#he shrugged off and moped about muttering shit about any gift he opened that we bought him

[fruitless-vain]

I feel like it is potentially not the wildest idea that perhaps if you Hate Christmas and are going to be a Rude Ass Cunt for the entire evening it may be a good idea to not demand that the holiday happens at your house? Demanding that *you host* claiming that you *love hosting* and then, actually, getting mad at everyone for every little thing and overall just having an obnoxious attitude complaining left right and centre over any thing you can think of

You can just choose to not be a part of the holiday. You can be a grown ass adult and say “I don’t want to receive or give gifts this year” or “I’m not liking hosting so let’s do it elsewhere” or any number of potential communication tactics that aren’t Snapping At Everyone For Any Given Reason

You can just, yknow, not participate instead of actively ruining the evening for everyone you’re supposed to care about?

[buckys-other-punk]

Christmas Lies

Pairing: Chris Evans x Assistant!Reader

Request: I was thinking of Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans x (assistant) reader where reader is originally from another country and is living alone and is going to celebrate the holidays and made up an excuse  that she's celebrating with someone and is in the middle of prepping her Christmas eve dinner and was caught red handed that she's celebrating alone?😅😅 

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: cussing and some cliche fluff (the title may fool you but yes this is fluff)

A/N: Hello my loves! Wooo another request, I hope I did this justice and sorry if this sucks. I am a little late for a Christmas fic but hey its still the Christmas season right? Anyways here is a cute Christmas fic for y’all (Merry late Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Years!) As always please lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. This is unedited so don’t mind those mistakes. 

Tis the season right? Yeah the season for stress and anxiety. A season where people had to find the perfect gifts for one another and hope that their gifts weren’t sold out. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to worry about that. Moving to the United States from your home country over two years ago it seemed pretty lonely, but more freeing than ever. You didn’t have any relatives that lived in America, but occasionally some would fly over to visit you. Sadly this year you were alone for the holidays. Your parents won a vacation to the Bahamas for the holidays and your older brother was expecting his first born anytime now. The rest of your family had various holiday plans and wanted to celebrate in your home country. So yeah, this year you were going to enjoy your own company.

“So do you have any plans for Thursday night?” Chris, your boss asked you.

“What’s happening Thursday?” you asked looking at him with confusion.

“Y/N, it’s Christmas Eve!” He exclaimed with a big smile.

“Oh fuck. Umm, well not really.” you shrugged. 

“Well you already know my plans. I gotta go to that party my brother wants me to attend.” Chris huffed out.

“Speaking of your brother, I got a call from him asking you to bring a date to said party.” you said to the man.

“Why don’t you come with me.” he said with a smirk.

This wasn’t the first time Chris has asked you to come with him to parties. Hell he asked you every time he was invited to one, but you always turned him down. He was your boss for crying out loud, wouldn’t it seem inappropriate to bring your assistant as your date? But, you weren’t gonna lie that the man was attractive, sweet, and you may or may not have a crush on him. He’s fucking Chris Evans. Shaking your head trying to think of a cover up of your actual plans for the night, which was nothing, and rejecting his offer just because well you don’t even know. 

“You know what, my cousin from my home country is actually visiting for a bit before she heads off to see her boyfriend in Hawaii.” you lied telling the man. Why were you lying again? Right, saving yourself from embarrassment.

“Oh, well that’s nice of her to stop by. I bet you’re gonna make a big feast.” Chris mumbled as he sipped his cup of coffee.

“You know I’m not gonna quit Y/N, you’re gonna have to go on a date with me someday.” he teased nodding your way.

“Yeah whatever.” you breathed out while rolling your eyes focusing back on your work. 

*Christmas Eve*

You were glad that the nearest grocery store was still open for you to grab some last minute ingredients for your dinner. Making a random stew recipe you found online that sounded pretty good and some brownies for dessert. Right when you got home you started making your brownies, from scratch, and once the batter was complete you put it into a tray and in the oven. You went to your room to change into your black Nike spandex shorts (since you haven’t done laundry and this was the only thing that was clean) and an oversized sweatshirt you stole from your brother before you moved to America. You weren’t trying to impress anyone since you were again alone for the holidays. Heading to the kitchen you began cutting the vegetables for your stew and boiling the broth when you heard your doorbell ring. 

“Please don’t be carolers. Please don’t be carolers.” you muttered to yourself crossing your fingers as you walked over to the door. When you opened the door you saw your boss standing in front of you wearing a black suit, looking handsome as fuck. “Chris, don’t you look nice. What are you doing here?” you said without any expression to the man.

“Y/N, you’re looking festive without pants.” he smirked, staring at you up and down.

“Fuck off. I’m wearing shorts underneath. Seriously, why are you here?” you asked again.

“I ditched my brother to hang out with you and your cousin.” he said smiling. 

“Oh thats so nice of you, but you didn’t have to come all this way.” you said trying to change the subject.

“What, that's ridiculous. I also forgot to give you your Christmas present.” he stated showing the nicely wrapped box that he hid behind his back. “Where is your cousin by the way?” Chris asked, trying to peek around your apartment.

“Oh, Mel? She’s in my room video chatting with her parents.” you lied pointing behind you.

“Aren’t you gonna let me in?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Where are my manners.” you said moving out of the way for him to enter your home.

“Thanks.” he smiled as he stepped in again looking around your place. “Um, Y/N.” he said.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you asked as you shut the door behind you.

“Something smells like it's burning.” he stated looking back at you.

“Shit my brownies!!” you yelled as you ran to your kitchen. You put on your oven mitts and took out the burnt dessert and placed it onto your countertop. “Damn it!” you exclaimed.

“You forgot to put a timer on, didn't you.” Chris chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen bar island.

“Shut up.” you huffed shaking your head.

“Hey Y/N.” he started, drawing your attention back to him and not the burnt disaster. “You said your cousin was here right?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you replied, not really paying attention to him placing the burnt tray in the trash ans cute veggies in a pot.

“Well two things. One, why is your dinner table set up with only one plate. And two, your bedroom light is off.” he said pointing at the table behind him.

“Fuck.” you whispered underneath your breath as you looked up at the man. “Maybe Mel fell asleep?” you said with a shrug.

“You lied!” he exclaimed looking at you. “You sneaky shit! Why did you lie to me?”

“Because you’re my boss and I can.” you sassily said back with your hands on your hips.

“Y/N.” he said more sternly.

“Fine.” you said as you raised your hands in defeat. You walked around the counter towards your couch motioning Chris to follow you, which he did. “I lied because I didn’t want to go with you to the party.”

“Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Because. I don’t know. Isn’t it a little inappropriate that your date to a fancy party is your assistant?” you sheepishly asked averting your eyes from the man that sat next to you.

“Y/N, that’s a bullshit reason and you know it.” he cursed at you. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fine!” you said, taking a deep breath. “Honestly Chris, I kinda have a crush on you and I didn’t want to look stupid in front of your celebrity friends.” you shrugged looking away at the man.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” he said quietly and he gently grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. “I’m glad you told me the truth Y/N.”

“What no snarky remark? No cheesy comeback?” you questioned.

“Nope.” he said with a smile.

“That’s it?” you asked looking into his greenish blue eyes.

“Yup that's it.” he smirked, staring at you.

“Hold up. I just confessed to you, my boss, that I have a crush on you and you’re not goin-” you started, but was cut off when you felt lips crash into yours. As Chris pulled away your eyes were still closed and your mind was in disbelief. Slowly opening your eyes, you stared at the man in front of you.

“Umm..did that..What just?” you were slightly panicking. Chris noted the panic. So he leaned in again and kissed you. This time you were aware that your boss was kissing you. Holy shit your boss, no fuck that CHRIS EVANS IS KISSING YOU! His eyes were closed and his hands were placed at your waist. As he began to pull away, you put your arms around his neck pulling him back towards you to deepen the kiss. The two of you pulled away, your foreheads still pressed together as you looked into each others eyes.

“Wait is that your Christmas tree?” Chris teased, still staring at you as he pointed at the small tree on the ground next to your record player. You leaned back and turned your head to look at your tree.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” you asked, looking back at him.

“It’s kinda pathetic.” he joked, placing his arm over the back of your couch.

“Hey! That was the first tree I bought when I moved over here!” you yelled in defense playfully punching his arm.

“It’s cute is what I meant to say.” he chuckled, rubbing his arm.

“Whatever.” you said shaking your head. “Are we gonna talk about that kiss?” you asked.

“Why don’t you open your present first?” he replied.

“You're ignoring my question, but fine.” you huffed out a bit irritated. “Wait, did you wrap this?” you asked, looking at gift wrapped in green paper.

“Actually you did a while back.” he said rubbing the back of his head. “I was hoping you forgot about it and luckily you did.” Chris added chuckling.

“I don’t deserve whatever this is Chris. I didn’t even get you anything!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“That kiss was plenty enough.” he grinned towards you.

“Shut up, I’m serious.” you sighed and looked down at the gift.

“Stop moping and just open the damn thing.” Chris said, lifting your chin up and pointed towards the present.

“Alright fine.” you stated back, slowly undoing the elegant wrapping you worked so hard on. As you opened the present it was a box that said ‘Thank you for helping me get my shit together!’ You laughed at the note looking back at Chris.

“Open the box.” he smiled trying to hold in his excitement. You opened the box and inside was filled with confetti paper and a card at the center. You took the card out saying ‘I kind of sort of maybe like you a lot’ with a heart underneath. You looked back at the man who nodded signaling you to open the card. Inside of the card it said ‘will you go out with me? P.s. here’s $100 for you. No pressure;)’ A hundred dollar bill was taped at the bottom of the card.

“Is the money a bribe?” you asked.

“Nah, it's just for reassurance.” he answered chuckling. You laughed and took out the bill from the card.

“I went through all this work, wrapping a present beautifully, just to get one hundred dollars in return.” you said seriously.

“Well, if you don’t like the present I can always take it back.” he said upset.

“Chris I’m messing with you.” you smiled as you pulled him close to you placing a kiss on his lips. “I would love to go out with you.” you said.

“Oh thank god!” Chris exhaled pulling you close into a hug.

“I better be getting more money outta this relationship!” you teased as you were engulfed in the man’s embrace feeling the vibrations of his laughter.

A/N: This was so cliche i hate it lol. Anyways did you like this late Christmas fic? lemme know! Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! 

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @sebtheromanianprince​​ @aquabrie​ @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan @princess76179​​ @anbrax5553​​ @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes​​ @miraclesoflove​​ @kitkatd7​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​ @fandomsandxfiles​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @coffeebooksandfandom​​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​​

^please lemme know if you wanna be added/removed for future tags or if i forgot you^

[buckthegrump]

Finals Week

Summary: A short look into Bucky’s time at university.

Warnings: minor angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.5k+

A/n: This is my secret santa gift for @holy-captain​ (sorry if it’s crap) Happy Holidays @bucky-smiles​

Bucky bumped into her freshman year, literally. He was walking down the hall of the school on the first day of class, not watching where he was going and ran into her, knocking her to the ground.

“Dude!” She’d yelled from the ground and glared up at him. “Do you ever look where you’re going? Or is your ego so big that you assume everyone will move out of your way because you’re a man who is pretty?”

Bucky held out his hand for her, she took it but didn’t stop glaring at him.

“You’re not going to apologize or anything? Typical,” she bent down and picked up her things.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful,” he said as he watched her carefully. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

She stood back up and scoffed at him. “Good for you.”

He watched her walk away from him with a smile on his face.

* * *

Y/n sat in a spot in the middle of the classroom, knowing that she would probably only half pay attention in this class. Mostly because she’d taken it in high school, but the credits didn’t transfer, so she had to take it over again. 

Class was about to start and she was sitting at a two-person desk by herself and was thirty seconds away from celebrating until that boy, Bucky, who’d run into her in the hallway took the seat next to her.

“Hey, you weren’t saving this seat for anyone were you?” He asked. She shook her head at him and he pulled out his laptop and books.

She kept her eye glued to the front of the room not even bothering to pretend to take notes. She twirled her pen around her thumb as the professor droned on about the syllabus. Then instead of letting the students go, like most of the other professors would’ve, he kept them there and started talking about something that wasn’t even relevant to the class.

When Y/n’s curiosity got the better of her and she glanced over at Bucky’s laptop screen she watched as he began to play the Sims. Their table was parallel with the wall so there was no one behind him that could rat him out and she wasn’t going to. But still, Sims? On the first day of class? Bold move.

To be fair, she was seriously considering blatantly putting her head down on the table and taking a nap. Luckily, the professor dismissed class, and before anyone could say anything else to her, she darted out of the room.

* * *

While Bucky was determined to at least talk to Y/n, she was deadset on ignoring him. And much to her dismay, he continued to sit next to her in class. So for a few weeks, he would try and talk to her and she would either completely ignore him or just glare at him.

He stopped trying to talk to her as much, moving on to only greeting her at the start of class. To which her response a mere nod of her head.

It wasn’t until midterms when she was forced to interact with him.

“So for the final project,” the professor said meandering in the front of the class, “you’ll be working with your table partner.”

“Fuck,” she groaned and leaned her forehead on the table with a light thud.

The teacher droned on as she silently moped. She could feel the pure excitement wafting off of Bucky. 

Y/n was already convinced that Bucky was one of those people that liked putting off work until the very last moment. Which, Y/n was one of those people, but only when it came to solo work. When it came to group projects she liked getting things done as quickly as possible. Or at least her portion of the work.

Once the professor was done talking she lifted her head again.

“So, I think we should get together sometime this week and go over what we want to do and split up the work,” Bucky said.

Y/n looked at him surprised. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she answered. “Sure, sounds good. How about after class on Wednesday?”

His smile widened. “Sounds good to me.”

* * *

The term went on and they spent a lot of time together in the library, and once their project was finished they went back to only seeing each other in class. Except for the time when they found themselves at the same frat party.

Bucky saw her from across the room, she was sipping on whatever was in her red cup. She was glaring at anyone who walked too close to her. He smiled at her behavior and walked over to her. She gave him the same glare she’d given everyone else.

“Oh c’mon, we just spent half a term working on a project together and you’re going to treat me like you don’t know me,” Bucky said trying to sound hurt but he had a smile on his face that wouldn’t leave.

“I can know you and still glare at you,” she muttered into her cup taking another sip.

“At least the term’s  over.” Bucky grabbed an unused cup and began to fill it with an unsavory mixture of alcohol.

“Have you ever mixed a drink before in your life?” She sneered at him. “But term being over means that I have to go home and spend winter break with my family. Which will end with a trip to the hospital for sure.”

“Sounds like quite the family get together,” Bucky said adding sprite to his drink.

Y/n made a gagging noise. “I cannot stand here and watch you drink this monstrosity,” she said as she walked away.

Bucky didn’t see her for the rest of the night. He wondered if he would ever see her again, that it would be one of those things of ‘what if’?

* * *

It was a year later and finals week was right around the corner. Y/n had about a million finals coming up and she was stressed.

She’d just spent twelve straight hours at the library, she was supposed to be working on her reports or at the very least studying. Neither of those things happened, she spent almost every second of that time staring blankly at the screen saver on her computer or playing the sims.

With her laptop now in her backpack that was hanging off her shoulders, she stood in the middle of the grocery store. She felt that if she was going to finish any of the reports she had due, she needed some form of substance, healthy or not, to get her through these last few hours.

It was about two am and the store was practically deserted. The buzz from the fluorescent lights and hum from the freezer lulled Y/n into a trance as she stared at the ice cream section for way too long.

“Hey, stranger.” 

She whipped her head around to find Bucky Barnes standing there in plaid PJ bottoms and a dark blue crew neck. She said nothing only offering a nod of her head as a greeting. She went back to staring at the Ben and Jerry’s options before letting out an annoyed groan.

“Is everything ok?” He asked.

“What the fuck do you think pretty boy?” She asked through clenched teeth. She could feel the lump in her throat begin to rise and the tears well up in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

She scoffed keeping her tears at bay. “Everything. I can’t figure out what I’m going to do about my multiple six-page reports I have due at the end of the week. All of the notes I have for my classes don’t make sense. I think I wrote them in Russian but I don’t speak Russian. And now my boss is telling me that they might be laying people off. And to top it all off I cannot find chocolate chip cookie dough.”

“Isn’t this it?” Bucky opened the freezer door and pulled out a pint of ice cream.

“That’s dairy-free,” she said no longer able to hold back the tears. She started sobbing right there in the middle of the aisle.

Bucky put back the pint and a couple walked by giving Y/n a judgemental look.

“What the fuck do you want?” She yelled at them.

“Sorry,” Bucky apologized with a shrug, “Finals week.”

The couple scurried away as Y/n continued to cry. She muttered complete nonsense and was convinced that Bucky had just left her alone to cry her heart out.

Until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked over to see Bucky still standing there this time holding a different pint, both blurry from her tears.

“C’mon, I think you need a break from everything,” Bucky grabbed her hand a led her towards the checkout stations. 

* * *

They sat on the bench in the park blocks in the middle of their university. Bucky was silent as Y/n ate her ice cream. Bucky didn’t want to tell her that it was too cold to eat ice cream outside because it was the only thing that had gotten her to calm down and she had been insistent about not being inside for a bit. And he wasn’t about to let her sit outside in the middle of the night by herself, no matter how many times she told him she would be fine.

“When we first met I thought you were a dick,” she said, her voice muffled by the bite she’d just shoved in her mouth.

“To be fair, I did run into you.” Bucky chuckled at the memory.

“And knocked me on the ground, but I was mostly referring to the fact that we had to do that project together. I spent that entire term thinking you were just some pretty boy who thought he could skate through life because people would give you what you wanted -”

“Because I’m pretty?” Bucky teased as he bumped her shoulder with his.

“I was going to say ‘because you think you’re hot shit’ but yeah I guess that works.”

Bucky sat back on the bench and looked at the street lamps that lined the pathway.

“I thought you were really pretty when we first met,” Bucky whispered.

There was silence from both of them for a moment.

“I still do,” he said. He turned his head to find her staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. You’re going to get through this finals week and every other one just fine. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you became my boss.”

She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out, except a yawn.

“We should get you home before you fall asleep here on the bench.”

Bucky stood and offered her his hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet. The walked through campus until they got to her building.

Bucky started laughing when she stopped in front of the stairs to the building.

“What?” She asked.

“This is my building too,” Bucky smiled.

Y/n laughed and they walked into the building together.

* * *

Y/n had four more questions on her last final and yet she could focus. Hoping that she had gotten enough of the questions right, she filled in the remaining bubbles on her scantron and turned it in.

She walked into her building and got into the elevator completely in a daze. The doors were just about closed when an arm stopped them and she was joined by no other than Bucky himself.

He didn’t say anything as he walked into the opposite corner. Y/n wasn’t sure how to talk to him after that night in the park. But it was just a short elevator ride before they got to her floor and this encounter would be over.

However, it would seem that her luck had run out because between floors five and six the elevator stopped.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Y/n whispered as she frantically pressed the button for her floor.

“I don’t think that’s helping,” Bucky said. “Besides sometimes it will start back up on its own.”

She glared at him and turned back to the doors. 

After what felt like hours but was probably closer to two minutes the lights flickered off.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she muttered. She pressed the help button just as the emergency lights came on and she turned to him. “I’m having a terrible day because of you!”

“What did I do?” He asked.

“You can’t just tell me that you think I’m pretty and then go on and on about what else you like about me right before I have to take a shit-ton of finals. I haven’t stopped thinking about it all week and then through every test, I kept imagining what it would be like to kiss you which then turned into fantasies about just hanging out with you in a very domestic way and that’s disgusting. I don’t need this kind of bullshit in my life!” 

He took a tentative step towards her and she took a step back in an attempt to maintain the distance between them. They continued this dance until Y/n was up against the wall and Bucky was only a few inches away from her.

“You what?” He finally asked with a small smile on his lips.

“Oh don’t be so smug about it babycakes,” she snarled at him.

Bucky crossed his arms in front of his chest which highlighted just how big his biceps were, which pissed Y/n off even more. Over the course of a few days, his facial hair had grown, not enough to give him a full beard but his stubble had her thinking about what it would feel like between her thighs.

“What do you mean by domestic way?” He whispered.

“Ya know, just sitting around watching TV together and -” she scoffed. “I don’t have to clarify my thoughts of thinking you’d be a good boyfriend.”

She closed her eyes and hung her head to avoid the smirk she knew he had on his face.

“Do you -” he cleared his throat, “I can’t stop thinking what it would be like to kiss you.”

She finally looked back up at him to see the slight blush he has. Off of instinct alone, she grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer to her. She paused right before her lips met his and he closed the gap between them.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist trying to pull her closer to him and Y/n ran her fingers through his hair. Just as she was going to deepen the kiss a loud ding sounded off in the elevator and they broke apart.

“Are you ok in there?” A voice asked over the small but lough speaker under the buttons.

“Yeah,” Bucky answered a little breathlessly, “We’re ok.”

“Ok well, the fire department is on their way.”

Bucky smiled at Y/n.

“So after we get out of here -?”

“We should talk,” she finished, but she had a lot more than talking planned.

[daringyounggrayson]

the times they are a-changin’

Written for @trichoglossus, merry Christmas Kes!!

Okay, so let me just set the scene: this fic takes place during the first Christmas after Jason died, Tim is training to be Robin but not living with Bruce, and Wally’s in college. I think that’s it? So yeah, enjoy the fic!

(AO3)

“You should’ve called,” Wally says (again). “You could’ve spent Christmas with me; my family would’ve loved to see you.”

“I didn’t want to take over your Christmas,” Dick says (again). “And it was fine. I caught up on sleep, ate some Chinese, and watched an animal doc. I had a great Christmas. Really.” Well, maybe not great. There was plenty of moping and self-pity and wondering how his life had gone to shit sprinkled between those other activities.

Today was better.

“You still shouldn’t have had to spend Christmas alone just because Bruce decided to be an ass.” Dick laughs. “He is! But he still could’ve made an effort. I mean, who can’t put off fighting with their kid for one day?”

Dick sighs, sobering. “It’s a little more complicated than that.” Fights with Bruce always were. Dick says stupid shit and takes things too far, and Bruce. Bruce is an ass. But he’s also grieving, and Dick should’ve known better than to bring up Jason.

“I think my point stands,” Wally scoffs. He’s always been the first to defend Dick, even when he doesn’t deserve it. “Besides, did I mention that it was Christmas?”

“You did. Several times. But to be fair, Bruce has never really been that into Christmas,” Dick points out. And not that Dick is obsessed with the holiday or anything, but there are parts he likes. Used to like. God, how things have changed. “It wouldn’t be shocking if he forgot why I went over there in the first place.” Lies.

“Whatever. I’m heading over in a bit and we can have Christmas 2, so prepare yourself to get festive.”

“Okay.” Dick looks around his apartment. It’s a mess and there aren’t any decorations up. Not that Wally will mind, Wally’s very good at not minding things like that. Still, he should turn on the lights or open the blinds at least. Wally always gets this sad, concerned look on his face when he realizes Dick has just been shuffling around in the dark. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, babe.” And Wally hangs up.

Dick puts his phone back in his pocket and opens the blinds in the living room. He looks around and gathers up the dirty dishes from the past few days and dumps them in the sink, then he collects the empty takeout containers from yesterday and throws them out. He also grabs the throw blanket off of the floor and drapes it over the back of the couch. Finally, Dick goes to the hall closet and pulls out two boxes: one a standard, pre-wrapped box with a bow on top and the other a small, thin box that he wrapped himself. He pockets the smaller box and places the larger one on the newly-cleared coffee table.

Festive—check.

A knock on the door tells him Wally’s here and he feels a smile tug at his lips.

Dick unlocks the door and pulls it open. Wally’s standing there with a box of his own, a paper bag, and a backpack slung loosely over one shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” Wally greets, kissing Dick for good measure.

When their lips part, Dick gestures for Wally to step inside and offers his own, “Merry Christmas.”

Wally takes off his outerwear and then sets his gift on the table next to Dick’s. He holds up the bag for Dick to see. “Aunt Iris sent me home with a ton of leftovers, so we have a bit of a feast.”

Dick grins. “Awesome.”

“You got your oven fixed, right?” Wally asks, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Uh-huh. A few weeks ago. You can now turn it on without setting off the fire alarm,” Dick says proudly. “But we can just microwave it; it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, you poor confused child,” Wally sighs. “Leftovers get the deluxe treatment on Christmas 2.” Then Wally mutters in mock disbelief, “Microwave, honestly.”

Dick holds back a laugh. “Sorry, I have no idea what I was thinking.”

“Clearly.”

The two of them work together to figure out how long everything will need to be reheated and plan it so that everything finishes at the same time. Dick’s apartment doesn’t have a dining room, let alone a table to go in one, so they set up their dinner on the kitchen counter, eating it next to each other on stools. It’s delicious, and Wally made a good call by turning down Dick’s microwave suggestion. Still, it reminds Dick of what he missed out on yesterday.

(But it’s not the food really, it’s the family that he would’ve eaten it with.)

With Wally there, they manage to eat all of the leftovers. Wally puts on some Christmas music while they load the dishwasher and clean the pots and pans that aren’t dishwasher safe. It’s funny—little moments like this, but not romantic outings or anniversaries, always make Dick think about how nice it will be to settle down with Wally in a few years. Dick has found plenty of unpleasantries in the adult world, but that is one aspect that he’s still looking forward to.  

“What are you planning on doing for New Year’s?” Wally asks, drying off the last pan. “You know, with recent events and all.”

Dick shrugs, taking the pan and putting it back in the cabinet. “I’ll probably still go to the New Year’s party Bruce got roped into hosting. Bruce should be cooled down by then, and if not, he’s in public so he has to pretend to be for appearances. Plus, Babs and Tim will be there, so I won’t be completely alone even if Bruce does decide to avoid me all night. Why?”

“I was just going to say that I talked to Aunt Iris and she said that she’s more than happy to have you over. M’gann is also doing her New Year’s thing with the Team,” Wally reminds him. “Basically, if you decide not to go to Gotham, you have other options. I get sad thinking about you sitting here, all by yourself with the lights off. Especially on a holiday.”

Damn it. “It’s okay, really. And I’m not going to be alone, but thank your aunt for the invitation. Maybe next year.”

“Sure,” Wally says, smiling softly.

“You could still come to the Wayne party for a little bit. It starts at eight.”

“Will I have to rent a tux?” Wally asks.

“Uh-huh, but I can pay for it.”

“I’ll still have to wear it, though.”

“That is usually how it works, yeah.” Dick lets his fingers twirl around Wally’s hair for a second. “I’ll be there. And so will trays and trays of finger foods.”

Wally grabs Dick’s waist and pulls him close. “I do love fancy finger food.”

Dick closes the gap with a quick kiss. “No pressure, just think about it. I’m thinking of spending a few days there if Alfred isn’t too mad at me for ditching Christmas.”

“That’ll be good for you.”

Dick lays his head on Wally’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

Wally nods. “When you and Bruce aren’t at each other’s throats, you always seem lighter after a visit. And you’re always lighter after you talk with Alfred.”

Wally clearly has not been around to see Dick after Alfred’s just reprimanded him, but Dick gets his point anyway.

“Just don’t let this fight between you and Bruce fester. It’s not good for either of you,” Wally tells him.

Dick sighs and pulls away. Wally doesn’t even know what the fight was about; Dick hasn’t shared any of the details and he’s not going to. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“And I’m not asking you to.” Wally places his hands on Dick’s shoulders and looks at him seriously. “I’m just saying—and look, I’m not defending him at all, you know that—you’ve both had a hard year. You two understand each other in a way no one else can, and I think you need each other to get through this. There’s no reason to make it harder on yourself.”

Wally doesn’t say you’ve been known to do stupid stuff after fights, he doesn’t say I don’t want you to get hurt doing something stupid, he doesn’t say I know you’ve been depressed and I don’t want to lose you.

Dick nods. “You’re right. We’ll work things out.” Wally has always been good at making convincing speeches.

Wally smiles at him.

“So. Any family drama you wanna share?”

“Time for presents?”

oOo

“I have another one for you,” Dick tells Wally. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small wrapped box, handing it to Wally.

Wally takes it and tears the paper off. Lifting the lid, he finds one small, metallic object: a key. He picks it up with a smile on his face and turns to Dick.

“I know most people in our business don’t exactly need keys, but—” Dick shrugs.

Wally cups Dick’s face and kisses him. “I love it. It’s very sweet.”

Dick continues, clarifying, “I’m not asking you to move in—I know we’ve talked about it before, and when we’re both ready to be long-term housemates, we’ll pick a place together. Think of this as a kind of stepping stone.”

A stepping stone because as much as Dick wants to live with Wally at some point, he doesn’t think he’s quite ready for that—neither of them are, honestly. But a first step? Wally leaving a toothbrush and some clothes here? He can do that, is thrilled to do that if Wally is willing.

“It’s a great idea,” Wally says, and there’s this sweet emotion behind it that Dick can’t get enough of. “One second.” He stands up and zips to the front door, returning with his keys. Dick watches as Wally works the new key onto the keychain. “How does it look?”

Right. “Definitely one of my top five keychains.”

“Shut up.” But Wally’s smile doesn’t drop and his eyes are still sparkling. He puts the keys away and then he’s back, glued to Dick’s side. Just as he should be.

“So. What else do you do on Christmas 2?”

“Hmm . . . we could watch Home Alone while I beat your ass at Parcheesi?”

And doesn’t that make Dick feel nostalgic? For much of their youth, they spent winter break together, sledding and, of course, watching movies while playing the various board games stashed around the manor. God, how things have changed. But not all for the worse, Dick is starting to realize.

“I’d love to make you eat those words, but I don’t think I have any board games, actually. I have a deck of cards somewhere though. We could play Rummy?” Dick suggests instead.

“You’re on.”

They put the movie on and start out sitting across from each other, Dick’s feet quickly finding their way into Wally’s lap. An hour in, though, round two of Rummy is forgotten on the coffee table and the movie plays to sleeping viewers. Dick and Wally have wormed their way next to each on the couch, Dick’s throw pulled over the two of them. Dick hasn’t felt this peaceful in a long time. This right.

Yes, good changes indeed.

[peaceisadirtyword]

Invisible II (Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Sorry for taking so long... I had a rough time these days, that’s why this is so bad😅 I hope you like it anyway... If you don’t, I can always delete and rewrite! Y’all liked the first part so much I am really scared of disappointing you, especially when this fic is really important to me... Sorry in advance.

Btw I have already started with my Vikings rewriting! And I'm really excited with that one, I hope I can have it soon!💕

Warnings: Mentions of rape, loss of virginity, a bit of smut (not detailed), angst, drama in general. Please if this is too much for you don’t read it. Remember it’s never your fault though. Also mentions of alcohol and violence, Ivar drunk. Nothing written under the cut makes any sense. I am truly sorry for this disaster.

Words: 3538 (it’s shit and long, I think I tried to fix it and that’s why it’s too long but I failed)

I cannot put the link to the first part :( sorry, I will reblog it so enter my blog if you want to read it😘

gif isn’t mine

It wasn't like you had never been alone with a man before. It was because you had never been alone with a man who actually wanted you. 

Of course you were being polite when you invited him to your home. It was cold outside, and you wanted to have a talk with Einar to get to know him better. He seemed like a really interesting man. 

You had drank a bit, too, and you served some wine Aslaug had gifted you, and it was strong... 

Einar wasn't drunk, but you were smaller and hadn't eaten as much as him. And so it happened. 

You couldn't really remember how, but you ended up underneath him, not really knowing what was happening, and then feeling a sharp pain between your legs. Einar moaned and you frowned. 

He didn't even kiss you. He didn't do any of those things men were supposed to do while taking one woman's virginity. He wasn't as caring and sweet as he had been while talking to you. 

You asked him to stop, with tears rolling down your cheeks and your hands pushing him. But he didn't stop. He kept going and it hurt so much... 

You closed your eyes, wishing he would finish soon and leave you alone. 

When he did, he just got dressed and left. He didn't ask you if you were okay, if you had enjoyed it, he didn't tell you he was sorry for hurting you. 

When he closed the door, you sighed in relief. The truth was: you didn't want to deal with him in that moment. It was better to just try to forget what had happened. 

You felt stupid. You had been so determined to show Ivar you weren't his lap dog that you went too far. Obviously you should have stayed in a public place to find out about his intentions with you. 

You felt a sharp pain between your legs, it was just as if he was still inside you. There were blood stains on the furs that covered your bed. 

Trying to control your tears, you curled under the covers, pressing your legs together and closing your eyes tightly. 

Ivar furrowed his brow when he saw him going out of your house. He was still fixing his pants and he knew what had happened. How could you give yourself to that guy? He didn't remember seeing him around, and scoffed when he saw him stumbling around and trying to get to the great hall. He didn't even know how to drink properly. 

He looked at your house again. The lights were on, so you probably were awake. 

He thought about knocking on your door, but he didn't want to see your bed unmade by another man, your hair disheveled and your body full of marks. 

Ivar had always done a good job keeping the men from Kattegat away from you. Once, a man wanted to buy and free you so he would be able to marry you, when you were still his mother's slave. He heard him talking to the queen. Ivar managed to make that man disappear, and you never knew about his offer. 

But that night he had been too slow. As you were angry at him, you had sat down as far from him as you could, next to his brothers. And he was too busy glaring at you for ignoring him to pay attention to the man that hadn't taken his eyes off of you for hours.

The fact that you had left with him had broken his heart. But he understood he deserved it. At least a bit. 

Ivar felt a hard slap on his head and turned, grabbing his axe and ready to sink it on the face of the person that dared to disturb him. Though his face softened when he saw Floki. 

The boatbuilder giggled at Ivar, and moved to sit down next to him.

"What are you doing here, Ivar? Watching her house?"

"I was just taking some air" he answered, scoffing "There's too many people inside"

"You're even a worse liar than your father" Floki giggled again. He knew everything. 

"She left with him" Ivar frowned, incapable of hiding it anymore "With a man she met five minutes ago"

"Well, I can recall two of your brothers doing the same" Floki raised an eyebrow "Hvitserk is asleep on the bench, too drunk, but he already left twice with some girls... And that didn't bother you"

"But they are not Y/N" he pressed his lips together.

"And who's Y/N to you?"

"She's..." He frowned. Who were you to him? Not a friend, not a slave "Someone"

"Someone you clearly care about but treat like rubbish" Floki's tone dropped. He loved Ivar, but he loved you too, and never approved the way he treated you "I don't understand, Ivar"

"I don't like how she treats me"

Floki frowned.

"What are you talking about, boy? She treats you too well, much better than you actually deserve" 

"She treats me like if she was in love with me, and we all know that's not possible, so acting as if I was the love of her life, blushing and smiling, when I know she would never be with someone like me" 

"Someone like you?"

"A cripple"

"You know, Ivar, I thought you were the smartest in your family" Floki sighed "Now I see you're just another fool; stop feeling pity for yourself and open your eyes, she could have been with any of your brothers, with any man she wanted, and she chose you, but you pushed her away and now she's moving on, while you're here moping”.

Ivar scoffed, rolling his eyes at Floki's words The worst thing was that he knew he was right. 

"I would apologize to her" the boatbuilder shrugged "She's forgiving, she will forget it, but you must stop being an asshole to her, Ivar"

The pain hadn't faded away in the morning, and you were afraid you'd get pregnant. So you went to see the only person you knew who would help you. 

Helga was cooking, excited as the Ragnarssons were there again. She loved to have people at home, to cook for them and to hear them talking and moving around the house. When the house was all empty and quiet, everything reminded her of her daughter. 

You froze when you saw Ubbe and Sigurd outside, helping Floki with something. Probably, Ivar and Hvitserk were around too, and you didn't want to see the youngest brother in that moment. 

You entered the house, biting your lip and frowning when you heard Helga scolding someone.

"I can't cook if you keep eating the ingredients, Hvitserk!"

Ivar chuckled as Helga hit Hvitserk with a kitchen rag. He retreated with his mouth full, raising his hands. 

It was Hvitserk who saw you first. He smiled brightly and waved at you, still chewing the food he just stole. Ivar and Helga turned to the door to see you standing in there, biting your lip.

"Hi" you muttered, feeling as if you'd start crying if you spoke louder.

"Y/N, my dear, come in!" Helga quickly welcomed you, hugging you tightly and smiling. Though her smile faded when she saw your reddened eyes and your lower lip trembling. 

Ivar looked away, angry. He would have loved to kick you out of the house, he couldn't even look at you... As if he did he imagined you fucking that man. 

"Is everything okay, Y/N?" Hvitserk frowned, noticing how you were at the verge of tears. His brother then looked at you, his angry scowl turning into a worried one as he didn't see you smiling happily as you always were. 

"Yes, I..." You tried to smile to ease their worry, taking Helga's hands between yours "I just need your help, Helga..."

"Of course, love" she smiled warmly, taking you to the bedroom, understanding you didn't want to speak about it in front of the brothers "Ivar, please, watch the food, don't let your brother eat it"

Ivar's eyes were glued to you. He didn't understand, what had happened to you?

Helga then turned to you, and you couldn't help but start crying. 

"Hey, hey, what happened to you?" She shushed you, drying your tears with her hands.

"I'm sorry I... It's my fault" you sighed "I... Yesterday, at the feast I... I met a man... He was so nice and handsome I thought... Gods I'm so stupid" you covered your face with your hands "He told me we should go to my house, and I said yes... I had drank a bit and... Well I cannot really remember how..."

"Y/N, breathe" Helga caressed your cheek "I'm sure it's not your fault, love, come on" she hugged you "Did he force you?"

"No... I don't know, I just told him to stop and he didn't... I" you sobbed, hugging her tightly.

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault..." She caressed your hair softly "Come on, it's okay, you can report this to the queen and she will make him pay"

"No" you panicked "Please don't make me tell the queen, she'll be so disappointed with me..."

"Alright, Y/N, calm down" Helga pressed her lips together "We'll tell her when you're ready, come on" she smiled softly "I'll give you some herbs that will help you"

You nodded, and she guided you back to the main room, where Ivar and Hvitserk were whispering about something. 

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Hvitserk repeated when he saw you "Did anything happen?"

"No, everything is fine" you smiled to him "I'm just tired, I drank too much yesterday"

Ivar didn't look at you. He looked even more angry and didn't look at you. Used to his behavior, you sat down next to the wooden table as Helga started preparing a infusion with some herbs you recognized. They were the ones the healers gave to women to avoid pregnancy. 

You excused yourself after drinking it, thanking Helga and saying goodbye to Hvitserk with a smile. Ivar kept ignoring you. 

At least until you left the house. 

"Y/N!" 

It was the first time you heard your name on his lips. He always called you slave or christian. 

"Yes?" You blinked twice before answering, confused "Ivar?"

"I heard you"

"What?" 

"I heard you talking to Helga" he clenched his jaw "It serves you right for fooling around with men you barely know" he spat and you frowned "If you were careful and stopped being so nice to everyone this wouldn't have happened and I wouldn't have to fight some guy now"

"Excuse me?" You felt the urge of running away from there and go home to keep crying, but you already had had enough "Look, Boneless, first of all that was a private conversation, and you didn't have any right to eavesdrop, who do you think you are?" You snapped, and he narrowed his eyes. It was the first time you talked back to him "And second, you're saying it's my fault for being nice? I'm sorry I'm not a heartless asshole like you, Ivar, not all of us have that gift of being so unpleasant to everyone. And I didn't ask you to fight anyone! If I went with him was mainly because you were being cruel with me, as always, and I wanted to make clear that yes, I might have been in love with you, but I have some dignity and enough self-esteem to realize you don't deserve me or my attention" you yelled. His eyes were wide in surprise and... was that pride?

"So leave me alone and I swear if you hear my private conversations again I will cut off your ears, even if it's the last thing I do!" You scoffed and turned around to go home, proud of standing up to him. 

Ivar looked at you speechless as you got away from him. Immediately regretting some of the things he said to you. His rage should be focused on the guy who forced you, not on you. 

But he couldn't help it. He saw you smiling to him, blushing. The same way you did whenever he entered the room. 

Did that mean that you were over him?

No, you couldn't possibly forget him in some days. He sighed. Floki was right. He cared about you, but... He obviously wasn't enough for you. He had made you cry more than once, Sigurd was right, you deserved someone who could make you happy and... He only made you miserable. 

_-_

"Don't you think he has had enough mead already, Hvitserk?"

"Ubbe, he needs it if he's going to do this"

"I don't think it's a good idea to give alcohol to an aggressive person"

"Shut up, I'm not aggressive" Ivar clenched his fists, looking at his brother "I'm just fine"

"You know, little brother, I never needed to get drunk so I could go and talk to a woman" Sigurd snickered.

"No, but you need a fucking musical instrument for them to approach you"

Hvitserk coughed to hide a laugh and Ubbe rolled his eyes. Sigurd glared at him, but stayed quiet as he kept cleaning his oud.  

Ivar asked his brothers for help to talk to you. He knew they had experience in things like this, and of course they helped him. 

Though he needed to have maybe two more cups before he felt ready to talk to you. 

"So, the plan is: you go to her house, apologize for being an asshole to her for years, then apologize again because she will probably tell you to fuck off, then apologize for eavesdropping her conversations and blaming her for being forced, and then you can tell her you feel the same for her but you were too stupid to realize it earlier, and then you improvise"

"What if she doesn't open the door?" Ubbe asked, amused. 

"I'll break it down"

"No you won't" Hvitserk glared at him "You'll insist but if she ignores you you'll go, let her talk to you when she's ready"

"Poor Y/N" Sigurd whispered, sighing.

"And stop drinking" Ubbe took the cup from Ivar's hands "You'll forget your own name if you keep going"

Ivar grunted, but rubbed his eyes before letting himself fall on his knees and start crawling to the door. 

"Good luck!" Hvitserk sounded even more excited than himself. 

You were finishing a soup for the next morning. You planned on taking it to Helga so she wouldn't have to cook that day, as a thank you for what she had done for you.

She had came to your home later that day, to talk to you and to comfort you. Thanks to her you were feeling a bit better, though you needed to be busy so you wouldn't think about it. 

And then someone knocked on your door, startling you. 

Should you open the door? The thought of Einar being at the other side of the door made you shiver softly... Surely he wouldn't try to hurt you, right?

But it wasn't Einar who you found.

"Ivar?" You frowned. He was sitting on the floor, his hair disheveled and his eyes unfocused.

"Hi" he cleared his throat "Can I... Can I enter?" 

He stuttered while talking, and blinked a few times when the lights of your home blinded him. 

"Yes..." You bit your lip, confused. You were still angry at him for what he said to you that morning, but you were curious about his presence at your house. 

He entered the house with slow and exaggerated movements. Grunting as he crawled to sit next to the fire. 

"Ivar... Are you drunk?" 

"No I just... drank a bit with my brothers" he said, his voice raising a few tones.

"What are you doing here?"

"I..." He cleared his throat again, biting his lip "I wanted to... Say that... I didn't mean what I said before... Or ever, I..."

You raised an eyebrow. You understood what he wanted to say, but you wanted to hear the magic word. 

"Yes?"

"I... Don't think it's your fault Y/N, he... didn't have the right to take advantage of you... And it's good you're nice, we... Need that kind of persons around here"

Obviously it was the alcohol talking. Ivar would never say that to you. 

"And?" you crossed your arms, waiting for him to continue with his poor excuse of an apology. 

"I... Don't mean anything I always tell you, you're not annoying or stupid, you're amazing, and I..." He blushed, and cursed, looking away from you. He just hoped he had drank enough to forget all of that in the morning "I'm too cruel with you"

"So... You mean you're sorry?"

He nodded frantically, relived he didn't have to keep apologizing. 

"Say it" you pushed, though a part of you wanted to cry in happiness. 

"I..." He growled, rubbing his eyes. He needed more alcohol to say that without dying in embarrassment "I am... Fuck" he rolled his eyes "I am sorry, Y/N"

You smiled softly. Of course you couldn't forgive him that easily, not after all the pain you had gone through because him. But it was a start. 

Ivar cleared his throat as you stayed silent, uncomfortable. It was the first time he apologized to someone and though he felt better, he still preferred to solve things with an axe and some blood. 

"Okay, thank you" you shrugged, sitting down on the floor next to him "I appreciate the effort you made by coming here and saying all of this... I would like to apologize too, you're not a heartless asshole... Well sometimes you are, but I know you Ivar" you bit your lip while he blinked in confusion "I've known you for years, and you have a heart, a big heart that you hide from everyone because you're afraid someone will break it again... If you stopped pushing people away and let us get close to you you wouldn't feel that lonely"

Ivar felt tears gathering on his eyes, but managed to hold them back as he looked to the burning fireplace. 

"It is true what everyone says?"

"What do they say?"

"That you're in love with me"

You gulped. You could take advantage of his poor self-love and tell him you wouldn't ever fall in love with him, but just the thought of hurting him broke your heart. And it didn't mind if it saved your dignity. 

"Yes" you avoided his eyes "I thought that was obvious... I understand if you don't feel the same"

"I thought you were nice to me because you pitied me" he muttered "Everyone who is nice to me is because they pity me"

"Even if you don't want to believe it, there's people who actually love you"

"I do feel the same" he shrugged "At least that's what I think, I've never been in love with anyone, so I don't know"

He wish he could stop talking. He was going to kill Hvitserk, what kind of mead had he given him? He was saying way more things than he wanted to. 

You felt your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. 

There's no way he's in love with you. 

"Ivar..." You whispered "Would you be telling me this if you weren't drunk?"

"No" he answered, turning his head to look at you "As I wouldn't tell you how I can't wait to kill that bastard, Y/N, for hurting you, and I wouldn't tell you the soup you made the other day was the best I ever had, or how much I like it when you enter the great hall smiling in pure happiness, there's a lot things I would never tell you... But here I am"

"Ivar you hurt me a lot..."

"I know"

"You make me feel worthless and stupid, you're mean to me, you scream at me when I'm only trying to help... I was nothing to you, just a plaything you liked to torment and torture, you liked it when I was afraid of you... Because you know I never talked back at you or slapped you or anything because I'm not like that... And now you tell me you're in love with me but you wouldn't say it if you weren't drunk"

Ivar didn't say anything. He knew you were right, he knew he had been the worst person towards you. 

"You say you want to kill Einar for hurting me, but you hurt me too"

"So you don't believe me"

"I didn't say that..." You sighed, you didn't want to hurt him, but you couldn't just forgive him "I just would have liked it more if you came here sober"

"If I was sober, Y/N, I would be an asshole to you, because I can't fucking talk to you when I'm sober. The alcohol at least makes me forget you're way too good for me"

"Wha...?"

"You want me to show you what I feel for you?" He scoffed, raising his voice "Okay, I will, I will show the fucking world how I feel about you"

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @cbouvier23 @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @thisisparadisemylove @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @fuckthatfeeling @chimera4plums @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @cynthianokamaria @cris101071 @radiotramp @the-nargles-made-me-do-it

I hope I didn’t forget anyone💔 I’m sorry about what I did in there, I know what you’re thinking😂 but I didn’t want to leave you without part 2. 

I’m starting to worry because I cannot fucking write properly for Ivar now and that’s frustrating.

Anyway thank you for reading😘

[kingminie]

blazing arrows | pt. 5

❝The majority calls me Cupid, but, you can call me Jimin—I believe I owe you some debts for a mistake now long overdue.❞

⌲ genre: fluff, angst, future smut, & supernatural, au.

⌲ member: jimin feat. jungkookie

⌲ word count: 7.2 k

⌲ warnings: future mature content & shit tons of swearing.

↠ description: Stuck in what seemed to be unrequited relationship with Jeon Jungkook who just so happens to be in committed relationship with someone else as well, your heart was fragmented beyond any repair. So what exactly happens when you enter your room at 3 in the morning to find the culprit of your hellish misery, counting his gold-tipped arrows on the foot of your bed—wings outstretched and all?

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ongoing

a month later.

"You look happy."

If Min Yoongi's looks could kill, there was no doubt Kim Taehyung would've been dead on the spot. Face planted on his damned two packet Splenda, two quarter teaspoon vanilla, and three spoons of cinnamon induced complicated ass coffee, you hoped to yourself as you stared incredulously at the boy across you, wondering how preposterous his previous remark was, no doubt a meme-worthy expression plastered on your face, own mug stopping midair.

"Well, I didn't exactly spend my time moping and crying myself to sleep, Tae, for your information," you rolled your eyes, putting down the glass on the table, Where the hell was Park Jimin?

"I just thought—y'know, it's been like a month since—"

"Shut the fuck up, Taehyung," Yoongi groaned, "Doesn't mean she got her heart broken she has to deal with that shit, crying and isolating herself from the rest of the human race, which, if I'm not mistaken, something you did when that girl from your university who you claimed to be your girlfriend asked who the fuck you were."

Taehyung pouted, scooting himself closer to the window to distance himself from Yoongi who was rolling his eyes, the younger one protesting all his might to defend his close-to-none dignity. Throwing your head back, you were left with nothing to do but laugh at Yoongi's mock expression to Taehyung who was muttering incoherently about how he ended up with friends that has a rock for a heart and another with a solid fucking ice.

What Taehyung said after all hit you. If the circumstances would have been different and whatever happened with Jungkook, well, happened, you would've been miserable as miserable could ever get—you wouldn't have been happy and probably soothing your heartache away with nothing but series marathons that would probably run for three days without the word "sleep" in your vocabulary, enveloped in a sea of trash of junk foods and several tubs of ice creams, along the undoubtedly snot-filled tissues you would have thrown wherever and the long list of missed calls and gazillion unread messages from friends and family that wondered if you had disappeared from the face of the Earth.

And it really would've been like that if it weren't for a certain sweet fluffball named Park Jimin.

Days ensuing that one shitty day, Jimin had tirelessly made sure that not even a drop nor a faint trace of sadness was made known to your haze-filled brain; cooking you breakfast every morning—despite your fervent request for him not to after finding the numerous stack of burnt pancakes on the garbage bin and how the kitchen was absolutely and utterly trashed—but you were really grateful for the mini pancakes that had whipped cream on top, shaped into miniature eyes and lips that smiled at you every morning, taking home take-out coffee from your favorite coffee shop that was not even remotely close to your neighborhood after his so-called "jog" that has fallen into his tight routine now, along the bag of chocolate cookies that was sold on the other end of town from where the cafe was, little notes attached at the bag with Jimin's adorable scribble of a handwriting and the tiny animations he never forgets to put in the corner.

As much you deemed it corny and a little bit cliched, you can't deny that the numerous random little notes that Jimin leaves every where in the house—may it be in the corner of the milk carton inside the fridge—the little notes now had their own little space in the corner of your dresser box.

"Have you ever talked to him? You know, since then," Yoongi asked, biting on to his brownie.

"Twice," you shrugged, "The last one was last night actually. He asked me about our Christmas party tonight. The little fuck actually asked if I was fine with him being around, like shit, we've always celebrated Christmas together, like hell would I let out little falling apart break that. And, this is where it gets interesting. He asked me about you two shitheads. Have you been ignoring him?"

"I'm not," Yoongi was quick to answer, hands raising in defense, "I'm genuinely busy to answer to his invitations for a quick dinner with Namjoon and the two geese. That question must be directed to Taehyung alone, not me."

You knew Taehyung was about to protest but sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat, "Yeah."

"Kim Taehyung—"

"Before you lecture me about that, let me explain myself," he gulped down the rest of his drink, slightly choking in the process. Typical, "I really can't face him, (Y/N). I can't hangout with him because all I'd see is you breaking down all over again because of him. And despite what you think of me being the tender, little Taehyung who can't pack a punch, I'll do a number on his face if I ever see him without me confirming that you were like okay okay."

Touched was an understatement because hell, you were moved by Kim fucking Taehyung, "Tae, he's your best friend too and it's not really his fault, you know."

"I know. But you're four years more of a best friend before I met him," he shrugged, "Despite the fact that I always nag you, you're basically my sister—so call it a brotherly instinct, if you must."

"Who knew you're such a mush?" Yoongi groaned beside him, overcoming the surprise you didn't miss earlier, "But yeah, the kid's right somehow. I'm closer to you than I am to Jungkook, so even though I'm trying not to be biased, I hate it. I don't hate Jungkook, obviously, but I do hate your feelings for him because well, they hurt you."

"And you talk about me being a mush."

"Suck my ass."

"I've heard enough shit coming from your mouth, so no, thank you."

"Screw you."

"You want to?" Taehyung had the boxy smile on his face, amusement rolling off of him as he saw how much Yoongi was getting riled up.

"Stop," you laughed, feeling your stomach starting to hurt from the amount of laughter you have been doing for the past two hours you've been with the two dorks.

Your friendship with Yoongi and Taehyung had always been like this since day one; snarky comments thrown back and forth, curses soaring towards each other like heavy bullets, and the never ending sarcastic exchanges that seemed to be on a loop once it starts—but despite how they can be too much of an asshole and prank-loving jerks, they've always got your back no matter what and you couldn't be anymore thankful for having been given a Min Yoongi and a Kim Taehyung in your life.

"Aren't we supposed to go gift shopping?" Taehyung whined, "What are we still doing here?"

"I will not in a million years go shopping with you again," you snorted, "Yoongi will go with you."

"Oh, such a privilege." Yoongi rolled his eyes before picking up his phone, "We'll leave once Jimin arrives. Where is he anyway?"

"I don't know, he texted me that he was near though. Had to drop by at home for something."

In a second, Taehyung was gasping—really, he just looked like an alien (which he really is) gasping for whatever shit he was breathing for on Earth—looking at you as if you had set all his Gucci products on fire, "He has a phone? The jerk actually has a phone?"

"Calm your Gucci clad ass. He just got it last week," you chuckled, "and for the record, he sent you a text which you never bother to reply to, by the way."

Taehyung had his eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through his phone, "No, he didn't. I didn't receive anything from that—oh."

"Yeah," you rolled your eyes, "Oh."

"You're still living together?" Yoongi smirked, that damned knowing smirk of his you wanted nothing but to slap out his face.

"He's a company worth keeping," you shrugged, "So don't expect him to disappear for a long while."

After a hundred more snappy comebacks, you resorted to scroll through your social media, keeping your asshole comments to yourself because you were really trying to be a good person lately. You really just had to scoff at that thought. Feeling a little bit unsatisfied at how the new cafe's coffee tasted—it was somewhat good but not that good (for you, anyway) that you felt like actually crossing the street, order a Dunkin' coffee, and enter back to satisfy your coffee-claimed heart.

Shopping in mind, you thought how today's going to be a long, long day since you haven't even bought a single flipping present for tonight before turning to Taehyung who was playing with the straw, "I hope you know that I wouldn't be buying you any more present after the one I gave you on your birthday. I nearly went broke with that one, mind you."

"It's okay," Taehyung grinned, almost depicting a small child, "Yoongi—"

"Oh no, you shit, don't start with me. I wouldn't be buying you any thing worth more than a dollar."

"Ah, I'm sorry I'm late," you weren't even surprised to say the least when Jimin popped out out of nowhere, plopping down on the seat beside you before handing you a cup of coffee. If it was possible to smile even bigger after seeing Jimin, you did.

Jimin gave a complicated handshake both to Yoongi and Taehyung in greeting—which you find yourself laughing to because since when did the three become so close they had a handshake? You opened the lid of large plastic cup, inhaling the familiar scent of coffee you've always loved and practically inhaled the coffee.

"Shall we go?" You looked up, eyebrows raised as you sloshed the cup around.

"You better buy me a good gift."

"After you suck Yoongi's ass, I will."

His eyes never left yours as laughter passed your lips as the wind breezed past his face, invigorating and gelid as it settled upon his skin, the amount of adrenaline bobbling through his veins in rushing waves as you swung him higher and higher with every forceful push wielded on the rattling chains behind, his hair inlacing in a complex tangled mess, soaring along the soft caress of the blowing wind that surrounded the both of you, but he didn't care���he was having fun. He was in his happiest with you.

Gesturing towards the broad unoccupied space on the swing set beside him, you stare at the idle camera in Jungkook's hands before sitting on the swing yourself, complaining as the unmistakable flash caught you by surprise. He held it away from his face for a few seconds, staring at the miniature screen with his wide grin before practically shoving the whole thing in your face, "Kookie! Delete that, I look like shit."

"How dare you," Jungkook scoffed, "My camera has no space for shitty portraits."

"Exactly!" You stressed, throwing yours hands in the air but the unmistakable trace of laughter still lacing your tone nonetheless, "All you have in your fancy camera are beautifully taken photos of beautiful scenery and beautiful little objects so please, delete my pho—"

"If so, you deserve to be here then," Jungkook mumbled, looking through his photos which was indeed filled with portraits of nothing else but the sunsets and unbelievable structures of the different places he has been to, your picture being the only one of the candid portrait on his camera.

Jungkook missed the way your blood spread all over your face, how your body suddenly felt hot despite the fact that it was in the middle of Winter. You suddenly stood up from the swings, going behind him and suddenly pushing his own swing forcefully that he nearly fell off at how high he was.

As soon as he had both his feet on the ground, he wasted no time and chased you, laughing his ass off when you tripped by yourself and got a mouthful of snow in return. Still chuckling to himself, he jogged over to where you were, unmoving and motionless as you tried to decipher why you had an asshole for a best friend, offering his hand for you to grip on.

When you were steady on both feet, you were immediately pulled into a playful headlock by a rabbit—yes, Jungkook—leaving you to struggle to grip whatever you can from him. Jungkook snorted, noting how pathetic you look as you tried to reach his hair before finally letting you go and ruffling your hair, "Merry Christmas, you dork."

Jungkook stared at the portrait pinned on his photo board, the only photo in his wall that contained a person in it—hell, not even his girlfriend had a spot on that wall—letting out a small smile at how adorable his best friend had looked, hair spewed everywhere as little dusts of snowflakes fell all over you. Letting out a sigh, he unpinned the photo from the board before just simply staring at it and glancing towards his phone in doubt—the urge to call you surging through his systems in rash torrents, "Merry Christmas, you dork."

He relished on the silence for a while, just staring on the portrait on his hands until he heard his door creak open after three consecutive knocks, his girlfriend's head poking through the small gap with a toothy grin. Laughing, Jungkook plopped down on the foot of his bed after pinning the photo back up, waiting for her to fully enter his room.

Ji Eun adorably jumped from the hallway to his room, hands thrown in the air with a bright smile as she modeled her bright red reindeer sweater—Jungkook knew no doubt that another pair was hidden somewhere in her somewhat magical purse that seemed to be bottomless—with a few bags on her arms.

"Tada!" she chuckled before launching herself to Jungkook who was laughing as he wrapped his arms around her, "Merry Christmas, Jungkookie."

"Merry Christmas to you too, crazy," he ruffled her hair as she made herself comfortable on his chest, "I love you."

"And I you, baby," she tightened her hold on him for a while before finally pushing herself off of him, "Since you've given me my present yesterday even though we said strictly no presents, I think it's just fair if I give you mine now. I know you'll really love it since I'm sure you told me he was your favorite."

Jungkook sat up on the edge of his bed, watching his girlfriend as she lifted the huge wrapped box from his floor, holding it out to him with an excited grin which mirrored Jungkook's own as he too was elated to know what was inside the box, a clear idea of what was inside already making its way through his head as he shook the box.

If this is the Iron Man limited set I've been talking about for the past months, then shit, Im ready to marry this girl, he thought to himself as he slowly ripped the blue wrapper, the familiar Marvel label immediately waving at his face and he nearly burst into unending tears.

Happiness seemed to danced all over his blood as he slowly ripped the wrapper all the way down, his heart threatening to burst through his chest, making him mentally scoff at himself at how exactly a twenty-something-year-old man could be so excited over a toy. But to Jungkook, Iron Man wasn't just a fucking toy.

Although, at the next second, similar to the amount of happiness that singed his skin was the very same amount—if not, more—of disappointment that washed all over him like he was being suddenly rubbed with ice personally shipped from Antarctica, as he stared at the print on the box.

Captain America.

Fucking Captain America.

His girlfriend got him a Captain America set despite the fact that he had whined fucking Iron Man repetitively when they were together.

And if wasn't obvious with the figurines and stuffed toys decorating my room, then fuck me, he thought to himself as he stared at the blue toy set before his glance roamed all over his room that was basically overflowing with Iron Man stuff; all he needed to do was to change his room wallpaper into a portrait of the character and his room could be considered a museum for Iron Man.

"This is...wow, thank you, babe," Jungkook stared at his girlfriend's face that was full of apprehension and hope that he couldn't find it in himself to show his disappointment. I was needing a bit of blue in the sea of red, I guess, he thought to himself.

"You like it?"

"I love it," Jungkook grinned, pulling his girlfriend into a hug before plopping down on his back, still tangled with Ji Eun, "Are the rest of the presents for tonight?"

"Yeah," Her voice was muffled as she pressed light kisses unto Jungkook's neck before pulling back so that she could properly see his face, "I hope (Y/N) likes what I bought for her, though, since that dork really doesn't like receiving anything extravagant and it's the only thing I know for sure she'll love."

"Hm, really?"Jungkook swept a strand of hair from her forehead, "What is it?"

"Iron Man."

I'm the one who likes him, Jungkook bit his inside cheeks, She's the one who likes Captain America.

Before he could utter anything, his phone chimed from the nightstand, Ji Eun rolling on the bed before closing her eyes as she settled on the pillows.

He didn't seem to believe that you texted him as he stared down on his phone, counting down the zero messages you have dropped him for the past couple weeks and maybe the two phone calls you actually gave him that lasted barely a minute. So, knowing that, a miracle was what it was when your contact name appeared on his home screen, along the notification that you had sent a message.

[2:26 P.M.] my loser: Hey Jungkook! Just letting you guys know that the party will start earlier than usual. Make sure to be by my house at 7. See you.

[2:27 P.M.] my loser: Don't be late! Hah.

[2:27 P.M.] my loser: :)

Seeing your message, Jungkook thought that it would've been actually better if you hadn't. How you formally constructed the message—which you never use with him—shown through your text; proper capitalization, punctuation, and all that shit. Along with the fucking smiley he knew you really forgot and just added just so that he wouldn't think anything else of it, and what the fuck was a "hah"—if it was supposed to be laughter then screw that crap because the period at the end ruined it.

He knew it was immature and stupid to notice the littlest things like this but then again, how could he help it?

[2:30 P.M.] Jungkook: wouldn't even dream of it :)

He lost track of time on how long he stayed standing in front of his bedside table, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the screen of his phone as he waited for a reply, forgetting that his girlfriend was inside his room, leaving her to stare after his back as he sighed that his hopes were let down once again—not by you but by himself.

[3:01 P.M.] Jungkook: Merry Christmas, loser.

Sighing once again, he was literally close to throwing his phone when sixteen minutes had passed, yes, he actually counted.

"Babe, are you okay?"

Jungkook turned around, flashing Ji Eun what supposed to be a reassuring smile, "Yeah, don't wo—"

He was cut off with the sudden vibration of his phone, his eagerness surprising both him and Ji Eun.

[3:18 P.M.] my loser: merry christmas, dork.

Sixteen minutes was worth it.

"Aye, love, the wise men followed the star—"

Laughter bubbled from the pits of your chest as you stared at Jimin who was grinning wildly as he bounced around the living room, leaving you to wonder how such a small fluffball can have so much energy, his freaking infectious damn smile seemed to reach the heavens as belted out the lyrics along the loud music emitted by the speakers, your round hair brush gripped tightly on his hand as he seemed to have his own concert—and quite frankly, if it was one, you'd probably sell your own house and buy a ticket because Park Jimin has a voice, that type of singing voice that'll sing the song you hated the most but you'd gladly let him sing it just so you could listen to his voice forever.

You couldn't help but stare after him as he pranced around, a smile you did not know was there finding its way in your face as you leaned your head on the banister while you sat on the very last step of the stairs, sipping your own eggnog.

"The way I followed my heart," Jimin shook his eyebrows teasingly as he gave you a pointed look, taking slow steps that was in sync with the beat of the music before gently gripping your wrist to pull you up.

"And it led me to a miracle."

Jimin gently tapped the tip of your nose, leaving you quite breathless and stunned as both his hands reached up to casually clasp your neck, just underneath your jaw, his thumbs slowly pushing your head back that you would be able to look into his face. You bit your lip in apprehension as he stared you down, a smile taunting his lips but you knew he was holding it back.

"What are you doing?"

"Aren't you my miracle then?" Jimin teased, his familiar chuckle making its way out.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly pushing on his chest to let you go, feeling somewhat overwhelmed with the almost non-existent distance between your bodies, along the flipping warm touch of Park Jimin that warmed your body more than the crackling fire beside you did, "You followed where your arrow took you, idiot, and I don't exactly see you as one of the wise men."

"You're mean," Jimin pouted, immediately laughing right after he tangled the microphone, hairbrush rather, on your hair, mercilessly rolling it around until your hair was basically ripped out.

"Jimin," you whined, pulling on the end of the brush, "Everybody's on their way and I really won't be surprised if someone would burst through the doors in two seconds and you just have to go and do this. Ow, what the hell."

He was full-on laughing by then, bent over and clutching his belly as his eyes turned into tiny moon crescents carved on his face, high-pitched breathy laughter escaping his mouth that instead of you getting angry, you unintentionally let out a snort, laughter knocking on the doors of your trembling lips.

"Come here you," your eyes widened when he straightened up, standing so close that the tip of his shoes firmly touched the edge of yours, pulling your raised elbows as you tried to untangle the knots in your head, losing your balance at his unexpected action and all of the sudden, all you could hear was the blood rushing altogether on your face and the heavy pounding of your heart against your chest as you stayed frozen on the spot, forehead basically fucking glued to his chest, the only thought running through your head was that Park Jimin smells fucking heavenly.

And that his chest was practically rock that you feel a bump coming on your head.

And that you probably look stupid with your arms awkwardly raised midair.

And the deadly-flipping-fact that Park Jimin's hand were on your fucking waist, holy shit.

Your hands, which seemed to have a mind of their own—let's just say that for the preservation of your pride and dignity, falling down to grip the sides of his sweater, tightly gripping it that you were sure little holes would be present if you removed your hand, "You bastard, get your hands off me." I'll die if you don't.

You felt his chest and shoulders shake, clearly knowing that the jerk was laughing.

"Stay that way," Jimin surprisingly exclaimed when you made a move to lift your head—which still had the brush violently attached to it, "I'll remove it—do not move your fingers further."

Your eyes narrowed on the floor as you stopped wiggling your fingers on his sides, slightly digging it into his skin, feeling him stiffen underneath and you grinned, "Are you ticklish, Chim?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

You started to repetitively poke on his flesh, feeling him stiffen even more if that was possible, sliding your hands just a little bit further up before harshly poking, a loud grunt emitted from Jimin and you laughed, "Okay, I'll stop—who am I kidding? I'm not stopping until you admit—"

"Fine, yes, I have a funny spot there, geez, you're so annoying," Jimin huffed, gently pulling on your hair once again.

"Now, that's more like it," you grinned, satisfied. You finally decided to wrap your hands around his waist, intertwining your fingers behind him. Why? You didn't know either.

"We might need a scissors for thi—"

"Fuck no," you nearly cried at the thought of him snipping your locks alone, "I will cut your wings in your sleep, Jimin, I'm not even kidding."

He laughed, patting the top of your head, feeling no more pain from where the brush was, "I don't think we have another choice for this, (Y/N)," He then made a move to walk towards the kitchen but you tightened your grip around him, and there's no explanation nor description to what you were doing because you were straight up hugging him by now, eyes shut tightly on his chest that you missed how he bit the insides of his cheek to stop the grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

Jimin leaned back, amusement pooling his eyes as he stared at the top of your head, "Wow, I didn't you know liked me that mu—"

His stupid remark was once again cut off—this time, though, it was not by you much to your horror—by the front door suddenly hitting the wall as it burst open, a chorus of definitely not just one person echoing throughout the living room.

"Merry Christma—oh, whoa whoa." Fucking Kim Taehyung.

"Well, hi there." Fucking Kim Seokjin.

"Having fun, you two?" Fucking Kim Namjoon.

"Eh heh hey!" Fucking Jung Hoseok.

"Oh." Fucking Jeon Jungkook.

Your grip on Jimin loosened the next second, jumping apart from him like he was suddenly on fire and he suddenly retracted to his shell, smiling shyly towards your clearly amused guest before rolling your eyes, "It's not what you think it was. Come in you bastards—oh, hello, Ji Eun, it's a surprise seeing you tonight."

You could feel several eyes on your skin, actually, you could feel all their eyes on you as you greeted the latter with a genuine smile, "Yeah, it's quite a surprise for Jungkook and I too, my parents are still stuck on their business trip so I'm left alone to fend for myself this Christmas but your best friend became Superman all of a sudden. I hope you don't mind?"

It has been tradition for you and the rest of the boys to spend the actual Christmas day after spending it with the individual's family the day before, and for the past years, Ji Eun had always spent it with her family since they were traveling businesspersons and Christmas holidays were only one of the rare days they would be complete inside the house.

But not this year, I guess, you thought to yourself.

"I really don't," you laughed, shaking your head, "You're more than welcome here, you know that."

"Thank you," she smiled back before noticing some of the presents on her hand, "Where should I..."

"Oh, it's okay, I'll—"

You were cut off by Jimin suddenly appearing on your side, "I got it."

He placed the presents underneath the Christmas tree, along with the presents of the rest of the boys, arranging it in order with the help of Namjoon who was on his knees, passing around the boxes to arrange on the red reindeer mat.

Despite your protests, Ji Eun assured you that it really was okay, so, defeated, you watch her walked towards the boys who were arranging the presents before squatting down herself and asking Namjoon what help she could offer. Jeez, could she be any more of an angel?

"Now, mind telling what was that back there with Jiminie?" Taehyung was suddenly on your side, eyebrows raised and a smirk grazing his face.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing, Taehyung," you rolled your eyes—remembering so suddenly that the hair brush was still stuck to your head and you nearly slapped yourself, "As you can see, a hairbrush is stuck to my head. He was just helping me out but to no avail, it's still stuck."

Taehyung's gaze moved to your head and his eyebrows furrowed, "But it's not even—"

To your surprise, Jungkook moved forward from where he was somewhere behind Taehyung since he had entered, hands reaching out to your hair before the brush was detached from your head in one swift pull, and honestly, you expected to feel the sting of the somewhat harsh pull of the brush—even a slight sting—but there was nothing. Jungkook stuck his hand out with the brush, your hands slowly reaching out for it, a small nod sent your way before he brushed past you.

"Jimin was playing with your hair when we entered, you stupid," Taehyung laughed before running towards the dining room.

Your gaze landed on Jimin who had stilled his movements, hands midair above the bright red sleigh-print wrapped box, and despite the fact that he was turned away from you, you could see from the reflection on the television screen that his cheeks were raised and that he was fucking smiling and you nearly fainted right then and there.

The little cheeky shit.

Under normal circumstances, you would've surely hit Seokjin who suddenly held you in a headlock but the fact that you were so consumed in your own pool of thoughts, you didn't bother which made him look at you in curiosity, "Dinner is served, everyone! You lot better finish the one I cooked. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears in making that legendary dish."

"Well, that made it disgusting," you pushed him off.

"You know what I mean," Jin rolled his eyes, pinching your cheeks.

Right then, Taehyung came through from the kitchen like a raged bull, "Hurry up eating! I want to open presents!"

"Why do I associate with these idiots again?

Because you're one too, that's what.

Realizing you had left your own bunch of presents in Jimin's bedroom, you had excused yourself from the buzzing group who were left downstairs to retrieve them, declining any form of help they had offered since you knew you could handle it anyway; taking notice of the tinge of pink that dusted their pale skins, which of course is the doing of the one and only Kim Namjoon who had managed to sneak in some alcohol—which you turned a blind eye to considering the fact that a bottle was also clasped in your right hand.

You entered Jimin's room unknowingly, not expecting Jimin himself to be there, spread eagle in the middle of his bed with his legs hanging down from the edge, a half-empty beer bottle on his right hand and his phone on the other—raised above his face, the full light from the screen illuminating his skin which accentuated the small smile that grazed his lips.

Narrowing your eyes with a playful smile of your own, you jumped on the bed, landing perfectly on his side before sitting up in a cross-legged position, pouting as soon he turned the phone off swiftly and let it plop down on the mattress, placing his hand behind his head before taking a long chug from the bottle, eyes piercing through you as if there was no tomorrow.

In the passing months you had been spending with Jimin, you concluded that the flipping kid literally had two versions of himself since his personality changes from time to time like a damn switch that turns off and on rapidly that you felt like having a whiplash every single time he switched from one version of him to another.

And all night long you and the rest of the group had been seeing and talking to Chim—as what you'd like to call the first version of him—the shy, cheeky, and aloof little fluffball you had first seen in your bedroom at three in the freaking morning months back; the one who could barely give you any eye contact the first few weeks but then transformed to what seemed to be a reincarnated two-year-old in Cupid's body after a while.

But now? This was fucking Park Jimin.

Jimin panty-dropping Park who was a straight up god damned walking sex on legs—he's named Eros, the handsome and irresistible one somewhere else in the world for crying out loud—that makes you mentally drop to your knees, hands clasping together in prayer in enormous gratitude to the heavens above your roof that someone like Jimin actually existed in reality.

Fucking Cupid, why did he have to be this fine?

"You're going to stare at me the whole night? Or..." He casually threw his head back, his throat moving along as he swallowed the liquid, and with the rate your eyes followed every single move of his muscle, you could practically see the alcohol running down his throat behind his skin. Holy mothershitter.

"I wasn't staring at you, you vain lord," you muttered despite his snort and before he could catch you shamelessly staring once again, you turn your attention on his discarded phone, picking it up to stick your nose into whatever business he was doing before you went inside, only to be barred with freaking password, "This annoyi—what the hell, you kept this wallpaper?"

Jimin cracked one eye open, training it on the screen before chuckling, "Don't even think of changing it."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," you grumbled, staring at the photo.

It was a photo of you—a very shitty one at that—he had snapped when he was just trying out his phone for the first time after he had bought it. You had been in an animal onesie and you had been in the middle of ceaselessly stuffing food into your mouth when he suddenly called your name and the next thing you knew, a bright light nearly blinded you and Jimin was laughing on the floor the next second.

"I look like chipmunk caught in the middle of stealing something here, Jimin."

"You did steal something though," Jimin laughed.

"Excuse me?" your jaw dropped in disbelief, "Mind telling me what exactly? Seems like you know more than I do."

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"Oh shit," your eyes widened, finding the presents on the corner, "We have to be down like right now."

Jimin let out a laugh as he followed suit, helping you drag your presents downstairs, only to be greeted with several amused and knowing—along with one passive—expressions. You placed the bag along the pile of presents neatly displayed beside the Christmas tree before turning to the rest, "Should I go get the eggnogs?"

"You should!" Taehyung gave you boxy grin as you glared at him before going to the kitchen nonetheless.

The steaming mugs were placed into several separate trays and there were still some left on the microwave since Taehyung would undoubtedly ask for a second and a third mug, bowls of popcorn placed on the side since you would be having a Disney marathon probably until seven in the morning and you lot still won't stop, large bags of enormous sized chips hanging on both your hands as you once again entered the living room, distributing the drinks and just letting the food down on the table before joining Jimin who stood behind the couch Namjoon was sitting on.

Taehyung and Seokjin seemed to eye the both of you with mischief, making you raise an eyebrow and had you backing away once Taehyung started walking towards the both you like a lion ready to pounce before he stopped right in front of you, all eyes turning to him at the moment and everyone else seemed to be in on an inside joke once they landed on you.

Taehyung placed a hand on your shoulder and the other on Jimin's, "Ah, you two."

"The fuck is with you?" you chuckled nervously before he really pushed both you and Jimin back five steps backwards that your butt nearly became glued on the window, "Tae, what the hell?"

Taehyung looked up before he exaggeratedly gasped, "Uh oh."

Confused, you threw your head back to see what all the fuss was all about and you nearly blushed your head off.

Twats.

Because there, hanging and swinging happily as if to say 'it's your motherfucking chance, bitches', was a mistletoe.

Frankly speaking you had no exact reason as to why you did what you did next; it wasn't the alcohol trudging through your system the very moment that made you do something that was somewhat too out of character for you to do, or the motivational and just downright excited cheers your friends made in the background, nor the fact that Jimin looked especially inviting when he ran his hands nervously through his ash hair and the way he puffed out his cheeks as pink dusted his skin—okay, shit, it was exactly all that—so gently pulling on Jimin's sleeve, you stood on your tiptoes and then your lips swiftly landed on his cheek for a very quick second before you pull away, hiding your grin at the fact that Jimin remained stoic and unmoving—eyes wide and face flushing crimson red, his hand slowly reaching up to the spot you just kissed him.

Kissed him.

Kissed him.

Kissed him.

Well damn, does that sound good, you thought to yourself before regaining your composure. You turned towards Taehyung, raising an eyebrow, "Are you satisfied?"

Tae shrugged, "Hm, okay."

You were about to throw back yet another retort when you felt the ends of your sweater being pulled back and the next thing you fucking know was that you were a literal hair circumference away from Jimin, the contents of you mug slightly sloshing out and unto the floor as it seemed to be your turn to remain wide-eyed as you stared at the little snowman detail on Jimin's sweater, not having enough courage to look up nor turn your head even just a fraction because the tip of his nose was brushing against the top of your forehead.

String of curses flew around your head in an extremely fast rate that Flash' speed would be put to shame, just as your heartbeat was doing. You doubt Jimin hadn't really felt the raging thunder you call a heartbeat.

"Taehyung might say that but you know what? I..." His whisper was more than enough for your brain to go haywire that you couldn't even remember what the alphabets were, much less the damned, thrilling pause he had to do, "...might need just a little, little bit more."

Then his lips were on yours.

It wasn't the teeth-clashing, saliva-all-over, lets-makeout-like-there-is-no-tomorrow-my-tongue-is-falling-off kind off kiss but fuck was this way better.

Slow, gentle, and just a touch of fucking everything you needed and wanted.

Screw forgetting the alphabets and numbers and words because as his free hand intertwined with your cold ones, your brain blanched and just straight up short circuited, you didn't even know how to fucking function anymore.

Jimin was the first to pull away, a low chuckle escaping his lips before quickly ducking down once again to press his lips quickly just like you had when you had kissed him on the cheek.

Now you were convinced you were in heaven.

But then again, this was you—the girl who never fails to have at least one Friday-the-13th-esque mishap in a day, the girl who has the worst of luck that happiness just seemed to stay for a few minutes before jumping out the window and disappearing midair. So of course, just when things were going on the right track, the inevitable comes and fucking sweeps the joy right under your nose; just in a snap of a finger.

It happened too fast—so damn fast that you hadn't comprehend the shocked choke of Ji Eun when Jungkook stood up before turning around on his seat, jaw clenched so tight that you became afraid he was going to smash his teeth together.

Unlike the overrated movies, everything else didn't move in slow motion just like you were desperately praying for when Jungkook's fist made brutal contact with Jimin's, the latter who was not expecting the blow staggered on his feet as he clutched his now-bruising pale skin, eyes staying glued on the floor as the shock registered upon him.

"Jungkook!" Complete and utter horror was written all over Ji Eun's face as she stood up from her seat before completely blocking Jungkook's vision of Jimin, pushing her boyfriend's chest harshly that you even flinched but you doubted Jungkook even felt it with the way he was so concentrated on looking at Jimin, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Everyone else was completely silent—mouths hanging open in shock and disbelief at what the fuck just happened; Taehyung nearly had the whole bottle shoved down his throat as he stared, Jin had the alcohol running down his chin as his mouth hung open, and Yoongi being Yoongi tried to look shocked but the slight twitch of his lips said otherwise, Namjoon and Hoseok being the only ones not stupefied as they pulled away Ji Eun who was close to hysterics.

And you? Well, you certainly didn't have the time to tend to Jimin because as the latter's hold on the beer bottle loosened and hit the floor with a loud crash as the bottle shattered into little piece and you knew the night was doomed.

Because the next thing you know, Jeon Jungkook was on the ground, sporting a bleeding lip before pulling back his arm to try and land a hit on Jimin.

Now as you run towards the two in horror, you couldn't help but conclude that on this year's Christmas Eve, seems like the angels weren't the ones that blessed the corners of your house because you were fairly certain it was the demon who came to entertain himself out of your situation.

A situation that seemed to just become more and more fucked up all because of a certain Jeon Jungkook who had his feelings jumbled all over the place and a certain Park Jimin who, despite of telling himself not to, started to sprout feelings for someone he just wanted to help—not expecting for his dormant strings to attach themselves yet once again.

i am so so so so sorry for the long wait (｡•́︿•̀｡)