mouth to let her in but letting her lead and take him wherever she wanted to go. Her hands slid around to his back, and she tugged him in closer. He left one hand cradling her face but moved the other to the small of her back and pulled her flush against him.

She huffed out a tiny breath against his mouth, her lips turning up in a smile that he could feel in his toes. She brought one hand up to his jaw, rubbed her thumb across his cheek and then wound her fingers into his hair. She tangled them in his curls and tugged just enough to break the kiss, pressing their foreheads together with a sigh.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’m just gonna wipe our first kiss from my memory and replace it with that one,” she murmured.

“I’m very much on board with this rewrite,” he agreed.

“Excellent.” She used the hand in his hair to pull him forward into another quick kiss. Roald made his presence known at their feet with a loud meow, pulling a laugh from both of them.

They de-tangled themselves from each other, and she ran a hand through her hair. “It’s getting late.” He nodded in agreement, although he never wanted this night to end. And then she continued, “Do you wanna, um— do you wanna stay the night? I’m sure I can find some comfy clothes that’ll fit you.”

He’d been a ship on a turbulent sea for the past two months, just barely staying afloat at times. It had been heart wrenching and nerve wracking and terrifying— and all of his own doing. And in one night, she’d anchored his vessel amongst the crashing waves. A solution kit, a hug, forgiveness, a kiss, and now this.

His racing mind came to a standstill. The near constant noise was quieted. The turbulent sea became calm, still waters.

“I’d really, really like that.”

…

Spencer ended up in an XXL t-shirt from a school fundraiser and a pair of stretchy bike shorts. Y/N had managed to scrounge up a new toothbrush from the back of the cabinet, and they brushed their teeth together with foamy smiles in the bathroom mirror.

It had taken very little convincing for Spencer to agree to share the bed. Y/N climbed in under the covers, settling back against the pillows and turning down the duvet for him to join her. He held up one finger and disappeared out into the living room, returning a minute later with the solution kit in hand. He moved to the bed, sliding in between the soft sheets and pulling up the duvet.

He leaned back against the pillows and turned toward her, opening the box. “This is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me,” he admitted. “Can you, um— explain them to me? Some of them I figured out, but others— well, I just want to hear you, really.”

She scooted closer to him and leaned over to look in the box. “The first few are pretty self-explanatory. This one,” she said, pulling out a picture of her with her hands over her heart and belly, “is taking deep breaths until you’re calm and ready to try again. This one is reading a favorite book— which I know will take you about five minutes,” she joked.

She retrieved the card with the clip art book, and then the one behind it with a pencil and paper. “You can try to write down the difficult thoughts and feelings to get them out of your headspace.” The next card had a picture of an old rotary phone. “Hmmm, almost a match to the dinosaur phone you actually have,” she teased. “But it’s an option to call someone. Could be your mom, or a friend, or—”

“Or you? Could I call you?”

She looked up to find his eyes on her and smiled. “Yeah. You can call me, too.” She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, and— not for the first time that night— he could not believe how lucky he was.

She drew back to pull out the next card: a clip art rendering of a desktop computer. “Oh! This one is for researching something. I know you’ve got a seemingly endless encyclopedia of knowledge up there,” she tapped on his temple, “but there’s always something new to learn. And teaching yourself something can help you feel capable in moments where you’re feeling— a little helpless.”

There was also a small wooden puzzle cube in the box. She took it from the box and held it up in front of them. “I know your IQ will probably solve this thing in fifteen seconds, but at least it’ll be a nice fidget toy,” she laughed.

The last card in the box was a picture of a timer. “This one might seem kind of dumb, but sometimes it helps me to set a timer to remind myself that feeling shitty is a temporary state of being.” She held the card between her fingers and shrugged. “Even if I’m still feeling less than great after the timer goes off, it usually gives me the boost I need to move forward.”

She gathered all the cards in her hands, shuffling them and then placing them back in the box. “You can add your own options as you think of them. This was just a starter set.”

He closed the lid of the box and set it on the bed between them. He reached for her hand, and she immediately threaded their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb along her impossibly soft skin and took a deep breath.

“The timer isn’t dumb. I, um— I did something similar in prison.” She squeezed his hand. “I kept track of the— the days on this little spot on the wall. Every time it felt like I couldn’t take another day, I’d count the marks and remind myself that I— that I’d survived that long. That I could make it another day.”

He went quiet, and Y/N sat up a little in bed, brushed her free hand over his hair. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” It wasn’t a lie. He wanted to talk to her about it. He wanted to talk to her about everything. He wanted to let her into the shadowy corners of his mind that he kept from everyone else.

“If you’re sure, then I’m right here.” She pulled their intertwined fingers into her lap and leaned over to press a kiss to his shoulder.

When she pulled back, he let out a long breath. He watched her thumb as it traced an unwavering line across the back of his hand. “I was, um— I was in Mexico getting an experimental Alzheimer’s drug for my mom. I’d been going down there for a few months, and it wasn’t ideal, but the medication really seemed to be helping her. And I was just— I was desperate. Desperate for anything that would give me more time with her. More lucid, meaningful time, you know?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“It wasn’t the, uh— drug that got me arrested,” he admitted. “There was an unsub— one of the serial killers that we put away a few years ago— a psychopathic, narcissistic hitwoman who had this— I don’t know, vendetta against me, I guess. She, um— she manipulated another woman into drugging me and framing me for the murder of the doctor I was getting the medication from.”

He could feel her eyes on him, and he drew his brows together. “I know the— the whole thing sounds completely absurd— fictional even,” he admitted. “She used a mix of drugs called sevoflurane and scopolamine to trigger dissociation and hallucination, which made it really— um... For a long time, I couldn’t tell which of my memories were real and which were drug-induced delusions.”

He focused on the motion of her thumb against his skin. “The team got me out of the prison in Mexico, but because I went against FBI protocol when I crossed the border, the Bureau wouldn’t fund my legal representation here. Emily hired a great lawyer, but the judge was less than sympathetic. And it really, um— snowballed from there.”

He took a deep breath. “I was sent to Millburn, which is a maximum security prison, and then I didn’t get the protective custody detail, so I was in general population, but I didn’t want to hurt people or move drugs, so I got the shit kicked out of me for a while, and then my friend Luis was killed in front of me, and I—”

Spencer didn’t realize he was crying until Y/N’s hands were on his face, wiping the tears before pulling him into her arms. “A-and then I poisoned the drugs, which just ended up hurting a bunch of people who didn’t deserve to get hurt. And then I got outed as an agent, and my mom got abducted, and I stabbed myself to get put in solitary, but I wasn’t safe there either, and I really thought... I was sure I was going to die there.”

He wrapped his arms around her middle and tucked his face into her shoulder as the hurricane of his agony swirled and raged and then swept out as quickly as it rolled in. She soothed his cries and held him against her, never rushing or shushing him. Eventually, his weeping dwindled to quiet sniffles, his heaving breaths faded to drawn sighs. She kept him anchored through all of it, rocking him gently from side to side and calming his shattered frame.

When he finally quieted, she released him and pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. His chest tightened at her tear-stained cheeks, and he brought his hands up to wipe at them uselessly. When his hands fell back to his lap, she sniffled a little before taking a deep breath, releasing it on a shaky sigh.

“The choices you made kept you alive, Spencer. They were—  impossible, horrific choices that I’m sure just—” She shook her head, searching for the right words. “I’m sure the weight of the guilt and grief has to be unbearable sometimes,” she surmised. “And there’s nothing I can say that will make that any less true.”

She cupped his face in her hands, swiping at the fresh tears with her thumbs. “But I’m... I’m so selfishly thankful for every choice you made. Because it was the perfect set of decisions in that it brought you here. To me…” The tears tracked hot down her cheeks, and she took a shaky breath. “And I feel so unbelievably lucky and so incredibly grateful to have you.”

He had her wrapped up in his arms before she’d even finished the sentence. “I never believed in luck,” he mused. He pressed a kiss into her hair and closed his eyes. “I’m still not sure if I do. But I can tell you that I’m the luckiest.”

———

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[willowbleedsonpaper]

Winter In the Shade X

Part X

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 3216

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None. Let me know if there is something.

A/N: Small shoutout to @callmecherie, thank you for sharing Winter in the Shade. 💚

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The days turned gloomy after the last time Sirius saw you last. He was in constant search of you but it was like you had never existed, the Ravenclaw table lacked the certain presence he had grown used to having there and the halls were void of the sound of your voice. No one saw you and if they did he wouldn’t really be able to tell, he refused to ask around for you. But he did make an exception, finding the boy that appeared to be attached to you all alone at the library.

He was used to seeing you in the library, usually with the company of Regulus but taking in consideration it was still the winter break Regulus would be at home until the last day he could. Of course he would be.

Sirius shook his head and focused on the important. You were nowhere to be seen at the library, he had made sure to check at least a couple of times, sending Remus on his way to check on his behalf so it wouldn’t be obvious how out of place and lost Sirius looked. He had no luck. But still, Remus managed to gather the important fact that Félix, the boy that you took under your wing and that now was Remus’ shadow, was always there.

“He is brilliant.” Remus told Sirius one morning during breakfast, playing with the cup in his hand “For a first year, he knows as much as you do.” he smirked, lifting his gaze from his coffee momentarily before he settled back on the dark liquid.

Sirius glared at him, running his tongue over his teeth as he clenched his fist where he supported his head, looking away from his friend. He is your way of finding the kid so you can find Y/N and apologize for being an idiot. He thought, pursing his lips in annoyance Maybe Moony has a point.

“Focus.” Sirius hissed, snapping his fingers to bring Remus attention to himself “What did uh-” he hesitated, Remus' look of annoyance making Sirius narrow his eyes with a tight smile.

“Félix.”

“Just checking we were talking about the same person.” he winked, leaning forward “What did he tell you?”

Remus stared at him, eyes void for a split second before he let out a long sigh “Nothing.” he admitted “He knows where she is but it’s not like he is just going to mention the place.”

Sirius groaned, falling back in his seat “Where is he?” he asked, looking over the few students currently having breakfast “You’re too soft, we need to push him.”

Remus pushed Sirius back onto his seat, his hand staying on his shoulder to force him to stay put “We don’t need to do anything.” he stated, leaving no room for discussion “And maybe you should just let her be. Didn’t you promise her that?”

“That was before I upset her.” he mumbled as he stayed put in his place, picking up the food from Remus’ plate “I just want to apologize, then I’ll leave her all alone.”

Remus gave him a knowing look, making Sirius stutter with his words before he lifted his hands in surrender “Promise.”

Remus shook his head, slapping Sirius’ hand as he kept on stealing his food “Quit eating my breakfast.” he ordered, taking the plate in front of him and filling it exactly like his “There. Eat that.”

Sirius looked down, taking a piece of the toast in front of him and making a face as soon as it touched his lips. “Yours is better.” he said, pushing the plate in Remus' direction and taking the half eaten plate from him.

“It’s really a wonder why Y/N’s avoiding you.” Remus muttered, downing the last sip of his coffee before he got up from his seat.

“Where are you going?” Sirius asked, his eyebrows furrowed in question as he followed Remus with his eyes.

“Peter is helping James with something at the Quidditch pitch.” he told him, pointing behind him towards the door “I’m going to make sure both of them make it to dinner.”

Sirius nodded, waving a hand in his direction. Remus left without another word, leaving Sirius to wonder in his own thoughts. What was he going to do?

*******

Avoiding was a very strong word.

You weren’t avoiding Sirius. Or not going to the library to not see Remus. You were certainly not avoiding the Quidditch pitch, specifically that hidden spot where you sat during Regulus’ training sessions, that specific spot where you could perfectly watch him and not be interrupted by other students there. You definitely were not avoiding the kitchens and midnight baking where you had come across Peter more than one time.

No. You were making very calculated decisions of what to and not to do. Avoiding was a completely different thing. You were certain.

The door to the Ravenclaw common room opened with a soft sound, the pages in your book changing as you lifted your gaze. The Castle had been welcoming the students back from the winter break slowly, the tables in the Great Hall getting fuller by the day.

Félix walked inside, the same gleaming look on his face as he had every day since the moment he started to sit at the same table that Remus took in the library.

“Why isn’t he a Ravenclaw?” he asked you with genuine curiosity, flopping down on the couch next to you.

“Hm?” you asked, closing your book and pretending you didn’t know who he was talking about.

“Remus.” he groaned, elongating his name “He is more Ravenclaw than you and I combined.”

You frowned, looking down at him “Hey!” you said defensively “That is a lot of Ravenclawness for one person.”

Félix shrugged, rolling his shoulders back as he lifted his head towards you “He is really tall.”

You narrowed your eyes, letting your body completely sink in the couch. You were both staring at the wall, biting the inside of your cheek as you pointed a lazy finger at him “That’s a good point.”

“He is still looking for you” Félix said after a long pause “Sirius, I mean.”

You chuckled darkly “I assumed you meant him.”

“Should I keep letting out very vague descriptions of your whereabouts or just let them assume you vanished?”

You turned to look at him confused, a pout on your lip as you considered him “I didn’t know you were doing that.” you mumbled, letting out a heavy sigh “You should hint them that I died.” you suggested, waving your hands in front of your faces “A real tragedy, you can come up with the details.”

“I don’t get it.” he told you, turning his head to you “Why are you avoiding him?”

“Ah,” you said, holding one finger up, “Not avoiding.”

“Calculated decisions.” you both said in unison.

“That,” he mumbled “So? He snapped at you, but you should know better than mentioning his brother to him. It’s like mentioning a mouse in front of a cat,” you scrunched up your nose, turning to him as he gave you a knowing look “The cat is gonna hiss.”

“Did you just compare Sirius Black to a cat?”

He clicked his tongue, nodding proudly at himself “And Regulus Black to a mouse.”

You bit your lip, stifling a laugh as you pushed his head softly “You’re unbelievable.”

*******

Three days. It took Sirius three days to finally cross paths with you.

You were sitting by the fountain, outside on the Courtyard with a bunch of letters piled in your lap and a few small flowers in your hand. You looked normal, like you had always been there and it was only Sirius who had failed to see you.

He was growing ever more nervous as he walked up to you, the words repeating inside his head, as he had practiced time and time again. I’m sorry for being an idiot. I know I overreacted, I shouldn’t have snapped at you the way I did but… No, there were no buts in his speech, just the apology. I’m sorry my attitude changed at the mention of my brother, at the mention of Regulus, should he say brother or Regulus? Same thing, right? I’m sorry I reacted the way I did at the mention of Regulus, at the mention of Regulus from you but how could I not? How could I not react in that way when all I want is for your eyes to light up at the mention of my name the way they light up at the mention of his, when all I want is for you to keep a picture of us tucked in the pages of your books to keep track of what you’ve read, when all I want is for you to hold onto my arm they way you do with his every time you walk together. How could I not react the way I did when I selfishly wish I could steal all the smiles you have ever shown him? That you could draw the smiles on my face the way you draw his?

Maybe he should stick with a plain apology.

You must have sensed his presence, not even five steps away from you you lazily lifted your head in his direction, not missing the way he was playing with his fingers. He dropped his hands and ran one through his hair before a small smile settled on his lips. “Hi.” he breathed out, lowering his gaze as he finally reached your side.

You nodded in his direction, moving your arms over all the letters in your lap “Hi.” you said back, leaning down so your elbows were resting on your knees.

Neither of you said anything, staring at one another for longer than it was considered comfortable.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you looked down at the flowers you were holding and noticing you had crushed them. The white of your knuckles making you open your hand immediately as the small pieces that used to make the flower fell to the water. You cursed under your breath, dusting your hand against your leg before you returned your gaze to Sirius, still standing there. Not avoiding, right? you told yourself. “Would you like to sit?” you asked as you moved your bag aside, making space for him.

He hesitantly took the space you made for him, thanking you in a whisper as he continued to look at you. His eyes immediately fell to the water behind them in the fountain, the flowers you held floating on the surface as they moved with the lightest wind that flowed around you. Sirius tilted his head to the side, confusion filling him entirely as you went back to reading whatever was on your lap. Letters, he assumed.

You didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest, in fact, you looked more at peace that he had ever seen you.

You blindly reached a hand to your bag, pulling a clear bag from inside and opening it without breaking your focus from the parchment in your other hand, joy lighting up your face. You popped a piece of what he could tell by the smell were cookies and managed a small laugh before you looked up to him, as if the thought of him being sitting right beside you had only registered in your mind.

“Would you like some?” you asked him, placing the bag between the two of you for him to grab some “I made them this morning.”

“Why are you being nice?” he asked suddenly, making whatever words you were about to say get stuck on your tongue.

You didn’t act surprised by his question, shaking your head with a nervous smile “Should I not be nice?” you asked, but he could tell you knew exactly what he meant.

“Don’t do that.” he asked tiredly, running a hand down his face “Don’t start pretending again.”

Sirius wanted you to show some anger, for you to cut his words sharply just like he had done, he wanted you to ignore him. Something. Anything. He felt even more the twist in his stomach now that you were just ignoring the entire thing.

“You always say I’m pretending.” you laughed, “Honestly, I’m not.” you lied. Of course you lied, but looking back maybe you had overreacted at his change of attitude. Now, you were just curious.

“Then stop ignoring the fact that I was rude to you.”

“You say that as if I’ve only been an angel to you.”

Sirius was taken aback by your words. Eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as he blankly stared at you. In his eyes you had been a perfect angel. Then again, James thought Lily was nothing but perfect to him and everyone else could see that, even if Lily did his best friend no harm, she wasn’t exactly nice.

“I asked something that was in no way of my concern and you had every right to react the way you did.” you said, leaving him speechless as you continued “I have no reason to not be nice to you. You are nothing but kind to me and I was just curious,” you said, the words leaving your mouth before you registered you were rambling “Regulus is my best friend but he rarely talks of you, he is really private. Not that I blame him, I’m the same. But all this time I thought you were this mean older brother that tormented him and me, being his friend, I took the blind decision of not liking you. And then you went and started talking to me, Merlin only knows why, and you’re nice and I’m confused.” you finished, breathing out before you locked eyes with him, his slightly wide eyes looking back at you “...and curious.” you added hesitantly, realizing all that you said. Your hand covered your mouth, letting out a groan as you threw your head back.

Only the sound of a low chuckle brought you back from the slightly embarrassed feeling, making you lower your head with an almost pained look on your face.

“You’re adorable.” he said, his usual grin returning to his face.

Your blank stare at his words turned into one of fake annoyance as you faced your side “Right,” you huffed “You’ve told me that before.”

And I’ll keep reminding you. He thought, but restrained himself from actually saying it as he had more pressing matters in his mind.

“You said you were… Curious?” he asked, recalling your words with his own curiosity. “About what?”

You bit your lip lightly, lowering your eyes and folding the parchment on your lap, putting aside “You…” you admitted in a whisper “I mean, that night when we first met left me with thousands of questions but no answers.” you shared, taking a quick glance in his direction as you considered him. He really had been nothing but nice to you, annoying and a little insistent but still nice; maybe talking to him would do more good than harm.

“I asked Regulus about you.” you said, capturing his attention instantly “He reacted the same way you did, actually.” a breathy laugh escaped your lips as you remembered, shaking your head “He didn’t say much, just that you weren’t close.”

Sirius let out a bitter chuckle, moving to sit more comfortably “We used to be.” he said “Before I left, that is.”

“Left?”

He nodded, seeing your face remain the same. So Regulus really keeps to himself, even with you. “I left home.” he explained with the tilt of his head “Let’s just say that my mother and I didn’t agree with each other.”

Sirius almost wanted to laugh, saying he and Walburga Black didn’t agree with each other was putting it lightly. It felt like giving you the ocean and saying it only contained water, but how much water did the ocean hold inside it? What else hid in the depths that no one dared to explore?

“Is that why you said you and Regulus had different ideals?” you asked him, seeing his thoughts die inside his eyes as he came back to the present, back to you.

“He chose his side.” Sirius said with a nod “Still wrapped around my dear mother’s finger.”

You felt the knot in the stomach start to form, the words leaving Sirius’ mouth too vague and yet precise to be confused with anything else. You felt a thousand emotions cross your face, your mouth trying to form words but being too slow to keep up with the train of thought currently running inside your head. Ideals was a rare word to use in day to day conversations, but one that came up more considering the times and the current situation in the Wizarding World. There was a Dark wizard rising and everyone knew what his ideals were, his ideals were known and held highly among the families that stood next to him, supported him. Old families that thought themselves above the rest of the witches and wizards because of the blood flowing through their veins. A blood redder than the ones of Muggles. Purebloods. Purebloods just like the Noble House of Black.

You swallowed the fear rising inside you, forcing a smile to your face as you tried to come up with words but none came.

“I was surprised when you showed me how close you two are.” he continued, only making your stomach drop “Maybe he’s just scared.” he said, mostly to himself but you could hear him perfectly “He is the perfect son, you know?” The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, sadness laced in between his words “Made it to Slytherin, obbeys Mother, respects Father.” he paused, lowering his head “Hates his traitor brother.” he murmured.

Your eyes snapped at him, frozen in your spot as you stared at him. Your hand moved out of its own will, finding his clutching to the edge of the fountain. Gently, you placed your hand over his, the cold of your hand a shock with the warmth of his skin.

He forced his head up, his eyes following the feeling of your skin, turning his hand over to wrap his fingers around your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a slow motion.

“He isn’t like that.” you murmured, watching as he held your hand closer to him.

Whether you meant Regulus’ opinions on him or blood status, he didn’t care. Somehow, as selfish as he felt in that moment, he just cared that you had let him in, that you had reached for his hand. He wondered if you would have done the same if you weren’t alone, if Regulus wasn’t away; he wondered what would happen when everything went back to normal.

He let go of your hand, turning to his side to avoid the look in your face. He found he didn’t want to know if it was disappointment or relief what took over your features.

“Sirius.” you called, voice soft and gentle. “He isn’t like that.” you repeated.

He gave you a soft nod. Even if he didn’t believe it, he surprised himself by actually wanting to. For your sake, for himself.

“I really hope you’re right.”

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Marauders

@destourtereaux

[barzzal]

Soft lazy (maybe even stormy) Sundays with Mat where he has no game that day. Where you two can just lay in bed having sex for an hour or two before getting up. But it seems no matter what you two do around the house it somehow always leads to sex. Making breakfast? Check. Cleaning up after breakfast? Check. Watching tv? Check. Doing laundry? Check. A mid-day nap because all that sex makes you two tired? Not before another round or two, and again when you two wake up.

warnings: nsfw (18+) smut, sexual and suggestive themes, here we go yet another unprotected sesh :< suit up babies, cock warming, sort of lazy intercourse (i just need to be loved don’t attack me), established relationship + and a shortie

“it’s not a cat!”

“for a thousand dollars, you'd think at least it'd come with hair.”

“all right listen ball boys! my grandmother had one of these when I was a little girl and it was the sweetest thing! I mean it was so cute, it would sit in my lap and purr all day long, and I would drag a shoestring on the ground and he would chase it!”

“free cats do that too, y’know.”

“it’s not a cat!”

the television booming throughout the room sounded so distant to you and mathew. after a long tiring day of doing laundry and the rest of the chores while managing to get a little too handsy a couple of times, you both decided to just chill in the living room and leave ‘friends’ on so mat could finally catch up on your favorite/comfort series.

knowing mathew, and sadly, being that you were technically as horny as him most of the time, the little kisses he’s pressing lightly on your shoulder with his tongue sliding out every now and then as his large hand caressed your thighs; made it a little hard for you to concentrate on the show you’ve seen countless times and already remember in excruciating details.

“baby,” you mutter, almost inaudible under all the laziness pressing on you as you lay down the couch squeezed in quite a tight space with mathew.

mat answers you with a hum, clearly in the same state as you were. you let out a sigh, stirring in your position to angle your ass more on his front, “you’re turning me on.” you whine in protest, annoyed that you were still so down for him but that you were far too indolent to even dare to lift a finger to do anything about it. knowing yourself, you know you wouldn’t be able to get shit done and you need to put your sole trust on your athletic boyfriend.

“oh yeah?” mat responds, burying his head in your hair taking all your scent with him. “uh-huh.”

“we can do something about that.” mat proposes in the same volume as you.

“i know, but i don’t feel like moving though.” you tell him.

“babe...” you shrug when he didn’t answer, making his head move in the process.

“do you wanna?” you inquire.

“yeah, okay–” mat surrenders and takes one for the team, finally fighting his own slothful tendencies.

at this point, he was sure that the 21 year-old mat would laugh at what he’s become: a lazy old man too tired to function, even more so to get laid which was like— a mat barzal staple, if you would have it. to make matters worse for him, it was 1 in the fucking afternoon.

mat’s hands travel down the waistband of your shorts and you help him get the whole thing by pulling away from him so he could drag the material off you even just below your knee. you do him a great favor by shimmying it the rest of the way, letting it slide through your sock-covered feet.

mat, on the one hand, got busy with pulling out his half hardened dick, immediately letting the tip touch your behind, he proceeds on wiping his precum– despite not having too much, on your butt cheek.

“you good there?” mat asks you, ensuring that you were still alive– and hopefully awake to at least take part by taking his member in. he couldn’t go through with this without you, could he?

“wait–” you protest instead, turning to face him.

he takes himself away from you and lets you invite him in. you swing your leg just above his thighs, giving him enough room to maneuver. he takes a few of his fingers to his mouth and spits out quite a thick load of his saliva. he then slides his hand down your area, wetting your already moistened pussy even more.

“good?” you ask this time, adjusting your head on his arm that you were using as a pillow. mat nods and plants one lazy kiss on your lips before he adjust so he could position himself before your entrance.

the two of you rest your forehead together, letting yourselves adjust to each other.

“if we fall asleep like this, it wouldn’t be so bad, y’know.” he says quietly with his eyes closed.

you chuckle tirelessly. “i know— but don’t sleep. i don’t wanna be still fucking in my dreams.”

mat snickers, pressing his body onto yours, starting to buck his hips with slow thrusts inside you, “as long as it’s me that you’re fucking, i’m never pulling out.”

it’s wet weekends!

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter four // three days on drunken sin

summary: bucky decides to rifle through those boxes and finds the will to make the first move.

warnings: food/eating, nothing too bad this time!

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: how are we feeling about this week’s episode?? we’re getting closer to the start of tfatws with this chapter!! hope i don’t break your heart too much with the boxes :)

[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

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The boxes taunted him for three days.

Three stacks of two boxes each cluttered his entranceway, each with that familiar scrawl of Steve’s God-awful handwriting.

‘BUCKY’

All caps, in black Sharpie, underlined three times just for good measure. Steve was always good at getting his message across.

He didn’t want to know what was in them, he told himself. But Steve was gone, and this was all he had left. These, that stupid notebook he still hadn’t found the will to write in, and the shield that was kicking around Sam’s apartment somewhere.

He wanted to toss them in his building’s dumpster, to push these aside like he did with everything else in his life. Out of sight, out of mind. That week, he didn’t tell his therapist about the boxes, or Sam’s unexpected visit, or his neighbor that he was now avoiding like the plague. Thankfully, she chalked his silence up to Steve and tried to fill in the conversational lulls with suggestions of amends and lists and he just wanted to go back to sleep.

Like always, sleep never came.

He knew the single night in his bed was a fluke, but he kept trying at least. He’d untuck his flat sheet from under hit mattress, fluff his pillow, and tuck himself in. Within five minutes, he was back on the hardwood floor of his living room, the lamplights illuminating his window and casting a perfect shadow on those stupid boxes. Finally, on the third night, he huffed a sigh and sat up, his arm whirring at the sudden movement. He wasn’t accomplishing anything letting them sit and gather dust.

Bucky reached under the cushions of his couch, fishing for the knife he had stashed away and got to work slicing through the clear packing tape securing each one.

The first five boxes were files. Mission reports, everything Steve could get his hands on about The Winter Soldier. The translations were rough, the descriptions weren’t as vivid as he remembered them now, and it wasn’t even close to everything. Why Steve kept them when Bucky was working to erase every trace of this from the universe, he would never understand. Steve was sentimental, even with the bad stuff. Bucky glanced over the files scattered across his entranceway, which maybe amounted to a year of his missions. If Zemo had looked in some suburb in upstate New York, he would have found everything he needed.

The dumpster behind his building was starting to feel more and more enticing.

The last box felt different. Significantly lighter and smaller, the items rolling and clanking as he dragged it towards him. He braced himself for more files, more reminders of what he had done as though they didn’t exist in his mind every second of the day.

The first thing he recognized was his mother’s handwriting. ‘Recipes’, scrawled so perfectly on a yellowing label.

The tin box was tinted with age, dented after so many years. He laughed and could remember it tucked away on the top shelf of the cabinet by the fridge, just out of Rebecca’s reach, even when she’d stand on her tiptoes in search of it. His Ma rarely fished it out, other than to let his little sister read over the ingredients with sticky hands as she helped stir pots and peel potatoes. She had them memorized by the time she was a teenager, having transcribed her own mother’s recipes onto these little cards. He was sure Rebecca did, too.

Next was the worn fabric of his Ma’s favorite apron. Yellow embroidered flowers scattered the crimped edge, strings falling loose. He recognized some of the stains, from spaghetti night and cake batter that she let dry on the cloth for too long.

Finally, a worn silver chain was buried at the bottom of the box.

JAMES B BARNES 32557038 T42 A

Of course, Steve with all his connections and know-it-all attitude and ‘I can do this all day’ would find some way to find his dog tags, probably tucked away in some ancient Hydra file. His flesh fingers ran over the indentation of his name, pressed into metal like millions of other boys had, off to fight a war that had nothing to do with them. Everything to lose, nothing to gain.

When he was most alone, settled into muddy trenches with wet socks and a stiff military jacket, he would recite those numbers out into the night sky. He’d map constellations over his head, wondering if it would be his last night and all there would be left of him would be those stupid discs of metal clanking around his neck and the letter tucked away in his jacket breast pocket, addressed to his mother.

His mother was long gone, he knew that. But to a fully conscious James Buchanan Barnes – not the Winter Soldier - he had only seen her a few years ago when he shipped off.

After a moment, he pulled the chain of his dog tags over his head, settling them under his shirt. His ears rung with the sound of footsteps in the hallway. The sound of dragging feet and the jangle of your keychain signaled your return from class.

His family was gone, Steve included. The only people he has left are halfway across the world, or off on some death-defying mission wearing metal bird wings. Except you, who still leaves bags of cookies on his front door mat, despite the silent treatment from his end. His maybe too friendly neighbor who poured over lists of albums for him to find taped to his door in barely legible handwriting when you should have been studying.

His mother’s recipe box was calling his name.

-

The knock on your door startled you from your nap. Well, if you can call dozing off at your desk using a law book as a makeshift pillow a nap. You stalled in your desk chair, eyes bleary as you squinted at your front door, then at the top corner of your computer.

2:36 AM

You nuzzled back into your book, content to chalk it up to your sleep deprived brain making things up.

The second knock was much more insistent and was certainly coming from your door. You rushed out of your chair, sock-clad feet dragging the blanket draped across your shoulders as you shuffled over, the knocking never ceasing. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, peering out your peephole into the dark hallway.

Bucky, with slumped shoulders and a bowed head, trying with all of his might to make himself as small as possible still took up so much of the doorway with his broad shoulders.

You should be mad at him.

You should go to bed, ignore him like he’d been ignoring you for the past few weeks. Like you hadn’t shared late nights and he hadn’t sat in your kitchen, licking your spoons clean or tucked into your couch just to watch you study, a new record playing gently. Your forehead pressed to the door, vile building in your throat as seething words collected on your tongue.

“I know you’re there.” His voice was muffled through the wooden door, feeling so close but sounding so far away. “We should work on you dragging your feet, doll.”

If you had taken another peek, you would have seen him pressing his forehead to the other side.

“You ignored me, Bucky.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, even through the door. “Some family stuff came up. But it’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

It’s so stupid, letting yourself get so attached to the first guy to bat his eyelashes and read to you. It’s idiotic to want him to seep into your days and nights, to never leave like he had left you, after only knowing each other for a month.

It’s so foolish to open the door. But you do it anyways.

He swallows as he stands straight, and the widening of his eyes tells you that he wasn’t expecting you to give him a second chance.

“I, uh, here. Thought I’d finally return the favor.”” Bucky shoves forward a plate of cookies, misshapen and unevenly cooked. His eyes finally found yours. “My mom’s recipe.”

Family stuff, you remembered. The weight of the plate felt heavy in your hands, almost as heavy as his gaze on you as you lifted one of the lesser burnt cookies to your mouth and took a timid bite.

Bucky, you’ve come to learn, gives his love in silent acts of approval. He shines when you tell him his singing isn’t totally awful or that he makes a great sous chef, eyes crinkling when you approve of his music choice for the night or compliment the voices he picks when reading from his books. As he watched you, you felt that this cookie meant more to him then just flour and eggs.

He was reaching out, terrified of your rejection.

“You made these?”

“Alright, I’m not totally helpless.”

“They’re amazing, Bucky. Your mom should be proud.”

He returned your smile, knowing that she wouldn’t be. How could she, after all that his hands have done? Hands that should’ve been home, hoisting his sisters onto his shoulders. Hands that should have been helping set the table and at work so they had something to eat in the first place.

He looked so timid in your hallway, unsure of the next move. You rolled your eyes, moving to clear your doorway, despite his hesitation.

“Come on.” You spoke, like ushering in a stray cat with the promise of food and love.

He took the first step forward, shoulder to shoulder, head tilted down to catch your playful gaze with his serious one. Your mouth opened to make some sort of quip to ease the tension, but the words died in your throat as he pressed his forehead against yours for just a second.

His eyes closed as he drew in a single serene breath through his nose.

He was gone as quickly as he had come, moving further into your apartment and directly to your shelves of records, gloved fingers grazing over the sleeves in contemplation for his first choice of the night. As you finally collected yourself enough to close the door, you wondered how many people in the world had ever loved Bucky Barnes enough to give him a second chance.

taglist: @tisthedamninez @wcndamaxcmoff @freyagallileaevans @bibliophilewednesday @justtoreblogfics @teti-menchon0604 @l-adysansa @heart-eyes-horan @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @rexorangecouny @dilfvision @urafakebetch @comphersjost @am-tired-bois @spid3rgwen @beautyandthebleh @euphoricaaaa @inadquacy @mackycat11 @withyoutilltheendofthismess @motherofallthesmallthings @victoriabaker112213 @macrillez @stvalentiness @nova10711 @tailsoflightning @okiegirl24 @qhbr2013 @beachbabe925 @weenersoldierr @venusinart @marvel-mistress @orthellqs @phasma-trash @beni-angie @infinitely-yellow @riverlethe1

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

[desiredmalfoy]

True Love Is Eternal (D.M x Reader + F.W. x Reader)

Pairing: Draco x Reader, Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Note this is going to be changing from 1st person to 2nd and 3rd person.

Enjoy the final installment of the Dear Malfoy Series! Fred’s POV! Thank you for everyone who has shown love to my writing! You don’t know how much I appreciate it (it means a lot to me). 

Dear Malfoy [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]  (Masterlist)

The invitation to your wedding invitation came suddenly in the mail. It came addressed to the Weasley family, which I guess includes me. No, it did include me. You put that in the invitation. I didn’t even realize that I was holding in my breath as I opened up the intricate wedding invitation. The Malfoys are not sparing any expense on this. He would give you nothing but the best in life. He had been fine for the past couple of years, he had managed to get you out of his head for the longest time. He had even been in a serious relationship but that did work out. But it seems like the news of your wedding brought all these feelings back. Maybe all these old feelings resurfacing because of the news of your marriage but not because he actually still loved her. Or maybe in the back of his mind, he’d always wish you would have a moment of revelation where you realized who truly loved him.

                                 We are honored to invite you to

                                       the unity of marriage of

                                         Draco Lucius Malfoy 

                                                       &

                                        (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)

Your name is written in beautiful intricate gold cursive. Taunting me with every letter written. He ran his fingers over where your name was printed, reminiscing of the moments he had with you.

It was the middle of summer and the both of you were laying on the grass outside the burrow. You were looking up at the night sky admiring the millions of stars. Moments like these were the ones he hoped were forever.

“What do you want to do when we leave this place”,  Fred had asked her out of nowhere. 

“Get my own place. I love my parents but I want to have my own space.” 

“Oh! And get a kitten!” (Y/N) excitedly added. “I really want to get a kitten.”

“I’ll get you as many as you would like”, he said as he hugged her tightly.

“Is this your way of asking me to move in with you”, she teased him and his cheeks had become red from blushing. 

“Not yet but one day in the future hopefully.” He answered as he envisioned them with a few cats and maybe a baby or two. “And you know I’ll have my shop by then too.”

He wished he could go to the past. 

——-

Fred dwelled on the thought of going to your wedding. The invitation had been extended to the entire family, including him. After everything that had occurred, (y/n) had always been on good terms with the rest of the Weasley family. She had even eventually forgiven George for not telling her. George had explained to him that she forgave him to let go of the past and move on. 

Fred had thought he would keep on seeing you every summer as the previous ones before. You had always come to stay at least for a couple of days to see Ron and Ginny before you dated him. But the summer after his 7th year and (y/n)’s 5th it all changed. He anticipated your arrival but didn’t want to ask any of his siblings if they knew you’d be coming over. He stupidly thought that he would be able to at least fix your friendship that summer. It wasn’t until he had overheard a conversation between Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry that he knew you weren’t going to show up.

“I received an owl from her today.”, Ginny said excitedly as she sat down, a white envelope in her hand. 

“How is she? I miss her greatly this summer.” Hermione asked as she reached for that same envelope from Ginny. 

“She said she’s definitely enjoying Paris with Draco.”

“He took her to Paris”, Ron asked, shocked at the revelation. “The bloke has only been dating her for like eight months and he’s already taking her on expensive trips?’

“It’s Malfoy. Did you expect anything less”, Harry answered with a slight eye roll. “He’d buy her a castle if she would just let him.”

“I knew Malfoy always goes all out but I didn’t think he would take her on vacation so soon!”

“What do you expect?” Ginny laughed at Ron’s still confused expression. “He’s madly in love with her. He’s even nice to Harry of all people just for her.”

“That was the most surprising thing of all”, Hermione agreed with her with a giggle. “Who knew all it took to stop Malfoy from being such a prat was for (y/n) to date him.”

“I mean he even called Harry by his first name the last time we saw him instead of Potter”, Ron added to the conversation. 

“I still miss her this summer”, Ginny complained with a groan. “It’s not the same without her.”

That was the beginning of you spending every summer with Draco instead of at the Burrow with the Weasley’s like every other summer. 

———

He was walking along Hogsmeade after a long day of work. He was headed towards the Three Broomsticks to meet up with George who had taken a few days off from the shop that day. He hadn’t been feeling well the past few days and Fred had told him to stay home. He was finally feeling better and to celebrate, George had asked him to meet there for a couple of drinks. It was a pretty calm evening with a few people walking about the area. Fred mostly went unnoticed by others just trying to get home for the night. 

That’s when he saw you coming out of the dress store with your mother and Narcissa Malfoy by your side. (Y/N) had a huge grin on her face as she carried a large white box with a beautiful ribbon to tie it all up. It was your wedding dress. He just knew it was that. A large smile decorated your face as you seemed ecstatic about the contents of the box. He turned quickly into a different alleyway to avoid running into you. 

He was going to be needing something stronger than butterbeer tonight. 

——-

Fred and George were currently on their way to their parent’s home to visit them for the evening. Life had been hectic and he hadn’t had a chance to see them in a couple of days. Plus it was one night where he would not have to cook for himself and George. Nothing beats a home-cooked meal from your mum on days like these. 

They didn’t even bother knocking as they entered the home. 

“Mum your favorites have arrived”, Fred announced loudly teasingly as he saw Ron sitting on the couch. 

“I didn’t know Charlie and Bill were dropping by”, Ron said without lifting his gaze from the book on his lap.

“That hurts Ronnie”, George played around as he wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

“Anyway, where is mum?”

“They’re upstairs trying on the bridesmaid dressed for the future Mrs. Malfoy’s wedding”, Ron said with a snicker. “Mione and Ginny I mean.”

“I still can’t believe that it’s coming up so soon”, Fred responded as he sat next down to his brother. 

“I am just excited about the food”, George said with a laugh. “I know it will be good.”

“Nice to know you care about me”, a teasing voice said from the stairs. Fred knew that voice and giggle anywhere. They all turned to where the voice was coming from.

“You know what I mean”, George said with a smile. He got up and greeted (y/n) with a hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”

He caught a glimpse of your engagement ring shining in light. Only the best for you.

“I’ve been busy”, she answered simply. “Weddings are a big thing to plan. Especially one that is only a about a two weeks away”

“How the joke shop?” (Y/N) questioned George. “Ginny has told me it’s been going amazingly for you two.”

“Right it has been”, George agreed. “Those Hogwarts kids are great customers. Right, Freddie?”

“Way to make us seem old Georgie”, Fred laughed as he looked directly at her. “It’s nice to see you (y/n).”

“Nice to see you too Fred”, she said, giving him a friendly smile. Not the same one she would give him years ago. 

“Are you staying for dinner darling”, mum said as she came down the stairs with Ginny and Hermione trailing just behind. 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley”, (y/n) apologized. “I would love to but I had promised my parents I’d be eating with them tonight. Plus I still have to get home and see if Draco is back from work.”

You’d made a home with him already. One that he had promised you all those years ago.

“Don’t worry darling.” Mum said with a gentle smile. “You’re invited to dinner whenever you would like.”

“Thank you so much.” (Y/N) said as she hugged mum goodbye. She waved to everyone else and she was gone out the door. 

———

The day of the wedding finally came and he had decided to go. He wanted an opportunity to see you dressed in white. Fred walked over with his family to the Malfoy Manor. They’re escorted to the garden in the back to wait for the beginning of the ceremony. It was decorated with your favorite flowers, white roses. Flowers that symbolized innocence, youthfulness, eternal loyalty. 

The eternal loyalty you were about to pledge to Malfoy for the rest of your lives. 

Fred anxiously waited for the ceremony to start. He looked around the space and saw many of his former classmates interacting with each other. It wasn’t long before the ceremony started. 

Draco enters….

Your wedding party enters….

Everyone stands for your entrance….

The wedding march starts….

You walk down the aisle hand in hand with your father. You looked stunning in your wedding dress. Darling how I wish I was the one watching you walk towards me. You don’t spare a glance to where I’m standing. I’m probably the farthest thing from your mind. And I’m glad you don’t because I don’t think my heart would take it. He watches on a Malfoy cries at the sight of you walking towards him. Fred knew if he was in his place he’d probably do the same.

Because even though all I want to do is run up to that alter and tell you exactly how I feel, I simply won’t. I've seen how happy you are with him, and I can't ever do that to you. Even though I sit here to watch you wed another man and break my heart in the process. 

Why am I even here? Why did I even come? 

He watches as you pledge your love for Draco. Vowing to stay with him every moment of your lives together. He watched as you said “I do” through your tears. 

You make such a lovely bride. Maybe in another lifetime or reality, you’re mine. But in this one darling, we just weren’t meant to be. 

Maybe in another lifetime, I’ll be able to hold you close and never let go. In this one, I foolishly took you for granted and let you slip from my arms into the firm grasp of another man. 

I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t resist seeing you in white. 

Because sometimes two souls are only meant to just be in each other’s life for a while; awaiting the lifetime where they’ll meet again but this time forever. 

Alternative Ending:

Fred stood alone in his shop tonight. Wanting to throw himself into work to ignore the pain in his chest. He took another swing of the bottle of fire whisky in an attempt to drown out all the intrusive thoughts running through his mind. He spent the evening thinking about how he wished it was him marrying you, waiting at the end of the aisle. You’d be getting married next week and he couldn’t do anything about it. He knew he messed up all those years ago, and he’d do anything to turn back time. 

He heard the door chime as someone opened the door. He must have forgotten to lock up in his current state. 

“We’re closed”, he yelled out towards the door. He didn’t bother to lift his head to talk to them. Not wanting to be seen in this state. 

“Freddie?”

This caused an instant reaction from him. He’d know that voice anywhere.

“(Y/N/N)”, he whispered. He was afraid you’d disappear at any moment. A hallucination.

“I missed you. I need you.”

“I missed you too.”

I know it’s not the best alternative ending but I kind of left it open for the reader to decide. It is a little something for those who would choose Fred instead. Do they realize they actually loved Fred after all this time? Is Fred just losing it and imagining this? It’s up to you to decide!

Click here for Valentine’s Day Shipping

Taglist: @keepsmilingandstayhappy @sarcasticallywitty15 @adrianpuceyishot @dracoismybabey @little-me204 @loveforreading @stephaniewinchester-weasley @cronen 

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

[kaz11283]

44 and 45 for writing prompts?

44) Close Your Eyes

45) Will You Marry me

Your Favorite Suprise

Warnings: fluff

Characters: Your favorite God of Mischief, Nat, Clint (brother, I know I have a weird problem ok?), Steve, Tony, Thor

Summary: you and Loki had been dating for a while now it only made since that he wants to take the next step.

Announcements: Ah yes, while I should be working on the next chapter of my series Im doing a Loki Request list...makes sense to me. I have decided to start posting a chapter a week and I have decided to start posting The chapters on Fridays. But I'll probably still be doing one shots and drabbles randomly during the week along with request. *its like really early in the morning here so if I am not making any sense i will probably post another update soon.* love you guys, thank you for the request! 💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

~~~~~~

Loki had been distant all day, he wasnt in any of the normal places that he normally would have been. You had checked in the library, his room, even the lab none held signs that the god had been there all day.

"Guys, have you by any chance seen Loki?" You asked walking into the living room where your brother and Nat were wrestling, for some unknown reason, Thor and Steve sat watching.

"Tall guy, wears to much green, pointy hat?" Clint choked out from a chokehold. Sometimes you wondered if you were really the oldest with the way he acted.

"Last time I seen my brother he was heading out to the large balcony on the top floor with a rather heavy looking box." Thor called over his shoulder. "No no no Hawkman, you odviously doing it wrong. Let me show you." He said getting up walking over to the two on the floor.

"Whatever, he'll know where to find me I guess." You said jumping over the back of the couch sitting down next to Steve.

"Hey! No jumping on the furniture. I swear its like I live in a house full of kids between you and Parker jumping and flying around." Tony yelled from the kitchen door.

Steve rolled his eyes and looked at you. "Thor is trying to show them some Asguardian fighting moves. Nat picked up pretty fast, your brother on the other hand..."

"He does better in a roost high above the ground. Only reason I use to hate fighting with him is because he could climb higher than I could." You laughed.

"Ok Lord Thunder if you can do better be my guest." Clint took a step back allowing Thor to stand in. Thor gave a bellowing laugh and got in a fighting stance.

"My people invented these moves I can easily take down Nat."

After a few rounds and Thor definitly losing causing the room to howl with laughter at his confusion Loki walked in.

"So the man of mysteries returns. Where have you been darling." You asked as he came to stand beside you.

"Just working on a suprise for you my dearest." He laughed leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

"Please stop, there are young eyes in the room." Clint groaned from a recliner across from you causing you to roll your eyes.

"Yeah, if your going by shoe size." You mocked. Turning to Loki you looked at him. "What does the god of mischief have up his sleave for me?"

"Come dear, I would rather show you." He offered you his hand and you walked from the room.

He lead you to the room where the balcony was located and turned to you. "Close your eyes."

"Ummm why? You planning on pushing me off?" You laughed realizing that he had a serious look on his face. "Nevermind." You closed your eye, as soon as they were shut you felt a cloth wrap around your head. "If you wnted something like this all you had to do was ask." You smirked.

"Oh nine realms y/n. Get your mind out of the gutter for just a little bit." You couldnt see it but you knew he was rolling his eyes. "This is serious." You could hear the smile in his voice.

"Ok fine, serious, I can be serious for like 5 minutes. I cant guarantee the comments that will follow after the time is up though." You laughed.

"Sometimes I feels like I'm dating your brother." He huffed taking your hand and leading you onto the balcony.

"We are basically the same person, I just look alot better than he does in a cat suit." He let go of your hand just after walking out of the door and disappered.

"You know that mouth is one of my favorit things about you." He whispered in your ear cauing your heart to flutter. "Always quick to the punch, it never fails." He said kissing the side of your mouth.

"But my absolute favorit thing about you is your willingness to over look a persons flaws, to give everyone a chance, even if they dont deserve it. You have such an open mind forgiving everyone that you feel need forgiving. Looking for the good in a person and giving that person hope that maybe there is hope left for them." This time he brushed your hair from your neck kissing you behind the ear sending a shiver down your spine.

"Loki you was never a bad person-" you saod trying to defend him aginst hisself

"I brainwashed your brother." He countered. "You didnt just do it for me though. You stood up for Wanda, for Bucky, you stand up for the underdogs that wouldnt have a chance other wise."

"Wanda needed a family, Bucky was Steves best friend and I seen how it hurt him for eveyone to be aginst him. Also brainwashed. Im kinda seeing a pattern here though." You smiled.

"Y/n, honestly would you jusy be quiet for a few more minutes." He sighed.

"Ok, lips are sealed. Continue telling me how great I am." He sighed again pulling you closer to the middle of the balcony.

"You have been my light in the darkest tunnel I had ever been in. When the others shut me out you were always there to let me know I wasnt alone. I could travel to all nine realms and never find another soul as caring and as trust worthy as you, who holds me at night when nightmares wake me up, who actually seen good in me and who has made me a better person." You felt him reach behind you and untie the knot from the blind, you kept your eyes closed as you felt him grab your hand again this time there was a slight pull. "Darling you can open your eyes."

When you opened them you were awestruck with the sight in front of you. Farie lights had been hung from the rafters causing a warm glow around the balcony, ivy and white flowers hand been drapped on the walls givingbthe whole place a cozy feel. You looked at Loki noticing him kneeling in front of you, you opened your mouth to make a comment but quicky shut it not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Y/n Barton there is no one else I would rather travel the nine realms with but you, I would walk across time and space to see you smile. Would you please do me the honor of being my princess? My Queen? For all eternity? Will you marry me?" He pulled out a small black box for his pocket and opened it revealing a silver band entwind with a beautiful type of black metal a small emerald sat nestled between the two holding the jewel in place. Your eyes shot up to his and tears started to flow. You didnt trust you voice in that moment son you simply shook your head.

He was on his feet in no time easily slipping the band on your finger before wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you close to him. You placed your hands on either side of his face pulling him into you for a kiss. "Yes." You mumbled aginst his lips as he smiled into the kiss. "A million times yes!"

"We are going to have a wedding!" Thor yelled from the open door causing you both to jump. You looked up in time to see everyone that had been in the living room crowed around watching the two of you. "Lady y/n, a fine sister you will make!" Thor beamed picking you up into a crushing hug.

"You can have her! Ive had her as a sister long enough." Clint said beside you as he leaned down to kiss you cheek. "Congrats sis."

"You knew didnt you?" You smiled.

"Of course I did. Hes kinda old school, asked if it would be ok if he asked you. Nice guy, once you get past the whole mind control thing." You smacked his in the chest.

"In my defence you did try to shoot me woth an arrow that exploded." Loki said wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Ill take back the approval to marry my sister." He saod looking straight at him.

"No you wont, ive already said yes. Besides he really makes me happy. Truly honestly happy." You smiled looking up at Loki giving him another kiss.

~~~~~~

Tag list:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@high-functioning-lokipath

[katnissmellarkkk]

Chapter Three

Hiiii, all you cool cats and kittens 😂😂😂😂. Okay but seriously, imma just word vomit all the things I need to cover in this author’s note — that I can remember.

I’ve been writing this chapter for like a week, I’m super nervous about it, I’m really sorry if this angst is upsetting you, I am gonna do my best to make it all right in the end, the angst is gonna continue though for a bit longer, yes this fic is only 10 chapters, yes I still want your comments even if you’re upset, my eye is still having trouble so I can’t look at a computer screen for too long because it physically hurts so I’m editing on my phone and there is a high chance I’ll re-edit these chapters after my eye isn’t all Heltor Skeltor anymore.

Okay I think that’s everything, I very much am gratefully for all the feedback I’ve received and I hope you all continue to read this fic.

Peeta stayed for hours after that. He smiled and laughed and, for a while, made me forget all about my unbearable loneliness, how empty this home feels, how uncomfortable I am with the prospect of my mother moving on with her life, how much I really miss my sister right now.

How I miss my sister more than anything.

He still makes me feel safe, I realized, as we sat on the couch and ate our third helping of the chocolate cake he’d baked for me. He knows how much I love chocolate from all the meals we shared on the train.

“Actually, from the time you decided to just eat the chocolate fountain by itself,” he had corrected. Off my quizzical look, he added, “At Snow mansion? We were there for a party?”

“Our engagement party?” I amended, teasing him a little.

My attempt at levity works as I watch his mouth contort into smirk in response. “Sorry, I guess I forgot what party it was.”

“They did drag us to a lot of them,” I agreed, not foreseeing the jab he was about to throw.

“And you pigged out at every one of them.”

I pretended to be offended for a moment but his proud laughter made me lose the facade far sooner than I should have. The joyful glint to his gaze, the way his body language was relaxed and open, the way he seemed to remember small details of our shared past now, I just couldn’t hold even a false grudge against him. I just couldn’t help giggling alongside him.

But he had to leave around dinner time, having an appointment to get the construction for the new rebuilt bakery approved and in motion.

As soon as he departs, and I’m left once again inside a void, hallow house that only emphasizes the greatest loss of my life—the one I’ll probably never go a single day without feeling the ache of—I decide I need to leave too. I decide as soon as I glance around the empty place that it’d be in my best interest to get out as well, to prolong the inevitable despair the deserted home brings come nightfall.

My first thought is to drop off the liquor I picked up for Haymitch a few days ago at the train station. He was passed out drunk and I was already there and it seemed at the time like a good bargaining chip when he was feeling particularly caustic towards me. Which lately had been often.

Now it just poses a good excuse to go talk to the sour man, to perhaps pick his brain about Bailey Robyn. To perhaps see what he knows that I don’t about the mysterious girl who blew into both our lives.

And only evidently disturbed one of them.

He has clearly has gotten to know her better than I have, and he’s quite transparently taken quite a liking to her. If I want to know this girl, or even begin to understand what Peeta sees in her, it only makes sense to get Haymitch to share some details in exchange for his favorite liquor.

After all, our entire relationship has always been a series of bargains, one way or another.

Throughout mine and Peeta’s entire time together—which amounted to the whole afternoon—he had never once mentioned Bailey. He hadn’t said she was waiting for him or what she thought about the cake or if she even knew he would be at my house today.

And for some reason that led me to assume she was busy in town somewhere. That she was working on the salon she mentioned wanting to start up, that she was out doing things herself, that she wasn’t even concerned with Peeta celebrating my birthday today.

That she wasn’t sitting on Haymitch’s counter, talking to him about that very subject.

“It just doesn’t make me feel great, you know?” Her clear and high voice rings out from the window right as I’m gearing up to barge my way inside the pig sty. “I want to go with him, in case he has an episode or something, and he tells me no. Like flat out, full stop, no.”

I slip in through the unlocked front door, quiet as a mouse, eavesdropping like I know I shouldn’t. Like I know is a complete violation of privacy, both for Bailey and for Haymitch. And maybe even Peeta, since he’s the one they’re conferring about.

“He’s stubborn,” Haymitch agrees, sounding more sober than I’ve heard him in months. Sounding more sober than I’ve seen since we were in Thirteen. “Try mentoring him in the games.”

Bailey scoffs at that. “No. You couldn’t pay me enough.”

They share a laugh and I feel my hands tighten around the bottle, as an extremely uncomfortable sensation settles into the pit of my stomach.

They sound like old friends. They sound happy and pleased to be hanging out and conversing. And if I’m being honest, it gives me one more reason to instinctively dislike Bailey, despite the fact that I’m trying hard not to.

Because in the short time she’s been in Twelve, she’s slid into my place in both Peeta and Haymitch’s lives with complete and utter ease. Even beyond taking my place, she’s outrankedme in both men’s lives and entirely knocked me out of the saddle.

That’s what disturbs me above all else. Because—even though I’d never admit it about Haymitch—they were mine. They were my family. They were all I had. They were my haven from the darkness surrounding my entire life. The three of us were a team once.

And now it feels like she didn’t join the group, she kicked me out of it entirely. Haymitch has never had me sit on the counter of his kitchen—not that I really wanted to, the place is absolutely filthy—and talk about my problems. He’s always mocked my feelings and troubles, when they didn’t pertain to the war or rebellion.

I don’t get what is so special about this girl that the two most important people in my life are willing to just let her in. Are just willing to let her take me out without a second thought.

“I mean, is it odd that I wanted to be included?” She inquires genuinely and to my surprise, once again, my old mentor gives her a pretty thoughtful answer. For Haymitch Abernathy, at least.

“They’re both a little weird. War messes with people. Especially kids,” he murmurs and then grunts uncomfortably. “Don’t get worked up over nothing. Just let whatever happened go and try to be happy.”

For some reason, even without hearing my name mention specifically, I’m fully convinced that they’re conversing about me as well as Peeta. About our afternoon together, void from Bailey’s presence. Without hearing my own name, I still know in my bones I walked in on a talk about me.

Bailey wanted to come today and Peeta told her no? Peeta told her an unequivocal no? Because he wanted to spend time with just me?

That satisfies me beyond measure. That makes me even happier than the carefully handcrafted birthday cake did.

Suddenly, for the first time since she’s arrived in Twelve, I don’t feel like Peeta put me on the back burner to make her more comfortable. I don’t feel like I’m being slided so she can be accommodated to her liking. And that’s a better present to me than anything else I could have asked for.

“But I’m his girlfriend,” she states quietly, before sighing deeply and setting down a glass that she must have been drinking from. Risk-taker, she is. “And I just feel like every day all he thinks about is Katniss. He’s either worried about her or afraid of her.”

Now that catches me completely off-guard. Peeta’s afraid of me? Is he telling Bailey something I don’t know? What did I do that he’s so afraid of?

Please, I internally beg to no one. Please tell me he doesn’t still think of me as a mutt. Please tell me he doesn’t feel the same way about as he did in Thirteen.

No, I venomously refute. That wouldn’t make sense. If he still thought of me that way—the way Snow tried to brainwash him into—he would surely not be baking me a cake and spending an afternoon alone with me.

At least, I don’t think so.

But I’m always wrong nowadays and I long ago learned to stop trusting my instincts because they don’t any good for me in the end anyway and I just end up more jumbled and confused and stressed than I started out.

I take a deep breath to calm myself down just as Haymitch mutters, “That description isn’t a far cry from the kid I met two years ago on the tribute train.”

Evidently, I breathed out too loudly almost immediately, Haymitch barks out, “Is that you, girl?”

Realizing I’m caught, I rip off the bandaid and step out of the corner of the entryway, where I was hiding. “Sorry, I just got here,” I quickly explain. And then, despite my atrocious acting ability, I throw out for good measure, “I didn’t hear anything you guys said, I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

Neither of them believe me. In fact, they both appear pretty disgusted with me now. But when I pass Haymitch the bottle of liquor, his features shift and I feel him lightly pat me on the head as he passes me to grab a bottle opener.

“Haymitch,” Bailey murmurs unceremoniously, as she hops off the counter with a grace I have no dream of ever possessing. “I’m going to head on home.”

Her eyes meet mine for a split second before flirting away, and all I see there is irritation.

I hope she doesn’t try again to make nice in a day or so. Quite frankly, there’s a reason I never made many friends. Social interactions aren’t my thing and they just wear me out unnecessarily. Especially girls, who only want to gossip about other people or share clothes or irrelevant life tips. I’d much rather be left alone in solitude than have to yo-yo with Bailey’s mood swings.

Haymitch has always empathized with this trait of mine. More than empathized. He embodied it to the fullest, in a way I never even have. That’s what makes it so startling to me that he’s found such a friend with Peeta’s new girlfriend. It’s downright shocking how pleasant he is towards her.

When he returns now, she’s already gone and he’s right back to his surly self.

“No one clears a room like you do, sweetheart.”

But I’m not interested in swiping back and forth with one another. “Why are you hanging out with Bailey Robyn?”

Haymitch rolls his eyes as he takes a seat at his still unwashed kitchen table.

I mean, if Bailey wanted to help clean in here, that’s where I would have suggested to start.

“The better question, Katniss, is why are youhanging out with Peeta alone? How do you think that makes his girlfriend feel?”

“He’s my friend,” I argue, infuriated by the implication that I have to go through a random stranger to be around Peeta now. Infuriated that it’s Haymitch making the implication nonetheless.

“But he isn’t!” The old man snaps back. “Peeta isn’t your friend, Katniss. You look at him like he hung the moon and you do it right in front of his new girl.”

“No, I don’t,” I retort sharply, because I definitely don’tand I repel the accusation.

“Anyone with eyes can see your stupid little crush,” he exclaims and it stings. The words sting for some reason and I feel the ache in my chest come back once again, because apparently I’m stepping over a line I didn’t even know was there and I’m once again the root of every problem and it’s all becoming too much.

Evidently, Haymitch just doesn’t care if he hurts me today. “Just back off of the boy. Let him be happy for once.”

I uncharacteristically spit an unkind name at Haymitch as I slam his door in my furious wake.

Through his still open kitchen window though, I hear him chuckle. “Well, that’s one I haven’t heard before, sweetheart.”

Read More On AO3 Where The Italics Actually Work

[peachyteez]

mint chocolate chip ice cream ≫ EPILOGUE.

this abandoned, shy bunny hybrid loves hanging around the open field area of the recovery facility. one day, with the help of jungkook, another bunny hybrid, jiyu meets mingi. after days of mingi being too shy and running away from her, a bag of carrots and mint chocolate ice chip cream was all it took to seal the deal.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist:@defsoul15, @jaeminpeachy, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn​, @alienmashup​, @panini​, @moon8894​, @koasworld​, @taetae123094​, @luv3rxcha​, @treasure-hwa​, @etherealbyeol​, @hwaseongzzz​, @lovely-sanie​, @orbitiiny​, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas​, @babydolljo​, @ms-starlight​, @everrrlasting​, @bls-luv-me​, @atzgiggle​, @arohabyeol​, @rainbowmagicpixecorn​, @soverystupid​, @ayetothezee​

✧ notes: this epilogue actually focuses on jiyu a bit more and what’s going on behind the scenes (sort of) 😅

back。

“this phone call’s a week late, miss,” yuta’s teasing tone came from the other end. 

jiyu playfuly rolled her eyes. “be glad i even called,” she retorted. she could feel yuta’s small pout and see his drooped ears. “i’m kidding, it was a busy week since we get a lot of new hybrids in the facility during the winter every year. but thank you for bringing me the papers.”

yuta hummed in acknowledgement. “i will say, though. for someone who mistreated their hybrid, she put up a pretty good fight in trying to keep him for herself, even though she made no attempts to even look for him in the first place,” yuta remembered the rigourous process it took for him to force the woman to hand over mingi’s adoption documents. 

jiyu’s face hardened as she thought about yuta’s words. “it was probably leverage over him. she knew that he couldn’t actually leave her if she still had his papers, so she kept them as a way to have mingi still obey her. it’s quite disgusting.” a shiver—both from disgust and the chilly breeze that blew by—ran through her spine. 

jiyu sat on the couch of the penthouse terrace, looking out at the bright lights of seoul during the night. even though she was adorned in her puffer jacket, she still felt the wind biting at her skin. taking her eyes off the view of the city, she turned in to look at her four hybrids curled by the fireplace, their eyes glued to the tv. it warmed her heart seeing them relax without a care in the world. 

“your father doesn’t know, does he?” yuta carefully asked. he knew the topic of her father was a sore spot for her.

biting the inside of her cheek, anxiety began to creep up in her heart at the thought of her father finding out what she’s been up to. it wasn’t that he hated hybrids; but because her late mother was also formerly a hybrid caretaker before getting married, her father’s views on hybrids soured over the years. they reminded him of his wife. 

“no, he can find out when i come back,” jiyu firmly said. “has he...said anything about me?” she meekly added. the reason she asked: she never responded to her father about her choices in potential suitors, so she had a feeling her father was up to something behind her back. 

she heard yuta sigh, and her heart slightly dropped. “i wasn’t supposed to tell you, but your father grew impatient and chose someone for you. he had me visit them and everything.”

“...oh.” she pinched her nosebridge and her grip on her phone tightened. “who did he choose?” she asked. as much as she wanted to scream, protest, anything, she knew it’s be useless. her father’s words were final, no one could go against them, and it made her blood boil everytime he played her like a puppet for his own benefits. 

“kim, sunwoo...?” yuta said, hoping it’d ring a bell in her head. “he’s the son of one of our long-time business partners.”

jiyu remembered his file on the list. he was the heir to kim corportations. no doubt her father chose him since combining the shares of both hwang enterprises and kim corporations would indeed boost both companies. it’s a win-win situation. 

“hm, i see.” she also knew her father would call her soon to relay his decisions to her. 

the terrace door slid open and a half-asleep mingi waddled out. he rubbed his eyes with his fists. jiyu’s face immediately melted from a stone-cold expression into a smile. “i’ll call you back, yuta. thanks again for everything.”

“of course, miss,” yuta added before quickly hanging up before jiyu could give him an earful about the title again. 

“this kid...” jiyu mumbled under her breath with a wry smile before putting her phone down. she pat the seat next to her, telling mingi to sit down since he looked like he was about to fall asleep standing up. 

mingi gratefully took her offer and plopped down next to her. his head dropped onto her shoulder and he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. her scent relaxed him—the smell of her peach shampoo and body wash was way better than his previous owners smell of heavy, dizzying perfume. 

“what’s up, buddy? sleepy?” she chuckled as she ran her hand through his fading-red hair, ignoring the ticklish feeling of his bunny ears against her cheek. she noted his thin layer of clothes and frowned. reaching up, she turned on the heat lamp that was next to the couch. “you’re going to get sick, bubs.”

mingi hummed as he curled closer to jiyu. “it’s okay...i’m used to the cold,” he mumbled, his eyes fighting to stay open. 

jiyu’s heart ached when the words left his mouth. i wonder if anyone cared for him if he did get sick...i mean maybe yunho...but what about when yunho wasn’t there? 

before her thoughts could grow any deeper, the door slid open again, only this time, the other three came out carrying a heap of blankets and handwarmers. jiyu cocked her head in confusion. 

“what are you all—”

“blanket pile!” yunho laughed as he threw a blanket onto jiyu and mingi’s lap before sliding in next to mingi. seonghwa and hongjoong sat by jiyu’s side, and soon, the fivewere cuddled together on the couch covered by blankets to keep them warm along with the heating lamp. 

soft snores came from mingi, making them smile as they fondly looked at the bunny hybrid resting on jiyu. the fire and the lights from the inside bathed the terrace in a warm, orange color. jiyu contently sighed; everything was so peaceful and perfect, she hated for it to all change soon. 

seonghwa rested his cheek on top of her head, careful of hongjoong’s body slightly leaning on his. “everything okay?” he quietly asked. he had taken several glances at her when she was calling yuta, and he noted her emotionless, yet angered expressions. 

jiyu nodded. “don’t worry, everything’s okay,” she reassured, although she was trying to convince herself more than she was telling seonghwa and the others. “what movie did you guys watch?” she quietly asked as to not wake up the sleeping giant bunny. 

“yunho wanted to watch avengers so we watched the first one,” hongjoong replied, his tone growing languid and lazy the more he relaxed. “were you calling yuta?”

jiyu smiled before reaching past seonghwa to gently pet hongjoong’s head. “yeah, i never thanked him for helping us with mingi since the recovery center grew pretty busy this week.”

“he’s a black cat hybrid, right?” yunho curiously asked as he gently leaned onto mingi. “i’ve never seen one before, but i heard they were really elegant. and they were right!” he smiled. 

jiyu stifled a chuckle. yuta? elegant? that’s what he may seem like to strangers but he was the same man that trips over his own two feet when they were just walking. “elegant may not be the best word to describe yuta, but it fits during some ocassions,” she joked. “i remember once he bumped into a man carrying a stack of files and he let out the most ungracious yelp and his arms flailed everywhere when he fell.” she chuckled at the memory. 

they all chuckled, surprised of the cat’s clumsiness when he seemed all cool and mysterious to them when he visited to hand over mingi’s papers. “he sounds like mingi,” yunho chuckled. “he gets scared pretty easily and can let out some ungracious yelps, too.”

that i have to agree with. she thought with a smile when she remembered their first meetings.  

“now my only concern,” she suddenly said, catching their attention, “is how we’re going to get mingi inside.”

“can we honestly just sleep out here?” hongjoong asked, too comfy and relaxed to move. “it’s really comfy...”

“we’re all going to catch colds though, even though we’re drowing in blankets and the heat lamp is on,” jiyu reasoned. 

“we’ll keep you warm!” yunho added as he leand more onto mingi, causing him to press closer to jiyu. “sleeping out here won’t be that bad of an idea! it’s pretty warm, too.”

“hm...for once, i’m actually okay with this idea, too,” seonghwa mumbled, his eyes and ears drooping tiredly. “we’re all too comfy and sleepy to move...so sleeping out here doesn’t seem too bad...” he yawned as he nuzzled his face into the other side of her neck. 

"alright...but don’t blame me if you all get colds tomorrow,” she quietly laughed as the four hybrids drifted off to dreamland. she looked at their sleeping faces as if etching the scene into her memory. everything was perfect. 

“but nothing stays perfect for long...” she whispered under her breath. she knew that soon, everything would change once she had to return home. but until then, she swore to all the stars in the sky that she would make their time worth it; she swore that she would give them all the love that they deserve. 

now and forever. 

✧ notes (cont.): our lovely mingi is complete! i miss him so much but i hope he’s okay and doing well 🥺❤️ i’m really glad kq let him rest to take care of his mental health. mental (and physical) health should always be a priority!

next up on the list, yeosang!

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 6

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 7K. (She’s a bit longer.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smuttish content.

Idol Cameos: Ateez Wooyoung.

Warnings: sexy stuff.

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;)

Soobin felt lazier than usual. Being the homebody that he is, he decided against any physical or social activities for the night. Tae, Gyu, and Hueningkai were out and about doing god knows what and Mia went home for the week to spend time with her family.  

He had hoped to spend some time with you but you blew him off earlier today, as did Yeonjun.

Soobin wasn’t quite sure what was going on with Yeonjun but aside from the fact that he was only home to sleep and shower for the past week, it seemed like Yeonjun was genuinely happy.

He was upbeat and smiley whenever he did see him. It’s not like this was unlike Yeonjun’s usual behavior but the level of intensity had increased and Soobin couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Soobin’s tall figure was taking up all of the space on the couch as he watched a movie, cuddled up in blankets and surrounded by pillows while the only source of light came from the TV. The heavy rain from outside was acting as a form of ASMR, making Soobin’s eyelids grow heavier and heavier by the minute.

He was about to doze off before he heard the front door open. Soobin perked his head up, watching a drenched Yeonjun close the door behind him, turning on the lights, not realizing that Soobin was on the couch.

Soobin swore he heard Yeonjun sniff which made him sit up immediately, his face full of worry as Yeonjun passed through the living room to get to his bedroom with a blank expression on his face.  He didn’t even notice Soobin yet, his mind too occupied with thoughts he wished he didn’t have.

“Hyung?” Soobin cooed, his eyes following Yeonjun’s moping state through the living room.

Yeonjun’s head snapped into Soobin's direction in shock and his eyes grow in size a little, feeling like he got caught.

Soobin indifferently bit his lip, getting up from the couch. He couldn’t see the difference between either the raindrops or teardrops on Yeonjun’s cheeks, so he had to get closer to confirm.

“Yeonjun hyung…” Soobin's voice was soft as he carefully approached, realizing that he was indeed crying.

Yeonjun felt like he was glued to the floor, frozen in place and unable to move, but as Soobin got closer to him, he breaks.  

Soobin facial expression shifted from worry to shock in a heartbeat as he wrapped the older one into a tight hug, letting him weep on his shoulder.

The boys have been through a lot together, and this is definitely not the first time Soobin has seen Yeonjun cry, but it was never as heartbreaking and unbearable to watch as this. Yeonjun’s sobs were drenched with pain and sorrow. The noises being muffled as he buried his face on Soobin’s shoulder.

“H-hyung what's going on, you’re making me worried,” Soobin says as he lightly pats Yeonjun’s back in order to calm him down. He had no idea what was going on but knew that whatever it might be, it’s not to be taken lightly.  

Yeonjun let go of Soobin, throwing his head back as he tries to sniff his tears back into his head. Soobin cautiously lingered around him, in case his emotions would erupt again. He rubbed his back in up and down motions. Waiting for Yeonjun to calm down enough so he could start explaining what was going on.  

Yeonjun collects himself quickly, leaning against the kitchen counter as he buries his face in his hands.  

He was frustrated with himself. He was frustrated with his tears and frustrated with the fact that Soobin had to see him this way. Vulnerability isn’t something Yeonjun loves to display. Being the oldest of the group and having to take care of himself from a young age made that difficult for him.

But given the distraught look on Soobin’s face, Yeonjun knew he couldn’t just let this go.

They sat at the dinner table together for hours. Talking about anything and everything that resonated with Yeonjun’s childhood. Yeonjun truly poured his whole heart out, sniffing through the tears that were a result of his bottled-up emotions. Of course, Soobin knew of Yeonjun’s estranged relationship with his parents but Yeonjun never told him or the other boys why that is. Neither did Soobin know It bothered him so much due to the fact that Yeonjun never talks about it, or seems upset.  

Soobin couldn’t help but shed a tear or two himself. Knowing that one of his closest friends was going through something like this all by himself was heartbreaking. Though Soobin couldn’t be happier that Yeonjun opened up to him, he wished he knew about this sooner.

All the times that Soobin couldn’t figure out why Yeonjun acted the way he did in some situations became clear as day to him. Even though it isn’t his fault at all, Soobin couldn’t help but blame himself for not being there for Yeonjun more often.  

“I wished you would have told me sooner…” Soobin dabbed his wet eyes with the long sleeves of his shirt as he looked the older one in his eyes.

Yeonjun just nodded, lost in thought while staring into the distance.  

“It’s not something I want to be reminded of, the reason why I decided to live on campus is to be away from it all. This school, the team; it’s a way to forget.”

“What made you want to talk about it now?” Soobin asks cautiously. He didn’t want to make Yeonjun feel like he was pushing him to speak up more. But curiosity was getting the better of him.  

If Yeonjun didn’t feel the need to open up all this time, what changed?

Yeonjun’s eyes dart to Soobin’s equally dark ones.  

Well shit.  

The most important detail that Yeonjun didn’t talk about was you. His brain was running extra hard to come up with the perfect excuse, but he couldn’t think of one fast enough.

“You know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking so many questions.”

Yeonjun’s shoulders fell in relief. Not wanting to lie to Soobin in a moment like this.  

“It goes without saying that I won’t tell anyone about this.”

“I know you won’t,” Yeonjun cracks a smile. “Not even to Mia.”  

“Not even to Mia,” Soobin nods.

“That’s so fucking sad,” Mia whines.

“I know,” Soobin huffs, adjusting the phone so he could hear his girlfriend better. “I told him I wouldn’t tell anyone though.”

“Well, I’m basically a part of you so he should’ve known better.”

“But baby, I’m serious. You can’t tell y/n because he will never trust me again if this somehow comes back around to him. Promise me you won’t tell her.”

“I promise,” Mia says, her voice laced with sincerity.  

“Besides it’s not like she cares about him anymore. She hasn’t even mentioned his name since the festival two weeks ago.”  

“I’m glad that’s over before it began. Yeonjun needs to learn how to love himself before he can love anyone else. I really don’t want y/n to be collateral damage to Yeonjuns fucked up mental state,” Soobin says getting comfortable on his bed.  

“Wait…was that too harsh of me to say?” Soobin asks biting his fingernail.

Mia chuckled in response. “You just want the best for both of them, It’s understandable.”

“Ugh I wish you were here with me,” he pouts, earning a giggle from Mia.  “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Yeonjun hadn’t texted you the usual I’m home text and it worried you. It was already past 2 AM but you didn’t want to bother him or seem clingy by checking up on him this late.

His Instagram account showed a last seen of 25 minutes ago, meaning he was probably fine, so you decided against contacting him.

You sighed, putting your phone away, ready to close your eyes before you hear your phone buzz on your nightstand. Your eyes shot open wide and you frantically reach for your phone., getting blinded by the brightness of your screen in your dark surroundings.

[Yeonjun, 2:23 AM]: I’m sorry, I forgot to text you. Something came up…

You stare at your screen, unsure of what to write back to him, you thought about what to say for a few minutes, typing and deleting whatever came up in your mind for 4 minutes straight.  You knew it was ridiculous that you were this insecure but you were cautious not to say the wrong thing, given the way he rushed out of your apartment earlier today.

It seemed like Yeonjun had gotten enough of waiting, so he decided to call you instead.

You’re startled at the sound of your ringtone, accepting the call without thinking twice.

“Hi.” His voice was timid and quiet. He sounded sleepy and his voice was a lot cuter than usual.

“Hey…” you greet him with the same tone of voice, a yawn escaping your lips in the process.

The sound made Yeonjun smile to himself, everything you did was adorable to him and he realized that he missed your presence already.

“Is it really stupid and clingy to say that I miss you,” you say shyly, turning yourself on your side so you were more comfortable under your sheets.

Yeonjun smiled at your comment, feeling the exact same way. There was nothing more that he wanted than to hold you close to him right now.

“No, it’s not.” He sighs, stretching his body and putting his arm under his neck for support as he stared at the ceiling.

“If it was up to me, I’d leave and come over again but Soobin basically has me on dog-watch.”  

“Huh, why?”  

“It’s a long story,” Yeonjun says biting his lip, hoping not to throw you off by being mysterious. He just didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“What if I sneak in?” you nervously suggest as you sit up.

“What?”  

“I’ll Uber to you and sneak in… I have Soobin’s spare key in case he lost his own since he always loses his shit. I could literally come in without anyone noticing…”

“I- you’d do that?” Yeonjun says wide-eyed. He was intrigued by your balsiness, and a mischievous grin crept upon his face.

“So that means we’ll be spending the night together?” He bluntly states trying to get you flustered but you huff in response. “You’ll take the floor,” you joke, which earned a sincere laugh from Yeonjun.

“Bet,” he says rolling his eyes.  

His mood shifted to a much brighter one just by talking to you. It was the effect that you had on him. Your funniness and energy worked contagiously, lifting him out of his slump from before. He buried his thoughts about the compatibility of your relationship in the back of his head as he waited for you to respond to him.

The other end of the line stayed silent for a few more seconds and he cocked his eyebrow. “Y/n?”  

“I’m putting on my shoes,” you state as the shuffling noises on your end of the line continue.

Yeonjun couldn’t believe his ears, he thought you were kidding. He should’ve known by now that you’re actually crazy. If the other guys came home at the same time, you’d be busted for sure.  

He swallowed harshly, sitting up in his bed. “Are you sure?”

“I’m on my way.”

You tried to be as silent as humanly possible as you twisted the key in their front door.  

You kept looking over your shoulder, paranoid as fuck that the others could come home at any second. You really didn’t know why you were doing this at the dead of night when you had just seen Yeonjun a few hours ago, but the way he left didn’t sit right with you.  

You wanted to be there for him by being with him, and assure him that when he needed you, that you were there for him. Even if he didn’t ask for it.  

Soobin should be sound asleep since he’s a grandpa, and since it’s past 2 AM, you weren’t too worried, but still. You had to be cautious not to make too much noise which could potentially wake him.

You enter their pitch-black apartment, taking off your shoes at the front door while carrying them with you so the heels of your shoes wouldn’t make any noise on their hard-wooden floor.  

The darkness made it hard to see, but luckily the way to Yeonjun's room was a straight line from the front door.  

You tiptoed your way over, your heart basically pounding in your throat as you slowly twist the door handle to Yeonjun’s bedroom.

Yeonjun was laying on his bed, his arm supporting his head on top of his pillow. He was on his phone but as soon as he heard his door open, and saw you, his eyes widened.

You were dressed in all black, with your hoodie popped looking like you were about to rob him.

When you closed the door behind you and made eye-contact, both of you erupted in silent laughs and giggles.

He got up, wrapping you into his arms as he continued to laugh in your hair quietly.  

“I can’t believe you,” he chuckles as he let go of you, taking a hold of your shoulders to look you in the eyes.  

His eyes were playful and they had a certain amused glisten to them. You melted at the sight of his happy facial expression and sigh.  

“I can’t believe me either,” you giggle.

You take a moment to look around Yeonjun’s room. Their dorm is basically your second home, but you never had a reason to go inside of his room before, until now.

His room was neat, but messy at the same time. Racks filled with clothing and shoes plastered his left wall. The walls were painted in a broken white, while the one where his bed was situated had a dark blue color, making the room look moody yet sophisticated. It wasn’t too big of a space but he made use of it efficiently.  

You situate yourself on his bed, taking a hold of the picture frame on Yeonjun’s nightstand.

You melted at the fact that he had a picture of himself and the boys next to his bed and you couldn’t withhold your adoring noises. “awhhhh, this is so cute of you to do,” you pout up at him teasingly, shaking the frame in front of his face.

He looked at you through hooded eyes, yanking it from your grasp.  

“I’m not cute,” he huffs. “Total manly man.”  

You laugh at his antics as he basically throws himself at you, pinning you down on his bed as he hovers over you, poking your sides in attempt to make you laugh.

You try to be quiet for Soobin’s sake but it was of no use as Yeonjun continued his attack. He muffled your giggles by putting his hand over your mouth as you playfully kicked around and slapped his chest to get him off, he complied when he noticed your lack of being able to breathe, and threw his hands up as a sign of truce.  

He chuckles again as he drops himself down next to you. You sit up, slapping his chest in insincere annoyance as you catch your breath. He whines, rubbing the sore spot with his large hand, acting like he got shot.

“What if someone heard!?” you nag, but Yeonjun just rolls his eyes at you; pulling you down with him so you’re situated on his chest.

He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face in your hair, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist as well. The two of you just lay there, breathing in each other's scents and enveloping yourselves in each other's warmth for a few minutes before you find yourselves lost in conversation.  

The two of you talked about anything and everything. You noticed how he tried to keep the topics light and airy, nothing too serious or deep. So you just went with it, realizing he was probably doing it on purpose because of the conversation back in your apartment.  

After a while you get up from his bed, stretching your limbs, and walking over to his clothing racks to inspect his coats and shirts. Your eye falls on a leopard print fur coat that was neatly hanging between the less flashy items of clothing. You chuckle while cocking your eyebrow, taking it off the hanger and wrapping it around yourself.

“I didn’t know you had a pet.”  

“You don’t like it?” he flashed you a toothy smile and leaned back to see how the coat engulfed you in its largeness.  

“It’s probably something only you can pull off,” you say in pout as you twirl around in the coat, checking yourself out in the mirror. It was way too large and you knew you looked ridiculous, but you didn’t care. Way too amused with the way it looked on you.

You hear the most dramatic sigh behind you which made you frown and turn around to see Yeonjun looking at you with adoring eyes.

“Why are you literally the most adorable thing,” he says pulling you towards him roughly by the hem of the fur coat.  

You gulp at his sudden dominance and look at him sheepishly.  

“It’s 3.30 AM,” he states out of the blue as he looks at you mischievously.

You give him a questioning look and lean into him. “So?”  

“So…you’re not leaving, are you?”  

“No.”

“So, you’re sleeping with me.”

“….I..well yeah if you don’t mind,” you say tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

He scoffed. “If I don’t mind?” he repeats, but then his eyes grow big in realisation, and he starts rambling.

“Wait. You staying over doesn’t mean you need to have sex with me, you know that right. Because I would never push you into anything, you’re not ready for. And I don’t even know how experienced you are, and I’m not saying that you have to be, I’m just-”

“Yeonjun,” you interrupt, shushing him by putting your index finger to his lips.

He looks at you wide-eyed and you chuckle in response. “Shut up.”  

“I mean it y/n. Let’s take something serious for once,' he whines tightening the hold he had on your waist.

“No, let’s not,” you tease him as you straddle him, seductively staring at his lips before you inch closer to his face, softly placing your lips onto his plump ones.  

It was cute to you how worried he was, but the fact of the matter is that you’re not that innocent yourself. You want him, and you don’t really care about the status of your relationship to take this step.  

You’ve been lusting over him since the start of college and now that you have him in the palm of your hands you weren’t just going to waste the perfect opportunity to act on your desires.

You kiss him softly, but the softness disappeared as he melted into the kiss, taking the lead as his hands traveled down to your ass, using it as leverage.  

Something in him wanted to take things slow with you, he wanted to take the brand-newness of your relationship as serious as possible, but he also couldn’t deny that he had been storing away his horniness when around you. Also, the friction of having you straddling him like this didn’t support his philosophy of taking things slowly at all.  

You moan into his mouth and the sound has his mind running wild.

He let himself fall flat to the bed, pulling you with him as you straddled him in a different position.

He tugged at your chin, pulling you in closer while claiming your mouth again, hungrily making his way down your neck with wet open-mouthed kisses as he tugged at your hair in order to give himself full access to the exposed skin of your neck.  

You let out a breathy moan as he finds your sweet spot, making him grin smugly against your skin.

“Enjoying yourself darling?” He teases, which you just nod to in response. Too dazed to give him the real assurance he was looking for.

You were lost for words at how good he was, and how quickly his flustered demeanor shifted to a lust-filled one.  

Your whole body tingled in ecstasy as he wrapped his free hand around your neck while his lips found their way back to yours. His other hand now back on your waist, riding up the hem of your hoodie to dig his nails into your skin.

You moan into his mouth once again, and that just about drives Yeonjun over the edge.  

He basically rips the fur coat off of your frame and swiftly turns you around so your back is now to the bed with him hovering over you.

He pulls up your hoodie, exposing your bra and he buries his face in between your breasts, kissing his way up to your lips again.

"So god damn beautiful," he compliments in between wet kisses, making you moan in response.

He quickly resumes his assault to your mouth and neck, and unknowingly you tug at the waistband of his joggers out of instinct.

He looks down at your hand basically hovering over his crotch and gives you a look of pure mischief. “Someone's needy,” he breathes, giving you a coy smile.

At that, you both hear the front door to their apartment open and he pushes himself off of you immediately, leaving you dazed and entirely too horny to not be annoyed at the interruption.  

“Shit.” Yeonjun huffs as he runs his hand through his hair. “You need to hide.”  

“What? Why?” you say pulling down your hoodie again as you look at him with big eyes.

“My light is on, meaning I’m awake, meaning that Hyuka will probably come into my room to hug me goodnight. It’s a thing he does.” Yeonjun explains as quickly as possible.

Your face contorts from confusion to pure uwu but before you could say anything you already hear a knock on Yeonjun’s door.

“Yeonjun hyung, are you sleeping?” Hueningkai’s voice was clear as day and you look at Yeonjun with wide eyes. Not sure where you should be hiding.

He points at his bed and realise you could easily fit under it. You disappear under his bed at the speed of light and Yeonjun makes his way to his door, nervously looking back to see if you were visible before he opened it with a dramatic swing.

“Hyung, it’s late why aren’t you sleeping” Hyuka says walking into his room, making himself fall onto Yeonjun’s bed with full force.  

You covered your mouth to suppress a yelp as the bed dipped almost to the point where it hit you.

Yeonjun’s eyes grow in size and he pulls Hueningkai off the mattress as fast as he could.

“There was a spider, don’t go on there,” he blurts out, not being able to come up with a better lie.

“Oh, should I grab it for you? Did it go under your bed?” Hyuka almost dropped to his knees to look under the bed before Yeonjun grabbed him, stopping him from moving any further.

“No, it’s okay, hyung will take care of it, go sleep. I’m teaching you how to drive tomorrow remember?”

“Oh right, I almost forgot,” Hyuka says scratching the back of his head while laughing nervously.

“Why am I kind of scared.”  

“Don’t be, if you wreck my car you will have nothing to be scared of, ever again. In your life. Cause it will be over.” Yeonjun jokes, and you put your hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles.

Their relationship was so cute.

Hueningkai laughed a softer version of his obnoxious but adorable laugh and flew into Yeonjun's arms while rubbing his belly. “Okayyyy, got it. Goodnight and good luck with your spider problem.”

Yeonjun smiled, leading the younger one out of his room. “Goodnight honeybee.”  

He closed the door behind him and locked it this time. He walked over to the bed and dropped to the floor, bending his neck to look at you.

“You could just sleep there if you want,” he jokes, flashing his pearly whites at you.

You glare at him. “I can’t believe I had to hide under your bed.”  

He let out a small chuckle and reached out his hand for you to help you get out from under the bed.

You’re surprised by his strength as he was able to pull you out entirely with just one arm. You drop yourself on to his bed, this time exhausted from the subsiding rush of adrenaline.

You yawn covering your face, and Yeonjun notices.

"Are you tired?" he asks patting your head. You slowly nod in response, blinking a couple of times to re-adjust your blurry vision.

Yeonjun smiled at you fondly. "Let's continue what we were doing some other time." he winks and you just grimace at his words, nodding in agreement.

He pulls to covers from underneath you and turns off the light on his nightstand.  

“Move,” he whispers and you comply with a giddy smile, making space for him on the bed.  

He pulled to covers over both of you, spooning you as he holds your hand tightly, resting your intertwined hands to your chest.  The butterflies in your stomach ran wild, this moment is something you fantasized about multiple times, but now that it was happening you weren't sure how to get yourself to calm down.

As if he sensed your rising heartbeat, he kissed your temple. Snuggling his face in your neck while giving you another kiss on your jaw.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his breath tickling your neck as he speaks.

“Goodnight,” you reply timidly, already dozing off in his hold.

You felt safe, sound, warm, and you hoped he felt the same. You hoped you could give him what he longed for all this time because there was nothing more you want than for him to feel like he could be himself around you.

You wanted to say so much, do so much, but tiredness got the better of you as your eyelids grow heavy, drifting off into nothingness as his hold lulled you to sleep.

Yeonjun had been staring at your sleeping form for the past 10 minutes. He stared at your features. Studying your face. You moved a little making a piece of your hair drape in front of your eyes, which made your nose scrunch up in response.  

Yeonjun suppressed a chuckle and moved the piece of hair out of your face so he could adore you some more.

It was 11 AM and he already heard Soobin and Taehyun's voices from the living room.  

He had no idea how to get you out without them noticing and he also didn’t have the heart to wake you up.

After a few seconds, the comfortable silence was interrupted by loud knocks on Yeonjun’s bedroom door.

“HYUNG, BREAKFAST IS READY.” Taehyun yelled at the top of his lungs, startling Yeonjun and waking you up in a panic at the loud noises.  

Your eyes shoot open in shock, but Yeonjun held on to your waist firmly to keep you from jolting upwards, reminding you of his presence.

“It’s ok” he whispered patting your head, and you relax in an instance.

“NOT HUNGRY,” he yelled back; making you cringe at the loud noise.

You’re not a morning person, which Yeonjun figured as you turned back around to close your eyes.

He let out a sigh shaking your shoulder. “Five more minutes,” you huff, pulling his arm from your shoulder and back around your waist to signal to him that you wanted him to hold you.

Yeonjun however, wasn’t having it.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for half an hour,” he says unamused, untangling himself from you and ripping the sheets off of you.

You shot him an angry look, burying your face in his pillow and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute and moody you were in the morning.  

“We need to figure out how to get you out of the apartment unnoticed.”  he says with his arms crossed, looking at you expectantly.

And suddenly, you’re wide awake. Well shit, you didn’t think that far ahead yet.  

You sit up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“I could jump out the window”  

“This is the 9th floor, you’d die.”

“Problem solved,” you joke.

Yeonjun rolls his eyes at you as he sits back down on his bed.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks caressing your cheek.

You nod sheepishly as you lean into his touch, resting your cheek in his hand. “You?”

“The best sleep I’ve had in a while.” He admits, making you melt.

Yeonjun’s phone buzzed and he looked over, taking it off the charger as he read the message.

“Soobin and Tae are heading out,” he says in surprise. “They’re getting coffee and asked me if I wanted one.”

He shows you the messages. You found your luck hard to believe and squint your eyes reading over the messages a second time.

“If Gyu and Hyuka are still asleep then that’s my chance to escape,” you say excitedly clapping your hands together as realization hits.

You didn’t know why but this whole keeping your relationship a secret thing was kind of fun. It was thrilling that you could get caught at any moment and that the rest of your friends were so oblivious, but you really wanted to know when your luck was going to run out because that's one confrontation that you weren't ready for.

After waiting in Yeonjun's room for a few minutes after Soobin and Tae had left, you finally open the door to Yeonjun’s bedroom.

Both of you silently run to the front door, he turns you around and kisses your lips once more before he opens the front door and shoos you away playfully.

“See you tonight.” He says as he waves at you.

Right, game night. You almost forgot.

You were pretty nervous about it given the fact that this is the first time you’d hang out with all 5 of the boys and Mia since the whole ordeal at the festival. Your stomach turned at the thought of having to act nonchalantly around Yeonjun throughout the night. Not knowing how well you’d be able to do that.

Before you walk off. you pull Yeonjun in for another quick kiss and he smiles into it. “Quick, quick, quick,” he says pushing you off of him, and you both laugh as you start running off.  

Hyuka had his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

Yeonjun was situated in the passengers’ seat as Beomgyu was seated behind them in the middle backseat, leaning over to see what Hyuka was doing.

“Ok so, what happens if I press the brake and gas at the same time?” Hyuka says mischievously staring at Yeonjun to tease him.

“The car takes a screenshot,” Beomgyu comments

“FOR REAL!?”  

“Get the fuck out of my car, both of you” Yeonjun sighs rubbing his forehead.  

“Ahh, ok, ok, ok. We’ll behave. Sorry” Hueningkai laughs and carefully backs out of the parking spot.

Yeonjun's phone started to buzz and he checked his messages while Hyuka was driving carefully. His eyes lit up seeing your name on his phone, smiling giddily at your message.

[Y/N: 3:23 PM]: Can't wait to ignore your whole existence tonight, make sure to get my Oscar ready, I will put these actresses out of a job...

He was about to reply to you but Beomgyu interrupted. "Hyung could you please pay attention to what Hyuka is doing because I feel uneasy."

Hueningkai scoffed at Beomgyu's lack of confidence in him and Yeonjun snapped out of it, correcting Hyuka's driving by tugging at the steering wheel lightly.

"Right, sorry."

"Hyung, by the way. you and y/n are good right?" Beomgyu asked with big eyes.

The sudden mention of your name startled Yeonjun, but he cleared his throat, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"Yeah, we are. Why do you ask?"

"Well, cause she's coming over tonight too and it'd be awkward if you two were still awkward around each other."

Yeonjun's shoulders fell as he relaxed. Sighing as he looked back at Beomgyu and Hyuka's expecting eyes. "We're totally fine." Yeonjun assures, giving them a sincere smile.

Beomgyu nodded in response and so did Hueningkai.

"I'm glad." he adds.

Yeonjun was surprised, Hueningkai did better than expected so they decided to leave the parking grounds for a short while to practice roundabouts and parallel parking.

It didn’t take long before they all had enough of risking their lives, so Yeonjun decided to drive back to their dorm and prepare for game night. They had a few more guests coming than usual, but Yeonjun had no idea since he spent all his time with you and didn’t plan the whole thing with the other guys.  

“You did well,” he says patting Hyuka on his back as they walk into their building, his compliment earned a heartfelt smile from Hueningkai. “Watch out hyung, once I get my license you won’t know what’s coming for you,” he boasts.  

“Don’t get cocky already, there’s a written exam that you need to pass first,” Beomgyu says rolling his eyes as they step out of the elevator, on their way to their front door.

“Oh…right.” Hyuka says sulking.

Yeonjun laughs at the banter of his little brothers, opening the front door to see the place fully decorated.  

“Eh…Tae? What’s going on.” Yeonjun asks as they make eye contact while Taehyun was using all the force in his lungs to blow up some balloons.

Beomgyu and Hyuka brushed past Yeonjun, on their way to their shared room in an attempt to avoid helping out with decorations.

“So….game night turned into a bit of a bigger get together,” he explains apologetically.

Yeonjun chuckles, grabbing a few balloons to help out. “I’m not surprised.”

“You’re not mad right? I mean you’re barely home so we didn’t even know if you’d be here tonight. By the way, where have you been all week?”

“Uh, with Wooyoung.” Yeonjun lies latching his mouth onto the balloon, blowing it up to avoid more conversation.

“MIA!” you run into her arms. Not seeing her for a whole week was the longest you’d gone without seeing her since you met her, so it felt like a whole year. She left for home to spend time with her family and well, you were too occupied with Yeonjun to really talk to her.

Mia giggles in your embrace. Both of you decided to meet at the boys’ dorm to enter together like you always do.  

“I missed you,” she says wrapping her arm around your waist as you both walk towards the elevator.

As you press the button, you spot the same guy with long black hair who you were introduced to by Yeonjun at Johnny’s party, walking towards you.

“Hey,” you greet him with a smile, and he shifts his focus from his phone to you at the sound of your voice.

“Hey.” He gave you a warm smile back while going in for a hug.

You were surprised since you’ve only spoken to each other for half a minute but you figured he was just a hugger.

“Wooyoung? Right?”  

He nods excitedly. “Yes.”

Mia smiled at him too and introduced herself. “Do you live here?” she asks genuinely interested.

“No, I’m going to Yeonjun’s”

“Oh…huh, so are we,” you say shooting Mia a confused look, which she shrugged at.  

“Oooo nice!” he exclaims making both you and Mia laughs in response to his enthusiasm.  

The three of you make small talk about your only connection, school. The more you spoke to him, the more you got the friendship between him and Yeonjun. Wooyoung seemed super loud and outgoing, matching Yeonjun's personality effortlessly.  

You finally reach the front door and knock a few times.

Soobin opened the door for you guys but you were completely disregarded by him as he attacked Mia with hugs and kisses. You hear a few I love you’s and I missed you’s and you can’t help but beam at them.

You were feeling less salty about their PDA because of the fact that you have Yeonjun now, but you know…they don’t know that.

Yeonjun was seated at the large kitchen table behind Taehyun, who was playing that odd biting dog game that they play with Beomgyu and Hyuka. Yeonjun’s eyes meet yours and he gives you a small smile before he saw you standing in the doorway with Wooyoung.  

It looked like the two of you came here together and he didn’t like how that looked to the rest of the people here.  

You saw how his face fell and your eyes travel to Wooyoung who was still standing next to you with his hand on your waist. You didn’t think much of it given his touchy nature but you couldn’t really go up to Yeonjun either to ease his mind, because everyone would question why.

You sigh, nonchalantly untangling yourself from his hold to make your way to Mia who was standing on the balcony with Soobin.

Wooyoung made his way to Yeonjun and they hugged, Yeonjun’s eyes following your figure like a hawk before he shifted his attention back to his friend.

You breathe in the cool air on the balcony and lean on the railing, standing next to Mia and Soobin who were lost in a conversation about her family visit.

You honestly wanted to be alone with Yeonjun if you could. Not feeling the need to be sociable with all of the people here, especially if you had to act distant towards Yeonjun in the meantime.

You didn’t know how many glances you could steal from him before someone noticed, and it upset you a little, but you also know that YOU are the reason you’re in this situation in the first place.

When your thoughts start running wild, muting out your surroundings, your phone starts to vibrate in your pocket, snapping you back to reality. You retrieve it and look at your messages.

[Yeonjun 8.32 PM]: I hate this :( 

You chuckle, glancing over to him. He looked at his phone with a pout and you melted at the sight, but you quickly averted your attention back to your phone before anyone noticed that you were starting at him.

[Y/N 8.32 PM]: Me too. Also, I ran into Wooyoung downstairs, it’s just a coincidence.  

[Yeonjun 8.32 PM]: Hah, did I say anything?

[Y/N 8.32 PM]: No, but your face did.

You peak over your shoulder to look at Yeonjun whose eyes had now found yours. He gave you a kittenish angry look and you couldn’t help but giggle, which caught Soobin and Mia’s attention.

“What’s so funny?” Soobin says nudging you.

“Oh, the game…the game is funny,” you say absentmindedly.

Soobin looked over his shoulder and saw the boys basically screaming at each other out of competitiveness and he giggled too. “Yeah, they’re crazy.”

Mia’s eyes travel to the front door as she sees new people entering.

“Baby, who are they?” she asks with a smile, leaning her head on his upper arm.  

“Oh, they’re Yeonjun’s friends. I invited them to cheer him up a little.”

Your eyes dart to Soobin. “Cheer him up for what?” you ask genuinely confused.

“Ahh….i-it’s nothing.” Soobin stuttered. “He’s just been dealing with some stuff lately so I thought I’d invite some more people over.”

You squint his eyes at Soobin. What did Yeonjun not tell you?

Your eyes scan the group of 4 who had joined the get-together, you see two guys and two girls, one of them clinging on to Yeonjun’s arm the minute she saw him.

You cock your eyebrow at the sight, trying not to stare too long.

The three of you make your way back in to the apartment and decide to join the rest of the group at the dinner table. They were now playing charades and you couldn’t help but laugh at Wooyoung’s ridiculous competitive nature, which was only fueled by Yeonjun’s desire to win against Taehyun, Hueningkai, and Beomgyu.

Your eyes darted to the mystery girl who was basically drooling over Yeonjun. You noticed her giggling with her friend every time he did something remotely funny or adorable and you can’t help but roll your eyes when she keeps playfully nudging him or smacking his arm as she laughed.

“I wanna be on Junnie’s team!” she screeched as she sat down on his lap.

The action made your eyes widen, and you can tell Yeonjun’s whole body stiffened, his eyes darting to yours in apology.

Neither of you could control this situation, but that didn’t mean he had to keep her on his lap.

“Let’s do truth or dare instead,” Wooyoung suggests wiggling his eyebrows, earning a bunch of either excited hums or disagreeing groans from everyone.  

"What are we, 12 years old?" you sigh, scooting your seat closer to the table.

"Why, you got something to hide?" Wooyoung challenges you as he gives you a mischievous smile, raising his eyebrow at you in amusement.

You huff in response, stealing a quick glance from Yeonjun's stoic expression.

"No."

Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Ok, Ok. Me first then,” he says shifting his attention to you.

“Y/n, truth, or dare?’ He asks grinning at you from ear to ear.

You stiffen. “Ehm, truth,” you blurt out, earning groans from Beomgyu and Soobin.

“You’re so tame.” Beomgyu states and you shot him a venomous look in return, which he brushed off by laughing at you.

“Okay, truth…hmm. Do you like anyone in this room?” He asks folding his arms over his chest, leaning back into his chair.  

“Yes,” you say out loud without thinking. If you could kick yourself you would have. What the fuck were you thinking?

Your statement earned surprised looks from everyone, including Mia and Soobin, who were now looking at each other with question marks in their eyes.

Yeonjun uncomfortably shifted in his seat, with the screechy blonde girl still situated on his lap.

“Who?” Mia asked raising her brows at you.

“I already answered my question.” You shrug, but you knew you’d be a target from now on.

Mia was determined to find out who it was and as her turn came around, she had an idea and decided to act on it. Thinking of the situation as innocent and funny.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” She asks giving him a knowing smirk.

“Truth.” you exhale loudly, already done with playing the stupid game.

“Who is it?” she asks leaning in a little closer.

Fuck.

Your eyes dart to Yeonjun who subtly tried to shake his head for you to notice, and you did.

“Ehm, I-it’s Wooyoung,” you say pointing at him before your brain could even compute the damage that you had just done.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows raise in surprise, just like Yeonjun’s and the rest of the people there.

"Since WHEN!?" Soobin exclaims in disbelief. Which earned a slap from Mia to his upper arm. "Shut up." she huffs noticing how uncomfortable you were.

Suddenly she felt bad for pushing you so far, she thought you were just kidding, but given the distress in your eyes she knew something else was up.

Hueningkai started laughing hysterically as his turn rolled around. “Wooyoung hyung, truth, or dare.”

“Dare.” he practically yells, giving Hyuka an amused smile.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes at the juvenile attempt of your friends to embarrass you, but he couldn’t deny that you were hot, and well. You literally just confessed that you had an eye for him too. Everyone started "ooh-ing" and "aah-ing" at the situation but you couldn't move or respond quick enough to what followed.

Your eyes grow big and you see Yeonjun clench his fists as Wooyoung pulled you towards him, lacing his fingers through your hair as his lips made contact with yours.

Chapter 7.

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part I (x OC)

Summary: Our favorite couple has some catching up to do. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (or xOC)

Category: hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: descriptions of Mexico and prison; they have a sleepover, but it’s just talking and sleeping 🥰

Word count: 3.5k

a/n: Here we go!!!!! We’re picking up from right where we left off in tmsidk part X. 

Song Rec: The Luckiest by Ben Folds

Series Masterlist

———

“Do you— would you want to— come upstairs?” he asked. 

Spencer stood in front of her, unsure of what to do with his hands. Maggie was absolutely radiant— bathed in the very last of the golden daylight and more beautiful than he even remembered. All he wanted to do was hug her again and never let go.

She shook her head, and he tried not to instantly deflate. “I have to feed Roald.” She smiled a little at him and restarted his heart. “But would you want to come over? We could order somethi—”

“Yes— yes.” She let out a quiet laugh at his eagerness, and he wanted to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. “Can I— I just want to drop this stuff off and change, and then I’ll, um.” He gestured vaguely to her. “Should I drive you or do you want to walk or I can just— meet you? Whatever— whatever you want.”

“I’m gonna head back now and take care of Roald. Take your time, and just— well, here.” She held out her hand. “I’ll put my number in your phone, and you can just text me when you’re on your way.”

He fumbled the phone out of his pocket, placed it into her outstretched hand, and nearly vibrated with the way her fingers brushed over his. She stared at the unsophisticated phone in her hand. “You weren’t kidding about the technology thing, huh?”

He ran a hand down the back of his neck and shrugged. “I prefer to keep things simple.”

“I haven’t seen a T9 keyboard since I was in high school. This is a relic,” she laughed and then gave him a soft smile. “And… very you.”

He watched her fingers as she pressed along the tiny keys, still sort of in shock that she was here, that he was getting a second chance, that she wanted to do this with him. She handed the phone back to him and then stuffed her hands in her pockets. “So, I’ll see you in a little bit?”

He nodded and gave her his best smile. She stepped forward into his space, and his eyes went a little wide as she leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. She stepped back with a smile, then waved and turned on her heel headed to her car. 

He stood rooted to the spot until she had disappeared from view, then let out a long breath and looked down at the small screen of his phone at her contact information. His lips twitched at the name she’d given herself. 

Miss Honey <3

…

Forty five minutes later, Spencer smoothed down the front of his cardigan and blew out a sigh. He’d spent five of those minutes reveling in the magic that was Maggie, and the other forty convincing himself that she’d already changed her mind. But he was a man in love, and so he was standing in front of her building, willing himself to press her buzzer. 

He was jolted out of his stupor by the buzzing of his phone. He pulled the device from his pocket and saw her name on the tiny screen, hesitating only a moment before pressing the button to answer. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He could hear her smile through the tinny speaker, and it immediately set him at ease. “I was just checking to make sure you remembered where you were going.”

“Yeah, I— I’m outside now, actually,” he confirmed. 

“Oh, great! I’ll buzz you up.” 

The door buzzed open, and Spencer pocketed his phone, stepping into the small foyer. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants as he made his way to the staircase. He had barely taken the first step when she called, “It’s the third floor!”

He barely resisted the urge to take the stairs two at a time. When he reached the landing of the third floor, she was standing in the doorway in a purple sweatshirt, sweatpants, and fuzzy socks with dragons on them. He couldn’t help but grin.

“Hey.” She returned his smile. “Come on in.” She moved aside and waved him into her apartment. 

He stepped over the threshold, and she closed the door behind him. “I can take your coat. Feel free to leave your shoes there. Roald will be in hiding for the next half hour or so,” she informed him. 

He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her, looking briefly around the tidy space. The walls of her living room were a calming mint green, adorned with plenty of art and photographs. Her couch was a blush pink velvet, exactly as soft as she was. 

“Okay, I’m starving,” she admitted, turning to hang his coat in the coat closet. “We can order pizza, Indian, Thai— any preference?”

He shook his head. “No, whatever you want.”

She closed the closet door and cocked an eyebrow. “So if I wanted to order a huge pizza with extra cheese, you’d be cool with that?”

“Sure, absolutely,” he nodded. 

She tilted her head. “Even with your dairy thing?”

He was surprised that she even remembered such a tiny detail from all those months ago, and his heart would have fluttered if he wasn’t so focused on making as few waves as possible. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a mistake letting him back in, and he didn’t want to do anything that would cause her to rethink her decision. “Well, it’s— it’s just a sensitivity, not a true allergy. Although it’s gotten a bit worse in recent years. But really, whatever you want to do is fine.”

He suddenly struggled to make eye contact, feeling overwhelmingly awkward and out of place. Now that he was here in her apartment, it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. He cracked the knuckles on each finger as he waited for it. She let out a small sigh, and he braced himself for impact. 

“Why don’t you come sit?”

Her voice was quiet, and then her hand on his arm was soft, and she was leading him to the couch and sitting down next to him. She kept some distance between them, placed her hands in her lap, and then she was still for a long moment. He could feel her eyes on him, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know if she wanted him to say anything at all.

“You know I forgive you, right?” The question was tentative. He met her eyes, and he didn’t see the regret or pity that he expected. There was something else there; something he couldn’t quite decipher. “Because I do. Forgive you. You apologized, and you meant it, and you allowed me space and time to process. And that’s— that’s all I could have asked for.”

As seemed to always be the case, the task of articulating what he was feeling began to crush him under its weight. The words were there, but he couldn’t get the order right. If it were anyone else, he would have just evaded the conversation entirely. But he’d promised her that he would try. After everything he’d put her through, Maggie deserved that much. 

He breathed in through his nose, expelling it in a sigh. “I’ve just— I’ve spent the last month thinking about this— about you— pretty much exclusively,” he admitted, staring at his hands. “And I’m just realizing that I never really… allowed myself to think about what would happen next, because I wasn’t sure that this would happen at all.” He gestured between them and then looked at her. “And now I’m here— with you, and I just— it’s…” He let out a sigh. 

“Doesn’t live up to expectations?” she prompted. 

His eyes went wide, and he moved closer to her on the couch. “No— god, no.” He instinctively reached for her hand, felt that electricity again when she allowed him to lace their fingers together. He was already making a mess of things. “You always exceed expectations.” He shook his head, and she squeezed his hand. “I just— I don’t… I don’t wanna mess this up.”

She covered their intertwined fingers with her other hand, rubbed her thumb along his. “I don’t think you will. Something tells me you don’t typically make the same mistake twice,” she inferred.

He laughed a little at that, and she gave him a sweet smile, and then she said, “So, no pizza. How about Indian?”

…

They were just cleaning up the last of the take out containers when Roald made his way out of Maggie’s bedroom. 

“There he is! Hey, buddy,” Maggie cooed, leaning down to give Roald a quick pet. She gave Spencer a sheepish smile. “He takes a while to warm up to new faces, so don’t be offended if he’s not—”

She was stopped mid-sentence by Roald’s decision to make a beeline for him. The cat stopped to give a cursory sniff before weaving between Spencer’s legs, purring loud enough that they could both hear it. Maggie’s mouth dropped open a bit as he leaned down to scratch between Roald’s ears. 

“He— he is never that friendly,” she said incredulously. “There really is something about you, Dr. Reid.”

He looked up at her with a smile. “I’m just glad he approves. Would have been kind of awkward otherwise.” 

“He’s a very good judge of character, so that bodes well for you,” she confirmed.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer scratched underneath Roald’s chin, grinning at the contented cat. He brought his gaze back to her, standing back to his full height when he realized she’d moved… a lot closer. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he watched her eyes track the motion. 

“Yeah.”

He thought back to that night nearly two months ago, the way his mouth had verged on violent when she’d kissed him. He hated that their first kiss was tainted with his foolishness, that he’d marred that memory for them both. He couldn’t take it back, and he wasn’t certain that she wanted to kiss him now, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” she breathed.

He brought his hands to her face and used a gentle grip to pull her in. She rested her warm palms against his waist and let her fingers dig in, holding herself steady as his lips met hers. 

He kept the kiss as soft as she deserved, opening his mouth to let her in but letting her lead and take him wherever she wanted to go. Her hands slid around to his back, and she tugged him in closer. He left one hand cradling her face but moved the other to the small of her back and pulled her flush against him. 

She huffed out a tiny breath against his mouth, her lips turning up in a smile that he could feel in his toes. She brought one hand up to his jaw, rubbed her thumb across his cheek and then wound her fingers into his hair. She tangled them in his curls and tugged just enough to break the kiss, pressing their foreheads together with a sigh. 

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’m just gonna wipe our first kiss from my memory and replace it with that one,” she murmured. 

“I’m very much on board with this rewrite,” he agreed. 

“Excellent.” She used the hand in his hair to pull him forward into another quick kiss. Roald made his presence known at their feet with a loud meow, pulling a laugh from both of them. 

They de-tangled themselves from each other, and Maggie ran a hand through her hair. “It’s getting late.” He nodded in agreement, although he never wanted this night to end. And then she continued, “Do you wanna, um— do you wanna stay the night? I’m sure I can find some comfy clothes that’ll fit you.”

He’d been a ship on a turbulent sea for the past two months, just barely staying afloat at times. It had been heart wrenching and nerve wracking and terrifying— and all of his own doing. And in one night, she’d anchored his vessel amongst the crashing waves. A solution kit, a hug, forgiveness, a kiss, and now this. 

His racing mind came to a standstill. The near constant noise was quieted. The turbulent sea became calm, still waters. 

“I’d really, really like that.”

…

Spencer ended up in an XXL t-shirt from a school fundraiser and a pair of stretchy bike shorts. Maggie had managed to scrounge up a new toothbrush from the back of the cabinet, and they brushed their teeth together with foamy smiles in the bathroom mirror. 

It had taken very little convincing for Spencer to agree to share the bed. Maggie climbed in under the covers, settling back against the pillows and turning down the duvet for him to join her. He held up one finger and disappeared out into the living room, returning a minute later with the solution kit in hand. He moved to the bed, sliding in between the soft sheets and pulling up the duvet. 

He leaned back against the pillows and turned toward her, opening the box. “This is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me,” he admitted. “Can you, um— explain them to me? Some of them I figured out, but others— well, I just want to hear you, really.”

She scooted closer to him and leaned over to look in the box. “The first few are pretty self-explanatory. This one,” she said, pulling out a picture of her with her hands over her heart and belly, “is taking deep breaths until you’re calm and ready to try again. This one is reading a favorite book— which I know will take you about five minutes,” she joked. 

She retrieved the card with the clip art book, and then the one behind it with a pencil and paper. “You can try to write down the difficult thoughts and feelings to get them out of your headspace.” The next card had a picture of an old rotary phone. “Hmmm, almost a match to the dinosaur phone you actually have,” she teased. “But it’s an option to call someone. Could be your mom, or a friend, or—”

“Or you? Could I call you?”

She looked up to find his eyes on her and smiled. “Yeah. You can call me, too.” She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, and— not for the first time that night— he could not believe how lucky he was. 

She drew back to pull out the next card: a clip art rendering of a desktop computer. “Oh! This one is for researching something. I know you’ve got a seemingly endless encyclopedia of knowledge up there,” she tapped on his temple, “but there’s always something new to learn. And teaching yourself something can help you feel capable in moments where you’re feeling— a little helpless.” 

There was also a small wooden puzzle cube in the box. She took it from the box and held it up in front of them. “I know your IQ will probably solve this thing in fifteen seconds, but at least it’ll be a nice fidget toy,” she laughed.

The last card in the box was a picture of a timer. “This one might seem kind of dumb, but sometimes it helps me to set a timer to remind myself that feeling shitty is a temporary state of being.” She held the card between her fingers and shrugged. “Even if I’m still feeling less than great after the timer goes off, it usually gives me the boost I need to move forward.” 

She gathered all the cards in her hands, shuffling them and then placing them back in the box. “You can add your own options as you think of them. This was just a starter set.” 

He closed the lid of the box and set it on the bed between them. He reached for her hand, and she immediately threaded their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb along her impossibly soft skin and took a deep breath. 

“The timer isn’t dumb. I, um— I did something similar in prison.” She squeezed his hand. “I kept track of the— the days on this little spot on the wall. Every time it felt like I couldn’t take another day, I’d count the marks and remind myself that I— that I’d survived that long. That I could make it another day.”

He went quiet, and Maggie sat up a little in bed, brushed her free hand over his hair. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” It wasn’t a lie. He wanted to talk to her about it. He wanted to talk to her about everything. He wanted to let her into the shadowy corners of his mind that he kept from everyone else.

“If you’re sure, then I’m right here.” She pulled their intertwined fingers into her lap and leaned over to press a kiss to his shoulder. 

When she pulled back, he let out a long breath. He watched her thumb as it traced an unwavering line across the back of his hand. “I was, um— I was in Mexico getting an experimental Alzheimer’s drug for my mom. I’d been going down there for a few months, and it wasn’t ideal, but the medication really seemed to be helping her. And I was just— I was desperate. Desperate for anything that would give me more time with her. More lucid, meaningful time, you know?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“It wasn’t the, uh— drug that got me arrested,” he admitted. “There was an unsub— one of the serial killers that we put away a few years ago— a psychopathic, narcissistic hitwoman who had this— I don’t know, vendetta against me, I guess. She, um— she manipulated another woman into drugging me and framing me for the murder of the doctor I was getting the medication from.” 

He could feel her eyes on him, and he drew his brows together. “I know the— the whole thing sounds completely absurd— fictional even,” he admitted. “She used a mix of drugs called sevoflurane and scopolamine to trigger dissociation and hallucination, which made it really— um... For a long time, I couldn’t tell which of my memories were real and which were drug-induced delusions.”

He focused on the motion of her thumb against his skin. “The team got me out of the prison in Mexico, but because I went against FBI protocol when I crossed the border, the Bureau wouldn’t fund my legal representation here. Emily hired a great lawyer, but the judge was less than sympathetic. And it really, um— snowballed from there.”

He took a deep breath. “I was sent to Millburn, which is a maximum security prison, and then I didn’t get the protective custody detail, so I was in general population, but I didn’t want to hurt people or move drugs, so I got the shit kicked out of me for a while, and then my friend Luis was killed in front of me, and I—”

Spencer didn’t realize he was crying until Maggie’s hands were on his face, wiping the tears before pulling him into her arms. “A-and then I poisoned the drugs, which just ended up hurting a bunch of people who didn’t deserve to get hurt. And then I got outed as an agent, and my mom got abducted, and I stabbed myself to get put in solitary, but I wasn’t safe there either, and I really thought... I was sure I was going to die there.”

He wrapped his arms around her middle and tucked his face into her shoulder as the hurricane of his agony swirled and raged and then swept out as quickly as it rolled in. She soothed his cries and held him against her, never rushing or shushing him. Eventually, his weeping dwindled to quiet sniffles, his heaving breaths faded to drawn sighs. She kept him anchored through all of it, rocking him gently from side to side and calming his shattered frame.

When he finally quieted, she released him and pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. His chest tightened at her tear-stained cheeks, and he brought his hands up to wipe at them uselessly. When his hands fell back to his lap, she sniffled a little before taking a deep breath, releasing it on a shaky sigh. 

“The choices you made kept you alive, Spencer. They were—  impossible, horrific choices that I’m sure just—” She shook her head, searching for the right words. “I’m sure the weight of the guilt and grief has to be unbearable sometimes,” she surmised. “And there’s nothing I can say that will make that any less true.” 

She cupped his face in her hands, swiping at the fresh tears with her thumbs. “But I’m... I’m so selfishly thankful for every choice you made. Because it was the perfect set of decisions in that it brought you here. To me…” The tears tracked hot down her cheeks, and she took a shaky breath. “And I feel so unbelievably lucky and so incredibly grateful to have you.”

He had her wrapped up in his arms before she’d even finished the sentence. “I never believed in luck,” he mused. He pressed a kiss into her hair and closed his eyes. “I’m still not sure if I do. But I can tell you that I’m the luckiest.”

———

Permanent tags: @spacedikut @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @rexorangecouny @rainsong01  @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin @reniescarlett @ncsls0515 @daybabyx @sturmmhond @takeyourleap-of-faith @saspencereid @calm-and-doctor @reidtheprettyboy @atabigail @ayo-cowbelly @muffin-cup @ssa-natalya-reid @wheelsup @reidingmelodies @this-is-gublerween  @s1utformgg  @reidemandweep @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @luwheezey @joalsglasses @je-suis-prest-rachel @dr-omalley @spencie-adams @honestimanormalfan @blurryreid

Permanent (sfw) tags: @mrs-dr-reid​ @eevee0722​ @goldentournesol​

Series (x reader) tags:  @kyomito​

Broken tags:  @radtwinkie

[dirty-holy-things]

Christmas Tree Farm

Part III of the Invisible String Series

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV Read on Ao3.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x AFAB Reader

Rating: Mature, for slight references to sex and swearing.

Words: 6.6k update

Chapters: 4 / ?

Warnings: Very few. Swearing, subtle references to sex.

Author's Notes: This story is broken into two segments, with the first half being Reader and Bucky's first Christmas together, and the second half being Reader and Bucky's first Christmas spent with the Wilson's, their found family.

Summary: The winter holidays can be a challenging time for many, and you and Bucky were no stranger to lonely Christmases. But love has a curious, insistent way of melting away the ice that locks away and protects our hearts; and as time passes, both you and Bucky finally allow yourselves a little bit of that holiday cheer.

If you’d like to be included in any updates, please fill out my taglist form!

The city lights somehow shone even brighter, thanks to the addition of copious (or one could say, excessive) amounts of Christmas lights that likely threatened to upend the entire city’s power grid. Every storefront was decked out with tinsel and trees, each mannequin was dressed in their holiday best, and you couldn’t take two steps without being greeted by a vibrant advertisement for “This season’s must-buy holiday gifts!” While you certainly weren’t a Grinch by any means, you also hadn’t had much of a reason to celebrate the holiday through the past few years; that was, until you found yourself a 106 year old, semi-stable boyfriend with a secret love for Christmas that was comparable to that of an eight year old on a sugar high.

The city lights somehow shone even brighter, thanks to the addition of copious (or one could say, excessive) amounts of Christmas lights that likely threatened to upend the entire city’s power grid. Every storefront was decked out with tinsel and trees, each mannequin was dressed in their holiday best, and you couldn’t take two steps without being greeted by a vibrant advertisement for “This season’s must-buy holiday gifts!” While you certainly weren’t a Grinch by any means, you also hadn’t had much of a reason to celebrate the holiday through the past few years; that was, until you found yourself a 106 year old, semi-stable boyfriend with a secret love for Christmas that was comparable to that of an eight year old on a sugar high.

Bucky Barnes was an intimidating figure to those who saw him in the streets, but after nearly a year of dating, you had thoroughly cracked that hard exterior to see the gentle and romantic man who had been locked away and frozen for so long. People on the streets saw a powerful man with a gleaming metal arm; you saw a man who could pick you up with ease, throwing you over his shoulder before pinning you down and tickling you. Shoppers in the grocery store saw a brooding and intimidating figure; you saw him fall asleep on the couch, his frame protectively curled around his cat Alpine. You had once been like all those strangers, only seeing that which was on the surface, but you had come to know and love him as a whole person.

And as such, it did not come as that much of a shock when, shortly after Thanksgiving dinner, Bucky’s requited love for Christmas broke through for the first time. “Hey, doll,” he started, an inquisitive tone in his voice. “Where’s your Christmas music? Been goin’ through your records but I can’t seem’ta find any.”

“Don’t have any,” you called out from the bedroom, folding the last of his laundry that had taken up permanent residence in your top right dresser drawer. You strolled into the living room to see him still flicking determinedly through your collection, hoping against hope to find something that would put the apartment into the holiday spirit. “Buck, I’m pretty sure I don’t have any Christmas records — but I can play some music from my phone, if you want me to.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweets.”

He sank into the plush fabric of your sofa, sighing defeatedly. You laughed at his exaggerated response, before moving to sit next to him, draping your legs across his and nestling into his arms. You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your leggings, searching for a Christmas playlist, before you were distracted by Bucky’s lingering, pensive look. “What’s on your mind, Bucky?”

He sighed, metal hand tracing cool circles into your exposed skin. “It’s nothing, it’s silly.”

You frowned, not thrilled with his sudden withdrawal. “Clearly it’s not nothing. C’mon, Buck, you can talk to me.”

“I haven’t had a real Christmas since 1943,” he said slowly. “Hydra certainly didn’t celebrate, and after I came back from the Blip, I didn’t have anyone to share one with. I thought — I had thought, maybe, since I have you, we could do something for Christmas together. But, if you’re not really in’ta Christmas, that’s okay.”

You could tell that his casual tone was forced, you could pick up the subtle changes in volume and pitch. Your heart ached for him, as you thought about the loneliness that he had endured for decades, all of the holidays and joy and traditions and memories that he had missed out on; and while you weren’t a Christmas person by nature, by god, you were going to be one for Bucky Barnes.

***

You fully assimilated into the Christmas spirit and enthusiasm, trying to provide Bucky with every sweet, cheesy, moment of joy that he had been denied for so long. The weeks leading up to Christmas were positively filled to the brim, near-bursting, with holiday spirit and theme-appropriate music, the lyrics echoing throughout your apartment to the extent that you wondered if future tenants may one day hear ghosts of Christmas past — also known as the ghost of Bucky Past, as he sang along to every tune that crooned its way through the small, shared space. You had never seen him so indulgently and freely happy before, so you didn’t begrudge the fourth or fifth playing of the Holiday Hits records, or his subtly-insistent urging for a real Christmas tree.

It was the second week of December when you executed your ‘master plan.’

Manhattan wasn’t exactly known for its Christmas tree farms, so you had planned on making the long and laborious trek out of the city to fetch your own real tree. Bucky was more than happy to oblige, with the promise that he could fell his own Christmas tree; you had no doubt that your sweet, sensitive, and powerful super-soldier could fell whatever tree stood before him. But aside from your confidence in his physical abilities, you wanted to give him this Christmas moment, this Christmas memory — you wanted to give him the opportunity to bring his tree back to your shared space, and to create these Christmas memories with him. You wanted to break his pattern of ignored or heartbroken Christmases, and after he had confessed his love for the holiday that Thanksgiving night, you had been thinking about all of the ways you could make this year special for him.

Bucky had been more than thrilled by your suggestion to drive out of the city for an evening, particularly for a Christmas tree, and the two of you sank into the slow, gentle peace that steadily grew as the car carried you further and further away from the bustling city. You had picked a destination that was quite far from the city center, having seen the positive reviews online and the promise of free hot chocolate; and to be honest, you thought that the brief break from city life could do the two of you some good.

He had picked you up from your apartment, after acquiring this evening’s rental car; and his time spent battling lazy rental car representatives and New York traffic had given you the perfect amount of time to enact your vision for the apartment before his call rang through, informing you that he was here and waiting by the front door. Your drive out of the city had been filled with more and more Christmas music, cups of coffee, and a stash of chocolate chip cookies that you had decided would be appropriate fuel for the evening ahead. Bucky had eaten ten out of the twelve you brought.

The Christmas tree farm was illuminated with countless twinkling globe lights, a soft golden glow radiating around you and bouncing off of the freshly-fallen snow that crunched underneath your boots. Bucky grinned from ear to ear, in an easy way that you had never seen before, and you felt a rush of confidence and surety about your somewhat-secret plan.

Upon your arrival at the Christmas tree farm, Bucky had quickly picked out the prettiest tree in the entire lot; the branches were tightly packed and well-filled with needles that smelled of pine and childhood memories. The attendant who had handed him the axe to fell the tree watched in shock and awe as Bucky cleaved through the tree trunk with two strong strokes; you laughed quietly into your hot chocolate, bemused by your boyfriend’s blatant display of strength. Bucky strapped the tree to the top of the rental car with impressive speed, and it was not long afterwords that you were hurtling back into the city, towards the apartment that the two of you now called home.

Forcing the tall tree into the slim elevator was a challenge, one that Bucky took in stride; and after multiple curse words and sweaty exclamations of frustration, it finally fit to the point in which Bucky could abandon the advanced geometry he had been working at. The ride upwards was humorously tense, as Bucky observed you being pinned in by the tree, and you nervously awaited the arrival that you had planned for your sweet super-soldier.

Your front door now held a large wreath, bedecked with poinsettias and glimmering gold tinsel; the sight caught Bucky off-guard, as he recognized that this was a new addition. “I like the wreath, sweets,” he grinned, moving to shift the tree out of the cramped elevator and free you from its heavy, pine-scented branches.

“Thought some Christmas decorations were in order,” you laughed lightly, finally freed from the cramped elevator; and you briefly wondered how long that fresh pine scent might linger within the small space. Bucky kept the tree upright while you nervously opened the door, suddenly anxious that maybe you had taken the Christmas enthusiasm too far.

Bucky was a man on a mission, as he determinedly hauled the tree through the hallway and into the living room; you had previously cleared a corner for the tree, right next to your patio door, hoping that the ambient light from the city would help to illuminate the tree that would now fill the recently-vacated space. You watched him corner the tree into the wall, ensuring it was supported appropriately, before he turned to survey the apartment that was surrounding him.

You might’ve gone a bit overboard with the Christmas decorations, but you would’ve thrown yourself overboard ten times more to see that smile spreading across Bucky’s face.

The entrance to the apartment now displayed a vibrant poinsettia wreath, and a welcome mat that said ‘happy holidays,’ a sentiment ensconced by the image of ivy and red berries. The tea towels in the kitchen were red and green, boasting cheeky jokes about holiday cheer, and the glassware had been replaced with wine glasses and rocks glasses of emerald green crystal. The kitchen table was fully dressed for Christmas, with gold and green accents at every turn, highlighted with poinsettia blossoms. Your plush ivory couch was now draped with multiple blankets: one chunky knit, one soft and fuzzy, and a wool blanket with a plaid blend of emerald green, dark navy, blood-red, and gold. All of the picture frames and artwork on the wall had been wrapped over to look like Christmas presents, the fireplace was bedecked with mistletoe and holly, and even the bathroom hand soaps had been swapped out for holiday scents.

“Sweets — what’s, what’s all this?” Bucky asked breathlessly, surveying the unexpected sight before him.

“It’s our first Christmas,” you responded, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved to wrap your arms around his waist, savoring the combined scent of pine and that which was distinctly Bucky. “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes — and I want to make every kind of Christmas memory with you. I want us to decorate our tree together, I want us to sneakily wrap up presents for each other, I want us to wear silly matching pajamas, I want us to leave the decorations up for way too long just because they bring us back to this perfect moment.”

Bucky’s strong and irresistible hands guided your body towards the couch, your bodies collapsing softly into the cushions as his plush and chapped lips pressed into the soft skin of your neck, biting gently at your racing pulse. You could feel the excitement and joy radiating from Bucky, comparable to the blazing heat of the sun, or a fire, or any other brightly-burning thing, and you knew that your decision to go all-in for Christmas had been the right one. Grinning to yourself, you thought about the extensive, and… myriad applicability of mistletoe you had acquired, and how you might work this into a Christmas miracle of your own.

“I love you, doll,” Bucky exhaled against your flushed skin. “I’ve never felt so fuck’n lucky, to have someone like you lovin’ me.”

You allowed yourself a moment to sink into the weight of his words, allowed yourself to feel appreciated, valued, desired, wanted. “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world,” you whispered, your hands tracing gently across the sharp and chiseled planes of his face. “Loving you is as easy as breathing… even when you steal all of the covers, or insist on rewatching Lord of the Rings for the fortieth time.”

Bucky laughed, a deep chuckle echoing from his chest as he pulled you closer against his thickly-muscled body. “Looks like quite a lot of mistletoe here, doll,” he grinned, pressing a casual kiss against your forehead as he surveyed the state of the apartment.

“Oh, yeah, that was intentional,” you quipped, giggling as you leaned in for a kiss; only to have Bucky pull away, a devilish and almost dark grin on his face.

“Y’sure you’re ready for that?” He asked, his voice holding a shred of a threat and the weight of a promise.

“Bring it on, Barnes.”

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

Christmas had grown to become a full-fledged, extravagant, blowout event with each year that passed. The holiday season started earlier and earlier, as you both plotted and planned for how to one-up the other with some sort of holiday surprise or thoughtful gift; and you eventually grew to ignore the odd looks of your neighbors as the poinsettia wreath was now regularly hung before Thanksgiving dinner was done cooking.

This year, however, was going to be different. After a handful of long-weekend trips down to Louisiana to visit Sam, Sarah, and their family, you and Bucky had decided to take an extended vacation - two weeks, to be exact. The two of you would be sharing both Christmas and New Years with the Wilson family, and you couldn’t possibly be more thrilled — or anxious.

Over the past few years, Bucky and Sam had settled into a brotherly sort of friendship, full of barbed comments, silent hugs, and quiet words of encouragement and advice; and after you met Sarah on your first Memorial Day trip to the small town, the two of you had taken to one another like lifelong best friends, sharing a love for merlot and a sense of worry for the two men who were dead-set on saving the world.

So it came as little surprise when the Wilsons invited the two of you for an extended stay; and you had eagerly agreed to the idea of both a vacation, and a holiday spent with your found family. Bucky had pretended to be resistant for a moment, mumbling something about ‘not wanting to share his time with you,’ but had caved easily when you pressed on the matter. He was likely just as eager to have a family Christmas as you were — but Sam certainly couldn’t know that.

You had spent nearly two months leading up to your trip relentlessly questioning Sarah and Sam about gift ideas, feeling an immense pressure to get things right. You struggled to keep up with the ever-evolving interests of AJ and Cass, and you felt the need to find something perfectly sweet and thoughtful for Sam and Sarah, as they had been so kind as to invite you and Bucky into their home for the holiday season. Bucky was able to sense your nervousness about finding the perfect gifts, and was able to remain fairly level-headed and reasonable as you perused countless stores. However, as empathetic and kind as your super-soldier may be, he was still prone to bouts of boredom or hunger.

“Look, sweets, we could get the kids gift cards and I’m sure they’d be more than happy —“ Bucky started, before you cut him off with an icy glare. You were in the fifth store of the day, and while Bucky’s patience with you had extended far past a reasonable amount, he was admittedly wearing thin.

“No gift cards,” you bit, cutting him off harshly, before rubbing your hand across his forearm gently in apology. “I know Sarah said they didn’t really need any more gaming stuff, but they’ve got a pretty good deal for the new Xbox here…”

Bucky chuckled lightly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss on the temple, forgiving your earlier tension. “With the way you’re try’na spoil them, you’d think they were our own kids.”

You blushed, knowing he was likely right. You were prone to gift-giving and over-indulging the wants and whims of those you loved; Bucky knew that firsthand, and was fair in assuming this would extend to all you loved — whether they were currently in existence or not. “Just imagine if we ever do have kids, Barnes,” you said lightly, hoping the barely-concealed eagerness in your voice didn’t betray you. “Honestly, you’ll be even more of a sucker than me.”

“Me? No, not at all,” he huffed, arms crossing over his broad chest.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from within, unable to picture a situation in which Bucky would be anything other than a marshmallow around children, particularly his own. “Between the two of us, you’re the one who will be a softie. Mark my words, Barnes, you’re gonna be wrapped around a tiny little finger one of these days.”

He chuckled softly, eyes flitting lightly across your body. “Y’call me Barnes an awful lot, sweets.”

You nodded, shoulders raising as if to say, so what?

“Makes me think you might like the name — y’maybe might even want it for yourself,” Bucky grinned, a simultaneously mischievous but sincere glint in his eye.

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging your shoulder into his chest. You returned your focus to the sale tags in the store, trying desperately — and futilely — to quell the reflexive, undeniable excitement that came with the idea of a life with Bucky.

Marriage, a home, babies, the whole nine yards — but you were in Target, you were getting way too ahead of yourself. That was a thought for another day, another time.

***

Your arrival at Sam and Sarah’s home had been just as warm and welcoming as you expected, with Sarah ushering you and Bucky upstairs to the spare bedroom that had basically become yours after the extensive number of vacations and visits. You and Bucky both slept well that night, as the long drive had worn you down, and for the first time in several months — if not over a year — you were up the next morning before Bucky Barnes.

It was Christmas Eve, and the excitement of this day was not lost on you; rolling away from Bucky’s solid grasp was a challenge, but you managed to do so without disturbing the sleeping brunette who had been wrapped around you like a weighted blanket. You laughed quietly to yourself as he sleepily grabbed for your pillow, pulling it inwards to cradle it between his arms.

You stealthily snuck out of the room, wanting Bucky to get whatever measure of rest possible, and made yourself decent before heading downstairs to find Sarah in the kitchen. She was dressed and ready for the day, and you slumped into a kitchen chair with a yawn.

“Coffee’s ready, I’d suggest y’get it before Sam and Buck are up.” Sarah joked with a sleepy smile. So far, only the two of you were up, and you gratefully accepted her recommendation for a cup of coffee, appreciating the warmth and rush of caffeine that it offered.

“Is there anything I can help with?” You asked, as the two of you sat down at the kitchen table together.

Sarah smiled into her cup of coffee, taking a long sip before responding. “I’ll probably have’ya give me a hand with the pancakes, you’re a good judge for when to flip them,” she commented, eyes wandering to the bay window that offered an exceptional view of the sunrise. “You can also help me by giving me a heads up about the boys’ Christmas presents.”

You instinctively felt the need to say no, to preserve the integrity of the surprise and excitement of Christmas morning, but you realized that telling Sarah wouldn’t spoil the surprise for the boys. You excitedly discussed the details of the gifts, both for the kids, and for Sam and Bucky, and despite the clock indicating an obscenely early time of 7:48AM, you still felt the Christmas spirit radiating in the cozy kitchen space.

You and Sarah worked together to prepare a full breakfast, consuming cup after cup of coffee until you heard the unmistakable sound of Bucky stepping heavily down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Stepping away from the pancakes for a moment, you quickly started to brew another pot of coffee; and as you returned to your station by the stovetop, you giggled as you felt Bucky’s arms wrap securely around your midsection.

“Well this is a Christmas miracle,” Bucky whispered into the soft skin of your neck. “You’re up and outta bed before me.”

You laughed, turning to faced him as he continued to hold your body against his. “We’re not even to Christmas yet, Barnes — who know what kinda surprises might be in store for you.”

Bucky hummed suggestively, his teeth barely grazing your skin as you shivered against him. Your body instinctively molded to his, and you were in the process of turning around for a kiss when you heard, “Ah, ah, ah!”

You pulled away from Bucky with a laugh, seeing Sarah standing by the sink, hands planted firmly on her waist as she stared the two of you down with the kind of glare that only mothers could possess. “Not in my kitchen! Save that shit for Brooklyn.”

There was an undeniable heat in your cheeks, and you could see the pink tinge that Bucky’s face took on as Sarah called the two of you out. He still kept his hands on you, but with less suggestive placement. “M’sorry, Sarah, I just couldn’t help myself.”

She rolled her eyes before tossing him the coffee mug she had just finished drying; Bucky, of course, caught it despite the lack of warning. “Well, help yourself to some coffee and breakfast - I suggest you get started before the boys are up, it’ll be a frenzy before too long.”

Bucky laughed and grabbed your mostly-empty coffee mug as he strode across the kitchen; he was filling the second cup as a thunderous sound echoed through the house, as Cass, AJ, and Sam quickly filled the remaining space in the kitchen. The boys were startlingly hyper despite having just woken up - you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up that exuberantly - and Sam yawned while making a beeline for the coffee pot that Bucky held in his metal grasp. The two men exchanged the coffee pot silently, but peacefully; and you and Sarah stepped back from the kitchen to rest on the couch, to enjoy the remainder of the morning and watch the feeding frenzy that was comparable to piranhas descending on the sun-streaked Louisiana kitchen.

***

The remainder of Christmas Eve had gone smoothly and happily; AJ and Cass fell asleep close to 11PM, about halfway through The Grinch, and Bucky and Sam had carried them to bed despite weak protestations that they wanted to stay up to catch Santa. As soon as Sam and Bucky returned to give the all-clear, indicating the boys were soundly asleep, you and Sarah set to work on bringing out all of the gifts that had been carefully concealed.

You were stacking presents meticulously when you saw Bucky taking a handful of the Christmas cookies that had been left out for Santa; Sam had noticed as well, and he frowned. “Hey, man, I don’t see you in a red suit with a white beard,” Sam whispered loudly.

“Don’t see you in one either,” Bucky responded around a mouthful of a poorly-iced sugar cookie. The five of you had spent the afternoon baking and icing cookies for Santa, the neighbors, and the mailman; and while it was adorable and endearing, there was a distinct lack of artistic talent for cookie decorating.

“Bucky, share the cookies,” You laughed, nudging him to hand over the plate that he had taken hostage. Bucky grumbled, but you could see the way the corner of his lip quirked up; he was just as amused and happy in this scene as you were. The remainder of the cookies were shared, Sarah finished stuffing the stockings, and you placed the last present under the tree; looking at the last gift, you saw your swooping handwriting on the tag: To Bucky, with love.

“Is that everything?” Sarah asked, an exhausted but content look upon her face. “Last call for gifts, before Santa takes off for the night.”

Bucky coughed, giving Sam a side-eyed look that didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Should be everything,” Bucky responded cooly, but you could see the subtle flexing and whirring in the prosthetic arm that indicated a sort of nervousness within him. It was Christmas Eve, what could he be stressing about? Unless a gift had gotten lost in-between airports; but you had accounted for everything, you were sure of it. Shaking off the feeling as a side effect of exhaustion, you smiled when Bucky extended a hand to help you off the floor. “Ready to say g’night, doll?”

You nodded, and the both of you said quiet goodnights to Sam and Sarah before heading to bed for the evening. Tucking yourselves into the warm, soft bed, you saw the clock blink at 12:08AM. “Merry Christmas Bucky,” you whispered softly, planting a gentle kiss against his forehead, the soft glow of the moon illuminating the few silver hairs that had slowly appeared along his hairline.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he mumbled happily, from the warm space between sleep and waking, the space where anything good could feel true, the space where Santa might be real and the world might be kind.

***

You had forgotten how early kids tend to wake up on Christmas morning. A silent apology to your parents passed through your groggy mind as you worked to drag yourself out of bed, having been roused by the inescapable sound of fists banging on the closed door and children’s muffled screams of, “Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

Bucky wore his usual early-morning scowl; one that would’ve sent fear coursing through any rational person, but it was a look you knew and loved. He pressed the soft, downy pillow over his head, trying to muffle out AJ & Cass’s insistent excitement. “Too… early…”

You laughed hoarsely, your voice not fully awake just yet. “You try telling them that, see how far it gets you,” you suggested, as you grabbed for your glasses and the pair of pajama pants that you kept handy for decency’s sake. Bucky grumbled again, and glancing at the clock, you realized you couldn’t blame him. It hadn’t yet cracked 6AM, and while Bucky was the early riser out of the two of you, this was a solid hour before his internal clock would typically wake him up. “C’mon, Buck, up and at ‘em. It’s Christmas morning, there’s presents and coffee waiting.”

The two of you finally emerged from the door, disheveled and sleep-deprived, only to be greeted by the loud cheers of AJ and Cass, who informed you that everyone else was already up.

***

The den quickly devolved into a chaotic mess of torn wrapping paper, slackened bows, crumpled tissue paper, and more toys and electronics than the room should’ve rightly been able to hold. The adults sat back and watched as AJ and Cass tore through every present, shouting and jumping and screaming in excitement with each gift that was voraciously revealed. You had shrugged your shoulders in a subtle I’m sorry to Sarah, as the kids triumphantly lifted the new Xbox above their heads. She didn’t seem to mind too much, however, after watching AJ and Cass tackle Uncle Bucky to the ground with promises and threats of ‘kicking his old butt at Mario Kart.’

As the glitter and tinsel settled throughout the love-filled room, AJ and Cass proceeded to withdraw from the early-morning celebrations to play with their new assortment of toys, games, and electronics. You had finished your second cup of coffee and had sent Bucky to retrieve your third, while you and Sam plucked the remaining gifts from underneath the tree, to be distributed amongst the adults.

You passed Sarah a thick envelope that was tied with a silver ribbon, and watched as she pulled forth a stack of papers of various sizes — airplane tickets, hotel check-in details, Broadway tickets — and happy tears flooded her cheeks as she hugged both you and Bucky tightly, thanking you for the fully-planned vacation. “Oh, and it’s not written anywhere officially, but we’re also volunteering to babysit,” you added, and laughed as Sarah grinned and clenched her fist in excitement.

“We are?” Bucky asked, pretending to be surprised. You elbowed him gently, and he corrected himself. “Yes, of course we are.”

The gift-giving continued, with lots of laughter and happy tears. Sam and Sarah had gifted you the slate-blue Le Creuset you had been eyeing wistfully for years, and Bucky received a set of tickets to a symphony performance and dance night, featuring hits from the 1940s. “Might have’ta bust out the old uniform for this one, doll,” he said with a sly grin. “Used to look real nice in those slacks, y’outght’a have the chance to appreciate the view.”

“Oh, I can only imagine the number of girls you pulled in that uniform, Barnes,” you teased. He shrugged nonchalantly as a thick arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his relaxed body. “Hey, ease up — you’re gonna make me spill my coffee!”

Bucky planted a solid kiss against your forehead as he drew you in closer, albeit with more consideration for the scalding-hot beverage in your hand this time. “That’s ancient history, sweetheart. No need to worry about Dolores at the nursing home stealing me from you.”

“Y’sure about that, Buck? I’ve heard stories about you and a redhead named Dolores…” Sam interjected, a playfully antagonistic hint to his voice. Bucky retaliated by throwing a pillow at Sam’s head, with the kind of ferocity that could only come from a super-soldier. “Kidding, kidding,” Sam laughed, as the pillow hit him squarely in the shoulder.

Both you and Bucky laughed, and he plucked the cup of steaming coffee from your hands, taking a sip before commenting further. “Only one girl I ever truly loved, sweetheart, and she’s right here with me,” he said softly, his voice rough and gravelly, but full of sincerity.

You knew that Bucky loved you, and you knew that you loved him. Little else in the world seemed to matter past those two facts, but you also understood that your shared love existed in a complex and challenging world. A world that you struggled to find a place in, a world that had all too many places for Bucky to fill; the freedom of narrative had been stolen from both of you, but as you retrieved your Christmas gift for Bucky, you hoped you had found a way to give a piece of that narrative back to him.

You handed him a thin, flat box; meticulously and nervously wrapped, the tag unmistakeable; To Bucky, with love.

You watched him open it excitedly, and he pulled out two photos. The first photo was from the original Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian, the one that had stood for several years now. The second photo was one that you had taken yourself, of the recently-updated exhibit; specifically, the segment of the exhibit that documented Bucky’s history. You watched his facial expressions closely as he examined the differences, and you saw his jaw twitch and throat tighten as he focused more closely upon the second, most recent image.

“W-what’s this, doll?” He asked, his voice shaking.

You placed a hand gently over his, the one that held the image of the updated exhibit. “This,” you spoke softly, pointing at the inscription, “This is your legacy, Bucky Barnes. The true one. The one that matters, the one that countless people will read every single day. This is the story that everyone will know.”

Looking at the photograph grasped tightly within Bucky’s human hand, you read aloud the new inscription.

“Born in 1916, Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom, Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front.

Captured by HYDRA troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, deprivation, torture, and experimentation; but his will was strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America.

Reunited, Barnes and Rogers led Captain America’s newly formed unit, the Howling Commandos. Barnes’ marksmanship was invaluable as Rogers and his team destroyed HYDRA bases and disrupted Nazi troop movements throughout the European Theater.”

Bucky nodded, commenting quietly. “I’ve seen this part, at the Smithsonian.”

“Yes, that was the original; the one you would’ve seen. They also noted your date of death — but as you well know, there’s more to the story,” you added gently, drawing your finger across the image to direct Bucky’s attention to the new addition.

“Barnes was tragically captured by HYDRA operatives after what was perceived to be a deadly fall. Captain America and the Howling Commandos mourned their loss of their brother and companion, with the unit fully dissolving after the loss of Captain America.

Barnes was kept as a HYDRA prisoner of war for decades, before being freed through the work of his childhood best friend. Recruited by Rogers to fight against the Titan known as Thanos, Barnes fought valiantly alongside the Avengers and helped restore the world to its rightful state.

Barnes is recognized as one of the great heroes of our time, having successfully overcome the might of both HYDRA and Thanos. As a nation, and as a global community, we now look to Barnes as an example: an example of what is good, what is right, what is resilient, what is brave and unbreakable.”

Your hands were shaking as you finished reading the new inscription, the new addition to the exhibit; and while your hands were shaking, all of Bucky was shaking. You reached an unsteady hand out towards him, letting it settle onto his shallowly breathing chest. “This is how the world will remember you, Bucky. Not as the Winter Soldier, but as a hero, as James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier was never you — and nobody will make that mistake again.”

Bucky huffed, exhaling strongly, and you could see that he was fighting off the tears that were threatening to spill from his ocean-blue eyes; you reached to hold his hand, squeezing it tightly as you smiled up at him. His bottom lip trembled slightly as his free hand came up to stroke your face; you leaned into the cool feeling of the vibranium against your warm cheek and kissed the corner of his hand that lingered against you.

“How’d you manage to pull this off, doll?” Bucky asked, voice shaking.

You shrugged and smiled playfully. “I think you’re forgetting that I work for the Smithsonian Institute, Buck. I was able to pull a few strings, call in a few favors — and anyways, museums are pretty heavily invested in having the correct information.”

Bucky laughed hoarsely, the tears receding before they had the opportunity to fall. Sam and Sarah had watched on quietly, both of them feeling grateful for the acceptance and love that you and Bucky had found with one another. “Y’know, Buck, I was thinking that your gift was pretty impressive, but after this… I dunno, man. She might have you beat.”

You looked back and forth between the two men; clearly, secrets had been exchanged, and you had been left out of it. Bucky winced as he leaned over to retrieve your gift, agreeing with Sam. “Yeah, shit, I don’t know how I can follow that. Rewriting history? Jesus, you didn’t even give me a chance.”

Bucky placed a long, narrow box in your hands, and despite his previous comment, he still smiled excitedly as you picked at the red, snowflake-covered wrapping paper. “Whatever it is, Buck, I know I’m gonna love it.”

The lid to the box opened with ease, and the contents both shocked and confused you for a moment. Your fingers nimbly grasped the silver dog tags that rested within the box, the metal chain clinking against itself as you looked more closely.

JAMES B BARNES

32557030 T42 2B

R. BARNES

3092 STOCKTON RD

SHELBYVILLE IN

The tags had been unmistakeable, undeniably familiar, from the moment you laid eyes on them. Holding the tags tightly within your hand, you turned to Bucky with questions in your eyes, and on your lips, but he beat you to it.

“Yes, these were mine. But they’re yours now.”

You stuttered, still shocked by the gesture. “B-But Bucky, aren’t you supposed to keep these on you? Isn’t it like some sort of rule? In case — oh, god, in case anything ever happened —“

Bucky shushed you as you became increasingly worried by the thought of something happening to him, the thought of him disappearing without anything remaining to identify him as the man that you loved. “Shh, doll. Nothing’s gonna happen to me, and that’s exactly why I’m givin’ these to you. I promise, I’m never gonna leave you. I’ll never be far enough away from you to need these ever again.”

While Bucky may not have cried, you certainly did, unable to fight off the swell of emotions that hit you like a tidal wave — but a tidal wave of all good things. The weight of his words ad his gesture was overwhelming; he was handing you a piece of himself, entrusting it to you, and promising that you’d never again have to face a world without him in it. You thought about these same dog tags, how they had rested against his chest for decades, and now having this piece of him so close to your heart threatened to entirely overwhelm you.

“I love you, Bucky, god, I don’t even know what else to say right now, I love you more than anything —“ Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and you breath was a staccato rhythm as your gaze flitted between the dog tags and the man they belonged to.

Bucky grinned, and you could see the threat of tears had returned. “Just promise me you’ll wear ‘em — and that you won’t lose ‘em.”

You nodded and smiled sweetly at him, before handing him the dog tags so he could fasten them around your neck. His hands cupped your chin and brought you in for a gentle kiss, despite the protests of Sam and Sarah; but they sounded worlds away, because your whole world was right here, holding you, and would never let you go.

***

Taglist: @bdavishiddlesbatch @aleynaandrews @who-is-a-heretic-now

[kpop-stan23-writes]

cowboy like me

group: the boyz member: q (ji changmin) genre: fluff word count: 1.9k warnings: implied sex, but only very very very; a couple swear words pairing: q x gn!reader

part of the playlist series

note: the lyrics are out of song-order, but i pieced them together based on how i thought it best fit the flow of the story. also, since i do quote the lyrics, it's obviously being sung from a woman's perspective, but it definitely doesn't have to apply to the story itself

hustling for the good life

as a child, you had nothing

but you saw the glittering, beautiful, luxurious things that were always so far out of reach

and you decided at a young age that you would someday achieve those glittering, beautiful, luxurious heights

you watched your mother turn tricks growing up, charming her lovers into extra cash or little gifts

you watched your father pick pockets and work as a con artist on the streets, betting unsuspecting passersby he could beat them at games of chance

it taught you how powerful words can be

and that is the only lesson you bother to take away from your childhood

you're a young adult now and since leaving home years before, you haven't looked back

perched in the dark/telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear like it could be love/i could be the way forward only if they pay for it

with your good looks and silver tongue, you quickly find yourself charming the riches out of the rich

it doesn't matter who they are, what their occupation or reputation, young or old

you sit back and watch your potential lover from afar, figuring how much you can milk and planning the perfect approach

then you charm your way into their lives and eventually into their bank accounts

and with their eyes full of stars, they're none the wiser

your most recent love affair, though, a man who is finally ready to settle down, is getting to be too...much

so you slip out in the middle of the night, taking a few knickknacks and jewels along the way

it's time for you to move on

and the tennis court was covered up with some tent-like thing

it's a beautiful day in early autumn

the trees are various shades of red and your path to the country club is paved with golden leaves that crunch just slightly under your feet

you show your expensive creme-colored invitation to the tall man who guards the elite from the plebians and are waved inside without a second glance

the charity event is taking place on the country club's multiple tennis courts

despite the weakening sun's rays, the rich want to protect their lily-white skin by covering the courts with lily-white cloth tents

you wouldn't mind the sun, but as you've learned during your rise from the bottom, the elite will do anything to protect their fair skin

you float around the crowd, sharing smiles and greetings with the other guests

you eventually find yourself at the open bar, where of course the only drinks being served are fancy cocktails, expensive wines, and top-shelf liquors

as you're waiting for your fancy expensive top-shelf drink, you spot a new face in the crowd

he looks to be your age, and is absolutely beautiful

strong eyebrows, soft cheekbones, full lips, and the most captivating cat-like eyes you've ever seen

he smiles at you and then politely excuses himself from the woman giggling girlishly at something he must have said

the woman watches him as he walks away and when she sees where he is headed, her eyes narrow at you

you just raise your just-served drink with a quirk of your lip and the young man striding toward you chuckles

"would you like to dance?" he asks you as soon as he reaches you

a string quartet is playing on a small stage and there's an area clear of tall tables made for standing

a few couples dance already

but you just sip your drink and say "i don't know...dancing is a dangerous game"

"doesn't make it any less fun, though, does it?"

you can't help but smile at his response and against your better judgement, you accept his hand

oh, i thought/this is gonna be one of those things

it's quiet once you reach the small dance floor

just the gentle string music and quiet hum of conversation

"i'm changmin, by the way. ji changmin."

you glance at him through your eyelashes and after a beat, you introduce yourself

he smiles once more and silence settles over you two again

you part once the quartet changes pieces

the rich flock to you and changmin, regardless of age or marital status

each of your attentions are occupied for the rest of the evening

but glances are spared throughout the night

the shared glances grow longer and heavier until you finally find yourself in a fancy hotel room without feeling like you need a shower first thing in the morning

you disappear before dawn, allowing yourself one brief moment to venerate changmin's lithe naked back which still bare evidence of your rather enjoyable evening together

you think that's that

i've got some tricks up my sleeve

your steps are as light as the pre-dawn autumn air

a small smile graces your lips and you admire the little trinket you slipped out of the hotel room: a tiger's eye-tipped tie pin

but as you're holding it up to watch the early-morning sunrays sparkle off the warm brown gem, you realize something

you're missing your silver pinky ring

you had some tricks up your sleeve

it's the only piece of your childhood you carry into adulthood and perhaps the only real item you've assigned sentimental value

you turn on your heel and march back toward the hotel entrance, intent on sneaking back into the hotel room to find that damn ring

but you hear someone call your name from above you

you look up and see changmin leaning out from a window, still bare-chested

something small is pinched between his fingers

you can't tell what it is from the ground

but the knowing smirk on his lips tells you all you need to know

takes one to know one

you consider turning your back to him

but that ring means a stupid amount to you

so you straighten your shoulders, hold you head high, and stride purposefully into the hotel lobby

because no way are you going to back down from someone like ji changmin

yo expect him to make you knock on the door, make you wait for him to answer

but the door is already propped open by the time you reach the room and you step inside to find him sitting on the couch in the in-suite living room (this time with a shirt), your small silver ring resting on the coffee table

you slowly sink into the chair across from him and silently place his tie pin on the table beside your ring

it's silent for a moment, you and changmin simply observing each other

"aren't you full of surprises" you finally say with a small quirk of your lips

changmin chuckles and pushes your ring toward you and you do the same with his pin

you each take your returned items and for a moment simply stare at them in your hands

you're uncertain what to do, and so is changmin

because this has never happened to either of you before

a con artist trying to pull one over another con artist

you glance up and catch his eye and you both can't help but laugh a little

because how ridiculous!

the silence returns and so does the uncertainty

changmin finally looks at the expansive, flashy watch on his wrist

you expect him to make some excuse about running late for some bullshit appointment

but instead he says "it's early. would you like to eat breakfast with me?"

much like the evening before, you find yourself nodding against your better judgement

you're a cowboy like me/never wanted love just a fancy car

and thus starts the most unexpected love affair of your life

because who knew ji changmin would turn out to be just like you

a suave, silver-tongued tempest who lives lover to lover, acquiring a small fortune in the process

he grew up poor, like you

he grew up resenting what his parents had to resort to in order to put food on the table, like you

he grew up deciding fancy things would be worth more than love in the long run

just like you

you laugh over that first shared breakfast about all the similarities you seem to share

all the similarities that led you to that moment

in that hotel room

with a fellow con artist

sharing a past you thought would stay firmly behind you

now i'm waiting by the phone like i'm waiting in an airport bar

you find yourself falling into a pattern with changmin

a pattern you've never had before

a pattern you never expected

it's new and exciting but also kinda scary because you never thought you'd feel this way about another person

more and more you find your evenings carrying over into the next morning

and then those next mornings turning into the next day

and then those next days melting into the next evening

soon, it's rarer to be without changmin than to be with him

and you hate that you find yourself wishing he was with you

because the L word was never supposed to be part of your vocabulary

of course what you don't realize is that changmin is feeling just as unexpectedly enamored by you

you're a bandit like me/eyes full of stars

you wake up one morning a tangle of limbs, changmin wrapped around you warmer than any of the numerous fur coats in your closet

his face is tucked into the crook of your neck and with each warm breath that ghosts across your skin, you feel your heart melt just a little more

there's a small mirror on the beside table and you happen to catch your reflection

the stars that you had always seen in your target's lover's eyes now fill your own

you bite your lip uncertainly because is this what love looks like?

you feel changmin's arm tighten around your waist as he begins to wake and you turn in his arms to face him

his eyes open slowly and when his gaze settles on you, a soft smile pulls at his lips and you feel his thumb stroke your lower back

"good morning" he says sleepily, his eyelids already dropping shut again

but you catch something in his dark eyes before they close that makes your heart skip a beat

because the stars you had seen in your reflection

you see the same stars in changmin's eyes

those stars in both your eyes remain

and you begin to grow used to them

you begin to grow to love them

we could be the way forward and i know i'll pay for it

you're waiting for the moment for it all to explode in your face

you're dreading that moment

you steel yourself for that inevitable ka-boom

you prepare yourself for life after changmin

in your weaker moments, you wonder if it was worth it

if loving changmin is worth what you know will be the greatest loss you have ever suffered

but you just have to take one look at his beautiful smile and those thoughts melt away

because no matter what happens, it will have been worth it

loving changmin will always be worth it

with your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con

but it never comes

and you find yourself relieved

because could you really have any sort of relationship after changmin, fake or not?

you don't think you ever want to find out

spoiler alert: you never have to

and i'm never gonna love again

note: i didn't even get to use some my favorite lyrics from the song ☹️ but i just couldn't find a way to fit into the flow of the story 😭 maybe i'll post another part that contains those lyrics?