#cards on the table: grew up with the series and it was my everything until like 2011

[saturnville]

I just got an idea for another part of the letter series: John writes to Amelia that he worries she’s not going to like this version of himself. He’s just filled with a lot of doubt and he understands if she wants to end things where it’s at. Amelia assures John that she’s with him now & forever.

a letter to you, major john egan

pairing: major john egan x amelia mae egan warning: implicit discussions about mental health content: in which john writes to amelia about his doubts. tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum an: I want all to know that in my mind, amelia and john stay together until they die and she changed her middle name to rose.

John Egan’s mind was under attack. Bullets of doubt and missiles of hopelessness infiltrated the barriers that were once sturdy and stable. Everything came crashing down like the walls of Jericho. 

Days felt longer as their time in Germany grew elongated. The nights dragged by and never seemed to end. The only thing that lulled him to sleep were the words of Amelia Mae on the now-wrinkled sheet of paper he kept in the pocket of his coat. It was the blood for his body; the only thing that kept him alive. 

He had no issue falling asleep most nights. All other nights, however, his heavy eyes stayed open and refused to close. So, he did what was unusual for him to do--write. He’d sulk off into a corner with one of the oil lamps, pull out a sheet of dingy paper, and write until his hand cramped and his tears signed his signature for him. 

My darlin’ Amelia Rose, 

I hear we’re gettin’ out of here soon. I surely hope that’s the cause; I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this. The Germans are intense; always on guard and ready to strike at any moment. One wrong move, or even just a wrong breath, lands a man dead. I’ve seen more bodies collapse just tryin’ to survive in the camp than I did in the air. 

Stuff like this changes a man, Rose. The guys are convinced I lost it ‘cause repeating old ball games is the only thing the keeps my mind off the horrors of being a damn prisoner. I haven’t eaten a real meal since the day I left you. I haven’t felt the warmth of my own bed and it makes me as cold as I feel at night. 

Rose, I don’t know what it’s gonna be like when I come home.

I’ve heard stories of when men make it home to their ladies; not all of them are good. He ends up chasing her away. I don’t want to chase you away, but I don’t want to hurt you either. This version of me is not the one you knew and I don’t know if you’ll love him like you did the other version of me.

I can’t think straight. I can’t sleep through the night. I’m just…here. 

And if you don’t want to be with me because of that, I understand. It would hurt, but I would get it. You’re a good woman, Rose and I don’t want to make you feel any sort of pain.

I’ve got to get back to my bunk before someone notices I’m missing, or even worse, the Germans find out I’m awake. 

I think about you always and miss you dearly. Write back soon. 

With all my love, 

Johnny

It took three weeks to receive something back from her. He thought he’d be used to it by now, the waiting game, that is. But at this point, anxiety was his portion and fed him well. The mind games began to get more complex as the voices of uncertainty spurred him on with tricks. What she divorced him? Left him high and dry because he wasn’t the same. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself. 

John huffed as he played with the corners of the most recent (three week old) letter he received. The other man were gathered around the child-like sized tables playing cards, talking, and joking. They were better at making the most of situations than he was. He was good at it for some time, but the repetition grew old, and the song he knew so well became unfamiliar. 

A familiar, “Mail, boys!” came ruggedly from the doorway. The men scattered like flies, sorting and sifting through the letters. John’s eyes lit up as he stood to his feet, gratefully taking the letter from the mailman’s hand. He sauntered off to a corner and slid down the wall. 

Her handwriting was just as pretty as it always had been. Major John Egan, written in the middle with a red pen. It was his favorite color because it reminded him of her cherry red lip stick that stained his skin whenever she wore it. John tore the top of the envelope and pulled the letter out. His heartrate increased. 

Dear John, 

I can’t help but say that it pains me to know that you think I’d leave you. Do you remember the vows we took? For better or for worse and in sickness and in health? If I didn’t believe I could stand by those words, I wouldn’t have said them. And, I knew I married a soldier. This comes with the territory. 

You’ve seen things I would deem unimaginable. You’ve heard things that would drive me mad. You’ve felt a pain that I couldn’t picture. Do you know how foolish I would be to think you’d come back the same way you left? 

When I married you, I married the versions of you that you and I have yet to see. 

I am here for you, John Egan. I’m not going anywhere. 

The light at the end of the tunnel isn’t clear to you right now, and that’s okay. We’ll work on it when you come home. We are a unit; we move together. So, we’ll get through it. Together. 

Get some rest, John. It’s not over for you--your story doesn’t end here. 

With everlasting love,  

Rose

He wasn’t aware of his tears until they smeared the lipstick stain on the lower corner. John brought the letter to his face, inhaling the scent of her perfume. So sweet. She’d wait for him. She wouldn’t, no she refused to leave him. 

How good it felt to be loved by her.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Lost Sons

Fandoms: Vicious by V.E. Schwab & Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Summary: Victor's hunt for EON continues, but with no trail left to follow, he hears about a man in Kerch known as Dirtyhands who can find anything.

Warnings: spoilers for both book series bc it takes place after!! seriously don't read this is you haven't read Vicious, Vengeful, Six of Crows AND Crooked Kingdom (unless you're trying to decide if you like the characters ig, and then peruse this with a grain of salt bc they're OOC)- anyway- angst, violence, threats, depiction of abandonment, self-sacrificial themes, banter, fluff (this makes it sound so much more intense than it is I promise)

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

A/N: Should this be part 1 of a series?👀 I need to know where this goes, but do you? And if I add Kaz to my list of characters, would anyone notice or care? I have so many questions and these books have awoken so much in me.

Map from Pinterest (Crooked Kingdom)

Victor’s worn leather shoes pattered softly against the wooden dock in Kerch. Low-hanging clouds blocked the sunlight above him, and Victor walked away from the ship without glancing back at the True Sea behind him. He heard the stories of the Fold, the Black Heretic, and the Sun Summoner, who changed the fate of West Ravka on his journey. Yet none of it changed anything for him, EOs, or humanity as a whole. One minuscule corner of the world had been saved, yet Victor looked around at the freed people in disgust. EON was still out there, and while these people celebrated the new world and praised Sankta Alina – whoever that was – for defeating the Fold and the Darkling, EOs were being hunted alive, slaughtered, or worse, experimented on until they died in agony.

After months alone, following every lead, every clue through the countries and across continents, Victor couldn’t even remember how he ended up in West Ravka. After he crossed the sea and landed in Kerch, he walked through the crowds of 5th Harbor, turning his pain dial up enough to remain invisible, unseen. Victor walked until the buildings around him grew closer together, the alleys were darker, and the people looked noticeably different.

Victor slowed outside a club, feeling a ripple in the air. There were powers nearby, and when Victor looked up at the wooden sign above his head, it flapped in a wild wind that he could not feel, even mere feet below. Suddenly, the sign snapped back into place, and Victor saw the image of a crow drinking from a nearly empty glass, with thorny vines wrapping around the goblet. With one final look around him, Victor entered the Crow Club and found an empty table in a corner where he could see everything and everyone.

“It’s lost forever,” someone said over a hand of cards.

“Nothing’s lost in the Barrel,” another voice argued. “Ask Dirtyhands.”

The first person scoffed, then insisted, “I can’t pay his prices.”

“He accepts favors these days, from what I’ve heard.”

“That’s what I can’t afford.”

Victor’s eyes slid smoothly to another table, watching a boy who looked closer to Sydney’s age than his own, with two pearl-handled revolvers hanging at his hips. He won a hand, and immediately, a large man who looked like he’d blend in better at the docks bent over to whisper in his ear. The boy sighed and left the game to disappear through an interior door.

Dirtyhands, Victor thought. If he can find what’s lost, maybe he can pick up EON’s trail. Victor pushed the idea away before it thoroughly formed in his mind. He couldn’t bring Sydney and Mitch into this, so why would he invite a stranger into his war?

“Put those away,” a girl demanded.

Victor turned in his seat, moving as if floating rather than sitting, and his coat ruffled behind him. He saw the girl, with long black hair braided intricately over her shoulder. A metal blade glinted quickly beneath her cloak, and the agitated man slid his knives back into his coat. She dipped her head, stepped back, and disappeared.

Victor stood but didn’t see her again. Whatever was happening in Kerch, there was more to it than a years-ago deceased sun summoner. And Victor realized with a sigh that Dirtyhands is the only one who will know the extent of it.

“Brekker!” someone called. “What’ll you have?”

Victor watched the boy surveying the club. He had the eyes of a predator, bouncing rapidly around the room, taking everything in, and his gaze was as intense as the bitter coffee contained in its color. His coat clung to him in perfectly tailored lines. He stood leaning on his cane, hair neatly pushed back from his pale brow, a black glass boy of deadly edges. While Victor could see elements of himself in the boy, he knew he only saw the shallowest of his depths. Brekker was well-dressed, but his limp and the crow head cane at his side held Victor’s attention.

“Demjins don’t drink,” Brekker rasped.

Victor’s eyes dropped to the cane, but this time, he took in the gloves on Brekker’s hands. Covered… as if they’re dirty. Kaz dipped his head to one of the tables across the room from Victor, then led a pale boy with golden curls into the same door the armed boy had used. Wherever they went, Victor knew he needed to talk to Dirtyhands, and he was convinced the Brekker, despite his age, knew more than he should and wore those gloves for a reason. Just before Brekker disappeared through the door, Victor reached out for his pain. Once he sensed it, he could follow Brekker, but not for long or far. Victor left the Crow Club with no more than a silent ruffle of his trench coat. He walked, unnoticed, until he found an alley filled with shadows.

“Brekker,” Victor called into the dark.

He couldn’t see the boy, but he heard the tiny shift in his breathing. If Brekker wanted to hide, Victor would make him come out. Turning the dial, Victor stepped forward as Brekker’s leg buckled. The boy, who looked even younger and more scarred up close, caught himself on his cane and bared his teeth at Victor just before the pretty girl with the knives from the club landed soundlessly behind him. She put her hands beneath her coat and extended those same blades, mouthing something as she twirled them.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Victor assured them.

“Interesting way of showing it,” Brekker grunted. “What business?”

Victor’s pale brows furrowed before another boy demanded, “What do you want?”

The boy with the pearl guns, Victor knew without looking. “Where’s the other one? Curly little guy?”

“I’m not little,” he interjected.

“Is that all of you?” Victor asked, looking intently at Brekker.

“Not quite,” another girl answered. “Kaz, who’s your friend?”

Kaz tore his eyes from Victor to glare at her, and Victor suddenly missed Sydney. Here he was, thousands of miles from where he abandoned her after promising to never hurt her, standing with five kids who were probably stuck in this life because they had no other choice. Like his Sydney.

“There’s five of you,” Victor said. “And one of me, I assure you I mean no harm. My name is Victor.”

“Kaz Brekker,” the boy replied. “There are six of us, in case you get any ideas.”

Victor nodded once, then turned the pain dial down. Kaz relaxed and pushed himself up, though, and Victor removed every trace of his pain. If asked, he would admit it wasn’t pity, but it wasn’t wholly self-serving either.

“Nina,” Kaz barked.

“What?” she asked, and it sounded like she has something in her mouth. “I had it in my pocket.”

Kaz looked pointedly at his leg, and the girl made another confused sound.

“Feel better?” Victor asked, knowing he did.

“What did you do?”

“It’s temporary, don’t get too excited.”

“What business?” Kaz repeated. “What do you want?”

“I… I need your help,” Victor admitted. “Dirtyhands, right? I hear you can find, steal anything, nothing’s too lost or hidden.”

“Where did you hear that?” the girl behind him asked, stepping protectively to Brekker’s side.

“Inside your club. If you want to keep that private, control your customers. Now, can you help me or not?”

“I don’t think anyone can help you, Victor.”

Victor froze, his pale brows drawn together as if he’d heard a ghost.

“You said five-on-one,” the blade-wielding girl accused.

“What are you doing here?” Victor asked, turning his head over his shoulder but refusing to look.

One of the crows stepped forward, but Kaz raised his hand quickly to stop them. He watched the people at the end of the alley, recognizing the unspoken connection between the pale man who could control pain and the little girl in the rainbow leggings. They looked alike, reminding him of himself and Jordie. Despite knowing better, Kaz wanted to know what would happen next. Victor was an outsider, and as long as he was in the Barrel, Kaz needed to know.

“Still picking fights you can’t win, Vale?” the large, tattooed man asked.

“Go home,” Victor demanded.

“What home?” the girl countered angrily. “You left!”

“To keep you safe, Sydney!” Victor snapped. He took a deep breath and returned quickly to his composed exterior. “You need to go.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Sydney answered, simple and concrete. “You promised to keep me safe. I’m holding you to that and abandoning me to chase a ghost isn’t keeping your word, Vic.”

“I can make you all leave,” a sixth voice said.

“Quiet,” Kaz demanded. “All of you. What is it that you came here to find, Victor?”

“I need to find someone,” Victor answered.

“To kill them,” the bronze girl finished.

“No need for assumptions, Inej,” Kaz murmured.

“She’s right!” Sydney called.

Victor sighed, turning on his heel to face Sydney. He regretted it immediately. She hadn’t aged, but she looked tired, and he knew he did too. If she and Mitch had found him, it means they had wandered as far as he had, been lost and alone, unprotected, in foreign lands. Victor couldn’t dwell on that, so he spread his hands at his sides, and Sydney nodded once. It’s not the apology Mitch wanted, and he raised a brow and crossed his muscular arms over his chest to show it.

“I’m not a mercenary,” Kaz interrupted. “If you want my type of help, perhaps this isn’t the best place to discuss it.”

Victor’s coat began lightening, the black dye seeping out until its former blackness returned. Powers. He looked at Sydney, then turned to Kaz.

“Do you believe that there’s more to life? More than ordinary humans? A way to be special? To be heroes?” he asked.

 “This is not a conversation for Ketterdam,” Inej insisted. “I’ll bring them to the office.”

Kaz nodded and melted into the shadows, like a stray cat returning to the only safety he could find. Inej gestured for Victor to follow her, and he walked in silence beside Mitch as Inej answered seemingless endless questions from Sydney.

“Where did it get you, Victor?” Mitch asked as they entered an empty hallway. “Being capable doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

The door closed behind them, and Kaz leaned against his desk, using his cane to point. “Who is this?”

Sydney opened her mouth to answer, but Victor cut her off. “Sydney, and this is Mitch. They’re my… partners, I suppose.” Sydney smiled widely, and Victor purposefully avoided looking in her direction.

“This is Inej, that’s all you need to know for now,” Kaz replied. Nina scoffed, and Sydney squinted, reminding Kaz that he already said her name. He sighed and continued, “Nina, Jesper, Wylan.”

“That’s only five,” Sydney pointed out.

“Our fifth likes to make an entrance,” Kaz answered easily. “Tell me more about this person you need to find.”

“Not a person, people,” Victor corrected. “They call themselves EON, they hunt extraordinaries.” At the confusion on the crows’ faces, he explained, “Powered individuals.”

Kaz looked at Wylan, who looked to Jesper, who looked at Inej, who narrowed her eyes at Nina.

“He hunted Grisha,” she explained. “Past tense. I reformed him, remember?”

“Weird way to pronounce seduced,” Jesper mumbled.

“I’ve never heard of EON,” the sixth crow said, walking into the room and stopping behind Nina.

Sydney raised her hand, and Inej smiled as Kaz flipped his hand smoothly to invite her to speak. “Vic does that too,” she mused before asking, “What’s a Grisha?”

“Right.” Kaz forgot that their secluded corner of the world was just that, secluded. “Grisha are humans that practice the small science, manipulating matter in its simplest form. They are born with the ability, an inherited science that appears like magic.”

“Or powers,” Nina added.

“Like us,” Sydney saaid.

“What does that mean?” the sixth crow asked.

“That’s Matthias,” Nina introduced. “He asks too many questions, but we forgive him because he’s cute and he’s been through a lot.”

“Most of us use the second reason,” Wylan disclaimed.

“I’d like to know,” Kaz interjected. “You mean to say you have powers?”

“We’re called EOs, ExtraOrdinaries,” Victor explained. “We died and came back with powers and a missing part of ourselves. It’s an oversimplification, but we don’t have time to get into the medicolegal aspects.”

“And EON is hunting people like you?” Victor nodded, and Kaz continued, “So, you want me to find them so that you can kill them and save your kind?” Victor nodded again, and Kaz turned to Inej.

“What can you do?” Nina asked Sydney. “I’m a Heartrender, so I can change physical appearances and have extremely limited healing powers.”

Sydney nodded, impressed, and replied, “I can raise the dead.”

Nina’s eyes widened, and Matthias gripped one side of her waist tighter. Sydney didn’t understand their response, but they recovered quickly.

“I’ve used my powers to kill people and save myself from getting shot, but… I didn’t like it,” Nina admitted. “Be careful with that level of power.”

“I am,” Sydney assured her.

“I don’t work for free, Mr. Vale,” Kaz said.

“Excuse him,” Inej asked, looking at Kaz intensely. “I’m not sure he’s grasping the severity of the situation. If they’re hunting EOs, what do you think they’d do if news about Grisha got out?”

“Not my problem,” Kaz argued. Jesper interjected a loud, dramatic “Um?!” and Kaz amended, “Not my business now.”

“I can’t offer you anything,” Victor said. Kaz stood and turned toward his desk but froze when Victor added, “Nothing except a favor.”

“What is it exactly that you do?” Kaz asked with his back to Victor.

“I can control pain.”

“Our heartrender can do that.”

Nina shook her head at Sydney, who smiled behind Victor. Victor released the dial in his mind, allowing Kaz’s chronic pain to flood back into his leg.

“Perhaps,” Victor admitted. “But surely you can’t deny that the ability to cause and create pain, to maintain complete rule over a priceless system would aid you.”

Kaz looked at Inej, then glanced at Wylan. “Why did you phrase it like that? As if it can be used for bartering? Like currency?”

“Pain is one of the few things that people will give anything to avoid and trade anything to inflict.”

Kaz rubbed the heavy crow’s head atop his cane as he thought. Victor couldn’t offer any more incentive than that, and Kaz knew it.

“It would work,” Inej whispered. “You know what they’re like, Kaz.”

“If I help you find EON, I have no way of thinking you’d stay to repay the favor,” Kaz pointed out.

“Then do your job first,” Sydney suggested with a shrug.

“That puts us in the same position, Syd,” Mitch said softly.

“There’s nine of us,” Inej said, “let’s split up.”

“We need as many hands as we can get,” Kaz and Victor argued together.

“I can give you my word,” Victor offered. “And the fact that I’m wanted by EON. If I try to run, you could send them after me.”

“Your partners have nothing to say about this?” Kaz asked, tilting his head to look at Sydney.

“I trust him,” she answered. “He’ll help you if he says he will.”

“He does the right thing,” Mitch added. “Even if his means are almost always illegal or at the very least immoral.”

“He’ll fit right in,” Matthias grumbled.

“So, do we have a deal?” Victor asks.

“The deal’s the deal,” Kaz said. Victor offered his hand to shake, and Kaz raised his brows. “Don’t you want to know what it is I want in return?”

“I’ll do anything.”

“If you have any questions, now is the time to ask,” Inej warned. “Before you shake that blood-soaked hand.”

“What do you want to do?” Jesper asked. At Kaz’s tired and irritated look, he raised his hands and defended, “You didn’t say the questions had to come from them.”

Kaz pushed himself up, leaning against his cane, and in a voice that rivaled Victor for its simultaneous mellifluent and serious sound, said, “We’re going to find EON, and then we are taking down the rest of the merchant council.”

He offered his hand, and when Victor’s hand met his glove, sending pain relief through his joints, they vowed, “The deal’s the deal.”

[cherryeol04]

Action! | Ch. 24

Genre: Humor, Romance, Slice of life?, Crackheadedness

Pairings: BaekRen, MinRon

Work Count: 2.7K

Summary:  From the moment he was casted, Ren wasn't sure if he had what it would take to be a pop idol. Losing faith in himself, he was going to give up the future he had always wanted, but one person stood by his side and renewed his faith. After a hot debut and rapid growth of stardom, Ren started to notice that maybe this person, his close friend, was something more. But how could a straight man even remotely think of a homosexual relationship?

Warnings: Homophobia, some smut (chapters will be marked)

A/N: I wrote this series back in 2012 and used OCs and over the top writing style for arguments. Whoops. Lmao it’s pretty decent though, so I hope you enjoy!

↶Previous     Next↷

Ren’s POV

I know I’m being a burden on these people, and I hate it. My hyungs are so nice though, accepting me into their dorm, feeding me. I never meant to be gone for so long, but I just can’t go back. Baekho would be there and he’s probably so happy with Uee noona. Which I’m happy for him, I just wish he didn’t have to rub it in my face like he had.

That’s what hurt the most.

Days turned into weeks and every day I got a call either from Minhyun, JR, or Aron, all begging me to come back. But never from Baekho. The piercing pain I felt at the end of each day as I laid down to sleep, knowing that once again, the call was never going to come, I honestly thought I would die each and every time. I sleep horribly, I feel horrible, and I must look horrible. I suppose that’s why the other’s forced me up, dressed and literally dragged me from the home.  Why couldn’t I just stay and mope around some more?

Adrian-hyung was no fun.

~*~

Staring up at the large planetarium, I was in awe. I never knew one even existed, yet alone resided in South Korea. This was going to be interesting to say the least. It was certainly something I haven’t gone to before. Looking back, I stared at the others who were sharing my same awe.

“It’s bigger than I thought.” Kai said and laughed softly.

“Everything’s bigger than you think.” Chiko muttered with a pout. “Just like our last dinner you ordered fed all of us and the staff.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault!” he protested with a shake of his head.

“Alright children.” Adrian spoke, wrangling in his dongsaes. “Let’s go.” Walking into the building, we were greeted by such eerie silence that panic grew inside me. I looked around carefully, even over my shoulders. It was something straight out of a horror film. I liked horror and all that, but not when I had to be a part of it.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, noticing just how empty it was inside.

“I have no clue.” Adrian said and frowned. “In fact, all I got this morning was this letter telling us to be here. It was signed ‘A Friend’.” He explained and pulled the letter from his pocket. JaeMin took the letter and read it over briefly before sighing.

“It’s probably like some sort of hidden camera variety show.”  JaeMin said.

“Then why am I here?” I asked as I stared at them.  They all looked at me as if they just realized I was there. I don’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Probably bad considering the fact that they just realized I wasn’t even a part of their group, yet I was brought anyway and no one even mentioned that I shouldn’t go in.

“Uh….” They were all at a loss for words. I don’t blame them, I felt the same way.

“Hey look.” We turned and watched as Kouji moved over to a welcome table a picked up an envelope titled ‘For Ren’. “I think this really isn’t for us.” He said.

“Apparently.” Adrian said as he walked over, took the envelope and opened it. Pulling out the thick card, he read it over. “For all the pain he caused, for all the days you’ve been a way, there will be many more to make up for them.” He read. “Within this building, there are three special locations you need to visit. Each will give you a clue to where you need to go next until you’ve reached your final destination. Your first clue ‘He has to be from another planet.’ Mission start!” he read before snorting.

“Oh boy, they need new writers.” Kai said with a smirk.

“So this is all…for me?” I asked, confused. Why would they do this? From the sounds of the letter, it seems that my friends are trying to cheer me up and get me to go back home. But I don’t want to. Not if Baekho is going to be there and continues to act like he does. A part of me is actually hoping though, that this is Baekho’s way of asking for forgiveness; that this whole thing was orchestrated by him. But I don’t want to get my hopes up. I doubt it is.

“Looks like it.” Adrian said and smiled. It was a knowing smile and I had to wonder if he had a hand in all this.

“Oh a quest! Sounds like fun! Let us help?” Chiko asked.

“No, we can’t help.” Adrian said. “This is for Ren, let him do it.” He said and nodded.

“Aw poo.” Chiko pouted cutely and we laughed. He was a maknae for a reason after all.

I sighed. Alright, looks like I’m on my own for this. No worries though, I’ve done many variety shows like this. I can solve this and figure out what’s going on too. “Okay, the first clue is ‘He has to be from another planet’. Who would be from another planet?” I asked myself. There was JR, but he wasn’t crazy. There was Aron, but he wasn’t that crazy. It certainly isn’t Baekho and if this was done by him, he wouldn’t be the first clue, so then…Minhyun? Realization slowly came to me. Minhyun was a bit out there, even when he was trying to be straight and narrow. He was silly really. So it’s Minhyun I’m looking for but how do I find him?

‘Okay Ren think. Whenever we tease Minhyun we say he’s an alien. And I know we’ve even said which planet he was from, so which planet? Which planet was it?’ Even though there wasn’t a time limit, I felt extreme pressure. We always joked about Minhyun being from the planet...?

‘Jupiter! That’s right, it’s the largest planet in our solar system, next to the sun of course. Because Minhyun is so tall, we tease him he came from the largest planet in the solar system because they made their aliens tall there.’ Alright, alright, so now I knew where to go. I looked around the lobby for a moment before finding the blaring map kiosk. Making my way over, I searched for any room or floor that had anything to do with Jupiter.

“Let’s see.” I said, running my fingers through the different rooms and after a while I finally found it. “Third floor!” I announced happily. Alright! I did it!

“Good then go.” Adrian said and shooed me off towards the elevators. With a grin I stepped in and pressed the ‘3’ button and the doors slid shut. I was nervous and excited at the time. I loved playing games, but what awaited me at the end is what was nerve-racking.

When the doors opened, I stepped out and looked around. Images were hung all through the small hall, all of the planet Jupiter. Most included facts and information about it. Turning to my right, I started down, looking for Minhyun. The other was my clue, the person I was supposed to find, and with him being so damn tall, it shouldn’t be too hard to find him.

The hall opened up into this large room and right in the middle of it stood a large statue of the planet Jupiter and standing in front of it was a smiling Minhyun. I walked over to him, grinning and he pounced, wrapping me up in his arms, squeezing me.

“Minki!” he said happily and I was sure I heard tears in his voice. “I’ve missed you so much.” He said. When he let go of me, we pulled back and I stared at him. My heart broke seeing my best friend crying like that. I hated knowing I was the one who was making him cry like that.

“Minnie.” I said and hugged him again, rubbing his back. “I’ve missed you too.” I told him and pulled back. “After this is done, maybe we can hang out?” I asked.

“Of course!” Minhyun said happily. “We have so much to catch up on!” he told me before handing me the card. “Have fun alright? I’ll see you at the end!” he said.

I nodded and watched him walk off before sighing. It was so good to see my friend once again. I hadn’t meant to cause them so much pain by leaving. Maybe soon things could go back to slightly normal and I could return home.

Looking at the card, I turned it over and read the back. “He speaks alien better than our language.” I laughed at that simple clue. It was easy to know who it was referring to. Aron still had trouble speaking our language, even after being here for so many years. And I knew he was from the planet Mars because Mars was the ‘real’ planet that had aliens speaking weird tongues coming from.  Finding the map on the floor, I searched until I found which floor Mars was on.

Getting back on the elevator, I headed up to the fourth floor. One would think this building would be ordered according to positions of the planets in the solar system, but apparently it wasn’t. When the doors opened, I stepped out and was greeted instantly by Aron, who drew me into a bear hug. I laughed and returned it, glad to see the other.

“Damn Minki.” He whispered as he pulled back and looked me over. “Still sexy as ever, don’t change.” He said. I blushed hotly at his comment and smacked him lightly.

“Stop it!” I said and smiled at him.

“Never.” He said before handing over the card. “I hope you come home soon, it’s not the same without you. We’re not the same without you.” He said.

“Maybe…one day soon.” I said, a little unsure.  He nodded and hugged me once more before turning and walking off to go join Minhyun, wherever he was. Sighing, I flipped the card over and read the next clue.  “When he’s at his best, his passion shines brightly like this star.” I frowned. Well it was either JR or Baekho and though I was hoping I would see Baekho next, I was pretty sure it wasn’t him. In fact, I was almost sure he wasn’t a part of this. He had Uee noona, why would he need to be here? Even if it was his entire fault.

So then it was JR and it was the sun that was the brightest star in the solar system, the one that burned the most. So after finding the map and locating the Sun room, I headed up to the ninth floor. When the doors opened, I wasn’t ambushed like last time. Instead, I actually had to wander around a bit. It wasn’t a large room like Jupiter.  Everything known about the sun was very little. I was going to give up, not sure if I would ever find JR. After walking around the corner of the hall into a smaller room, I found him standing next to the window.

“JR.” I called as I walked over to him. He turned to me and a grin spread across his face. He waited until I was close enough before hugging me.

“Minki. I’ve missed you.” He said. I almost cried at that. All my friends had missed me and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think I was honestly that important to them. But I was and that made me feel so loved inside. So maybe I didn’t need Baekho. Sure, having the other love me would have been wonderful, but I had friends that loved me just the same, that should be enough for me. And well…it was going to be enough for me. After this, I am going home!

“I missed you too.” I said and smiled at him as I pulled back. “Can I have the card please?” I asked.

“Sure.” He said and handed it to me. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he held tight and stared into my eyes. “Minki, Nu’est is not the same without you. We can’t go on. Please…come back. We need you more than you’ll never know.” He said. It was the leader talking, trying to keep all his members together, but at the same time I knew it was my friend talking, wanting us to be back together and whole once more.

“I know.” I said and nodded. “Very soon…I’ll be back home.” I told him. He nodded and released the card, and with a pat on my shoulder, left me alone too. Smiling to myself, I flipped the card and read it, my breath leaving me.

“He didn’t know what he had until it ran away. He didn’t know what he needed until it was told to him. Now he needs his Minki back and in his life. Under the planet signifying love, you’ll find him.” I had to take a few breaths. Baekho…was he really here? Did he really need me? I wasn’t sure, and I knew I should have been more cautious. I had been hurt once, I didn’t need it again. But damn it if I couldn’t help it. After finding the map to find out what floor Venus was on, I bypassed the elevator and took the stairs.

Taking them two by two, I ran up to the eleventh floor, which thankfully wasn’t that far up from the sun. Slamming opening the door, I looked around frantically, searching. I ran through the whole hall and room, but I didn’t see him. Baekho wasn’t there. My heart broke once more and I felt like crying and I almost did.

All this, for nothing.

I was heading for the elevator when I heard soft music coming from a closed door. It was a room I hadn’t checked before.

Maybe?

Moving to the door, I pushed it open and stepped in. Romantic music was playing and hearts lit up all around the walls of different colors. And in the middle of the room hung the planet Venus and underneath it was…

“Baekho.” I whispered.

“Minki.” He said and smiled at me. “I’ve missed you.” He said. My heart was suddenly healed and bursting with joy. I’ve never felt this happy in my life, not even when I was picked to become a trainee. I ran to him and threw my arms around him. I was a bit worried he would be caught off guard and we would go tumbling down, but we didn’t. He caught me and held me tight in his arms, his face pressing against my neck.

“I’m so sorry Minki.” He whispered. “I was such a dumb idiot. I should have realized sooner just how important you are to me.” The tears fell from my eyes this time. I couldn’t hold them back. I was just so damn happy.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” I knew I shouldn’t have forgiven him so easily, but I couldn’t stop myself. Here was, in front of me, holding me again. He had planned this whole thing, just for me. How could I not forgive him? He pulled back and stared down at me, grinning.

“I’m glad you do. I was a fool and I’m sorry.” He apologized once more. “Minki, I love you.” The squeal left me before I could contain myself. Those words were ones I have longed to hear for so long now. And he said them. Baekho finally said them!

“You fool!” I said and tapped the side of his head lightly. “I love you too.” The arms tightened around me, pulling me closer. Soft lips pressed against mine. This was our first kiss and it was magical! I stood there, clinging to him, pressing to him, returning his kiss with such passion, never wanting it to end. And though I heard the cheers of the others who were watching us, I could have cared less. The world faded away from around us and all that was left was Baekho and I and the kiss we were sharing.

This is how it should have been all along. And though I wished this would have happened months ago, I was glad it happened now. I knew our future was bright. I was coming home and going to be Baekho’s boyfriend.

Nu’est was back!

[alilaro]

yall know I can’t stand harry potter, and that jkrowling is a massive piece of shit, but im trans so fuck it i just might quickly post my bullshit hp volturi AU

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter here! You can also send me an ask to be added to/removed from the taglist.

permanent taglist; @pervhotch @spenxerslut @donald4spiderman @measure-in-pain @thatonezesty13 (check your visibility settings!) @jswessie187 @kuolonsyoja @idonotexiste

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (6)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 6.7k warnings: PTSD, flashbacks/panic attack, a hint into our girl’s past, the sweetest fluff, another book rec 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“So, you really melted ice man's heart, huh?”  

You pouted, throwing Sam a warning glare as you turned back to the stack of books on the cart.  

It had only been a few days since the night on the park bench and you had seen Bucky nearly every evening since. Most of the time you’d find him waiting by the chairs at the entrance to the library for you to get off shift, hair tucked under a baseball cap and hand brushing down at the thigh of his jeans, like maybe he was nervous enough to find the evidence in his palms. He’d brighten up as you spotted him, a lightness coming over his features. You’d lead him down the residential side streets, through canopied trees and flowerbeds along the sidewalk, to spend a few hours at Luciana’s sipping decaf and nibbling through pastries.  

The crowds didn’t bother him as much lately it seemed, or maybe he was getting used to the hustle of rush hour after spending so much time avoiding it. Part of you wondered whether your hand slipping into his and the constant pressure of a slight squeeze had anything to do with it. You wondered if it grounded him like an anchor when his body was eager to float off into space.

He was so impossibly sweet with you; hesitant, like Mrs. Jefferson had said the first day he wandered into the library, but still, there was a lingering charm in it. It sat in the way he looked at you, like he was trying to memorize the lines on your faces, in the way he listened to your long rambles on the latest book you were assigning him, how he had no interest in cutting you off, like maybe he could have listened to you talk for an eternity if you’d let him.  

Bucky Barnes was a little rough on his edges, with some fraying seams and broken pieces, but he was still whole – still complete and wonderful and beautiful. He was soft in his undertones, glimpses of a subtle charm and confidence slipping through the cracks in the small moments when he let his guard down. You didn’t know the Bucky before the war that Sam and Steve spoke so fondly of, but you knew the man he was now and well, this Bucky was everything.  

“He seems like he’s doing better,” Sam said, a little softer this time as he leaned his back to the book shelf. His arms folded over his chest, a smile resembling a sort of pride pushing up at his cheeks. “Took me months to convince him to leave the apartment long enough to check out the VA and you’ve got him down here visiting you almost every day. He’s walking through rush hour just to see you, Y/n. That’s huge for him! Hell, his face might break from how much he’s been smiling lately...”

You laughed, hushing Sam as an elderly woman shot a pointed stare in his direction. Sam held his arms up in defense.  

“He seems happy, Y/n,” Sam finished as you set another book onto the shelf. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I get you’re implying that it’s my doing,” you said unconvinced, “but he’s stronger than you give him credit for, Sam. He would have come around on his own. He just needed time. All of you did when you got back. Clearly some more than others. But Bucky... he suffered an immeasurable loss over there. Imagine what that must be like for him to have to readjust to his own body. Of course, he needed time.”

Sam was still smiling at you, nodding along, like maybe you were only proving his point. You believed so strongly in Bucky that it didn’t even cross your mind that maybe it was because of you that he’d started to find himself again. You hadn’t known Bucky when he was holed up in his apartment, shielding himself from the light and drowning in his own anguish. It broke your heart to imagine him sitting alone in a dark, messy apartment, staring at the walls and wishing he were someone else.  

You couldn’t imagine him like that because the man you knew was sweet beyond measure and he made your stomach twist into knots from a simple look across the room. It didn’t seem possible that the light could be drained from the blue of his eyes.  

“I’m not trying to fix him, Sam,” you mumbled under your breath, keeping your eyes trained on the task at hand. “He doesn’t need fixing. I just... I like him and... I like spending time with him. If that means he’s doing better, if he’s starting to look more like the guy you knew, then... that’s good.”

Sam paused, pursing his lips as he studied your face for the subtle reflexes upon your features. You weren’t sure what he was looking for or maybe it was that he was debating whether to argue with you further on the subject, but eventually he resided to concede, letting out a heavy exhale.  

“Just... thank you,” Sam said, relief etched into his voice. “It’s nice having my friend back.”

You looked up at him, a little stunned. “Sam, I haven’t done anything. We haven’t even...um... We aren’t...”

He smiled at you, something genuine, something softer than the cheesy grins you were used to from him. It was a glimpse into who Sam was behind the jokes and the comedic breaks in tension; a man who cared so deeply for the people in his life that he’d cross mountains to see them smile again. He’d come to your aid without so much as a second thought when you’d needed him most, when your world was thrown completely upside down, and here he was again, putting everything he had into making his friend feel whole again.  

Sam put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve done more than you realize.”

You stared at him for a moment, a little lost for words. Could just a few extra days spent wandering around the library, sitting across a café table nursing coffee and scones, and curling up on a park bench have that kind of impact? If you let yourself stop to realize how much brighter your days felt when Bucky was in them, maybe you’d understand what Sam meant.  

“Besides,” Sam shrugged as his smile drifted, “it’s nice to see you happy again, too. Moving on.”

You swallowed and it tasted of bile. The book nearly slipped from your hand.  

Sam chewed on the edge of his lip, a hand swiping over the top of his head. “I know it’s been a few years since we lost—”

“Please— don’t,” you choked out. 

Sam bowed his head, nodding, and you could already feel the swell in your throat. You exhaled a tense breath that struggled to push past your lungs and forced yourself to continue restocking the books, concentrating on the alphabetizing and weathered feel of the covers.

“It’s still hard for me to talk about him, too,” Sam admitted, leaning against the shelf. He shoved his hands into his pockets, a frown pushing on his lips that felt so incredibly unnatural to the man you knew. “But the pain of it doesn’t hurt as much when we have reasons to get up in the morning. Reasons to smile, still. Good things to look forward to.”

You nodded, willing yourself not to cry. It had been so long since you let yourself drift into the memory of the man you’d lost, the name behind the membership card of the loved ones left behind to war heavy in your pocket.  

“All I’m saying is Bucky’s good for you too, kid,” Sam smiled softly nudging you in the shoulder and tickling your sides until a laugh escaped. You clamped a hand down over your mouth as the two of you earned another pointed stare from the elderly woman lurking in the romance section. Sam raised his hands in defense.  

You wiped at your eyes, cheeks burning from grinning. “I could have told you that, you know.”  

“Speak of the devil.” Sam nodded over to the top of the staircase where a man emerged, holding onto the banister; a mop of long brown hair swayed down into his face, a dark green army jacket hung over his shoulders with a sleeve draped down at his left side untouched.

Whatever remained of the lump burning in your throat dissipated, the weight in your pocket feeling a little lighter. A smile grew so wide on your checks you’d nearly forgotten the frown that had ached in the very same muscles just moments earlier.  

“Bucky! What are you doing here?” you laughed as he approached, a little surprised to see him. You nearly wrapped your arms around him before you stopped yourself. You’d only gone as far to hold his hand and you weren’t even sure he’d be comfortable with it given Sam was standing directly on your left.

“Hey,” he replied nervously, pushing a hand through his hair. It looked noticeably softer, a bit of a shine to it, and you wondered if he’d started to care for it again. It was the first time you’d seen him without the baseball cap on. He exchanged a look with Sam before turning back to you. “You said that it got pretty slow on Thursdays and I just wanted to offer you some company but... seems like that’s already covered.”

“Sam can leave!”

Sam pouted dramatically at you as Bucky started to laugh under his breath. It wrinkled up into his eyes and you saw for a moment what Sam had meant; a brightness had returned to the shimmering shades of the open blue skies in his eyes in favor of the muted and darkened ocean waves you’d seen that first day in the VA.

“That hurts, you know,” Sam whined, hand clutching at the fabric on his chest as if he could reach inside and touch his own heart. “We were friends long before this one wandered on scene.”

“Bye Sam,” you sang, waving him off with a nudging on his back. Hands pressed into his shoulder blades, Sam dug his heels into the multicolored carpet under his feet to keep you from pushing him along. You started to laugh loud enough for the woman who scolded Sam earlier to turn in your direction with a scowl upon her face.  

“Alright, alright,” Sam groaned. He stood up straight, brushing you off. “Have fun, kids. Buck, I’ll see you Thursday for the game, right?”

Bucky nodded; hand tucked into his pocket. “Steve’s on nacho duty and we both know he’ll bring enough for twenty people, so you better.”

Sam grinned, pumping his fist in the air. “Exactly what I want to hear.”

“Weren’t you leaving...?” you teased, arms folded over your chest. Sam stuck out his tongue at you and quickly disappeared down the steps. You could hear the rhythmic bounce of his footsteps all the way to the bottom floor. You turned back to Bucky. “So, Thursday night football, huh?”

“Steve started it,” Bucky chuckled, a nervous hand raking through his hair. “They’ve been trying to rope me into game nights since baseball season started. Never had the interest before, I guess.”

That was what Sam was talking about; the small changes in his friend, little pieces of hope embedded into each day, small allowances of motivation and joy. He was finding it again.  

“And now?” you inquired and Bucky shrugged.  

“Sounds like it could be nice. Haven’t watched a game with them like that since before—” He swallowed, eyes darting down. It took a minute, a short breath in and a tense exhale before he cleared his throat and pushed out a smile. “Anyway, how are you? I didn't mean to interrupt if you were hanging out with Wilson, honest.”

“Oh, don’t worry about Sam. He likes the attention too much.” You laughed, stepping a little closer.  

Glancing down at his hand as he held it down by his side – not tucked into his pocket, not curled up in a fist – and you dared to reach for it. You felt the slight twinge of surprise as he jolted under the touch, but relaxed almost instantly as you intertwined your fingers.  

“I’m better now that you’re here,” you said simply, running your free hand soothingly along his arm. It wasn’t unfamiliar contact but it was still new. You could tell it still felt like the first time for him any time you touched him, like he was trying to retrain his body on how to accept touch like this; something gentle and affectionate. You put as much compassion and warmth into each embrace as you could, hoping it might help alleviate some of that anxiety.  

He smiled at you, squeezing your hand in return. “Was kinda hoping you’d say that.”

“Yeah?”  

He nodded, a smile growing on his face as he watched your right hand slide along his arm, running over the bumps in his jacket and feeling for the muscle underneath. If it bothered him, he gave no indication. Instead, he squeezed your hand again, readjusting his fingers, rubbing his thumb sweetly along the back of your hand.  

“Come on,” you nodded, gesturing to the book shelf behind you. “I’ve got more books to put away and I could use some of that company you promised.”

***

Three hours later and Bucky was sitting on one of the beanbags in the Children’s Corner, reading the latest book on a seemingly never-ending list you’d assigned for him: The Silver Linings Playbook by Mathew Quick – the story of a man determined to find the good in the bad as he navigates an evenly matched chaotic love interest, the approval of a strict, suburban Philadelphian family, and an undying loyalty to Eagles’ football.

After Bucky had helped place a few of the novels on the tallest shelves, you insisted you weren’t intent to put him to work and pushed him onto the beanbag chair. Most of the time he pretended to read while he watched you weave around the aisles. Always bright when patrons approached and sneaking a few lines of narrative from each book as you placed it on the shelf, as if you could capture a glimpse of each story and hold it for later.  

You were never more than a few aisles away and he caught you peering over at him every so often, just checking to make sure he was still there. He winked at you as you caught his eye and a laugh would escape passed your lips despite your effort to hide it before you disappeared back to your task.  

He was nearly halfway through the book, using the same clip you’d given him the first day of book club, when he heard the small voice of a child clear their throat.  

A girl, no older than eight, stood behind you as you stocked one of the children’s shelves. She tapped on your spine and backed up a few paces, holding her hands tightly in front of her.

Bucky couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but you knelt down to her level – the same as you’d done for the boy in the café – and nodded intently to what she was saying. Then, after scratching at your head, scrunching up your face in thought, you brought the girl over to a different aisle and pulled out a book for her.  

She glanced over the cover for only a few seconds before she tugged the book tight to her chest and squealed. She thanked you quickly with an enthusiastic wave before she rushed off to a couple standing by the elevator. She wrapped her arms around her father’s legs, excitedly showing her mother the book you’d selected for her.  

But Bucky couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. You stood from your place in the aisle as you watched the interaction between the girl and her parents; how the father patted her on the head and ruffled up her hair, much to the child’s infectious delight, how the mother picked up the book and raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Your hands were crossed over your heart, a smile brimming bright on your face. Bucky couldn’t imagine how anyone had come to be as genuine and warm as you were; filled with an unending compassion for others beyond anything he’d ever seen before and a love in the simplicity of kindness. When you looked back over at him, he could hardly catch his breath.  

“Hey,” you called sweetly, skipping up to him. The sleeves of a golden yellow sweater hung past your fingertips and you curled the excess fabric into your palms.  “My shift’s over in a few minutes.”

Bucky blinked a few times, pulling himself from his stare before he glanced over at the clocking hanging high above the books. “Wow. That went fast.”

You nodded, swaying on your heels.  

“Luciana’s?” you asked as you bit down on your lip, that nervous kind of look about you like you might actually believe he’d ever turn down more time with you.  

Bucky exhaled a breath of relief, closing the book in his lap. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Come on,” you grinned, extending your hand to him.  

You took the book first, placing it into the small bag draped over your shoulder, and slipped your hand into his. Bucky let you tug him up to his feet, though he didn’t need the help despite the sinking feeling of the bean bag chair numbing his legs. He liked the feeling of your hand wrapped tightly in his own and he liked it even more so when you didn’t let go.  

“Heading out, dear?” Mrs. Jefferson called by the front desk as you passed by. She ran her eyes over Bucky, that signature smirk present upon her lips, though you didn’t seem to notice. She winked at him and he felt the tips of his ears burn red.  

“Yes, ma’am! I’ll see you tomorrow,” you replied, waving her off as you pulled Bucky to the doors.  

It was warmer outside than he was expecting, with children running down the sidewalk and tourists in matching t-shirts chasing on their heels. They carried pinwheels in their hands and bags of popcorn as if they’d been by a carnival – which seemed odd in the middle of Brooklyn. Another family across the street pushed a small child in a stroller with paint on her face in the shape of rainbows and a bag of cotton candy curled up tight in her hand.  

Bucky narrowed his eyes, confused.  

“I love this time of year,” you sighed, leaning your head to his shoulder as you walked. “Look at the sky. It’s beautiful.”

The sun was beginning its decent beyond the horizon, the dark cast of a night sky peering over the light blues as they faded into reds and oranges and a distant glimpse of purple. The stars had begun to peak through the clouds.

“Forgot how dark it can get,” Bucky said as you guided him back to the residential streets.  

You shrugged. “Earlier sunset though. Makes for a nicer walk after my shift.”

Bucky smiled at that. You always managed to find the silver lings in every cloud, no matter how dark or grey or filled with rain – you found the good. He wondered for a moment, if you could manage to do the same in him, too.  

“It was nice of you to come by today,” you said. You nudged his hip as you adjusted your hold on his hand with a gentle squeeze. When he looked down at you, you were smiling at him.

“Just like spending time with you.” Bucky shrugged, trying to play it off casually, though his heart was racing. You nodded slowly, the smile growing even wider on your face, though you didn’t say anything.  

The sidewalks were empty on this part of the walk and while a silence had taken over between you, it was comfortable, like the wrap of a warm blanket. Your hand still tucked into his, a gentle squeeze now and then to remind him you were there, a soft humming under your breath. There was a sense of peace in it, a safety he hadn’t known in a very long time.  

The quiet had been his enemy for so long. He’d done everything he could to avoid it; favoring instead the white noise of a broken satellite channel, the clanging of the radiator he’d never fixed, the static of an empty radio station. The quiet allowed too many memories to come through, memories he would have rather left behind when he boarded that plane for the last time. The quiet mocked him and pushed him so far inside himself, he was underwater.  

But now—now there was a kindness in it. The quiet granted him the moments to listen for the gentle rise of your breaths and the hum in your voice. It allowed him a chance to focus on the click of your boots to the sidewalk and the way you said his name like he was something to behold. The silence gave him you.  

And it was ripped away in an instant.

He felt the vibration of it, felt the rumble in his chest and the skip in his heart, before he ever heard the thunderous echo of the explosion.  

No time to react, Bucky shoved you to the ground, throwing his body on top of yours, his arm casting up to shield your face. He couldn’t feel the heat of the fire, but he knew it must be close.  

“Bucky!” you called, frantic, but your voice sounded too far away. His ears were ringing, his heart pounding so loudly he wondered if it could jump straight out from his chest, if it would spill broken and bloody onto your sweater below.  

You called his name again, trying to grab his attention, but it was muffled, like you were calling to him from beneath an ocean.  

He dared a glance back over his shoulder, searching for enemy soldiers, IEDs, tanks, trunks, anything, but he was only met with empty streets, autumn-colored leaves, and brick buildings when he was sure all he would find was dirt and desert.  

Something was wrong.

“Bucky, you’re alright. You’re safe. Focus on my voice,” you called to him again and he felt the touch of something cold on his face. Your hands. Cupping at his cheeks, your thumbs brushing gently over the rush of heat on his skin. He stared down at you, breathing heavy, but you were steady, calm. “Bucky, breathe for me. Come on.”

You took in a deep breath, urging him to follow.  

But no—he didn’t have time. He had to get you to safety. He had to get you out of the line of fire before—

Another explosion.

He flinched as it erupted, wrapping himself tighter around you, caging you down against the sidewalk in an effort to take the brunt of debris though he felt nothing on his back. You groaned underneath him, a slight pain in your voice.

“Bucky, honey.” Your voice was miles away. He could only hear the last remaining remnants of an echo at the end of a tunnel. Your hands pressed against his face again, urging him to look at you. Your eyes were wide as you searched his, full of concern and maybe even sadness, but no fear. Why was there no fear?

“Look up for me,” you told him gently, gesturing to the sky. “You’re safe, Bucky. It’s only fireworks. Look.”

Bucky kept his focus on you. His vision was blurry, a painful ringing piercing in his ears. When you looked up at the sky, tenderly tilting his head to follow, he saw the trail of illuminated sparks against the backdrop of the setting sun as it raced into the sky.  

Then – the explosion.

He still recoiled at the sound as it erupted into his chest, but he kept his eyes focused on the stream of red and gold as it fluttered against the backdrop of deep navies and the peppered brush strokes of fading purples along the horizon, the smoke disappearing in ghosted shadows against the clouds. His lips parted in shock, his breaths coming in a little quicker.  

“No, I... I thought... I was so sure it...” He couldn’t finish a sentence, his mind racing faster than he could speak. He shook his head, staring up at the outlines of the firework long after it faded, the wind carrying it away. It felt so real.  

“Let’s get out of the street, okay?” you soothed, drawing your fingers down his cheeks, smiling encouragingly at him. He nodded, feeling a bit out of it, like maybe he was in some sort of trance.

But then, it happened again.

The firework exploded high into the air and Bucky pressed his face to the crook of your neck, drawing you in as close as he could manage. He was shaking as you ran your hand along his spine.

“It’s okay, honey. I’ve got you.” Your voice was the only thing keeping him from disappearing inside himself entirely. He focused on the imprint of your hand on his back, the feel of your fingertips as you traced the lines on his face. He concentrated on the heat in your breath as it touched his cheeks and the pressed of your body under his.  

“I live close by,” you told him, gesturing to a street off the corner. “Let’s go now, alright? Before the next one goes off.”

Bucky nodded quickly, too lost within his own head to feel the rush of embarrassment seeping into his features. His felt nauseous, his arm shaking, his legs weak and numb as he slowly backed off of you.  

As you began to stand, he noticed the tiny rocks embedded into your clothing when they fell down to the sidewalk, bouncing against the concrete by your feet. There were scrapes on your elbows and a tear in your sweater.

“Come on,” you called to him, extending your hand, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the patch of red on your skin.  

But then he spotted another stream of light flying high into the sky and he reached for your hand, gripping it tight before the firework went off. Even prepared, it made him stumble on his feet as it echoed down into the empty streets.  

“Focus on this, alright? Focus on what you can feel,” you said, squeezing his hand tight in your own. You picked up the pace as you guided him a few blocks away from Luciana’s, further into the residential streets.

If Bucky had been in his right state of mind, he would have thought it was rather pretty; the way the sunset cast a stunning illuminated glow onto the faded brick and the pots of flowers hanging from the windowsills. The fireworks lighting up the darkest parts of the sky in effervescent colors.  

You were beautiful as you tugged him along – hair a little misplaced, leaves trapped in the fabric of your sweater, cautious looks back in his direction as you pulled him by his hand. So beautiful, it kept his focus as another firework went off and he felt the hardened pressure of your grip.

“Go on inside,” you instructed, and Bucky realized he was standing at the door to an apartment – your apartment. He didn’t even realize he’d walked up a flight of stairs and crossed inside a building.  

You were staring at him when he looked at you again and it was only then he saw an ounce of fear in your eyes. You squeezed his hand. “Come on now, honey. Please?”

Bucky swallowed, nodding as he stepped inside. He tried to look around, wanted to know the sort of things you kept around your apartment; if it was littered in as many books as you carried in your bag or if it had the warm tones of the colors you wore in your clothing decorated around your living room. He wanted to look at old pictures on the wall and the stand of DVDs you held onto, even without a workable DVD player, as they piled by the television. He wanted to know so much more about you.

Even in the distance, through the walls and the locked windows, he heard the firework erupt into the sky, the flash of it echoing into your apartment and lighting up the living room, and his whole body winced.  

“Couch,” you told him, quickly kicking your shoes to the mat and shrugging off your jacket. You grabbed a book from your bag and tossed it onto the coffee table. When Bucky didn’t so much as move, you took careful steps closer to him and stilled.

“Do you know where you are?” you asked cautiously, almost instinctively, like maybe you’d done that before.  

Bucky swallowed, though it tasted of bile. He nodded.

You bent down to untie his boots. He stepped out when you asked him to, the slight chill of your fingertips against his ankles as you removed the shoes. Then, you grabbed his hand and led him to the couch.

You laid down with your back pressed against the arm rest, one leg draped down along the back cushions, the other hung over the side. You gestured for him to follow, patting at the space of the couch between your legs.  

“I...” Bucky started, finding the words lost on his tongue. He knew it would help. The pressure, the feel of you to ground him back to reality, to keep his mind from the memories swarming back to the surface, but all he could feel was the emptiness on his left, the shame of a missing piece and he couldn’t stand for you to feel it, too.

“Bucky, please,” you urged. “Let me help you.”

The echo of another firework broke into the sky, the light illuminating your apartment, and despite Bucky’s best efforts, his body flinched.  

He clenched his jaw, desperately trying to keep himself in the present moment, to focus on you and the distant scent of a pine candle on the coffee table, but all he could see was a rush of wind, sand in his eyes from the storm, the laughter of a kid far too young to be carrying a weapon of that size, the low hum of a jeep, a reflection over a hillside, someone screaming, his throat raw and burning and—and—and—

“Bucky? Are you—”

He crawled down onto the couch, sinking you into the cushions and resting the full of his body weight against you. He set his head against your chest; his ear pressed to your heartbeat so he could hear the steady thumping inside, the rise and fall of each breath. His right arm snaked up around your shoulder blades, tucking his hand against you like he was cradling a pillow.  

You were incredibly still for a moment, stunned that he gave in, but then he felt you relax under him. A hum nestled in your chest as you slid a hand along his spine, drawing lines and circles to ease the tension in his muscles. The other swept against his hair, pushing it from his eyes, raking into his scalp.  

You laid there with him like that for a moment, soothing your hands along the tension in his body and humming soft melodies under your breath to distract him from the fireworks as they lit up the night sky. He still flinched, but he recovered quicker, focusing on the steady beat of your heart under his ear and the movement of your hands on his spine.  

He felt something warm touch other the crown of his head, a shaken breath brushing over his hair. Then, the book from the coffee table made its way into your right hand, the clip you’d given him on the first day of book club, affixed to the last page he’d read in the library that day. Resting the binding on his shoulder, you began to read.  

“’When I read the actual story- how Gatsby loves Daisy so much but can't ever be with her no matter how hard he tries- I feel like ripping the book in half and calling up Fitzgerald and telling him his book is all wrong, even though I know Fitzgerald is probably deceased,’” you started, a soft smile evident in your voice. “’Especially when Gatsby is shot dead in his swimming pool the first time he goes for a swim all summer, Daisy doesn't even go to his funeral, Nick and Jordan part ways, and Daisy ends up sticking with racist Tom, whose need for sex basically murders an innocent woman, you can tell Fitzgerald never took the time to look up at clouds during sunset, because there's no silver lining at the end of that book, let me tell you.’”

Bucky sighed, sinking further into your embrace. He didn’t even notice as the final firework took its bow amongst the stars or the burst of applause in the distance, too focused on the gentle vibrations in your voice, the smell of an old book as you flipped through the pages, stealing glances up at your face as you smiled with every word.  

When you finished the chapter, you closed the book and set it gently upon the table. Your hands returned to his hair, carding through it and drawing a hum from his lips.

“You alright?”

Bucky nodded, feeling a little dizzy. He certainly felt alright enough for the numbness to wash away and a steady stream of shame and humiliation to rush in and take its place. Slowly, he lifted himself from your embrace, crawling back against the couch and sitting on the edge of the cushions. You followed him, scooting up against his side.

“I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders sank. “Bucky, please, don’t apologize for—”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff, Y/n,” Bucky sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. Bile was etching its way up his throat. He’d never felt so helpless, so small, so vulnerable as if he were no more than a child. He was dead weight on your shoulders. He couldn’t put that on you, he couldn’t let you carry the burden he’d become.  

“What if I want to?”  

He dropped his hand, looking over at you to find you watching him with that same desperation he’d felt to keep you safe when he’d heard IEDs exploding in downtown Brooklyn just moments before. You reached out for his hand, putting it gently into your lap when you were met without resistance and began to trace over the lines in his palm.  

“What if all I want to do is be with you? What if it’s all I can think about?” you continued, a low ache in your voice he didn’t expect. You lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles and drawing a shuttering breath from his lungs. “I’d hold you for an eternity if that was what you needed.”

Bucky stared at you in stunned silence. He was a mess, barely stable and breaking apart at the seams and... and here you were, willing to stitch him together with needle and string. You saw a mosaic when all he could see were broken pieces. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.  

Instead, your hand made its way to his cheek, cupping at the side of his face. Your eyes softened, flickering down to his lips, the touch of your fingertips grazing over his jawline and along his neck like maybe you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat.  

Could you feel his fears, too? The ones that warned him that you wouldn’t like the broken, disfigured fragments he’d become? Could you tell that he was sitting on the edge of a waterfall with the rush of water under his legs, just waiting to be pushed off the ledge? Did you know it was your hand on his shoulder pulling him back to the shore?

He leaned in closer, testing his courage, until his nose brushed against yours. So impossibly close, the heat of your breath warm against his skin. You stayed there for a moment, waiting, foreheads pressed together, until Bucky dared to close the space between.  

Chaste and honest. Slow and aching. He kissed you and the first touch left him breathless, shaken as he drew in an inhale. You pulled him closer, hands wrapped tenderly on the sides of his face and he could feel your lips curve up into a smile as he turned toward you, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you closer.

God, he’d never wished more for his left arm to find its way back to his body than he did in that moment. He just wanted to feel you in every way he could, to wrap himself around you in his entirety, to hold you the way a woman should be held.  

You pulled back suddenly, laughing under your breath, and he realized your phone was buzzing on the table. You didn’t move for a second, just staring at him, trying to contain your laughter, and he found himself smiling so wide, it reached his eyes. His cheeks ached a little, too.  

He realized it the moment you reached out and wiped your thumb over his lips, how you handled him with such intricacy and care, how you touched him like he was made of worth, how you looked at him like he was something to adore – he was in love with you.  

You lunged for your phone, still smiling as you brought it to your ear. “Hey Nat, I’m kinda busy right— Oh.” Your face fell. “Are you alright?”  

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his hand setting on your knee to give it a slight squeeze.  

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you said into the phone, pressing your lips into an apologetic line. “I’ll be right there.”

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked as you hung up the phone. You nodded, reaching back out for him and your hand found its way to the side of his face. You held it there, thumb brushing along his cheekbone fondly before you leaned in and pressed slow, brief kiss against his lips – something so casual, so intimate, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. He wished you’d do it a thousand more.  

“I’m so sorry, but... I have to go,” you sighed, a frown pushing down at the corners of your mouth. “Please believe that I’d stay if it was anyone other than Natasha... Something happened at her job and I—”

“No apologies, right?” Bucky eased, resolving your guilt before you even had a chance to allow it to rise to full display. “You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” You weren’t convinced, but he could tell from the hope in your eyes that you wanted it to be true.  

“Yes,” Bucky replied sincerely. With the fireworks long faded into the night sky and the gentle chirp of crickets beyond your window, the only remaining cause of his racing heartbeat belonged to the woman sitting beside him, the casual touch of your hand against his face. He turned to kiss at the inside of your palm before he lowered your hand into your lap.  

“You could stay here, if you want,” you offered nervously, glancing out to the window half wondering if a new set of fireworks would begin to light against the pitch black of the sky.  

Bucky shook his head, though he smiled for you. “I should head home anyway. I’ve got a book to finish.”  

He reached for The Silver Linings Playbook and held it up in his hand. He had a hard time letting his own smile fall with the way you were looking at him and he tucked the book against his chest as if it could feel his heartbeat. He wondered if you picked this particular book for him in hopes he might start seeing silver linings the way Pat did along the pages of the novel— how you seemed to, as well.  

If anything, you might be his very own silver lining.  

“Come on,” Bucky said, standing from the couch and extending a hand to you. “I’ll walk you there.”

You bit on the edge of your smile in an effort to contain it. It did no use and for that, Bucky was thankful.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 7 - After Midnight [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s an extra chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Missions require stealth.

Series Masterlist

For a spy, working at unusual hours was nothing new. During your training at the academy they would wake you up at ungodly hours to drag you to exercise just so that you would get used to being ready to fight anytime.

So technically you weren’t supposed to be this tired, but you hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. To your surprise, at around 5 in the morning you were assigned to a new mission to capture and bring another member of HYDRA in. It was unexpected because your superiors had told you earlier that earning Bucky’s trust and getting information from him was the priority, and they hadn’t sent you after any target for days up until this morning. You weren’t exactly complaining anyway, other missions weren’t your priority.

Even if you kept telling yourself what you were doing was just business, somehow talking to him didn’t feel like it.

“God damn it,” you muttered to yourself when the sight of your reflection in the elevator mirror caught your eye, making you heave a sigh and push the button to your apartment. Your shirt was stained with so much blood that you could hardly see the white and you licked your thumb before trying to scrub off the dried blood on your cheekbone. The elevator made a small noise before the door opened and you stepped outside, dragging your weary self to your door.

“What’s up neighbor?”

You jumped out of your skin and turned to Keith who was watching you with a grin on his face, holding a cup of coffee.

“What the fuck?”

“Likewise. Why are you covered in blood, you normal civilian you?”

You opened your door and stepped inside with him following you suit.

“Mission.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Young lady, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t kill the Winter Soldier.”

“What? No!” you made a face, “I could never- it was another kind of a mission.”

“You already have a mission, didn’t you tell them you’re supposed to focus on that one?”

“The target was heavily protected and it needed my expertise.”

“Nobody likes a brag.”

You rolled your eyes, “Keith, General literally told me that before sending me there.”

“You’re not supposed to get close to targets anymore,” he reminded you and you shifted your weight from one foot to other, biting inside your cheek.

“It got out of control,” you murmured, making him sigh.

“Y/N.”

“It’s not like I wanted to!” you defended yourself, “It was just necessary, that’s all.”

“If you get in close combat with a target you might end up with visible injuries, and that would compromise your cover as a civilian and tip Barnes off.”

“I know, I know…” you murmured as you walked to the sink to wash your hands, then switched the coffee maker on.  

“Do you?” he insisted, “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re looking for trouble.”

You grabbed a cup from the shelf and turned to him.

“I just wanted to get it over with,” you said, “Okay? I have other things in mind.”

He pulled his brows together, “Like what?”

“Like…” you waved your hands, trying to find the words, “Like other stuff. Like my main mission— by the way I couldn’t ask the other night, why did they locate you here?”

“General said your relationship with Barnes is progressing well. It’s better to have another agent close by, just in case he decides to make a late night visit.”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you and you raised your brows, “I feel like I’m working in a dark alternate version of a matchmaking system where they hook you up with a date you can’t trust.”

“So every dating app out there?” he asked, making you laugh as you sipped your coffee.

“Speaking of dates,” you started, but was cut off your phone beeped and you checked the time, then cursed under your breath.

“What?”

“I can’t believe I’m working at a stupid milkshake shop,” you grumbled, “I need to take a shower and get to work, see yourself out.”

“You know, you could bring some milkshake home,” he said as you walked to the bathroom, “That’s what a good neighbor would do.”

“Goodbye Keith!” you called out and closed the bathroom door.

                                    ***

You really, really needed something to snap you out of this sleeplessness. Preferably coffee, preferably in an I.V. or something because you had a feeling drinking it wouldn’t be enough at this point.

“Thank you and bon appetite!” you smiled brightly at the customer after serving them their milkshake, then dropped the smile and pulled the small apron off your uniform.

“I’m going to take a break and get some coffee,” you told your coworker “You want anything?”

“No thank you,” she said and you fixed your hair before walking outside to make your way to the coffee shop.

Keith had a point. It was stupid to get in close combat with a target, especially now. General had sent you there with clear orders of you keeping your distance and using your sniper rifle, not your dagger and in the heat of the moment, you had decided to go after him when you couldn’t get a clear shot.

“Hi, can I get a hot red eye please?” you asked the barista, “Actually no- make it a black eye, largest cup you have.”

She smiled slightly, “Long night?”

“You have no idea.”

She swiped your card before giving it to you and you walked to the waiting counter to lean against it, nibbling on your lip.

You really, really wanted to believe that your sour mood was a result of you not getting enough sleep, but deep down you knew it wasn’t like you to take unnecessary risks.

It was the fact that you had been too distracted to take the shot at the right time because you were looking down at your phone when the target had walked out of his building.

But after all, it was your main mission, wasn’t it? You had to make sure to get Bucky’s attention to get closer to him. Maybe two missions at the same time had these kind of disadvantages, but it wasn’t as if you could walk there and tell them not to give you side missions.

If you wanted to be a handler, you had to prove yourself.

You took the lid off the cup, the scent of hot liquid filling your nostrils and you grabbed the sugar packets before tearing the top off to pour sugar into it. You dipped the thin stir stick into the beverage to stir it, then put the stick between your lips but as soon as you turned around and saw who had just gotten his coffee, you held your breath.

“Hi!” you said breathlessly, pulling the thin stick off your mouth, “Um- Captain—Captain America sir.”

“Oh God no, please call me Sam.” He offered you his hand and you shook it.

“Hi Sam.”

“It’s Y/N, right?”

“Yes!” you said, “Yes, it’s wonderful to see you again. Under much better conditions where I haven’t been shot at.”  

“Bucky just went to that uh….” He paused, “Milkshake shop right? He just went there to see you.”

You scrunched up your nose, “Oh no, I literally just went on my break.”

“That’s alright,” he said, “He’ll be back here. Would you like to sit down?”

Nope.

Nope, you did not want to sit down.

You had planned a whole strategy to pull the wool over Bucky’s eyes, but Sam’s file told you that he was an excellent judge of character, much better at reading people than Bucky. Everything that you had told Bucky to manipulate him had worked so far but persuading Sam wouldn’t be that easy.

Seeing that any small sign could tip him off, you had to put even more of an effort into the illusion.  

“I’d love to!” you said and followed him to the nearest table. You sat down and pushed your hair behind you ear, smiling up at him.

“I never got to say thank you,” you said, “For saving me back there.”

“Don’t mention it, really,” he said, “How’s your arm?”

“It got better,” you said, “I thought I was dying but as it turns out, it was just a graze. Only thing that’s hurting right now is my ego.”

“Oh it happens.”

“Even you have to admit, that was a bad first impression.”

He grinned, “For what exactly?”

“For—um… for a first—first impression. In general,” you stammered and sipped your coffee while he sat back.

“So how do you find New York?” he asked, “Bucky mentioned you just moved here.”

“It’s been a month, yes,” you said, clearing your throat, “I like it so far. I mean, aside from getting mugged, I enjoy it. It’s very different than where I grew up in but like— it’s very new.”

“Yeah, especially if you’re from a small town…” he mused, “Where did you say you moved from by the way?”

“Cannon Beach, Oregon.”

“I love small towns,” he said, “Very peaceful.”

“They are!” you said, “I mean sometimes a little too peaceful with nothing to do but…”

“You know, visiting Oregon has been in my list for a while now,” he said, “Any advice on where to go if I end up visiting there?”

Oh he is good.

If you weren’t a trained spy, you wouldn’t have even noticed that he was trying to see whether you could be trusted or not. Bucky, being secretive himself hadn’t even asked anything about your so called hometown but Sam knew exactly what to ask to see if you were hiding something.

You thanked Chloe for making you read everything about your file the other day in your mind before you pursed your lips, deep in thought.

“Well my hometown doesn’t have much to offer but— do you like hiking?”

“Sure, why not?”

“We have a state park,” you said, “I think you’d enjoy it. Natural view, all green and peaceful. Back in high school, every semester break my friends dragged me there and the there was this one time we were all there, I got stung by this huge wasp and it was just before the school dance and I ended up not getting asked out by my crush—anyway, it’s a long way of saying I don’t hike anymore.”

That made him chuckle and he seemed to be convinced that you were sincere, thankfully.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as his eyes went over your shoulder, making you look up and gasp.

Jesus, as it turned out you weren’t the only one with a mission who required you to get in close combat.

“Oh my God.” You covered your mouth with your hands, staring up at his bruised face half hidden by his hat. Sam pushed his chair back, clearing his throat.

“I should probably step outside,” he said as he stood up, “Gotta make a call, I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks man.”

“What happened?” you asked as Sam walked out of the coffee shop and Bucky sat down across from you to the seat Sam had just left. He tried to offer you a small smile.

“It’s nothing.”

“Bucky it doesn’t look like nothing…” you mumbled, your brows pulled together “Does it hurt?”

What?

“Does it hurt?”

You weren’t supposed to ask that, you were supposed to gather info on where he went and what he was doing on missions of his own.

“Not at all,” he assured you and you took a shaky breath.

“What happened?”

“There’s this thing me and Sam are working on,” he said, “Don’t worry about it. I went to the milkshake shop to see you but…”

You wanted to ask for more details but something told you it could create a problem to insist this early so you decided against it.

“Just tell me you’re safe?”

A soft light crossed his eyes, “I am,” he said, “I promise.”

You paused for a moment before you pushed your hair behind your ear. “I gather you’re kind of used to getting hurt then?”

“A little,” he admitted, “That’s why I couldn’t call you or anything. I got caught up in something.”  

Ah. He wasn’t giving you any details even if he thought you were a civilian.

He could like you, but he still couldn’t trust you. Maybe it was a precaution, maybe he wanted to keep you away from his mess, but either way, it was very clear that he had trust issues.

You took a mental note to put it on your report for General and shook your head.

“Of course,” you said, “You don’t need to explain anything, I’m just glad that you’re well and safe. Bruises aside.”

“Looks that bad huh?”

“No!” you said quickly, “No I wouldn’t say bad. Not by a long shot, you’re still pret—uh…dashing. Cute as a bug’s ear I’d say. Looking—looking aces. Dynamite even!”

He pulled his brows together, keeping his eyes on you.

“I may or may not have checked some early to mid 20th century slang just in case,” you admitted, making him tilt his head in confusion.

“Just in case of what?”

“Just in case you said something and I didn’t understand on the second date,” you said, “And let me tell you something, you guys spoke a completely different language back then.”

“You’re joking,” he said with a small smile and you crossed your arms.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Say one more term and I will.”

You thought for a moment, “Fine. Are you ready for this?”

“Absolutely, bring it on.”

“I will….” You trailed off, searching your mind for the right words you had checked online the other night, “I will snap my cap if you spook me showing up looking like you were about the buy the farm last night.”

A clear laugh escaped from his lips as it lit up his whole face and that was when you realized how rare it was to hear him laugh out loud. A warmth filled your stomach and you raised your brows, your nose in the air.

“See? Told you,” you pointed out and stole a look at him, “Was it—was it good?”

“It was great,” he said when he could pull himself together, “Absolutely perfect.”

“Why thank you,” you sipped your coffee as he cleared his throat.

“Speaking of the second date…” he said, making you bite down a smile, “Any chance you’re free tonight?”

“I am,” you said, “But you’re not.”

He pulled his brows together, “Hm?”

“Have you seen yourself?” you insisted, “You look like you—you almost died or something!”

“It wasn’t a big deal, really.”

“Well, those bruises say otherwise,” you said, “You need some rest. How much sleep did you get last night?”

He averted his eyes and waved a hand, “Some. Enough.”

“Bucky,” you said, leaning in slightly, “How much?”

Everything the government and your division had gathered on Bucky suggested the same thing; The Winter Soldier was basically created for war. He was the perfect soldier, and there was no way anyone could get any information from him. There was a reason why they had sent you into this mission, trying to get intel from him by force was absolutely impossible.

Even the government knew that.

But the same unstoppable soldier who would probably die before saying anything to the enemy caved in when you batted your lashes.

“Two hours.”

Your jaw dropped and you shook your head, “Nuh uh.”

“It’s enough, it’s more than—“

“Nope,” you cut him off, “You’re going to rest at home and—eat soup and watch garbage TV, mister. No dates for you on two hours of sleep.”

A soft smile pulled at his lips, “I can function with two hours of sleep darling.”

Your heart did not skip a beat at that, it was just you being very focused on your own cover and that was it.

“Well I don’t want you to just function,” you mumbled, “You need to take care of yourself too.”

Judging by his expression you could see that he wasn’t used to hearing that and you put your coffee on the table, then reached out to gently put your hand over his vibranium one. His hand twitched like a gun recoiling in your hand, even if you knew it was involuntary and a look of disbelief crossed his features, as if he hadn’t expected you –or anyone to touch that, as if he was afraid that you would be scared.

But of course, that was the spy in you speaking. Your cover wasn’t supposed to notice anything of the sort.

“How about…” you trailed off, “We have a date tomorrow? You go and get some rest tonight, and I’ll pick what I’m gonna wear for tomorrow and spam my friends with outfit ideas.”

“You sure?”

“Of course,” you said, “We have all the time in the world for dates. And I happen to live here, you know? It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

He smiled and turned his hand to entwine his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Good,” he rasped out, “I like the sound of that.”

                                         ***

You should’ve known your superiors wouldn’t make it easy for you. This time, you were allowed to take your team with you because as it turned out, the right hand of the target you had brought in last night had gotten away, so now you had to take him down for your superiors to cut a deal with the target.

The first part of the mission had gone splendidly. He was alone and in hiding, so setting your gear up on the rooftop and pulling the trigger hadn’t been difficult whatsoever. You watched as a couple of agents burst through his door so that they could retrieve his body and fixed your ski mask before starting to dissemble your rifle to carry it easier.

“Anyone wants to grab some dinner?” Keith’s voice reached your earpiece and you yawned.

“Nah,” you said, “I’m going to go home and sleep for a year or something.”

“Deleting the security cam footage of the building right now,” Chloe let you know, “And I want dinner, I’ve been running on multiple cups of coffee.”

“You got it.”

“Are you buying?” one of the agents in your team asked, “If you are, we’re coming too.”

“Yeah man, I’m buying. Tacos?”

“Sounds good, just let me check—“ Chloe started but then gasped, “Shrike, get out of there right now!”

It was almost instinctual. You grabbed the small pistol out of your boots and turned around to point it at the person behind you but as soon as you recognized who he was, your heart started pacing.

Bucky had decided not to rest at home after all.

“Hi soldier,” you managed to say, “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Chapter 8

[journeytogallifrey]

I'd love to know more about Everything That’s Meant. Celebrity & Actor AUs are one of my favourite tropes.

You picked that one because you knew it was my favorite, didn’t you? ;) First Good Omens AU I ever started planning - it has a 63-slide PowerPoint and almost 40k words written so far!

Aziraphale Fell is a classically trained actor known for powerful biopics, hindered by the insistence of his brother (Gabriel, head of Celestial Studios) that he stay in the closet. Anthony J. Crowley is known for playing flashy villains and wonders if a hero role will ever be in the cards for him. They’re cast in a series adaptation of Agnes Nutter’s Prophecies, Aziraphale as the angel Raphael and Crowley as the demon Asmodeus, but something feels off... until they realize one late-night rehearsal that it works better if they switch roles! (yes, it’s a roleswap AU within an actor AU lol) Now all they’re up against is a haunted set full of nefarious occurrences, not to mention their own growing feelings for each other, which exhilarate Crowley but terrify Aziraphale as the two become closer and closer.

Fun facts and excerpts under the cut...

Fun facts:

Past Aziraphale roles: SO much Shakespeare, historical/period dramas, Oscar-bait biopics, a heart-wrenching drama called House of Water, mentorly roles in YA genre films, children’s character Dr. Zed Imagination

Past Crowley roles: countless franchise villains with his trademark CGI eyes (Star Trek, Doctor Who, Tron, Avengers), the killer in the Hallows’ Eve films, a recurring villain role on a superhero show called Absolute Powers, some horror cult classics, a few charismatic Disney villains, voice work (the dragon in Goldbreakers, the car in Ride by Dusk)

They meet at a BAFTA afterparty after Aziraphale has given his statuette away

Crowley has trauma-induced photosensitivity from a fall at university. He got the snake tattoo to cover a scar on his temple. He does the makeup cover of it for roles by himself unless the makeup department prefers otherwise.

Aziraphale’s influential family started the angel-name tradition. His mother’s vengeful ex Luke started the demon-name tradition. Now it’s all over the industry, all the way to Hollywood.

Crowley is genderfluid. The tabloids keep spotting ‘mysterious women’ leaving his flat and speculating about why. They’re never right.

Some articles about them...

Excerpt One:

Crowley and Aziraphale shared a look.

“Eminently helpful,” said Aziraphale drily.

Crowley laughed. “No kidding. Why don’t we have a crack at the refreshments table before they take it all down?”

Aziraphale had been eying it all night, and of course Crowley had noticed. “Oh, yes, please,” said Aziraphale, rubbing his hands together and following Crowley over.

Crowley had not been prepared for the sight of Aziraphale eating a chocolate-covered strawberry. It was almost sinful, the red of it against those pink lips, the way Aziraphale closed his eyes as he took it in. It really was a shame no one ever cast him as the sexy lead. He could have pulled it off in a heartbeat.

Crowley had to think of something to say before it drove him mad.

“I loved you in Ordinary Saints,” he said finally, and then mentally kicked himself – sure, be a fanboy, that’s what he wants to hear.

But Aziraphale simply responded with a pleased smile. “Oh, really? I didn’t know you were familiar.”

“Cry every time I see it. Only tragedy I’ll watch, mind – usually I prefer the funny ones.”

“It wasn’t a tragedy. The couple lived happily ever after.”

“Yeah, but you died!” Crowley could feel his hands growing animated but couldn’t stop them. “After everything you did for them! Beautiful death, by the way, but really.”

Aziraphale’s smile grew wider, amusement dancing over his face. “No one’s ever quite defended me that way before.”

Excerpt Two:

“Is it all right that I call you angel?”

Clearly, Aziraphale had not been expecting that. He processed the question for a long moment, then shifted closer to Crowley in the dark. Of course there was still nearly half a sofa between them, but Crowley felt the movement tingling in his bones. “You know, I think it is,” said Aziraphale, hushed, like a secret.

“I don’t want to remind you of – of all that if you don’t…”

“But you see, it doesn’t make me think of that at all.” Aziraphale’s blue gaze turned to the ceiling, contemplative. “It only makes me think of Prophecies. And – and of you. And – you’ll think me silly for this…”

“Not at all,” said Crowley immediately.

“Well. It makes me think that, perhaps…” Aziraphale returned his gaze to Crowley. He had a habit of roaming it over the rest of Crowley’s face – lips, cheekbones, forehead. He seemed to take in Crowley’s expressions, despite the sunglasses, in a way few people ever had. And Crowley was good at communicating around the glasses. But Aziraphale picked up on nuances even beyond his wildest dreams.

Right now, though, Crowley didn’t want to force Aziraphale to do that. For the first time he truly thought about how off-putting it must be, staring back at your own reflection. He lifted the glasses up onto his head and met Aziraphale with his true eyes.

This earned him an intake of breath and a slow, wide smile.

“It makes you think…” Crowley prompted.

“It – right.” Aziraphale seemed to shake himself a bit and return to the moment. His face was wistful and a little awed as he looked back at Crowley, nothing but air between them. “When you call me… angel. That I might be… finally living up to what Mother wanted me to be.”

Crowley couldn’t help the tears that sprang to his eyes. He glanced away at the carpet, blinking them into submission.

So yeah, that’s the actor AU! Hoping to get it out in the next couple of months, but we’ll see. I appreciate anyone who read this far <3

[saurexhas]

Love is Blind - Part 4

Time for couple drama! Nightmare doesn’t want anything to hurt his precious little moon, but how does said moon feel about the special treatment?

PS: Make sure you go to the end to find a special surprise that I’ll be doing for this series!

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

Adjusting to blindness is never something you thought that you’d have to do, but it was the unfortunate reality you found yourself in. There certainly wasn’t a manual to it either, but you were managing thanks to everyone’s help. There were several days first spent on bedrest while you recovered from the initial incident, and it gave you a chance to come to terms with your fate and what your actions had brought. You still didn’t regret them though, because your sight was truly a small price to pay for Nightmare’s life.

That didn’t mean that the adjustment period was easy, and you probably would’ve succumbed to despair more than once if Nightmare hadn’t been by your bedside almost the entire time. Your bedroom was quickly turned into his temporary office, allowing him to continue his work and further his plans while offering you the reassuring touch of a tentacle that always lingered on your arm as proof of his presence.

When your partner was finally comfortable with the idea of you leaving your bed, it was… well, difficult would be putting it mildly. You never once realized just how much you relied on sight for almost everything. It took a day and a bit of you simply wandering around your room to not bump into everything, and even longer to actually be able to navigate by touch. Thankfully, nobody in the castle really cared about your appearance, so you weren’t judged by what clothes you were able to find and put on by yourself.

Your room was about the only place where you could safely be allowed to wander on your own at first. The castle was a confusing labyrinth of pathways and corridors that were already difficult to navigate. Attempts to explore the castle in the past had led to you almost getting lost in some abandoned part of the castle, so there was no way you were even going to try such now. But even the areas that were once familiar to you were now alien as you relied on sound and touch to guide you instead of the sense you so heavily relied on.

For the first while, Nightmare personally escorted you on any walks outside of your room. This was mostly to and from meals, a time where you could practically feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you. Your seat had also been moved towards the head of the table, just to the right of Nightmare. The dark god claimed that it was so that he could assist you should you need help with your meals. Killer was quick to point out how any of them could help you though, teasing that the real reason was simply to stick next to you like “an overprotective boyfriend”. According to Cross, the look on Nightmare’s face had been one of pure murder… even if everyone at the table knew that the idiot was right.

One thing that Killer also nailed was how protective your boyfriend suddenly was. Gone were the days of you having free reign over the castle. Instead, in the instances where he couldn’t personally escort you, one of the others was chosen to be your guide instead. Even as you grew more comfortable heading to the areas you often frequented, the rule didn’t let up. He’d also put a stop to any training or sparring plans you might’ve had, insisting that it was too dangerous to continue when you couldn’t see an attack coming.

While you understood that he did it out of love, that didn’t change how frustrating it was. You already couldn’t read, play cards, or even really cook, the last of the three likely being on the dark god’s ban list had there not been enough obvious difficulty to deter you. Sparring with the guys, while rough, was one of the only hobbies you had left, and you trusted that none of them would seriously hurt you. But Nightmare refused to listen to any arguments you put forward, and none of the others would entertain the idea for fear of their lord’s wrath.

So on top of learning to navigate a world of utter darkness, adapting daily chores to your new limitations, and being treated like you were fragile, you were utterly bored. And as days turned to weeks, your frustrations grew. You were used to everyone simply treating you as one of the crew, albeit one that Nightmare favoured. When you first arrived here, you had to fight for your right to remain and not be turned into dinner. The others had respected you for the most part, and if you wanted to engage in any of their usual antics, they didn’t hesitate to include you. Now though, everyone seemed intent on treating you as if you were some doll, one to be sat on a shelf and never touched. Everyone was suddenly afraid of hurting you, and you were no longer one of the crew. You were something else, above the others now that your relationship with the god of negativity had gotten out. Pyre had even stated that if Nightmare was their king, then that made you their ‘queen’ in a sense. Suddenly, you were set to be a ruler over the dark god’s future empire, and everyone’s views of you shifted because of it.

One choice, one that seemed so infallible before, had turned your whole life upside down. You expected to be injured in place of Nightmare, but not blinded. And while trying to deal with such a severe change of lifestyle, you were now being placed on a pedestal and nobody would treat you the same. Part of you wanted to take your frustrations out on the nearby wall, but that would likely only bring someone running to tend to your hand as if it were broken. No, you needed to go to the source of the problem.

While navigating the halls by yourself was more difficult than you could’ve ever guessed, it was made easier by your forethought to create a mental map through touch whenever you were being escorted about. The subtle change in the sound of your footfall let you know when you’d left the solid foundation of the hall your bedroom was on in favour of the landing for the grand staircase. Following the railing with your hand, you found where the hallway changed directions. To go downstairs would take you to the common room and the kitchens, while upstairs led to the library and Nightmare’s office. With your goal upstairs, you carefully shuffled along the steps, shoving your foot forward until it came in contact with the next. When your feet slid freely along the floor and the railing straightened out, you knew that you’d made it to the third floor where you’d find your partner.

After a bit of difficulty gathering your bearings and navigating the third floor of the castle, you came to Nightmare’s office. The door was open only a crack, enough to give others the hint to leave him be while allowing him to hear if any chaos should erupt from the lower levels. Ever so slowly, you pushed the door open, only to cringe as a painfully loud squeak of the hinges alerted your boyfriend to your presence. “MC? What are you doing up here? Whoever brought you here should know that I didn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“Oh, nobody brought me here, I came up here myself. Wasn’t that hard,” you shrugged, lying a bit at the ease of which you got here but determined to make the dark god see that you weren’t helpless. “We need to talk.”

A sigh emanated from Nightmare’s direction, and you could imagine how he was pinching the bridge of his nose as he often did when annoyed or frustrated with something. “First off, I thought I made it clear that you are to have someone escort you around the castle to minimize accidents. And secondly, can whatever conversation you want wait? I have plenty of-”

“No actually, it can’t,” you cut him off, mustering your confidence as you stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind you. “I need to talk to you now, not later.”

Being unable to read his body language was frustrating, leaving everything to your imagination with no way to know if you were interpreting things correctly. You knew that he didn’t like taking orders from anyone, not even you, leaving you to wonder if the silence was due to your demanding tone. Perhaps you should’ve worded things better, but before you could worry too much, Nightmare responded to your demanding request. “Very well, for you little moon, I will make time. Please, take a seat and share what’s on your mind.”

It took every ounce of focus you had to find one of the plush chairs on the other side of his desk, sinking down into it once you found it and being thankful that you didn’t have to fumble around too much. It wouldn’t do your argument for more independence any good if your actions showed a need for more support. “Alright…” You’d thought long and hard about how to get your point across to someone as stubborn as your partner, but now that you were here, it was almost a struggle to get your thoughts out cohesively. “I… I’m tired of everyone treating me differently ever since the incident, including you.”

“My dear, I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“Yes you have!” Forcing a breath through your nose, your efforts to calm your temper are marginally successful as your unintentional fists relax and grip the arms of the chair. “Everyone is treating me like I’m suddenly delicate, like I’m unable to take a punch or take care of myself. True, it’s been hard to adjust to being blind, but I’ll never get better at accepting things if you all keep coddling me!”

“No one is coddling you!” Nightmare growled in return, his voice growing more agitated as he tried to argue against you. “The others are simply doing their part to ensure that you can rest and heal in comfort!”

A growl built up in your throat as well as your partner continued to deny your claims, your fingers digging into the chair to keep them in place. “That comment brings up another thing. Ever since our relationship got out, everyone’s been treating me as if they’re serving me, like I’m something special that needs to be protected.”

“That’s because you are, little moon. You are my chosen partner, and you knew from the beginning that the title would carry some weight. I am a god my dear, and the ruler of any mortal within this castle. But you’re no longer some random mortal. Now you stand beside me, equal to me in power and authority. They have merely been instructed to show you the same respect and care that they show me.”

To hear it spelled out like that, like it should’ve been obvious to you from the beginning, left a lump in your throat. Was this always what would happen to you? Were you doomed to be lonely up at the top with nobody but the god of negativity himself to be your supposed equal? “I… I-I don’t want that…” Your words came out mumbled, eyes burning as your damaged tear ducts tried and failed to produce any tears. When prompted to speak up, you were practically screaming. “I don’t want that! I don’t want to be so… so alone! You might be fine with being above them, but for the longest time, they treated me as a friend! Now, it’s as if our friendships meant nothing, whenever I reach out all I get is coldness. I want to be able to joke and play around with Killer, I want Butcher to call me names and tease me! I want Pyre to rattle on about how great he is, or to spend time reading with Dust! I want to be able to go up to Cross, hug the stupid fluffy marshmallow, and not have him feel like a freaking statue!”

Your yelling left you short of breath, your chest heaving as you calmed down from your emotional tirade. For a while, your heavy breathing was the only sound echoing in the room, shoulders eventually shuddering as tearless sobs broke from your throat. Your own arms wrapped around yourself, as if trying to keep yourself from truly falling apart. What you weren’t quite expecting though was for a pair of cool, slimy arms to join them as Nightmare hugged you as well, the god having moved around the desk while you were distracted with your own emotional turmoil.

“I’m sorry little moon,” he started, one hand gently petting your hair while a tentacle took to stroking up and down your back in a soothing manner. “I grew so used to my underlings being just that, and I never considered what your views on the matter would be. Let me make this clear though, they treat you special because you are special. No other entity in the entirety of the multiverse has made me feel an emotion as positive as love since my childhood five hundred years ago. While many of the worlds out there fear me, and even those that serve me do well to avoid angering me, you had no such hesitation my dear. As we grew closer, you grew bolder. You would speak your mind freely, even if to criticize my actions or leadership. While it was downright infuriating at first, I grew to respect your courage and tenacity, but also the fact that you accepted me for who I am and not what I once was several lifetimes ago.”

As he spoke in such a calm and soothing voice, you felt your breathing settle as you snuggled into his chest. After he paused for a bit, Nightmare’s tentacles quickly scooped you up into the air, allowing him to settle in your chair and place you on his lap. The comforting gestures continued, serving to keep you calm without the use of his abilities. “You are special MC, never forget that. But also remember that you are my partner, and I will see you treated with the same respect as I receive, nothing less.”

You couldn’t help but tense at his words, about to go off again about how that flew in the face of your wishes. But before you could reiterate the entirety of your emotional rant from before, he shushed you with a gentle finger against your lips, and you could practically hear him smiling through his voice. “Your voice is as powerful in this castle as my own, and if things are not to your liking, then let your voice be heard. They are so used to hearing my voice that those idiots assume your voice will speak the same requests… even I made that poor assumption, and for that I am sorry. If you wish for them to treat you as they always have, then you need only tell them and I can promise you that you will receive what you ask for.”

“You… you mean it?” It seemed too good to be true, but Nightmare was often true to his word with you and the other residents of the castle. Still, it felt like it was too easy to simply ask for them to treat you as if you weren’t any different.

“Little moon, I swear it upon my name that you will be treated as you wish to be in this castle.” The dark god nuzzled you a bit as he made his promise, pulling a soft giggle from you despite the dry feeling in the back of your throat. It wasn’t often that you shouted so much, and you were definitely glad that you closed the door on your way in.

Deciding to push your luck a bit, another request found its way onto your tongue. “Then… if I asked you to stop forcing me to have an escort everywhere, would you respect my wishes?”

“MC, you know that I am just doing that to protect you-”

“Night, we’re in your domain, aren’t we? You know everyone who enters and leaves, making this castle literally the safest place for me. I’m getting better at navigating without my eyes, and I really think that I’d be fine!” When he still didn’t sound convinced, muttering about potential accidents that could happen, you merely threw more options at him. “Look, I’m far from the first blind human. If you’re that worried about me bumping into something or falling down the stairs, then get me a… blind person stick? Cane? Or a seeing-eye dog! One that Butcher would definitely not eat!”

“Is… this your way of asking for a dog?”

“Not my intention, but I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did actually get me one that can help me.” Reaching up, you cupped his cheek with your hand, thumb rubbing just under his good eye. “I’ll never have the same freedom as I did Night, but I know that I can learn to live with the consequences of my actions. And don’t you dare blame yourself for what I decided was a good idea in the spur of the moment.” Even now knowing the consequences of your choice, you’d still make the same call a hundred times over again, enduring the pain each time, if it meant that you didn’t have to see the one you loved suffer.

The god of negativity must have felt your conviction, because he didn’t try to talk you out of it or turn the blame around to be on himself. Instead, he merely sighed as one hand came to hold the one on his face, pulling it away to place a skeletal ‘kiss’ against your palm. “Very well, it seems that you’ve convinced me. I seem to have chosen quite the precocious human as my mate, you seem to be naturally born for commanding and convincing others. From now on, you are free to roam the castle by yourself, on two conditions. The first is that we give you a means of contacting me directly, should you find yourself lost or injured alone. The second is that you will still accept an escort for any trips outside of the castle, no matter your past familiarity with whatever world. Do we have a deal?”

Honestly, Nightmare’s requests were completely fair and reasonable. While you did have your phone, it was still extremely difficult to navigate it, and you likely wouldn’t be able to use it reliably in an emergency. If your boyfriend had an alternative method, then it would be good to have the freedom to go wherever, but with the safety net of knowing that someone will come if you need them to. And as embarrassing as an escort might be outside of the castle, it was still smart. It took you quite a bit of time and practice to navigate the castle on your own, despite your past familiarity with it, and a new space would require such with the aid of someone who could see. There was also the fact that, now that your relationship was public, it was only a matter of time before one of the idiots that you called your friends would let word get out. Then, you’d have a target on your back, a weak spot to be used against Nightmare. It was honestly for the best if you didn’t leave the castle alone anymore, not with several capable fighters that could protect you. “Those requests both seem quite reasonable to me, so I accept.”

“Good, I am glad that you can see I only want what is best for you, my dear. Keeping you safe is just as important to me as my goals.” After a moment more of cuddles, he eventually set you back into your chair alone, his footfalls indicating that he was going back to his own behind his desk. “I’ll see to the creation of a totem of sorts, one made of my own magic. It will allow you to contact me and call me to your side, no matter where you are. Between this, and my assurance that you will be treated as you wish to be, have I dealt with the issue you came to speak to me about?”

“Mhm, I honestly feel a lot better too, so thanks. I can’t see it, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to get done. I’ll leave you be so that you can get it finished.” When he didn’t try to stop you, you got up from your seat and wandered back towards the door. Just as you opened it though to step back outside, you turned back and sent him a wide smile. “Thank you for being so understanding and accepting Night, I really appreciate it.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled as the sound of pen scribbling on paper echoed through the otherwise quiet room. “You go enjoy yourself my dear, I shall speak with you again at dinner.” With his dismissal, you left the door in the same barely open position that you originally found it in before heading back to the stairs. It was about time for you to do what Nightmare told you to do and make your voice be heard. Then maybe your friends would go back to how they used to be and stop treating you differently.

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

Alright, so if you didn’t read my post earlier this week about getting you readers involved, you can read it here because I’m not repeating myself. (aka I’m lazy XD)

And since nobody commented on that post, it made it pretty clear to me that relying on Tumblr comments isn’t a good idea and that I should go with a poll website. So... here ya go!

https://strawpoll.com/634w9bq42

In the next part, Nightmare will be away running important errands, so MC will have to find some way to entertain themselves! Where they go is up to you, as are the result benefits from your choices. I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you all choose!

First | < Prev | Part 4 (Here) | Next >

[hyungieyoongi]

Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Fluff + Angst 

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

// Part 2

---

Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.

One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.

Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.

It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.

You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.

That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.  

You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.

When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.

You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.

Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N

The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.  

Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.

“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.  

“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.

“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.

“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.

“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.

“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.

“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”

After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.  

Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.

---

Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.

He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.

Let me go.

Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.

Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.

Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.

“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.

It was you. After all this time.

---

Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.

You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.  

You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.

Until he found you. And it burst.

You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.

“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”

Hide. You wanted to hide.

“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.

“Can we...can we not do this here?”

“Fine.”

“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.

Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.

As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.

// Part 2

---

Taglist: @loveyoongles​ @agustd-2020​ @delacyrose224​ @crispychanniee​ @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh

Want to be added to the tag list? Let me know!

Check out my other work! ❤️ 

[imhereforbvcky]

Watch Me Run - Part 16

Masterlist  -  Series Masterpage  -  Part 17

Summary: You inherit a family relic that gives you the gift of foresight but there are others who are interested for more nefarious reasons. You turn to the Avengers for help. (Bucky x reader)

Chapter: You and Bucky pass the time together while the other Avengers try to get more information about the purpose of Loki's unexpected return to Earth.

Word Count: 3663

“So why do I need to talk to Gandalf if they’ve got Loki in custody?” You asked, far too casually, eyes resolutely fixed on your hands. It was a system you had of avoiding difficult conversations: burying them amid distractions and jokes. Just now you were deciding what to discard and whether Bucky was good enough at math to be counting cards. He probably was. Handsome, clever bastard.

Bucky sighed out a surge of frustration. With the conversation or the cards, you’d never have to know and that was the beauty of your system.

“Tony said they’ve got him locked down but he’s… difficult. Deceptive with a history of escaping,” Bucky explained, trying to be honest and not frightening. Not his strong suit. “Not just from Avengers’ custody. From Asgard, too. Natasha’s had success interrogating him once before, though.”

“Of course,” you chuckled. “She’s terrifying. I’d tell her everything.”

“We’re waiting for Strange’s parcel and they’re trying to figure out Loki’s end game and a way to contain him. Maybe contact his brother, I don’t know.”

“Thor. Who he escaped from before,” you surmised. Bucky shrugged. “So will I ever be safe?”

“I know this is hard,” he looked down at your hands,, wanted to hold them,, pull you to his chest and whisper comfort against your skin. Instead he lowered his voice, a whisper like a blade on ice. “But I’ll keep you safe. You’re my mission.”

“Right. I know that,” you shook your head, wishing you could shake the disappointment of being relegated to a mission objective when you’d begun to feel drawn by something stronger. And thus your method of jokes and distraction resurfaced. “We’re safe until there is a gin rummy murder tonight, because I’m 86.2% sure you’re cheating over there, Barnes.”

Bucky watched you over the top of his cards, grey eyes as guarded as the steel hull of a warship. It took a long time and your unyielding grin to soften the walls. The man was Fort Knox, after all, and it had been a mistake to challenge him. Even to save your dignity.

He wasn’t a spy, he was an assassin, and a good one. His training had taught him to take in every advantage, every opportunity, to read people, and predict. Bucky had always been good at cards. The math came easy to him. But now that he was himself and the soldier? He rarely lost a hand.

The softest chuckle rose through him like a flutter of hummingbird wings. It accompanied his easy grin that steadily grew as you fiddled with your cards from across the table. “Don’t need to cheat,” he said while you kept chewing on the edge of your thumbnail before picking at one of the cards. It was a tell – your tell – and Bucky had picked up on it by the second hand. You hadn’t won a game since.

Your eyes kept flicking up to his. He found a smile there most days now, even amid all the danger. Even in the uncertainty he found something bright and warm with you. It licked a flame up his spine every time. Sometimes he let himself succumb to it, become drowsy and content in the warmth of your smiles. Other times he shook his head and looked at his feet, or in this case his cards, wondering how in the hell life had lead him here and if it would ever stop taking such strange turns.

“Would you discard, already?” he asked sounding irritated, but he was grinning widely, eyes dancing over your face.

 “Don’t rush me!” you scolded, finally drawing the same card you’d been fiddling with for the last two minutes.

He huffed, but somewhere along the way it had lost all its power. The sound, once again, rippled out of him like an airy chuckle and the grin grew wider.

He thought you must really be enjoying this because your motion to drop the card was excruciatingly slow. The ace taunted him now, one long drawn out invitation for trouble. As were you.

 Finally, he’d had enough and snatched the card from your fingers.

“Hey!” you yelped.

“Gin,” he replied with a smug little lift of his eyebrow.

He laid his cards on the table and then reached for the Twinkie beside the deck.

“Not fair! What if I changed my mind on that discard! You cheated!”

“Come on,” he laughed you off, leaning back into the couch and fighting with the plastic wrap on the golden yellow snack. “You were just being a pain in the ass. As usual. And you lost. As usual.”

“You’re not a very gracious winner.”

He shrugged, simultaneously darting an eyebrow before taking a monstrously large bite of the Twinkie. “’Least I’m a winner,” he mumbled through his mouthful, smiling wide as he chewed. His eyes danced over the grin on your face and the fire in your eyes. He loved all the shads of you. Cool morning tired, bright afternoon mischief, night ablaze, heated as a hearth.

“You know what?” You rose to your feet and lunged over Bucky and the arm of the couch in one sweeping push, all fire and wrath and joy. “Assholes don’t deserve Twinkies!”

His laughter came easily this time, unreserved and full while you flailed across him unflinching in your quest for the last bite of gas station garbage food. These were the times, Bucky knew, that he was in the most danger. When he forgot to worry and forgot the mask of soldier and Avenger, when everything seemed just a breath away from a happy ending. And therefore the most vulnerable. When he curled up to kindness and warmth.

But he couldn’t bring himself to fight it off. Somehow it had become second nature to wrap his arm over your back, to hook his fingers over your waist so you wouldn’t fall. Just as you hadn’t thought twice about leaping over and stealing from a notorious assassin, from your defender.

He hadn’t thought twice about this closeness, not until your clambering knee made a particularly harsh landing, sending him hunching forward, knees jerking up with a groan. Tangled in his arms, extended over the couch, and with his Twinkie in hand, you froze.

“Oh!! Sorry!” you cringed, “Are you okay?”

Bucky grimaced but laughed, as you released his arm and curled, sitting on your feet to wait for his answer with worried hands clapped over your mouth. In your concern, you hadn’t even noticed your legs were tangled half in his lap, leaning over, closer than you’d ever been, eyes dancing over his features, anxious for his answer.

You didn’t notice, but Bucky did.

“’M fine,” he breathed, tight as a bow, unceasingly aware of his arm still wrapped around you. The awareness was like an electric shock, like a livewire running straight across his body. His fingers twitched, momentarily, subconsciously tightening his grip on your waist. His toes danced quietly against the floor, taking all the energy of his racing heart while his brain shouted to keep the fuck still.

Everything was amplified. The warmth of your body, even through your t-shirt, felt like fire against his palm. The soft hush of denim sliding against denim, and the gulp that had Bucky’s throat tightening in anticipation blocked out all other sound.

“’Kay.” Your own voice was just as soft, just as breathless. Your hands fell from your face to his chest because, this close, there was nowhere else and nothing else but him. “That’s good.”

Bucky didn’t take his eyes off of yours, didn’t move a single muscle except to curl his arm between you and bring the last bite of Twinkie to his mouth. In a moment it was gone. He sat beneath your gaze, half glare half laughter, chewing, unblinking, still holding you, holding back both a laugh and the urge to kiss you.

“Jerk.”

Bucky did laugh then. He wondered if that word, jerk, would ever sound like an insult to him. His eyes were wide when you leaned forward, he could barely think enough to move when your lips met his. His heart thundered against his ribs when you pulled back slightly, looking, waiting for a reaction, for a sign that he wanted this as much as you did.

A fraction of a second was all it took. His arm, lazily curled around your back, turned to a fierce grip the second before he surged forward, taking a second kiss.

He moved with a slow, savoring sort of urgency. Like he was afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he let go, like you might slip through his fingers.

You were gentle in return, all ease and warmth, sinking your whole body against his, taking comfort from the sure and solid unyielding strength of his body, his presence and attention.

Your open palms slid over his muscled chest, fingertips dancing up the sides of his neck, skin prickling against the light scruff of his jaw. He was all texture: rough edges and sharp lines, with something burning hot at the center that ignited a path right to the core of you.

When he pulled away, breath still tickling across your lips, you chuckled at the sweet smell of vanilla frosting. You’d never been in so much danger, and yet you never wanted to move.

“You sure you’ve got enough hands in there?” Tony asked. Orange safety glasses tipped down on his nose to meet Steve’s eye. Dancing brown met clear blue for only a moment. Distraction and urgency drove Tony back to the hum of the welding iron. A mistake. A minuscule smirk dashed across Steve’s lips, sharp and wicked. A ghost of the true figure glimmering beneath: Loki.

Tony had already turned back to his project. Sparks reflected like falling stars on his glasses. Molten steel burned orange, almost white, against the frame Tony crafted to house Loki’s sceptre. The ocean blue gem at its center called a vague threat to any who witnessed it.

 “We’ve got it covered,” Steve answered with a tight, confident nod. “Your hands are full anyway.”

Natasha frowned slightly,  barely a tweak at the corners of her mouth. Interrogating Loki seemed to her like an all-hands-on-deck initiative. But no one had asked her. As ever, she would have to keep her cards and her concerns close to the chest. So she leveled wary green eyes on one sauntering Asgardian prize.

Once inside the cold blank room, she took a firm stance at the door. If Loki was a coiling snake, prepared to bite, and if Steve was a boot waiting to drop, Natasha was the blade that would kill. Smooth, sharp lines, swift as an angry swallow, she moved into place and waited. She would make careful cuts at the scales until she found soft underbelly, and the meat of the monster.

Her wary green eyes followed as Steve spun a chair to face her. Loki slithered into it with nothing more to defend him than a smirk. It was plenty.

“Back for another dance, spider? ” he asked coolly.

She shrugged one shoulder, as if she were half-interested instead of wholly engaged in the careful coordinated step of this interrogation. “Worked before. I got what we needed.”

“Hmm. Too little too late, if I recall. The Hulk nearly killed you and a fleet of Shield agents.”

“And yet you’re the one in shackles. Again. No scepter and still no Tesseract.” Steve sat closer but allowed Natasha to guide the questioning.

“Only a matter of time.” The grin that had so far been taunting, like a cat playing with a dead mouse, now turned manic. His eyes glittered with knowledge and his teeth gleamed with avarice.

Natasha marked the change and its cause: time.

“Why do you want to take the stones?” Natasha cut to the chase.

The smirk dimmed from Loki’s face. It soured and twisted to a scowl. Disdain, fear, guilt, anger, each one flashed hot as liquid gold in his eyes. Natasha noted this, too.

 “So no one else can,” he sneered.

“Like who? Us? SHIELD?”

“You,” Loki scoffed. “You are as children – weak, fragile, ignorant of what you possess. You play at war while Titans gather at your gate.”

“That’s not an answer.” Natasha’s eyes were narrow, observant.

Another smirk, knowing and smug. “It is an answer. And you prove me right by failing to recognize it. Release me and the stones, and your planet may be spared his madness. We all may be.”

“Who’s?”

“The Mad Titan.”

Steve turned to Natasha with a frown and a raised brow. A question. Her lips turned briefly and she gave a decided but minute shake of her head, no. She had no knowledge of this. She hated not knowing, hated surprises. She worked hard to know the whispers of the world. Missing something so big set her on edge.

Similarly, Loki’s frustration grew at the exchange, the ignorance. “You will die! All of you. You haven’t the slightest idea what you are dealing with and it nearly burst through your door years ago in New York!”

“You brought the Chitauri army to New York.” Natasha spoke calmly, but her eyes burned. “We closed the portal. We took your scepter and the Tesseract and you should be in a cell on Asgard. So who is it we should really be worried about here?”

“You still can’t see it,” he laughed, shaking his head at her. “You had all three in your hands and still, you have done nothing! Nothing on your primitive planet will stop him. Not you, Agent. Or your shield, Captain. Not your iron suits or your magician’s cheap tricks. Your world is woefully unprepared to defend the power it holds.”

Steve rose to his feet. “You have no idea what we’re prepared to do to protect th—“

“You cannot even properly wield the stones, much less protect them from what’s coming.”

“What is coming?” Nat asked, calm again, arms crossed, sharp edges, slicing at the armor.

“Decimation.” His eyes locked on hers, unflinching and sure. There was something like a threat to his voice, more akin to a promise but laden with fear. “On a scale you cannot fathom.”

“How?”

“With a snap of his fingers.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed on him. More riddles. If his word could be trusted, he gave away much. She wondered, though, what he gained from them in this exchange. No conversation is one-sided. Not even an interrogation.

“Half the universe will cease to exist,” he explained. “Half of all life, gone from your planet, from Asgard, Jotunheim, Nowhere, every corner of the universe. And he’ll call himself a savior. He’ll destroy it all and demand thanks for it.”

“And what? You’re the only one who can stop him?”

A shallow sigh passed Loki's thin lips. He sank back into the seat, and chewed his lip before raising his eyes to her again.

“Do you know, Thanos made a bargain with me before, when I last came to Midgard. He promised me dominion over whatever remained when the Decimation ends. I had just lost Asgard and he exploited my ambition for a throne of my own. I wanted to prove myself when I’d been set aside and cast from my home.” Dark strands swayed as he shook his head, a bitter set to his thin mouth. “My father made war and sacrifice. I am a prince raised by an enemy, a son of conquest and subjugation. I know sacrifice and I won’t cower before it. Thanos knew that. And he will remember it now, when I take the stones he seeks. So to answer your question, Alianovna: yes, I might be the only one capable of doing what must be done.”

Natasha scoffed, leaning back. Every once in a great while, her anger swelled stronger than reason, deeper than her training, and bigger than her pride.

“How are you any different?” She snapped. “How many have you killed to stop him? And how many more?”

He shook his head and that smile again played dark in his bright blue eyes. The kind of smile that made her spine prickle. Like a cat playing with a mouse.

Natasha rarely felt like anything but a predator; feeling like prey made her lash out.

“How many ranks of men will you sacrifice in the fight? How many armies, Captain?” he asked coolly, leaning back in the chair, before turning his attention back to Natasha. “You’re not so foolish as to think your hands clean. Not any of you… Avengers.” He spat the word like a vile poison. “I can stop Thanos because unlike you I can see that blood must spill and I won’t hesitate to do what must be done. There is not a single life on this planet I would not risk to keep those stones out of Thanos’ hands.”

“So that’s your plan?” Steve scowled. “Mow through as many people as you need to until somebody stops you?”

“Until I get what I came for,” Loki corrected. “What’s yours? I don’t think you have one. How will you keep one infinity stone safe? Three?” he scoffed.

Natasha shifted then. The question had plagued her since she walked out of the Kamar-Taj. Knowledge was power but it was also a burden.

She had stayed here too long. Rather than learning, she was giving away her own knowledge now. With every uncomfortable shift, every angrily hissed question, she told him what was most important to her, to the team. Having lost control of the interrogation, she turned to leave.

“It will burn her, you know,” Loki called and she froze, hand on the barely opened door. “It’s said that another stone nearly turned 5 Guardians together to ash. We both know she cannot claim such power alone and untrained. Your entire world is a powder keg and that woman is holding a lit match. Tell me where to find her. I only want the stone. I can keep this planet out of the fight.”

She paused for a long moment, eyes locked on the door handle. Morality and self-preservation ever at war within the abused, the powerful, the just.

“We don’t trade lives.”

Loki sighed. He had not hoped to reason with the Avengers. They were all heart. Thundering, bleeding, sympathetic heart. It would get them killed one day, he expected.

It nearly got Natasha killed this day.

As she pulled the door to leave, Steve stepped behind her. An inhumanly swift hand dove for the gun at her thigh, drew and cocked it in one clean motion. Of course, the focus it took Loki to move faster than the spy at the door meant he could no longer project the image of himself in the chair. The illusion vanished in a shimmer of green and gold. So too, did the illusion he’d been projecting over himself of Captain America.

She spun, wide eyed and slammed the heel of her hand into his wrist, knocking the gun loose just as he dislodged the clip. As the gun went sailing, only one round remained in the chamber. Loki would rather not fire it. It would certainly ruin his game of stealth and accelerate his need of escape before he had gleaned all the information he’d come for.

Natasha rammed her elbow into his throat and he reeled back. She was on him in a moment, thrusting her knee to his chest. He stumbled to the floor while she reached for a tiny metal disk – a widow’s bite. But this time, he was faster.

He’d already conjured a thin black dagger and as she reached for the disk, he thrust the razor thin point through leather, skin and muscle, deep into her side. She gasped when he withdrew it quickly. A punctured a lung by the thin, hissing sound of it.

She tumbled sideways off of him. The silver disk, still in her fingers slammed onto his arm. It sent a ripple of electric agony through his spine, deep into spamming muscle. His entire body seized. A feral growl ripped up his throat, tearing, clawing, biting for control.

Finally he dragged his fingers to the disk as she reached the gun in the far corner of the room. Warm blood dripped off his skin where he tore the disk away. Not nearly as much as what gushed over the fingers she clutched to her side. She raised the gun, and he projected. Four copies of Steve Rogers split across the room, lunging for her. Her eyes danced, trying to pin down the correct one for her single shot.

She chose wrong. The correct mimicry of Steve, the only other corporeal body in the room had waited. He picked up the discarded firearm, now empty. And brought it down with unforgiving force against soft temple.

Loki brushed back a sweep of blonde hair, maintaining the projection. He allowed himself a scowl down at the crumpled form beside him.

He had learned much from this interview, though there was still work to be done here in enemy territory. Speed would be essential now. Two bodies in two rooms where he was meant to be... It wouldn’t be long before the others discovered his trickery.

Still it was worth it. He had learned the Avengers’ limits. They had confirmed they would not, in the end, have the force of will to prevent total Decimation. It was down to him. This, truly, was his purpose.

“I gave you Thanos’ secrets…” he breathed, still catching his breath as he drew to his feet and dragged open the door. “Time to reveal your own.”

He straightened his spine far beyond the lithe curve he usually took. Back to the complete vision of an American soldier.

A perfect mimicry of Steve Rogers strode out of the interrogation room. The door closed with a heavy leaden thud and the electronic whir-click of a lock.

Part 17 >>

[yoonia]

About Time // Part 20

➬ Character | Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Eventual Smut / 18,5k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Ratings | Mature/+18 and up

↳ Warnings | mentions of alcoholism, mentions of cancer, (probably) inaccurate medical and law terms

↳ Author’s Note | This chapter took me forever to finish, but I’m glad that it’s finally out. I want to thank my girls, @randombtsprincessa and @softyoongiionly​ who have been hyping me out and yelling at me each time I came close to giving up and when I stop writing, and as always my second set of eyes, @theodea​. I hope you’ll enjoy this one as we slowly unravel the story between our characters. Please make sure not to miss the second note at the end of the chapter. Thank you!

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

Song Companion | Shah - Can't Leave You | Oleg Byonic - Wait For You

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

Subtle movements happening around me were the ones that had woken me up.

Whoever it was that had been moving around while I was still asleep, they had tried to do things stealthily, moving about carefully enough not to disturb my sleep.

But when a person had been stuck in one place for so long the way I did, their senses would easily become familiar to their surroundings the same way mine had. I didn’t need much to recognise the sounds that had been constantly happening around me, allowing me to identify the foreign ones when they appeared. I would be able to feel every movement, be it from any unanimated object or simply random movements that took place, and I could sense the changes in the air around me as it happened. So it was easy for me to catch their presence even before I had my eyes opened when they kept on moving, the low thud of their footsteps and the things they were moving around followed each move they made.

And then there were also the scents. It was his cologne that allowed me to recognise him without me seeing him. And it was a good thing too, because it allowed my heartbeat to settle down from its frantic pace and prevent me from waking up in fear, startled to find a random stranger invading my space.

I finally opened my eyes slowly. He was nothing but a blurry blob of a person moving around my room when I looked at him through my bleary eyes. The way he was still pacing back and forth around the bedside drawers told me that he had yet to realise that I was awake. So I continued watching him, blinking my eyes until the sight of him gradually grew clearer and I was finally able to see just what he was doing in my hospital room.

Of course, cleaning up my mess would be the first thing he would do the moment he got here, I wondered with a smile.

This man could never settle with a messy space. He could not even settle in patience without finding something to do, no matter how often he would complain or whine whenever he felt like he had been doing too many things at once.

I barely moved when Yoongi reached out to grab a bouquet of fresh flowers that had been left on top of the small table near the doorway. It looked new, and I had no recollection of seeing it before I fell asleep after my treatment this morning, so it must have arrived just a while ago. I saw Yoongi opening the card that came with it and tutted to himself, muttering low as he shook his head.

The moment I realised what he was saying, I could no longer stay silent. “Bastard? Did the sender really sign the card with that name?”

My voice seemed to startle Yoongi that he nearly jumped. He turned with his hand on his chest, looking almost ghastly grey that quickly faded when he chuckled. “Fucking hell, you scared me,” he said, tossing the flowers away. Though they only landed back not so gracefully on the table instead of into the trashcan placed on the floor right beside it, where he was probably aiming to throw them in before I caught him.

“Sorry,” I said, pushing myself up from the bed the best I could to sit upright while he handed me a glass of water and helped me drink. As I drank, my chest felt hollow. I had been in this place for too long that this simple gesture had become some sort of a routine. And that he had become so familiar with everything that he knew easily just what I needed. It made me feel relieved to have him with me, but I felt the guilt gnawing inside me just the same.

I hated feeling miserable and weak. And I hated it more to see the pitying look he gave me as he read me so easily. “Have you been here long?” I asked him before he ever had a chance to bring it up. Because there was no way he didn't notice it when he had grown used to my moods already. Thankfully, Yoongi had chosen not to say a thing about my condition and only shrugged.

“Not really,” he looked around, rubbing the back of his head as he followed my eyes to see the things he had been tidying up before I woke. “I wasn’t sure if it was alright to wake you up, so I tried to find some things to do while I waited. Sorry if I woke you up.”

I waved him off. “No, you didn’t. It’s just time for me to wake up. It’s almost lunchtime,” I told him, not that I was excited for lunch in any way. Not when I was not completely capable of eating properly. The blisters on my lips and inside my mouth had been increasing rapidly that I couldn’t taste anything without feeling pain. It had been coming and going, sometimes getting better after getting some vitamins or once I began drinking all those herb drinks Kara had been making for me. But whenever they came back, they always left me feeling miserable. And terribly hungry.

And hunger made me feel even more miserable.

If Yoongi had noticed the discomfort look I was making just by thinking about the food, he showed none of it. But he did scrunch his nose and gave a distasteful scoff. “You’re actually excited for the hospital food? Man, you’ve been here for too long.”

I scoffed. “Nope, I’m just excited for their pudding,” I said, without bothering to elaborate the fact that it would probably be the only thing I could manage to eat.

“Damn,” he said, shaking his head almost too dramatically. “I was hoping that I could steal your pudding while you eat.”

I knew that he was only trying to make me feel better, but that was enough to have me laughing. But only for a short while, because any kind of tension happening on my torso gave me pain. As I winced, my eyes fell on the flowers he left behind. It was not hard to recognise them. Jungkook had known me for a long time to remember just what kind of flowers I loved most, and he had gotten me the same kinds ever since we had been together.

Fresh white roses, mixed with a handful of blooming white baby’s breath—just like the ones I had in the flower bouquet that I carried on our wedding day—and with a simple white ribbon wrapped around the footstalks. He had known me well enough to know that I only enjoyed simple things, and it hurt to know that he still remembered everything to the T.

I didn’t really need to ask, but I could not help it. “Those flowers—Jungkook sent them, didn’t he?”

Yoongi clenched his jaw and nodded. “I heard that he’s making amends.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, he just promised to stay around. Be a friend,” I told him, to which he gave me a sceptical look through his eyes. “He wants to be involved but not so much to disturb my life or to get in the way of my recovery process.”

Yoongi started shaking his head. I knew that I didn’t have to explain things on Jungkook’s behalf or to defend him right in front of my friend. But what Yoongi did not know was that Jungkook was not the only one making amends. If he was willing to try and make peace with everything that had been going on, then I should do just the same. It was the only way I could do to let the pain of his betrayal go away and to be able to look at my future without any resentment of the past.

It may have been far too late for me to realise it, and I hated the fact that I needed Jimin there to open my eyes, but the only reason why I have yet to be able to move forward entirely had been due to my anger. Letting my resentment grow freely inside my chest would only blind me from the beautiful things waiting for me in the future.

That is, if there was still any hope for me out there.

“I was almost sure you’re going to forgive that son of a bitch again,” Yoongi finally said with a sigh.

“Oh, I have forgiven him.”

Yoongi sat back with a jolt. “What?”

Chuckling, I waved him off. “No, I meant to say that I have forgiven him, just so we could move on. It has been too exhausting to keep being angry. If he really meant it when he said he wanted us to be friends, that he wanted to support me, then I should stop being so hostile with him. It’s actually pretty relieving to not be angry with him all the time,” I explained, and Yoongi slowly relaxed, while I had to clench my teeth together at the memory of all those passing moments we have had where we were too busy battling each other instead of moving forward. “Not to mention, the last altercation he caused had hurt Jimin. I don’t think I would have any more to give if I’m going to continue fighting him.”

Yoongi sat in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Sighing, he nodded his head after a while. “I still regretted not being here at the time to punch his face. Not to defend your boyfriend, but for stressing you out.”

I gave him a wry smile. Our relationship had always been a bit more cordial before this point, when we were just two people running a freelance business together. Back in college, he was nothing more but a stranger since we both ran with different crowds. He was more a part of Jungkook’s circle than he was in mine. But to have him on my side this time around, to have him as a part of my support system both as a friend and a second brother to me was gratifying.

“You haven’t been around much. I was starting to miss you,” I told him, making him chuckle. It was not a lie, I did miss him. His absence had never felt so strong before, but even with the overwhelming change happening in my life lately, I have missed his presence around me.

“And you really want me to believe that you actually have been thinking of me?” he jokingly asked me. “I thought you already have someone to keep you company. And I know that he’s been keeping you busy.” He said this while waggling his eyebrows, and I felt my face flushing with heat. He may not have fully supported my new relationship with Jimin at first, stating that I was risking my heart by being close to someone who was fighting the same battle as I was, but he seemed pretty okay with it now.

“What have you been up to?” I asked him. “Come on, tell me anything. I’m bored, and anxious.” Because the days were moving closer to the day for my surgery, was what I couldn’t tell him. Thinking about it only made me tremble in fear, so I tried to avoid bringing it up unless it was necessary. “Tell me that the world outside still exists.”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “Oh, the world outside still exists, all right,” he said, before he began updating me about everything that had been going on lately. Not everything in the world that I could keep up on my own through the news or the things I saw on the television, however, but the things around us that I had left behind. He updated on things regarding work, since I had left behind a bunch of unfinished projects on his hands when I got sick. I had tried my best to help him while I still could, until I had no more energy and he stopped bringing files on our projects to the hospital so he could stop me from trying to force myself to stay active.

Then he suddenly fell silent, just when I was asking him about what had been going on in his life. He looked a bit embarrassed for a moment, looking everywhere but my eyes until he finally took a deep breath and spoke.

“I’m seeing someone,” Yoongi finally admitted. “It’s new and nothing really serious yet, so Hoseok told me to take my time for myself with—you know.”

“No, I totally understand. I don’t ever want to be in the way for you or Hoseok on whatever is happening with your lives,” I told him, before realising something else. “Did you think I would say something about it? Is that why you never said anything to me at first? You know I wouldn’t, right? You’ve done so much for me. I already told you and my brother that I don’t want to have you both putting lives on hold for me. I know Hoseok is starting to.”

And I meant it. I have noticed it for a while but my brother had never wanted to talk about it. Hoseok was starting to look like he was stepping back from living his life, as he struggled to be there for me the entire time I was battling my illness, all while he was doing all he could to help me get out of my broken marriage completely unscathed.

Yoongi’s smile looked a bit sad when he looked at me. “I know you wouldn’t say anything bad. You’ve always been so great when it comes to dealing with my relationships. I think you’ve handled things better than I had,” he said with a chuckle. “As for Hoseok—He’s trying to make up for lost time. You know, for all those years he had made the mistake of cutting you off.”

Shaking my head, I refused to acknowledge it. “It wasn’t completely his fault,” I said, surprising even myself for knowing how I meant it. Through all those years we have lost contact, I did blame Hoseok for pushing me away and refusing to hear what I had to say. He was the one who had shunned me when I needed him the most, but that anger was gone now. Just like how I had forgiven my ex-husband, just how I had forgiven Kara and my father, and how I was just starting to forgive myself for all the horrible things which had happened between us in the past, I had forgiven my brother.

“Yet he still blames himself,” Yoongi said to me patiently, defending my brother. “He still thinks that he deserves to be punished for his ignorance in the past, for not being there for you until it was too late. He kept telling me how hard it has been for him to forget that fact how he had turned his back on you. That you had trusted him and he had only let you down. I think he instantly regretted it when it happened but he didn’t know just how to reach out to you again.”

“Until he met you.” I gave him a wry smile, while deep inside, I was grateful for the fact that my brother had somehow met Yoongi by chance and reached out to him so he could become the bridge between the two of us. Yoongi had no obligations to do any of that, but he did. And he had made it possible for the two of us to reconcile, even if it had come a bit too late.

An orderly interrupted our talk by entering the room with my lunch. Yoongi stood up to retrieve the tray and took his time to set up my meal for me. After a while, I couldn’t help it, I just had to ask, “Why do you take such good care of me? I mean, I’m happy that you are here and to have you as a friend and a second brother. But you’ve done a lot more. Not just for me, but for Hoseok too.”

Yoongi avoided my eyes when he returned to his seat. “Because I really care about you, ______. And you also did a lot for me when I needed help and people were turning their backs on me,” he finally said. His eyes were dark, and his pain was visible when he looked up at me. “Back then, you knew my secrets and still didn’t run away,” he said, while my memory brought me back to the past, when I had met him again after a quite some time, after he had become distant to most of the people we knew back in college. None of the people around us truly knew then that his friends had left him when things were hard for him, and I had chosen to become his friend at the time because I knew what it was like to lose everyone because of all the choices we made.

“I would never turn my back on you,” I told him, while he only gave me a bitter chuckle.

“Well, most people did. They always said it didn’t matter, but then they couldn’t look at me the same way again.”

I bit my lip when I remembered those days. Those final days before I finally left college, when people were whispering things on campus. Bad rumours had always been easy to travel quickly, especially when it came to a person like Yoongi. “Did people ever find out? I thought nobody ever clarified the rumours that had been going around at campus.”

He scoffed. “No, but it happened around the same time I began cutting back from classes and partying, so I guess people took it as a confirmation to them being true. And I had no point or a reason to deny it. Especially since when the truth finally came out, it didn’t really help much to make a difference in the situation.”

I reached out to him and grabbed his hand. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? It’s in the past and you have grown far from that. And you’ll have my back as long as you have me.”

Chuckling softly, Yoongi gave me a relieved smile as he gripped my hand tighter. “Good. Cause you’ll have mine as long as I can help it.”

My heart felt full and warm with the promise that we shared, but at the same time, I also felt the weight of guilt brewing inside my chest as I said those words to him. I was grateful and glad for our friendship and knowing that we would be there for each other no matter what cause, and I had meant every word I said. But I couldn’t help but wished that I had been able to do the same and keep my promise to someone else.

I still wished that I had been able to do the same to another person who I should have never turned my back on in the past.

—Present life. Year 2018—

Winter break had barely ended when I returned to campus at the beginning of the new year.

The cold breeze still felt so strong even though spring was right in the corner that I had to tighten my coat while I paced down the slippery sidewalk towards the rendezvous spot. Taehyung had to repeatedly look over his shoulder to make sure that I was still following him close behind and that I hadn’t slipped away without him noticing. It was partly my fault that he got worried. Simply because I kept refusing his help each time he tried to hold my hand as we walked down the icy sidewalk on our not so sufficient boots. But I also knew that he could barely hold his own, which had been the reason why I didn’t want to become a burden.

Not when I was supposed to be here to give him the support he needed.

I looked up to notice that we were getting close to the east side plaza, where the largest park in the campus’ vicinity was located and also where people were gathering for the event. Loud voices and excited chatters were heard just when we were coming up around the corner, while Taehyung’s gaze looked both amused and nervous when he looked over to me for the last time.

He waited for me right before we went there. This time, I reached out for his hand and held on tightly. “You okay?”

“Fine, just nerves,” he said, shrugging, acting like it was no big deal. But I knew him, both in this lifetime and in the previous one, enough to know that he was blanketing his emotions and thoughts from me. And yet, I only chose not to push him too much about it and tried to have him think of other things instead.

“Okay, now remind me again why we came all the way here? Classes won’t start until the end of the month,” I asked him, just when a series of laughter was heard from the plaza. “And why the hell did they choose to meet up out here anyway? It’s fucking cold.”

Taehyung chuckled as he watched me wrapped my arms around myself and tugged me to come and walk with him, huddling close to keep our bodies warm. “These people are volunteers who are interested to join the spring project. I heard that they wanted to gather as many volunteers as they could get before everyone gets swamped with classes and assignments,” he began talking as he guided the two of us to join the crowd.

As we came up to the plaza, the place had already been filled with students, all wrapped up in thick winter coats and sweaters, all rubbing their hands together to keep themselves warm. But everyone shared the same wide eyes and bright, excited faces as they waited for the event to start. Everyone was standing together, facing the stage at the center. I kept on watching the people around us as Taehyung led us to the middle ground, all while sharing everything there was to know about the event.

This project was held by the local social acts group formed by students from the Social Studies and Medical Faculty, with some of Taehyung’s seniors whom he had grown close to leading the group. They always held their annual community service to help children or elders in need, and Taehyung had been involved in them a few times through the past year that he had probably grown accustomed to all of this.

Most of the work that he had done had mostly involved children, since that had been his main interest for his studies. But early winter, he had joined the service to provide coals and firewoods for elders and poor families who lived in isolated areas. For the past year, Taehyung had enjoyed doing this service and charity work because it had made him happy, it had given him a purpose and new goals to achieve, while opening a way for his future career.

In a different lifetime, being involved with this cause had only served as a form of escape.

And it was what had brought him far, far away from me until the day the bridge between us finally burned for good. All driven from the hurt that I had caused him.

“What’s the goal for the spring project, then?” I asked him just when he found us an empty spot with the perfect view towards the stage. The cold didn’t feel as harsh now as we stood between these people, but Taehyung still wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close to keep me warm.

“That’s what we’re all here for. The group always chooses their project from the ideas that they collect from their members or other volunteers, then chooses a captain to lead according to what kind of social service or charity they are doing. They haven’t decided what they were going to be working on this spring. Looking from all of these people gathering here, I’m guessing it’s going to be a big one. They’ve never had this many people being interested to join.”

“Maybe this is for the project that you wanted to sign up so badly before? The one they said they were going to send volunteers to the southern hemisphere?” I asked him, reminded of his wish to join the volunteer work that may give him a chance to travel to places while continuing his study.

Taehyung shook his head. “I don’t know. It could be. They haven’t really announced anything for that one either.”

I was about to say something, asking him more about this group and the organisation behind its cause, when a few people stepped up to the stage. One of the female leaders took the microphone and began to greet everyone who was present, applauding people who had come even in the cold. But I barely paid any attention to a word she said when I followed Taehyung’s gaze and saw him standing there with the other members of the volunteer group.

“There he is. Namjoon is always there with them. He’s been made captain on the last few projects that we’ve worked on,” he said, sounding almost distractedly as he watched Namjoon conversing with his friends on stage. I had to admit, the man really was attractive. His whole presence oozed confidence and his demeanour showed me that he was a smart man. Smart enough to be extremely persuasive. A dimple showed on his face when he smiled, and his laughter echoed through the stage, almost rivalling the MC’s voice as she continued to speak.

“Has he approached you yet?” I asked.

Taehyung shrugged. “He’s been a bit friendly, but that’s about it.”

“Is that why I’m here? To make sure that you would have someone to remind you to consider things before signing up?” I turn to look at him, waggling my brow to tease him a little.

This time, Taehyung turned to me and snickered. “Well, you know what they said. The only way for someone to avoid getting swayed by a handsome looking guy who happens to be an extremely persuasive man is to have your childhood crush standing right with you.”

“Whatever you say,” I said, chuckling as he tightened his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. Neither of us said a thing as we listened to the MC spoke, before she finally handed the microphone to Namjoon, who became the one to talk about the project and let the volunteers learn more about the system, the plans, and how to sign up.

We shared nothing more but a bittersweet feeling while we were entranced as we listened to Namjoon speak, holding each other the way we never could in another life we shared.

We didn’t only come here to admire this man or to only see what today was all about, but to simply find answers. To slowly connect the dots and put the puzzle pieces together to fill the blanks, just so we could lay down every part of that other lifetime for us to understand where did everything went wrong.

There had been parts of the past, faces and names of the people that had become a part of my previous life that I could not recall or draw from my jumbled memory so easily. I may have seen or felt their presence in those memories, but some of them had appeared in my dreams merely as blurry shadows, faceless figures, people whose voice only came to me as if they had been submerged underwater.

Kim Namjoon was one of the missing pieces of the puzzle that had caused a rift in my friendship with Taehyung in another lifetime. In my memory, he was nothing but a nameless shadow, one that I feared and hated almost as much as the painful parts I shared with Jungkook from the past life. It took Taehyung finding him to help me remember everything—who he was, what he had done, and everything that happened then—all the broken memories had been unravelled the day Taehyung had first introduced me to this man sometime last semester.

And the reminder of who he was had come in the right time, because he had already become a part of Taehyung’s life through these activities he had been involved in. Because just like how it happened in the past life, Kim Namjoon was the one who had convinced Taehyung to join their movement.

The only difference now was that Taehyung had me by his side. That Taehyung had not been wounded when they first met.

In the past life, Kim Namjoon had come into Taehyung’s life when Taehyung needed someone to look up to, when Taehyung needed a friend and guidance while I kept on pushing him away, leaving him in the blind and completely alone. In that part of our lives, the man had come in at the right time, right when my best friend was completely vulnerable. And he had eased his way in so easily, filling the void in Taehyung’s life, saying all the right words and showing all the right things to have Taehyung follow him wherever he would go. What had started as a good cause to give Taehyung a purpose in life, it had ended leading him to get involved with the bad crowd, to join the bad business that Namjoon was secretly building behind his gentle smile and manipulative ways of making people around him feel special.

Taehyung had loved him with his wounded heart, and he had given the man everything. Only to have Namjoon suck his heart and soul dry, before tossing him away once he was done with him.

And I was not there to catch him when he fell.

“So what do you think? Are you going to join this one?”

The gathering event had ended two hours ago, and now we were heading towards the coffee shop where I had been working part-time for the past few months. Taehyung had insisted to walk me there despite his dorm being located in the opposite direction, saying that he was worried that I would slip if I had gone alone. After all the trouble we had by walking through the icy road and the slippery sidewalks this morning, I had no reason to argue. And I also knew that he only wanted to spend some more time with me before he had to leave for his part-time job, so I just let him be.

Ever since we watched Namjoon’s speech, Taehyung had been left in a daze. He had always reacted this way whenever he saw Namjoon. I was never quite sure whether it was due to my warnings regarding the man or if he had truly developed some sort of a crush or perhaps grown the same hero worship that he had for the man the same way he did in the different lifetime.

“I’m not sure yet,” he finally said. “Even if the cause is going to be just around the city, I don’t think I can make it if they’re starting around the same time my classes are starting over.”

His reasoning had made complete sense. But deep down, I also knew that he was lying. He was conflicted. I could feel it. And he was trying so much to hold back from whatever it was that had been bothering him.

Once Namjoon was done with his speech and the event presentation on stage, he had come down to approach Taehyung while the other students had started lining up to join the cause. He had pulled us both to the side, persuading us personally.

“It wouldn’t be as tiring as the one we did last time. We’re only visiting some of the schools at the neighbouring towns. We’re going to give classes, lend some care for the kids, do some health check-up, while the group from the Engineering Faculty will be there to help with technicalities, like building new facilities or fix old structures that didn’t survive the winter,” Namjoon had told the both of us, pretty much summarising his own presentation on stage to make sure that he would point out all the compelling factors to appeal Taehyung. “You’ve always enjoyed working on any causes that involve children, so I’m sure this would be perfect for you. Not to mention, we’ll be getting extra credits for each movement we make this semester with the faculty supporting us through funds and getting us sponsors.”

I could tell that he was getting through to Taehyung when I saw my best friend watching him with wide eyes. But I had been focusing more on Namjoon, letting my own curiosity and wonder get to me. And for someone who appeared so open, so enticing, and one whose main job was to approach people, Kim Namjoon was hard to read.

My memories of him had been nothing but scraps. It had seemed that in my other life, I had no opportunity to know him in person as he was merely a part of Taehyung’s world once our friendship fell apart and we became worlds apart. This time, I had more opportunities to know this man in person. Still, the only things I had come to know about him had only come from Taehyung.

The only thing I knew about him was that he was a year senior from us, focusing on Medical Studies to become a neurosurgeon. He was a brilliant student, had always come with the highest grade in his year, and he had been active in great causes to help people.

None of that information had ever told us the reason why everything fell apart for Taehyung when they began doing all of their causes together. We only knew that in the past life, Taehyung had gone away with him to a place far away, never to return until everything had been much too late. We just never knew when and how, and I knew that this was the reason why Taehyung had been so afraid to take the risk.

“Remember what you said to me back then, before I met Jimin? Back when I was too scared to even go out and have fun?” I asked him as we continued to walk in silence. The coffee shop had appeared on sight, so I knew that this would be the only chance I could ever be able to say this.

“No, I don’t. What did I say?”

I turned to him. “You told me to be cautious, but not too cautious that I don’t get to live and enjoy the present,” I said. “I know you’re worried about the risk of getting close to him without knowing what exactly happened to you in the past after you got together with him, but I know that you enjoy doing these things. So just go for it. If you do it, I’ll be there to join you so you won’t have to be there alone.”

Taehyung smiled at me as he listened to my promises. I could tell that he was relieved to hear it. “You would?”

“Didn’t I promise that I would never let anything come between us? Not this time,” I told him, reminding him all the promises that I had made back then when we found out that one of the many reasons why our lives had fallen apart was because neither of us was there for the other.

I had made a promise that I would never let that happen again. That I would never let him stray away from my life. No matter what. In a different life, I may have left him to fend for himself. This life had to be different. This time, we had each other.

“Right, okay,” he said, nodding to himself while sighing deeply. The frown that he had carried with him ever since we left the campus’ plaza disappeared when he looked at me. In its place came a smile, and a pair of eyes so bright it made me believe that he would be able to conquer everything if he wanted to.

“Thanks for coming with me this morning,” he said, giving me a side hug as we continued our walk.

“You know I don’t mind it. We haven’t been spending too much time together lately,” I told him as I leaned to him.

For the past few months, both of us had been busy focusing on our own lives. While my relationship with Jimin was blossoming, Taehyung was busy tackling different challenges in his life. We haven’t been spending a lot of time with each other the way we used to aside from the time we spent when we went back to our hometown together during the holidays, yet another reason why I had wanted to do this with him.

Despite our busy lives, things had been completely different still.

At least this time, he was still there, and he had yet to disappear from my life. Even if we couldn’t see each other, all we needed to do was to pick up the phone and we would be there for each other even through the distance.

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” he asked me just as we arrived at the coffee shop.

“Absolutely. Are you picking me up here once my shift ends?”

“Yeah. I might stop by at the library to drop some books, but I’ll come to get you right after,” he said, before giving me a hug as he said goodbye.

“Alright then. See you later.”

I stood in front of the coffee shop for a while longer, watching him walk away until he disappeared right around the corner on his way to the daycare center he had been working at. The coffee shop wasn’t too crowded when I walked in, with the majority of the students had yet to return on campus after the long winter break.

But that soon changed the moment my shift began, right when the rush of the lunch hour started. Students and workers from the nearby offices came in, forming a long line only minutes after I had taken over the cashier. The rush lasted for a little over an hour, much shorter than the regular hustle that would no doubt begin the moment the next term started at the end of the month.

Even if I had been out and active since early morning, I served the patrons with a smile on my face. Before I knew it, the line of customer started to dwindle. By the time I served the last patron, my back was sore and my legs were tight, but something was telling me that I wasn’t supposed to take a break yet. So I stayed behind the counter while my co-worker for the day—the only one there since many of the other staff had yet to return from their holiday—turned to ask if he could take a quick break while there was no customer coming in.

“I’m going to take a quick smoke break, is that okay? We can switch once I’m back,” he said, already in the middle of untying his apron to avoid getting some smoke on it.

“Sure, no problem. I got it handled.”

I turned back to check on my phone once he was gone, taking my time to reply to some messages that I got from Jimin who was asking about my day and my plans for the night. I had just pressed the send button when the bell at the front door chimed behind me, but it took me a few seconds too long to put my phone away before a deep voice called out.

“Excuse me. Can I make an order?”

I turned around to greet the new customer. But the moment I saw him, my body went frozen stiff and my head began to spin.

I had never met this person before. And yet, I remembered him.

Each time I tried to reclaim my memories, there was a void where someone was supposed to be a part of. There was a presence that was constant in almost every part of my painful memories. Yet aside from everyone that I had remembered so far, this person had always been nothing but a shadow, a faceless entity that was there, but never completely solid.

But the moment I saw him standing there, right on the other side of the counter, waiting for me to take his orders, his face brought all the missing pieces together. All the blurry images I had been seeing in my dreams came to me in flashing moments, so quick, so random, but far more clearly than how they all had been. His face filled all of those empty voids. His face, his eyes, his small smile, they replaced the faceless man who had been there by my side through all of the hurt, through all of my journeys.

In those dreams, in those flashing memories that I had been getting, I could never see the face of the man who was holding my hand while I was fighting for my life. And at that moment, as I was looking straight into this customer’s eyes, his face was all I see being there by my side.

He was there.

He was always there.

“Um—hello?”

The man waved his hand right in front of my face with an amused look, snapping me right out of my stupor.

“Oh, uh—yes, hi. Sorry, what can I get you?” I questioned him, unable to hold back the nervous chuckle that came bubbling out. Thankfully, he only smiled.

“I’ll have a cup of espresso and a bagel,” he said, only after taking a moment perusing through the menu placed above the counter.

My fingers were shaking when I was placing his orders into the cashier machine, so I kept my eyes down to make sure I wasn’t making a mistake. “Right. To go?”

He hummed softly and looked around. “Um—no, I think I’ll take them here.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a moment to finish up his orders. “Thank you. You can take a seat or wait on the counter. We’ll call your name once your order is ready.”

“Yeah, okay. My name is—”

“Yoongi,” I blurted out before he could even finish. For some reason, just like how his face filled all the missing puzzle, his name just came into my head as if I had known him my whole life.

When I saw his eyebrows came up to his forehead, I knew then that he was just as surprised as I was. “What? Have we met?”

“Um, well—” I began to stutter while my brain seemed to just stop working indefinitely. So I only said the first thing I could think of as an excuse, “You’re pretty well known. I mean, my friends know you. I just suddenly remember your name.”

Well, at least that was not a complete lie. I was pretty sure that perhaps some of my friends would know him, and I did just remember his name.

He looked at me with a frown, not looking entirely convinced, but he said nothing of it when he handed me his cash to pay for his orders. “Right, well. That’s me. I’m Yoongi.”

“Of course,” I said, avoiding his gaze as I put his money in. “I’ll call you when your coffee is ready.”

His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds, filled with curiosity and probably a bunch of other questions, but he only nodded. “Thanks,” he said to me as he walked to the other side of the counter, leaving me feeling lightheaded.

Everything seemed to be colliding together right at the same time. The final missing pieces of the puzzle were coming to place one at a time. As if the whole universe was trying to shove everything to my face, though I really had no idea just what it was trying to tell me.

—Present life. Hot and Spicy Grill. Year 2018—

As promised, Taehyung had picked me up at work right the moment my shift was up.

There was nothing much to say between us as we drove away in his small city car from the coffee shop, since I was still trying to process the shock of having the unexpected meeting during work earlier while Taehyung seemed like he was having his own turmoil to deal with. He was silent during the drive, looking distracted but thankfully not enough to derail him from driving the car properly. But his silence had made it hard for me to question it when he suddenly started leading the car away from the campus grounds and he kept going further until the car entered the freeway.

It took a few turns before the sight around me changed, the suburbs getting further away behind us, when I finally grew wary and curious that I simply had to speak up. “Are you sure we’re still going to dinner? You’re not planning on kidnapping me, are you?”

Taehyung’s eyes grew wide before he chuckled. “Sorry, it’s a surprise,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t go crazy and take you to any place with no civilisation like what Jimin did.”

Smiling, I looked away from him when my face began to flush. I had told him once about the surprise trip that Jimin had taken me to—which I had to spill because I had completely forgotten to call him back that night after we had just parted way minutes before Jimin came to pick me up. I had told him about how Jimin planned out an outdoor picnic with a thousand stars above us and the view of the valley everywhere I looked, though I had to skip telling him about the ‘dessert’ Jimin gave me under the same stars which had sent me flying to heavenly bliss.

Judging from the sly smirk he was making now, I supposed he had made his own guess to what had happened on the date once the food was left forgotten.

As I looked out the window, I finally realised that he was right. He was not taking me towards the same area that Jimin had taken me to. On the outer lane of the freeway, I saw buildings and dense trees instead of hills and valleys. And to my relief, what I was seeing was the kind of trees I would normally see packed up in the city. The lanes were getting more and more packed with cars as we went further, so I wasn’t quite surprised to see him turning to the exit heading downtown.

“Sorry for the long trip,” he said. “I just found out about this place a while ago and wanted to check it out. I figured if I want to take anyone here to try it then it should be you since we haven’t done this for a while.”

“Aww—that’s so nice that you’re thinking of me. You are truly the best friend every girl needs. The man after my own heart. Or, in this case, stomach,” I teased him, earning his laugh.

It didn’t take much longer than fifteen minutes after we were out of the freeway before he pulled into a small spaced parking lot, and my gaze fell on the small restaurant that seemed like it had only opened pretty recently. “Is it a barbecue and grill place? Awesome!”

“Figured you’ll love it,” he said, turning the car engine off. “Let’s go before the place gets packed with the dinner crowd.”

It didn’t take us long to be seated. But Taehyung was right. Not too long after we made our orders, more and more people started coming in and the place was full within minutes.

“I hope this place is good. People keep talking about this place so I bet these people came from everywhere around the city. I don’t even doubt that we would see some familiar faces from campus,” Taehyung told me after taking a quick look around.

“I’m really hungry I can eat anything at this point,” I said, smiling at him. It really didn’t matter where we were or if the trip here had been worth it. It was spending the time with my best friend during all of the things that had been going on in our lives which I had been most excited about.

The tables around us had started grilling and Taehyung seemed giddy in his seat, looking excited as he looked at the meal with a deep longing in his eyes and he licked his lips at the roasted beef cooking beside us. This was something that I had missed, enjoying our time together and to see him loosening up. Each time we were together, I would look at him and wonder how we ever came apart.

How much different was it back then between us compared to us now? Would we still have this if I had never learned all the mistakes we made in the past life?

Taehyung was picking on the welcome snacks when I felt my phone vibrating in my bag. Remembering that I had promised Jimin to text him the moment Taehyung had succeeded in picking me up at work while he couldn’t, I pulled out the phone and smiled when I noticed that he had messaged me first.

From Jimin: Hey, babe. Are you out with Taehyung?

From Jimin: I’m taking a break atm and I thought about you. Hope he didn’t decide to steal you away from me :(

A smile came to my face as I was reading through his messages. I could picture him sitting down in the middle of his dance practice, all sweaty and breathless while he was typing these words. My heart jumped and it made me realise how much I missed him, even if we had only been apart for a day thanks to our schedules.

To Jimin: I’m safe. He’s not kidnapping me or whatever, but you did give him an idea of taking me far away from campus

From Jimin: Sorry, my bad :p

To Jimin: How’s practice?

From Jimin: These guys are relentless. I’ll probably wake up all sore and bruised tomorrow

To Jimin: But you love it

From Jimin: I do :)

To Jimin: What time will you be done?

From Jimin: We’re doing one more round of practice then I’ll be on my way home

Home. The way he had said it made my heart stir. Ever since we became official, Jimin had repeatedly asked me to move in with him. But I have yet to give an answer, thinking that perhaps things had been going on too fast. If there was anything that I learned from putting all the pieces from my other life together was that moving too fast could lead to a disaster.

Would I dare risk it and say yes? I knew that it was something that my previous self—the other ’me’—had wished for. I saw her dreams as some broken fragments of memories in my dreams, had even mistaken them as actual memories until I managed to decipher them as parts of imaginations instead, and many of those images had shown me various types of white picket fence houses. The settings and everything else around them would be a blurry mess and they had kept changing each time they came to me, but there had always been one part of it that had been consistent, an invariable factor from all of these dreams—Jimin.

“Is that Jimin?” Taehyung questioned me the moment he noticed the expressions I was making as I was messaging my boyfriend back, not realising that my mind had started to wander. “Is he still at practice?”

Putting away my phone, I smiled at him. “Yeah. That’s him. He was checking on me. Kinda. I told him that I’d be with you while he’s busy with his dance.”

Taehyung tilted his head. “Doesn’t he bring you to his practices?”

“No,” I said, snickering to myself when I remembered how adamant Jimin had been to stop me when I insisted to come to his practice. “Jimin said it’s better for me to just watch the actual performance. I think he’s still a bit embarrassed to show me all the process behind his work.”

Taehyung chuckled. Shaking his head, he only commented lightly, “He probably didn’t want you distracting him. Or worse, have his friends coming on to you while he’s busy dancing.”

I rolled my eyes at him. Both of us knew that Jimin had a bit of a jealousy streak, but not so much that it made me feel suffocated just to be with him, or to feel like I was constantly walking on eggshells. The only way he had been showing it was to playfully complain or he would sometimes poke fun on me, acting sulky but never too much.

There was only one person in this world who could tick him off the wrong way. And honestly, Jimin was not the only one who was against this same person.

Looking up at Taehyung, I realised that he had never been kind to each time Jungkook’s name was mentioned. Out of everyone in my life, he was the only person who knew why I had to stay away from Jungkook. He was the only one who had heard all the stories, everything that I remembered from the other ’me’ and all that I felt when the memories returned.

Just like how I was the only person who knew what would happen to both of us if we would ever make another mistake.

Taehyung glanced towards the table next to us one last time, growing impatient while he was completely oblivious to where my mind had been wandering to. Watching him like this reminded me of how distracted he had been when he first came to pick me up, suggesting that something must have happened to him between the moment when we parted ways to the time he came by at the coffee shop. I had been waiting for him to talk about it, only to have him constantly acting as if I had yet to notice his odd behaviour.

“So how was your day?” I finally asked him when his gaze turned blank and he was suddenly becoming more interested in the paper napkin which he had placed on his lap. “You haven’t told me much about your work and your trip to the library.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

That got me raising my brows. It was becoming more obvious to me now that he was trying to avoid talking about it. “Really?”

Taehyung looked up to me, pressing his lips before he released a defeated sigh. “I hate you,” he said, catching me off guard before he suddenly chuckled. “I hate that I can never lie to you.”

Smiling to him, I merely shrugged my shoulders the way he often did. “We’ve been friends since forever. If there’s one person in this world who knows you better than yourself, it would be me,” I said teasingly, before I added, “Second to Hoseok. Sometimes I wonder if he’s secretly your brother, not mine.”

Taehyung chuckled at that. There was no lie that he had come to grow close to Hoseok as we grew up together. Our friendship had started from a play date held by our Moms that happened when we were kids, only because our houses were located in the same block and I was the only one in the neighbourhood who was at the same age as he was. Then our friendship grew in elementary school when we promised to have each other’s backs, and we stayed close as we kept on going to the same school, doing the same things together growing up, then he stayed with me when I got sick and while I was recovering in the hospital years ago. But, as a boy, he had looked up to Hoseok as if he was his own older brother, and Hoseok had taken a liking to him especially because he had always wanted a brother.

“True. Though he wouldn’t be subtle if he wants to know stuff about me. He’d probably be snapping at me—Come on! Spill!” Taehyung jokingly imitated Hoseok’s tone of voice, which made me laugh when I saw his face and I could actually imagine my brother’s voice coming out of him.

“Seriously, though. What is it?” I asked again before he ever had a chance to change the topic around and avoid answering your question. “You came to the coffee shop looking like someone had just hurt your dog. And you’ve been pretty quiet when you’re not talking about this place and the food.”

Once again, he pressed his lips together. “Nothing much, really,” he started, though he suddenly grew restless in his seat and he began to look away, finding it hard to look into my eyes. He suddenly seemed nervous, yet I still felt a hint of relief when I didn’t see any guilt in his eyes, it would probably be worse if he was hiding something big from me.

“It’s just—” he said, clearing his throat. “I stumbled upon Namjoon at the library earlier.”

“You did?”

Are you sure that he was not stalking you? —Was what I had originally wanted to say, but I kept them to myself.

Taehyung looked down briefly before facing me again. “Right, so—he kept on asking me to join the cause and the rest of their spring activities cause they needed more people. Then he started asking me about my classes, the professors I’ve gotten this semester, before he suddenly asked if we could grab a coffee sometime.”

I blinked. He had spoken so quickly during the last part of his sentence that I wasn’t sure if I was hearing things right until it finally clicked for me a few milliseconds too long. “He asked you to go out for coffee?” I asked, to which he nodded. “Like—casually? Or—”

“Like—he just literally said, ‘Hey, why don’t we grab some coffee sometime and talk more?’, in a friendly kind of way,” he said, imitating Namjoon’s voice in his own way.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging sheepishly. “I was kind of shocked and he only patted me in the back and walked away.”

I blinked again. “Funny how he seems to insist having you around a lot,” I muttered, before looking at him suspiciously. “He even came to you this morning while the gathering was clearing up. And you said he wasn’t interested to make a move on you.”

The waiter came in just then to drop our drinks and Taehyung took his time to take a sip of his cold beer before answering, “I don’t know either. He didn’t seem like he even noticed me that much in the past year.”

“How did you feel about his offer then?”

He raised his brows. “How I felt? Well—I certainly didn’t have all the goosebumps, the fireworks, or my heart beating fast cause I have no jumbled memories mixing in between the good and the bad, so—”

“Hey, watch it—” I warned him while pointing a straw at him. “No, I’m just asking cause it seemed to bother you a little.”

“It’s not. It’s just—” he seemed to contemplate his answers for a moment, like he was trying to find the best way to explain his trail of thoughts even while he was having trouble understanding it himself.

“I guess I was just wondering, why me?” he finally said. “I mean, I kind of understand why he would be approaching me—another ’me’—in the alter life. It must have been compelling to come on to someone who seemed broken and lost and I had probably seen him as my saviour, the light of my life after the darkness, the white knight.”

His overly dramatic expression had you raising your brows. “He’s kind of a heartthrob too.”

“Yeah—” he hummed. “I won’t even deny the fact that he’s attractive. But normal me? This me? I wouldn’t have picked him as the type of guy I’d be dating if I would—” he stopped and started glancing around, as if he was afraid that someone might be listening in. “You know.”

And I did know what he was trying to tell me. For someone who had been open about his sexual preferences, he was still wary about the world around us, not too sure on how they would perceive him.

He leaned back on his seat when he added, “He seems so put together too. But after knowing what would have happened if I had just let things be, I can somehow look past his false act of composure and find him seem a bit unhinged.”

“Seriously?” I questioned him, laughing. “Unhinged? Have you been reading criminal fiction novels in your Psych classes?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

I laughed at him, but then stopped myself as I watched him closely. While a part of me was relieved that he believed me enough to tread things carefully, I was also feeling the guilt for allowing him to build his own boundaries by giving him all the warnings on what was supposed to be our future. Even though he was giving it the best he could, I still worried that he might not be living his life to the fullest potential just because he was afraid to make any decision that could lead to the end of our friendship.

Taehyung looked at me when I fell silent. “What? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Sighing, I had no choice but to share my thoughts on this. “Just wondering if I’ve made the right decision on letting you know about your supposed future. What if my memories had been wrong this whole time and it wasn’t Namjoon that I saw? What if he’s just a good guy with his mind on his good cause who happens to have an innocent crush on my best friend?”

Taehyung seemed to ponder on it briefly before shaking his head. “I’ve been talking shit and making long speeches about you risking things by not staying away from this dude who had supposedly ruined your life and your trust to other human beings—”

I rolled my eyes. “His name is Jungkook.”

But he continued on, ignoring me completely. “—so I’ve decided not to risk mine. Second chances, remember?”

His words made me stop. I bit my lip and nodded. “Second chances.”

Taehyung gave me a grim smile when he nodded back, but it also appeared to me that there was a huge weight being pulled away from his shoulders. As if being honest with each other had been freeing for him, something that I was feeling too.

Noticing that our meal order had yet to arrive at our table, Taehyung looked around and pushed himself out of his seat. “The food’s going to be here any minute but I’m going to need the restrooms. I’ll be right back,” he said, before he left his seat to make a quick run to the restrooms at the back.

I watched him leave just in time for my phone to vibrate in my hand. I looked down, opening the messaging app immediately for thinking that Jimin had texted some more before his practice would start again, only to stop when I saw Jungkook’s name flashing on the screen instead.

From Jungkook: Hey, I hope I’m not texting you with your boyfriend around :p

From Jungkook: It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at the pub

From Jungkook: Is everything okay?

Biting my lips, I looked over to where I saw Taehyung had disappeared to and breathed a sigh of relief that the message had come in while he was gone. Taehyung would have only needed to take one look at my face before he would start asking questions, including why I had been texting with Jungkook from time to time.

To Jungkook: everything’s fine

To Jungkook: Been a bit busy, that’s all. How are you?

From Jungkook: doing okay

From Jungkook: I’m finally back on campus and I just got my schedules at the pub. Will be performing on stage next Friday night

From Jungkook: Will you come?

I lowered the phone to my lap, having no idea how to respond. While most of our texts had been about keeping up with each other’s lives, there had been a few times when he would invite me to his show at the pub. I had only come to watch him a couple of times, most of them without even saying hello to him directly and leaving before giving him a chance to sit with me. I knew it was wrong to keep in touch and talk to him like this after what I had promised my best friend before, but it had not been easy for me to ignore him.

And he was not someone who would give up so easily either that ignoring his text messages was never a choice. Not when he would often try to find me or even call me until he could talk to me.

From Jungkook: ________?

Another message came in, letting me know that he was waiting for my response. Biting my lip, I pondered over the options. What was I supposed to say? And would he be happy to hear what my answers if I had refused to come?

And why on earth was I already wondering what clothes to wear for the night at the pub?

To Jungkook: Sorry

To Jungkook: I’ll try to be there. What time?

From Jungkook: the second stage of the night. 8 PM

From Jungkook: I’ll be waiting :)

Reading through his response, my stomach turned and my chest grew tight with guilt. There was no way out of this now. And I really had no idea what I was doing either, knowing that Friday night would be the night I would usually come to stay at Jimin’s place so we could spend the weekend together.

“Fuck,” I cursed at myself, before tossing my phone into my bag to avoid looking through his messages again.

The meal we ordered had just arrived at the table when Taehyung returned, with the waiter apologising to the two of us repeatedly about the long wait, explaining to us overwhelmed they were as the restaurant was a full house for the night. As Taehyung returned to his seat, the waiter walked away from our table, and my eyes were drawn to follow him as he weaved through the floor between the tables to return to the kitchen area.

That was when I saw him. His head bobbing over the other seated guests as he walked across the room until he found the table that seemed to have been reserved for him.

“What?” Taehyung questioned me when he noticed, his voice drawing my attention when I was still looking far away. “What is it?” he asked again when he got no answer, then he began looking around the seating area to find what I was looking at.

“I saw someone. From campus. Though it seems a bit odd that he had come all the way to this place to eat,” I said, disregarding the fact that it had been the same case for us since Taehyung and I had driven far to be there too. “There, he’s on the table at the corner. Wearing a black shirt and a black cap.”

He followed the direction I was subtly pointing to, taking a few seconds before his eyes grew with recognition when he finally found Yoongi at the other side of the restaurant.

“You know him?” he asked, raising his brows at me when he turned to me again. “I thought the only people you know on campus are just me, Jimin, and his cousin.”

“Ha, ha, funny,” I sneered at him while rolling my eyes while he enjoyed having been able to mock me about it. But then my eyes went back to his table, seeing Yoongi with another man who looked like him, but a bit older.

“He came to the coffee shop earlier today on my shift,” I told him, finding him looking at Yoongi again as if he wanted to make sure. “You know who he is?”

He turned back to you with wide eyes. “Min Yoongi? Everyone knows him. He’s pretty popular among the frat boys. He’s always leading his friends on the stuff they always organise in their frat houses, though he hasn’t really been in the scene that much lately.”

“And you have?”

He scoffed at me. “Hey, unlike you, I still have a reputation to uphold,” he teased me, snickering when I gave him a scowl. “My dorm mate gets invited to their parties a lot and I always go with him when I can.”

I looked over to Yoongi again, noticing the broody look that he was wearing even as he was chatting with his companion. His brother, more likely, since they looked pretty similar from this distance. Except that when Yoongi was wearing a dark shirt, his brother was wearing something lighter and a bit too formal for a grill house. “So, why hasn’t he been around?”

“Seems like he’s graduating this year, and rumours said he had already taken a job at his brother’s company so he no longer spends much time on campus unless necessary,” he explained slowly before he began glancing around warily the way he did previously. “But, um—there’s also this rumour going around.”

I snapped my head to look at him. “What kind of rumour?”

Taehyung took another quick glance at Yoongi before leaning closer so he could whisper, “Someone said they caught him kissing a TA. A male TA. It happened at a dorm party.”

My eyes grew instantly wide and I had to lean closer as I whispered angrily, “And people just—what? Stay away from him?”

Taehyung shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it seems like his friends are beginning to dwindle. I don’t think it’s because they’re afraid of the repercussions from sticking around or if it’s because there’s a possibility that he’s queer if the rumours are true, it’s just—” he swallowed hard, looking sympathetic as he glanced one more time towards Yoongi’s table before looking at me again, and I knew that the look he was giving me was there only due to the fact that he had once been in his shoes. “He’s been hiding this for so long, if it’s really true. Maybe they’re just pissed cause he’s been keeping a secret. You know how those frat boys are, they hold secrets like a treasure.”

They sure did.

Because according to one of my strongest memories of all, one of the biggest secrets that had been painful enough for me to remember from my past life was how Jungkook’s friends had also had a hand in hiding his sins from me.

Shaking my head, I chose to look away from Yoongi. “Still seems so stupid to just turn their backs on him like that just because of some rumours,” I wondered out loud, when the bitter truth of how he was left abandoned by the same people who were supposed to support him through it truly sunk in.

“It makes you think. Doesn’t it?” he asked me, though it sounded more like he was wondering out loud just like I was.

“About what?” I asked him.

“How you can’t always depend on others to stay in your life forever,” he said to me with an as-matter-factly tone, though it also sounded bitter, because he had experienced it too. Meeting his eyes, I was suddenly glad that I had been able to show him that he deserved the kind of support he needed too.

As we continued with our dinner, talking about all the silly and mundane things from our daily lives, I couldn’t shake the nagging thought still hanging in the back of my head. Too many coincidences happening on the same day. Right at that moment, just when I recounted that I had met Yoongi coincidentally twice in the same day after not being able to remember him for so long, something in my head clicked.

I just didn’t know what to do about it. And I had no idea how I could make it all possible to even happen.

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

As the final weeks before the surgery slowly started creeping up on me, I was slowly becoming a complete nervous wreck.

The fact that I was having an on and off fever also did not help my case at all. I was feeling like crap, was constantly exhausted, without knowing if the reason I kept on falling asleep was due to the overwhelming dose of painkillers that still remained in my blood or if my body had succumbed to the lingering pain that had only been intensifying, as if the masses in my body knew that they were about to be torn to pieces and they were giving their last fight.

My family, which mainly included Hoseok and Kara with the additional help from Yoongi, had been coming and going to stay with me and nurse me whenever needed. I knew that they were trying to ease my mind by staying positive whenever they were around, lifting my spirit while distracting me with things that they knew would make me happy. They would do everything they could, from bringing me movies, books, sometimes food or snacks that I could take without breaking the doctors’ rules and ones that I could swallow easily, to telling me stories or life updates that would be able to stop me from thinking about all the negative things I was facing.

But as the days were coming closer to the day of the surgery, not a single thing could help ease my mind. It was then when I finally realised that the fear had never truly sunk in, and it was only then that my brain was finally processing the fact that I was about to face a high-risk procedure that—according to some of the things I had been reading while I was preparing for it—also had a high chance of failure. And every illusion that I had let itself grow inside my mind, the false hope and optimism shattered like a glass wall and I was faced with the reality that perhaps all of what I was about to go through would be nothing but a fruitless attempt of getting me out of my bind.

It was even worse because I also knew that the people around me were doing all they could to hide the fact that Jimin had been absent.

The emptiness I felt without him there had seemed like a void, a black hole that was growing larger inside me, as if it would be strong enough to swallow me from within. That was when I realised how much I needed him, and I could never imagine how life would be if I no longer had him by my side.

The last time I came to see him, he had been recovering from a long day of tests and treatments, and I had stayed in his room until he was feeling better, only after I had made sure that he was strong enough to go through the days without constantly being under watch.

Not too long after we parted ways, I was getting prepared for the surgery that I was no longer allowed to leave the room or to roam the hospital as freely as I had before. Though the reason why I had not been able to come and see him was not only due to the restrictions given to me, but also because my body had simply given up. I had no energy, and the pain was getting too unbearable as I was getting less painkillers to allow my body to take in more of my new meds.

The last time I saw him again was when I was under heavy medication. I was having a high fever that day and I heard his voice talking to my brother and the residing nurse to ask about my condition. I felt him holding my hand and kissing my forehead each time I woke up, barely able to speak, but seeing his face through my bleary eyes felt like a breath of fresh air. When I woke up feeling much better later that night, he was no longer there, but his warmth remained.

The only thing that had been making me worried was knowing that there had to be a reason why he had yet to come and visit me ever since. In other—more regular—days, he would appear in my room to each time I was unable to visit. He had also promised to stay by my side through this surgery, and yet, only a couple of days left and there was still no sign of him, letting me wondering if there was something wrong.

“I can check on him if you want,” Yoongi finally offered after noticing how anxious I had been the whole day. He must have caught me glancing towards the door even as we were sitting there, watching the movie playing from his laptop together. Perhaps he knew that my head had never been on the movie, just like it had always been.

I looked at him and sighed. “Could you?” I finally relented and asked him. “I asked Soyeon about him but she didn’t say much except that Jimin is still recovering. We text at night before bed, but he’d never answer when I ask how he’s doing.”

Yoongi simply nodded. “You know, it’d probably be easier if you guys just share a room together, huh?” he wryly said.

“I wish,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes before I realised just how tempting the idea had sounded. “Is something like that even possible though?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I’ve heard of family members or spouses with terminal illnesses being put together in the same room, but I don’t know if it’s possible on your case. I could have Hoseok or Kara to ask around. They’re the ones who are listed as your family.”

Shaking my head, I turned to look at the laptop again. “I don’t even know if Jimin would agree.”

“I’m sure he’s just as devastated as you are that he can’t come to see you.”

“You really think so?” I questioned him, finding him frowning when I looked up. “Thanks for trying to lift up my spirits. I feel like you’re treating me like I’m your teenage younger sister or something.”

Looking at me, Yoongi merely scoffed. “I never had any teenage younger sister to take care of so I wouldn’t know.”

When a visitor finally came by to my room later in the night, it was not Jimin.

Yoongi was putting his coat on to leave for the night after staying with me all day when Jungkook appeared in the doorway. There was another bouquet of white flowers in his hand—the same as the ones he had been sending me every day—and a deep scowl on his face when he exchanged gazes with Yoongi.

Yoongi clenched his jaw, obvious enough to show his dislike at Jungkook’s appearance. He didn’t even bother to greet my ex-husband as he turned to me. “Do you want me to stay a bit longer?”

I looked back and forth between them, only to have Jungkook looked away when I met his eyes, though his gaze softened just a little when he saw how uncomfortable I felt at the tension that was rising from them together. Sighing to myself, I could only choose to diffuse the situation by letting Yoongi go on his way.

“It’s okay. You have that date to go to and it won’t be long before Kara gets here anyway,” I told Yoongi, though it was clear that he didn’t exactly enjoy accepting my choice.

“You sure?” he asked again, to which I only nodded. He came to my bed while shaking his head, but he chose not to say a thing when he kissed my forehead aside from telling me to call him if I needed anything. “Promise me to let me know if anything happens.”

“I promise.”

He gave me a final nod before turning to the doorway, where Jungkook was still standing. Both of them stood facing each other for a few awkward seconds before Jungkook finally stepped aside to allow him to pass without saying a word to each other.

The moment Yoongi left, the air between us rippled into a different kind of tension. When it was only between him and Yoongi, all I could feel was their rage, their hostility against each other. But now, as Jungkook was making his way slowly towards the bed, there was a sense of awkwardness that grew between us.

Only a year ago, he was the only man that I had ever loved. Though our marriage was not perfect, he was still a huge part of me that I called home, no matter how lonely that ‘home’ would feel like at times. Tonight, it felt like he was a stranger. There was still a pull inside my chest that felt so tight I could hardly breathe, but it was not enough to have me opening my arms to welcome him with a warm embrace.

Jungkook looked around the room with a wry smile on his face. “You’ve kept the flowers,” he murmured softly as he saw all the white flowers that still remained, finding each one being kept in different vases in all sizes before looking back at me.

“Kara and my nurse, Soyeon, took care of them. If the boys had been the ones who received them, they’d end up somewhere else,” I told him with a chuckle, choosing not to tell him that there had been some that had only ended being tossed into the trash. Mostly on Yoongi’s doing, because Hoseok had always opted on passing them on to the other female nurses who had slowly grown into becoming his admirers.

Jungkook nodded as he listened, and I noticed that his grip on the bouquet had somehow tightened. “May I?” he asked, pointing at the empty chair next to my bed which Yoongi had been using all day.

“Sure,” I said, as I watched him take his seat.

“Here, these are for you,” he said to me as he handed the small bouquet of white roses to me, forcing me to peel my fingers away from the sheets that I had been clutching tightly ever since the moment he appeared at the door.

“Thank you,” I whispered. My fingers felt cold when I took the flowers from his hands. My skin crawled when our fingers touched. It was an odd feeling, when in the past, each of his gentle touches would be able to send my heart racing and my body would shudder in pleasure. It truly felt like he was no longer a part of me, as if the years we shared together had been a distant memory that was no longer mine.

I instantly pulled my hand away and kept the flowers on my lap. I didn’t miss the way he flinched when I avoided his touch, nor did I miss the look of hurt and disappointment that lingered in his eyes when he saw me clutching the flowers tightly on my lap, as if I was using them as a shield to protect me from him.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked after a brief moment of silence. He cleared his throat and blushed when he noticed me looking up. “I, uh—I heard the surgery is in a couple of days.”

I nodded. “Two days,” I said, and my heartbeat accelerated almost immediately. He must have noticed it when my skin blanched, when the rush of panic came over me.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” I quickly told him. “It’s just that it feels surreal, dealing with it. I still haven’t completely wrapped my mind around it. It felt like a long time ago when I agreed to go through with it, so I’ve tried not to think about it too much. But then, suddenly it’s only days apart.”

Jungkook nodded as he tried to understand, and the concerned look on his face remained. “You’ll get through this just fine, I know it.”

I looked up, giving him a small smile. “How can you be so sure?”

Pressing his lips, Jungkook avoided my gaze for a moment. “Because you’re strong,” he finally said to me. “You’re always the stronger one between us. You’ve gotten through everything and still came out of it in one piece, whereas I could only burn things to dust and destroy everything I touched.”

Shaking my head, my words slipped out of me before I could stop them. “Not everything.”

His gaze found me, looking surprised to hear what I said, while I had to look away when once again all of the good memories that we had shared together went through my mind. My fingers clenched tighter around the flowers when I wondered just how everything fell into pieces, though what was left inside me was nothing but a numbing rage, when all the hurt he had given me had seized to give me pain since a long time ago.

Jungkook shifted in his seat, pulling my attention back to him. He was still avoiding my gaze, giving me a chance to finally take him all in. There were a lot of changes going on with him. He had always looked pristine, even when he was hiding his pain inside him. But there were also those moments in time, especially while we were battling for our divorce, when he looked terribly broken. He had stopped taking care of himself, leaving his hair constantly messy and his face looking dark and gloomy. I remembered seeing his eyes red and swollen, with deep, dark bags under them growing darker each time with all the sleepless nights he went through and all the drinking that he had resorted to just to escape from everything.

Now, he had looked much better, making good of his words to take care of himself while I was battling my own illness. His body had grown toned and broader, a sign that he had reserved back to working out and eating healthy again. His eyes were much brighter than how I had seen him last, as he had promised me time and time again that he would stop drinking so he could always be in his clear mind while he was supporting me. And then I caught the sight of his hair, looking thicker and longer as he styled them to the back of his head.

“You look good,” I said, making him look at me again. “Healthier. And you’ve kept your hair longer.”

He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. “Not on purpose,” he admitted with a shrug. “I used to have my wife reminding me to go to the barbershop. Sometimes she would do it herself, have me sit down in the kitchen as she would cut my hair for me. Now, I can’t even decide what style of hair to choose for myself because I’d never know what would look good for me.”

I looked down just as my eyes started burning. There was nothing I could do to stop the tears from building up, threatening to flow like a river.

“Sorry, fuck—” I heard Jungkook’s voice cursing at himself before he leaned forward, catching my wrist and holding it gently in his hold. His thumb began rubbing gently on my skin and the dam of tears just broke apart. “I really need to learn how to shut up, but I just cannot help myself.”

I laughed nervously, though they came out with a round of sobbing when I continued crying. It took a moment before I calmed down. As much as I hated to admit it, the way he was softly holding my hand truly helped put myself together.

“I do miss you. That’s not a lie,” he whispered softly, meeting my eyes when I looked up. He reached out with his free hand, brushing my tears away. “You might not see it, but it feels so empty without you. I tried. I promise you, I have tried. Not to move on by seeing anyone else, because other women always remind me of you, but I try to live my life the best I could, to take care of myself the way you would do it for me, but nothing could fill up the empty space you left behind.”

Shaking my head, I tried to pull away from him. “Jungkook—”

His grip tightened, and he refused to let me go. “No, I’m not doing this to beg you to come back. I swear. I just want to tell you how I feel before I’d explode.”

Drawing a shaky breath, I tried my best to calm my heartbeat before I looked at him again. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

Jungkook looked at me for a moment longer then nodded his head. “Sure,” he said, before he proceeded in telling me things about what he had been doing lately. He made me laugh when he talked about meeting up with his friends, reuniting with his mates from college and spending the whole night playing pool.

“No, I didn’t drink,” he said to me when I asked him about it. “Been sober for almost six months now. There’s no way I can break that promise to you now,” he added, making me smile wider with relief brewing in my chest. “Eunwoo got a bit crazy though. Seconds after he agreed to join me on the next AA meeting, he ordered a full bottle of a 12 years-old Macallan and finished almost three-quarters of it on his own.”

“And the only thing you drank was Coke?”

Nodding his head, he smiled proudly. “Yes, Ma’am. I was on my best behaviour the whole night,” he said, and I felt instantly proud of him. The feeling was bittersweet, however, because I couldn’t stop wondering what our lives would have been like if he had as much control back then when we were together.

“I’m glad,” was all that I could say to him. “I’m happy to know that you’re living a better life.”

Pressing his lips together, he reached out to grab my hand. “And you are going to be there to continue watching me as I make better changes in my life, so you can witness me as I grow to be the man that you can feel proud of,” he said to me, and another set of tears escaped from me. Tightening his hold on my hand, he reached out to my chin and turned my face so I could look at him.

“Listen to me. You’re going to get through this, be stronger and healthier. I know you would. I know it’s scary, but I’m here. As much as I want to beg for you to come back to me, the only thing I need for you is to fight a good fight. We’ll get through this, and we will both have a much better life. We’ll watch each other as we both move on and find our happiness, to make the most of the rest of our lives, whether we’re doing it together or apart. Okay?”

At this point, I was a sobbing mess. The fear was still clawing from within. But his words gave me a new strength that I never knew I could still feel. It probably wouldn’t be enough to make sure that I could make it through, but it was enough to help me look at what was beyond me with a different kind of light.

As I looked into his eyes, I found a new kind of calmness that I had thought I had lost. What I saw in his eyes then would never be the same as what I had seen from him in the past, when he was the reason for me to carry on. But for now, this was more than enough. Taking one last deep, shaky breath, I looked straight into his eyes and nodded. I knew it was wrong to take comfort from the same man that had caused me a lot of pain, the same man that had also caused all the darkest times of my life.

But I knew that he was right and I needed to engulf myself in the comfort of his warmth just as long as I could find strength in them. No matter how scary it would be, I knew that I had to fight it. I needed to. And I had to survive through this no matter what.

“Okay.”

Jimin finally came to see me on the last day I had before the surgery.

It only took waking up to his smile to feel like I was coming alive again, even though I had to take a moment to make sure that I was not dreaming, that he was actually there.

I looked over his shoulder, noticing that the sky outside the window was still dark. the sun had barely come up, which meant that he came in way before the first round of nurses started. On the couch across the room, I saw Kara still deep in her sleep. She had come around the time Jungkook was ready to leave last night, and she had stayed all night to keep me company.

Out of everyone, Kara had been the one who would stay with me overnight. She has admitted once that she was worried that I would feel lonely should I ever wake up in the middle of the night without anyone by my side.

Another reason for her to stay was because of the memory we shared about my Mom. At one of the conversations that we have had where we talked about my mother, I had told her about the late-night phone calls that my Mom made while she was ill. Her eyes instantly lost their light, knowing that one of the many reasons why my mother had been left in the hospital all by herself during those times were because of her. Because my father had chosen to spend the night with his mistress instead of staying by my mother’s side.

“I would remember her whenever I think about you sleeping alone at night in this lousy hospital, afraid and lonely,” she said once after she had asked for a cot and an extra blanket for her to sleep in. “I won’t be able to sleep well at night when it happens. Take it as my redemption. I can’t change the past, but I sure as hell won’t let the same thing happen to you.”

Gentle kisses along my knuckles brought me back to the man sitting next to my bed. Jimin smiled at me when I looked at him. He had my hand in his grip, his lips pressing on my skin as he trailed soft kisses that sent delicate shivers through my body. His touches were enough to warm me up against the cold air conditioner blasting in the room.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, making sure to keep it down so he wouldn’t wake Kara.

“Morning,” I answered him, still completely in a daze as I took in the sight of him. “You’re really here.”

His gaze softened as he gave me a wry smile. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to come and see you again,” he said, and only then did I realise that his voice was hoarse and weak, hidden in his whispers.

And then it took him pulling away for me to notice everything that I had missed—the wheelchair he was sitting on, the thinning hair under his beanie hat, the bags under his red-rimmed eyes, the sunken cheeks, the blisters on his lips—and my heart dropped.

“Jimin—” I choked, to which he quickly pressed a finger on my lips to stop me from talking.

“Sshh—I know, I look like hell,” he said, chuckling softly. Though the sound immediately turned into a set of coughs until he managed to take a deep breath and hold it in. “And I’ve been through hell.”

My eyes burned with tears, but I did all I could to stop them from falling. Yet I couldn’t stop myself from questioning him, “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone—”

“Because I didn’t want you to worry about me when you already have so much to worry about on yourself,” he said to me with a sad smile. “I asked the nurses to not tell you anything. I couldn’t leave my room and let you see me when I was at my worse. You need to focus on yourself, on what’s happening tomorrow. I should be the last thing in your mind to worry about.”

Shaking my head, I leaned towards him and let him took my hand in his once again. “It’s not fair.”

He smiled at me and said, “It’s only fair. I shouldn’t be in the way of your recovery.”

“You never were. I need you, and I want to be there to support you too.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here now. I’ve done all I could to get strong enough to be here today so I could see you,” he said, pulling my hand in his so he could place my palm on his cheek, giving me a chance to feel him. “You know that I will always be here to support you.”

“Always? Promise?” He only answered me with a nod of his head, but it was enough for now. “Can you stay here with me?”

Jimin glanced over his shoulder and tipped his head. “Will your guardian let me?”

I looked over to Kara’s sleeping form and smiled. “She has to.”

And indeed she did. Kara knew how much I had missed Jimin and how his presence helped make a lot of changes that she even let Jimin use the cot that she had neglected the night before so he could rest once in a while. Even the nurses had come to let Jimin take his medicines without him returning to his room.

“Told you that things would be easier if we had just been placed in the same room,” Jimin joked at Soyeon when she came into the room while shaking her head at him. His comment surprised me as I had never thought he would even consider it.

“You asked them for a room transfer?”

Jimin shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Hey, I tried. I’ve thought about it ever since you got sick from your trips down the halls at night to see me.”

I looked at him, not believing what I just heard. Never once in my mind I had considered it possible for us to share a room that I had pushed away every hope of making it happen. I was completely speechless that all I could do was hold his hand. It was Soyeon who spoke next, breaking the moment we were sharing.

“If you want, I can submit another request once you’ve gone through the surgery,” she said, while Jimin and I exchanged looks.

“Can you do that?”

Soyeon glanced at Kara who was now giving her a hopeful look and smiled. “I can ask your doctor to have permission for transfer,” she answered me with a wink.

“If Doctor Kim agrees, then it’ll leave only one last hurdle that might get in the way,” Jimin said, breaking whatever spell we were in before either one of us even had a chance to celebrate the possible good news.

“What is it?”

Jimin gave me a sad smile and said, “Your ex-husband.”

It was finally the day of the surgery.

Everyone had been here with me since this morning, waiting in the room with me. While my anxiety had peaked through the roof the day before, I was surprisingly calm ever since I had woken up this morning. Meanwhile, everyone else seemed to be on the edge since the moment I woke up and it even got worse when the nurse came in just one hour before I was supposed to be taken to the operating room, handing me the last medicine for the day.

The frown on Hoseok’s face kept on slipping out no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind his smile. Even the years that had passed during the period of time when we fell apart couldn’t change the fact that I knew my brother. That I would be able to catch on to his emotions so easily despite his efforts of hiding them from me.

He was not the only one who was restless, as Yoongi kept fidgeting in his seat. He had been silent all day, tension continued to roll out of his shoulders as he sat with Hoseok across the room.

As I was forbidden to consume any food or water, Kara found nothing to do to distract herself and she had opted to stay by my side. I had to respect her for trying her best to stay calm, though the moment she held my hand and she started praying for the two of us, it almost felt like I was the one calming her down until her fingers stopped shaking.

“It’ll be okay,” I finally said to her when she gave me yet another forced smile the moment our eyes met. But everyone in the room knew that I was speaking for all of us, especially myself, when I added, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Jimin came to my room just when it was almost time for me to go. He came in on his wheelchair, with Nurse Soyeon pushing him into the room. Everyone instantly stepped aside to give us space, allowing Jimin to settle down next to the bed, where he took my hand to hold and he could lean in just close enough to give me a kiss.

“I’ll be here until the moment they come to pick you up,” he whispered to me between his gentle kisses, then gave me another promise before he pulled away, “And I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

After that moment, time seemed to stand still. Neither of my family dared to speak, afraid that any word they said would burst any bubble that we found ourselves in, to allow the reality to sink in and take over the serene feeling we were having. But they kept hovering around me, making sure that I was calm and ready, though I felt more numb than I was probably supposed to.

It wasn’t until the moment when Soyeon returned with another nurse from our floor, pushing a gurney into the room with the help of an orderly, when the silent tension in the room broke apart.

“It’s time,” Soyeon said to me with a calm voice that did nothing to stop my heartbeat from pacing rapidly in my chest. Jimin must have sensed the change in my mood, because he immediately pulled me to him and held me tight, whispering sweet words to calm me down.

“It’s okay, baby. Take a deep breath. Close your eyes and focus on me,” he kept telling me, making sure that I followed his words until I was breathing calmly again.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I nodded at Soyeon after giving Jimin one last kiss and sending one last smile to my family.

As everyone stepped back and I was carefully transferred from the bed to the gurney, the numbness returned to me and I let myself to be engulfed in it. Even the pain that came piercing through my spine during the transfer couldn’t snap me out of it. The sense of calm felt even stronger as Jimin grabbed my hand and gave me one last squeeze only moments before the orderly began pushing me out of the room.

“I’ll come with you,” I heard Hoseok said, as if watching me leave the room had snapped him out of his trance and he quickly rushed to walk alongside the gurney as we left our family behind. The last thing I saw when I took one last glance was Yoongi placing his arm around Kara’s shoulders as she cried soundlessly, and Jimin smiling at me as he placed his palm over Kara’s hand that was resting on his shoulder.

The trip from my room towards the operating section on our floor felt like an eternity. I barely paid attention to our surroundings as we made a few turns down the hallways, focusing more on my breathing pattern as I kept myself calm, until I suddenly saw him standing not too far from the doorways leading to the operating area.

“Jungkook,” I called out to him as the gurney slowed down to a stop right where he was waiting for me. He nodded briefly at Hoseok before he turned to me, giving me a warm smile despite the way his eyes were watching me closely as if he was afraid I would disappear.

“You came,” I said, and he nodded.

“I decided I’d wait for you out here so you could have a moment with your family,” he told me, and my eyes moved to his hands, where I found yet another bouquet of white flowers, and his smile widened as he followed my gaze.

“These flowers will be waiting for you in your room to greet you once you return,” Jungkook said, before he leaned down, pressing his lips on my forehead as he whispered. “You’re going to be alright.”

His eyes were glassy with tears when he straightened up, but he forced himself to smile as he brushed gently at my cheek for one last time before he stepped back, allowing the gurney to pass. I kept my eyes on him until I could no longer see him, and Hoseok pulled my attention right before he had to let me go.

“We’ll be waiting for you out here,” he said to me while squeezing my shoulder gently. I could tell that he was trying his best not to cry in front of me, so I put on my brave face and smiled.

“Make sure to buy me some of my favourite ice creams when I come back, will you?”

He nodded and chuckled softly. “I’ll fill up the fridge with them for you.”

“Ready?”

The nurse that was going to assist the surgeons was the one I was not familiar with, but she was friendly and nice that I stayed calm despite the complicated preparations that would have scared me away. I already felt slightly intimidated just minutes ago, when I was pushed into this room with only strangers standing around me. But the thought of my family who would be waiting right outside those doors, and knowing that Dr. Kim would also be here to assist the procedure, all had done more than calm my nerves that all I had to do was wait until this moment would come.

“I’m going to put this mask on you. Just breathe in normally, and you will feel sleepy in no time. Just don’t panic, and focus on counting down or just think of good things, okay?”

“Okay,” I told her, nodding my head before I let her put the breathing mask on my face.

She gave me a smile that was hidden under her mask as I settled back down on the bed, while she carried on with the preparations, helping the surgeons and welcoming Dr. Kim as he came into my line of sight.

His voice was calm, but I barely paid attention to any word he said to me as he introduced the other doctors that had come in with him. I only responded with a nod to each time he spoke, until he instructed me to continue breathing as the only thing they needed to do was to wait until the anaesthetic drugs they had given me would take effect.

Everything around me seemed to move in slow motion afterwards. It felt as if I had left my body and I was watching things unfolding from the outside looking in. I followed the nurse’s instruction as I began breathing normally, taking deep breaths while counting down slowly, until I started to feel heavy with sleep. It didn’t take long until I finally gave in as there was never a fight in me to stop me from getting under, and I felt myself drifting away merely seconds after.

That was when everything happened.

They had all said that when you went under, your whole senses would not be able to tell you about anything happening around you, leaving you completely oblivious to what they were doing to your body.

That was not what seemed to be happening to me.

My senses were completely numb, but I was still there. I was still present. My body was no longer moving, but I was terribly aware. A thick blanket of darkness folded around me, cloaking me from the world that still existed around me. I had lost the ability to feel a thing. There was no pain, not a hint of the slightest of touches they made on me, but I knew they were all there.

My mind registered their presence in the form of shadows. Looming, hovering, moving around me while I was rooted as their center. I could feel their movements even through the fog of darkness, but I could feel none of their touch. I heard nothing but a steady hum, drowning me deeper into the darkness, though some of the voices I heard made it seem more like I was drowning underwater.

And then it happened, and suddenly, I could hear it all almost too clearly.

It started with a steady beep, before it began to rise, sounding louder by the second, and then it went faster. The humming sound around me began to rise as well, growing steadily intense. They sounded almost similar to voices of people shouting, only that everything was muffled, like everything was happening under the current of water. The beeping noise grew louder, breaking through the fog, and then louder, turning into an alarming sound as the shouting continued.

An odd feeling of chill washed over me.

And then everything went still.

Author’s note:

I’m sorry this took a long time, and I know that you must be hating me for that ending lol

Don’t worry, every single question you may have at the moment will be answered soon. We’re so close to the final chapters and I am terribly nervous about it, not going to lie. But, before we can finally get there, we’ll be having an extra chapter coming in the way.

Yes, your requests have been answered. We’ll be getting into Taehyung’s side of the story on the next chapter before we can find more answers to what had happened to all of them in the past.

Stay tuned for the next update. Thank you for all of your support!

—  © 2021 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[theresthesnitch]

Bathed in the Moonlight

A/N: I mentioned recently that I'm writing a Wolfstar AU (a snippet can be found here!), which will have an explicit rating. However, I realized that I had never actually written smut featuring two men. Which led me to the decision that I needed to practice, because practice smut is a thing that people do. While this won't actually appear in my multichapter fic, I though you might enjoy it anyway.

Rated M above the cut, but explicit below. You can also read it here on AO3 (where kudos and comments are like warm hugs).

***

He stood there, naked other than the light of the waning gibbous moon, and Remus thought he had never looked more beautiful. His dark hair fell in long, silken tresses that just twisted at his shoulders. His grey eyes shone brightly in the pale light as though incandescent in their own right. And his skin - his skin was everything. 

Remus drug his eyes along the sleek planes of Sirius's body, his skin smooth and unmarred, rolling out before him like a clean slate that simply begged to be kissed, to be licked, to be bitten. Remus longed to memorize every peak and valley, study the lines and angles with his tongue as guide. He was in awe of the man I standing in front of him, and though he knew Sirius' mind better than he knew his own, he yearned to learn the secrets his body had to tell. 

For the space of a heartbeat, he remembered that he, too, was naked and standing in front of Sirius, and he remembered that his own body looked nothing like the statuesque Adonis that stood in front of him, and for that heartbeat, Remus considered feeling shame and covering himself to hide the scars that littered his body as best he could behind his rough and calloused hands. The heartbeat passed and Remus looked into those piercing grey eyes and almost staggered under the weight of what he saw there - want, hunger, desire, lust. - and all of it directed at Remus. 

They stood there, taking each other in, neither one daring to move so as not to risk breaking the moment that was growing between them. They knew they stood atop a great precipice, and that to jump was to risk everything. Six years they had been friends. Six years since those little boys stood in their dorm room and shook hands. Oh, the things those six years contained! Numerous pranks and tricks that earned them a moniker known round the castle. Countless jokes and laughs that still sometimes echoed around the common room. An infinite number of tiny moments that seemed insignificant on their own, and yet added together, created a magnitude of friendship and life. One giant, life-changing secret that, once shared, was a burden halved. One enormous gift that granted the wolf a pack and lessened his burden even more. One near tragic mistake that almost cost them everything. One year of reconciliation and penance and, finally, absolution. And now? 

And now they stood on the edge of all of that, ready to risk it all if they could just… 

Remus didn't know if he moved, or if Sirius moved, or perhaps they both moved together - but it didn't matter now because their lips were pressed together, hungry and wanting, seeking more and taking more. Remus felt Sirius' tongue press along the lines of his lips, and he opened to grant him access. He placed one hand on Sirius's waist and carded one through his hair until he was gripping the locks at the nape of his neck and pulling slightly as Sirius' head fell back and his neck was exposed. Remus trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck, nipping and sucking slightly, eliciting the most delicious moans out of the other man's throat. 

Sirius' hands fell low on Remus' hips, his thumb tracing light circles in the dip of his skin. Remus felt his skin ignite under his fingertips, lightning shooting throughout his body and lighting him on fire. He felt a low growl grow in his chest, unsure if it was from him or some remnant of the wolf that had only just nights ago laid claim to Remus' body. He felt Sirius react to that low sound, drawing his body closer and offering more of himself to the rough ministrations of Remus' lips. 

As Sirius drew his body closer to his own, Remus felt the long, hard length at the crest of the other man's legs press into his thigh, and Remus was filled with want.

Remus walked them both toward the bed, an careful negotiation of legs and feet, until the backs of Sirius' knees pressed against the bed and they were both falling onto it, a tangle of limbs and lips and lust. Remus moved on top of Sirius, and pressed their bodies together, and both sighed in some mix of relief and need as their hardness met between them. Their mouths met again, and Remus rutted slowly against Sirius, acclimating his body to the unique pleasure of being lined up like this with this man after he had spent so many nights longing for him. 

Sirius released a needy moan into Remus' mouth, which he happily captured and replied with increasingly passionate kisses. He thrust, again and again, relishing in the friction of their cocks rocking together, lubricated by the precum that was readily leaking between them. 

They shifted, and Remus' knees slotted between Sirius' legs, and their bodies moved somehow impossibly closer together. Their kisses deepened, and Remus' hands ran long lines down Sirius's abdomen. Their hands met at Remus' hips, and he brought Sirius's hands over his head, their fingers entwined and clenched together in the sheets above them.

The silence was broken by Sirius's sharp intake of breath, and then - 

"Remus, Rem - " he gasped out. Remus moved his lips down Sirius' jaw and to his ear, where he nipped at his ear lobe. "Remus, I've never - ah - I've never done this before." 

Remus pulled back slightly, and pushed himself up enough to look Sirius in the eyes. He saw the hesitation there, behind the want and need that overpowered everything else. "What do you mean?" Communal dorm rooms do not hold secrets well, and Remus knew that Sirius was not inexperienced, having been with both men and women before. It killed Remus to hear of these conquests, but he knew that Sirius had done this before. 

"I've never - ah -" Sirius looked a little bashful, almost shy, and if he hadn't been stalling what was turning out to be a near transcendent experience, Remus might have even found it cute. "I've never been on the receiving end of this." 

Oh. Oh. "Do you want to stop? Or, um, we could do something else?" 

"No," Sirius replied bluntly. "No, I want to, with you. I just - ah -" 

Remus smiled, and returned to placing kisses on the soft skin under his ear. "We can take this slow," he whispered in Sirius' ear, and felt the man tremble beneath him. 

"Yes," came the near breathless reply. Anything else he might have wanted to say was lost in a series of gasps and moans shared between them. 

Remus moved slightly away from Sirius, granting himself the room to work. Sirius whined slightly at the loss, and Remus smiled down at him. 

"I'm going to prep you now." Sirius nodded his consent, and Remus reached for his wand on the table next to them. He cast the cleaning and lubrication charms, and felt Sirius shudder below him, knowing he felt the warm slickness fill him. He cast the charm again on his fingers, and moved his hand between them until his finger found the puckered hole. 

Sirius let out a low moan as Remus began running his finger in slow circles around the hole, teasing but not penetrating yet. He waited until Sirius was brimming with want. "We will go slow, but only when you are ready." 

Sirius hesitated for only a moment before nodding, and Remus broke through that tight ring. He stilled, only the tip of his finger within the other man, until he grew accustomed to the intrusion. Slowly he slid his finger deeper and deeper, until it was lost inside Sirius. He slowly slid his finger out, and then glided it back in again, and again, and again, until Sirius was moaning with the pleasure of it. 

"Ready for another one?" He teased the entrance again with his second finger, the tip of the first still inside, and waited for the hesitation to cross Sirius's face and for him to nod again. A second finger slipped inside, and Remus repeated the process of slowly sliding in and out. He moved his fingers more freely, scissoring and spreading them to stretch the other man. He felt his own cock jump slightly in anticipation, already seeking the warm heat that waited buried inside Sirius. 

"Another one?" Remus asked, third finger already poised to penetrate him. The nod came quicker this time, all hesitation lost to the sensation of fingers and the anticipation of what was still to come. Remus worked slowly still, despite every desire within him wanting this part to be done so that they could just get on with it. This time he moved his other hand to Sirius's hard cock, stroking him gently in time with the thrust of his finger. He moved his finger to find the sensitive spot within the other man and pressed, gripping his other hand at the base to prevent any unintentional release as Sirius arched his back into Remus' hand. 

"You're ready for me," Remus said, sliding his fingers slowly in and out again. "You're so beautiful. Let me know when I can continue." 

"Please," came the breathy reply that was part consent but mostly plea. 

Remus smiled, and found himself unable to resist. "Please what?" He lined the spell-slickened head of his cock up to Sirius' prepared hole, and gently teased the sensitive area. 

Sirius groaned under him. "Please, Remus." 

Remus chuckled, not sure where this sudden resolve was coming from. "You're going to have to say it, Sirius, so I know you want it." 

Sirius whined something that sounded almost more Padfoot than human, and the wolf within Remus roared in his chest. "Please, Remus, please." A moment passed, and Remus held his breath and didn't move as he waited. "Please fuck me." 

The tight ring opened and slid around Remus until just the bell end was inside, and they both let out matching moans. Remus slid slowly inside Sirius, bit by bit, until he was sheathed completely in the other man. They stayed there for a moment, allowing their bodies to adjust to the new sensation. 

"Ready?" Remus saw Sirius nod, eyes closed but a look of pure bliss etched on his features. Remus moved slowly at first, giving Sirius time to adjust to the sensations, before increasing the pace and pressure of each thrust. 

"Alright?" Remus struggled to keep his steady motion instead of giving over to the sensations surrounding him, wanting to make sure that Sirius enjoyed this as much as he did. 

"Remus." His name came out as part growl, drenched in passion and still more Padfoot than human. "Shut up and fuck me." 

Remus dropped all pretense and lost himself within Sirius. He lowered his body on top of Sirius', and slid his hands down Sirius's arms until their fingers were once again entwined over their heads. He plunged deeply, quickly, filling Sirius again and again, feeling every inch of uncharted territory inside of him. With every thrust, he felt the wolf inside claiming the man, the dog, for his own - mine, mine, mine. Sirius lay beneath him, arching up and pulling Remus closer with his ankles crossed behind his back, and every motion felt like a resounding reply - yours, yours, yours. They moved together, danced together, and became one in the steady rhythm of their bodies. 

It was not long - or maybe it was hours, for Remus was so lost in this moment that it could have been days passing - before he felt Sirius's breath quicken beneath him, and felt him contract around him. Remus released Sirius's hand and moved his own between them, gripping and stroking Sirius's hard length, coaxing him to the edge until he finally released, spilling over Remus' hand and onto his chest. Remus thrust once, twice, three times more until he too found release buried within Sirius. 

Remus collapsed on top of Sirius, still inside of him and sweat mingling with come on their chests between them. Sirius dropped his arms from over their heads and wrapped them around Remus' neck. He peppered kisses on Remus' head and cheeks while Remus felt his heart rate and his breathing slow. 

Remus rolled off of Sirius, feeling himself at last slip out, and reached back to grab his wand. He cast cleaning charms over both of them, and then a cooling charm for good measure, and drew Sirius against his chest, legs and arms entangled. They lay there together, quiet and comfortable in each other's presence. Remus vaguely recalled this moment was supposed to feel awkward - the quiet negotiation of how long was too long to stay entwined this way before shuffling away - but none of that seemed to matter now. There was only quiet contentment. 

Remus felt himself drifting off into what promised to be a deep and restful sleep when he felt Sirius shift next to him. 

"Remus?" Remus hummed in response, words lost at the edge of sleep. "You're beautiful, too." 

[weirdoldmanhoho]

do u have any fic recs?

Sorry it took me years to answer this! The truth was I really hadn't read many FMA fics (at least not since the FF days) and was waiting until I actually had some recs to give.

And now I have some! My list will surprise no one, I'm sure.

Soul Friends by KyberHearts

“They were not always, and simply, two minds in one body. Towards the latter part of their alliance, especially in the heat of battle and warmongering, their souls could not distinguish where the prince began and the sin ended.”

Ling Yao returns to Xing to seal his fate as the next Emperor and sets his plans for reunification and peace in motion.

Elsewhere, Alphonse Elric reconciles with the very Truth that stole his body.

I absolutely love the way this fic writes post-canon Alphonse and his relationship with Truth.

--

Damaged by xmypandabear

'"He's still in the hospital too, with the Lieutenant," Alphonse said dully. "Blood loss - someone slit her throat..." Ed stared up at the ceiling, remembered the scientist with the gold tooth, and shuddered at the image his brain conjured of the Lieutenant lying on the floor. "But Mei helped her! So, they're sharing a room - the Colonel and Hawkeye, I mean, not Mei, 'cause the Colonel can't use his hands yet, so she's helping him..."

"His hands?" Ed tried to remember.

"It's how they forced him to do it," Al whispered. "They pinned him down so he couldn't move."

Ed fought back nausea. The sense of wrong, wrong, wrong pervaded every sense of his being. How the fuck was any of that equivalent exchange?'

Love me a good post-promised day healing and processing fic. This one focuses a lot on how Al, Ed, Winry, and Roy are all doing immediately post-promised day and the relationships between all those characters.

--

Joining of Hands by ehmazing

If you're not breaking a couple of laws, is it really an Elric wedding?

Truly, the best thing about an AlMei wedding is all the hijinks and complications the come from foreign customs and marrying into royalty.

--

Legends by Elfpen

Alphonse Elric has been living and studying in Xing for a little more than a year and a half. Now, Ling has asked him - ordered him - to take on a new responsibility and fill the shoes vacated by Van Hohenheim four centuries ago. But what use are legends, really, when they're all frauds? The Son of Heaven and the Son of the Western Sage see it differently.

You ever find a fic that just feels completely catered to you and your interests? I love everything about this fic. Alphonse in Xing and the weird politics he has to maneuver as not only an incredibly skilled foreign alchemist but a close friend of the emperor's - all at a young age. His relationship with Hohenheim and the grief and confusion that comes from never really getting to KNOW Hohenheim and now having to come face to face with the lasting impact his father left on a foreign country. Ling scheming. It's all very, very good.

--

The Principle of Mentalism by The-Immortal-Moon (LunaKat)

There’s a woman with a wrench and a penchant for alcoholism, and what he doesn’t know is that she’s going to change everything.

Another fic that feels like it was written specifically for my interests. This one explores Pinako and Hohenheim's first meeting and how a rowdy mechanic from Resembool and a reserved guilt-written immortal from Xerxes ever became friends in the first place. Features Hohenheim and his one million soul friends and a young awkward Pinako who I want to give SUCH a big hug to. I love it so much.

--

We'll be Holding on Forever by zipadeea

"Hohenheim left them to save the world. But Dad loved them more than everything in the world."

AU where Alphonse gets his body back a little earlier on the Promised Day.

It changes nothing.

It changes everything.

Read this if you want to cry. It focuses on Ed and Hohenheim's relationship and it is full of pain but also healing and understanding. Great quick read.

--

ticket stubs and your diaries by nerdywriiterchild

Alphonse Elric is almost fifteen. He will never know Xerxes.

This one is short but packs a powerful emotional punch and a really interesting character study into only a few paragraphs. Explores the really interesting question: what is it like to mourn a culture you're a part of but will never really know?

--

Briding Her Time in Wait

The wedding date was set. Winry and Ling had screamed at one another for months during the preparation out of a mutual need for their childhood friend and half-sister to have the most incredible wedding in the history of either Amestris or Xing, and as a result the wedding canopy suffered from a unique blend of western and eastern traditions that left guests from both sides of the desert confused and requesting refills on drinks that didn’t exist. Still, the two wedding planners manipulated the day into running smoothly, Ling pulling his Emperor card when necessary, Winry pulling her, well, Winry card when necessary, while Ed and Lan Fan stood awkwardly around the food table making small talk that mostly consisted of complaints about automail. By the time the golden groom was ushered through a beautification process that left him requiring an escort to avoid the various women—and men—attempting to seduce him at the last minute, the guests were settled and the wedding was ready to roll.

Except no one knew where the hell the bride had gone.

I'm always a sucker for Scar and Mei's relationship.

--

One More Time, With Feeling

In the end the Elric brothers laughed over the irony: The traveller had settled to write books on alchemy while juggling two boisterous children blessed with Rockbell rockheadedness and Elric recklessness, and the settler had taken to travelling between Amestris and Xing for the remainder of his life. It came, really, with having two homes.

-------------------------------------------------------

A bird could love a fish, but where would they live?

This one explores Alphonse's relationship with Mei post-series and is VERY in line with how I picture it. Being in love with a foreign princess in line for the throne with a duty to her people and country would make for a very complicated and often strained relationship.

--

Magic and Mind by Preelikeswriting

Of all things Edward was prepared for as the day of reckoning grew near, being transported from one world on the edge of war to another was not one of them.

AKA: Edward gets accidentally summoned by Death Eaters, and neither party is happy.

(Pre-Promise Day, HP book 5)

Ok so preface: I rarely like crossover fics and I very rarely like HP crossover fics, but this one just works for me. I think what I like so much about it is that Edward doesn't just get thrown into the world of HP and join the golden trio / order and start fighting Voldemort. Oh no. He does not care about their fight at all. He just wants to get back home and will do anything he needs to to achieve that, even if it makes him look like he's working with Death Eaters or going against Harry and friends.

I think the fun of this fic is that it kind of plays around with the fact that the READER knows who the good guys are of each series and would expect them to join forces. Sure, Ed is the Good Guy of FMA and Harry and friends are the Good Guys of HP, but Ed's goals don't really align with Harry's goals and so they're not really working together, and Ed kind of comes off looking shady af to the HP characters despite the fact that the reader knows why he's doing what he's doing. It's a far more interesting take on Ed goes to HP world than "Ed immediately joins the fight against Voldemort."

The series has three works so far and I haven't finished it, but I really loved the first and what I've read of the second. It also eventually heads into Ed/Draco territory which is not a ship I would have initially read but.....kind of works for me here.

[reidecorating]

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift. 

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :) 

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding. 

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do. 

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it. 

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request. 

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door. 

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well. 

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake. 

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :) 

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

 ∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-” 

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far. 

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way. 

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist. 

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?” 

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally  drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him. 

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,” 

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders. 

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen  at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,” 

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing,  trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud. 

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come. 

[sckyie]

song: driver’s license by olivia rodrigo

word count: 2.5k

genre + warnings: angst; swearing, fear of driving, reminiscing in old memories

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: this was orignially supposed to just be an imagine inspired by the song, not apart of the song series but it fits too well to not change oikawa’s song. i also wrote this for @kybabi​​ bc i love her :D n e wayz enjoy :) (part 2)

"So here you're going to turn and he'll make you do a parallel park in the street. You remember how to do that right?" Oikawa asked as he guided you to the next turn. As you turn the steering wheel, you spot a crowded curbside.

"No, can you please please park for me? I hate parallel parking," You pleaded.

"Only because you asked so nicely," He teased.

Ever since you told your best friend that you wanted to learn how to drive, Oikawa never let it go whenever you wanted to hang out. Having you drive him around for practice and giving you tips as you went. He's helped you a ton while you drove around, the only issues you had were parallel parking and merging onto the highway.

"Maybe we should try the highway again," Oikawa said after you two switched seats.

"Are you asking for a death wish?" You joked. "I drive too slow and I'm scare to merge into lanes."

"We can practice on smaller freeways if you want," He asks.

"No," You growled.

It was always a terrifying thing to drive on the highway. You always saw those horrid accidents and feared being in one. Oikawa would always put his hand on your thigh as you merged to calm you down. Just having him be there was enough to get you to get onto the highway. All your fears just faded with him beside you.

Just having this intimate driving lesson with him was enough for you. You grew to fall in love in your best friend. A cliché thing, yet you couldn't say anything. Only you and your girl friends knew about your big crush. It was a funny thing, falling for your childhood best friend. Iwaizumi always joked about you doing so but you never admitted to liking Oikawa. What would that do to your friendship?

Today was the day, it was your test day. The scariest thing you anticipated was finally here. The thing you practiced days on end with Oikawa. The thing that could either make or break you. Today, you'd either come out with your license or you'll be walking home.

The nerves crept up your body like spiders leaving a trail of anxiety webs. You bounced you leg as you waited in the lobby looking out for your driving instructor. As your sweaty palms go to check the time, you notice a text message from Oikawa.

butthead: hey! good luck on your test today!

That's what cooled you down. A simple saying of good fortune will help, right? Sure enough, the test was a breeze, minus the parallel parking as it was the one mistake you got. You happily drove home to tell the news to your parents.

"Have you told Tooru yet?" Your mom asked.

"I'll wait until my actual driver license to prove to him I got it," You smiled.

"You like him don't you?" Your mom gestured to the joy on your face. "I can tell."

"No," You looked away from your mom as she raised her eyebrow. "Okay, maybe but you can't say anything. I'm going to my room now." She chuckled as you dragged you feet to your room.

Two weeks passes and you finally received your license in the mail. You smiled happily down at your new card as you walked outside the school building. You looked up to search for your best friend. Your eyes scanned the courtyard before landing on Iwaizumi. Assuming Oikawa was nearby, you headed towards him.

"Hey Iwa, where's Oiks?" You asked. Iwaizumi raised up his hand and pointed across to the gate. You looked over to find Oikawa talking to Kasumi, a classmate of yours.

"He's asking her to go on a date with him again," Iwaizumi says.

Again? He's done it before?

"Are they dating?" You ask.

"Not yet, Oikawa wants to ask her to be his girlfriend on the date," Iwa explains. "What's that?" He points to your hands as you fiddled with the corner of your driver's license.

"Oh," You said solemnly. "I got my license."

You waved goodbye to your childhood friend before going into he parking lot. Without thinking, you started the car and just began to drive. Out of the school and onto who knows where. Your mind grew blank as you drove.

How could he not mention Kasumi to you? He used to tell you everything but lately he'd been so distant. Maybe that's why he hasn't texted you all week, you thought. Who could blame him for liking Kasumi? She's so pretty and not to mention how smart she is. She's the class representative and she's one of the nicest girls around.

You fell for the one man you shouldn't have. It was too late to even confess how you felt. He was already falling for another while you were left behind. You felt a sharp pain in your chest as you drove by familiar buildings.

The laundromat where you and Oikawa would go to help with the laundry. You both would end up messing around and your parents would have to kick you two out. You and Oikawa would go across the street to the convenience store to buy steamed buns.

He doesn't like you.

The library where you would wait for Oikawa to finish practice so you two could study together. He'd bring you a bottle of tea and some sort of snack to keep you from burning out. Those study dates where you'd stay until the library was closed.

Give up, stop thinking of him.

The ramen restaurant where Oikawa would take you if he won a game. It was a great celebration and you two had made so many memories there. You two had gone there so often, he convinced the owner that you were his girlfriend.

Let him go.

All the feelings you had for him began to ache in your heart as you reminisced in the memories. You gripped tighter on the wheel as you saw an highway exit. "Fuck," You whispered as you merged into the fast lane. Suddenly all those fears you had of driving, just disappeared. You felt this peace as your eyes locked on the long highway. It was like, nothing hurt anymore. Your tensed shoulders relaxed, yet you felt tears roll down your cheeks. You took deep breaths as you drove attempting to stop your tears.

Soon enough, driving on the highway had shifted from a phobia to an escape. Everyday after school, rather than meeting up with Oikawa and Iwaizumi before practice, you'd drive on the highway and on backroads. It was the only thing that kept you sane when you see Kasumi with Oikawa together.

You became accustomed to the fast pace of the highways. Occasionally you'd speed if you felt some type of pain grow in your chest. You'd blast music to drown out any thoughts or feelings you had. You knew Oikawa could never be yours, so why bother crying over him, right? The thought of being around him began to make you uncomfortable. If you kept your distance, you wouldn't get hurt. You wouldn't be considered a distraction.

butthead: hey?

you: what's up?

butthead: it's been a while since i've seen you :( i miss my best friend

you: are you sure you mean to text me or iwa?

butthead: you, y/n i miss hanging with you

butthead: you didn't come to the restaurant after our game

you: i was busy, sorry

butthead: :(

you: i gotta go, ill talk to you later

Oikawa sighed at his phone and looked across the table to Iwaizumi. "Have you talked to Y/n lately?" He asked.

"Yeah, she borrowed gas money from me," Iwa says before slurping his noodles.

"Gas money? She got her license?" Oikawa tilts his head. "How long has it been?"

"A month? You got caught up with Kasumi," Iwaizumi says.

"Hmph," Oikawa huffed as he sipped his drink. He'd been spending so much time with Kasumi that he forgot about you. Or was it, you started to forget about him? He glances at the window behind Iwa and noticed a familiar car parking.

You parked your car across the street of the restaurant next to a convenience store. You quickly got out and went into the store looking for something to drink. As you began to scan the fridge, you heard the door open. "Y/n?" You turned to find Oikawa.

"What are you doing here?" You turned back to grab a soda.

"Iwa came to eat with me since you didn't make it," Oikawa says. "He's still there, did you want to join us?"

"No thanks, I'm kinda busy at the moment," You say dully. Oikawa goes to speak but you had already walked to go pay for your drink. "Later Oikawa."

"Oikawa?" He watched as you left the store and into your car. He follows suit and watched you speed off. Oikawa quickly makes his way back to the restaurant and seats himself disgruntled. "Y/n called me Oikawa..."

"That's your name isn't it?" Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow.

"She always calls me Oiks or Ru, never Oikawa," He says. "Did I do something wrong?"

Iwaizumi shrugged even though he knew the answer well enough. After Oikawa had asked Kasumi to be his girlfriend, your demeanor had changed. Iwa was the first to notice too. Typically, after school you'd see the duo before practice started, yet since you learnt Oikawa had eyes for another, you stopped.

One day, Iwaizumi decided to follow after you when school was over. He trailed behind as you walked to your car door. You pulled open the door handle only for Iwa to shut the door immediately after. You turned to find Iwaizumi with scrunched eyebrows. "What's wrong with you?" He asked. "Why haven't you came by before practice?"

"No reason, I'm just busy," You lied.

"Liar, what's wrong?" He asks yet you remained silent. "I won't tell Shittykawa just tell me why you're being so distant...and also why your eyes are always puffy."

You paused before answering, "I'm just...upset with Oikawa...and Kasumi.."

"Do you..?" Iwaizumi implied. You nod and looked at the ground. "What have you been doing since you found out about them?"

"Driving," You sighed. "Just driving...It's keep me off my mind all week. I bear the fact that he looks so happy with her and not...me. God I'm so stupid."

"Don't say that-" Iwa started but you immediately lashed out.

"It's true! I was too late to confess! And I fell for the one boy I can't have!" You felt tears well up in your eyes. "I can't even drive by certain places without getting upset. I take backroads and I avoid them completely. I hate driving by his house but it's the only way to my own. He just treats me like another fucking fan girl! I'm just so stupid for falling for my best friend." Since that day, Iwaizumi kept to his promise. Not word about your feelings were said to Oikawa.

butthead: hey are you busy right now ?

you: no, what's up?

butthead: can you help me with something?

you: depends

butthead: meet me at the library so i can tell you more :)

You locked you phone and tossed it into your passenger's seat. You looked up to see the light change to green, allowing you to speed into the highway. Your hands rested at the bottom of the wheel as you drove. The slow, lo-fi music surrounded your car as you drove which let you get out of your trapped mind.

It was a crazy thought to think that you and Oikawa were so excited to drive together. Yet now all you want to do is drive alone. You turned up the volume of your music as you merged into your neighborhood. You leaned further back into your seat as you were driving around the suburbs. You glance at the white cars lining one street leading to the library. You scoffed at the sight as a repressed memory resurfaced.

"Why do you like white cars so much?" You chuckled.

"Because they look clean and nice? Sorry I don't like your basic silver car," Oikawa raised his hand to block your face.

"I'm basic? Says the one who wants an automatic," You pretend to throw up to mock him.

"For someone who can't drive yet, you talk big," Oikawa pats your head only to be smacked a few seconds late. Oikawa drapes his arm over you as you walked down the street to the library The entire walk was filled with mocking and talking about the future. "Let me teach you how to drive, that way we could go out together more."

You finally arrived at the library, spotting Oikawa before parking the car. He watches as you easily parallel park and is stunned by how casual you are as you drove. You set out and approach him. Oikawa holds out a snack to you but you politely refuse.

"Let's go inside?" He asks. You shrugged and followed him in. Rather than sitting beside him like usual, you sat across from him. You still had those feelings for him but you couldn't stand sitting next to him. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you anticipated his next words. "I was wondering if you could help me with Kasumi?"

Ouch.

"With what?" You ask.

"I want to give her a gift, right?" He starts. "A gift that goes along with me telling her I love her."

He loves her?

Your heart aches but you decide to move past that. "Isn't it a bit early to say I love you?"

"Well, we were long time friends before we started dating and I feel like it's the right time to, y'know?" Oikawa leans forward on the table. "Can you help me find a gift?"

This feels familiar. Helping him find a gift for a girl that isn't you. It seems like anytime he does have a crush he'd come to you for advice. This is the first time that you didn't want to give into his favors.

"No," You sighed.

"No? Wait why not?" He raised his eyebrows at you.

"Because," Say it. "Because I-"

"Because?" Oikawa tilts his head at your response.

"Because I can't keep doing things like this for you," You stood up and began heading for the entrance. Oikawa followed afterwards as he could see the pain in your voice.

"Y/n, talk to me, we haven't talked in forever. Tell me what's wrong," He says as you exit the library. You ignore his voice and reached for your car door. He grabs your arm but you shove him off.

"Would you just- leave me alone?" You snapped. "I don't want to help you, okay?"

"What did I do?" Oikawa was beyond confused at your response.

"I- You- Ugh! Just go away, I don't want to see you!" Your voice cracked as the suppressed feelings began to rise again.

"Why not!" Oikawa grabbed your arm again, this time you weren't able to break free.

"Because I fucking loved you idiot!" You yelled. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you stopped struggling in his hold. Oikawa paused and stared at you in wonder.

"You...loved me?" He asked.

"I still fucking love you! God, I hate you- I just- Let go!" You pulled off him. "I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I'm never speaking to you again." You wiped your tears as you entered your car. Driving off into the neighborhood, crying at the red lights knowing you could've ruined your whole friendship.

Oikawa watched as you sped off. Those words lingered in his ear as he stared down at his hand where you let go. His mind was lost in thought, how could his best friend love him? Was he that blind that he couldn't see your admiration? "She...loves me?" He thought.

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme​ @d0llpie​ @elianetsantana @joy-laufeyson @kac-chowsballs