#i have a couple stray other gifs and my brain still has thoughts about the gold glitter scenes in this and in love by monsta x

[hotasfahrenheit]

oneus - baila conmigo [september 26, 2023]

[amimimi]

nightmares ; kyan reki

synopsis: in which Reki wakes up from a nightmare and you help him through the aftermath (take place after episode 7)

genre: hurt/comfort, angst with a fluffy ending

warnings: nightmares, panic attack, swearing,

word count: 2.5k

notes: this is sad af IM SORRY. i thought of this scenario when episode 7 dropped but I didn’t write it until recently. i'm going to do a part 2 to this post episode 11 and i promiseee it'll be a lot happier. I apologize in advance for spelling/grammatical errors.

it should’ve been movie night.

you should’ve been wrapped in reki’s arm watching pirates of the caribbean or some other corny movie, simply for the purpose of having not to exert any brain energy.

and you should’ve definitely been teasing reki by smacking noisy kisses on his face or blowing raspberries at the base of his neck.

but alas, it’s nearly midnight and you’re not doing any of aforementioned activities you should’ve been doing. instead, you’re finishing up a paper for your literature class due the next morning. reki, being the supportive boyfriend he was, offered to come over with snacks anyways to offer your moral support. “I gotta hold you accountable, babe!” reki grinned, squeezing your cheeks with both his hands.

that was nearly four hours ago.

currently, you’re furiously typing away at your paper with your legs stretched out in front of you. you were on your conclusion, trying to wrap up whatever you had written. your boyfriend is softly snoring beside you on your bed. he’s facing you, laying on his side with one hand resting on your lower thigh.

you paused from typing upon hearing reki sigh in his sleep. your heart swells and you have to hold back the urge to coo at the sight of reki drooling slightly onto one of your plushies. biting back a giggle, you set your laptop aside and snatch your phone off your bedside table.

after snapping four or so pictures, you notice reki’s brow is slightly furrowed. you still - thinking that you may have waken him up from shifting too much, until his brow furrows deeper and whimpers. your confusion morphs into concern and you realize that reki is having a nightmare.

shit. should you wake him? were you supposed to wake people from nightmares? you were sure you heard it makes it worse. or was that sleeping walking?

suddenly, reki’s eyes, bloodshot with sleep, flutter open as he rouses from whatever miserable dream he was having.

“reki?” you ask hesitantly as he struggles to sit up. he’s taking sloppy breaths, his eyes darting around the room until they land on you. “reki, are you okay?”

you feel your heart drop into your stomach when you see a mixture of confusion and terror in reki’s eyes. his breathing is now bordering on erratic but he manages to wave you away with his hand. “M’fine, m’fine!” he assured you, though his voice is slightly shaking. “you can go back to sleep, sorry to wake you”

you frown. “reki, i wasn’t sleeping. i was writing my essay, remember?”

he just stares at you with an unreadable expression. you want to reach out and touch him—or hold him or something, but you stop yourself. you’re afraid you might make whatever it is worse.

“reki, are you sure you’re alright—?”

but he’s already climbing off your bed, his movements frantic and unsteady. you hear him choke out “just gotta go to the bathroom” between barely audible pants. and before you have time to respond, the bathroom door down the hall shuts but you don’t hear the click of the lock.

with that, you’re left sitting alone in your room. you blink a couple times before hesitantly throwing your legs over the side of the bed. there was no way in hell he was okay and you knew that. never once have you seen him shaken up— so panicked like that. the look in Reki’s eyes and the tremble in his voice was enough to activate the urge to protect. but you were also scared. scared of doing the wrong thing, of messing up and making it worse.

Sighing, you sit back on your bed and decide to give him 10 minutes to gather himself. if he needed your help, you reasoned with yourself, he would’ve asked...

...would reki have asked for help?

knowing the answer to that question, you hauled yourself off your bed and tip-toed out of your room. the house was silent, save for the soft pattering of your footsteps and your parents' soft snores wafting over from their room. as you approach the bathroom as quietly as you can, the faint sound of reki gasping frantically become becomes more evident, and your heart breaks. it takes every ounce of willpower not to break the door down and you take a deep breath before softly knocking on the door.

"reki, baby?" you whisper, with your your lips almost pressed up against the door. reki doesn't answer, but he's still breathing erratically from behind the door and you wonder if he even heard you. “reki?”

no answer. wondering if reki even had the chance to lock the door, you gently twist the knobs and find that your suspicions were correct. you push the door slightly open and your heart shatters.

reki is visibly shaking where he stands in front of the mirror as he grips the edges of the sink, his knuckles white. still taking shuddering breaths, he hangs his head down, his hair plastered to his forehead, and eyes squeezed shut. he’s too absorbed in regaining control over his body to notice you had opened the door.

trying to keep the tremor out of your voice, you whisper his name to get his attention. “reki?”

he hears you this time. reki’s head snaps up so fast you swore you heard a crack. with glossy eyes, he looks up at the reflection of your face peeking in through the door. initially, confusion crosses his face, as though he forgot he was even in your house. however, confusion is quickly replaced with recognition, and his shoulders sag ever so slightly with relief.

“y/n?” reki croaks, and your lips upturn into a sad smile. he takes the sight of you in just a bit longer, deciding if he should be honest with you—if he should ask for your comfort. instead, he lets his head hang once more. “s-sorry, you can go back to bed. i’m fine”

“you don’t seem fine, baby”

reki doesn’t respond, neither conforming or denying your statement. biting your lip, you open the door wider but keeping from stepping in the bathroom. you want to make sure he’s okay, but you don’t want to infringe on his personal space.

“‘are you sick?” you gently question, watching a bead of sweat drip down his temple. his head still hanging, reki shakes his head. “no?”

“i—” reki is cut off by defeated sob and your heart strangles “i can’t calm down”.

something about his confession makes you feel like you’ve been kicked in the stomach. the only thing going through your mind is to protect, protect, protect, protect.

reki’s erratic breathing picks up again, and you step into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

“okay, it’s going to be okay. i’m here”, you state as calmly as possible. “can i touch you?”

“y-yes” reki chokes out in between rapid breaths. with his consent, you step forward and gently place your hand to his back. his shirt is completely drenched in sweat, but you pay no attention as you rub small circles into reki’s back.

"you're going to be okay, i promise" you try to convince him, but he shakes his head.

"'feels like i'm dying", he says between harsh pants. a small frown forms on your face and you reach over to brush his hair out of his face.

"you're not, reki. you're having a panic attack and i know it feels really scary, but it'll pass" you tell him, trying to keep your voice firm. it devastated you to see him so distressed and you would've switched places with him in a heart beat if you could. "you're safe, i won't let anything happen to you, i promise"

you're not sure if reki believed you, but you meant it. reki was easily one of the most loving person you knew. he poured his heart into you making sure you always felt safe and heard. and not only for you, but for everyone he loved. you recalled many instances of reki grabbing and squeezing your hand in large crowds, ordering food for you whenever you felt shy. and if you had a big exam you were stressing about, he'd bring you breakfast and walk you into your class. reki was your rock so many times before, you wanted to be his now and forever.

reki suddenly jolts and you're snatched out of your train of thought. “'m so dizzy...” reki slurs, with his eyes squeezed shut.

“i know, baby”, you murmur, concerned that he wasn't breathing properly. “can you take a couple deep breaths with me?”

reki hesitates before giving a low sob, “i don’t know if i can"

"you can, reki. i'll do it with you, okay, love?" you soothe as you continue to rub his back. "breathe in through your nose-"

you take an exaggerated breath in through your nose for demonstration, and reki shakily breaths in. "good, you're doing good. and out through your mouth"

reki lets his breath out with a whoosh, and the heaviness in your chest dissipates just a little. "that's it, baby, you're doing so great" you coo. "now breathe in again for four second and out for four seconds. i'll count for you"

reki continues to take measured breaths in time to you counting and your hand doesn't once stray from his back. every now and then, you dab some sweat off his face with the sleeve of your sweater. you make sure to encourage him between breaths, to let him know you're not leaving. this continues on for a couple minutes until reki is able to take measured breaths on his own, without you counting. you never once stop rubbing his back. he's still trembling, but he seems to have calmed down a little.

“do you wanna sit down, maybe?” you’re eyeing the death grip he has on the edges of the sink to support himself up. the last thing you want is for him to collapse and potentially hurt himself. he nods his head, not opening his eyes. "bathroom or my bedroom?"

"bedroom" reki croaks, his voice sounding shot to hell. slowly, his teary eyes flutter open and he turns around to you, still gripping onto the sink. you both lock eyes and your heart bursts with love—like springtime erupted inside your chest.

"i'm so proud of you, reki" you whisper, stroking his face lovingly. he blinks at you before his bottom lip begins to quiver. for a second, you think he's gonna burst into tears but he only sighs shakily and leans into your hand. "come on, let's get you laid up and comfy"

•••

by the time reki is changed out of his sweaty shirt (he declined to take a shower, promising he'd wake up tomorrow to do so) and laid in your bed, he'd gotten through the worst of his panic attack. you had given him the snacks he had brought for you at the beginning of the night, prompting him to eat get rid of the shakiness.

now, reki was sat up in your bed, still donning the care bear blanket you draped over him and munching on a chocolate bar. he watched as you completed your skincare routine in front of your mirror. occasionally, you would glance over at him and smile reassuringly, to which he would tiredly smile back.

rubbing your moisturizer in, you make your way over to where reki is laid up on the bed. he's still chewing his chocolate bar, watching as you climb on the bed and pull yourself over to where he is laying. grinning softly, you tuck your feet under you and tuck a strand of hair behind reki's ear. he instantly nuzzles into your palm and oh, does your heart get soft.

"how do you feel?" you ask, your eyes scanning his face. the color has returned to his face, but his lips are chapped and his eyes are considerably sunken. "did you drink the water like i asked?"

"i'm feeling better and yes, i did" reki playfully retorts, sticking his tongue out at you. you purse your lips to one side and pinch his cheek, drawing a whine out of him.

"reki, look up at me real quick," you frown, holding his chin with your hand. reki momentarily forgets his chocolate bar and looks up at you, confused. you lean down and kiss him, staying like that for a couple seconds before you pull back with a grin. "there! all better!"

"was that supposed to be my get better kiss?" reki asks, his lips quirking with an amused smile.

"kinda? your lips were chapped so i wanted to give you some of my lip masque", you answer. reki rolls his eyes, but you don't miss the slight blush on his cheek. you giggle before reki wraps his arm around your shoulders and tugging you towards his chest. he grabs your nose with two of his fingers and you squeal with delight.

"what the hell is a lip masque?" he questions incredulously as you remove his hand from off your nose. you can't help the series of laughs that erupt from your chest. "oh my gosh, y/n, shhh! your parents will hear you!"

reki tries in vain to shush you, but he's giggling too, albeit a lot more quietly than you. when you manage to catch your breath, you pull yourself from reki’s grasp and sit up in front of him. the both of you smile softly at each other.

you wondered if you should ask him about his nightmare from before, although you had a feeling where this was stemming from. he seemed on edge—distant even, since the beef with adam. you remembered how distressed he was in the days leading up to the beef between adam and langa.

reki was still in a fragile state, you didn’t want to risk asking him about it so soon. maybe tomorrow? the day after that?

reki’s smile faltered. “you okay?” he asks quietly, bringing his hand up to your face. you blink, realizing that you weren’t doing such a great job of concealing your thoughts.

you sigh contentedly, twisting your head to kiss the palm of reki’s hands before placing your own hand over his.

“yes, i just—” you pause. “i just love you so much”

reki giggled and wow, was it the purest sound you’ve ever heard. he leans in and kisses you like you’re the most precious being in the world. “i love you too”, he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. you both stay like that, until reki yawns into your face.

“you need to rest, sweetheart”

reki frowns as you lay down, pulling him along with you. “but i am resting” he protests, stifling another yawn.

“i meant sleep” you reply, readjusting the carebear blanket around his shoulders. he tenses in your arms, but you press your lips against his forehead. “i’ll be here, i won’t leave. and i won’t let anything happen to you”

the tension in reki’s body eases and he sighs, nuzzling into your chest. “i love you...” he slurs, eyes already half shut.

“i love you” you whisper, fighting off sleep yourself. you waited until reki’s breathing deepened—the tell-tale sign of sleep, before you let yourself drift off too.

notes: this was long as hell, part ii will be way more happier and wayyy shorter.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Fake Dating Drabble No. 3

Today with Javier Peña (x OFC) who told Connie he had a (non existent) girlfriend so she stops setting him up on dates. Big thanks to @ladyreapermc​ for the idea 😘😘😘

Steph’s fake dating Drabble week

This is like 1.7k so not really a Drabble but 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: alcohol, cursing

He was fucked. Why the fuck did he agree to bring his girlfriend to the weekly Sunday dinner at the Murphy’s? The very much not real girlfriend he lied about because he didn’t want Connie to set him up with another nurse or doctor from the hospital she worked in.

He loved Connie, he really did. But sometimes she didn’t know when to stop.

“Don’t you want to settle down Javier? You’re not getting any younger,” she had asked.

“I have this very nice doctor friend at the hospital. She’s American and very intelligent and single…” Connie had started. He knew where this was going.

“Connie. I appreciate it but…” Javier looked at Steve who looked suspicious at him.

“I have a girlfriend. So you can stop setting me up on dates, okay?” He thought he had heard the last of it.

“You bring your girlfriend next week yeah?” Connie had asked, very much not about to take no for an answer as the Murphy’s walked him to the door. Javi had looked at Steve who almost cried silent tears to suppress his laughter.

“I don’t know…”

“See you next Sunday Javier. Let me know if she’s allergic to anything, yeah?” Connie smiled as she hugged him goodbye.

“Yeah…” he sighed. Connie went back inside, leaving Steve and him standing outside.

“So that girlfriend of yours…”

“Fuck you, Steve,” Javi hissed, making Steve chuckle.

“Don’t think about bringing one of your… Informants yeah? She’s gonna figure that out immediately.”

Javier turned around, giving Steve the finger as he walked back to his apartment.

It was Saturday and he still had no fucking idea who to bring. Javier wasn’t someone who had many friendships. The only real friend he really had was with Steve. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone. And he wouldn’t be any help. That fucker had teased him the whole week.

“Another one?” Mary asked. Javier found himself sitting at the counter of his favorite bar. It was getting close to midnight.

“You trying to get me drunk, Hermosa?” Javi smirked, looking up at the woman in front of him.

“You wish, Peña. I’m only this nice because you tip well,” she grinned, filling his glass. Javier kept looking at her. He didn’t know much about Mary. Only that she came to Colombia for a job that she quit after 6 months because the boss was harassing her. She started out working shifts at the bar. She was younger than him, but only by a couple of years. She was hilarious, intelligent and beautiful. It was like a lamp went on in his slightly drunk brain.

“You okay there, Javier? Is there something in my face?” she asked when he just kept looking at her.

“I need you to be my girlfriend,” Javier said.

“Excuse me?” she asked with big eyes.

“Fuck. Shit. It’s perfect. You’re perfect…” he ran a hand through his hair, his other hand grabbing the package of cigarettes, bringing one to his lips.

“Okay no more whiskey for you. I’m gonna call you a cab,” she shook her head at him.

“No… Let me explain. Fuck I shouldn’t drink that much.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you for a year,” she teased and he grinned.

“And you’re right. Anyway. I need a date.”

“The brothel is right down the street.”

“No. Wow. Fuck you’re mean. No. I need a date because I told Connie that I have a girlfriend so she stops nagging me to settle down or set me up on dates with every woman in Bogotá she knows.” He explained. Mary looked at him before she burst out in laughter, gathering a few confused looks from the people around her.

“Sorry…” she shook her head, trying to stop herself from laughing.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Javier smirked, his cigarette almost out.

“Javier I saw you leave with another woman only two days ago. How would that even work?”

“That’s not a no,” Javier grinned and she sighed.

“It’s not a yes either.”

“Well… You’d only have to pretend. Connie likes you. Steve knows I’m lying so…”

“So... Why not tell Connie that you lied?”

“You know Connie…” he groaned. Mary looked at him, the man who somehow became her favorite customer because he was the only one not trying to get her to fuck him. And now he was asking her to play his girlfriend. She shook her head.

“You better tipping me really, really good, Peña.”

Mary was at his place 15 minutes early. She even had put a dress on. The food better was worth it. Javier opened the door after the third knock and she grinned.

“Hi babe,” she teased, walking past him.

“I’m regretting this already,” he muttered, trying not to let his eyes wander down her body, but failing miserably. He had never seen her in a dress, let alone anything that made her body look so… so…

“So how do we do this?” she turned around and Javier looked up into her eyes.

“Well, I’m a very physical man…”

“Is that your way of telling me that you won’t keep your hands to yourself?” she raised one eyebrow.

“Well it has to appear real…” he smirked. She bit her lip, looking at him as she crossed her arms in front of her. He fought the urge to look at her cleavage as she shamelessly checked him out.

“If you get too handsy, I will break your fingers,” she clarified.

“What is too handsy?” he asked with a smirk. She walked towards him, her hands on his chest as she blinked up at him.

“I think you know what’s too handsy, Agent Peña,” she winked and he shakily breathed out. Shit. Were her eyes always this bright green?

“You wanna kiss me, Javi?” she whispered with a small smile.

“You want me to?” he asked hoarsely. She chuckled before she shook her head, patting his chest twice, and parted from him.

“I’m starving, let’s go!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that it’s Mary you’re dating,” Connie was sitting on the couch next to Steve who had the time of his life. He had to give it to Javier, he really did try hard. Mary was lovely. And funnily she would be just what Javi needed and the longer the night progressed the more Steve noticed the way Javi was looking at her. If Steve didn’t know better he would really buy it.

“So Javier ended up shitfaced at the bar and I took him home…” Mary told Connie and Javier rolled his eyes. That really did happen and she had been giving him shit about it for the last three months.

“And before I left him to sleep, he drunkenly asked me to be his girlfriend to which I only laughed and went out. Turns out he was genuine about it.” The way Mary lied without blinking an eye towards Connie who seemed smitten was unbelievable to Javi.

“Well, children and people who drink do speak the truth…” Connie teased. She patted Steve’s thigh. “Come one honey, I need your help in the kitchen.” Steve leaned in, kissing Connie on the cheek as he helped her up and they went to the kitchen.

“You are really selling this, Hermosa. Might think that you have thought about it before.”

“Well you were very affectionate when I brought you home that night,” she turned around to face him. Somehow they had gotten closer and closer over the evening. She was leaning against his shoulder, his arm around her waist, his fingers brushing over her thigh. He had noticed the goosebumps on her arms everytime he got closer.

“I didn’t do anything more….”

“Inappropriate than this?” she gestured around with a smile. “No. No you didn’t.”

“I’m glad,” he smiled softly at her. He felt himself grow warm at the look in her eyes. Fuck. No. No. No. No. He reached to brush a stray of hair behind her ear and she smiled back at him. She shuddered when she felt his fingers brush over her cheek. Javier was a really beautiful man the longer she looked at him. There was a dimple on his cheek when he smiled at her. It was kinda cute. The thought that she wanted to kiss it crossed her mind. What? Kissing? Javier?

“Don’t break my fingers…” he whispered as he leaned in. He stopped inches from her lips and she gulped, breathing deeply before she softly pressed her lips on his. It was like she was hot and cold at the same time as their lips met and Javi sighed. He pulled her closer, his lips moving over hers.

A cough let them part from another and they both looked up at Steve who was holding a tray of what looked like a chocolate mousse with a teasing grin on his lips.

“Not. A word,” Javier hissed at him, making Steve chuckle, while Mary tried to control her breathing. Shit, she wanted more. More of Javi. More of his lips, his hands, his….

Javi grabbed her hand and she looked at him as he mouthed the word later before Connie walked in.

They said their goodbyes an hour later, waving at the Murphy’s.

“Be safe kids,” Steve called after them and Javi, again, gave him the finger while his other hand held Mary’s. When they were standing in front of Javi’s apartment they both sighed.

“Well this was certainly very interesting,” Mary had a small smile on her lips.

“Yeah. You could say that,” Javi said.

“You think she bought it?”

“Oh definitely. You… you were perfect.”

They stood in front of each other, both not really wanting to leave.

“So…” Mary said, sucking her bottom lip in. She looked into his eyes, only quickly to his lips and she caught him doing the same.

“I should get home….” she whispered. Javi nodded.

“I’ll drive you,” he said. She nodded but didn’t move.

“Or..”

“Or?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Or you could kiss me again,” she smiled and Javi sighed relieved before his arms pulled her close and his lips crashed down on hers.

[george-fabian-weasley]

George Weasley — Wonder Part 2

PART 1: READ

Summary: Following George's perspective, follow on a journey where he realizes his feelings towards you is more than what best friends should feel.

Words: 3,893 word

Warnings ⚠ : Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: I try to be as vague as possible, so you can be whatever gender you like in this imagine! Have fun reading!

---------------------------------------------------

"I wonder."

George was lost in your eyes. As he hears every word that comes out of your lips, the only thing he heard was his heartbeat.

Strange, the rhythm was faster than usual. He watched you looking up, to get the tears back inside your system. You let out a forced chuckle, "Merlin, what's wrong with me." You muttered, yet George kept staring at you.

There was something bugging him. He wasn't sure what to call it.

Somehow, even without any light, you were glowing. Maybe it was from the rising moon or the little stars, but you were glowing.

At least to his eyes.

The glow highlighted all of your best features, kissing every single thing with a gentle light. If George didn't know any better, he'd think you took his breath away.

Merlin, you're stunningly beautiful.

"Did... Did he hurt you?" George found himself saying that, yet he kept on watching every little detail about you.

How come he never realized this before?

You shrugged, watching the rising moon. "He didn't. He wouldn't dare to hurt me. Blimey, I don't think he would even hurt a fly." You let out a small chuckle, smiling softly.

"Then why?" Was all that George could muster to say. He had to look away, or else he would drown himself looking at your eyes.

There's something about those eyes of yours, that he just couldn't help but admire. Is it the stunning color? Or the perfect eyelashes you have?

George has no bloody idea.

You turned to look at him, the night breeze started to come as your hair slightly moved following the breeze. "Why I tear up? Well, maybe because I know if I say anything to him about my feelings... The friendship I have with him might be jeopardized."

As you turn your head back to the view, George's eyes returned to see your facial side. If anything, the night breeze made you look so... Delicate. How your hair slightly moved backward following the breeze, how your eyes were closed to feel the wind, how there was a gentle smile painted on your lips.

"I'm sure he likes you too." He said, reaching his hand to pat your head, he does that whenever he wants to comfort you, but this time, it feels different.

It feels... much more intimate.

His heartbeat increased as his hand touched your hair, how soft it was. You laughed, "Yeah? And why so, Weasley?"

You turned to him expecting him to crack a smile, yet his face was serious. George couldn't find himself smiling, despite his fast heartbeat.

"Because any boy who doesn't see your worth, is not worth it."

He watched your face frowned in shock and the soft hue of red flowing through your cheeks. He watched your eyes flicking left and right to each of his eyes, seemingly to him you're trying to see if he's bluffing or not.

He chuckled, "What? You don't think I couldn't be serious, do you?" He let his hand fall to his sides again, and you blinked, before gently smiling, “But he’s worth it though.”

Something about that statement made his heart ache. Who the bloody hell is this buffoon and how much does he worth until he’s allowed to hurt you like this?

Before George could say anything, you both heard Fred’s shout from downstairs, “Oi, lads! Aren’t you going back to the common room? Come on then!”

You laughed at Fred’s annoyed voice, shaking your head as you stood up.  You looked down at the still-sitting George and held out your hand, “Come on, or else he’s going to throw a tantrum.”

He held your hand, and suddenly his cold hand was warm. The warmness you radiated was enough to warm his rather large hand, and seemingly warm his heart as well.

As he stood up holding your hand, he felt that you were going to pull away, so he gripped your hand tighter. He then quietly put your intertwined hands inside his sweater pocket. From the corner of his eyes, he saw you getting flustered and seemingly red. 

He didn’t know why he did what he did, but it felt right. So, so right.

“W-what about the broom and mop?” He heard you stutter out. With a flick of his finger, the broom and mop had moved by themselves, moved past them and to downstairs, passing through Fred whom you heard cursing in surprise, “Bloody hell-”

“Oh,” was all you could say. George chuckled and turned to you, “Let me borrow your hand for a second, mine was freezing.” Finally, he said something. You let out a small chuckle, “I can see that, it was bloody cold. I’m starting to suspect you’re a Slytherin.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, and you scoffed, “Don’t tell me you don’t get the joke?” George hummed a bit at that, he had to understand this one. Jokes are his main expertise. Yet, nothing came to mind. The blank face he had made you burst into laughter.

“Slytherin? Snakes? Snakes are cold-blooded? Cold hands?” you gave him hints, and then he gave you a ‘really?’ look, making you laugh more.

“That was a bad joke.” “Still works.”

That night, George couldn’t sleep. He kept turning sides here and there, closing his eyes as tight as he could, counting almost 300 sheep already, yet to no avail. “What’s wrong with me?” George muttered to himself, sighing afterward. He decided to go down to the common room, perhaps the warm fire could be his lullaby for the night.

He plopped to the couch right in front of the fireplace, the sound of crackling wood instantly brought him relaxation. He tried closing his eyes, perhaps he could sleep here for a while, to get those energies at least. 

But no, somehow his mind won’t let him rest. George opened his eyes with a heavy sigh, at this point he had given up the idea of sleep. “Alright, George Weasley’s brain, what do you want to think about so bad until I can’t bloody sleep for it?” George muttered, loud enough for him to hear. 

The idea of someone might come down and see him talking to himself in the middle of the night wasn’t George’s idea of a pleasant time.

As if answering his question, his mind wandered to you. He recalled the moments at the Astronomy Tower, the way you stunningly took his breath away.

George felt heat rushing up his cheeks, he touched the warm skin and blinked. Suddenly it clicked. With widened eyes, George stood up and paced back and forth the common room, muttering, “Oh no, no no no no no no no....”

But wait, these feelings are familiar. This isn’t the first time he felt like this for you. He has been feeling these feelings since, bloody hell, since-

“Since third year...” George mumbled in horror. The hands that were raking his hair stopped. The sudden epiphany had him frozen in both horror and shock. George plopped back to the couch by the fireplace, his mind was still processing the newfound information. 

George Weasley may have changed the way he looked at you that night.

Daylight comes and George hasn’t blinked one sleep since the revelation. He was slurping his daily cup of coffee at the Great Hall when you came by, looking cheerful. “Ah, Meredith looking good today, eh?” Fred chirped, and you just grinned at him. “I had a good sleep last night.” You said, cheerfully picking up the things you want to eat.

It’s as if George and you had switched places. 

George couldn’t stop looking at you, the way your cheeks glow by the sunlight that seeped through the windows of the Great Hall, the way you made a little dance whenever you taste something so good, the way you would furrow your eyebrows when you drink that warm tea.

Goodness, you’re stunning.

As if the time had stopped, George analyzed each and every one of your features, head to toe. And he started wondering. He wondered about many things, the way his mind was running at full speed now that he had his shot of coffee was not helping.

He wondered how soft is your hair, the pat on the head he gave you yesterday seemed to have slipped his mind. How soft is your hair, and how would it smell? How cozy would it smell when he sleeps behind you while hugging your waist, your back to his chest? 

He wondered about your eyes. How tender would they be, looking at him as if he’s the only thing that matters on Earth? How would your eyes squint when he tickled your sides, and you were laughing, begging him to stop?

He wondered about your lips. How would it curl into a smile whenever he’s around? How would it feel, if your lips came in contact with his? How would it taste like, when you were passionately kissing each other, slowly tearing off each other’s clothes-

It was only when Ron accidentally slapped George’s head while running that he was snapped back to reality. George choked out his coffee, the impact was more than enough to spill out his guts. Fred who was watching quickly stood up and slapped Ron’s head back as payback, “Watch where you’re going, you git! He could’ve choked!”

“Merlin, are you alright, George?!!” You quickly stood up to his aid, rubbing his back to ease up his coughing. George couldn’t stop coughing, yet he nodded.

He was more flustered by the fact that your hand was rubbing his back continuously than his respiratory system being endangered.

When his coughing slowed down, he had a few stray tears on his cheeks. Merlin, his throat felt like burning. He quickly downed a glass of water, sighing in relief that he could breathe again.

Ron better fucking watch his pillows tonight for tarantulas.

“Blimey, George, thought I would lose you there for a bit.” You let a relieved laugh, still being next to him, slowly rubbing his back. George wouldn’t admit it, but your hand on his back felt so comfortable, and cozy.

You patted his back a couple more times before returning to your seat, before you halted, “George.”

He turned to you, blinking, “Yeah?”

You tilted your head as you looked at him, worry etched at your face, “Your face is red,” you shrugged suddenly, “But then again, you almost died.”

“Don’t scare us like that again! I was bloody worried that I’ll have to send a letter to Mum about your death!” Fred returned and smacked George’s arm. “You git, that’s all you’re worried about.” George deadpan, but the teasing smile on his lips was visible. 

“Should we send you to the Hospital wing?” You asked, a little bit of concern was still there. George couldn’t hide his small tiny smile, his heart was buzzing with joy when you asked him that. “Worried much about me, Y/N?” George gave you a charming smile with a wink.

He watched as the red hue entered your cheeks, the soft shade of pink somehow made you look... cuter. You scoffed in surprise and had to look away for a second before looking back at him, “Wouldn’t want you to die and leave me taking care of Fred alone. “

“Hey!” Fred complained and you three laughed. 

As if everything was in slow motion, George’s eyes darted to you as you laugh. The way your eyes crinkle, the way your lips stretch to form that wide smile, the sound of your laugh could brighten up his days for a week. And somehow with the soft pink blush on your cheeks, it makes you look much more charming.

Bloody hell, George sure did change the way he looked at you.

“Look! It’s snowing!” A first-year’s shout echoed throughout the hall, and everyone snapped their heads to the windows. Small white orbs of snow floating down from the sky to the ground. “Pretty early for snow days, huh?” Fred muttered, George nodded, it was a bit early. But you weren’t listening. You were growing excited by the second.

“It’s snowing! That means we could make snow angels! And have snowball fights!”  Fred and George had forgotten how much you loved snows, and was reminded as they saw your twinkling eyes.

They slightly flinched when your head snapped to look at them, “Can we go on a midnight picnic this weekend? Please, please, please!” Once you gave them the puppy-dog eyes, they knew they lost.

“But it’s going to be freezing outside, Y/N.” Fred whined. “I have a heating mat mum bought when she went to a muggle city once! Please?”

George couldn’t help but to chuckle, you looked so adorable.

“Don’t use your puppy-dog eyes too long, Y/N. Soon people will know what kind of power you possess.” George playfully said as he glanced at Neville who sat beside you, he was staring at you with his mouth agape. You followed his eyes and laughed at Neville. You pat the lad’s shoulder and quickly whispering, “Don’t tell anyone!”

Poor Neville nodded eagerly.

The weekend soon arrived, and you were all set for the midnight picnic. George had bribed the house elves for food, you brought out the heating mat and extra blankets, and Fred brought all the jumpers he could find. Your go to place? Right in front of Hagrid’s hut, again.

“Thank you so much, Hagrid!” You said as you give the half-giant a hug. “Make sure you don’t get caught this time! Argus will not be fooled twice!” He warned you, before patting your head goodnight.

George arrived a few minutes later with baskets of food. “Where’s Freddie-O?” you asked. George shrugged, “Turns out he had detention with Snape and had forgotten about it. He’ll come around later.”

“Well, seems like it’s just the two of us tonight.” You sighed in content, watching the white mist came out from your mouth. George gave you a dazzling smile, “Who’s complaining?”

George was actually nervous for that night. It’s not like it’s the first time he had hung out with you, so he had no idea why. But ever since he had acknowledged his feelings towards you, he felt this fuzzy buzzy feeling in his stomach whenever you’re around. And he may have told you a little tiny lie about Fred.

George and Fred are twins, they know everything about each other. Fred was pretending to be oblivious the whole time, when he knew everything. Fred had given George a head-start, like he said, “Get it done before I’m there, or I’ll tell Y/N myself.” George was horrified to say the least, and Fred just scoffed, “You think you could hide things from me? Your twin? Your older brother?”

So, now that he's forced to confess, George Weasley had never felt so nervous.

It's been an hour since you both started the midnight picnic, you were munching a sandwich while laying down and George was taking a sip on his hot chocolate, courtesy to Hagrid. He glanced at your way, listening to every bit of your words about the stars on the dark sky. You looked so fascinated and George felt his heartbeat doubled in pace.

"Y/N." He called. You turned your head to him, still laying down, "What's up, Georgie?" A small smile was playing on his lips, and his eyes were tender as he looked at you, "I just realized I like someone." He saw your expression dropped for a second, before you quickly put up a smile.

...What was that?

"Who's the unlucky one?" You imitated his way of talking, like the time at Astronomy Tower. George picked it up quickly and chuckled, "Can't tell you just yet." You chuckled, "Then why bother telling me?"

"I need to let out something, like you said." George stopped laughing, but his lips still have that soft smile. You sat up and face him properly. Your knees met his, and you were giving him a supportive smile, despite your slowly breaking heart. "Tell me everything about them."

The sparkle in your eyes were gone, and George wondered why.

"Well, where do I start?" George muttered to himself, sighing. The mist escaped his lips and came in contact with your face. He looked down to his hands that rested on his lap, then his eyes darted to your hands. Swiftly, he took your right hand and begin to rub small circles on it.

At first, you were stunned. Then you figured he may need an additional support, thus your hand. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you feel his skin softly brush against yours.

"Whenever they're around, I feel as if they radiate this kind of soft and cheerful energy. The way their eyes sparkle when they talk about something that excites them, the sound of their laugh when something is funny, the way when the sunset light kissed their face, it makes them look much more ethereal." George laid word by word carefully, he couldn't look up to you, or else he'd blush his head off.

And because he didn't look at you, he didn't see your faltering smile.

He continued to play with your hand when he said, "They're playful; as I am, but they know when to stop and be serious, to listen to things. They know which words to give when they're comforting me, and they give the best hugs a tall lad like me could possibly ask for," He chuckled, the faint blush on his cheeks saturated.

And you had lost your smile. You begin to wonder if your hugs are even enough? Were you that playful that you couldn't be serious? Did you not give advice the right way before? Suddenly, the insecurities swarmed you, and you were choking up. With your eyes watery, you muttered, "Tell me more, George."

Oblivious of your heartbroken state, George continued with a wide smile, both of his hands holding tight on yours, "I wonder sometimes, how happy could I make them be, the way they make me happy? How wonderful would life be, if I could call them mine? And, I wonder if someday they want to be my partner for life."

It hurt your heart, seeing George looking so happy telling you about that someone he likes, oblivious and ignorant to your state. It pained you, that you wanted him to be happy, even if he's happy without you. You would be happy for him, but Bloody Merlin, why does it hurt so much?

"You know, Y/N, right before I close my eyes," One and two stray tears rolled down your cheeks.

"The only thing that's on my mind," Subconsciously, you squeezed his hand, trying so hard not to let out a sob.

"I've been dreaming that you feel it too," Wait, you?

"I wonder what it's like to be loved by you." Finally, George looked up to you, with a wide smile. But that smile was drained right after he took in your state. You were looking at him with wide eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, your mouth was agape.

"W...What?" You let out a whisper. George was quick to let go of your hand to cup your face, wiping away your tears, "W-were you crying? I... I didn't mean to make you cry, Y/N." He let out softly, his face contorted with concern and regret.

You were speechless, frozen. George gulped as he saw your state, and moved away slowly. "I... I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I am, so... sorry." George was breaking on the inside. In his mind, he thought you were crying in denial, that that was your rejection to him.

"Do... Do you like me?" Your whisper sounds so loud to George. George looked at you in embarrassment and shame, before looking away, "Yeah, I do. But I knew you wouldn't like me back, so it's fine I guess-"

He likes you... He likes you. He likes you!!!

"So, everything you say about them, you were... talking about me?" You were still trying to process everything. A few seconds ago, you were so ready getting your heart broken, and now you're just confused.

You remembered the way he talked about that someone, and your face grew red. The tears in your eyes had dried up, George.... George Weasley likes you?

"George," You called. George was upset, yet he responded, "Yeah?"

"When I cried just now, do you know why?" You said slowly, your heartbeat increases. George gave you a sad and pained smile, "Because you were shocked and you were denying me?" His broken voice pained you. You slowly moved in front of him on your knees, while he was sitting with his legs crossed. He watched your every movement, somehow even with red eyes you still looked beautiful.

You slowly reached for his arms, and put them to your waist. The way his hands hugged your inches perfectly made the butterflies in your stomach grew wild. You could see it in him, that he was having butterflies as well. "I was crying because..." You trailed off, bringing your hands to each side his face, something that you've been wanting to do for quite a while. He was looking up to you slightly, and he could see your pink blush.

"Because I was heartbroken that you were talking about someone else rather than me." George blinked a few times, his heartbeat increased its pace like never before, "C-come again?" He stuttered. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It made you chuckle as you painted a gentle smile on your lips, "I like you too, George. I always have."

Seeing how speechless you made him, you leaned down slightly, until your nose were touching. Your breaths, the cold mists hit both of your faces. You watched his eyes for a moment, before it lingered down to his lips. You watched him do the same to yours with a gulp.

"Kiss me, Weasley."

George's lips slowly formed a smile, "You don't have to ask me twice." And with that he leaned up and engulfed your lips with his. It was a soft kiss first, cautious and careful. And by time went on as you two got more comfortable, the kiss was hungry, passionate, just everything you could ask for. George's hands gripped tighter to your waist, engulfing more inches to pull your closer. You arms were wrapped around his head, hands playing with his hair, trying to take as much as you could.

Only when you need oxygen did you pull away, and even then George seemed eager for more as he stole a few pecks. Your heart was about to explode, bloody hell. George Weasley is a bloody good kisser.

Soon, you were on the ground with George hovering you, planting peppers of kisses onto your face. You were giggling non-stop, begging him to stop, yet you love the affection. Your heart swelled with joy. He stopped finally, but he stayed still, hovering you, taking in the view under him.

"Has anyone ever told you you're beautiful, Y/N?" He whispered, his smile mirroring yours perfectly. He was in euphoria, he had never felt so happy.

"Yeah," You grinned before leaning up to plant a soft kiss on his lips, "You have."

<COMPLETE!>

[moral-turpitudes]

Piece By Piece:

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Pregnancy, Mentions of Death, Swearing, Implied smut? idk it’s Peaky Blinders so...yup.

Word Count: 3,540

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Request: “Can you make one with Tommy where they start a relashionship after Grace when to NY and when she come back Tommy still feels something for her so reader notice and tells him that it's ok if he wants to be with her cause she wants to see him happy and she never tells the family that she's pregnant and just go away and they meet later on (she receives a black hand too) and talk“

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Thomas Shelby always had his eye on Grace, but little did he know after her departure, he’d grow fond of the new barmaid. As time goes on, he realizes where his heart lies, and Y/N realizes her secret can’t be left in the shadows for long, but she never expected a black-hand to bring them back together again.

It had been 2 years since Grace left him for the bright and bustling town of New York. It had been 2 years since heart was ripped apart. But It had taken all of one day for his heart to be put back piece by piece.

“You can’t sit around here looking like that Tommy.” The woman said. She’d worked as the new barmaid ever since Grace’s departure. Helping heal his heart one shot of whiskey at a time.

“Looking like what, Y/N?” He asked, his eyes dull and tired as they glanced at her.

“Like this.” She said, pouring a shot and downing it, while sitting next to him. She did her best to copy his expression, adding an over-exaggerated pout to complete her performance.

Thomas scoffed, taking another shot as he watched her laugh.

“I don’t look like that.” He said, turning his head away and looking out the window of the Garrison.

“Oh, but you do.” She said, taunting him.

“Look Y/N, I’m going to have to go in the snug if you continue mocking me.” He said in a serious tone.

Y/N faked a shocked expression as he got up to leave.

“Thomas Shelby...I never thought you’d go and hide from a lady. What’s wrong did I hurt your feelings?” She asked, getting up and cleaning off the table.

“Don’t have any, sweetheart.” He said, walking towards the snug.

“Bullshit.” She said, smirking as she watched him sneak off to drink away his sorrows.

A half hour passed as she’d finished cleaning up, not wanting to think about what mess awaited her in the snug.

She knocked firmly on the door, hearing a groan on the other end.

“Thomas? Are you dead?” She asked, only half joking.

“Come in, Y/N.” He said, his speech slurring slightly.

“You know I can’t leave until you do right?” She asked, taking the empty bottle from him and bringing the shot glass to the small bar window in the room.

“What if I don’t want you to aye?” He asked.

“I’d really appreciate going home. Been here since 9 this morning Tom.” She said, reaching for the lantern on the table. In a swift motion he clasped his hand in hers, causing her to look into his mesmerizing eyes.

“I know love, but I’d appreciate it if you stayed. I can’t hear the shovels as much. Can’t hear the noise.” He said.

Y/N sighed and sat down next to him.

“Why me? Can’t you go stay at your home? Stay with your family? Stay with a random woman?” She asked.

Thomas put his arm around her shoulder. His words still slurring a bit as he spoke.

“I don’t want a random woman love, I want you.” He said.

Her heart raced as he said that. She knew people always talked nonsense when drunk, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t just the whiskey talking.

Y/N sighed and furrowed her brow, remembering how she’d had a thing for the charming blinder ever since she’d stepped foot in Small Heath 2 years ago. But she never thought she’d end up feeling so strongly over the years.

“You don’t want me, Tom. You still want Grace. I know you do.” Y/N said. It hurt her to say it but it was the truth, at least to her.

“She’s not coming back, Y/N. It’s been 2 years. She has a husband back in New York now. So I’d say she’s not coming back.” He said, almost as if he was trying to convince himself it was true.

Y/N went to get up, wiping away a stray tear.

“Aye, c’mere. Don’t cry love.” He said, pulling her closer.

“Alright Tom, if you want me...you’ll have to prove it you know. I’m not falling for your tricks.” She said, finally getting out of his drunken embrace to finish cleaning.

“I’ll show you. Be outside in 5 minutes.” He said. Although he drowned himself in whiskey, he was much more playful when drunk. At least when he was around Y/N.

5 minutes had passed as Thomas stomped out his cigarette into the cold cobblestones. The smoke coming up from the ground and snaking it’s way through the air as it crumbled under the weight of his shoe.

He looked over and saw Y/N locking the doors and walking over to his car, her hair shining in the pale moonlight.

“You’re not driving this thing in your condition.” She said, pulling her coat tightly around her.

“My condition aye? Well...be my bloody guest.” He said, getting in the passenger side reluctantly. He was still far from sober after all.

Thomas watched as she drove, her hands gripping the wheel tightly as she peered through the windshield at the fog covered roads ahead.

“You’re beautiful.” He said, breaking the awkward silence.

“What?” She asked, the engine slightly growling over his words.

He put his hand gently on hers, urging her to stop the car.

“You’re beautiful.” He said, a small smile playing at his lips.

Y/N’s face heated up slightly, shaking her head as she dismissed his words.

“I heard you the first time. Just wanted you to repeat it.” She said with a playful wink before starting the car up again.

Thomas chuckled lightly as she drove on, his house eventually coming into view.

“Fucking finally.” He said, getting out of the car and walking to get Y/N out.

“So what now Tom? I guess since I drove I’m sleeping in the car?” She asked.

“Come inside. You’re sleeping with me.” He said.

“No. I mean-I’d love to-but...that’s not professional for-“ She started to say, her mind racing with the thought of her wildest dream coming true as Thomas crashed his lips to hers.

The tension between them was almost electric, making their movements frantic as he led her through the door and upstairs to his bedroom.

The next morning, she woke up in the unfamiliar room. Her head pounding slightly as she listened to Tommy’s soft snores beside her. He told her about the shovels before, and about how it wasn’t until he met Grace that they’d stopped bombarding his dreams. But she wondered if she’d ever be that bit of silence he needed, knowing Grace was still out there.

As the weeks went by, he’d show up more to the Garrison, always ordering her to get off work so they could share a drink and mingle with the family. And soon she’d became a welcome face around the Shelby’s, very much the opposite of Grace.

“Y/N, I just want you to know that whatever happens, you’re welcome here. You’re the best thing to have happened to him. Even if he can’t see it yet.” Polly said, taking a swig of her drink.

“You think so? I feel like he’s still on about Grace.” She said, shifting in her seat.

“Men never think with their hearts, nor their heads. But I’d say his is pretty set on you. It better be anyways because we all love you.” Polly said.

Y/N smiled as she watched Thomas and his brothers talking about business, sipping her gin as she sighed, it was the only thing she’d been able to stomach for the past week.

It wasn’t until a week later though that she realized what was wrong.

But her plight only seemed to worsen when Polly gave her a call that morning.

“You deserve to know Y/N, but Grace is back. Tommy just told me, but he’s been late the past couple of days because he’s been seeing her.” She said.

“Oh.......um alright. Thank you for telling me.” She said, tears welling up in her eyes as she hung up the phone abruptly.

It wasn’t until late in the evening that she’d heard Tommy open the door to her apartment, his face slightly cut in various places, but nothing out of the ordinary for him.

She stayed silent as he walked towards her.

“Y/N? What’s wrong aye?” He asked, hugging her as tears streamed down her face.

“I...I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving Thomas. You and I both know it’s better this way.” She said.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, lighting a cigarette as she paced around her living room.

“I’m talking about Grace. I know she’s back. Polly told me.” She said, her voice thick with more tears threatening to spill.

“I was going to tell you she was Y/N. Believe me.” He said.

She shook her head and chuckled lightly as she sat down.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, but I’ve made my decision okay? I just want you to know that I love you, but if you’re truly happier with her then please, don’t waste yourself on me...on whatever this was between us.” She said, gesturing vaguely and walking past him, crossing her arms over her as she looked out the window.

“Look Y/N...I’m sorry alright? I didn’t think she’d come back...I won’t see her again.” He said.

Y/N wiped her tears and turned to face him, the nausea of the last few weeks eating away at her along with her nerves.

“You only let one thing rule you Thomas Shelby. And it’s not your heart or your brain.” She said angrily before going up to her room and grabbing her bag and her ticket to London.

As she calmed her nerves, she walked reluctantly down the stairs. Her heart breaking at the fact that he didn’t even deny seeing Grace, especially while she was away at work and at home sick.

“You’re just up and leaving then aye?” He asked, an angry tone to his voice.

“I’m doing what’s best for us, Tom. Maybe one day I’ll find it in me to come back. But today is not that day. I’ll see you around.” She said, walking out the door. Leaving her letter of resignation and her last month of rent in the mailbox.

Another 2 years had passed, leaving Y/N alone in a cramped apartment raising their now 2 year old daughter Jane. She was the perfect mix of both of them. Her eyes almost the color of Tommy’s and her hair and smile reflecting her mother. Y/N smiled, thanking the gods above that she got more of her features, often still feeling bitter about how they’d departed.

All was fine for them, Y/N having found a job as a seamstress. And finding some new friends who’d helped her look after her daughter.

But her quaint life was soon interrupted, all by a small letter in the mail one morning.

“I’m aware that you know a certain man by the name of Thomas Shelby. Let him know his days are numbered. Yours will be as well, Miss. Y/L/N.

L. C.”

Her heart sank at the words on the thin piece of paper, her legs growing weak as she looked at the threatening message and even more threatening black-hand that was printed on the front.

It took everything in her to think about what to do next. She immediately checked on Jane, seeing her sleeping in her bed peacefully as her friend Maria watched over her.

“Maria.” She whispered.

“Yes Y/N?” She asked.

“Somethings come up. I-I have to move back to Small Heath.” She said urgently.

Maria got up carefully and went with her to the small kitchen, tears welling up in her eyes at the news.

“I’m so sorry. I know we’ve been friends for so long, but this is dangerous. I-I have to go. I have to protect her. I want you to go home and stay away from this area alright? I don’t know what Tommy’s gotten himself into but I think it’s bad. Someone knows where I live and I can’t have you getting hurt. I’ll ring you once I’m there okay?” She said, tears streaming down her face once again.

“My god...alright. Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked.

“Yes, it’s not the first time I’ve dealt with him and besides...I knew I’d have to come back some day. Just didn’t think it would be so soon.” She said, hugging her friend for what felt like the last time as she raced to pack once more and carefully scooped her daughter into her arms. Leaving into the night and off towards where her heart once belonged.

In Small Heath, Tommy sat at his office, cigarette in hand as he looked over the letters his brothers had brought in.

“Isiah, Michael, Finn, you lot check the warehouses. Arthur you come with me.” He said, getting up just as the phone rang.

“Tommy, it’s Polly. I need you to come to my house.”

“I can’t, not right now. We got black hands and I can’t have the boys end up like Grace and John.” He said, his voice cold and emotionless.

“Should we come to the shop?” She asked.

“No I’ll come there...who is we? Just-never mind. I’ll see everyone later. Be careful Poll.” He said before hanging up and heading out the door.

The Changretta’s once again taunted him. And that was one thing he couldn’t bear from anyone, except for Y/N. Ever since Grace was killed by his men he thought of her. His world came crashing down as he saw the blood leaving her body on the ballroom floor. Clinging on to what little bit of life was left in her as she looked at him. It was Luca and his family who ordered that shot, and it was meant for him, but since he cheated death once again, it was coming to him now two-fold.

“Thank you for letting us stay, Poll.” Y/N said, looking around the lavish house that Tommy had surely acquired over the years.

“It’s no problem dear. I know it’s under the worst circumstances but I’m really glad you came back.” She said, lighting a cigarette as she watched Charlie, Thomas’ son playing with Jane.

“Amongst all this, I came to apologize. I shouldn’t have left, but I had no other choice.” Y/N said, tears threatening to fall.

“I’ve always liked you Y/N and I couldn’t let you go on living without telling you what was going on. I just...didn’t know you were pregnant.” She said, smiling at Jane as she played.

“I uh, just found out that day actually. I didn’t want to tell you all until I told Tommy, but...he didn’t really make that easy aye?” She said.

“No...and it’s a shame Grace passed the way she did, but she at least left Charlie. He’s the one light in his poor life right now. Besides you and Jane of course.” She said.

Y/N shook her head, looking at the boy who shared Tommy’s eyes almost as much as Jane’s did.

“I’m certain he won’t want to see me let alone the daughter he never met. He’s already hurting, I don’t want to hurt him more.” She said, taking a sip of her gin.

“He was torn apart when you left, and you gave very little reason as to why, but now I know and I don’t blame you dear. But even then, I knew that he loved you, he just....let his cock get in the way one too many times.” She said quietly, a chuckle escaping her lips as Y/N smirked.

“I remember I told him something along those lines. I just....always knew he had his eyes on her despite her being thousands of miles away. I should’ve known better...” Y/N said as Jane crawled over to her.

“You did what you had to do, love. Tommy was just too blinded by his past love to see what he was missing. But I assure you he’ll be happy you’re here. You just have to talk to him.” She said.

“If he’s changed as much as you say he has....that will be much easier said than done.” Y/N said, remembering Polly saying that since Grace and his brothers death, he was even more closed off except around Charlie or his beloved whiskey.

“I told him to come here, but he’s off trying to find Luca Changretta and his men. But he’ll be back. It’s safer for us to be here anyways.” She said, blowing out a puff of smoke from her cigarette.

It seemed like ages before Polly and Y/N heard a loud knock on the door, Y/N holding Jane in one arm and holding Charlie’s hand with the other.

Polly looked through the peephole hesitantly, and then nodded at you as she opened it.

Tommy walked in, barely noticing her at first as Charlie waddled over to him. He wrapped him in a hug, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he looked at Polly.

“What did you need me here for aye?” He asked, none the wiser to the other two people in her house.

“Mama...mama...” Jane said quietly, pointing to the man she’d never seen before.

This caught his attention as he looked over, seeing the one he truly loved over the years carrying the little girl on her hip.

“H-hi...Tom.” Y/N stammered out, her heart racing at the awkward tension in the room.

“Y/N...” Was all he said, slowly putting Charlie down and walking towards her.

His face was cut in various places, almost like she’d seen him 2 years ago.

He looked at the little girl who clung to her mother’s hip, shyly staring at him with her blue eyes that couldn’t fool anyone. She was his and he couldn’t deny it.

“I think we need to talk...” She said quietly, tears threatening to spill as she saw the man who broke her heart all those years ago.

“I think we do.” He said, a sad look to his eyes as he stepped into the drawing room of Polly’s house.

“I’ll be right back love, go play with Charlie yeah?” She asked, sitting her daughter down by the boy that was about her age, playing with two horse shaped toys.

Y/N reluctantly went into the room, Polly giving her a small smile as she sat and watched the children.

“I thought you’d left for good Y/N...” He said.

“I did too, but I got a black-hand letter in the mail. They threatened me and my daughter. I had to come back.” She said, finally letting her tears fall.

She wiped them away as she sat down across from him, not wanting to look him in the eyes.

Tommy rubbed his hand over his face at the fact. He didn’t think he’d try going after her, but he also underestimated him before and it ended tragically.

“When were you going to tell me aye?” He asked, sitting next to her.

“Tell you what? That I got a black-hand or that I was pregnant?” She asked.

Tommy looked away and rubbed his cigarette against his lips before lighting it, just as he always did.

“So she’s mine aye?” He asked.

“Yes. Can’t deny it. Her eyes are practically yours. I could tell you knew as soon as I saw your face.” She said, getting up to pace around.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you, Y/N. Everyday since you left I regretted it. I loved Grace, and chose her but I really should’ve chosen you and I’ll never forgive myself for that.” He said, watching her pace around the small room.

Y/N nodded, her mind racing with the memories of the past.

“I’m sorry about Grace, Tom. She seemed like a good match for you. I’m glad you have Charlie though.” She said looking out the window.

“Do I still have a chance...Y/N?” He asked. Causing her to look away from the window.

His eyes stared at hers intently. Almost burning a hole through her as she gazed back.

“Well...all things considered...It seems like we’re staying here a while so that’s up to you as well. Are you going to see someone else?” She asked.

“No.” He said, walking over to her. He was inches from her as he spoke, his eyes hurt but still shining. His face more cut up and wrinkled in places than the last time she saw him. But one thing remained. His smile that he’d only shown for close family had appeared again. Making her cold heart melt at the sight.

“I’m not making that mistake again, Y/N.” He said, brushing a tear from her cheek.

“Do you promise?” She asked.

“On my life.” He said, before bringing her into a kiss.

When they pulled away, she heard Jane and Charlie playing, causing her to smile.

“I’ll have to visit Charlie more often, he’s a sweet boy.” She said.

“You won’t have to visit love. You can stay with us.” He said.

“Tommy...no I can’t do that...” She said.

“I promise you can. There’s more rooms in that house than I can keep up with and it would be nice to have someone I love besides Charlie walking around there again.” He said.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said.

Y/N sighed and nodded, pushing herself up on her toes slightly to kiss him again. The electric spark still there after all those years. It was like she’d never left, and this time, she planned on staying.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

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@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee, @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

[imaginedxlan]

Champagne & Shackles; Beta Part Two (Fred Weasley)

a/n: i’m SORRY i’m terrible at time management, school is kicking me ass. i had no idea so many of you had the same affinity for the brothers of the beta fraternity as i do, this is for all my frat rats out there i love you most. this is an ode to my very favorite date party theme: champagne and shackles. in which you and you’re chad or brad of a date are candcuffed together until you finish a massive bottle of champagne between the two of you.

weeks after the infamous beta darty, you can’t seem to pull your thoughts or presence away from the ginger boy who made your heart skip a beat. That is, until you’re invited to the beta champagne and shackled date party.

y/f/n: your friend’s name

warnings: cussing, alcohol, mentions of sex, modern!fred, and also very typical frat boy lingo stolen straight from the mouths of frat boy i associate myself with

disclaimer: while they’re semi-drunk in this they’re still coherent and stable enough to know what they’re doing. nothing that happens in this is coercive or decided under an incapacitated mind. king freddie would never take advantage of a girl like that.

part one

consumed.

You have been completely consumed with the the thought of a certain red head for weeks now. Since you kissed him goodbye on your front lawn, the image of Fred Weasley has yet to leave your brain. While you’ve been at the same school for almost two years, you’ve seen him more in the few weeks following the beta darty than you have in the 18 months you’ve spent on campus. Lines in coffee shops, the terrace at the union, the corners of the library you’ve inhabited for years. He’s everywhere. Not that you’re complaining.

The grin that plays across his lips every time you catch his eye sends your heart into overdrive. You’ve spent countless nights awake in y/f/n’s bed analysing every text, every snapchat, every story. You replay the day in the beta backyard at least once a day, yearning for the feeling of his touch on your skin. You’ve hardly returned to the brick-faced mansion, however. You’ve of course been invited through Draco and the countless group messages that flood your phone the nights leading up to a beta party, but you want him to invite you. You want him to want you there.

Of course he wants you there. He spends hours in that filthy basement he calls home every weekend searching for you among the dozens of drunk girls, hoping you had decided to turn up this time. But you’re not there.

Y/f/n mentioned date party to you this past weekend. Draco being social chair of the fraternity, he’s been planning the function for weeks. Champagne and Shackles. A fan favorite among every sorority girl throughout the school. Mixing together handcuffs and a massive bottle of champagne would have nearly anyone begging for an invite. You decide not to get your hopes up, constantly reminding yourself that while he is the boy that made you feel like you were the only two people in the world while you were surrounded by hundreds of drunk college boys, he’s still a twenty year old beta boy. It’s hard to stray from the hook up culture that he’s been practically bred into. Nevertheless, there is still a glimmer of hope in you that you’ll be cuffed to him this Saturday night instead of another girl he’s probably found on greek row.

He’s been drafting this text in the notes app of his phone for three days now. He’s changed the wording, the punctuation and the amount of details in his intended invite to you one hundred times now. George and Oliver groan every time he stops their studying or game of Call of Duty to read them the revised text he’s come up with this time.

“My god, Weasley, you’re acting like you’re writing your vows.” Oliver jokes, setting his xbox controller down on the makeshift coffee table in the twins room. “Just send it, you know she’ll say yes.”

But that’s the problem, he doesn’t know that.

“Wood we’ve thrown six times in the past month, she’s come once.” Fred reminds him of the painful fact that it seems like you’re just not that into him. “If I was sure she was gonna say yes I would have done it by now.”

George snatches his twin’s phone from his hands, copying the now final draft of this overly thought out text asking you to his date party. Before Fred can spring up from his bed, George has already got the message pasted into Fred’s text chain with you and hit send, making the color drain from his twin’s face.

“Are you fucking serious, George.” Fred finally reaches his younger brother and tackles him to the ground. “I barely read through it she’s gonna think I’m a fucking weirdo.”

George is able to shake his brother off of him, bursting out laughing with Oliver at Fred’s crazed state. George knew Fred had feelings for you, well practically every who spoke to a drunk him for more that ten minutes knew, but it was still comical to see his twin get so worked up over a girl he hadn’t even slept with yet.

“Fred you’ve been reading the stupid thing for an hour now,” He points out, Oliver nods his head in agreement. “What’s the worst that could happen? Huh? She says no and you ask one of the eight hundred other girls who fawn over you every chance they get. I know you like her Freddie but this isn’t a life or death thing.”

As Fred caught his breath from his outburst, he knew George had a point. He wouldn’t drop dead if you rejected his offer, but it sure help like he would.

hey idk if you’ve heard but our date party is this saturday and i was wondering if you would want to come

Your phone lights up just as you sit down to eat dinner with a couple of your friends. Once you see the name fred weasley next to the notification your heart stops. Taking y/f/n’s hand in yours, you turn the screen so she can read it. Her lips turn up in a grin as she squeezes your hand.

“I told you he would ask you,” She squeals, shaking her shoulders in her little ‘happy dance’ as she likes to put it. “Draco won’t stop talking about how tweaked Weasley’s been over some stupid text. I knew it was about you, I just knew it.”

You laugh at her imitation of her boyfriend, knowing it’s not far off from how he actually sounds. You reread the text probably thirty times, feeling even more giddy over such a simple and honestly not very personal text, but you don’t care. He asked you.

You spend far less time crafting a response than Fred did writing the initial text to you. If what y/f/n said is true and he really mulled over this for days, you may pass out.

i’d love to :)

The love seemed a bit overboard in your opinion, but y/f/n convinced you that it was a perfect response. You didn’t allow yourself to start looking for possible dress options until he really asked you, afraid you might jinx it if you bought a dress prematurely. Now, however, you’re on a time crunch. Someone in the house had to have something you could borrow. That night you try on at least ten dresses, all the girls on your floor flooding your room gushing over the fact that the Fred Weasley is taking you to his date party. He’s someone nearly everyone knows, and if they didn’t they were probably a geed, or lived in sophomore slums.

You finally land on a dark blue, spaghetti strapped sequin dress that clung tight to your curves. While nearly every dress you tried on felt like it might work, this is champagne and shackles after all, you have to dress to impress. Y/f/n won’t stop talking about what Fred will do the minute he sees you in the dress, praying she gets to watch his jaw drop. The two of you stay up late into the night again mushing over the thought of the two of you being swept off your feet by beta boys, the same boys you could hardly think about a month ago without becoming nauseous.

pregames at the house, malfoy and i will come by yours to grab you and y/f/n at 6:30

The text comes in Friday night. You can hardly contain the bubbling feeling in your stomach. As much as you feel like you’re sixteen years old again, you don’t care. You’ve finally joined the ninety percent of girls on greek row in one category, you’re crushing on Fred Weasley.

As the day finally rolls around, Fred is surprisingly back to his calm and collected demeanor. As much as the boys, and to be honest he himself, expected him to be bouncing off the walls over a slew of what if’s regarding the night ahead of him, he was rather calm about it all. He’s one half of the coveted Weasley Twins after all, he has a reputation to uphold.

The same cannot be said for you. As you curl your hair and apply your makeup to perfection, you can’t stop your knee from bouncing under the vanity counter you’re sat in front of. What if he secretly thinks you look bad in your dress? That you look like you tried to hard? As much as y/f/n tried to remind you of the fact that he was the one nervous about asking you, nothing seems to ease your growing anxiety. The hours tick closer to six-thirty and you sit patiently on your bed, completely ready and aimlessly scrolling through your socials to keep your mind off of the fact that in only twenty minutes Fred and Draco would be at your door to take you back to beta. The actual date party would be at one of the satellite houses, the penthouse of a nearby apartment paid for by betas massive budget.

Y/f/n takes your hand and forces you to look at her.

“Y/n,” She begins, now holding both of your hands between hers. “You are the hottest bitch this campus has ever seen. No one, not even Fred Weasley, deserves to be blessed with the absolute vision you are right now, but I guess he’ll have to do.”

You laugh at her attempt to hype you up in ten hopes that the knots in your stomach fade away. They partially do, but part of you is still in shambles over the thought of seeing him. He probably looks like even more of a greek god in a suit. Y/f/n’s phone buzzes with an ever so poetic ‘here’ text from her boyfriend and she gives your hands one more squeeze before dragging you down the staircase of your house. The boys are waiting just beyond the lawn, the same one you kissed Fred on weeks ago. The two of them have their hands in their pockets, looking like they’re deep in conversation, not even noticing that you and y/f/n are standing walking toward them.

He’s wearing a dark gray suit with a white button down with the top three buttons undone. His hair is perfectly messy. You didn’t even think it was possible for him to get any hotter, but here he is.

The boys turn their heads and immediately stop their conversation. The blonde’s face turns up in a smirk as his eyes trail over y/f/n’s body, but Fred is standing perfectly still with his mouth slightly agape as he watches you come closer to him. His cool and collected affect quickly runs out of his body as he watches your dress glitter under the street light.

“Told you.” Y/f/n whispers in your ear before she drops your hand to meet her boyfriend.

Draco greets y/f/n with a kiss and Fred pulls you into a hug. You melt at his touch. Even in the heels you borrowed from y/f/n, he still towers over you, his chin resting on top of your head.

“You look...” Fred trails off, trying to find the words to describe the sight in front of him. Heavenly, goddess like, like he might just skip the date party and get down on one knee. “...incredible.”

You muster up whatever confidence you have in the midst of your imposing anxiety to give him a somewhat composed reply. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Weasley.”

That heart-melting, mind-scrambling smile returns to his lips before the four of you begin walking what to the beta house. Fred keeps his hand on the small of your back the entire walk, desperately trying to keep you close to him.

The ungodly amount of alcohol you consume at the pregame seems to overtake any remaining worries in your body. Fred never leaves your side, as if you’re already cuffed together before you even arrive at the function itself. You talk with George and Oliver again, and meet some of Fred’s other fraternity brothers like Lee Jordan and Theo Nott. They all seem to know who you are before you can even introduce yourself. It would be difficult to not know your face after watching fred gawk over your every instagram post. Any sort of reservations you once held about the beta boys melt away. They may be wildly intimidating to a stranger that passed them on the street, but watching the boys sing along to whatever song is blasting through the speaker while dancing like they’ve just learned to walk shows you that they’re like every other boy you’ve met.

The walk to the penthouse is short, but it seems to take forever to reign everyone in everyone once in a while. Fred is continuously checking up on you, grasping your hand or your waist, making sure you aren’t cold in your dress. The second you make it to the penthouse you’re immediately cuffed to the red haired boy and handed a comically large bottle of champagne and told the rules.

No unshackling until you’ve finished the bottle.

The party is far more cramped than the one in their backyard. You can’t bring yourself to care about the occasionally bumps from someone in the crowd or the growing smell of alcohol around you. You’re completely consumed by the angelic giant dancing with you. Even with the handcuffs, Fred’s fingers are still intertwined with yours as his other hand is holding you close to his body, roaming from your waist to your back and over your ass. Anytime you go to open the bottle you’d been given at the door to continue on feeding the buzzed state you’ve been in since you arrived at the beta house, Fred stops you. He still grabs you drinks from the makeshift bar and pulls you into the ‘shot room’ to send copious amounts of burning liquor down your throat, but the bottle stays off limits.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about you this month, y/n.” Fred hiccups his way through his confession as his lips are pressed close to your ear to make sure you hear every word he says over the loud music. “You do something to me.”

You know whatever you try to say will come out slurred, so you do the next best thing you can think of to tell him that you’re feeling the same way. You wrap your free hand behind his neck to press your lips to his. He immediately pulls you closer into him like he was a dying man grasping onto his only source of oxygen. Again, with your lips tangled in his, you’re suddenly the only two in the room. This moment is one you know will occupy your thoughts until the end of time. Held by the boy you’re completely enamored with as the world seems to stop around you. In every sense of the word, it is perfect.

When you pull away from each other to gasp for air, you move your lips to his ear.

“Why can’t I open the champagne?”

He leans back to look you in the eyes. The colored led lights changing on his face make him somehow even more breathtaking. That same smile appears on his lips before he leans down toward you again.

“I don’t want to finish it,” He yells over the bass of the speaker. “I want you to be stuck with me for as long as possible.”

Without a second thought, you pull your hands together to take the bottle from Fred’s free hand to pop the cork off the top before he can stop you. You bring the freshly opened champagne to your lips and take a swig before offering it over to him. His brows furrow in confusion, wondering if maybe you do want to be unchained from him.

“Freddie, if you think it’s going to take an empty bottle to get rid of me you’re wrong,” You try to shout, even in all the noise he hears you and his chest tightens. “Cuffed or not, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

He doesn’t reply, he simply takes the bottle from your hand and begins to chugs the fizzy drink, spilling over his face slightly. Watching him fumble over the liquid you know isn’t easy to take in large amounts, you can’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you. The words of Kid Cudi’s Pursuit of Happiness flood yours ears and you pull yourself right back against Fred’s body. He pulls the bottle from his mouth and hands it back to you before bringing his hand to your cheek to meet your lips once again. You’re sure you’re perfectly done hair and makeup is a wreck by now but your mind is continuously pulled back to the impossible reality that you’re kissing Fred Weasley. Of all the girls in the party, on this campus that flock to his side any chance they get, you’re the one that Fred Weasley suddenly became nervous around. The one he spent days wracking his brain to craft the perfect image of himself to.

His hand entangles in your more than likely sweaty hair, keeping you held exactly in place against his body as his hips sway against yours. His lips move from yours to your jaw, placing quick and light kisses across the skin. Something that would under any circumstance feel sexually driven feels lighthearted, pulling numerous giggles from your lips. His hand wanders down to your side and in a swift motion begins to tickle you through you dress. You laugh only become louder as you try to keep from doubling over.

“Fred!” You squeal through the stream of giggles. “Freddie stop!”

When you begin to snort, Fred loses it. He can no longer contain his stoic face he had on when he began to tease you. You’re eventually pulled from the party, Freds hand clasping yours as he discards the empty bottle in some corner of the penthouse and brings you to be unchained from him by the pledges standing by the entrance. Even with the cuffs off your wrists, you’re still chained to him as if you’re forced to be. 

Before you can leave the apartment, Fred’s jacket is shrugged from his shoulders and placed around yours. You pull yours arms through the sleeves that are obviously too long for you. “What a gentleman.”

“Can’t have you catching a cold,” He replies, holding you by your waist as you walk back to the beta house. You’ve never seen it so empty or quiet, no one around with the exception of a few boys studying in their lounge. You return to the bedroom you were in only hours ago, it’s a mess from the pregame but you’re able to make out Fred’s bed from his brothers. Massive movie posters and stolen items from various sororities hanging on the walls around his bed, the Good Will Hunting poster above the bed with the blue comforter being a dead giveaway that it belonged to Fred. He told you it was his favorite one night.

“You don’t have to, but you’re welcome to crash here,” He asks, beginning unbutton his now stained dress shirt, revealing his toned abdomen. It’s a sight you don’t think you’ll ever quite get used to. You stop yourself from nearly drooling and shake yourself back to reality. “You can borrow some clothes, probably be pretty big on you but they’d be better than that dress.”

He already has a tee shirt and boxers held out for you. He’s secretly hoping you’re too tired to walk back to your own house so he can spend a little while longer with you. Taking the clothing from his hands, you begin to slip the straps of your dress down, signalling Fred to immediately turn around to give you some privacy. You mouth a quick oh my god to yourself before continuing the change into the boy’s clothing.

“You can turn around,” You tell him and his eyes meet yours once again. He gives you a quick once over before his lips break out in a smile. “What? What are you so smiley over?”

“I like you in my clothes.”

Immediately your heart begins to hammer in your chest as your cheeks begin to heat up. Exhaustion washes over you, the lack of sleep you got in the past week due to your constant overthinking finally catch up to you. After switching off the lights, he pulls back him dark comforter to let you slip into the warmth of his bed. As soon as your settled you turn on your side to face him. You’re both quiet, wordlessly taking in the sight of each other.

“I like you, y/n. A lot,” He finally breaks the silence. You can’t help but wonder if he’s drunker than he’s let on. He’s not, he knows exactly what he’s saying and means every word. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.”

You reach over to trace your finger up his defined cheek bones before resting your palm on the side of his face. His arm is lazily slung over your waist, absentmindedly keeping you close to him. You lean in further, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“I like you, Freddie, more than you know,” You confess. Your heart has never felt more full, you’re sure this whole month has been a dream and every second you’re terrified to wake up without even knowing Fred Weasley like you do now. “Thank you for taking me tonight.”

He softly chuckles, his hand moving up your body to stroke through your hair. Even in the dark you can see his bright smile, you’re new favorite sight. “I should be the one thanking you,” He tells you. “You have no idea how nervous I was that you wouldn’t come.”

You continue to shift closer to him, trying to expel the practically nonexistent space between the two of you. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, finding his steady pulse quite calming. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Freddie.”

“I like it when you call me Freddie.”

You hum a response, suddenly becoming too tired to even speak. The warmth of his body radiating against yours mixed with the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you further into a deep sleep. His arms return to being wrapped around your waist, drinking in this moment and silently praying in would last forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before whispering, “Goodnight, y/n.”

Hours later George, Lee and Oliver stumble into the room, all with slices of pizza from the late night shop down the street and are met with the sight of you and Fred tangled in the sheets, light snores coming from the red haired boy. They wish they could find something about the moment that they would tease him about later, but they come up short. The image laid out in front of them looks like it was taken straight from a movie.

Needless to say your constant thoughts of the beta boy are soon replaced by his presence anywhere and everywhere you go. You aren’t sure of many things in life, but you’re certain that he was made for you and you for him.

tags:

@justmesadgirl @greyspilot @sunflowerdarlingx

[eintsein]

After a few years of trial and error, I think I've finally found the perfect organization method.

In the early years of high school, I had a bullet journal. I was an artsy kid who found a way to combine art with organization in a way that benefited other parts of my life.

However, as I approached the end of high school, my schedule got busier, and I was involved in a lot more things, so owning a bullet journal was less practical. Because of that, I switched to an app called Edo Agenda.

I continued with digital planning in college since I knew I wasn't going to have as much time. But all the apps I tried out—Taskade, Actions by Moleskine, Any.do, Todoist, Wunderlist—weren't suited to my planning and organizational needs. They didn't have the specific functions I required and didn't incorporate an organization system I liked to use. The predefined apps were too restraining, but the more customizable apps weren't customizable enough.

So then I switched to a bare bones, uber minimalist bullet journal method. That worked pretty well my second semester. It was simple, portable, and most importantly, flexible—all the things one could wish for in a planning system. However, it wasn't always the most convenient to use since I couldn't effectively integrate all the different aspects of my life, which, to no surprise, is mostly recorded digitally.

There was just one huge problem with my digital organization system that made me hesitant to switch back in the first place: everything was fragmented. Notes were in Google Docs. Financial records were in Google Sheets. To-Do Lists were in my bullet journal. Team projects were in Trello. My poetry was on Bear. Things I wanted to try are carelessly pinned to random pinterest boards or added to my YouTube "watch later" playlist. It was a mess.

Over the summer, I found out about Notion from a friend, and I thought, this has so much potential, it could even be exactly what I need. It's essentially like an empty notebook on your computer with functions that make it 10x more powerful. Notion allows you to integrate all aspects of your life and work into one app. Some of the advantages that have made me partial to Notion are:

Even greater customization level. Notion is a blank canvas with tons of predefined blocks and different file types. You can make databases, spreadsheets, Kanban boards, to do lists, etc. Also, you can remain connected to other digital services. You can link websites, collaborate with other users, use different structures (e.g. documents, databases, tasks), embed images and videos, etc. There are also tons of formatting options, e.g. text color, highlight, heading v. body text.

Better organization. Notion allows you to have pages within pages within pages within pages—an infinite hierarchy that you can organize with tables of contents. These pages are made of blocks, e.g. tables, checklists, boards, databases.  Both pages and blocks can be rearranged by simply dragging and dropping them to where you want them to be. In other words, I guess it's kind of like building a website to organize your life. Plus, their database feature is especially powerful as it allows you to connect all your data and get into as much detail as you wish (each entry in a database is its own page).

Templates. There are tons of templates created by both Notion and the community that you can use. These are especially helpful in the beginning since Notion does have a rather steep learning curve. There are template for almost every category: personal, planning, finance, job applications, design roadmap, etc. Check out their template gallery, this medium article called "10 Notion templates to inspire your use", or read on for my own examples!

Shortcuts. This makes typing and documenting so much faster. Notion uses Markdown, which is a text-to-HTML conversion tool, e.g. # = Heading 1, *, - = bullet point, etc.

Notion has some pretty awesome features, but how does one actually use it? Personally, I have four top-level pages: my planner, my personal journal, songwriting, and blogging.

Planner

I've been using my planner to, well, plan and track my day to day activities as well as my week and month. The way I've structured it is a calendar or monthly overview with links to pages of weekly overviews, and if needed, daily overviews within the weekly overview. This links things up so nicely, i.e. I don't have to be constantly flipping pages in my physical bullet journal or planner to find what I need.

I also have entertainment lists, which is mainly a table with all the shows I want to watch, the books I want to read, etc. I keep track of whether or not I've watched them, as well as my personal ratings. What I love most about this is that each entry is its own page, so I can type my notes for each book, show, or film and easily find them in the future. (Also the reason why I have plural “lists” instead of just one entertainment list is because you can filter entries by type of entertainment, e.g. movies, tv shows, books, articles.)

Personal

For personal notes, goals, journal entries, etc. This is kind of like an extension of my daily journal and just where I dump all my thoughts and keep track of the different aspects of my life: mental, emotional, spiritual, social, physical, and travel.

Another page I have is called "Stray Thoughts" and, well, it's pretty self explanatory. It's a lot easier to dump all my thoughts as they come and reorganize them later. Of course, this requires sacrificing the rawness of journaling, i.e. when the thoughts come and how you process them, which is why I still keep a regular journal that I write in daily.

Songwriting

I've been writing a lot of music over the summer and it's often hard to keep track of all of my songs and how far I've gotten in the songwriting process. So I created a table of songs - each entry of a song is a page with its lyrics. These are then tagged with the status of the lyrics (i.e. completed, in progress) and the status of the music itself (i.e. melody only, instrumental, mixing, mastering, revised). Eventually, I'll include demos in the database by embedding audio files in the document.

I have a separate section for inspiration and ideas, which is a kind of brain dump, e.g. words I think would make a good song, a certain theme for a song, a melody that's been stuck in my head, a vibe I'd like to try out, etc.

I've also been watching a lot of tutorials for music production and there's a section where I write my notes for that.

Eintsein

The last section of my Notion app is for this blog. Which has pages for

New posts. These are ideas for future posts, asks that I think would need longer answers, as well as posts that are currently in the draft stage (like this one was before I posted it)

Design assets. This is where I put all the visual branding material for Eintsein.com to be used in posts and any visual material on the blog.

FAQ. Having an FAQ document just makes it so much easier to make changes to your existing FAQ. Plus, if you ever change your FAQ theme, you just have to copy and paste what you already have.

Post directory. I keep track of all my previous masterposts, infographics, and generally longer and more comprehensive posts. It's the exact same as what you see on my Navigation page. And yes, the document contains direct links to the post.

New theme. A project I've been working on the past couple days is trying to create my own theme for my blog. This is where I put all my outlines, brainstorming notes, design inspiration, code snippets, etc.There are some pretty awesome features I’ve made use of in this page:

As you can probably tell, I'm absolutely obsessed with Notion since it has such awesome features and endless possibilities for customization. So far I've been using Notion for personal projects, which, since they are quite big in scale and have no set deadline, are important to organize well. My summer courses were only 6 weeks and weren't difficult to organize.

The formats above are just how I personally use notion. You could make some of your own, or if you don't think you want to build your pages from scratch, there are tons of templates to choose from. Here are some I think I'll be using in the near future and may be helpful for others as well, especially students like myself:

One drawback, however, is that Notion has a rather steep learning curve, but there are tons of tutorials online (especially YouTube) and I guarantee you it's all worth it.

Notion is not just a productivity app. It's a way to concretize your entire life.

Notion is free to use, but there are higher tiers that allow for more blocks, greater file size, etc. I use a personal account, which is $4 per month with unlimited block storage and no file upload limit (although I got it for $33/year). Personally I think the free plan would suit most people's needs, especially if you're not uploading large files.

[kickin-with-dixon]

Dreams Into Reality

Rick x Reader, Rosita, Maggie, Daryl 

Prompt 100: “So I had this really vivid dream….” 

Word Count: 1892

Warnings: NSFW 18+ , Language, Teasing 

PART 2 COMING TOMORROW! 

Masterlist | Tag Lists | Ask Me Anything | SPN Blog 

A gasp falls past your lips as you sit straight up in bed. The cool air sends chills over your body as it touches the layer of sweat that broke out in your sleep. “What the hell?” You pant, “What?” The confusion of what your dream consisted of fogged everything else in your brain. Good luck getting through today. 

You pull your shirt and jeans on, lace up your boots, and head downstairs. Rosita’s sitting at the bar finishing off the apple in her hand,” You okay?” She asks with a head tilt, “I heard you talking to yourself this morning. Did something happen?” 

Rounding the island in the middle of the kitchen, you shake your head, “I uh… no. I couldn’t find one of my boots is all.” Oh yeah , real convincing, you mentally kick yourself, glad your back is to her. 

She raises her brow, not quite buying it, but she doesn’t really care enough to press any further. “Oh, okay. whatever .”  

You look around the kitchen, “Hey, are there any of those apples left?”

“In the basket.” She says pointing towards the sink. 

“Thanks,” you grab one and head for the door. She raises her hand and mumbles something as she walks off in the other direction. The sun hits your skin as you step out onto the porch, and you sigh, grateful for a beautiful day after the rain you’ve had. 

Just as you take a bite of your apple, Rick comes strolling by. He smiles up to you waving, “Mornin’ Y/N.” You just about choke on the piece of apple at the sight, and have to fight the onslaught of images from your dream that are replaying. That damn smirk. He was so cocky in the dream. Holy hell. Today’s gonna be fun. You do your best to stifle the heat flooding to your cheeks and the one settling in your core, offering a simple wave back. 

As soon as he’s gone, you take a hesitant step off the porch and head over to your post at the lookout out front. It’s a quiet morning, not much activity. After about an hour, someone climbs up the ladder to the platform, “Hey! How’s it looking today?”, the familiar drawl of Rick’s voice triggering new thoughts. Echoes of the filthy things he’d said start floating around in your head. There’s an internal battle happening. You absolutely don’t want to make any sort of eye contact right now, but that’d be a dead giveaway, and he’d ask you what’s wrong. 

Finally, you look up to see Rick’s crystal blue eyes trained on you. Oh shit bad idea. Bad idea. “Uh.. pretty quiet. Only seen one walker.” 

“Good,” he smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder,”Let me know if that changes.” Your breath hitches as you think about the feel of his rough, calloused hands against your bare skin. 

Later in the afternoon, there’s a meeting about the upcoming run in the morning. Rick’s making it impossible to focus on any of it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he knows and is messing with you. He keeps stealing glances, and god the way he looks at you. As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but to squirm under his gaze, a rosy tinge staining your cheeks. 

Maggie starts picking up on it, watching you more closely. “Alright so it’s settled,” the clap of Rick’s hands snapping you back to reality, “Daryl, Abraham, and Sasha will head in from the East, Y/N and I from the West.” Your eyes go so wide they probably look like they’re about to pop straight out of your head, and Maggie caught every bit of it. You’d been so out of it, you weren’t aware that was the arrangement being discussed. How the hell am I supposed to be trapped in a car with him for hours?!

 While you’re walking back to your house from the meeting, and hand grabs your arm, yanking you between two of the other homes on the block. “Maggie! What the hell!?” 

She leans in, “Yeah exactly, what the hell?!”

“Excuse me?” You say, trying to play innocent.

 Her eyes scan your face, and then land right on your eyes. They could damn sure see straight into your soul, “Oh I saw the way you were acting in there. Did something happen between you and Rick?” She’s not really angry about there potentially being something going on, but rather that you haven’t told her. She quickly became like a sister to you after you’d joined the group. You tell each other everything. 

You look to the ground, kicking a stray rock around by your feet, “Uh… not exactly.” 

She shakes her head, “What does that mean?” 

Your cheeks flush for the fifteenth time, “So I had this really vivid dream…” 

“Oh, honey.” 

“Yea…. and I mean like really vivid and now I can’t look at him or be near him without thinking about it.” You admit. 

She sighs, “Well I mean I guess that would explain why you were so weird about going with him. You’ve ridden with him before so I didn’t understand why that was such a big deal.” 

You look at her with pleading eyes, “Maggie, how the hell am I supposed to do this?” 

She just shrugs, “I don’t know. But it’s not like you can go tell him no. Not now. Not unless you wanna tell him why you can’t be around him.” She starts laughing, “Sorry I can’t ride with you, I think about you-”. 

“Shut up.” You punch her in the arm, and walk away, leaving her still giggling in the alley. 

The next morning you head to the front gate where cars were being stocked and weapons checked. You bite your lip as the reality of what’s to come sets in. Rick comes up behind you, brushing his hand along your back as he steps towards the car, “You ready?” 

“Huh? Oh uh yea.” You look around at pretty much anyone but him, “Good to go.”  Real smooth, Y/N.

He smiles at you, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, “Well alright then.” He raises his hand, moving it in a circular motion, “Let’s load up.” 

About fifteen minutes into the drive, Rick looks over at you, “Hey, you okay?” His voice conveys genuine concern, not just for the sake of his safety on the run, but for your well being. “You’ve been awful quiet since yesterday.” He rests his hand on your thigh, “Did somethin’ happen?” 

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. “Um, Not. not really. I just. I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking.” 

“Oh yea? Anything I can help with?” Oh god, he did not just ask that. “I mean. I know I’m not Maggie, but I can do my best.” 

You look out the window desperately trying to hide the ever growing redness appearing on your face. After a second of regaining your composure, you finally speak up. “Thanks, but I already talked to her about it. Not much to do honestly.” You can feel his eyes on you, “It was just a strange dream.” 

Rick’s a smart man. He’s picked up on all your little moments. Truth is, he just likes to watch you try to hide it. “Alright. I get that. Should the need arise, I’m here”, he says rubbing your thigh lightly. 

The rest of the ride spent in mutual silence, each of you stealing glances at the other. The time for squirming, and nerves has passed when you turn the corner about two miles out from the target. Game faces have to be on. There’s no room for anything else. 

No casualties, no shit for once, just a successful run. “Meet y’all back home?” Daryl asks as he shuts the hatch on the SUV. 

Rick looks around, “Nah, saw a couple little places that I wanna check out.” You can’t help but give him the wtf are you talking about look. There was nothing out there. “Go ahead back, we’ll be back soon.” Daryl nods in agreement. 

Once they’re gone you turn to Rick with a boldness you’ve lacked in the past 24 hours, “What the hell are you talking about? There’s nothing out here, Rick.” 

“Oh, I know.” He has a smug look on his face when he turns back toward you. “I wanna talk more about this dream you had.” Fuck. “It’s got you really messed up, huh?” 

“ I wouldn’t say-” 

He shakes his head, “Y/N, please. I’ve noticed a lot over the last 24 hours,” He steps towards you, “You won’t look me in the eye, hell, you avoid me if you can.” He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him, “Oh and this is my favorite. That nice shade of pink in your cheeks.” His eyes scan over your face, “Tell me, Y/N, was I in your dream?” 

Damn cocky asshole. There’s no use in lying, he’ll see right through it. “Yes.” 

He smirks, running his free hand over the back of your head, “Mhmm. I could see it the minute I saw you in the meeting. You wouldn’t look if I was looking at you, but oh when you thought I looked away, those eyes were begging me to fuck you.” Your breath catches as he backs you up against the van, “Is that what you were dreaming about?” 

His strong arms trap you against the warm metal, suddenly making you feel small. “I…mmm.”  A small escapes your lips as his travel along your neck. 

The scratch of his beard causes a delightful shiver to run down your spine , “Use your words, babygirl.” 

“Y-yes.” 

He pulls back, head tilted, “Yes, what? I wanna hear you say it.” 

 “Yes. I dreamed of you” His brow raises, and he stares you down, not satisfied with your answer, “fucking me.” 

That damn smirk spreads across his face once more, “There it is.” He shifts his weight, and places his hands on either side of your head. “Do you want that? Do you want me to fuck you?” 

“Yes,” Your voice barely above a whisper, “Please, Rick.” 

A low growl rips from his chest as his lips capture yours in a demanding kiss. There’s fire behind every movement. Has he been thinking about this too? As if he read your mind, he breaks the kiss, and spins you around so that your back is to him, “I’ve wanted this for so long. You don’t know how hard it’s been to watch you everyday not being able to do a damn thing about it.” Rough hands come up to cup your breasts as his lips and teeth drag over the sensitive skin of your neck. “God, it took everything in me not to take you right then in that meeting yesterday.” 

Gasps fall past your lips as his hips grind into yours, letting you feel just how bad he wants you. “Rick…” 

His finger runs over the soft flesh of your lips and he lets out a groan, “Oh sweetheart…” Breath fans over your ear, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sweeter sound than that.” His deft fingers make quick work of undoing your belt and jeans, “Get in the van.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PART 2 COMING TOMORROW! 

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Talk to me people! Let’s be friends! 

I love you all dearly! Til next time! 

[pastelchris]

just like oranges.

“wonwoo stiffened beside him, holding his breath for a couple of seconds, he wished there was a button to disappear from there, become invisible or something.”

☀︎︎PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x kim mingyu

☀︎︎GENRES: angst, fluff, oneshot, childhood friends!au, highschool!au

☀︎︎WARNINGS: mention of domestic violence, mention of bruises, mention of violence.

author’s note: hello <3 i’m back with another fluffy angst. i was eating an orange while my dad was screaming to my mum and brother and i got the inspiration. the rest is purely fictional tho. for a better context, the place that i imagined was similar / taken from steven universe. i just love the light effects so much and the coloring is amazing, i love it so much. i want you to read it while thinking about oranges smell and a warm agust sunset. i made this thinking about a platonic relationship but it’s up to you to decide! i hope you’ll like it as much as i did <3

“usually my dad's screams last an orange. i’d watch him walk around the house angrily while screaming and gesturing at my brother, my mom, and anyone who would get in his way at the moment. i’d just swing my legs, sitting comfortably on the kitchen table, peeling my orange, and eating over the sound of his screams. sometimes we’d look at each other, then i’d do my best not to betray any expression, hoping that he wouldn’t have anything to say to me. most of the time it would work, and i’d just stare at the view of his shoulders as he walks away, then i’d go back to my orange. but sometimes I’d stare back a second too long, maybe I wouldn’t hold my emotions enough, so instead of his shoulders, I’d see the shadow of a hand or a foot, and suddenly the orange would be nothing but a crushed pulp on the ground.”

this was one of those days, he said to himself, swinging his legs into the void while he looks at the sea from above a wall: it's almost sunset, and the pink and violet of the sunset match the shades on his skin, making it look like a colorful yet bitter painting of despair.

he slowly closes his eyes, enjoying the quietness of the place, healing after all of the noise he had to stand at home.

or so he tries, until a too well-known noise comes to his ears.

« WONWOO !!!! » he screams, running towards him, waving his arms around.

mingyu has always been pretty, to him at least, since the first time he saw him, playing basketball in the school’s gym, and it’s not news, they’re still in high school, but everyone reminds him of his looks as soon as they get the chance, telling hem that one day he’ll make it big.

but to wonwoo, he’s always been pretty outside And inside, and now, messy hair and skin glowing under the sun, he’s even prettier than usual.

he hears his voice again, calling for him with such an excitement that only puppies have, wonwoo greets him back, hiding the bruises under his sleeves.

« good afternoon to you too mingyu. where are you running to?»

« to you of course » he rolled his eyes, jumping up and sitting next to him, enjoying the warm breeze.

« i tried to call you the whole day but you straight up ignored me, am i that annoying?» mingyu pouts at him, jokingly putting up a scene.

« i promise you i wasn’t ignoring you, gyu. i just had lots of homework to do, some of us actually need to study you know? »

« yeah, and i feel sorry for you...must be hard to have such a small brain »

« oh shut up you idiot » wonwoo sighed, turning back to face the beach, bringing up his legs to hug them and slightly flinching as he hits one of the bruises.

« hey woo, wanna swim? the weather is perfect today» gyu asks him, the same expression of a labrador who wants to go out.

« i think i’ll pass today, but you can go! i’ll watch you from here » wonwoo slightly smiled, chin resting on his knees.

« but i want you to come with meeee pleaseeeeeee » mingyu clung to his arm like a little kid, making the other flinch in pain unintentionally.

gyu looked up at him confused, clinging again on his arm and watching him thin his eyes in pain, looking away.

« what’s wrong woo? did you get you hurt?» he sounded concerned, hand still around his bicep

« d-don’t worry about it, i just stumbled on the door earlier...it’s fine, i’m fine»

« then why won’t you look at me?»

wonwoo stiffed, an unpleasant feeling filling the pit of his stomach: guilt.

he always told mingyu everything, the good and the bad, he never kept anything from him before, well, obviously, everything but episodes like those.

« you always avoid my gaze when you’re lying, has anyone ever told you you’re a really really shitty liar?» gyu pouted like a kid, slightly frowning as a thought took shape in his mind.

« could it be tha-»

« i really am okay mingyu, stop asking please » wonwoo tried to persuade him, brushing off the nervousness with a little laugh.

« but i don’t think i believe you » gyu answered, still looking at him in the hope to find his eyes.

« well i think that’s a You problem, i’m saying the truth-»

« then why won’t you look at me?»

« because i don’t want to.»

« but you never avoid my gaz-»

« JESUS CHRIST WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?» wonwoo finally snapped, looking back at him with piercing black eyes and grinned teeth.

« i just want you to look at me while you tell me the truth...i don’t like it when you lie...» mingyu bit the inside of his cheek, he never intended to make the other angry, but he also didn’t like it when people lied to him, especially since he was the last to judge another over the truth.

« well fine then, i don’t feel like swimming today because all of my body- and i mean Every Single Inch of my body Hurts like hell and you’re making it very hard for me to enjoy some fresh air before coming back inside. » wonwoo breathed in, frowning even more and staring at the sea.

« was it your dad?»

wonwoo stiffened beside him, holding his breath for a couple of seconds, he wished there was a button to disappear from there, become invisible or something.

instead, he just kept silent, staring at the beautiful view in front of him, while mingyu tried to understand his expression.

« i actually had a hunch but you didn’t let me finish, i guess i’ll take your silence as a yes...can you look at me?»

no answer.

gyu waited for a couple of minutes, thinking of a way to get the other to acknowledge his presence beside him.

« is it the first time he does it?»

still no answer, but he could sense the stiffness in wonwoo’s posture, the way his shoulder closed up as if to protect him, he somewhat curled up a bit, making it even harder for mingyu to see him in the face.

« does he do it often?»

this time he got an answer, a slight shaking of the other’s head, telling him that, luckily, it wasn’t a frequent thing, which made it bearable.

« mhnm....i see....i’m sorry if i forced you to open up woo...i just...i want to be as close as possible to you, i want you to trust me with every little secret you keep inside, and most of all, i want you to come to me when you need help or confort, i want to be a still point in your life but i don’t think i’ll ever be able to achieve such goal if you keep acting like a stray cat to me...» mingyu’s words came out rushed, they left him out of breath and he finished the sentence in a whisper, and still, wonwoo noticed the slight flinch of his hand, the way he closed it as a fist; he noticed his posture got stiffer, his eyes lost the playful light they usually had, and became two sharp daggers, staring at him.

« i’m sorry if i made you feel pressured to tell me, i won’t ask anything again but instead wait for you to tell me, but please, keep it in mind okay? come to me first if anything happens, alright? i promise you i’ll be by your side from dust ‘til dawn if you let me.” mingyu was a pretty loud person, he had a deep pouty voice but always talked as if he was selling fresh fishes in the morning, so he didn’t hear wonwoo’s muffled sobs at first, just when he looked at his eyes, and saw them puffy and teary, he realized something was off.

« woo?-»

he couldn’t even finish the sentence that a pair of marked arms flew around his neck, hugging him close to the other’s chest.

wonwoo’s voice was tore from the sobs and the pain

«thank you so much gyu, you really are my safe place»

wonwoo kept him closer to himself, burying his face on the other’s hair, closing his eyes.

the sunset light turned them both into golden statues, just like a painting they perfectly fitted into each other, mingyu’s skin glowing like caramel and wonwoo’s as light and shiny as porcelain, marked by violet and red-ish doodles.

« do you wanna swim now?»

« are you fucking dumb i literally look / and feel / like a war survivor right now »

« right m sorry»

«....»

«.....»

«.....»

«pizza?»

« yup, definitely up for that.»

the end.

[myownworstenemyyy]

All I Wanted - Part 10

a Javier Peña x Reader series

Word count: 4.9k (gif by @pedropcl​)

Warnings: angst, trauma triggers (mentions of blood/gore), SMUT, unprotected sex, mentions of scars, fluff, mentions of vomiting, ANGST, cliffhanger (let me know if i need to add something please!)

S/O: my lovely Tumblr wife Sarinaaa @captainclod​ 😘

A/N: this takes place right after part 9 (the morning after, anyone? 😏) i really hope y’all enjoy it! thanks for reading 🥰 (masterlist in bio)

Part 10 – Misguided Ghosts

You’ve been awake for some time now but you’re so comfortable in Javier’s warm embrace, you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed. He has one arm draped over your middle and his face is buried in your hair, his breaths tickling the skin on your neck. Throughout the night you would feel him pull you closer to his body, but even in his unconscious state, he was mindful not to squeeze you too tightly so as to avoid exacerbating your injuries. 

Occasionally you would hear him mumbling in his sleep, things like sí, mi amor and love you and be safe. And you’d smile to yourself, knowing he was dreaming of you. 

Eres el amor de mi vida, he had promised when he was making love to you - when you were making love to each other. The moment he said those words it was like the tether between your souls solidified, forming an unbreakable bond that both fills you up and steals the air from your lungs. Since that moment, every breath you take is like the first - so new and pure. You see the world with brand new eyes and you know you’ll never be the same.

Javi stirs behind you and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest, sleepily planting a kiss just behind your ear. You think he might be waking up but then you hear his breathing even out again and you chuckle lightly at how exhausted he must be after your activities from the night before.

You wish you could stay like this forever, but your bladder seems to think otherwise. You intertwine your fingers with his and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, before you slowly slip out from under his heavy arm.

“¿A...dónde vas, hermosa?” he whispers when you stand up from the bed. You turn and find him watching you with sleepy half-lidded eyes. His lips are plump and slightly pursed and you can’t resist pressing a kiss to them. He instantly deepens the kiss as he plunges his tongue into your mouth, pulling a moan from you. 

He places his hands on your hips and starts pulling you back onto the bad. Reluctantly, you press a hand to his chest, whispering against his lips, “bathroom.” You chuckle when he pouts and lets his head fall back against the pillows, “hurry back,” he pleads and you almost roll your eyes at the childlike expression on his face.

You shake your head with a smile as you turn towards the bathroom. When you reach for the doorknob you hear him call your name, making you turn back towards him with questioning eyes. After a beat of silence, which he spends ogling your naked body, you fight a blush and breathe, “Yes, Javi?” and you place a hand on your hips as you face his heated gaze head-on.

His lust-filled eyes travel back up your body and finally land on your eyes, saying, “Nothing, I’m just - admiring,” while he licks his lips. Feeling bold, you wink at him and bite your lip, making sure to turn extra slow as you saunter into the bathroom and close the door with a click. 

You lock it out of habit and lean against the door as you place a hand on your stomach, trying to calm the butterflies that took flight just from that small interaction with Javier - he is just pure sex, you sigh as you push away from the door.

After you’ve done your business, you look at yourself in the mirror and your jaw drops when you see how disheveled your hair is, though your skin practically glows. You run your fingers through your hair, trying to untangle the numerous knots but with little luck, so you decide to just take a shower - especially after you realize how…sticky your skin feels. 

Without a second thought, you step into the shower and turn the water on. Normally the water takes only a matter of seconds to turn warm, thanks to the sweltering heat this time of year. But as soon as you feel the freezing temperature on your skin, your stomach drops and your heart hammers in your chest. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as goosebumps rise all over your skin. “No,” you croak out as you lean against the tile wall for support but find yourself sliding downward, knocking over a couple bottles of soap along the way. Your vision becomes blurry as the memories flash in your mind–

You’re then greeted with a bucket of ice water to the face as a voice exclaims “MIRA quién por fin se despertó,” the sound echoing off the walls and making your eardrums ache.

“¿Sabes qué, putana? I change my mind - why don’t you shut the fuck up so I can actually enjoy what I’m about to do to you.”  

“No! Stop–p-please,” you screw your eyes shut and cover your ears to block out the loud banging coming from somewhere in the room as another wave of memories crashes down on you.

“Good girl,” Serpiente says before he lowers the knife and plunges it into your stomach.

“Hey, stay awake. You’re gonna be OK, mi amor, I promise,” Javier’s eyes frantically search yours for any indication that you’re hearing him. “‘Mi - amor’?” you whisper.

The rope burns into your wrists and ankles as Javier’s lifeless body is consumed by a river of blood, just before the monster slices his blade across your throat.

“NO!” you scream when you feel warm hands wrap around each of your arms. You push back as hard as you can but your back hits the wall and there’s nowhere for you to go. 

“Hermosa, it’s me! It’s Javi,” the concern in his voice breaks through your brain’s assault. You open your eyes, trying to catch your breath but it’s like your lungs refuse to expand, making it impossible to breathe. You see spots in your vision and find his eyes through the steam of the now-hot shower. He’s somehow managed to squeeze into the small bathtub with you, his knees pushing against yours as he squats in front of you with the water from the shower raining down his naked back. He brings his hands to your face, saying, “Breathe - it’s okay. I’m here - you’re safe, mi amor.” 

Your teeth are chattering and your whole body shakes uncontrollably. It’s like you’re still in that chair, frozen to the bone though the water in the bath is almost boiling hot. “Th-the w-w-water,” you stammer and as soon as Javi understands what you’re saying he turns and shuts the water off with one aggressive turn of his wrist. “There - it’s off. OK? You’re safe,” he keeps repeating until the look of sheer terror on your face crumples with a shuddering sob.

Your head would’ve fallen forward against your knees if Javi wasn’t holding it in his hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the sides of your cheeks as you weep. He doesn’t try to shush you or stop you from shedding the tears that have been building up inside you ever since the day he found you. He just sits with you as he alternates between resting his forehead against yours and pressing gentle kisses to your skin, quietly reminding you, “Aquí estoy - you’re safe.” 

When your breathing finally calms down and you regain control over your limbs, you bring your hands to Javi’s wrists, causing him to lean back and stare at you with concerned eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” he asks quietly as he brushes hair away from your face.

You stare back at him for a second, then without warning, you crash your lips against his and wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer when he starts pulling back from you. You trace your tongue along the seam of his lips until he allows you entrance and when he does, you plunge into his mouth with a moan. He puts his hands on your hips, his fingers brushing the undersides of your breasts and you break away with a gasp, your chest heaving against his.

“Fuck it out of me, Javi,” you breathe against his lips as he watches you with confused eyes. You place your hands on his shoulders for balance as you tuck your legs under you so that you’re kneeling in front of him, the tops of your thighs brushing against his shins.

You reach for one of his hands and place his palm against your throbbing center. “Wait–” he starts to pull his hand away but you tighten your grip, pleading, “Help me forget - please,” you swallow the lump in your throat as you search his eyes for - for what? Understanding? How could he possibly understand what’s going on with you when you don’t even understand it yourself? Christ - you were just having a panic attack and now you’re asking him to fuck you? 

What the fuck is wrong with me? 

Your shoulders drop in defeat as you look away from him, your bottom lip quivering from trying to contain another wave of tears rushing to the surface. Maybe I should just...leave. You look towards the door and notice that the doorknob is hanging from where it used to be embedded in the wooden door, and chipped pieces of wood litter the tile.

Jesus, he broke the fucking door. You look back at Javi who watches you with a worrisome expression. He holds one of your hands in his and when a stray tear falls down your cheek, he squeezes your hand. He swallows hard and shifts his body so that he’s on his knees, the two of you mirroring each other. 

“Please,” your voice is barely audible and you wonder if he even heard you when all he does is stare back at you - his expression unreadable. 

But then he’s reaching for you, his strong arms wrapping around you as he kisses a spark of life back into you. You almost sob from relief, and another emotion you don’t quite comprehend. He lifts your hips and helps you to your feet, but he remains kneeling in front of you. Your breathing speeds up when he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee and makes a trail of kisses up your inner thigh until you’re practically hyperventilating from anticipation. Then he looks up at you through those beautiful lashes of his and whispers, “I love you,” before he buries his face in your pussy, flattening his tongue as he licks from your wet folds to your sensitive clit.

You moan his name as you thread your fingers through his hair, and your legs nearly give out when he starts circling his tongue over your clit in an intoxicating rhythm. You feel one of his hands slide up your stomach until he reaches your breast and expertly rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

Your head falls back against the tile with a desperate cry when he slowly inserts one finger into your aching cunt as he simultaneously sucks your clit into his hot mouth. He’s only pumped into you four times when you start to feel that jolting tightness deep in your belly. 

“Oh, god - Javi,” you breathe when he adds a second finger and moans, the vibration nearly making your knees buckle beneath you. He must sense your impending demise because he lowers his hand from your breast to your hip, holding you steady. He curls his thick fingers inside of you and sucks hard on your clit, sending you plummeting over the edge of an orgasm so intense your knees actually give out. But Javi reacts quickly and he’s standing up to catch you with one arm while his other hand remains between your thighs, his thumb vigorously massaging your clit to draw out your orgasm.

Your whole body feels like jell-o as you place your hands on his shoulders for balance, pressing your lips to his and dipping your tongue in his mouth to taste yourself. He brings a hand to your ass and squeezes, pulling a gasp from your lips, “Fuck - you taste even sweeter than I remember,” he breathes into your neck before sucking on your skin with a pressure that will surely leave a gorgeous bruise.

You reach between your bodies and find his cock stiff as a rod, dripping into your hand as you slowly start to pump his length, “I want you inside me, Javi,” you murmur into his shoulder before biting into his flesh, pulling a surprised hiss from him. He pulls back and captures your lips in a bruising kiss.

When you pull apart he takes a step out of the tub, presumably to lead you to the bed, but you tug him back, saying, “No, here. I want - I need–” the words get stuck in your throat as you try to think of a way to express what you’re feeling.

I need to replace a bad memory with a good one. It sounds simple in your head, but for some reason, the idea of actually voicing it out loud is utterly terrifying - because it makes it real. It gives life to all of this. Your fear and your pain - all of it becomes real the moment you acknowledge it to the rest of the world. But you’re not sure if you’re ready for that yet.

As if he can read your mind, Javier steps back into the tub and cradles your face in his hands, promising, “Anything you want, mi amor - I’m here.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, but you instantly deepen the connection, needing to be so overwhelmed by his touch and his love that you forget about everything else in existence. 

Breaking apart from him - and before you can change your mind - you reach behind him and turn the water on, your body instantly tensing when the cool liquid hits your skin. You close your eyes and try to focus on the warmth of Javi’s body flush against yours as he slides a hand down your ass to lift your thigh and hook your leg around his hip. You wrap your arms around his neck and bring his lips back to yours with a newfound purpose. 

This is real - Javi is real - I’m safe in his arms, you think as Javi reaches between you and teases the head of his cock along your entrance. And when he taps it against your clit, you moan loudly from the current of electricity it sends throughout your whole body, your cries echoing off the walls of the intimate space. He rests his forehead against yours as he looks into your eyes and thrusts his entire length into your throbbing cunt.

“JAVI,” you cry out from the intense pleasure of being completely filled by him. You dig your nails into his shoulder blades with a grip that’s sure to draw blood if you press any deeper. He slowly pulls out of you only to slam his hips back into yours, swearing, “I’ve got you, hermosa - never letting you go,” he breathes into the crook of your neck as he starts to move with more rhythm. 

You feel wetness on your cheeks - either from your own tears or from the water cascading down Javi’s back and splashing onto you, you don’t know. But it doesn’t really matter because all you feel - all you are - is Javi’s body connecting with yours over and over again as he brings you both closer to that state of absolute euphoria.  

He fucks into you with fervor, hitting a particularly exquisite spot deep in your core, and you whimper against his shoulder when you feel the pad of his thumb press down on your clit. “Fuck, Javi - s-so good,” you praise as you thread your fingers in his damp hair and bring his lips back to yours.

You’re teetering on the brim of another earth-shattering orgasm, every snap of his hips inching you closer and closer to the edge. Then all of a sudden he’s lifting your other thigh and wrapping your leg around his waist, pinning your body against the cold tile as he drives his cock home with more urgency.

You dig your heels into his ass to push him deeper as your walls begin to clench around him. He drags his teeth along your throat as he groans, “Love the way you grip my cock - ’s fucking incredible,” he breathes into your skin and when he bites down on the region where your neck meets your shoulder, you lose all sense of reality as your orgasm takes over.

Javi follows you right over that blissful peak as his hips stutter against yours, his warmth filling you in the most primal way. He pumps into you a few more times as he comes down from his high and you bring a hand to his cheek, captivated by the lines of his face as his expression softens when he meets your eyes. You run your thumb along his bottom lip, swollen from your own lips’ passionate embrace. The warm water streaming down his face continues down your hand and onto your breast, leaving goosebumps on your skin. 

Your legs slide down his body, your feet silently landing on the tile while he slowly pulls out of you. He winces from the overstimulation as you release a quiet moan. You rest your head on his shoulder, both of you still breathing hard and too exhausted to speak. You look down and watch as the water from the shower streams down his softened cock and washes away his release mixed with yours. 

You feel his fingers under your chin, gently lifting your head so that you’re forced to look him in the eyes. His brow is furrowed and his eyes are glassy as they search yours, “You OK?” he asks quietly, his words nearly drowned out by the water raining down on you. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, nodding your head as his thumb strokes your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in close. You weave your arms under his and bring your hands to his shoulders, leaning your forehead against his as you whisper, “Thank you.”

You barely notice when the water goes cold some time later - the comfort of Javi’s embrace providing all the warmth you could ever need. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One month later

“Are you nervous about Monday?” Connie asks you as you stand in front of your closet, trying to pick an outfit for your first day back to work.

“Not really - I’m on light duty, which basically means my ass is gonna be glued to my desk chair for the next three weeks,” you sigh as you rest your hands on hips and gnaw on your lower lip. 

Truthfully, you can’t wait to get back to work, even if it’s just to sift through some boring-ass paperwork until your eyes bleed. Over the past few weeks, you’ve done nothing besides eat, sleep, read and then reread the few novels you had brought over with you from the states, and of course spend time with Javi, which obviously was your favorite pastime.

After the time you spent together in the shower that day - an activity the two of you have since enjoyed on a frequent basis - you and Javi have become closer than you ever thought was possible. You’d stay in his apartment while he went to work and he’d call you at least three times a day just to check in.

“Yes, Javi, I already ate breakfast,“ you shake your head against the phone receiver as you put the last of the dishes you just used into the sink.

“What about your meds? The doctor said you need to take them–”

“For two weeks to avoid infection, I know,” you chuckle at his probing questions, but your heart swells at the concern in his voice - no man has ever cared for your wellbeing the way Javi does and you’re still getting used to the feeling. “I’m good, Javi, I promise,” he’s silent for a minute before he responds, “I know, I–,” you hear him release a nervous breath before continuing in a voice barely above a whisper, “I just want to make sure you’re OK.”

You swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat, wishing he were here so you could comfort him and prove to him just how OK you really are. “Thank you, Javi - truly. But I don’t want you to worry about me, OK? I’ll be right here when you get home.” He hums in approval, and the baritone of his voice reverberates over the line when he says, “I like the sound of that - coming home to you.”

Your breath hitches and your heart hammers against your ribcage as you take in his words - home? Sure, you were the one who just brought it up, but coming from his mouth it sounds so - tangible. Yes, you do feel at home whenever you’re with him, even if the two of you haven’t exactly discussed any plans for the future - especially given the whole Columbian drug war situation. 

But when this was all over - then what? You love him and you know he loves you, but your life back in the states - back home - is completely different from this way of life. Over there it’s less demanding and, sure, not having to worry about getting kidnapped by some narcos assholes (again) is obviously a plus - but - will the love you share for one another still burn just as bright as it does here?

“Hermosa?” you hear him ask and you have to shake your head to focus, “Yeah, sorry - I’m here.”

Javi sounds uncertain when he says, “Maybe I should head home a few hours early” - and there was that word again. God, pull it together - it’s just a word. “No, no, I’m fine - besides, I told Connie I’d help her with something later tonight so there’s no reason for you to come - home - early,” the words tumble out of your mouth in one breath and you hope he doesn’t call your bluff about helping Connie tonight.

You hear someone call his name in the background and breathe a sigh of relief for the distraction, “OK, I gotta go - I’ll just - see you later then, “ he sounds annoyed, but not at you - most likely at the person who interrupted your phone call because he quickly continues with a soft, “Te quiero,” and you instantly feel at ease.

You smile and respond in a voice just as quiet, “I love you, too,” before ending the call. 

“Ooh, I like that one,” Connie raves when you pull out a plum-colored button-up top to match your black pants. It’s one of your favorites actually, but then you realize how low-cut it is - low enough to show the jagged scar running down your clavicle - and suddenly the thought of wearing it out in public makes you slightly queasy. 

“I think I’ll just go with that gray one,” you mumble and Connie’s expression turns to one of confusion until she realizes what the problem with the other top is, responding with a simple, “Oh, okay,” and a small smile but you see a sympathetic glint in her eyes. 

It’s not that the scars themselves bother you - you’re actually starting to accept them as a part of you now, thanks to Javier’s constant reassurance as well the therapy sessions the DEA made you attend in order to be able to go back to work. No, you’re not ashamed of them, but you really don’t feel like facing the stares or, god forbid, any questions from your colleagues - at least not yet. So for now, you stick with the safer option.

There’s a knock on your apartment door and Connie stands up from where she was seated at the foot of your bed, saying, “That’s probably Steve with the food,” as she goes to open the door. Sandra, one of the secretaries at the embassy, had called you earlier that day to tell you she was going to send you some of her famous enchiladas - which were to die for - as a celebratory feast to welcome you back to work. You nearly cried from gratitude as you thanked her for her kind gesture - and also probably because you were super excited to devour those enchiladas - they were that good. 

You drape your top over the sofa that sits in the corner of your bedroom and follow Connie out to the living room. As soon as she opens the door to greet her husband - who’s holding a covered tray in his hands - you’re met with the scent of chile and spices that… 

Make your stomach turn violently. 

You quickly rush off to the bathroom, your hand covering your nose and mouth to block out the scent that caused such a repulsive response. You barely make it to the toilet before bile rises in your throat and your stomach heaves, sending you face first into the toilet bowl. Hardly anything comes out, seeing as you hadn’t really eaten all day because you were looking forward to having the enchiladas - the thought of which has you leaning over the toilet once more.

You feel a small hand on your lower back and another holding your hair out of your face as Connie reassures you in her motherly tone, “It’s OK, you’re OK - breathe,” and you start to relax as she rubs soothing circles on your back. You cough and spit into the toilet a couple of times before you slump back against the wall, letting Connie flush the toilet for you.

You’re about to get up and grab a glass of water - and a toothbrush with a whole tube of toothpaste - when Steve steps into the doorway of the bathroom, holding a glass of water out for you to take. He looks a bit sickly himself as you quietly thank him and gulp down the entire thing. Then Connie turns to him from where she’s seated on the edge of the bathtub next to you, and says, “Could you give us a minut–”

“Yup,” he answers immediately as he’s already walking away towards the living room. The guy has seen dead bodies - the aftermath of massacres, even - but he can’t handle the sight of a little vomit, you laugh internally, your stomach still too sensitive to handle even the slightest movement. You look up at Connie who’s been silently staring you down with a suspicious look in her eye. You furrow your brow at her and ask weakly, “What?”

She’s quiet for a few more seconds before asking, “How long have you been feeling like this?” her expression is unreadable as you think of the answer to her question. “Uh, a couple of weeks I guess - I’m pretty sure it’s a side effect of the antibiotics - the doctor had me taking,” you say slowly as you take deep breaths when another wave of nausea hits you.

“But that was weeks ago, hun. You shouldn’t still be experiencing those side effects. When was–” she clamps her lips shut as if she’s second-guessing whether she should ask the next question. You raise your eyebrows expectantly as you think, spit it out, already.  

“When was your last period?” her words come out rushed and it takes you a second to decipher what she’s said. You look up towards the ceiling while you think, “Like…the week before I was - before they–” you swallow hard as bile starts to rise in your throat again, but then it’s like your brain finally catches up to the conversation and you slowly start to comprehend what Connie’s implying.

Wait, no - oh, shit.

“No,” your head snaps up.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Yup.”

“It can’t - I can’t be–” you trail off, too distressed to even think about finishing that thought.

“Well,” she winces as her shoulders shrug upwards, “if that was your last period - which was like over six weeks ago - then, I’m just saying, it is a possibility.” Your jaw nearly hits the floor from shock, but your brain refuses to accept the very probable truth.

“But I take birth control - for years, I’ve taken it and it’s never failed,” your heart hammers in your chest and the ringing in your ears makes you feel light-headed. 

“What about when you were in the hospital? I’m pretty sure you didn’t take it while you were in a coma,” Connie suggests as she offers you a hand when you start to stand on your feet. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks and you instantly regret leaving the safety of the floor because the room starts to shift a little. 

Oh, god - how’s Javi gonna react if we’re - if I’m - I’m–

“We can go to the hospital right now and have them do a blood test to be sure,” Connie holds you steady as she gently squeezes your arms with unwavering support, “I’m here for you, OK?”

–pregnant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Aquí estoy - I’m (right) here

Te quiero - I love you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaah shit, what’d you guys think?? I super enjoyed writing this, especially that last part 😉 any feedback is always welcome!

p.s., there’s only one chapter left! 😱😭 but I’m thinking about writing an alternate ending in addition to the last chapter - I’ll keep you posted 😁

tag list: (let me know if you wanna be added/removed)

@captainclod​ @stevieharrrr​ @zeldasayer​ @cptnbvcks​ @spacegayofficial​ @themandjalorian​ @hiscyarika​ @mandoispunk​ @madadlorian​ @pedrolorians​ @forever-rogue​ @longitud-de-onda​ @certifiedskywalker​ @dindjarindiaries​ @no-droids-allowed​ @aerynwrites​ @buckyodinson​ @lannister-slings-and-arrows​ @gooddaykate​ @fanfiction-trashpile​ @arrowswithwifi​ @letaliabane​ @thinemineours​ @ham4arrow​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @thisainttheway​ @bluemoon-glen​ @katialvi​ @theforceofdarkandlight​ @24kgolden​ @livasaurasrex​ @c-ly-g​ @womp-ratt​ @fangirl-and-stuff​ @mrsparknuts​ @and-i-swear-we-are-infinte​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @kimljn​ @fatbottomedcurls​ @auty-ren​ @mabelleen​ @rzrcrst​ @pascalisthepunkest​ @blushingwueen​ 

[pandoraswrld]

HEARTBEAT

— in which yewon takes a risk

characters / hwang yewon, kim seungmin

words / 1.3k

warnings / they make out and it gets pretty heated

“Let’s take a picture!” Yewon bounced up from her bed, a wide grin on her face. Seungmin had been scrolling through his phone mindlessly before looking up at her with a confused smile.

“Why?” He pushed himself up from his resting position, “It’s not like we don’t see each other all the time.”

That was true, ever since the new year hit both of them had been given a little bit more freedom to hang out, the two having spent almost an entire week practically living together.

“That doesn’t matter, we barely have any pictures together!” Yewon pouts, knowing that it will help her get her way, “What am I supposed to show people when they ask me who my best friend is?”

“Google Stray Kids.” He teases her, chuckling loudly when she hits his arm.

“C’mon, we’re taking a picture together and it’s going to be cute!” Yewon drags Seungmin by the arm, leading him to the mirror that was propped up in the corner of her bedroom.

It’s his hands that catch her off guard. His hands that came over to wrap around Yewon’s tiny waist, resting ever so delicately on her hips. She’s not sure how she feels, a strange feeling settling in her stomach.

“Smile!” She doesn’t let herself show Seungmin how she feels, she’s always careful not to, yet she frowns once his hands disappear after she took the picture. She throws her smile back on when Seungmin peers over her shoulder, looking down at the image fondly.

“Send me that.” 

And just like that he’s gone, his body already plummeted back into Yewon’s bed.

It almost reminds her of when he first started visiting her at the dorms a couple months back, Seungmin was so shy and wary of everything he touched. He used to perch on the edge of her bed, afraid he’d ruin anything, and now he treats it like it like it’s his own bed. It makes her laugh knowing just how little time it took for him to get comfortable.

“You’re sitting in my spot.” She bounces on to the bed and shoves Seungmin’s side playfully.

He chuckled and moved over slightly to make room for the smaller girl. Yewon noticed that he always did as she said eventually, it made her feel all warm and soft inside knowing that he always listened to her, that he cared about her. She thinks that’s why she decided to make a shuffle closer to Seungmin and rest her head on his chest instead of staying in her spot.

It’s awfully intimate, she’s so close she can hear Seungmin’s heart beating. She’s not sure if the silence surrounding them is comfortable or not. Yewon simply wished she could read his mind and see what he was thinking.

Yewon’s breathing hitched when his hands moved again, this time curling over her torso, pulling her closer into his body. They were practically cuddling at this point and all Yewon could focus on was how calm Seungmin’s heartbeat was. The two were never afraid of getting close with each other but they were never this close. Something about this time felt different, or at least for her it did. She looks up at him, finding his eyes already staring down at her.

“What?” She barely mutters, the eye contact proving too intense for her.

She catches Seungmin’s eyes dropping to her lips and suddenly Yewon becomes incredibly aware of her postion. She’s sure Seungmin can hear how fast her heart beats against his, their chests flush against each other. And then he leans in, she notices he’s a little hesitant as his lips inch further to Yewon’s. She’s the one who connects them, placing her hand on his cheek tenderly.

Now they’re kissing and Yewon has no clue how they got to this point and what to do next.

The kiss doesn’t last much longer, Seungmin pulling away from the girl to take a look at her, she watches his eyes scan her. She doesn’t like it, she doesn’t like him looking. Instead, she pulls him back in, applying more pressure to the kiss.

His hands finally move up from her back towards her shoulder, turning her body round so he’s on top of her. They lock eyes again, both of them catching their breath, a heat arising between the two of them.

There’s two ways this situation could go. Yewon could push Seungmin off of her and the two could forget this ever happened, or they could continue and see where this leads them. It’s apparent that she has to make a decision soon as the two continue to stare at each other for what feels like years. This time Yewon decides to push all the lingering thoughts out of her brain, choosing to kiss him again and let her hands roam free.

As the kiss deepens she can feel his hands lowering down her body, she can’t take a moment to stop and think about what’s going to happen when his lips start moving towards her neck. The tiniest moan left her mouth, she hates that it feels so good. The more rational part of her tells her they need to stop but the other part, the needy part, wants the moment to never end.

This shouldn’t have happened, Seungmin was her best friend, only there to hang out and nothing more and now he’s on top of her, giving her hickies, but that’s not what scares Yewon the most. No, Yewon’s most afraid how much she likes the attention he’s giving her, she’s scared of how much she craves it.

His hand started to crawl underneath the hem of her t-shirt, his fingers dancing around her skin causing her to shiver at his touch.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin retracts from her body, “You’re all tense.”

Yewon chooses to nod. She’s come this far so why back out now? However, she still can’t look him in the eye, she doesn’t have to think about the consequences when she’s not looking at him.

“Talk to me.” His voice dropped a little, his sudden serious demeanour turning Yewon on more than she’d like to admit.

She opened her eyes slowly, feeling her ears turn red hot when she sees Seungmin’s face. He was all hot and bothered, his hair messy and disheveled with her sparkly lipgloss staining the edges of his mouth, she couldn’t imagine what she must possibly look like.

No matter how long it takes for her to answer, she will eventually have to face everything, she knows this, she can’t hide from things forever. She thinks back to those initial texts between the two of them and how easily she could detect Seungmin’s flirting, Yewon is almost sure she knows of his feelings for her. In fact there is one thing Yewon is sure of and it’s that she will hurt him in the future. It’s the last thing she wants to do but maybe if she just doesn’t think about it, if she just lets this happen, it might change things, she might feel different.

She decides to take the plunge. Yewon rolls over, now on top of Seungmin, both thighs planted around his torso. She was in control.

“Yes, I’m okay just keep doing whatever you were doing and don’t stop.” She was talking so fast, she wasn’t entirely sure that Seungmin could hear her but she had to get it all out at once. There was a beat of silence before a smile graced Seungmin’s features, his eyes darkening.

This is it, whatever this was would make or break Yewon. She’s spent so many years running from all her emotions that maybe this will be good to her, she’ll finally work through it all and figure it out and she doesn’t mind Seungmin being there with her. Yewon only hopes that she doesn’t screw whatever this is up.

[pandawritesmanythings]

Chapter Summary: Frigga helps you rethink some things, she truly is a blessing.

Word Count: 1,907k

Warnings: Mentions of arranged marriages.

A/N: I’m really excited about where all this is going! Some interesting revelations going on and I can’t wait to see where this story ends up! I have the general structure, but I’m still discovering a lot about this world, if you have any thoughts I’d love to hear them! Take care lovelies!

Masterlist

-

The rest of the day went by painfully slowly. Loki didn't even look in your direction, and the ladies of the court really did have the veracity of wolves that Loki spoke of.

"He looked upset! Have you seen him? He's been frowning all day!"

Oh, boohoo. Poor baby. You rolled your eyes internally.

"He had a lot in his mind." You tried to excuse with a faux worried expression.

That was your job, all day. Try to keep up appearances. Despite everything, you had agreed to play the perfect royal couple, and you would go through with it!

After the dancing, and towards the end of the night, you saw queen Frigga looking at you, intently. You saw where Loki got his conniving looks from.

She called you with a wiggle of her finger and you called Steve so he could follow you from a safe distance.

"I would like to speak to you in private, my dear."

"Of course." You smiled.

"Shall we go to the palace library?"

That piqued your interest. "That sounds lovely."

She linked her arm with yours and together, with Steve trailing behind you, you made your way towards the gigantic library that the royal family had.

Frigga pushed the wooden doors and rows after rows of books became visible to you.

"You may wait out here captain. I'll take care of her." Frigga instructed Steve when he tried to walk inside.

"With all due respect, your majesty. But my duty is to-" He began but you quickly interrupted him.

"It's alright captain." You smiled softly at him, trying to reassure him from a distance. "I'll call you if I need anything."

He wasn't convinced, you could tell, but he gave a quick bow and posted himself outside of the room.

The queen then turned to you and with a placid smile pointed towards the seats by the window to signal where you would be sitting.

You wordlessly walked on over there and placed one of the soft cushions on your lap, softly hugging it.

"It has been quite an eventful day, wouldn't you say, dear?" She asked turning a book she had picked out of the bookcase on her hands.

"I suppose."

"Well, I believe that getting to know your soon-to-be lawfully wedded husband must be quite eventful, is it not?" She pointed a look at you. "Especially when it comes to my son."

"He definitely hasn't made things dull. I believe we're still both wrapping our heads around the matter."

"That's understandable. After all, not marrying the woman he loves has taken quite a toll on him."

Hold on. Does she know?

She raised an eyebrow in your direction. "I believe you already know about this, do you not?"

"W-Well..." You tried to cover for him. Why? No idea. But you wanted to.

However, you could not find it in yourself to lie to the queen. "I... Must admit that I do..."

She had an unreadable expression. Sort of like Loki's. It was sort of scary how they looked nothing alike and yet he and his mom shared the same pointed looks, deep in-thought expressions, and poker faces.

"And does it not bother you?"

Could you trust her? If she was trying to help Loki, or looking only for Asgard's benefit, could you really tell the queen?

"Well, it is none of my concern. It certainly is unfortunate, but it wasn't his or my decision to enter the alliance."

"However, it was certainly your idea."

"Of course, but, your majesty, your husband is the one who offered your son." You explained. "I would have married any noble that you put across me. But it was Odin who decided it was to be Loki. I never chose him. He never chose me. So neither he nor I am to blame."

"I take it he understood this explanation?"

You smiled, when you thought back on it, he had been kind enough to understand that both of you had been powerless under this situation. "Yes. He was very understanding, actually."

"Then I am wondering what did you do to upset him so much that he would go from teasing you to ignoring you in the span of a less than an hour." She thoughtfully looked out of the window to the shoreline and the night sky.

"Your majesty." You called her and she turned to look at you directly in the eyes. "Everything I've done is in my people's best interest. I hope you understand that."

"So you've distanced yourself from my son for the benefit of your people?"

"I'm only trying to decide if I can fully trust him yet."

She nodded. "I believe then that his reputation has been brought up to you."

"Unfortunately."

"Whoever told you, they are not wrong. My son has the tendency to trick others into aiding his own plans." She agreed. "But my son underestimates the frailty of his own heart."

"You're saying I've hurt him?"

"He doesn't give people the silent treatment unless they have." She smirked and you chuckled at that.

You looked outside to find the stars twinkling down at you. At Midgard, you had never seen so many. That was the advantage of living close to the beach, wasn't it? It was absolutely mesmerizing.

"What should I do, your majesty?"

"Oh please, call me Frigga."

You looked back at her in surprise but a small smirk formed in your face. "Only if you call me by my name." You conceded telling it to her.

"Fair enough. Now, about your question, that I cannot answer." She said, a twinge of regret in her tone.

"I know... I just hoped..."

"My dear girl..." With her soft hand, she lifted your chin to make you look at her. "You've already done all that you could. Now, let everything unfold how it's supposed to. And don't close yourself off. You have a very powerful ally in my son. And I should know. I raised him."

You laughed and nodded at her response. 

"Help him and let him help you. His trust is not easy to earn, and you might have just made it harder for yourself today. But don't wait, before those scrolls are here, you and Loki must have come to terms and give each other the trust you deserve before they arrive."

Her voice suddenly had a grave tone to it. "If you don't, Loki can be still a very powerful enemy."

You nodded slowly, understanding how you needed to proceed. "Thank you, Frigga... Please know that... I really appreciate that you took the time to advise me."

A knot formed in your throat. You bit your lip to avoid to become a mess in front of the queen herself.

"Oh, my dear! But what has come over you?"

"Nothing! I just-!" You tried to look away, the heaviness of the tears pressing in the corners of your eyes. "It's just, only my mum has been like this with me."

Frigga sat, her face showing understanding. She placed a hand over yours. "You miss her much, don't you?"

"I do." You nodded, a stray tear falling down your cheek. You quickly wiped it before more could come down. "Pepper has been... The absolute best with me."

"I never got to meet her, she wasn't at Yggdrasil. Is she much like you?"

"You could say that. She helped my dad raise me, even if she only married him about a decade ago."

Frigga's confusion was obvious. "Forgive for asking, but... I must have been mistaken by believing that Pepper Potts was your biological mother?"

"Well, dad never hid it from me or Peter that we were both adopted." You shrugged. "But Pepper was always there, just like Tony, so they are in a way our mum and dad."

This left Frigga pensive. A shadow crossed her face. "You are very open for a person who still is looking for who to trust."

You nodded. "True. But that is because I know I can trust you."

"How could you?"

You smiled. "Your highness, when I look you in your eyes. When I see your kind words and actions, how could I not? I have not seen anyone else in court be the same for me here, besides my handmaiden. I trust you both."

"If so," She took both your hands in hers, "Please, my dear girl, promise me this: That you'll have patience with my son. He will be your greatest ally. But you must allow him to open up.

"I promise you that it won't be easy. He has secrets of his own that I know he will have a hard time sharing. But do not take his secrecy for betrayal. Will you promise me?"

You mulled over her words. In your heart, you had already decided to give Loki a fighting chance despite all the rumours, but your mind finally caught up to it. "Alright, I promise I'll try."

-

Steve was beginning to fidget where he stood. It was the most anxious feeling to have left you there with the Queen alone. Although, after all, you were with the Queen. You were her guest of honor. What danger could befall you?

Any. Literally, anything could happen. His own brain admonished him.

He didn't remember the last time he was this tense and fidgety. It was an unusual feeling. He had always been protective over you, but never to this degree.

Maybe it was because you were somewhere strange with strangers surrounding you. Yeah, that was totally it. 

There was no other reason.

None whatsoever.

...

Okay. Maybe yesterday had left him a little bit confused. 

Oh for God's sake, I'm not fooling anyone, am I? He mentally cursed himself. 

It had been such a strange feeling. The panic that settled in his bones when Vision told him that he and Wanda hadn't seen you for a while. The fact that the infamous dark prince had been last seen with you. And then suddenly you had disappeared and he was absolutely about to lose it.

King Stark had given him the chance to prove himself by caring for his daughter in this dangerous mission.

And it's not like he wanted the mission to fail. But since that night at the beach, he had suddenly seen how much of a woman you had become.

And when he saw you deal with the Asgardians, and answer questions, and strike deals... He just loathed the idea that all of the life that was inside you, your care, your kindness, it was all going to go to waste on a man who didn't know you. Someone who didn't see you as more than a political pawn.

It enraged him and made him wanted to sweep you off your feet and run away with you to keep you safe.

But he knew you wouldn't forgive him for that. Not when your family and your people were in danger. 

However, he had served his country ever since he and Bucky were young boys. He had done everything in his power to make Midgard a better place. He had fought valiantly against the Jotuns. Lost many friends and companions to the enemy. He wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted to forget about his duty to his country, to his king, and to you as his princess and be selfish.

But he couldn't... Because he loved you too much.

-

TAG LIST:

@chxrryycola - @midnightmystic   - @deathkat657

[thranduilsperkybutt]

Gif source:  Penelope  |  Hotch

Imagine working in the BAU and Hotch getting jealous when you flirt with Penelope Garcia, resulting in him finally confessing his feelings for you. (Male!Reader)

---------  Request for @dreaded-nightmare  ---------

It was late, with you hunched over the endless paperwork that you were starting to hate your former self for ignoring. The BAU was nearly empty, save for a few stray agents this late in the night in the strange limbo between the last case and a new one. Even Garcia had left by now, having passed by your desk nearly an hour ago as you both playfully spewed harmless flirtations at each other that both of you knew would never go anywhere too serious. She was beautiful, to be sure, but you were also nearly certain that you weren’t her type.

You couldn’t blame her, Luke was almost anyone’s type. He even turned your head, when you first started working as a BAU agent, but you didn’t get the feeling he swung your way.

A call of your last name has you perking up, out of your thoughtfulness and reflections of the day that only came with increased fatigue and the dead of night, turning your head to find the head of the BAU, staring down at you with a frown.

“Oh, Hotch, didn’t know you were still around,” you smile up at the man, annoyingly reminding yourself that he probably didn’t swing your way, either.

“I was finishing up paperwork,” Hotch supplies, before glancing down to see the stack in front of you, “which you seem to be elbow-deep in, too.”

“Hey, it’s what I get for procrastinating, right? But Penelope just had to show me that new cafe around the corner when we first got back from the case, I couldn’t turn her down,” you laugh, shrugging your shoulders before you wince at the undeniable crick in your left shoulder, forcing you to stretch it out with a bend of your neck, left and right, cracking in the wake of your movements.

You miss how the movement attracts Hotch’s eyes.

“So, boss, you heading home?” you shoot up at him, leaning back into your chair with a sigh. “I’ve got another hour before I can call it a night, if you want my report done by tomorrow.”

“I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about,” Hotch’s frown somehow etches deeper into his brow, making your eyes widen slightly in curiosity at him. What had you done, this time?

“Oh, what’s up?”

“It’s, personal,” was that a blush creeping up Agent Hotchner’s neck? Subtly leaning in closer, you find yourself certain it is, as it reaches to dust his cheeks in a soft pink that you had quite literally never seen on him before, without the context of running after an unsub.

“Oh," you nod slowly, still waiting for him to elaborate. You note he waits until a stray agent escapes to the break room for a much-needed coffee break, seemingly drowning in her own paperwork.

“I know this is highly unprofessional, and I want you to know that what I am about to say is not going to change how I see you as an agent in the least, but I can’t continue to work beside you, pretending I am alright with how you flirt with Garcia,” he levels you in one long, run-on sentence that comes out in a seemingly dull, serious tone which was only accentuated by the unreadable storm of emotion in his eyes.

You gape up at him, a scoff leaving your lips. Maybe it’s the late night, or perhaps you have completely lost your mind, but you can’t help your joking tone or the words that involuntarily slip from your tongue.

“What? Rather I flirted with you, Hotch?” it was something you had expected would turn your friend’s tired frown into somewhat of a smile, at least. Maybe he’d just gently reprimand you and you’d dial it down a bit for the next couple weeks. It wasn’t like him, to comment on the joking flirtatiousness between you and Garcia, and for an instant you wonder if the higher-ups were about to have another one of their Harassment In The Workplace seminars which always seemed to be specifically targeted towards the blonde bombshell herself.

But he doesn’t smile, instead a flicker of shock rushing through his expressions and--- if you weren’t trained the way you were, you would have missed--- a shimmer of embarrassment.

No, way.

You study him seriously, for the first time since he stood in front of you. Sobered from the late hour more than any coffee could supply. You read him like an unsub you had across an interrogation table. He swallows. Your eyes follow the movement.

No, fucking, way.

“I don’t think you understand,” Hotch grumbles, eyes unable to meet your own and slowly allowing you to connect the dots of your suspicions. You mentally replay every moment spent with him, wracking your mind as to how you had completely missed this. When he does finally collect himself enough to make eye-contact, he wrecks you with how conflicted they seem, how nervous, and wanting they are. Your mouth goes dry. “I don’t see you as just a colleague, or friend. I,” he clears his throat, steadying himself for his confession, “I care for you.”

You sit there for an instant longer, stunned, outwardly silent while your brain screams at you to wake up and tell him how you feel, too.

“Okay, Aaron,” you swallow dryly in your throat, catching his eye as you manage a smile at him, “I won’t flirt anymore with Garcia, under one circumstance.” You hold up a finger, grinning mischievously at him. He warily studies you, suspicion in his stare.

“What’s that?”

“You go to dinner with me, tomorrow night, yeah?”

[trashmenofmarvel]

Devil’s Backbone - Chapter 16

Pairing: The Winter Soldier x S.H.I.E.L.D. agent!Reader

Summary: With your team dead and your mission failed, you’ve been taken by the assassin to an unknown location and are at the mercy of your cruel tormentors. (This fic is explicit, 18+ only, dubcon in earlier chapters)

Chapter Warnings: Emotional manipulation

Word Count: 3.5k

AO3

Bucky’s head snapped up from where it had been buried in your hair, his eyes dark.

“What is that?”

“Shit,” you hissed, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Let me up, quick.”

He moved off of you and you slipped past him to grab your discarded underwear and jeans, pulling them on just as you made it to the cupboard on the other side of the fridge. You sensed Bucky right behind you as you opened the cupboard and a small bank of four monitors slid forward.

You searched around the computer console, trying to figure out how to turn the damned thing off. You jabbed a few buttons until you found the one that shut off the ear-splitting klaxon. Sighing in relief, you focused on the monitors to found what had set off the proximity alarm.

Each screen was connected to a camera: one for the back door, the front door, the path to the alley, and the driveway. It was this last that had triggered the alarm system.

You watched as a grey sedan parked next to the house, suspicion tensing your shoulders. You were glad you had parked the van around back where it couldn’t be seen from the street or by the unknown intruder.

The car door opened… and relief flooded your chest. Rumlow rose to his feet and turned his head, surveying the property with a quick glance. Apparently satisfied, he shut the car door and strode up the stone path to the front door.

You turned to Bucky, already smiling, but he was no longer at your side. In fact, you couldn’t see him anywhere. Your relief faded to a frown. Where had he gone?

You were just about to call out his name when he emerged from the bedroom, holding the handgun in his metal fist. He headed directly for the front door.

“Hey!” you shouted as you blocked his path, putting your hands up against his heaving chest. “Bucky, wait!”

“I have to kill him,” he growled between bared teeth.

You could only stare up at him. Gone was the sweet, gentle man that had been there a moment ago. In his place was the cold, deadly expression of the assassin, but there was heat rather than ice in his blue eyes.

He was furious.

“No!” you told him, voice rising in distress. “I get that you’re new to the whole killing S.H.I.E.L.D. agents is wrong thing, but—“

“There is no S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he interrupted, a dark storm behind his words. “Only HYDRA.”

At least he had come to a stop and was no longer making a murderous beeline for the front door, but the searing hatred in his eyes brought you no comfort.

“Okay, fine,” you relented, not wanting to dive into semantics, “but that’s my S.O. out there. You are not going to shoot him.”

His jaw tightened as his expression hardened to stone.

“He’s an agent of HYDRA.”

It was as if he’d just spoken an alien language. You heard the words but they bounced off your mind without making an impact.

“What?” You smiled reflexively. It had to be some kind of twisted joke. “No, he would never…”

Bucky did not return the gesture. Instead, his eyes grew harder.

Your words got caught in your throat and you shook your head as if to dislodge the impossible accusation.

“No, you’ve got it wrong. I don’t know what you heard, or what they told you, but… Rumlow would never work for HYDRA.”

“I didn’t get a name.” His gaze moved from your face to the front door, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “But he was there when—“

He took an uneven breath and looked back at you so severely you almost stepped back.

“He knows about me,” Bucky said in a low tone. His eyes searched yours, softening a degree. “He knows about you. You can’t let him in.”

You nearly jumped as a fist pounded on the door just a few feet from your back, and your heart gave a leap when you heard Rumlow yell, “Williams! You in there?”

“Bucky,” you hissed. “Give me the gun.”

He looked past you toward the source of your argument, then back down at you, expression stern.

“Don’t open that door. Let me end this. Now.”

“No.”

His glare gathered thunderheads, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you reached forward and wrapped your fingers around the barrel of the gun. You tried to pull it from his grasp; his grip didn’t yield.

His expression was immutable and you were sure he wasn’t going to listen. If he opened that door, if he killed another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, any chance of getting Rogers on your side was gone. The launch would proceed and HYDRA would win.

And yet, none of that loomed as large in your mind as the terror of losing Rumlow. If Bucky killed him…

It felt as if the walls were closing in on you and it was getting harder to breathe. Desperation clutched at your throat as you stared up into Bucky’s face.

“I know this is asking a lot, maybe too much, but… I need you to trust me. Please.”

The steel of his gaze wavered, and the hard lines of his brows softened into reluctant surrender.

Bucky released the gun into your hand, jaw clenched, eyes straying past your shoulder with an unhappy look.

Another round of banging erupted from the door, making you jump. You grabbed Bucky by his metal arm and pulled him to the supply closet in the hallway. It was a tight fit, but you managed to nudge him inside.

“Stay here,” you said tightly. “I’ll get him to go away so no one has to shoot anyone else.”

You were about to shut the door but Bucky grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.

“If he’s not HYDRA,” he said quietly, blue eyes ablaze, “then how did he know you were here?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Williams!” More pounding at the door. You were out of time.

“Stay here,” you hissed, prying your wrist from his grasp, “and don’t move.”

It wasn’t until you had shut the door on him that you reflected on similar words he had said not so long ago to you in that horrid cell.

You scanned the room, found the STRIKE hoodie, and quickly pulled it over your head. You grabbed the blanket and yanked it over the couch, covering the obvious stains, old blood and otherwise.

You gave yourself a fast once-over to make sure you were presentable. You looked clean, but there was one thing you couldn’t erase: the room smelled faintly but unmistakably of sex.

Well, shit, there was nothing you could do about that now.

Pressing your lips together, you walked quickly to the door, turned the knob, and opened it a few inches.

Rumlow met your eyes through the slim crack, his eyebrows raised, and then his face broke into obvious relief.

“Williams, thank Christ. I thought you were—“

You opened the door the rest of the way and leveled the gun at his face, standing just far enough out of his strike zone.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed while raising his hands to show he wasn’t armed. “Whoa, the fuck?”

You peered past him to the car as you asked, “Did you come alone?”

Rumlow gave an annoyed scoff. “What? Yes, Jesus, I’m alone.”

“Step inside and close the door.”

You moved back as he did what he was told, never wavering as you kept your gun aimed in the center of his torso. He looked different than the last time you’d seen him. Stubble covered his jaw, at least a couple days’ worth, and his face looked like it had been beaten to shit.

Rumlow never took his eyes off of you, either. His expression was a mixture of curiosity and exasperation, but you didn’t miss the way he flicked his eyes around the living room, kitchen, and hallway.

Step one in a hostile environment: assess the surrounding space for immediate threats.

“How did you know I was here?” Your words were as tight as your grip on the gun.

Rumlow gave you one of his signature half grins, as if the question struck him as funny. “Come on, kid. Don’t insult me. I knew what moves you would make if you were still alive.”

You didn’t return the smile. Bucky’s words had rattled you.

“Why would I come here?” you asked with a sour note. “Why wouldn’t I just go straight to HQ?”

Rumlow sighed, his shoulders loosening as he gave you a resigned look.

“Because I knew you would’ve figured out the truth by now.”

“Yeah?” You attempted to keep your tone steady as your heart pounded. “What truth would that be?”

You watched him closely, reading his body language. His expression was still relaxed, but his eyes were discerning.

Step two: identify the highest threat in the room and assess danger level.

Rumlow looked at you for a long moment.

“We have a mole.”

You blinked. That… hadn’t been the answer you were expecting.

“You know?” A kernel of hope beginning to unfold in your chest.

“Yeah,” he said as he tilted his head while looking you over. “And we found out who it was, too.”

“Well?” you prompted, impatient. You were not in the mood for one of Rumlow’s lessons.

He frowned. You suspected it was at your less-than respectful tone.

“None other than Captain Rogers.”

For the second time in so many minutes, your brain seemed unable to process words.

“I… what? Rogers?” You shook your head. “That’s… No. He wouldn’t.”

Rumlow slowly pointed his right forefinger towards his left eye, highlighting one of the injuries you had noticed earlier. It was blackened and seemed to be delivered by a hard strike. He pointed to the scrapes on his jaw to solidify his point, and it was a point well-made. Someone getting a punch in on Rumlow was possible, but there was only one person who could make it look like Rumlow had had his face dragged over concrete.

Or rather, there was one super soldier who could.

“Cap gave me these little parting gifts two days ago,” he commented with a wry sneer. “Leadership brought him in for questioning. We were gonna detain him at the Triskelion, keep him secure while we found our answers, but he refused to cooperate, attacked our team, and escaped. He was gone before we could get any answers.”

“Answers?” You felt a tension headache forming behind your eyes. You also felt like you were missing something. “About what? About the convoy attack? My capture? Why would Rogers know about any of that?”

Rumlow furrowed his brows as he stared at you long and hard. And then his face abruptly smoothed in sympathy.

“You don’t know. Christ, of course you don’t. It happened only a few hours after you were taken. Williams…” He took a deep breath. “Director Fury is dead.”

“W… what?”

There was a faint ringing in your ears, and your body suddenly felt light. Untethered.

“He was shot, right there, in Rogers’ apartment. He died an hour later during surgery.”

Rumlow slowly lowered his hands but you didn’t react. It was all you could do to keep your gun on him, your training and muscle memory taking over as you struggled to keep grounded.

“Cap said it was some kind of masked assassin with a metal arm.”

No.

You felt numb. Weightless.

No. No no no.

“I know. A guy with a metal arm, weird as shit, right?” he said, most likely interpreting your silence as skepticism. “Rogers tried to throw us off the scent, but now we know they must have been working together. Rogers lured in Fury and the assassin finished the job. Woulda worked, too. Never would have suspected a thing if Rogers hadn’t run—“

“Wait.”

Rumlow blinked at your interruption. He tilted his head curiously, his eyes roving over your face. You could feel the cold sweat breaking out along your hairline.

Focus. Prioritize. Don’t fucking fumble.

You took a deep breath, forced the tension from your shoulders, and met his eye. He was volleying so much information at you, too much, and you needed to get him to slow the fuck down.

“How do you know Rogers was involved in Fury’s death?” Your voice was a hell of a lot steadier than you thought it would be. Good. That was good.

“Because Rogers,” Rumlow said with a tick in his tightened jaw, “along with a couple of his buddies, kidnapped Agent Sitwell yesterday. The assassin showed up soon after and threw Sitwell out of the car. Right into oncoming traffic.”

Your stomach rolled violently.

“Jasper’s dead?” You cracked on the last word, unable to help it. You had liked Jasper. He’d been a little weird, more of a desk jockey than a field agent, but he’d always been nice to you.

Rumlow nodded gravely, his eyes never leaving your face. “Yeah. And that’s not all. Apparently, Rogers is working for HYDRA.”

You hard-swallowed, forcing down the burning in your throat as you met Rumlow’s eye. You put on a mask of confusion, not too difficult when the emotion looked so much like muted horror.

“HYDRA? Like, the Nazis?”

“Yeah, them,” Rumlow said with a shrug. “Apparently, they’re still kicking around. They’re the ones who attacked the Kartal convoy. Safe to say, they’re the ones who took you.”

“But HYDRA?” You shook your head, easily mimicking the disbelief you’d had only hours ago. “How do you know it was them? I thought we were dealing with some kind of overseas hit squad.”

“Kartal wasn’t working for the Russians,” Rumlow said, his tone almost short as his eyes narrowed. You recognized the signs of him losing patience; you seen it too many times during your training sessions to mistake it for anything else.

“That was just a cover story,” Rumlow continued. “He was working for HYDRA. Said he wanted to come clean. That’s why S.H.I.E.L.D. was called in.”

It corroborated Bucky’s story, but it didn’t make you feel any better. Rumlow had purposefully lied to you.

Despite everything else going on, everything going on, somehow that fact hurt worst of all. Your S.O. had kept you in the dark on purpose and it fucking stung. Not only had he not trusted you, he had put you and the entire team at risk.

“So you asked me to lead a mission without giving me all of the information.” Your lips trembled and your words were curdled by bitterness. “What if I could have done something different? Prepared better? What if…”

Your eyes burned but you blinked it away. You couldn’t cry. Not in front of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rumlow’s expression had shifted as you spoke. The impatience was gone and he looked as close to sympathetic as you’d ever seen him.

“You didn’t have clearance, Williams. It was a Level Eight mission. No one knew except me, the Director, and the Secretary.” He spread his hands, a plea to understand his position. “Even now our agents think they’re tracking down Rogers because he’s withholding information on Fury’s death. Almost no one knows HYDRA is a part of this. I don’t think you really understand the stakes here.”

The doubt in his tone made the sting worse. You had been abducted, tortured, dehumanized, and yet you didn’t understand the fucking stakes?

“Enlighten me,” you ground out between your teeth.

The shadow of a smirk passed over his face, gone so fast you might have imagined it.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t just have a mole. It’s compromised as shit. You think Rogers is the only one? That Kartal was an outlier? Fuck, we just found out the Lemurian Star hijacking was a goddamn decoy. Fury hired those pirates to jack our own ship so Romanoff could steal S.H.I.E.L.D. intel for him. Then he just dies a day later? Hell, I’m bettin’ Fury was HYDRA too. This goes all the way to the top, kid.”

You scoffed under your breath. It was ridiculous. It was outrageous. First Rogers, and now the Director? It didn’t make any sense. Why would HYDRA send their assassin after Fury if he was one of theirs?

The biggest question was: why hadn’t Bucky told you any of this? Why hadn’t he told you Rogers was on the run? Or that the Director was dead? That was the information you needed to know if you had a chance of stopping the launch.

And worst of all, he had to know that.

Who the fuck were you supposed to trust now?

Rumlow started speaking again, forcing you to focus.

“But thank Christ you’re alive. When we didn’t find a body, we realized they had taken you. Goddamn Rogers must have given HYDRA the escort route. Romanoff had access too. They’re both off the grid. I—”

He furrowed his brows, looked around the room, and said, “Didn’t there used to be a coffee table here?”

You blinked. He had moved further into the living room than you’d realized.

Get your shit together. You knew if you fucked this up you were as good as dead. The threat came from either Rumlow or Bucky, or fuck, maybe even both. You had to figure it out, fast.

Addressing Rumlow’s question, you shrugged. “Donno. This is how I found the place.”

Rumlow seemed to find that answer acceptable, or at least, he chose to drop it.

“Listen… this is a Level One priority, kid. All hands on deck. With half our team wiped out, I need you now more than ever.”

He took a step forward. You could see it the moment he shifted into his role as commander; the muscles of his arms bunched briefly as his shoulders squared, his jaw set at a firm angle.

“That’s an order, Williams. I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’re comin’ back to HQ with me—“

On any other day, you would have obeyed without a word. But today, you raised the gun and aimed it at his chest, cutting him off.

“I can’t do that.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he snapped. He then took a breath, eyeing the steady weapon in your hands. “Haven’t we done this song and dance already? What’s gotten into you? Put the goddamn gun down.”

“I don’t know who to trust. So the gun is staying right where it is.”

His lips curled into a prideful smile, the kind of smile you used to seek out with unabashed eagerness. You used to be desperate for it: his praise, his approval, and most of all, his respect. Those things had been hard-earned and desperate treasures you had clung to and hoarded.

It was all that had mattered to you, once.

Now, it felt small and rang hollow.

“How long have I been your commander?” he said with an almost arrogant tilt of his head. “Fifteen years now? If you can’t trust me, you can’t trust anybody.”

That was the core of the problem and he’d hit it on the head. God, you wanted to trust him so badly, but you couldn’t. Not yet. Perhaps he had trained you a little too well.

You were not the only party present that apparently lacked trust. During the entire conversation, his eyes had flickered uneasily around the room. He had noted the two food trays in the kitchen, the messy bed seen through the hallway, and the loose blanket on the sofa.

“Are you alone?”

Yes,” you flatly responded. “Of course I’m alone.”

He jerked his head towards the food trays on the counter.

“Yeah? What’s that, then?”

Even as he asked the question in a casual tone, he eyed your weapon. You could see the gears turning in his head. Can I get to her before she can shoot me?

The answer was, no. You were standing just far enough away that you could pull the trigger faster than he could lunge. You could see it in his eyes that he knew it too.

“They didn’t feed me much.” You half-shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “I was starving and made extra.”

You weren’t sure he bought it, especially since the food trays were barely touched, but you weren’t exactly giving him a choice to call you on your lie, either.

His eyes narrowed.

“How did you escape?”

Ah, the question you had been dreading. It was also one you had prepared for.

“That assassin you were talking about? He was the one who attacked us. He captured me, took me to some kind of abandoned prison about an hour north of here.”

You paused, and the heaviness in your voice didn’t have to be faked.

“But then he… he must have snapped, or something, I don’t know. All I know is, he left a shit ton of bodies behind him. I used the opportunity to escape.”

Rumlow’s lips curled in disbelief.

“Why would he do that? Why didn’t he kill you too?”

Funny how that had been the question you asked yourself so many times.

“I don’t know, sir,” you responded with less of an attitude this time. An idea was forming in your head, and its execution depended on you convincing Rumlow you were willing to be the obedient soldier again. “I just wanted to get the hell out of there.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. You know, I never lost faith you’d make it back to us.” The smile that spread across his lips was probably meant to be friendly, but something about it looked a little too predatory. “Come on, kid. You know you can’t stay here. The safe house could be compromised. Probably is. And HQ really needs to know what the hell happened to you. I need to know.”

He sounded so genuine. This was the man you knew, had known for years, before there was any HYDRA or assassins. This was your S.O., how could you continue to say no to him?

You just prayed Bucky wouldn’t take Rumlow’s persistence as a threat. So far he had stayed quiet, but there was no guarantee he would continue to be.

The choice was obvious. Rumlow wouldn’t leave without you. He was right. You couldn’t stay.

“Okay,” you relented with a small nod. “I need to go home for a new change of clothes first.”

Rumlow took a small step forward. You tensed and gripped the gun tighter, a gesture he didn’t miss as he eyed your hands.

“Actually, you can’t,” he said. There almost seemed to be humor in his gaze. “We gotta search your apartment, make sure Rogers and that metal-armed psychopath aren’t gunnin’ for ya. We can get you a fresh set of clothes at HQ. I’d hate to think what Rogers would do if he got ahold of you. You’re a loose end.”

I’ll bet. Bucky wasn’t the only one who had left a trail of bodies behind him. HYDRA probably wanted you just as badly at this point.

“Do you really think Rogers is working for HYDRA?” You were genuinely curious if he believed what he was saying, or if that was just what his superiors had fed him.

Rumlow gave a half-shrug. “He was fightin’ real HYDRA back in the day. Who knows if what he says is true? No one alive left alive who can confirm what really happened in those HYDRA camps.”

Something about the way he said it nagged at you, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. It didn’t matter, you were out of time and your decision was made.

Your gut instinct told you not to do it, but if you needed answers, you had to go with him. And to go with him, you needed to show Rumlow you were willing to trust him.

You flipped the gun around in your hand and held it out to him.

“Sorry I pulled a gun on you, sir.”

He stared at the weapon for a moment, alternating between it and your face. He cautiously took the gun, and once it was in his hands, he gave a smile that slid easily onto his face. He put a hand on your shoulder.

“If you hadn���t pulled a gun on me, I woulda known I had failed you.”

The warm gesture and the almost-kind words made you want to give in and tell him everything. About HYDRA, about Bucky, about the launch. It was too much for any one person to handle, and you desperately wanted to pass the burden onto someone who would just… take care of everything. It would be such a relief, both to share the load and to know once and for all that he was the man you thought he was.

But then he removed his hand and tucked the gun into his belt. You kept your secrets and doubts to yourself.

“After the debrief, I can go home, right?” you asked as he led you toward the door. Your hope was Bucky would hear and realize you were telling him you would return after all of this was over, and more importantly, for him to stay put.

“Yeah, sure. The sweep teams should be done soon.”

He opened the door ahead of you but blocked the way as he turned to look at you. All traces of humor wiped from his face.

“I know this is a lot to put on you after the shit you just survived, but I need you in the days to come. I’m gonna be honest, Williams. S.H.I.E.L.D. is such a clusterfuck right now that we might just have to burn it to the ground. Fresh start, ya know?”

Wipe him. And start over.

A chill shot up your spine, but somehow you managed to nod.

Rumlow put his hand on your shoulder and guided you out of the house. The touch would have felt like affection, once. Now, there was only hollow dread as he led you down the steps to his car.

Next Chapter

[themusicplayedherlife]

Night Out

this week @forevans​ and i shared the prompt: "Are you calling me an angel? Ha, how sweet of you, but you're off. I breathe fire and hoard treasures, remember?"

pairing: dick grayson x reader characters: dick grayson, goons, you word count: 1.5k warnings: brief fighting, dick being cocky,  brief mention of blood and injuries, mostly fluff summary: only dick would get himself in this mess.

forevan’s bucky story will be linked as soon as posted!

This was supposed to be an easy bust—in and out, but no, Dick just had to go and do something stupid and get caught. And like always, you have to save his fine ass.

“I told you to wait for me,” you hiss into the coms, watching from a vantage point in the warehouse used by Penguin’s men as a weapon’s cache. You have a clear view of him tied to a chair surrounded by at least nine thugs. They’re taunting him, trying to get a rise out of him, but if there’s one thing Dick is is resilient.

“And miss out on all this fun?” he says to you, or the thug—mostly you, if the smirk thrown your way is anything to go by.

Another punch is thrown his way—a jab to his cheek. He doesn’t wince, only continues to smirk—how does he do that? Is hiding your pain part of the Batman regiment training? “What was that pretty boy? You think this is fun?”

“He should’ve aimed lower,” you joke, pushing aside your worry and mild anger to focus on looking for a clear path to drop down and do your thing. “You think you could handle a couple of more hits for me?”

He spits out blood, right at the thug that hit him. “Of course. Only because it’s you asking, sweetheart.”

The grunt snarls and launches another jab, his buddies egging him on and asking to take turns, but Dick takes it all in stride.

Wincing, you take another quick look around—there are too many wooden crates, and a couple of diesel tanks stored in a corner of the room. If you use your powers, you might accidentally cause the warehouse to explode with you and Dick still inside and half of the dock. Guess it’s hand to hand combat—Black Canary would be so proud to know that you’re not just relying on your powers.

If you drop down behind him, there’s a chance the thugs won’t give you the opportunity to release him from his restraints—unless… Spotting the fire alarm on the other side of the building, closer towards the entrance, you get an idea. Setting it off will most likely send a few of them to check it out together—too afraid to travel alone and face whatever set off the alarm on their own. They’re all predictable. And cowards. How Dick allowed himself to be caught by them is beyond you.

Walking on the high beams, you set yourself right above Dick and his captors. You reach into your utility belt and you pull out one of the spare Wing-Dings you stole from Dick—you really need to talk to him about changing its name—and press a small, hidden button before throwing it as precisely as possible towards the red alarm. The shuriken like boomerang releases an electrical shock near the fire alarm, setting it off.

Just as suspected, four of them travel together towards the entrance, the rest of them turning their backs on Dick and yelling over the alarm—there’s your opening. With a smirk, you drop down, breaking your fall with the asshole that took aim at Dick the most, your knees behind his shoulders and pushing him down to the ground face first. At the same time, you quickly throw another Wing-Ding to the grunt closest to Dick, and he falls just as the boomerang returns to your hand. The three remaining thugs are too stupefied to react, giving you enough time to break him free.

“Thank fucking god they didn’t use handcuffs,” you tell him as he pushes himself away from the chair to block an incoming attack from the men with his Escrima Sticks.

“Why? Not kinky enough for you?” He yells over the alarm, swinging his batons fast and hard, occasionally turning on the tasers to take them out. “Incoming!” He warns as the wayward thugs run into the fight after realizing your deception with the alarm.

“Got it!” You drop to the floor and sweep your foot to kick the legs of a thug, successfully, dodging a charging attack from another and causing him to crash into a pile of wooden crates. “I prefer your handcuffs. They’re sturdier,” you tease with a wink, kicking a thug in his chest towards his direction and he responds by knocking him out with one of his batons.

“Want to try them out when we get home?” He asks, just as the two of you double team once more to take out the remaining thug. You clap your hands and send a wave of mild heat towards him, blinding and immobilizing him for a moment and giving Dick the chance to roundhouse kick him into stacked crates.

You send in the tip to Amy Rohrbach through your holographic computer implanted in your wristband whilst he ties them up nice and pretty for the police. It won’t be long before they arrive on scene. “After pulling a stunt like you did earlier, I don’t think you deserve play time tonight.” You lift your gaze to find him staring at you, a lopsided grin on his face that only ever means trouble for you. “What?”

“When you jumped down, I swore you looked something heavenly.”

Snorting, you roll your eyes behind your mask and head towards the exit. “Are you calling me an angel?”

“Always,” he practically purrs, right on your tail.

“Ha, how sweet of you, but you’re off. I breathe fire and hoard treasure, remember?”

“That was a one time thing!” he protests, following after you and stopping you with an arm around your waist, tugging you against him. “And to my defense, you were dressed as a dragon and I was, what, fifteen and totally in love with you? Teasing you was the only way to get through to you.” You roll your eyes. "And didn't you almost burn down the cave?"

“Hey! First of all,” you start, poking his chest with every syllable, “it was a onesie! A very comfortable onesie! Secondly, I did not appreciate your teasing, whether you were in love with me or not." He chuckles fondly. "And thirdly, you and the rest of the Team wanted to check if I could breathe fire!”

He tilts his head, looking down at you. “It was pretty cool.”

You scoff, splaying your fingers across his chest, right where his Nightwing insignia rests. “It was so not cool.” Your hand trails up to cup his bruised face. “If it weren’t for Kaldur, I really would’ve burnt down the souvenir room.”

“Was still pretty cool, and hot.” He presses a feather-light kiss to your forehead, and then your nose, chuckling when your nose twitches involuntarily. “Really hot. Literally and figuratively.”

“Only you would think that.” You run your thumb over his split lip and frown when he winces. Maybe you should’ve worked a little faster. “You okay? Want to stop by the cave to treat your wounds?" 

He kisses your thumb and he cups your jaw in his large hands, his playful expression sobering up. “I’m fine. Are you? You took down most of them.”

“They didn’t even touch me,” you say, proud of the fact. 

“That’s my pyromaniac,” he teases, brushing a lock of stray hair falling over your mask behind your ear. He leans down, and brushes his lips against yours teasingly.

“You’re hurt,” you whisper against his lips.

“So?”

“You’re going to start whining like a baby if you put too much pressure on your wound.”

“If I get to kiss you,” he breathes slowly, “I could care less.”

As much as you hate to kill the moment, the sounds of sirens going off in the distance reminds you of where you are and what you were doing. You reluctantly pull away before he can deepen the kiss, opting to hold his hand. “All right, bird brain, we need to get out of here before Rohrbach and the rest of the BCPD gets here. I really don’t want to explain how we found Penguin’s men or the warehouse.”

He laces his fingers with yours as the two of you leave the warehouse. The cold night air hits you for a second before your internal temperature balances itself to its regular heat—higher than an average human. He leads you towards his parked motorcycle gifted to him by his old mentor. “Can I still convince you to try on my handcuffs?”

“If you dress up as a dragon, breathe fire, and hoard treasure, then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Huh. That’s doable. I have to look up dragon onesies as soon as we get home and I’m going to need your help to breathe fire—but totally doable,” he says jovially, squeezing your hand. “As for the treasure? Well, it’s a good thing that the only treasure I hoard or care about is right here with me.”

You grimace, trying to fight off the smile threatening to split your face in half. “Oof, yeah, no. Handcuffs aren’t happening, tonight, or ever.” 

He brings up your laced hands and kisses the back of your hand gently, before hopping onto the bike. “Oh, come on. I thought it was pretty good. You’re my treasure, my tesoro, comoara mea, mon trésor, babe.”

You bite your lip and shake your head, slipping in behind him and wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. “Keep it up and you’ll be spending your nights on the couch for the rest of the week.”

[butterfliesinthenightsky]

Hello!

I was hoping to ask for ships for nct (ot23 or the units separately) as well as stray kids if you’re not too busy!

I’m ( little under) 5’7, and am on the slim/athletic side. I have curly medium-length hairas well as a bunch of ear piercings and a few tattoos. I’m also an infp and capricorn aquarius cusp if that contributes anything.

I’m halfway between the mom/responsible friend and the funny friend and usually prefer to stay in rather than go out. I still enjoy doing activities though like art, cooking, and watching movies, etc. I’m definitely not a minimalist as I love collecting things and hanging stuff on my walls. I also just have a lot of thoughts generally so I’m usually saying comments that come to mind about random things that pop into my brain lmaooo.

I tend to be pretty low energy and can be very physically affectionate with partners but am the opposite with friends and family. Lastly, I love the little things and am often awed by the worlds small details.

Downsides about me are that I have trouble talking about my feelings and my self confidence can be sometimes low when mental illness has me by the throat 😭. Also I can be really forgetful

I like: coffee, nature, shitty/obscure (facebook) memes, board games, rain, laughing, all kinds of music in all languages, true crime, audiobooks, sushi, complimenting people

I dislike: judgmental and inconsiderate people, matcha, country music, yelling/loud noises

hobbies: anything art, cooking/baking, dancing

my aesthetic: chaotic academia tbh (like dark academia but messier lmaoo) I like being fashionable but comfort is priority so I also don’t wear makeup super often

also sorry if this is long bc sometimes I write more than I mean to asdkfks

thank you so much and I hope you have a great day/night! <3

Hi, Nonnie! <3 I hope you like my picks for you! I went with OT23 instead of the individual sub-units because I know a couple of our boys haven't been given set units yet (as far as I know?) *cough* Shotaro and Sungchan*cough* and, unlike SM, I care about the little babies. I hope you enjoy my picks out of the 23 crackheads and then the other 8 crackheads.

You might want to buckle up for this one! So I looked into the signs that are most compatible with a Capricorn (Taurus, Virgo and Scorpio) and the signs most compatible with a Aquarius (fellow Aquarius, Sagittarius, Gemini and Libra. According to that, you are technically considered compatible astrologically with fifteen of these idiots. Taking into consideration their personalities and (attempting to) take into consideration their MBTI types (either confirmed or suspected), I have decided....

I ship you with Doyoung! (Hopefully I made a good choice!) 

{He’s so fucking beautiful and ethereal, OH MY GOD.) 

Okay, so, your boy Doyoung. His Aquarius matches well with the Aquarius half of your zodiac sign, and his (I don’t know if it has been confirmed.) MBTI type of ISFJ-T is compatible with your MBTI type of INFP, according to my research. He’s apparently 5′10″, so there isn’t too much of a height difference, I am not sure how you feel about heigh differences in relationships? Some people dislike them, others the men go crazy for it. I feel like he would love your ear piercings and the tattoos you have, sometimes he absentmindedly runs his fingers along your tattoos because it kind of soothes him. I have seen several videos claiming that Doyoung is one of the “moms” of NCT, sometimes I feel like that can be true. I think the two of you would bond over your “children”. He adores how you always want to take care of others around you, and he loves how you treat his members with so much love and care because not only are they important to you, they are important to Doyoung. I see you two as the type of couple that would go to small art and film festivals, taking in everything and sharing your thoughts and interpretations on the movies that you watch cuddled up together. He likes to collect you little trinkets during your tour stops, and even some of the other boys do the same for you because you mean a lot to them because you take such good care of them and their Doyoung. You had to have Doyoung put up shelves in your room because you have so many little trinkets and presents from him and the boys and you want to display them because you are very fond of them. Hands down your favorite present from Doyoung was a vintage art print from your favorite painter, you worried him when you wouldn’t stop crying for half an hour after opening it. CAFE DATES, fight me on this. You CANNOT tell me that Doyoung wouldn’t be the type of boyfriend that would love to take his significant other to tiny cafes on tiny side streets, I will DIE on this hill. The majority of the time, I feel like he would let you win in board games, just because one time you got super competitive and accidentally gave him a black eye when you were playing Monopoly. Scenic walks in the park and along the edge of lakes/ponds, running when it starts raining out of nowhere. Running back out into the rain and laughing and slow dancing with each other (I snapped and went that route.), soft kisses on your forehead and he wraps you up in his arms. (I think I’ve just made myself cry slightly, where can I find a Doyoung?) 

In Stray Kids, I ship you with Felix!

To me, you sound like you would be two peas in a pod with our little Sunshine Boy! Like Doyoung, I feel like he would obsessed with your tattoos and piercings as well, he would like to softly trace them with his fingers. He could honestly spend hours just staring into your eyes, he is that whipped for you. On days off, the two of you like to sneak around small flea markets that independent stores have stalls at, whilst trying to not bring attention to yourselves. By the end of one of your trips there, you ended up getting six picture frames, a bag of fresh fruit, some baking ingredients, some crystals and three vases (which always come in handy because both you and Felix love to buy flowers for the other randomly). Movie marathons with your love Felix are always the best, he always makes your living room the nosiest thing ever for your cuddle session when you’re binge watching Netflix. Occasionally, the boys do like to be idiots and crash your date night, but the both of you have so much love for them so you always end up letting them stay. Car rides are always fun with the boys, due to the fact that you tend to blurt out whatever is on your mind, they often dissolve into laughter when you blurt out theories about aliens or random facts about animals that are completely off the cuff. Down the road, the two of you buy a house together on a quiet street. You have a barbecue to celebrate the new house and you invite the boys and some of your other close idol friends. Felix’s heart beats faster and he swears he falls more madly in love with you when he sees you and Yeji laying on your stomachs close together,  watching bumblebees eat from the flowers that are growing near the edge of the backyard. At the end of the night, you put up a projector screen in the backyard and bring a bunch of blankets and pillows and air mattresses out, all of you cuddle up together whilst watching true crime shows and rom-coms. Buys you a fancy coffee machine for the house, without a doubt. Sends you not-well-known memes at 3 in the morning when he is at the studio and he can’t focus. Laughs when Jisung does something funny or gets scared or Minho when he scares the aforementioned like the Scorpio he is. He will bring you home lunch from your favorite sushi restaurant when he knows that you are struggling with your school work/ work-work, as a little pick me up, and will bake you his famous brownies. Likes to annoy you by playing country music or making loud noises, simply because you ignored him the other day when he wanted cuddles.