#me now: and so this simple 'good morning' exchange will take ten pages-

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

strangling my past self How Did You Write Reasonably Sized Fics So Easily

[harrywritingsbyme]

The Best Christmas

Based Off Of These Asks since there are so many...I had to make a whole tag for them. 

A/N: I hope everyone had a great day!! Here is my little gift to you guys...some fluffy Christmas smut!! The smut is there and filthy, but I couldn't not give y'all some of the fluffy feels...I just couldn't help myself, so I hope it doesn't suck lol. Also, I’m adding this to A Series of Firsts...Enjoy🙃❤️

Even though this Christmas was a bit bittersweet since neither you nor Harry could spend the holiday with your families, it still managed to make its way to the top of you and Harry’s “Best Christmases” lists. Why? Because it was the very first Christmas you and Harry spent together since the beginning of your relationship. Sure the milestone came about by means of a global pandemic and yes the both of you wished that you could be with your families. But you and Harry were very willing and able to put all of that aside and focus on the positive that is your first Christmas together. Now since you two were living together for the past year (or however long this pandemic has been raging on), and it was your first Christmas, you and Harry made sure to pull out all the stops when it came to decorations and holiday activities. Well it was more so you than Harry on the excitement, but you were more than willing to include him.

Harry had a little bit of an extended break from filming, so once production wrapped for the remaining part of the year, the holidays officially began for you two and it started at the tree farm where you and Harry picked out the best tree you could find for your home. It took a little bit of bickering, a couple pouts here and there, along with some kisses, but the two of you were able to find and agree on the perfect tree. Along with said tree, you also bought tons of decorations for the house. And by tons, you meant tons. There were enough decorations to not only decorate your house, but yours along with someone else’s. While Harry called it crazy and overboard, you called it being festive and in the holiday spirit. And that’s all you really cared about along with essentially making the house a Christmas wonderland because you knew that no matter how much he teased you for it, Harry loved and thought that it was cute, overboard and all.

In the few days leading up to the 25th, you and Harry spent your time binge watching just about every Christmas movie on the planet, dancing around the house to your favorite Christmas music, and baking until you both were in sugar induced comas. Along with taking part in the happy festivities of the season, you and Harry also spent time talking to your families and trying your best at making up for the lack of your physical presence. And while you two were incredibly happy to be having your first Christmas together, it still stung to be away from your families for the first time, especially under these circumstances. But despite this bump in the road, you and Harry remembered the one thing that always got you both through any situation that wasn’t what you’d hoped. You two remembered that you had each other. And that with each other, you were going to have the best Christmas. 

And when the day arrived, it really was the best. 

For starters, you and Harry had the best morning sex ever. Aside from enjoying the seasons festivities together, you and Harry were also enjoying the continued stream of sex. It was absolute bliss to wake up on Christmas morning, nestled deep into the warm covers and tangled up with your lover. Add a round of slow, passionate, soft, and absolutely lazy morning sex into the mix and you were in heaven. And that was the perfect description of you and Harry’s morning. The both of you lazily moved with and against each other as you moaned into each others mouths and brung each other to your releases. It was absolutely amazing and the perfect way to start your day together.

“Merry Christmas baby” You hum softly, bringing your mouth to his for another kiss.

“Merry Christmas bub” He hums back to you with a sleepy smile spread across his face, closing the gap between your mouths. It was only supposed to be one kiss. But given the fact that it was you and Harry, on top of the fact that it was a milestone in your relationship, that kiss quickly escalated to another round of lazy morning sex which unsurprisingly topped the first round. The both of you were already incredibly sensitive from the first time so when you two went at it again, you and Harry exploded around each other.

After regaining the feeling in your lower halves, you and Harry begrudgingly pull yourselves from the warm and toasty bed, throwing the clothes that were strewn about from the night before back on and heading downstairs to call your families and then exchange the gifts you’d gotten for each other. Since it was a bit late in the morning in Los Angeles and there was a sizable time difference between there and London, when the two of you made your calls, the evening had already rolled around back home. But that didn’t stop either of you from gluing yourselves to your computer screens. It was just so nice to talk to your friends and family back home and have that connection even though you were so many miles apart. After talking and catching up with everyone, you and Harry said your goodbyes along with promises of talking more the next day before hanging up completely, leaving you both alone to get your first Christmas together going. To start things off, the two of you moved on to your gift exchange, which was filled with many pleasant surprises. You’d been giving each other gifts for a good while now and none of them topped the ones you’d gotten for each other this year. All of them were absolutely amazing and incredibly thoughtful, and the both of you prided yourselves on giving thoughtful gifts. While Harry gave you all of the gifts he’d gotten for you, you gave all of yours but one. It was special and you were saving it for later on.

But until then, you and Harry decided to have a Christmas themed spa day. After making breakfast, the two of you did everything from taking a warm bubble bath that had a strong and welcomed scent of sweet candy cane, to giving each other facials. The two of you even gave each other Christmas themed nails and had a little competition on who gave the best ones. And in the midst of all of this, the two of you were happily drinking the wine you loved so much while watching your all time favorite Christmas movies (rewatching them because they were just that good), randomly stopping every once in a while for a spontaneous round of sex. It wouldn’t be a Harry and Y/n Christmas if there was no random sex. You just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It’d either start off with a kiss that sucked you and Harry down the rabbit hole of pleasure beyond compare or it’d be a simple proposition that neither of you could deny. Either way, the sex was absolutely amazing every single time. 

As the day lingered on, the pampering came to a nice end, (Harry won the nails competition and the both of you had the softest skin in the world), the Christmas movies had ended, and there was only a little less than half a bottle of wine left from the two bottles. The evening was finally coming around for you and Harry and it was getting closer and closer to the end when you would give him his final gift of the day. After taking a little nap to curb the headache that was forming for you both from all the wine, you and Harry made yourselves Christmas dinner for two and completely devoured it before going back upstairs to get ready for bed. The two of you were already on the same page for this process because once you hit the top of the steps you and Harry went right into getting another bubble bath ready. You chose a different scent from the last time, still in the Christmas realm, and you relit the candles that were burning a bit earlier. Once the bathroom is transformed into an aromatic oasis, you and Harry remove all of your clothing and sink down into the warm water and bubbles. 

“Today was a good day.” Harry sighs behind you, breaking the silence and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you tighter against him.

“It was.” You reply happily. “First Christmas together, success.” You continue on. 

“It was amazing.” He reminisces, bringing his head down to press a kiss to your temple. “Can’t wait to spend so many more with you baby.” He whispers happily. 

“Me neither.” You reply excitedly, pulling yourself out from his grip and slowly turning around to straddle his lap. “But nothing will beat our first.” You continue, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing your fingers to the hair on the back of his neck. 

“And this is just be beginning of all the first Christmases we’re gonna have lovie.” He says, causing your mind to immediately flicker to your future together and all of the firsts he was talking about.

“I can’t wait.” You whisper as you smile down at him, your voice filled with contentment and happiness from today and for the future. 

“I love you.” Harry says, wrapping is arms around your lower back. 

“I love you more.” You reply, bringing your mouth down to his for a sweet kiss. When your lips connect, sparks go off in your bodies. It was a very familiar feeling to you both but it was also a bit rare of a feeling too. Whenever you and Harry touched or kissed there was always a similar feeling to this one. But this feeling the two of you felt in this moment was ten times the normal feeling. Maybe it was the underlying conversation you two were having about your future together or something, you weren’t completely sure. What you do know is that you never wanted to depart from this feeling. You wanted to relish in it and never let it go. Luckily for you, being with Harry meant that you were going to be feeling this way many more times going forward. 

As the kiss continues on, you and Harry begin to softly move yourselves against each other, getting yourselves a little riled up. When you feel Harry’s cock beginning to harden beneath you, you pull your lips away from his a little. 

“I have another present for you.” You mumble against his lips. 

“What is it?” He questions, tightening his arms around you.

“If I told you right now it wouldn’t be a surprise. But if we get out of here I can give it to you.” You barter.

“Let’s get out of here then.” He agrees excitedly, loosening his arms from around you. The two of you then step out of the tub and right into the fluffy bathrobes your mom sent over for you and Harry. 

“Now you go in there and wait for me on the bed and I’ll be in shortly.” You explain.

“Don’t be too long.” He pouts down at you before pressing a wet kiss to your forehead and walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, leaving you alone to change. As soon as the door closes behind him, you go straight to the cabinet underneath the sink to reveal the box you’d hidden under there the day before. You quickly pull it out and you sit it on the counter before lifting the lid to reveal the lingerie you’d bought for the occasion. Since Harry loved seeing you in it and ripping it off of you, it was the perfect gift to give him. Especially the set you’d picked out. To stay in the Christmas spirit, you bought a sexy Santa lingerie set for him. Now there were many sets out there for you to choose from, but there was one that was just perfect and it was definitely something that Harry would love. There wasn’t much to it, only satin and a little white fur to really give it that Santa feel. It was ruby red and barely there with bows covering both of your nipples, and one covering your folds. There were small ties on the sides of your panties that could and would be snapped by Harry in an instant and there was a little fur lining at the top hem of the tiny panties and the top edges of the barely there cups of your bra. There was an underwire for a little support but the only fabric was the fur and the four sort of thick satin bands that formed the bow right at your nipples. It was absolutely perfect and you thought you looked amazing in it.You do a final once over in the mirror, adjusting the lingerie on your body and pulling the Santa hat onto your head. Once you’re completely done, you take a deep breath and you open the door to enter the bedroom. 

When you walk in, you see Harry sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for you, he didn’t even bother to change out of the robe. When he sees you step out of the bathroom, his jaw drops right to the floor. Harry was so glad the lamp on the bedside table was turned on because he needed to see all of you right now. You looked absolutely phenomenal in the lingerie. The material wrapped around your body perfectly and it accentuated your features. And per usual, there was so much to take in and Harry was in sensory overload with it all. He was literally drooling at the sight of you. The lingerie wasn't the present, the present was you.

“Santa, baby, I just want daddy to fuck me so bad.” You say in an innocent tone as you get even closer to Harry. “That’s all I want for Christmas. I just want daddy to fuck me nice and hard and dirty.” You continue as you climb into his lap. When you do this, Harry stops breathing for a second. He was so overwhelmed from how hard he was now and from how good you looked and from what you said that he forgot how to breathe. “Can I have that Santa?” You pout, moving yourself around in his lap to tease him a little. When you do this, Harry snaps out of his trance and quickly lifts you both up from the edge before throwing you back down onto the middle of the bed. 

“You just can’t get enough huh?” He asks, swiftly undoing the robe and shrugging it from his shoulders before crawling on top of you. “Always wanting daddy t’fuck you.” He chuckles, taking in your appearance below him. “You should be glad that Santa and daddy are the same person doll.” He teases before pulling at the ties to undo them, tossing the garment behind him. He then grips onto your forearms, quickly pulling you up and reaching a hand behind you to undo the bra, tossing it in the same direction as the panties once it’s off your body, leaving you in just the Santa hat that was on your head. Instead of taking your naked body in before digging into you, Harry just digs in. He pushes your legs farther apart before leaning down between them to lick a wide stripe up your already sticky folds, spitting down onto you on his way back up. Harry then wraps a hand around his girthy shaft and gives himself a few tugs before moving to hover over you, resting his forehead right against yours. “I love it when my presents are fuckable.” He whispers as he lines himself up with your entrance and begins to push into you.

“Yes daddy! Your cock f-“ You moan loudly as your eyes roll back, as you immediately reach up to claw at his bicep as he sheathes his large member with your walls. Even after so many rounds on and off throughout the day, you never failed to be stunned at how good it felt for him to be inside you.

“M’gonna fuck you so good baby.” He grunts as he pushes the last bit of his cock up into you. “Gonna fuck you real good.” He breathes out to you. And without wasting any time, Harry begins to piston his hips into you, pushing himself into you as deep as possible. The both of you were moaning messes, enjoying the pleasure that came from Harry’s thrusts. Harry felt right at home from the way your warm walls were gripping onto his cock. No matter how many times he fucked into you, Harry would always consider your walls to be magical. You were always tight, warm, and wet for him; absolutely perfect. As he continued to slam into your cunt, you were falling apart. It felt so good to have him pounding into you like this. It was quick and it was dirty. Harry was continuously and deliciously slamming his cock up into you while you cried out and withered below him from the pleasure. You were getting exactly what you’d asked for. 

The room was filled with your combined moans and cries as Harry continued on slamming into you. The only other sound in the room was the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of your drenched pussy. When his hips begin to slow down and he starts to push and hold his cock inside of you, that was the signal that he was nearing his release. As he did this, you too were rapidly approaching your release. You could feel his cock digging into your sweet spot and you could also feel the curly hairs around his cock pushing back and forth against your tingling clit. 

“Need t’cum daddy!” You cry as you try and connect your mouth with his, beginning to become overwhelmed with your need to let go around him. 

“Cum with me sweetheart.” He slurs, feeling the warmth from his release beginning to flood his entire body. “I got you another present too doll.” He grunts as he delivers a final thrust between your legs, shoving his cock all the way up into the deepest part of your pussy, catapulting you both right over the edge and into your blissful releases. “It may arrive a bit late though” He chuckles though his labored breaths as he continues to flood your walls with his cum. And as he lets go, you let go as well, squirting all over him, getting not only his lower stomach wet but the sheets below you two wet as well.

Once the two of you are completely done, Harry slowly pulls out of you, triggering the thick stream of his cum to begin pouring out of you and onto the wet sheets below. He quickly reaches over to turn the light out and collapses right onto the bed next to you, making to throw an arm around your waist. 

“Maybe next Christmas we can work on your present.” You hum, feeling yourself beginning to doze off.

“That sounds like a plan.” Harry readily and happily agrees before shifting closer to and following after you and drifting off to sleep.

Even though your first Christmas together wasn’t under the best of circumstances, it was still one of the best. All you needed was each other. And once you had that, everything was bound to be perfect. 

Masterlist

[ateezmakemeweep]

line without a hook.

mingi x reader; lovers to strangers au

word count: 13k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death)

you could personally never understand one’s desire to run as far away from their hometown as they could.

maybe it’s because you’ve had the privilege of growing up in a beautiful, prosperous place, with cozy winters, amazing festivals and snowfalls on the frozen lake before spring came and melted it away.

maybe it’s because you have fond memories tied back to this picturesque place, shops and restaurants surrounding the lake in a way that almost seemed too magical to really exist.

you’ve met so many different people purely because of that sight, men and women of different cultures and backgrounds always so eager to take in your hometown’s natural beauty.

fortunately for you, the lake ran right through your yard and acted as a place of solace where you could get away from everything in the busy, touristy town.

a place you went when you were feeling happy, sad, angry or when, truthfully, you didn’t know how to feel.

it’s also where you first met your boyfriend, one of the many come and go visitors, who introduced himself as mingi.

except he had walked right through your backyard like he owned the place, a small smile on his handsome face as he took in the sight of the frozen water.

he looked at it with such wonder and fascination, like he’d never seen anything like it before in his life; and you can remember that night, even with how you’re feeling right now, that he looked at you the same way.

it’s the only thing that reminds you, at some point, you two must have really loved each other.

two years ago - december 13th

you were hunched over your desk finishing the last of your final essay, only a page left before you could throw every syllabus away and rejoice at having two months of winter break.

it was a chilly night but you couldn’t help but be outside on the porch, a big warm sweater and fuzzy socks on as you read over your work so far.

you’d gotten used to the sounds of nature, the chirping of birds, pitter patter of animal feet and even the loud, slightly terrifying barks of deer.

but the footsteps crunching on the leaves in your driveway definitely weren’t those of chipmunks or rabbits, your strained neck craning over to see a tall figure walking right past your porch and deep into your backyard.

strangely enough, whether it be the frigid temperatures getting to you or the stress of finishing this paper, you weren’t panicked; the man technically wasn’t even on your property, he was right outside of it along the grass that turned to decking.

so you continued to make revisions and edit your paper silently, your eyes fluttering up ever so often to check on the mysterious, tall figure. his shoulders were broad and his hair was messy, that much you could tell from your spot on the porch.

when five minutes past, then ten, then twenty, and he had still yet to move or realize he was in someone’s yard, you decided to investigate - because one, how long could he really stare at this frozen mass of water and two, your head was pounding from looking at this stupid document.

so without an ounce of fear or hesitation, you wrapped your sweater tighter around your body and made your way down to the man.

your slippers were loose so the last remaining bits of snow were seeping into your socks, a slight grimace on your face when the coldness touched your skin.

the sound of crunching snow caused him to turn around, his lips quirking up into a small smile when you came into view.

it was when you got closer that you saw just how attractive he was, pale skin that glowed, plump lips that were slightly chapped and messy hair that looked even better up close.

he looked different than most locals and tourists around here, many of them pastel wearing men who wouldn’t dare stick an earring in their skin.

but the man in front of you had a completely different vibe, earrings and chains and a gray t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest despite the freezing temperatures tonight.

a few minutes of silence pass, neither him nor you concerned about filling it; it seemed as if he could’ve stared at the lake just as long as you could’ve wondered why the hell he liked it so much.

“aren’t you cold?”

more silence passed and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear your blurted out question.

but then you discover he did when he looked at you with a smirk, the snow crackling underneath him as he shifts to take in your big sweater and pink slippers.

“no.”

it’s a short and simple response but his voice is somehow incredibly warm, looking at you with a twinge of soft light in his eyes before he opens his mouth again.

“why? are you?”

a confused smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head, looking over his bare (muscular) arms conspicuously.

“no. but i’m not wearing a t-shirt in december.”

he sends a smile your way, his large body turning allowing you to fully take in just how big he is. you feel incredibly small next to him and it should probably make you nervous - a large, stranger unwelcomed in your yard and staring down at you.

but there’s a weird sense of tranquility over both of you in this moment, the moon shining off the frozen lake as his gaze meets yours.

“well that’s a good thing,” he hums, your eyebrow quirking up before he continues. “because i don’t have a jacket to give you.”

a surprised chuckle leaves your mouth that has a smile spreading across your face and he feels his own doing the same at the sight of it.

“what makes you think i’d take a jacket from a stranger?”

his eyebrow raises after a few seconds of pondering the rhetorical question, his large hand suddenly coming between your bodies.

“my name’s mingi. i’m staying a few houses over at my aunt’s for the holidays.”

your lips purse together as you wrack your brain for which neighbor it could possibly be, remembering that the woman who brought you left over lasagna for thanksgiving mentioned her nephew was coming for christmas and new years.

she didn’t mention that her nephew looked like this or that he went onto the property of anyone he pleased.

“i’m y/n,” you say, taking your smaller hand in his cold one before a teasing smiles crosses your face. “and we’re actually standing in my backyard. so thank you for trespassing so politely, mingi.”

his eyes widen as an embarrassed look crosses his face, the small hint of pink on his cheeks just as endearing as it is humorous.

“i- i’m so sorry, oh, my god,” he chuckles out, your cold hands still intertwined. “my aunt said i could take the first road i saw to get to the lake. that there was a better view down here than from her house.”

and you can see in his eyes the exact moment his next sentence came into his mind, like he thought it was gonna be the smoothest and coolest thing he’d ever said.

“and it looks like she was right.”

the loud laugh that bubbles out of you is uncontrollable, mingi’s quickly following as his cheeks turn even more pink.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself,” he mumbles sheepishly, sounding completely unapologetic as he finally pulls his hand away from yours; you try not to think about how much colder your hand feels now, quickly sticking it in the pocket of your sweater to compensate.

“right,” you quip, a tiny giggle leaving you as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. “but really, you should probably get a jacket if you’re gonna be out here a lot. you don’t wanna get sick and it can get pretty cold here.”

“will do,” he hums, his eyes roaming yours and making your heart jump in your chest; he really is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen.

there’s a few beats of silence as he cranes his neck to look out at the lake, eyes roaming what seems like every piece of frozen ice and snowy tree surrounding it.

“my aunt actually told me people sometimes skate on it.”

“yeah,” you confirm with a nod, taking the time to look at the beauty you take for granted every day. “it’s thick enough this year. sometime we’re not allowed.”

“cool,” he says with a smile, a slight shiver running through him that makes you frown. “so... can i come back here to do that?” he asks, his eyes hopeful and soft as he looks at you. “or should i use the real path?”

your eyebrows pull together at his question, confusion covering your face but only meeting his cocky, playful one.

“are you asking if we can skate together?”

he bites down on his lip so he doesn’t smile larger, his tongue peeking out just before his teeth make contact.

“yeah,” he hums lowly, the deep tone of his voice sending butterflies through your stomach. “i guess i am.”

your lips quirk to the side as you weigh out the pros and cons.

you’re on your own a lot and definitely miss talking to someone.

he’s attractive and funny and seemingly nice enough.

you know his aunt and can easily confirm his story, the chances of him being a murderer who moseyed into town considerably low.

the only con you can think of is falling on your ass in front of him and even that it isn’t such a deal breaker.

so you smile at him and nod your head, a melodic “okay,” leaving your mouth that has him smiling back at you just as sweetly.

present day:

you knew going to this dinner with mingi was gonna end in disaster.

you were both too on edge after your fight this morning, past the point of screaming and yelling for hours that, now, you’ll exchange a few harsh words at each other before falling silent.

you’ve learned that the tense silence after a fight is worse than screaming and yelling.

at least with that, it seems as if there’s still some passion there. there’s words being exchanged and feelings coming to the surface that both people feel motivated enough to express.

but with the silence, you’re both bottling it up.

deeming it useless and letting it brew and brew and brew until one of you goes completely over the edge - and more often than not, that person is him.

the car ride over is no better, not even the radio playing to distract you both from the building tension in the air.

your friends know immediately that something is up, yunho eyeing mingi and san eyeing you; yunho, san, seonghwa, and wooyoung had been your friends since elementary school.

you’d been through a lot with them and have seen each other at all your highs and lows.

throughout your two-year relationship with mingi, him and yunho had grown especially close and it was sweet to see; you knew it was important for mingi to have another friend in a place he didn’t grow up in and you were genuinely happy they created a great friendship.

“hey guys!” wooyoung chirped happily, already chowing down on the chips and salsa in the middle of the table. “how is everyone?”

and like he’s almost oblivious to the tension in the room, mingi only mumbles a grumbled “fine,” before he starts happily babbling again. you try a little harder to put up on a happy front, giving wooyoung a small smile as you talk to him about your last semester of school.

as the dinner goes on, appetizers turning to meals and meals turning to alcohol, mingi downs sangria after sangria before he becomes a lot more chatty.

“oh, shit, there he is,” wooyoung smiles happily, a drunken flush to his face as he pokes his arm playfully. “you were scaring me for a hot second. looking all pissed off and shit.”

“that’s because i was pissed off. still am, if i’m being honest, woo,” mingi says, a conniving hint in his tone as he finishes the last of his drink.

your eyes immediately move to him and you’re quick to narrow them, hoping and praying he doesn’t start round two in this public restaurant right now; but apparently, that’s exactly what he plans on doing.

“what’s with the face, y/n?”

mingi spits your name out like it’s the last thing he wants to say, a quietly snapped “nothing,” leaving your mouth.

san and yunho look to each other immediately, concern on both their faces as they feel the tension start creeping back up.

they knew something was wrong the second you both came in, have known things have been off between you two for months, and it was even more obvious when you immediately took the seats a few spots away from each other.

“nothing?” he asks, his voice deep and gravely due to his anger and the alcohol. “because it sure looks like you wanna say something.”

“i don’t have anything to say to you.”

“you never do, do you, babe?” he asks, his humorless laugh and vindictive tone making your skin prickle.

“did you even miss me?”

your eyes meet his from across the table when he finally speaks, your eyebrow raising as you two stare at each other blankly.

he had left two nights ago after telling you he needed space, not hearing a word from him until he came barreling through the door just a few moments ago at seven a.m.

you’d just gotten up to make yourself coffee, plagued with worry and upset over your fight and his lack of communication.

“maybe if you looked at your phone, you’d know.”

because how could he think you wouldn’t miss him? how could he think you’re actually okay with him leaving after every fight? not hearing from him for a day or two while you stay in this apartment and let your mind go off into every worst case scenario.

a humorless laugh can only leave him as he shakes his head.

“of course you’re putting the blame back on me. i just can’t make you happy, can i, y/n?”

“you staying after a fight would make me happy. but of course, you can’t do that for me, can you?”

he doesn’t say anything and instead just clenches his jaw painfully tight.

you watch it tick dangerously and instead of feeling anger or sadness, you just feel utterly defeated; you don’t know how many times you guys have had this exact conversation.

a fight will happen.

he yells, you cry.

you just want him to see your tears and obvious pain and stop the yelling.

hold you and kiss your hair and mumble that you guys are gonna figure this out and get passed it.

he leaves, you stay silent.

he just wants you to fight for him a little.

call him out on his shit and prove to his insecure self that you still love and care for him, even though he’s a dick. ask him to please stay because he wants to figure this out and get passed it.

but then he comes back and you’re both okay for a bit, just for the cycle to repeat itself over and over.

“is that why you leave, mingi?” you speak again, looking at him curiously as you shake your head. 

“make me sit here and worry about you for days, while you purposely ignore me, just so i can tell you i miss you? is that what you want?”

the words are on the tip of his tongue. that yes, that’s exactly what he wants from you.

but the words are also on the tip of your tongue. that you want his first instinct to be to stay. to stay here and talk things out with you before immediately jumping up to flee.

he wants you to tell him you miss him but you want him to tell you he loves you, that he loves you enough to stay when you guys fight; but right now, neither of you are even sure if that’s true anymore.

“i don’t know about y/n, you guys,” mingi says suddenly at dinner, the drunken slur to his voice evident to everyone. “i love her but sometimes.... i think i actually fucking hate her.”

you feel your heart sink when those words leave his mouth, your face dropping just as the boys call out his name roughly.

“mingi, what the fuck,” san growls from across the table; but the boy is completely unbothered, shrugging his broad shoulders as he looks directly at you.

“how ‘bout you, babe? how do you feel about me?” he asks, leaned back against his chair like he’s completely calm, cool and collected.

“i’m not having this discussion with you right now.”

“you never want to have this discussion,” he mocks, the anger and rage in his eyes only making your blood boil even more. 

“i’m getting tired of it, y/n. i’m getting tired of all this shit.”

his voice is raising and you’re becoming increasingly embarrassed, knowing that the last place for this blowout fight is in front of your friends in a public setting.

“mingi, this really isn’t the place to-”

“shut up, yunho, we’re gonna finally-”

but you’re not intending on doing anything, already feeling humiliated and belittled as you get up from your seat and walk toward the door.

you leave your bag and jacket so the boys know you’re not leaving, hoping and praying that your drunk asshole of a boyfriend follows you outside; and sure enough, two minutes later, you smell his familiar cologne when the door opens.

neither of you say anything for the first few seconds, him leaned against the wall and you facing him with your hands on your hips.

“what’s your problem?”

it’s the first thing you think to ask, looking at him with such concern and defeat in your eyes. 

you hope he can see it but you’re sure he can’t, far too absorbed in whatever he’s been going through for the past few months to notice.

“i don’t have a problem.”

“you obviously do,” you snap, your voice raising as you take a step closer to him.

“you just embarrassed me in front of everyone and you’re acting like a fucking child. we could’ve had this conversation at the house instead of not speaking for days.”

“why? so you could just turn shit around on me or ignore what i’m saying?” he snaps back, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you. “maybe we need an outside source to listen.”

“not our friends, mingi, and not at a public dinner when you’re getting drunk.”

“you always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he snaps, his jaw clenching and eyes flaring as he continues to peer down at you.

“and it’s always on me. when we tried to talk this morning, you blew me off, too, y/n. it’s like you don’t ever wanna have this discussion.”

“because i don’t know what you want me to say, mingi. how many times do i have to repeat myself and tell you i don’t know what you want from me?”

“have you ever thought that maybe that’s the fucking problem, y/n? that after all of this, you still don’t know what i want from you? are you fucking stupid?”

“are you fucking stupid?” you yell back, the suppressed anger and rage you knew was brewing boiling over right here and now.

“you want me to tell you that i miss you when you leave every other week, mingi? why would i tell someone that who could give a shit? i could tell you i miss you or that i’ll miss you and you’ll still fucking leave me.”

“how do you know?” he snaps, “you’ve never tried!”

“i’ve never tried?” you yelp, tears of frustration burning your eyes as you look at him.

“what’s me texting you when you leave like a little bitch every single time? or me obviously worrying when you pull that stupid shit over and over? i’ve been trying mingi and you don’t care! you leave me crying alone every single time!”

he meets your gaze with fire in his eyes and you can only stare back with tears in yours, waiting for him to scream something before he decides to kick over the metal garbage can a few feet away from you.

you watch as it clatters against the side walk, a loud, deep “fuck!” leaving him as you watch him blankly. his chest is heaving and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself right now but you also don’t know anymore.

because you’re shaking inside and out and feel like you wanna throw up, knowing that right now you both look like the worst type of couple; but it’s nothing compared to how you feel, how even though you don’t want to, you can’t stop yourself from acting out on these negative feelings.

“and if i never try, mingi, then just leave again,” you say, tears blurring your vision and a lump growing in your throat. “you can stay and come home with me tonight. or you can leave. at this point, i’m too tired to care.”

you weren’t surprised to go home alone that night.

watch as seonghwa and yunho helped your boyfriend to their car and promised that he’d be back in a few days; you were only able to sleep soundly that night because you knew he was safe with them.

but it didn’t stop you from crying yourself to sleep that night, the night after that and the night after that for the next week; the same would’ve probably happened the next night, too, at least for a little bit, had you not heard your front door open just after midnight.

you were getting in one last episode of your drama when mingi returned home, craning your neck back to see him lazily kicking off his shoes at the front door.

his head looked up to meet your gaze, the glow of the tv hitting him just enough to tell you he looked like shit.

he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was tousled messily, like he hadn’t washed it since you last saw him. his face was sunken and pale as if he’d been away in the wild for months opposed to his friend’s house for just a little over a week.

but when he’s away from you, this is what happens each and every time - he can’t sleep or eat or function properly.

he’s only plagued with the thought of you, memories running through his mind or constantly wondering what you’re doing. if you’re safe and feeling okay or if something bad is gonna happen to you because he’s not there.

the couch dips next to you before you feel his skin graze yours, a quietly mumbled “hey,” like he just came in from work casually spoken through the air.

you crane your neck up at him to look in his sunken eyes, an uncontrollable frown on your face as you swipe your finger across his purple skin.

it’s the softest touch he’s received in a week and he’s missed it more than he cares to admit. shutting his eyes and smiling slightly when he hears you mumble “hi” back.

you bask in each other’s comfort and warmth for the rest of the episode in silence, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wound tightly around you until the tv screen falls black.

you two walk into bed and he pulls you down with him, your head falling to his chest and his hands in your hair. you moan against him sleepily and it’s a sound he’s missed so dearly, tightening his hold on you as he feels his body immediately relax.

you’re both completely comfortable and at ease, days of worrying finally calmed as you’re beside one another again.

but even with this comfort, even with the familiar feel of each other’s skin and warmth soothing both of you, you know it won’t be enough.

because you still don’t say you missed him and he still doesn’t tell you he loves you.

a year and 11 months ago - january 10th

you weren’t sure if it was possible to fall in love in less than a month but it really felt as if you and mingi did.

from the moment you saw him two days after your initial meeting, skating together and braving the frozen lake together, your connection was immediate.

you’d spent everyday with each other, frolicking through the town in the afternoon before going back to your house at night.

you usually spent it cuddled up on the couch or making food in your kitchen, his arms wrapping around your waist before tossing you up on the counter playfully.

“you didn’t strike me as a chef,” you tell him, watching him stir a pot of noodles with a content look on his face.

“well, i didn’t strike you as a rapper either,” he says, a smirk on his face as a giggle leaves your mouth.

you learned that mingi was an aspiring rapper, him and his friend hongjoong trying to get their foot in the door for the past year. you listened to a few of their songs and even got a live performance from him, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you watched him.

in a fit of absolute astonishment, because you didn’t think mingi could get any more attractive, you blurted out that he didn’t seem like a rapper. that his personality was too “cute and charming” despite the deep growl to his raps and voice.

“i told you just personality wise,” you whine with a pout, reaching your hand out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “but appearance wise, absolutely. you’re very tough. very cool looking. i’m scared of you.”

“you’re making this a lot worse for yourself, baby,” he hums lowly, another giggle leaving your mouth as you bite down on your lip.

“did your friend hear back from that producer yet?” you ask him curiously, your legs criss-crossed as you sit on the counter and peer up at him.

he looks over to see you staring at him all wide-eyed and interested, a soft, happy glint in your gaze that makes his heart pull in his chest.

he hasn’t even known you for a month but he’s never been this happy before.

he’s never had anyone be there for him the way you’ve been, dedicating their time to him and being so actively interested and supportive of his decisions; it also doesn’t help that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both inside and out, that made him extend his trip a week longer.

he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to you yet and he’s still not sure if he can; he’s grown incredibly attached to you and it’s something he’s never felt before.

something all consuming and magical that’s making him incredibly vulnerable.

“not yet,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming your face.

your eyebrows pull together when you notice the way he’s looking at you, soft and sweet with a fondness that makes your heart flutter dangerously.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

a smile crosses his face as he lowers the heat on the stove, caging your body in and cocking his head to the side. he bites down on his lip when he sees your eyes widen, a large hand coming up to push pieces of hair out of your face.

“because i’m happy i met you.”

a small, touched smile pulls at your lips as you peer up at him, raising your own hand to smooth out the chain around his neck.

your fingers brush against his warm skin and it’s like there’s electricity coursing through both of you, your bodies close and hot breath wafting together.

“i’m happy i met you too, mingi.”

his heart soars at the way you say his name, eyes falling to your lips as he presses himself closer to you. you push yourself against the cabinets, swallowing the lump in your throat when you follow his gaze.

your tongue peeks out to lick over them unconsciously, your own eyes falling to his lips. you feel your stomach swoop dangerously, wanting so badly to feel them on yours - they’re one of the first things you noticed about him.

“y/n?”

“hm?” you hum, your eyes lingering on his mouth before hazily meeting his eyes; and there you see it, the soft intensity you’ve yet to grow used to.

you’ve seen this look from him more times than you can remember despite the short time you’ve known each other.

on the lake when you two were skating, grasping each other’s hands and giggling as you tried to keep yourselves from falling back.

in town when your hands bumped and you’d stop dead in your tracks to look at each other, completely unaware of the people around you giving each other knowing looks.

on the couch when you’d allow your head to rest on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him because the weather is really cold for january and you need body heat.

but it’s never been as strong as it now.

your heart’s never been beating this fast and you haven’t been able to feel his own pounding against his chest. probably because he was nervous to ask-

“can i kiss you?”

neither of you can remember what happened after he uttered those words.

just that one minute, he said it and the next, your mouths were connected. parting on one another’s as he completely caged your body with his.

your arms wound around his neck and he hummed contently against your mouth, slipping his tongue in when you started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

he had half the mind to turn off the stove before carrying you to the couch, your legs wound tightly around his waist as every hint of desire and want overtook you.

he plopped himself down as you situated yourself on his lap, lips never disconnecting. you moaned against him when you felt his body underneath yours, tongues colliding and mouths pulled into smiles.

his hands gripped onto your hips gently, pulling your body closer to his as your kisses grew hungrier and more intense.

you finally pulled apart for air with heaving chests and red, puffy lips, your eyes meeting and every hint of vulnerability and longing in them.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he finally says softly, almost whispering it in fear that someone else would hear.

but this house is empty. it always is and it has been for quite some time.

until you met him and he completely changed your life.

now there were two pairs of shoes at the door and two empty cups in the sink. there was someone to talk to and someone to be in the silence with.

because you’ve learned over this past month that even a silence with someone else is way better than the silence of being alone.

“me... me too,” you admit shyly, a warm blush creeping up on your face. “i’m... really, really happy you’re here, mingi.”

his eyes widen when he sees tears well up in your eyes, his mouth pulled into a frown as he brings his hands to your face.

but you only shake your head before he can comment on it, placing your hand atop his before connecting your lips again.

he meets the kiss with the fervor you need, everything about it soft and sweet and passionate. like you guys know time is running out and you need to fit it all in.

“that producer got back to me and wants to meet in person so you’ll be home next week, yeah?” hongjoong asked mingi over the phone, the boy laid out on his bed a few days later.

he can only keep replaying the memory of you in his mind, the tone of your voice and the teary look in your eye when you told him how happy you were that he’s been here.

there was a certain type of sadness behind you that he hasn’t been able to shake, making it incredibly hard for him to pick a day to just pack up his car and go.

“i... uh. i don’t know, yet.”

“what?” hongjoong asked.

him and mingi had been waiting to meet producers for months, getting either put on a list or straight up rejected. and now when they have a chance, “you don’t know yet?”

mingi licks over his lips as he hears the disbelief in his friend’s voice, knowing that hongjoong won’t be able to believe this. they’ve been waiting for this moment ever since they were in high school and had the dream of rapping as a duo.

he was only supposed to be here for a few days and now it was almost a month. what could possibly be keeping him there? what could possibly have made mingi-

“what could you possibly not know, mingi? we’ve been waiting for this moment for years. you even extended your trip for a bullshit reason thinking i’d really buy it.”

“okay but my aunt really did need help around the house...” he mumbles because yes, she needed help around the house as she redid her bathroom but she was quick to hire professionals so, technically not a lie.

“so what, what’s your excuse this time? did you meet some chick?”

there’s a silence that stretches over the phone for what feels like hours, mingi attempting to find any words before hongjoong lets out a loud groan.

“a girl? mingi, are you fucking kidding me?”

“i really like her, hongjoong,” mingi tells his friend, a sweet genuineness and innocence in his deep tone. “i really, really like her and i... i don’t think i can leave her yet.”

he reluctantly opens up to hongjoong about you, telling him that you’re in school and live alone in this quiet little lake town. that you and him have been spending every second together and he’s never felt this way about anyone before.

“i’m happy for you, man, i really am,” hongjoong says, never having heard his friend talk like this before. “but i mean... is she worth changing your plans? what the hell is there for you?”

he wants to say that you. you’re there.

the girl he’s known for less than a month but has gotten him so tight around her finger - and once he leaves, will still be here.

except she’ll be within the walls of her house all alone again, in a town based off people coming and going where she’s never seemed to have a stable relationship with anyone.

where she now knows what it’s like to spend every day with someone and look forward to their company every morning and night. spend hours talking until the sun rises and sleep until it’s dark out.

“i wouldn’t be changing my plans that much. i still have our music, hongjoong. we can still do shit even if i live here.”

“live there?!? hongjoong blurts out, “you’ve been there for a less than a month, dude, that’s fucking crazy. you’ve barely know her and you’re gonna move there?”

“i can’t leave her.”

he didn’t think at the time that it was crazy. he didn’t think he’d ever come to regret that decision because, at the time, he really couldn’t imagine leaving you.

he couldn’t picture himself hugging you goodbye and telling you that you’d keep in touch via texting and facetime.

he couldn’t picture going back home with a genuine smile on his face when it felt as if he left behind something, someone, would could make him the happiest he’s ever felt.

he couldn’t picture that he’d ever come to resent you because when he told you he was gonna consider staying in town longer, a bit more permanently, the smile that lit up your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“really?” you smile, jumping up from your spot on the couch and running over to him.

you’re so smiley and happy and bouncy until you’re not, your face dropping ever so slightly when you look over his face.

“but wait... what about the producer? did he ever answer?”

“he did. hongjoong’s meeting with him tomorrow.”

your eyes widen at the news but he’s quick to cut you off, bend down and press a long, lingering kiss to your lips before scooping you up into his arms.

“but i told him there was something better for me here.”

present day:

he wasn’t sure when the resentment started.

he just knew that, one minute he loved you, and the next, he started to question everything.

it could’ve been from seeing hongjoong’s success, album after album and talk of him all over social media right in his face every day.

it could’ve been his lack of success, pursuing a music degree via online school while still keeping up with his previously established career as a rapper; it was enough to get the bills paid and keep his name lingering around but that’s all it was now.

it could’ve been that all of his passion was gone and he blamed you for that; because if it weren’t for you, he’d be with hongjoong now. he’d be making money and feeling inspired and at the peak of his creativity and motivation.

but he loves you, right? he loves you more than he’s loved anyone in the world and he made the right decision.

“sometimes i question if i made the right decision.”

it was a relativity quiet night for you and mingi, the past few days calm and uneventful, so you knew a fight was bound to happen soon.

and with that statement, it seemed as if the night was quickly headed in that direction.

“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your textbook.

he was sat on the love seat opposite you, computer in his lap and a beer on the side table as he watched you. he’d been wordlessly watching you all night and you hadn’t been sure what to make of it.

now, you can see, he might’ve been watching you with disdain.

“i mean i sometimes wonder if i made the right decision in staying here. just... so quickly not accepting that producer’s offer with hongjoong’s.”

his words hurt you more than you let on, your stomach sinking and knotting as you let his words sink in.

you had asked him for weeks after he made that decision if he was sure.

if something he worked so hard on and something he looked forward to for so long was something was worth giving up.

and anytime you asked, he’d say the same thing.

“you’re worth it.”

you wonder now if he said it so many times to qualm your ever present worries or to convince himself. tell himself over and over again that, yes this girl is worth staying here and no, i won’t come to resent her.

it’s something you worried about in the beginning but faded with time.

because your love grew stronger and you both became more secure. your relationship was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced.

but not now.

now it’s a fucking disaster.  

“where did that even come from?”

you can hear to your own ears how shaky and unsure your voice sounds. it’s filling you with as much shame as it does embarrassment, knowing that you can’t even talk to your own boyfriend openly and honestly.

without feeling upset, like you know you have to walk on eggshells or can’t express how much he’s been hurting you.

“i don’t know, i’ve just been thinking,” he hums, taking a swig of his beer as he adjusts himself on the couch.

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, only humming lowly as you nod your head.

you lick over your lips as you look back down uncomfortably, blankly staring at the words of your textbook. your brain can’t absorb any of the terms or phrases on the page, the sinking, awful feeling in your stomach taking over.

you can’t even remember how long you’ve felt like this.

when butterflies turned to this gut wrenching, awful feeling.

like the feeling before a plane takes off or you have a presentation to do or when the one person you’ve loved in this world has decided they don’t want you anymore.

“i stayed for you.”

the words you feared hearing pierce the air and you hold back a shaky breath, biting the inside of your cheek so harshly you’re hit with the metallic taste blood.

you look up and see his eyes narrowed in on you, tears burning the back of yours as you beg them not to fall.

because you can’t keep crying in front of him just for him to ignore you. to just watch you lose it with a blank look in his eyes, instead of holding you or attempting to soothe you.

“i couldn’t leave you alone in your house,” he begins, like the words he’s rationalizing in his head are coming out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“i wasn’t ready to leave you yet and i didn’t even think twice about how i would feel in the future. because i was so fucking consumed by you, y/n.”

there’s an obvious and palpable pain in his voice and it makes your gut wrench even more; you hate that he’s in pain but you’re in pain, too. you were in pain before him and now you’re in pain because of him.

“i’m still consumed by you but i feel...angry now. i feel so fucking angry, y/n, and i don’t know why. i don’t know if i’m mad at you or myself but i know i stayed for you. if i never met you, i never would’ve stayed here and now i feel like i’m stuck.”

“but i never asked you to stay, mingi,” you whimper out, the tears quickly coming to the surface.

they’re a mix of sadness and frustration, because it hurts so much hearing this, the obvious regret in his words, but it also makes you mad - that was his choice and his choice alone.

and it’s like he knows that too. because he doesn’t say anything in response, just continues to stare at you with a look in his eye that breaks your heart.

“i asked you so many times if you were okay with doing that,” you begin after moments of silence, your teary, wet gaze meeting his. “i asked you again and again because i knew you’d come to regret it.”

“i’m not saying i regret it, i’m just saying i-”

“you’re saying you stayed here for me like it’s my fault,” you say, shaking your head as tears leak from your eyes and down your cheek. “like i asked you to and like meeting me was your downfall. but i never told you to and i would’ve never ever expected you to.”

“what, so i was just supposed to leave you alone?” mingi growls lowly, emotion behind his tone that’s almost masked by the brashness.

he can’t help but feel all of this coming up, all of these feelings he’s been going through these past months and making him a completely different person.

“why would i have left you when i knew i loved you?”

neither of you focused on loved being past tense, probably because it’s a fact both of you know by now.

“i didn’t want anything else but you in that moment.”

“do you want a prize, mingi?” you snap, every defensive and defeated emotion coursing through your veins.

“you could’ve left me alone. you could’ve just left the way you wished you did so fucking badly. you would’ve saved yourself all of this obvious regret.”

“you think i regret staying with you?” he asks, his voice low and deep as he rises from the chair.

his frame is tall and broad and looming as he walks closer to you, standing over your chair as you sit there and stare up at him. his eyes roam your face and he follows the few tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands stiffly hanging at his sides.

he used to hate seeing you cry.

it used to make him wanna destroy whatever was hurting you. he used to kiss your tears away and wouldn’t let you leave his arms until you were smiling and laughing again.

“well, what do you call this?” you whimper quietly, sniffling and stuffy and feeling small tears stream down your face.

“you basically said if it weren’t for me, you’d be happier with your life. and i... i was so happy when you decided to stay, mingi, i’m not gonna lie to you. i was so happy because i knew we would love each other so much,” you whimper out, the knot in your throat making it difficult to speak.

“but i also knew that one day, you would probably regret it and resent me. it’s why i asked you over and over and over again. because i was so scared this was gonna happen.”

his mouth grows dry as he licks over his lips, a burning behind his eyes as he hears your voice break. he’s quick to shake his head and blink away the tears, though, because he knows if he starts crying, he’s never gonna stop.

“i thought you would leave with me eventually,” he’s finally able to get out, his throat clogged and voice gruff as he voices his innermost thoughts and wishes.

you compromised for him once, why wouldn’t you do it again?

“i thought if you actually loved me the way you claimed to, you’d be able to go.”

“well, i was always honest with you about that too,” you murmur, feeling utterly defeated and guilty as you meet mingi’s glossy eyes. “you know i never intend on leaving.”

a year and 5 months ago - june 19th

he learned about your parents accident on the 4th year anniversary of their death.

he had noticed that week you were especially gloomy, a sad look in your eye and the fake smile on your face making him cling to you just a bit more than usual.

and apparently, you had noticed too.

“mingi, are you okay?”

the words were muffled against his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as the two of you lay on the couch. his hand had been running up and down your back gently all night, like he’d been trying to calm you without any words.

like he knew there was something wrong, even though you hadn’t said a word.

his eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing his fingers under your chin. he lifts your face as his eyes search yours, that sad look behind them masked by a soft curiosity.

you’re trying to hide your pain because you think he’s hurting and that alone only makes him even more sad.

“of course i am, baby. but are you okay?”

you can’t find it in you to say yes so you only nod shyly, a small smile gracing your face as you look at him.

his eyes are full of such warmth and love that it makes tears prick behind your eyes, dropping your gaze quickly as you bury your face back in his chest.

the movement causes him to swallow nervously, adams apple bobbing as he presses his lips to the top of your head.

he knows something’s wrong. he knows something’s very wrong but he doesn’t know what happened or what’s brought this on.

“you can tell me anything,” he mumbles against your hair, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. “you know that, right?”

because he also noticed that you started seeming off when he mentioned moving in together, looking at apartments in town for himself before getting the idea to live with you.

you guys are already together all the time, it only made sense for you two to live together as well.

but he could tell immediately the idea unsettled you, you clutching desperately on to him as you muttered that you’d think about it.

at first, he would’ve assumed you didn’t wanna go that far with him. that it was too serious a commitment and you were completely uncomfortable with that.

but it was the way you were clinging to him, burying your face in his chest like you were begging him not to leave you that made him realize something deeper was going.

it’s why he dropped it at first. looked for apartments on his own with the idea that, best case scenario, you’d move in with him too.

could that be what’s wrong right now? you dealing with moving in with him and fears coming from that? or something else entirely?

he just knows that when he starts to hear you cry quietly into his chest, he needs to know what’s been wrong because he hates seeing you like this.

“hey, hey, hey,” his deep voice mumbles, large hands pulling you from his chest and wiping at your face. “what happened, baby? what’s wrong?”

and since you started crying about this, remembering the day and the circumstances around it so well, you won’t be able to stop. you can only continue to cry into him, tiny sobs wracking your body as you clutched onto him tightly.

“i... i can’t.”

you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t tell him, he wasn’t sure.

that’s why he shook his head and pulled you back into his chest, the warm safe place you’ve come to know so well and usually calmed you whenever you needed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong but i promise you’ll be okay,” you hear him mumble against your head, his hand running up and down your back gently. “i’ll try to help you in any way i can, baby, but i’m gonna need to know what’s wrong.”

but he can’t help you bring back your dead parents.

he can’t help you time travel the way you so desperately wish you could to tell yourself not to go on that senior trip.

that if you didn’t go, your parents never would’ve driven you to the airport and they never would’ve gotten in the car accident that took their life on the way back.

you’d spent a week in a foreign country while they spent a week in the hospital, your aunt and grandparents dealing with the repercussions before you came back and said your goodbyes in a dingy, hospital room.

mingi doesn’t know how long you both sat there in silence, your cries muffled against his chest and his arms wound tightly around you.

he loosened his hold immediately when he felt you try to pull away, watching as you stared at him, wiped your eyes and told him everything.

“my parents died four years ago, today.”

he watches with soft, sympathetic eyes and a breaking heart as you tell him about your guilt.

how if you just decided to stay home after weeks of begging them to go, they’d still be here.

“they didn’t have the money but i begged them for weeks, mingi,” you tell him, tears in your eyes and voice thick with emotion. 

“i wanted to go so badly because all my friends were going and i was too selfish to see they really couldn’t afford it.”

he can tell you’re not done talking so he only presses his lips together and grasps your hand tightly. squeezes it reassuringly as his thumb gently rubs back and forth against your skin.

“they both worked overtime for two weeks straight and gave me the money the last day it was due. and i barely thanked them,” you remember, the scene you’ve replayed in your mind hundreds of times flashing yet again.

you jumped up from the couch and snatched the money from their hands, throwing your arms around them in a quick hug before screaming your thanks and running up to your room to tell your friends.

“a drunk diver hit them on their way home from the airport and the doctors couldn’t believe they both didn’t die on impact. a-and no one in my family could even call me so i said my goodbyes when i got home, in the hospital.”

you look to mingi with tears streaming down your cheeks and you see wetness in his own eyes, his hand grasping onto yours tight.

“i couldn’t even talk to them one last time. or hear their voices. i don’t even know if they heard me.”

your voice breaks off after that, not being able to handle recounting this after years of staying silent about it; he’s the first person you’ve talked to about this besides the counselor you saw a few months after their death.

he pulls you in his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, rocking you back and forth as he presses his lips to your head.

your eyes are closed tight as you focus on his breathing and soft murmurs. his deep, full voice muttering sweet nothings and quiet reassurances.

that your parents did hear you and they loved you till the end.

that it was no one’s fault but the driver who decided to get in a car after getting drunk.

that you shouldn’t put any blame on yourself, because your parents would want you to be happy and thriving.

“i know but it’s just hard,” you tell him, you teary face pulling away from his wet chest.

you look around the living room full of books and wooden furniture, a family portrait hung above a cluttered-filled desk; it was taken when you were ten and you remember hating that day because you had to wear an uncomfortable dress and tights.

“i don’t know how i’m ever gonna leave this place,” you voice aloud to him, one of the many concerns that muddled your mind when you started deciding on college or jobs or moving in with your perfect boyfriend of almost a year.

“it’s the last thing i have of them. i don’t... i don’t know if i’d be ever to leave this place, mingi.”

not after what happened last time.

not wanting to leave the house you grew up in to strangers who would create more happy memories and replace the ones you made with your own parents.

his face contorts into one of sympathy and pain, his heart breaking as the obvious guilt and dread is in your eyes.

he’d always seen a bit of torment behind them but you were always able to smile.

laugh with him and tease him and push whatever demons he knew you had aside; but he started seeing it again when he mentioned moving in, fear and anxiety and discomfort that he hated to even see behind your eyes.

“i don’t know how that will effect us, it’s something i’ve thought about a lot recently,” you confess quietly, playing with the edge of the blanket nervously. “especially when you mentioned us moving in together. i... i want to, so bad, because i love you and i think it’d be fun. but... i can’t leave.”

your tears start up again and a frown crosses mingi’s face, his body hovering over yours as he takes your face in his big hands.

he wipes at the tears threatening to slide down your cheeks before placing his lips on your head, breathing slowly and calmly against you as his warm breath wafts over you.

“baby, i understand completely, i really do,” he says, everything making sense now but... “but i don’t think your parents would want you to... limit your life like this.”

because you obviously had an interest in seeing the world. you obviously wanted to see different places and cultures and sights in the world that even your precious little town doesn’t hold.

but he can see tonight isn’t the night you’re gonna see that, if the way you shake your head and bury yourself back in his chest doesn’t show that.

and because he loved you more than anything else in the world, he understood it. held you and kissed you and made sure you knew he’d be by your side in whatever way you needed.

it was with his patience and love and unconditional support that you were able to live with him. keep your parents house as a sense of security but slowly move yourself out of it.

leaving a toothbrush at the apartment, a few sets of clothes, some shampoos and soaps until one night, you were waking up and falling asleep with him every morning and night.

present day:

the fight that ended you and mingi was over a trip to disney.

something meant to be so childish and fun and innocent morphing into a blowout, gut-wrenching fight that left the two of distraught.

hit both of you with the realization that whatever you once had had fizzled out and turned so horribly toxic, you were both losing yourselves.

it had started with yunho, san and wooyoung planning the trip, mingi over their house one day after the tension in the apartment got too much. he had scoffed when san mentioned it at first, wondering what business they had as college going twenty-somethings booking a trip to disney.

“it’ll be sweet!” san said, “we could go to the parks for a few days, everyone loves roller coasters! and then we can drive down to the beach, go surfing and go to bars and shit. it’d be so much fun, guys.”

and the more all of them thought about it, the more excited they got. looking at flights and car rentals and getting all their swim suits in order - that was until mingi came back home a day later and informed you of these plans.

“me and the guys were talking about booking a trip to disney,” was the first thing he said to you. not a hello or how are you or sorry for leaving and making you worry for a week.

“oh?” you hummed quietly, looking up from your spot at the kitchen sink; you’d made breakfast for two just in case he came home early but it was another serving of eggs and bacon in the trash.

“yeah, so is that something you’d wanna do?”

there’s something off about his tone that you immediately pick up on. snippy and on edge and defensive, like he’s already fully prepared to break out into a fight.

because he already knows you won’t do it. you won’t leave the 70 mile radius you’ve trapped yourself nor will you even try to go out of your comfort zone for him and you or anyone else.

and quite frankly, he’s grown really fucking sick of it. call him selfish or call him someone looking out for you, someone who knows this type of living isn’t normal, he can’t deal with it anymore.

“i... well i mean...how would we get there? and when?”

“we were looking at flights three weeks from now,” he says, carefully observing your face with slightly cold eyes. carefully waiting for the next hint of a breakdown he’s not gonna properly respond to.

you bite the inside of your cheek as panic starts to stir in your chest.

you haven’t been anywhere since the accident. you’ve gotten yourself so used to this environment that going anywhere else seems terrifying.

but you’ve seen how bad things will happen when you try to venture out. you left to do the same and it cost your parents your life - who’s to say you wouldn’t get your karma soon?

leave mingi without a girlfriend he doesn’t even care about anymore or your grandparents without a granddaughter you can’t help but feel they blame for their child’s death.

tears are quick to prick your eyes as you try to push down all of these feelings, looking down at the floor in a move mingi already knows is dismissive.

you hear him scoff and it sends a flurry of emotions through you, not even needing to lift your head to know he’s shaking his head.

“figures,” he hums lowly, making extra noise as he puts down his bag or plops down on the dining room chair. “i don’t know why i bothered asking.”

“mingi...” you begin breathlessly, guilt and shame and sorrow filling you.

“no, y/n.”

his voice is firm and hard and makes you meet his gaze, the look he’s throwing you icy and completely empty. he’s done and you’re done and there’s basically a ticking time bomb between you two.

“you didn’t even let me give you an answer.”

“because i know what it’s gonna be!” he roars, feeling stupid for getting excited when he knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to leave. “i know you’re gonna make up some bullshit excuse about school or work or money and you’re gonna say no.”

you can’t say anything because you know he’s right. but what he doesn’t know is that you’re trying. you try every day and every week and every month to push yourself out of your comfort zone and it just doesn’t work.

you’ve tried going away with him and you’ve tried expanding your horizons - you’e even moved out of your parents house to live with him. but it’s hard when you’re constantly reminded by the fact that your decisions ended a life.

while it was technically the drunk driver’s fault, your survivors guilt heavily outweighs that. intrusive thought after intrusive thought until you start to question why you’re even still here, too.

“i’m trying, mingi,” you say, your voice shaky and defeated. “i’m trying but you don’t even see that.”

“how are you trying?” he asks, watching your dejected form a few feet away from him. “you haven’t done anything different since you moved in with me. we’ve been living the same life for the past two years, y/n.”

but you just remember how patient he was when you first tried moving in. how he was so patient and kind and gentle and was everything you needed him to be.

but he can just remember how much he loved you. how patient and understanding he was, not fully grasping the severity of what happened to you and how incapable he was of dealing with it.

“i’m... so fucking sick of it. i’ve grown to be so sick of you and i hate that, y/n. i hate feeling like this but it’s the truth.”

“and you don’t think i am?” you blurt out, the dam of tears breaking as you hear him say those specific words to you - i’ve grown to be so sick of you.

your frame is smaller and fragile and you’re like a shell of the person you were when you first met as you make your way up to him, looking over him with all the pain and exhaustion in your eyes.

“you don’t think i’m sick of feeling this way? of seeing how much you obviously hate me and are over this when i can’t stop feeling this way? because i’m sorry it’s been inconveniencing you, mingi, but it’s been ruining me, too. sometimes i can’t even believe i’m still here.”

the last part of your sentence stirs something in him but he can only focus on your broken state. watching as you grow weaker and weaker because of him.

“you haven’t even been helping me,” you suddenly say, words quiet and soft-spoke but filled with an obvious hurt. “i... i don’t know why you’d even wanna go on a trip with me because we’d just fight, mingi. we’d just fight and i’d cry and you’d leave me. th-that’s what we keep doing.”

tears burn the back of his eyes, a knot growing in his stomach so big it feels like he’s about to puke.

“because i don’t know what to do anymore, y/n,” he say, his voice less harsh but still holding a certain degree of bite. “i tried so hard with you and nothing seems to work. i loved you, i still love you, and i was there for you and i tried so hard with you but... i don’t know how to help you.”

“you think yelling is the way? or leaving me is the way?” you laugh out manically, tears rolling down your face that you desperately try to reach out and wipe. “you’re sick of me but i’m sick of you, too. i’m sick of feeling this way and i’m so fucking sick of thinking you still love me.”

“you don’t think i love you?” he asks, rising from his chair and making his way over to you. 

his looming height should make you nervous, the way he’s looking down at you and threatening to trap you against the counter should make you nervous, but it doesn’t.

because coming to terms with this right here is the worst part. the conversation you’ve been avoiding for months and the obvious change in what you two have become.

“i don’t,” you say, finally meeting his gaze and seeing hurt and anger swirl behind them. they used to hold such a sweet softness that would sometimes make you feel better, even if just for a little bit.

“because even if you do, you’re still sick of me, right?”

one year ago:

“what if you get sick of me?”

the newest compromise had been his family coming here to meet you.

you and mingi had booked refundable tickets for a week in his hometown, a part of you wanting to desperately prove you could do something for him. something that would make him happy and maybe prove you love him a little more than you can convey.

but the second you got on the highway to the airport, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to.

memories played through your mind of you in the backseat of your parents car, laughing and talking with them as you promised to be careful and take a lot of pictures with them.

hearing them tell you they loved you and were so happy you were able to go after all.

and then you’d looked to the other side and see in your mind a car hitting the other. spinning out and smacking into the divider as an eruption of fire, car parts and the chaotic screeching of breaks echoed through the air.

mingi had to pull over to calm you down, bring you back to the real world in the form of hugging you close to his body and his hand running through your hair.

“i’m- i’m sorry, mingi, i’m sorry, i-”

“sh, you don’t have to apologize, baby, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he hums against your head, pulling you over the console to rock you gently in his lap.

he was warm and broad and soft spoken and everything about him made you feel safe. you couldn’t grasp at the time how or why he was so understanding and sweet but you didn’t even wanna question it.

because he was the one thing in your life that made you feel okay. that you had him and he had you and there was nothing that could be that bad if you had each other still. 

he didn’t let go of your hand once as pulled onto the highway, got off the exit and made his way back home.

he guided you back into the apartment and told you to go lay down and that he’d be there in a second. 

he cancelled the flight and called his mom, telling her you guys got rained out and that, if it was okay, he’d pay for them to fly out here next week.

the bed dips a few moments later, broad strong arms wrapping around your waist before you’re pulled into his chest.

it was after a few silent minutes stretched between you two, the calming rise and fall of his chest against your back, your small voice pierced the air.

“i’m sorry, mingi.”

he could tell you were gonna cry before you even started, turning you in his arms as he pulled you closer to him.

“baby, i already told you you don’t have to-”

“but i do,” you cut him off, lower lip trembling and stomach knotting guiltily. 

“i... i don’t think this is normal, mingi. i should be able to move on with my life and travel somewhere. i wanted to go so badly and meet your mom but i-” your voice breaks as tears fill your eyes and you try to catch the breath threatening to suffocate you.

“i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever,” you say quietly, looking up and meeting his soft, sweet gaze. “i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever and you’re gonna become tired of it.”

“baby... that’s never gonna happen,” he assures you, voice gentle but firm as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“and you’re not gonna be like this forever. we can get you help. and i can help you,” he says, his eyes looking into yours with such a raw honesty and love. “i... don’t really know how but i’ll do whatever it takes.”

“what if it’s not enough?” you ask, because at the time it’s like you knew just how bad this was gonna get. that even with as low as you felt then, it wasn’t even rock bottom.

“what if you get sick of me?”

“i won’t,” he reassures, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your head before settling you onto his chest carefully. “that’ll never happen because i love you, y/n. and i always will.”

present day:

in a turn of events, you were the one who left after that. 

came right to the place you first met, except now the lake isn’t frozen over and the late-afternoon sun had just set.

his words were too harsh and reminded you too much of his broken promises.

you felt too weak and pathetic and completely hopeless, the tense silence so horribly loud between you two you left without a word; and he hadn’t said anything either.

and now, as you sit at the spot you’ve always come to and found solace in, you can feel why he was always so hurt when you didn’t ask him to stay. because even though you were fighting and even though you both hurt each other, you wanted him to ask you to stay.

to please not go because that would’ve been the last possible way for you both to see there was something still there - even though it’s plain to see there isn’t.

too many fights and too many words have been said. too many lapses of silence and too many unspoken thoughts that now when uttered are just hurting both of you.

you’re both too hurt and you both have too many things to sort through that you can’t do together. 

one second you were staring down at the lake, your own broken reflection staring back as your feet hung in the water, and the next you couldn’t see. tears flooded your vision and sobs wracked through your body, loud, ugly, horrific sobs that you’ve been holding back for far too long.

you cry because you know it’s over with him, you know it’s been over for a while, but now it all feels real. 

you cry because you know you need some help to get past all of the guilt you feel, how if you don’t get help, you’re never gonna leave this town and see what else is out there.

you cry because you don’t even know where to start and know, even though it hurts, you have to do it alone.

you’re so lost in your thoughts and the way your cries echo through the yard that you don’t hear footsteps approach you.

you don’t even know anyone’s behind you until someone bends down and pulls you into their broad, warm chest. a chest you know far too well and a body that hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever.

he knew you’d be here and he couldn’t stop his legs from jumping in the car and coming to see you after you left. half because he knew this had to happen and half because he was far too scared for you to be out here like this.

he knew what conversation was gonna follow but he knew had to hold you one last time. he missed holding you and he missed wiping your tears away.

“i don’t know what happened to us, mingi,” you whimper into his chest, the tears that have been building behind his eyes finally coming to the surface.

he doesn’t know what happened either. he doesn’t know when or where you guys went wrong or when you stopped talking to each other. he doesn’t know when he stopped loving you in such a way that was all consuming, where he knew he’d do anything and everything for you.

“i don’t... i don’t think this is working. i don’t know what to do but i know i can’t do this anymore.”

“i don’t know what happened either, baby,” he mumbles against your head, his words wobbly and wet as he tightens his hold on you. it feels as if every part of is heart is breaking, for the way he’s neglected you and the way your crying against him.

“i’m sorry i can’t help you. i wanted to so fucking badly but now... i just, i can’t, baby.”

you cry harder as you shake your head against him, feeling him plop down and pull you into his arms tighter.

it feels every bit as heartbreaking and upsetting as you both knew it’d be. it’s probably why you guys put it off for so long. because even though you feel the love you used to feel, you both know nothing will change.

he’ll resent you and you’ll resent him right back.

he’ll say he stayed for you and tried to help you and you’ll say you never asked him to do any of it.

you both sit there and cry and hold each other until the sky falls dark and air turns crisp, the moon reflecting off the lake in a way that hasn’t changed in two years.

but everything’s changed between you both and it’s too heartbreakingly obvious.

“i’ll miss you,” you mumbled to him.

because you know he’s gonna go on and do all the great things he’s wanted to. move out of this town and pursue whatever dreams he put off for you, the girl he once loved more than anything.

“i love you,” he confesses quietly against your head. “i really really did love you.”

because he knows he still does, he knows he always will, but it’s not something either of you can bear to hear right now.

you both have said what the other needed to hear and when you guys part tonight, maybe you’ll finally start feeling better. fix yourselves and the damage you’ve caused each other and maybe reunite when the universe deems it right.

two and a half years later:

it had always been your dream to see the northern lights.

something about them had always fascinated you, how they almost didn’t see real or were just a figment of fake editing that would only ever be seen in photos.

but you had an overwhelming need to see them before your very eyes. see the sight before you and marvel in just how truly fascinating and beautiful it was.

so that’s exactly what you did.

you wrote down a list of all the places you wanted to see: the egyptian pyramids, the great wall of china, the taj mahal, the eiffel tower, all of the sights that you knew in order to see, you’d have to leave the perfect little town you loved so much.

it took a lot of attempts, a lot of tears and anxiety and frantic calls to your therapist, but finally, you were able to do it.

it was the third to last place on your 6-month journey around the world, jet lag getting to you immensely but an extremely fulfilling pride and excitement within you.

you were able to do it. see the sights and meet hundreds of different people and experience all the things you convinced yourself you didn’t need or want. 

and you didn’t have a single regret until this very moment. 

because the rookie mistake you made within this amazing, journey of self-discovery around the world was not investing in a parka.

the biting temperatures of alaska were surely getting to you right now, your glove covered hands over your ears as you trekked through the snow with other groups of (properly dressed) tourists during the aurora season.

you found yourself in a snowy, freezing field, tall evergreen trees above your heads as you waited patiently for the sky to change perfectly, a buzzing excitement and low chatter from the people around you.

footsteps crunching on snow filled your ears from every direction, your eyes on the trees and large sky above you. a harsh gust of wind whipped past you and you let out a tiny squeal, your hands shooting up to your red, wind-burnt face.

you could hear a quiet, low chuckle beside you, something about the strangely familiar sound sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. you didn’t understand them at that moment, ignoring your bodies odd reaction and keeping your eyes focused on the sky. 

it took hearing his voice, the same one you’d fallen in love with in your own backyard, for your eyes widen and quickly look over the snowy vast of land surrounding you.

mingi stepped in front of you, eyes full of amusement and pride and even disbelief, looking over your face with the same type of a fascination he had when he first met you.  

“aren’t you cold?”

inspired by: line without a hook by ricky montgomery, ty tiktok

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @chrryhwa @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​ @hyunjeansuniverse​ @cherryeonii​

[haravath0t]

Peace of Mind and Heart

Pairing: Wakanda!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: an adorable Bucky, Bucky finally being a happy boi, fluff!

Word Count: 2.6K (oops)

A/N: @lookiamtrying MINA! My lovely Sammy! Thank you thank you for requesting this in! FINALLY THIS IS OUT! Gahhh I knew right off the bat that I would love writing this for you and good ol’ Bucket! Our Bucky deserves so much happiness, especially with reader! Ahhh! There are so many ways to go about all of this, but I hope you like this one! I got too carried away 😂Happy reading, everyone! 

Request: For a sweet drabble can I request Wakanda!Bucky preparing to propose to reader? He’s finally found some peace and it’s because of her and he gets all nervous thinking she might say no. Ooohh maybe he proposes to her at sunset like the second gif? Okaaay thank you.

*Italics indicate flashbacks!

A big, shaky sigh leaves Bucky’s lips as he sits within the comfort of his hut, twisting the velvet box around with his fingers. He could not help the nervousness that was flowing through his veins as his flesh thumb pried the box open, showing the wonderful engagement ring that he had picked out alongside Steve. Little to your knowledge, Bucky had been carrying this for a while now, finding the right ways to propose, but with no idea coming to his head. 

“Mr. Barnes, Y/N said that she will come over with dinner for you both in ten minutes.” One of the Dora Milaje notifies him, walking away from his hut when she sees him nod in acknowledgement, muttering a small thank you. 

He can’t help but recall the day he first laid his eyes on you. He remembered how you were struggling to speak to the locals in the market as he was buying his plums. He recalled the uncharacteristic action of him stepping in and helping you out, you getting extremely shy and embarrassed as you said thank you. He remembered how you said that you came here for work, that you were new, and trying to make your way around Romania before you started. He remembered the smile that had kissed his lips from the similarity of the situation of you both.

“I came here for a fresh start too,” He replied, causing you to look up at him in surprise. 

“Really? You don’t sound like it, though. Your Romanian sounds amazing!” You compliment, causing the brooding super soldier to have a light pink tint on his cheeks. “Oh. I think I just do pretty good at hiding in the crowd, that’s all.” He answers quietly with a shrug. That made way for a nice conversation between you both, one that didn’t require much work. You kept talking until you realized you had to return to your place. “How can I repay you, though? You practically helped me with my grocery shopping at that rate.” You ask, truly feeling ashamed at your lack of knowledge of Romanian, or Romania in general. 

“Maybe by being a friend?” 

“C-coffee, maybe? At the cafe down the block? At 9 tomorrow morning?” He offers, shyly, “I’ll pay!” You smile even more and nod in approval. “Yes… I… I didn’t catch your name.” He realized that too.

“C-coffee, maybe? At the cafe down the block? At 9 tomorrow morning?” He offers, shyly, “I’ll pay!” You smile even more and nod in approval. “Yes… I… I didn’t catch your name.” He realized that too.

“Ummm… Bucky… I’m Bucky…” 

You smile. 

“I’m Y/N.” 

“Y/N,” he repeats, with a smile once again forming on his face. It was a truly beautiful name that matched you. “Would you care if I walked you back? There’s some pickpockets around here in Bucharest, you have to be careful.” You agreed it was for the best, having had that experience before. Not that long later, you had finally arrived at your apartment. “That’s funny,” Bucky remarks quietly, making you look up at him in curiosity. “What?” 

“I guess I just met my neighbor” He chuckles quietly, motioning to his door that was across the hall. This only made you smile even more. 

“Well, gee… Glad that we are friends, neighbor.” 

He was scared that he was a burden to you. You had always come to check up on him if you heard him have nightmares. You invited him over to your place during those nights, stayed up with him, cooked you both a midnight snack, and let him take his time to talk to you about what was on his mind. The closer you two got, you even let him sleep in the spare bedroom in your place. Unbeknownst to you both, the friendly gesture only caused him to fall for you and the characteristics of you that made you. He adored you for your gentility, your kindness, your playful nature, your wit, and so much more. You didn’t waver when you found Captain America in the front of your neighbor’s door. 

“Y/N, listen to me,” he says swinging his backpack over his arm. “You’re in danger. You gotta leave.” “Bucky… your hand…. What…” He looked almost ashamed and worried over your reaction. “I’ll explain if I can, but not now.” Is what he responds before looking at Steve. “Wait for me at our cafe tomorrow, if you want. If I see that you’re there, I’ll know the answer.” Is the last thing he says for the day before chaos erupted. 

By the next day, you managed to pack whatever you could in your little apartment, waiting in the cafe. You were about to leave until you saw a tall blond, in a cap and jacket approaching you. “Y/N L/N?” He asks. It was Captain America again. “Yes?” 

“I’m afraid Buck can’t be present with you right now. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be here, since you’re associated with him. The Avengers can offer you a place to stay, a new place to work, if you’d like. You can talk to Buck before you make that decision if you want.”

You never agreed to anything so fast. You were worried more than angry and afraid. Even though you put two and two together and remembered that he was the Winter Soldier. Steve had told you along the way as he was helping you with your baggage, further confirming your theory. You couldn’t help but understand the immense pain and trauma that he was facing for so long. 

“You must be disgusted by me now.” You looked away from the quinjet’s window to look over at the wounded brunet next to you with wide eyes, shaking your head as you grabbed a moist towel to wipe off some of the blood that remained on his skin. “Scared? Yes… Doubtful? Yes… but to be repulsed by you? No.”

“If it made you scared, doubtful, all that… What made you wanna stay around? 

That’s true… What made you stay? 

“Maybe because I knew that it’s not the guy that I met at the market. I met Bucky Barnes that day.” You start off, upset because that was clearly not summing up the way your heart raced and leapt at his presence this whole time. It didn’t sum up the way you dreamt about that simple, gentle blue-eyed brunet man. You shakily inhaled and exhaled. 

“Maybe because I feel… I feel something more than a friend should feel.” 

He looks up at you, in shock and denial, shaking his head. “Y-You. You feel it too, huh?” You nod. He groaned and let out a tiny smile. “Why do I gotta fall in love with a gal like you. You can do better than me, YN.” 

“I don’t want better, Buck. I want you. I want those late nights. I wanna comfort you. I wanna watch movies with you. I wanna have breakfast with you. I want all that. I don’t want that to stay in Romania. Don’t you see that?” 

His dirtied flesh hand cups your cheek as if it’s like glass: careful and with care. His eyes were meeting yours, the end of his lips curling up in a little smile. “I’m telling you, Y/N. I… I think once you say yes to this, we’re basically asking you to leave that old life behind, ya know? I don’t wanna keep that from you-”

“That’s the point you’re not getting, Buck. I want this to work. I want to try. Especially since I now know we are on the same page.” 

Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle that left his once blood-stained lips. He admired that stubbornness of yours. He even saw Steve chuckle at this from the other side of the quinjet. Never did he ever think your cute stubbornness to things would be directed to staying with him. 

“But this is something new-”

“Yes it is. It’s new to us both. I’m willing, Buck. I’ll learn. Maybe I can be somehow a helper of a sort, I don’t know how this Avengers thing works, but I’d wanna learn with you!” 

And so you did. You didn’t waver even when they had made the decision to have him stay in Wakanda to recover. You kept to your word, staying alongside Natasha and Steve and training for self-defense. They found out that you worked in the medical field and you were happy that you were able to help when you could. That being said, you were so determined to help alongside Shuri with Bucky’s recovery. You always held a strong image that was quite the contrary to his current state. 

Yet, deep down, he knew you didn’t do this to baby him, or because you pitied him. He knew it in his heart that you two did share a love for each other that was soft, unspoken, and steadfast. You both shared a stubborn desire to make this work no matter the unforeseen circumstances.

“Buck? I’m here! I brought dinner!” He heard you exclaim, his worries vanishing almost immediately as he got up from his bed, tucking the velvet box in his pocket before getting the blanket next to his bed and meeting your wonderful smile. “Hi, sweetheart,” He says, almost with relief as he instinctively exchanges a small kiss with you. “Hey, darling. Got the blanket I see! Here, I’ll lay it all out!” 

There was a different air to this dinner. Something that made him feel like he was on Cloud 9. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was the fact that you brought cute accessories to match the aesthetic of the picnic blanket. Maybe it was because you cooked both of your favorite meals for tonight. Could it be because he was loving your excitement as you told him the new things that you had learned while you were apart? Could it be the fact that the sky had never been so beautiful as it set? Maybe it was because he was able to imagine this life with you. Maybe it’s because every time you two met up to catch up, he’d always imagine what it was like to be able to experience your radiant glow for decades to come. Maybe it’s because today he was much more appreciative of the growth of your relationship. It seemed right to pop out the question, but his thoughts stopped him. Maybe she’s waiting for the right moment to back out. Maybe he hasn’t done anything yet to make you go away. Maybe you’ll think that you were impulsive on your decision to be with him.

“Maybe she’ll say no… maybe it’s not the right time, Steve. What if she doesn’t want me at all?” He sighs, looking at the beautiful diamond ring that he had handpicked for you. “Oh, nonsense, Buck,” Steve replies as he looks at the goats in the pasture “I think if anything, she’d be over the moon about it. I have a feeling you’ll know when the time is right.” 

“You think so?” 

“Sure, I do. I see the way you two look at each other. Sounds like you both are always in your little world. It’s cute. Everyone can see it. You have a soft spot for her, and she has a soft spot for you. She even plans what to do when you both meet up.” Bucky’s eyebrows raise. “She really… does that?” A chuckle leaves Steve’s lips as he nods and fiddles with his fingers. “Of course. Trust me, I’ve waited too long to do something that you’re planning on doing. Know that you deserve this. The time is gonna come where you are dying to ask her. I know she’ll say yes.”

“You’re thinking about something, aren’t you?” 

“Huh?” He asks, snapping out of his thoughts, making you smile and shake your head. “What’s on your mind sweetheart?” You question softly, subconsciously playing with his dark locks with your delicate fingers. 

 Boy, did Steve’s words ring so true at this moment. 

He adored how the sunlight made your complexion look almost golden. Your hair was blowing softly in the wind, framing your beautifully shaped face. Your kind smile was knocking his lungs out. It was nicely paired with the beautiful body of water that was in front of you both. Once again, he felt like he was in paradise. 

“You.” He whispers, smiling as he instinctively leans to your touch, watching you as you’re caught by surprise. “What about me?” you ask as your cheeks slowly heat up at his simple response. “Everythin’ about you sweetheart. From the time we met at the market, the quinjet, everything.” He says, tears welling up in his eyes as the amount of love that he’s received from you hits him full force. As if it was a wave, growing bigger and bigger as his memories of you both flash before his eyes. “I wanna keep feelin’ this way. No one does these things for me, no one is willing to stay for this long. Everyone fears me. Not you. You didn’t waver, Y/N. You stayed.” He whispers, voice cracking at the thought. 

Tears managed to fall down your face, nuzzling your nose with his. “You gave me a sense of peace that I haven’t felt in decades, sweetheart.” He sniffs, allowing himself to feel you, allowing his feelings to take control. “You make me feel like I can be Bucky. Even if I’m figuring it out, I know you’re helping me a whole lot. Can’t believe I got a wonderful gal like you, Y/N.” You cried even harder, proud of how far you two have come, no ounce of regret towards your decision. “I’m glad you were stubborn to want to try, because I want to try for you too, Y/N. I wanna keep being this way with you, where we both find peace. Imagine that huh? One day, we can have a little house, with our children… whether it be actual kids, plants, animals, you name it.” He whispers into your lips, running his hands through your hair, loving the feel of you. 

“Maybe we can get that cat you’ve mentioned wanting to have too,” you giggle softly and breathily with a smile as you scoot closer to him. “Yeah, maybe we can. We can have picnics, movie nights. Oh, doll. That’s the dream, isn’t it?” “Buck, you have no idea how much I think of that. When this is over, I’d love to do just that.” You whisper with confidence, tears continuing to fall as you both bask in that fantasy. “I love you, YN,” 

“I love you too, Buck… so so much.”

“Then, will you marry me?”

Wait. 

You looked up at him in shock, gasping at the realization of the fact that he proposed to you. You barely registered that his hand was no longer in your hair, but instead, on a velvet box with a beautiful diamond ring that shone brightly against the sunset. You cried even harder and nodded, heart racing fast. “Yes, Buck… yes. Yes!” You wail, watching as his hand carefully slipped the ring into your ring finger. His smile reciprocated yours, beaming as he cried tears of joy and relief as you tightly embraced him, peppering his face with kisses. You pulled back a bit, admiring the brunet once again, happy that he looked as peaceful as you felt, for now, you two were one step closer to achieving a paradise of your own. 

“Let’s try, Buck. I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper before your lips lock with his, burying themselves once again in his hair. You two could feel each other’s happiness in the kiss through your smiles. You two have reached Cloud 9 once again. 

“For you, sweetheart? I’m gonna give you my all.”

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Main Masterlist

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien - From the Heart Date

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Recently, the company undertook a variety show on love. Today is the first day of filming of the new program.

The gate of the studio is facing a leisure park. After winter, the fallen leaves of the platanus will cover the road and creak when stepping on it.

There are occasional wild boars here, but nearby residents always place cat food for them in conspicuous places, so their lives are quite moist.

He always eats chubby, lying on the fallen leaves in the sun.

It happened that Xu Mo had a lecture today at a nearby hotel, and we made an appointment to have lunch together in this park.

But the work in the morning ended a little later than expected.

When I arrived in the park in a hurry, Xu Mo seemed to have been sitting on a bench for a long time.

The winter sun poured a lot of wine on his shoulders, drawing a warm light on his slightly drooping side face.

After running his fingers across a few lines of headlines on the news, he casually turned a page of the newspaper lying on his lap.

Perhaps disturbed by the sound of the paper, the magpie, which had been resting on the treetops, suddenly spread its wings to win the sky, hovering around the plane trees behind him.

With a "click" sound from the phone, Xu Mo raised his head and met my sight in the golden sun.

I was about to speak, but Xu Mo laughed a step ahead of me.

Xu Mo: Don't be sorry, it didn't take long.

MC: Professor Xu knows how to read minds, he can guess what am I thinking.

Xu Mo: Mind reading is simple, and so will you. If you don’t believe me, you can try and guess what I’m thinking now.

MC: You should be thinking how to punish this late person?

Xu Mo: Well, a good guess.

MC: Why not punish her to eat dinner with Professor Xu at night.

I sat down next to Xu Mo. He put away the newspapers and took out the coffee and sandwiches prepared for me from the paper bag.

Xu Mo: It's a good proposal. However, your new show has received very enthusiastic response. The filming of the last few issues should be very busy, right?

MC: These two days are okay, and no matter how busy the work is, it is no more important than eating with Professor Xu.

I took the coffee and opened the drinking spout on the lid of the cup, and a hazelnut scent spread immediately, making the noon breeze mixed with the sweetness of winter.

MC: How about you, how about today's lecture?

MC: Sneak out during lunch break...

MC: It should disappoint many professors who want to have lunch with you and take the opportunity to exchange a few more words, right?

Xu Mo gave a frank hum, but his expression was always relaxed and casual.

Xu Mo: It doesn't matter, I have a valid reason, they can understand.

He crossed his legs, leaned back in the chair and squinted.

Xu Mo: I told them that I was in charge of the program as a consultant and encountered some problems during the filming, so I had to take the time to communicate with the producer at noon.

I was stunned for a moment.

MC: Professor Xu, based on my assessment of the status quo, it can be understood as: Have you lied to them?

Xu Mo showed a serious expression.

Xu Mo: If the producer is willing to talk to me about the shooting of the show, I think this cannot be called a lie.

Xu Mo: How is it, has the problem you mentioned to me been solved?

During the shooting of this love variety show, something unexpected happened to me.

A female guest told us after the filming of several episodes of the show that she really had a feeling for a male guest on the show.

She proposed an idea and wanted to make a confession part in the program.

This is not only a brilliant idea in terms of program effects, but also fits the theme of the variety show. After several discussions, we decided to cooperate with her in planning.

But the specific way of confession made us tangled for several days.

MC: At that time, we were a little too solemn when we wanted to give gifts. We were deliberately alone and afraid of embarrassment.

Xu Mo turned to me with his arm on the back of the chair, listening patiently.

Xu Mo: And now, is there a conclusion?

MC: Of course~ I am very professional in doing matchmaker.

I vividly described to Xu Mo the opinions that the program team finally reached.

MC: We are going to put her confession note in the clue box in advance.

MC: This is a puzzle-solving session of a two-person team. When the time comes, the male guest will be alone to open the box.

MC: If he is surprised when he sees this note, it will be Happy Ending!

After listening to my description, Xu Mo sighed.

Xu Mo: It takes courage to express your feelings frankly.

Xu Mo: Girls, are always braver than I thought.

The prosperous sunshine shrouded Xu Mo, and I looked sideways at his silhouette overlapping with the light, and every corner of my heart was covered with light emotions.

There are long white clouds floating in the sky, I am holding hot coffee, and my thoughts are also floating slowly.

MC: The moment when ‘liking’ happen, the feeling of heartbeat becomes a seed.

MC: It will grow instinctively, facing the sun and rain.

MC: As for what kind of flower will eventually bloom, it may no longer be important.

MC: The important thing is an instinct.

I leaned closer to Xu Mo, looking at him tightly with my eyes, making a meaningful hint.

MC: As long as this person's eyes look at me, the sun will pour down, and the seeds will surely break through the soil.

He propped his chin and smiled faintly.

Xu Mo: Is it the same instinct as moths attracted to fire?

MC: .....

I suddenly stopped talking.

Xu Mo showed some doubts.

Xu Mo: Did I say something wrong?

MC: Hahaha although it is a bit horrible... but what I think of is a big mosquito lying on the lampshade.

The warm atmosphere was inexplicably broken, and Xu Mo's expression was emotional.

MC: So it's better not a moth, it can be a better looking insect.

Xu Mo: .....

Xu Mo: Haha.... hahahahaha

I don't know why I got into his smile. Xu Mo laughed out of nowhere. He even stooped slightly and put his forehead on my shoulder.

After a while, he raised his head and looked at me, still smiling while talking.

Xu Mo: Well, it's not a moth, it's the instinct of the world's best-looking insect to attack the source of fire.

Seeing that Xu Mo was in such a good mood, I couldn't help but want to tease him a little bit, so I deliberately made a distressed expression, sighed and lowered my head.

MC: What a pity....

Xu Mo: What's wrong?

I took the last bite of the sandwich and patted the crumbs on my fingers, pretending.

MC: The atmosphere was so good just now, I could have taken the opportunity to kiss you.

I caught the slight astonishment in Xu Mo's eyes, and learned his tone mischievously.

MC: I'm teasing you, don't be nervous.

Suddenly he got up and stepped in front of me, bent down directly, and got close to the distance that crossed my breath.

The clear eyes in front of me fell into a pale yellow halo, swaying gentle ripples.

He did nothing, was silent, and looked at me quietly with these eyes.

One second, two seconds, five seconds...ten seconds.

I lowered my gaze subconsciously several times, but every time I lifted it up again, I could see an inch of smile on his lips.

Damn it, lost again!

I turned my face in discouragement, put on a stubborn expression and no longer looked at him, he gave a triumphant smile, and pressed his lips to my forehead.

Xu Mo: Okay, I have to go back to work.

Xu Mo: The spare key is still in the same place. If you can't find it, remember to send me a message.

The voice was soaked with warmth, as if the sun had melted in it all winter.

I feel my auricles are burnt red, nodded.

At the end of lunch time, I hurried back to the studio.

In the afternoon, I mainly took some empty shots with very little content. The ending time was two hours earlier than I expected.

According to the agreement with Xu Mo, I went to his house in advance to wait for him.

When the door was pushed, the wind from the balcony exposed the corridor, blowing a bunch of papers hung on the wall. I quickly closed the door and walked to the paper curiously.

MC: When did Xu Mo paint these...

A thin hemp rope hung on the wall, and seven or eight semi-finished paintings were clamped on them with wooden clips.

All the paintings are me.

I was standing in the snow, I was squatting on the ground to pick up maple leaves, and I was standing in the wheat ears during an outing...

The reason they are said to be semi-finished products is because Xu Mo only gave them half the color.

Many scenes still have traces of sketches, only me and the things around me have color.

It is like a drop of paint falling in water. The color in the middle is dense. The more it spreads, the lighter the color.

But there is only me in these paintings...

I personally made the next decision and took out the easel from the corner of the balcony.

MC: But...

I looked down at my cashmere coat. If I rubbed the paint, it should not be easy to wash.

After a short hesitation, I pulled out a white coat from Xu Mo's laundry basket, which he had not put in the washing machine, and replaced it.

I'll help him wash all these later.

After I was ready, I rolled up my sleeves, picked up the paintbrush and traced Xu Mo's profile on the drawing paper...

Time always flies quickly when you focus on doing things.

When I raised my head again, the window was already a little gloomy, leaving only a faint golden sunset on the curtains.

There was a creaking sound from the door. Once I looked back, I found that Xu Mo had already walked in.

Xu Mo: Sure enough, you were earlier than me.

He put down his briefcase and put on slippers.

Xu Mo: Are you painting?

MC: Uh, yeah~

Xu Mo: It's a good pastime. I'm still worried on the way back. You won't know how to pass the time.

I put aside the paintbrush, stretched my waist, and scratched my wrist.

MC: Although I used Professor Xu's drawing board without authorization, I have a reasonable use.

I removed the half-colored draft from the drawing board and showed it to Xu Mo excitedly.

MC: Although the grading is a little frustrating....

MC: The color of the hair is darker, the complexion on the face is whiter, and the lip color seems too red.

MC: But on the whole, it still shows 80% of the beauty of Professor Xu.

MC: How do you rate it?

Xu Mo didn't speak, but just stared at the painting in my hand and looked again.

He lightened his tone, and gently ran his fingers across the paint on the painting, and the wet color was on his fingertips.

Xu Mo: The painting is so good, I like it very much.

Seeing him a little lost, I shook the painting in my hand in front of him again.

MC: Andㅡit has a little secret!

I took one of Xu Mo's paintings, overlapped the two papers, and clamped it in between.

Although the brushstrokes are different and the colors are very different, the backgrounds of the two paintings can blend together well.

The golden wheat field connects to the azure blue sky, me and Xu Mo are facing each other in the painting, and our eyes intersect.

Naturally as if this is the original picture, there should be two people

MC: It didn't turn over!!! 

Before I painted, I didn't expect that my technique had advanced to this level.

Xu Mo stood behind me at some point, stretched out his hand to embrace my waist from behind, and pulled me into his arms.

Xu Mo: The painting is very good, I really like it.

I look back and stuck to the his side profile.

Xu Mo: I also like the paintings you paint, but if the paintings are the two of us together, I would like them better.

Xu Mo tightened his arms.

Xu Mo: I didn't mean it.

Xu Mo: Otherwise, if you talk about it, people don't have themselves in their memory. How do you draw a picture of two people?

MC: Hm.

MC: You're right.

Xu Mo's chuckle came in my ears. I pressed against the warmth of his chest and looked at the painting in front of me.

MC: Xu Mo, are you painting these, is it something to commemorate?

MC: I look at these paintings. They are all scenes from our previous trips. Some of them are from a long time ago.

Xu Mo: It is a part of memories, but it is not a memorial.

Xu Mo: It's just that these pictures are all in my mind, so I simply painted them.

Xu Mo: Or...

He paused suddenly.

Without urging me, we fell into a long silence.

The setting sun outside the window has completely sunk below the horizon, and in the dim room, the sound of the two people's interlaced breathing one after another

The gloomy light cast our shadows on the wall. From this angle, I saw that his bent waist ridge showed a slight arch.

The skin on the side of the neck is filled with a moist smell, which is the breath of Xu Mo that I am most familiar with.

Xu Mo: MC, there are some people in this world.

He spoke slowly, his voice was always calm, and his arms tightened again around my waist.

Xu Mo: Not realizing that "heartbeat" is the beginning of all beautiful stories

Xu Mo: When they find that they have the emotion of "like", the first thing they feel is uneasy.

Xu Mo: They will choose to suppress themselves, resist the occurrence of "likes", and always remind themselves not to fall into this emotion.

Xu Mo: The heartbeat they feel is a complex emotion mixed with anxiety.

Xu Mo: For such people, it can be difficult to express yourself frankly.

Xu Mo put his chin on my shoulder, and stretched out his hand, rubbing his palm on the drawing paper in front of him.

Xu Mo: I have been practicing this candor since a long time ago.

Xu Mo: What you see is the result of practice.

MC: ....

I was speechless for a while and didn't know how to describe my feelings at the moment.

He suddenly bent over and picked me up, strode to the front hall, and put me on the table.

Dark blue night was thrown into the room, and the deep eyes that were close at hand had dark gutters, and they were silently conveying something.

Xu Mo: Or maybe I paint these paintings just to tell you what kind of flowers the seed planted in my heart bloomed.

The ice layer, which had been covered by snow for a long time, finally cracked a tiny mark and made an inaudible sound, but it clearly fell into my ears at this moment.

What followed was that the invading ice tide finally broke through the heavy ice and flowed into the spring.

I fixedly looked at him, as if finally seeing the person in front of me as the person I knew best.

Xu Mo: You are right, the upward growth of seeds is an instinct.

Xu Mo: Even if you know that you will risk tears when you build bonds with others.

Xu Mo: Even if this effect can be explained by factors such as dopamine, phenylethylamine, norepinephrine, and endorphins, I cannot suppress this instinct.

He paused and took my hand to his lips.

Xu Mo: I am willing to obey this instinct.

All the language that expresses emotions is stuck in my throat, and there is no way to convey and vent it.

Xu Mo smiled and came up.

When our lips touched, I saw the tide surge in his eyes.

Xu Mo: .....

All the senses are overwhelmed by such turbulent emotions, as if falling into the deep sea, the hands we hold together are tightly clasped.

Sanity is slowly being pulled away, only the hot breath is getting stronger and stronger.

I opened my eyes slightly, and saw the most straightforward expression in his eyes, which he always used to be silent.

MC: Xu Mo....

Between my lips and the tip of my tongue, I called his name softly, as if reading a mark on my heart.

Xu Mo: Hm..

Slowly, Xu Mo's lips and teeth went down and gently bit on the side of my neck. I was itchy by him. Several times I tried to turn my head to avoid, but I was caught by him.

He seemed to be aroused, and nibble all the way from the side of the neck to the earlobe.

I stepped back half an inch, and he went one foot in until he forced me to the corner, completely circled into his arm.

MC: Xu Mo, you  shameless...

After I protested in a low voice, he finally let go of me slightly, his eyes full of interest.

Xu Mo: I know.

Xu Mo: But no matter what I want, you will satisfy me, won't you?

MC: Bad guy.

He has an innocent tone.

Xu Mo: Is this a bad guy?

I nodded heavily.

He put on an expression of serious thinking, but reached a conclusion within a few seconds.

Xu Mo: Apart from making you a little irritated, there seems to be nothing wrong with being a bad guy.

Xu Mo: Besides, your face now is really cute.

Xu Mo: People can't help but want to bullied the cute.

MC: ...

MC: You are still righteous!

Xu Mo: Oh, yes.

Xu Mo smiled, buried his head on my shoulder, and exhaled gently.

Xu Mo: MC, Do you know what instinct brings me?

He opened his mouth softly and whispered.

Xu Mo: Happiness.

Xu Mo: A pleasure in which desires are satisfied and worries are filled.

Xu Mo: In other words, it is this kind of happiness that makes me unable to resist this instinct.

His hand slid across my waist, cupped my cheek, and kissed every inch of my skin.

But every time, it was just a light touch.

Not a strong desire, I feel more of a gentle invasion at this moment.

From the side of the neck to the cheeks, from the corners of the lips to the eyes.

Like tides over the ankles and fine sand over the toes.

He distanced himself and looked into my eyes carefully.

Xu Mo: I want to thank the light coming from these eyes.

Xu Mo: Let the seed in my heart bloom a beautiful flower.

Hot fingertips ran across my skin, Xu Mo clasped my hand and pushed me completely against the wall.

The fine kisses linger on the side of the neck, and he sucks lightly and hardly, leaving warm red marks on it.

The night enveloped the city.

The deep night mixed with the beautiful blue slowly spread out, and the deep background color was reflected in Xu Mo's eyes.

Xu Mo: I am glad I did not miss the beginning of this wonderful story.

Xu Mo: As for the ending of this story...

Xu Mo: What do you hope it looks like?

I thought for a while, but couldn't answer.

MC: I didn't think about it.

MC: But it must be better than the beginning.

I stretched out my hand to pull Xu Mo's tie, and skillfully pulled it out of the collar.

However, the brain becomes clear inexplicably under the action of complex sensory organs, and plays back one memory after another.

MC: In fact, at the beginning, I was not always firm, and I was a little uneasy, a little bit uncertain.….

MC: I often feel that you are in front of me, but so far from me.

Xu Mo paused slightly, but did not stop.

Xu Mo: And then?

I tried to think about it, and couldn't help but giggle.

MC: I'm so happy, so happy that could forget this anxiety

MC: You look happy when you look at me, and you are happy when you talk to me.

MC: If you stay with me for a little while, I can even be happy all day.

Xu Mo reached out and stroked the side of my face, sighing in a low voice

Xu Mo: Silly girl.

I pulled on his collar, trying to get him closer to me.

MC: Xu Mo, I want to hug you.

MC: ... also want to be held by you.

Xu Mo pulled me completely into his arms, tightening his arms hard enough to prevent us from leaving a little gap.

I clung to his embrace and kept in mind every bit of his feelings.

Looking back now, maybe all the good stories in the world have their beginnings to follow.

But someone stood in front of me, and I was very happy because of it.

Then he looked at me, and my heart bloomed.

---------- END ----------

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

[crowdedimagines]

Leaked - Harry Styles

2.8k :) 

“Y/n?” His voice rings out a soft echo. The only noise in my room tonight. I simply answered so the incessant buzzing on my nightstand would finally cease. If only I had checked the contact, I wouldn’t be sitting up straight in bed, staring into the black of my room.

“Hello?” I answer back after a long enough pause for both of us to know that I have just woken up and I wasn’t fully aware of what I was answering.

“I’m sorry to wake you. I forgot what time it is there right now.” I can hear some shuffling on his end, it sounds like he’s getting up and walking around. He must be in London right now, not in his home only a ten minute drive from mine in Malibu. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, letting my comforter drop from my shoulders.

“What’s wrong Harry?” I ask, cutting to the chase. The slight nervous edge in his voice tells me that something is most definitely wrong. I can’t just sit in silence waiting for the world to stop, I need him to spit it out. Spit out whatever made him call me after nearly a year of no longer being together.

“I had a leak. Someone hacked my phone.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but this was far from it. I let out a sigh, he’s okay. At least physically. I can feel a slight weight lift off my chest, but it’s far from light still.

“Okay?” I prompt for him to continue.

“It’s pictures of you, Y/n.”

And to think I was worried about him. His words make my ears ring for a few seconds. An eerie pitch fills the void between us, neither of us knowing the words to help this situation.

“Which pictures?”

I switch Harry to speaker and open twitter, ignoring the mass texts that are coming in right now. My manager and my publicist ranting on our group chat but the messages fade into the background as soon as my eyes cross the trending page.

“Um-”

#Y/n’sleaked

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” My hands start shaking as I look over the images shared with the entire world. Not even just one, multiple over the time we shared a relationship.

A picture I sent him on tour, standing in our mirror with not a thread of clothing. Bare as the day I was born. I remember taking this picture as a tease right before he had to take the stage at Madison Square Garden. Now more people than can fit in Madison Square Garden have seen that picture.

Next, is a picture of me in a rather compromising position on my knees looking up at him. It’s not hard to tell what was happening or about to happen. Harry took this one, It was already a hot night for us, and somehow him pulling out his phone snapping a quick picture made it even hotter. Now I need to worry about my family ever seeing this.

Finally, the most modest of the group, a picture of me in simple dark red lingerie thrown on the bed by Harry. Once again, a picture that Harry had snapped himself. I had just come home from tour and he answered our door and I dropped everything I had, including the clothes I had been wearing. He chased me up to our room, he finally caught me in our room and literally threw me on the bed. He pulled out his phone claiming he wanted to remember the sheer joy he was feeling in that moment. Now it’s bringing me dread.

Tweet after tweet sharing the same group of photos.

Harry doesn’t say a single word, knowing that I’ve seen exactly what he was trying to break down to me.

“Oh my god.” I shutter, refreshing as the tweets come in by the hundreds.

“Y/n I-”

I hang up before he can utter another word. I can’t speak with him right now, knowing exactly who’s to blame for putting me out there like that. We broke up nearly a year ago, if he had simply deleted the photos once the relationship was over, maybe we wouldn’t be here.

I read the thread of messages between Jordan my manager and Paula my publicist. Both are trying to diffuse the situation. I wonder how they found out, did they get a call at two in the morning from Jeff?

I simply reply that in the morning to meet at my house to get everything sorted out, there’s no point in stressing over what we can’t change and losing sleep over it. They both agree to be at my house bright and early at seven.

I put my phone back down and pull myself under the covers. At least for a few more hours this can’t be real. A few more hours I can hide under the covers and pretend that this isn’t happening.

I put coffee on, knowing that the girls will be here any moment, hopefully with a plan in hand on how we can diffuse the situation.

“Good morning.” Paula smiles cheerily followed by Jordan who just has a tight smile.

“Please tell me there’s something we can do.” I sit down on my touch, letting my hands warm on the mug.

“Yes, we-kind of!” Paula gushes.

I look to Jordan for a clear answer. Paula has always been a little nuttier, I love her to death, but right now I need serious and I need a plan. I need cold and honest.

“I talked with Jeff for a while last night and we both agree that we think it’s best for us to meet up together to discuss a course of action in person. We have a flight in an hour.”

“So you’re telling me that my nudes leak from his phone and now I have to hop on a plane to go see him?” My jaw must reach the floor by now.

“It’ll be better to get this all sorted out with both teams together. We have the same common goal here, we just want to make this look a little better.”

“Easy for you to say when it’s not your body trending on Twitter.”

“I wasn’t the one sending them.” She raises her brow, she’s told me a dozen times to never put myself in a position like this. That there can’t be any leaks when you don’t take anything private.

I climb upstairs to my room and grab a bag to start packing. I throw on a cute sweat suit and find a pair of dark tinted sunglasses. If anything, the airport is the last place I should be right now. The paparazzi are worse than they’ve ever been, even with Harry, I’ve never been bombarded like this. They throw question after question to me, hoping to get the first scoop on me the morning after it leaked. While it’s still hot and trending with every news outlet.

“Jesus.” Paula mutters, “Still got all your fingers and toes?”

I smile finally, “I’m fine, thank you.”

The flight is peaceful, thankfully. Jordan types a mile a minute on her laptop next to me. Surely, trying to work out a plan and get as many pictures taken down as possible. Not that it matters now, it’s out in the world forever now.

A sleek black car picks us up and drives the familiar route to Harry’s London home. We pull into the driveway and it knocks the air out of my lungs as soon as my feet hit the ground. There’s several cars that don’t belong to Harry, which means it’s a full house today.

I let Jordan walk in first, letting myself weakly trail behind. I haven’t seen Harry since the break up. Maybe once at an award show, but it was far away and we didn’t exchange words. I definitely didn’t think I would be stepping into his house again.

“Jordan.” Jeff greets, getting up from the dining table where it looks like people have set up camp. A whole crew of people making calls, scouring Twitter, and god knows what else.

“Hi, Jeff.” She smiles.

I look around a little, trying not to be obvious. The house looks the same, Hardly a single thing out of place in over a year. Not that I expect it too, I never fully lived here outside of a few weeks at a time. It’s not like our shared Malibu home that we sold in the break up. This place was always predominantly his.

Speaking of Harry, finally he looks up from his phone, he had been biting at his cuticles probably worrying, panicking. He tucks his phone in his back pocket and walks over to the rest of us. Paula instantly pulls him down for a hug, she always loved him.

“Harry!” She sighs.

He lets out a soft laugh and bends down to hug her short stature. We make eye contact a few times, but never say anything.

“I wish this was under different circumstances.” Paula whispers, even though we still all catch it.

“No hug? Harry teases Jordan. They were never close but at least he’s attempting to lighten the mood. Harry is probably the last person on this planet that she wants to hug.

“I’m not your biggest fan right now.” Jordan sighs, her steel cold gaze returns. I bite back a smirk over how protective she can be sometimes.

“Y/n, I-” Harry starts, finally turning his full attention to me.

“Y/n!” A louder voice cuts him off, I glance over his shoulder to see Gemma getting up from the couch in the living room, Anne close behind.

“Oh my god, I’ve missed you!” She pulls me in for a hug, her arms pulling me in tight, as if to make up for the months of nearly no contact.

“I’ve missed you too, Gem.” I tighten my grip around her.

Anne appears in my line of vision now, smiling softly. I release my grip on Gemma and she does the same, Anne taking her place.

“You’ll get through this, darling.” She whispers softly as she rubs her hand up and down my back. Her words bring tears to my eyes. I’ve tried to not let myself be sad about this. I’ve only felt anger, but hugging Anne has opened the floodgates. “You’re strong.”

“I need to freshen up.” I clear my throat, Anne pulls back and smiles.

No one says a word as I excuse myself to the closest guest bathroom. I wash my face with cold water and take a few deep breaths trying to prepare myself somewhat for what I have to go out there and face. I open the door and notice Harry leaning against the wall across from the door.

“Hi.” He picks his head up, no longer staring at the ground.”

“Hi.” I say back.

“Y/n I am so sorry. I had no clue any of this would happen. If I had known-”

“Why did you keep the pictures Harry?” I ask, I want answers not apologies. He’s still Harry and I know he’s feeling so much guilt right now.

“I don’t really know.” He shrugs, “I wasn’t being pervy with them, wasn’t keeping them for any indecent reason. They were just another memory that I didn’t want to lose. I didn’t delete any of the pictures.”

I can’t think of a response which is fine because Jeff calls for both of us to join them. We sit down at the table along with a few unfamiliar faces. As soon as we do they dive into the details, talking about how somehow Harry’s iCloud was hacked and that meant they had access to all photos.

“Well why are my pictures the only ones out there? It’s his phone that got hacked!” I yell.

“We don’t know.” Jordan answers, “We don’t know what else they got either. If they have more that they’re waiting to sell.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Harry mutters, rubbing over his eyes.

“Well Harry, got anything else I should worry about? Or any other girls you should warn?” I turn to look at him, a flash of red creeps up his neck and hangs around on his cheeks. It was a low blow, but it slips out before I can stop it.

“There’s no one else.” Harry answers, “And for other pictures I don’t know to be completely honest.

“Well, it might help for us to get an idea of what else could be out there. We should try and get an idea of what else the two of you have.” Jeff's words make me look to Anne, now it’s my turn to blush but she isn’t phased by any of it so far.

“Well it could be worse.” A man from Harry’s team states as he shuts his lap top, leaning in to join the conversation.

“How so?” Gemma prompts crossing her arms over her chest.

“Any publicity is good-”

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence.” I cut off the man before he can continue. “You can’t talk. You can’t say any publicity is good publicity. Not until your body is trending on Twitter. Not until everyone with social media has seen your body, talked about it, and used it. Not until you have to call your parents and tell them you’re sorry and to stay away from phones for a while. Not until your body is no longer your body.”

The chair loudly scrapes against the floor as I stand up. I can’t sit here at the table and listen to them talk about it like it’s not as huge as it is. Because to them this is work, to me it’s my real life. I make my way towards the back porch. It’s always been one of my favorite spots. It’s got the best view of the garden.

I trust Jordan for decisions on this. She knows me well enough after all of these years together. They’ll run anything else past me, but I don’t need to be in there while they attempt damage control.

I sit down on the outdoor couch and pull my legs up to my chest. It’s peaceful for a few minutes and I just let myself bask in it. I could probably fall asleep if I tried, jet lag and all. It’s soft, but still loud enough for me to hear the door open. I turn to see Harry just standing there, trying not to invade my bubble while still giving me my space.

“C’mon.” I nod to the spot beside me. There’s no point in being mad anymore. What’s done is done. I will always love Harry more than the drama.

He shuffles over and takes a seat. A slow fog rolls in as it slowly gets darker.

“Do you ever miss it?” His voice quiet and steady. I don’t have to ask to know he’s talking about our relationship.

“Harry, we dated for three years, of course I’m going to miss that. Now what’s got you all sentimental? See those pictures and remember how good of a lay I am?” I tease bumping his shoulder with mine, with a smirk. He lets out an airy laugh, easing the tension.

“No, even before these past few days.” He finally looks over at me, tearing his eyes away from the yard, “I always miss you.”

“Harry.” I sigh. “We both agreed. We were both touring, we never even saw each other. And when we weren’t we were stuck in the studio. Different studios I might add.”

“Isn’t rarely seeing each other better than never?”

His question hangs in the air, both of us leaving it unanswered.

“I don’t know, Harry.” I answer after several minutes. The sun dips below the horizon, and my head dips down to his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

I don’t know how long we sit like that. The sun is gone now, and the breeze actually feels cold, but Harry’s arm is heavy and warm around my shoulder.

The door suddenly opens causing both of our heads to perk up. It’s Gemma with the smallest smile on her face.

“They’re asking for you guys in there.”

“Ready, love?” Harry stands, holding out a hand to pull me up with him.

“Well it’s now or never.”

part two? let me know what you guys think

[whump-town]

Lie to Me

Chapter Two

Warnings:

Chapter One

It’s not as bad as it looks.

Derek Morgan stands in place, his right hand coated in a drying layer of the foaming pink blood Hotch had choked up. He’s staring ahead, eyes growing an unfocused haze as his body and mind struggle to keep pace with all that’s just happened. No nurse has stepped in to remove him, medical staff simply navigate around him. It’s violating, it feels like he’s being given a front-row seat to a trauma no one’s supposed to witness. Unmoving, he’s unable to look away. Tears start to cloud his vision but someone has to stay. Someone has to see.

The catheter that they use to suction his mouth is clear. The tubing long and spirally, the room’s occupants able to see the sea foam blood leaving Hotch’s lungs. He’s sat up on the stretcher, shirt cut-off in a long simple swipe. Left to be packed into a bag, the once white fabric speckled in pink. There’s a cloth against the upper section of his chest, catching drool and blood that the doctors miss with the tube hunting the corners of his mouth. Hotch heaves, producing nothing from his empty stomach than acid and thin, soft pink spit. He twists away from the catheter, sucking in wet wheezing breathes. Sounds like he’s breathing through a straw, waterlogged and thick.

A nurse directs Derek closer to the bed with a hand on his bicep, her kind words of encouragement going over his head as he pulls his shell-shocked body closer to Hotch’s. That whispered, useless comment bursting through the space between them. It’s not as bad as it looks. Derek finds that incredibly hard to believe, no matter how neatly they wipe Hotch’s mouth and rid the space of blood-tinged rags.

He’d sat in the ambulance for ten minutes listening to Hotch choke on blood. Heard the EMTs warning the hospital about a pulmonary aspiration, watched them debate intubating Hotch while he was still conscious enough to writhe on the stretcher. Trying to pull his body away from the steady hands placing an IV, to sit up and get away from them. Derek could do nothing, had been forced to

It’s not as bad as it looks. He’s assured, taking the thin, uncushioned chair at Hotch’s side. Close enough now to see the pink of Hotch’s dried blood on the side of his cheek. To hear the wheezing breathes he’s taking, quick and shallow. His eyes dart underneath his eyelids, fingers jerking as he struggles to find comfort trapped between awareness and the bliss of unconsciousness.

One week after his diagnosis he had a panic attack. Not the sort he could hide, as he’d hidden many, but suddenly just the full force of his life hitting him centerfold and buckling his knees from underneath him. Jessica had Jack in the kitchen, the two of them laughing as she made fun of his inability to cook. Jack eagerly agreeing, lacing light accommodations in their mix to make him the butt of their joke. Thoughtful and grounding. He listened to his son try and recount at least one meal he hadn’t ruined by burning it. He’s gotten way better at cooking but for a few months, they survived off of chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese (that he could never get the shells to soften entirely), and frozen vegetables. Off of the kindness (and off fear) of Dave and Penelope bringing pre-cooked meals over. Things he could keep in the freezer and just stick in the over.

He’d tilted his head back against the wall, laced his fingers through the strands of the carpet, and held on. Tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. Listened to Jack sticking up for him, “it wasn’t that bad” Jack pouts. And he’d managed a shallow smile, still choking on punched breathes leaving his parted lips. He’s Haley’s son, through and through. The only people who have ever stuck up for him -- even in the face of his awful cooking. Jessica found him on the floor twenty minutes later. Old tears drying on his face and new ones still dripping down from his eyelashes. He told her the truth when she asked what was wrong, took his burden, and brought her down with him. He held her as she cried into his shoulder and then he cried when she asked him to stay, not to leave her. She’s so tired of losing her family and he cracks a smile, thinks an awful little stabbing joke about how he’s the reason she’s lost her family. Haley. Her mother to a heart attack three months after Haley died. Now him, his own body betraying him.

It’s not that bad, he promises but all he can think about is his father. Lung cancer at fifty-three and dead by fifty-four. He’s only fifty but he’s still repeating the story.

We’ll do it together, she assures him but he’s already made sure that’s not an option.

“He’s so cold,” JJ whispers. She’s the only person who can stand to get close enough, who can penetrate the heavy sickness in the room to take his hand. To hold his stiff, cold fingers between her own. She looks over her shoulder, expecting someone to say something but finds them all in the distance. Unable to fully enter the room. Pressed to the walls. Eyes counting the tiles on the floor and making up the ceiling. JJ frowns sadly at them, not surprised but disheartened. She warms his hand between her own, trying to rub warmth back into the cold digits.

Jessica comes into the room, a storm of movement and noise that throws the silent contemplation of the room off. She looks around herself, frowning at the collection of them before rolling her eyes. She knows of the team intimately. For years she’s been listening to Aaron come home and talk about them and she’s grown to know them by means of her own exchanges as Jack gets older. They’re Aaron’s family and Jack’s other aunts and uncles, naturally she’s interested in them. That isn’t to say she isn’t annoyed with them. For the willing ignorance in Aaron’s rapid health decline. In the ways that they chose to appease Aaron rather than help him, can’t they see how much it is to make him happy with their ignorance rather than annoyed with their care?

“Derek,” she’s moving things around the room. They’ll be here for a while. His oxygen saturation is too low and his breathing is causing some mild concern that he might develop aspiration pneumonia. With his temperature still low he might be safe but even then they’re things are not magically better. “Will you please get his heated blanket out of that--” she points to the bag and nods when he goes to the right one. “Thank you.”

She takes control of the room, of the movements they make. Who stays when and who goes where.

He’s sleeping, probably will be for a while.

Around the third week of chemo, he started to understand the doctor’s warnings about fatigue. That, yeah, he might feel okay now and maybe he will continue to feel good for several more weeks but it’s going to catch up, and when it does he needs to be ready to ask for help. His current workload is by no means healthy and hardly sustainable for a healthy person, he’s going to have to make adjustments.

He’d started to feel the fatigue but not creeping in as he’d thought. One Wednesday morning he woke up feeling like he’d gone out drinking the night before. The sort of night Emily’s in charge of, where he wakes up in weird clothes with a haircut Emily gave him in the bathroom. It’s Wednesday, though, and his hair is intact. An awful headache and no amount of sleep were able to bring him to life.

His hours at the office got smaller, falling asleep at the desk and on the couch. He leaned to the explanation that he was just getting older. One sly comment about the grey creeping into his hairline spread unevenly and no longer contained to his temples, and he knew they were using the same safe answer. Making the journey from his office for coffee became a mental battle. He needed twenty minutes to prepare himself. Standing too quickly makes him nauseous. The chemo seemed to make every moment of the day, every complex thought, and all foods cause his stomach to twist threateningly.

Saline dripping above his head, oxygen hissing around his ears, and the warmth of overlapped conversations around him. He feels vacantly removed, left out of a loop that he can’t even tell what’s happening. Prying his eyelids open his hard, resolve weak and body too heavy. Weighed down, rocks tied to his hands. He can feel himself being pulled down through the stretcher. He can’t make his mouth work properly, lips parted in a hoarse groan. “W’as wrong?”

Jessica hears him, sees him waking up. His fingers twitching on the bed and his head lifting up off the pillows, searching for something without opening his eyes. Jessica decides to let someone else handle it, looks over the top of her book, and makes it clear.

Dave moves first, pen sliding into the pages of his book as he sits it down. He squeezes Aaron’s hand, smiling at the groan that leaves his mouth. “Shh, now,” Dave encourages. “It’s alright. It’s nothing, go back to sleep. You’re okay.” His response is another groan, slivers of brown iris’ finding him. “Back to sleep, Aaron.”

Hotch turns his head, “don’.” He pulls his hand back, agitated. He rubs the back of his hand against his nose, “not tired.”

Dave rolls his eyes, Jessica scoffs.

“Aaron,” Jessica, mercifully, leans forward to take the situation into her own hands. “Sleep.”

He groans eyes weighed down, body betraying his rebellion. “Bossy,” he rasps and Jessica just hums. She stands, smirking, and pulls his blanket back up to his neck. He does fall back to sleep, lulled under by the fingers Jessica passes across his hairline. Comforted by how tightly Dave holds his hand.

The medical staff advises and predicts a stay of about a week. They need to closely monitor his breathing for a little longer, prevent another episode from occurring. He spikes a fever and that gets him a few more days, his combative behavior doesn’t help. He’s resistant to the idea that anyone helps him and as his fever spikes it’s hard to comply to his request.

Here Garcia and Reid step back. They’re not… as prepared.

Emily doesn’t even ask when she walks into the bathroom where he’s trying to shower, talking to him about Stephanie from the third floor who was totally hitting on her. He’s shaking by the time the shower’s done, exhausted from lifting his hands up and down and from standing so long. Emily keeps talking, towel drying his hair roughly until he grumbles and then they laugh at the oddness of the situation. His hair is untamable and she gets a kick out of standing the ends up, spiking his hair into a mohawk.

Derek falls into step with him when the nurses come in to remind him of the three daily walks he’s supposed to take up and down the hall. He’s a person to lean into when Hotch starts coughing, an arm around his hips so that he doesn’t fall over. And when they wrap a fall risk bracelet around his hand Derek winces and Dave supplies “yellow isn’t your color”. Some days Derek is met with intense distance and other days they walk close, Derek’s arm already around his back, and talk about nothing, anything.

Dave brings dinner, not that Hotch is eager to eat it, but also popsicles of whatever flavor he could possibly want. He’s partial to Outshine, especially the strawberry ones, and it might not be food but it feels nearly right again to see him eating at least something. It’s a sensitive barrier, a hard line to play with knowing when Hotch just needs a little encouragement and when he just really can’t.

JJ brings movies. Her speed is action movies and Hotch is more into anything but that. So they take turns picking and usually pull punches so that the movie is something they’ll both like but when he’s feeling particularly ill, she’ll pick something awful. Give him an excuse to fall asleep during the movie and she enjoys as much, if not more than he does. An excuse to invade his personal space, cut the lights off, and lay beside him on the bed. She’ll paperwork up there, so relaxed she can zone in and out of what she’s supposed to be doing. He’ll look over her shoulder, reading case reports until he falls asleep or until she shuts the file and tosses it to the side.

These habits, these formations, do not stop when he leaves the hospital. Early. He leaves the hospital, too. Reid comes to visit on Thursday when the others are simply too busy doing other things. Resolve weakened and still shaken, Reid doesn’t last even phase one of Hotch’s plan to bust himself out of the hospital.

Derek is already at Hotch’s house, fighting Jack in the kitchen as they search through the fridge that Garcia’s just packed full of food. She feels ill-equipped to deal with everything, despite having known the longest. She feels guilty. She should have said something long before he got this bad, to the other’s so that they’d know, or to Hotch so at least he could ask her for help.

“Daddy!” Jack jumps up from the floor, running straight to his father before anyone can advise against it but Hotch withstands the collision, beaming down at his son. “I missed you.” Jack wraps his arms around Hotch’s hips, face pressed into his stomach. “Do you wanna help me put my puzzle together?”

They’re livid that he left but they don’t take it out on Reid. Emily won’t speak to either of them but she’s just too mad to hold a conversation. Derek helps him back to his room, Jack hot on their heels. It actually makes Hotch feel worse, being home and still unable to do things the way he wants. They get out of his hair a little more, there isn’t the same guilt associated with his home as the hospital.

It gives him a lot of time to think.

And he finds himself thinking about his father.

No one but Jessica knows the full story of his childhood but they’ve seen him shirtless too many times, know him too well not to have pieced at least most of it together. It’s not his best-kept secret.

He had been the kid that sat in the back of the class. Who never raised his hand, eagerly dancing in his chair, jumping at the chance to prove himself by means of validation from his teachers praising his correct answers. If they were reading aloud, rest assured he’d never have his name spoken by another classmate -- no one ever called his name and giggled in glee at his shocked and annoyed face like they did with one another. He couldn’t be certain they even knew it.

Logged with secrets of his short life, managing only the barest glimpses of life behind his dark eyes, he’d lurched and crawled his way to graduation. No more than a lifeless corpse dragging its reanimated form up and down the halls in its familiar pattern. Showing no signs of spontaneity, neither pain nor joy. Grey and slow.

It hadn’t mattered the silent prayers Hotch sent by way of hushed whispers just under his breath, Haley’s head tucked just under his chin, and the soft wisps of her hair moving with each puff of his breath. No matter how Hotch worked at integrating Jack quickly into as many social situations as possible, he had raised his son to be just a little bit too much like him. There are glimpses of Haley in the things that Jack does. Befriending Paul was leaps out of Hotch’s introverted ways and, more surprisingly, Jack’s.

Jessica’s sage words of frequently repeated wisdom disagree -- “he’s exactly like you, Aaron. The messy hair, that look he makes when he’s doing his homework… that’s all you”.

The little cowlick at the back of Jack’s blonde hair hardly speaks of anything more than Hotch forgetting to run a comb through it in the morning. Perhaps some validity points in favor of his paternity, after all it’s nearly the same cowlick he has. Neither one has tameable hair once it gets longer than an inch. Which does not leave a lot of stylistic options.

“Do you like the dinosaurs with the -- with the spiney -- What are they called?” As carefully as Derek had instructed him to be, Jack sits up by his father’s head. He’d crawled into the bed without invitation, he gets by with a lot these days, and Hotch can’t find it within himself to put those boundaries up between them right now. Jack curls up on his side, head on his father’s chest and a Triceratops staring at Hotch.

It had taken a year for cancer to kill his father and he knows that they’re right, he’s not the same as his father. His father smoked, heavily. Drank frequently and always too much. Didn’t have any friends -- and he finds himself snagged on this difference. Even as Derek throws his son up in the air, hauling Jack over his shoulder and making him shriek with laughter. As Penelope tries new recipe after new recipe of his favorite foods in the hopes that he manages to eat at least one. Not angry, not once, when he picks at the food the others shovel into their mouths. Singing her praises. Emily dragging him around on walks, slowly her pace to accommodate him. She never asks if he needs to stop, just does.

He has friends but sometimes he forgets.

“Daddy,” Jack pulls him back into the conversation. “Can we go to the museum? Uncle Spencer said there are dinosaurs everywhere.”

Hotch nods, “I can ask Uncle Spencer to take you.”

Jack shakes his head, sitting up, “I want you to take me.” He would have never demanded a thing from his father. Never once considered asking for something. Sean was allowed these luxuries, begging to be taken to a game or to the park. Jack pouts, leaning forward and tucking himself up against his father. “We can go Saturday? I’ll take a shower the night before, I promise.”

He’s been hospitalized for four days and Saturday is only two days away, it’s not enough time to recuperate. Not enough time to feel like himself but he can do it. He’ll invite Reid, it’ll provide a great distraction for them both, and that way there’s someone else to focus on. It’s just the museum.

“Okay,” he caves. “On Saturday.”

He’s got a family, people who can trust and who need him just as much as he needs them. He’s going to be okay.

[helenazbmrskai]

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.  

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

 ***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.  

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

[sckyie]

word count: 2.5k

genre + warnings: enemies to lovers; coworkers, office love, alcohol mentioned, swearing

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: hi hi here’s my exchange gift for @coophi! happy holidays and stay safe, i hope you like what i wrote for you! [ this was apart of @/haikyuucreations secret santa ]

You put your forehead on the table groaning at the recent news. "You'll get'em next time, Y/n," your coworker rubbed your back. You sighed louder as you heard something being placed on your desk. You shift your face towards the corner of the surface to see a coffee cup with your name scribbled on the side.

You rolled your eyes and looked up to see the new lead, Kuroo, being congratulated by everyone. "That was supposed to be my promotion," You grumbled. You stared at the coffee up and walked over to Kuroo's desk. Leaving the filled cup, you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Kuroo watched as you rejected his peace offering before leaving the office. He understood how you felt once you heard that you didn't get the promotion. Your papers were perfect, clients loved you both, but the one thing keeping you from getting the promotion was simple. Kuroo's numbers were much higher than yours and it crushed yours.

The thought of endless nights staying late to catch up became pointless. The effort in surpassing him wasn't necessary anymore. All your work, all your stressful nights, everything didn't matter to the manager and execs.

"Hmph," Kuroo seated himself and stared at your drink on his desk.

"Something wrong, Kuroo?" Your coworker peeked beside him.

"Oh nothing," He responds.

You return to your desk, side-eyeing your now superior. You took a deep breath before returning to your paperwork.

Numbers, numbers, numbers. You spent your shift calculating, writing, and fixing errors. The jumble of text on your screen began to hurt your brain for working so hard.

The day dreaded on as the anger in you fumed. It wasn't that you were mad for not getting the promotion. You were furious that out of all people it'd be Kuroo who got it. You despised his snarky, overly confident facade and his petty ways of trying to show you how great he was.

Finally, your shift comes to an end but so does Kuroo's. You two walk together to the elevators though you tried your hardest avoiding him. "Did I get your order wrong?" Kuroo smirked as he pressed the lobby button.

"I don't want your pity coffee," You muttered.

"It's not a pity coffee," He rebutted. "It was a hot chai latte."

"Haha," You mocked. "I don't even like chai."

"Then what do you like?" Kuroo smiled.

"Not you," You immediately walked out of the elevator, making your way to the parking lot.

"Tsk," He was the tiniest bit irritated by your tone but decided to try again tomorrow.

Papers, papers, papers. Endless papers for you to edit and write at home. It was torture but how else could you succeed in your career. Things were already shit with Kuroo trying to be friends with you. Nevertheless, you finished at least ten pages of reports for tomorrow's agenda.

Early morning, you arrived at the office before everyone like normal. Kuroo arrives with two coffees and a small brown bag. He walked over, placing the snack and cup on your desk without a word. He walks to his desk and begins his work without interacting.

You turn the cup to check what it was. "Café latte," You mouthed. You peeked in the small bag to see a blueberry muffin. Before you could return the drink, people began to file into the room. You rolled your eyes and sipped on the drink.

"Success," Kuroo thought to himself as he watched you snack and sip the offerings.

It became a daily thing for Kuroo to bring you drinks. Never the same one twice, but always a blueberry muffin. You gave in to his gesture and thanked him silently whenever he passed by.

Your favorite interaction however was his failed attempt in talking to you. "You come here often?" He asked as he placed your coffee on your desk.

"Considering I work here, yes," You say sarcastically.

"Wow I'm literally so stupid," Kuroo thought. Kuroo saw many opportunities to talk to you more but fell nervous every time. It was always hard for him to get close to someone new. His past relationships had left him hopeless for his own future. The toxicity from the past girls left him thinking he'd never be happy with someone. These past few years, he'd been focusing on himself.

Then you walked into his life. After being transferred to a new branch, you seemed different than any other girl he's met. Kuroo saw hope in you and believed that you could be the light of his love life. He admired your attention to detail, your determination, and well, your beauty. Kuroo saw all your greatest features yet he could never bring himself to tell you his admiration.

One day, you had already a shitty morning and didn't want to deal with anything at work. From annoying traffic to angry clients to the blisters from your heels, you wanted more than anything for the day to end.

A few upset clients later, your head began to pound and you excused yourself for an early break. Kuroo turned to see you sulk away, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

"What's with Y/n?" He asks his desk neighbor.

"Oh, two of her clients weren't co-operating and it's getting her frustrated," She responded. "She's been having a bad day."

Kuroo looks at your desk curiously and noticed how you had removed your heels under your desk. "Be right back," Kuroo gets up from his desk and walked over to the shared kitchen area to grab some things.

You returned from your short break to be greeted with a small pile of things. Bandages for your blisters, medicine for your headache, water, and a cut-up apple. "Take it easy," You found a post-it on the water bottle. You looked at your screen to see your client queue cleared with everyone on the list as approved. Confused as ever, you make use of the mystery goods to tend to your needs.

"Attention everyone, tonight Ryu here is throwing a little work party at his apartment," Your manager announced. "It is a small goodbye party for him and congratulations to our new lead, Kuroo." You rolled your eyes at Kuroo's name and continued to snack on the apples.

Later that night, you arrived at Ryu's house, catching Kuroo's attention. "Woah," Your male coworker gasped at the sight of you. "Damn, how is she single."

"Hey calm down, Kuroo-san has a crush on her," Other teased.

"Fuck off and keep my love life out your mouth," Kuroo nudges his shoulder. Though they weren't wrong, you were stunning. Dressed to impress and you even put your hair down from your usual updo. Kuroo was left speechless, thus leaving him too anxious to tell you anything.

After one cheesy speech and a big congratulations, the drinking began. Kuroo began to get too into the moment, having one too many drinks. You, however, stayed sober the whole party. You snickered at the sight of your drunk colleagues.

Kuroo's cheeks were bright red and he walked funny. He made his way towards you and you couldn't help but laugh. This was his chance to confess. "I- I- want-" He hiccuped between words. Kuroo began to get lost in thought, forgetting he was drunk confessing. "I- want my- keys- I- need- need  to go- home."

"I don't think so," You snatch his keys from the key holder before he could. "Do you want me to take you home?" He nodded excessively as you rolled your eyes. You chat with Ryu shortly before taking Kuroo to your car.

"Kamikita Apartments," You say. You had asked Ryu as you saw no hope in getting anything out of Kuroo. He slowly fell asleep in your car as you drove through the lit city. "I hope you know, I'm only doing this because you're drunk. I still don't like you."

"Mhm," Kuroo says in his sleep. You giggled at his expression all the way to his apartment.

Kuroo rests his arm around your shoulder as you two made your way to the apartment. You unlock the door and Kuroo immediately walks to the bedroom. Once he realized you weren't behind him, he turns back. "Where'd you go?" He pouted.

"Nowhere," You followed into his room. "Where are your pajamas- Oh, here. Change while I get you water."

Kuroo obeys your order and seats himself as he waited for his water. To him, he had already confidently talked to you about how he felt. Yet in reality, he was too drunk to even comprehend the front of his shirt.

"Here," You notice the tag in the front of his shirt as he chugged the water. "Your shirt is backward."

"Help me?" He begged. You facepalm at his tone but agreed. It felt like you were taking care of a baby. Your cheeks flushed pink once you helped him take off his shirt. You stopped to admire his face as you adjusted the middle of his sleep shirt. His hands move to rest on your hips. "It's so cold. Thank you for helping me change. Oh, and Y/n?"

"Y-yes?" You stuttered at his large hands.

"I have something to tell you," His voice started to sound sleepy. "I love you." Your eyes widen and you couldn't show him your shy expression.

"Tell me that again when you're sober," You move his hands away from you. Making your way to the light switch, you looked at the sad Kuroo. "I'll sleep in the living room. Just- go to bed."

Thankfully you had a change of clothes in your trunk that you used to sleep in. You got ready for bed, chuckling at the sounds of Kuroo snoring next door to the bathroom.

You laid silently on the couch staring at the ceiling. Those three words, you never thought you'd hear them from him of all people. It'd been years since your last break up, so you'd always been so closed off when it came to men. After getting heartbroken, you didn't think another man could love you. Kuroo was no exception. Sure he was handsome but you were adamant about staying single for the longest.

The thought of Kuroo in your life lingered up until the morning. He had woken up before you and found himself with a pounding headache. He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. As he drank his water, he spit-sprayed the water out of his mouth when he spots you sleeping. He began to cough aggressively before collecting himself. "Wha- what is she doing here?!" He whispered.

You woke up to the sound of your dying colleague, rubbing your eyes to the bright room. Kuroo walked over to you as you sat up, pulling the blanket to your lap. "Good morning," You yawned. "How's the hangover?"

"What are you doing here?" Kuroo panicked.

"You were shit-faced. This was the one thing I could do for repaying you for the coffees," You say.

"Did I do- did I say anything stupid?" He hides his face in his hands.

"You told me something," You began to fiddle with your thumbs. "I don't know if you meant it or not, but you told me you loved me."

"I...did?" Kuroo slowly moves his hands to look at you. Your face was red and you were playing with your sleeves now.

"Well, did you mean it?" You ask. "If you didn't..."

Kuroo reached over and pulled your chin up with his index knuckle and thumb. "I meant it," He says. "I really did."

Your face grew warmer at his words. "Why?" You sighed. "I'm so mean to you."

"Because," Kuroo moves his hand away to stare at his lap. "I love your smile. I love the way you work. I love how determined you are. The way you sign your papers with a tiny heart. The way you laugh at the smallest things. And...I know you might hate my guts but ever since I saw you, I admired you. You make so many people smile and bring happiness to the room. I thought I'd been on your shit list but I'm glad you took care of me- See that's another thing, you put yourself after everyone else. That's why I gave you bandaids, buy you coffee, finished your quotas for you. I just think you deserve better than what you have right now. And I'm so impressed by you-"

You got annoyed by his rambling and decided to grab his cheeks. You interrupted his words by crashing your lips into his. "You literally talk so much," You pulled away. "Can I talk now?"

Kuroo was stunned at the fact that you just kissed him to shut him up. "You just- kissed-" You pressed your lips on his again to keep him quiet. He deepened the kiss before you could pull away. "You can talk." He smiled as he pulled away.

"Okay," You move from his face. "I wanted to say, you weren't on my shit list or whatever. I was upset I didn't get the promotion and I didn't like your attitude. But, getting to know you I learnt how different you really are. Especially when you’re drunk, it's funny. Besides that, I didn't know how you felt, I didn't notice all the things you've done for me."

Kuroo placed his palm on yours, carefully comparing the size of it to yours. "I didn't think I could fall in love with someone who didn't give me the time of day," He says. You moved your fingers to trace his.

"How are you so sure that you love me?" You laced your fingers with Kuroo's.

"That's the thing, I'm not sure," Kuroo looked down at his lap. "I did all those things just to make your days easier. I thought all the small gestures I did, wouldn't matter to you. That they were just tedious things that bothered you. To be honest, I'm afraid of letting someone into my heart. I was drunk when I told you and I meant it but I want to know for sure that I'm in love with you before anything."

"Do you want to find out?" You say softly.

"Only if you'd let me," Kuroo looked up to see you smiling at him. You nodded and leaned in for another kiss. "Man if only your kisses made this hangover go away."

You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips against his once more. The feeling of his hands move to your waist caused the heat in your face to return. Kuroo pulls you to straddle his lap as he deepened the kiss. Your hands rest on his shoulders while he rubbed your sides.

"I promise to make you the happiest woman in the world," He whispered as he pulled away.

"Do I still get morning coffee?" You giggled.

"And your blueberry muffin," Kuroo chuckled. You smiled before pecking his lips. You rest your head on the crook of his neck as he rubbed your back. "I won't disappoint you."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

[taeyohonic]

Just a Taste – Chapter One

Summary: Being asked to take a blood test just to work at a merchandise booth should have been the first read flag for you. But you just gave them a sample of your blood in exchange for a very much needed paycheck and a summer job during BTS’ world tour. After the youngest member of the popular kpop band finds himself in a difficult situation, you come to realize that this wasn’t the last time you shed blood for your idols. or: You becomes the new donor for seven bloodthirsty idols, who seem to be way too interested in their new food source.

Pairing: OT7xfem!Reader

Genre: Fantasy, Smut, (Fluff)

Warnings: blood, they aren’t very nice to you...

Words: 2.7k

Chapters: Prologue, Chap. I, Chap. II, Chap. III, Chap. IV, Chap. V, Chap. VI, Chap. VII

“What do you mean ‘all the bags are gone’?”

Your supervisor does not look amused. The girl with an abnormal amount of glitter on her face does not look amused. Hell, even you don’t look amused. The stadium hasn’t even begun to let the fans in and your merch booth ran out of the official “speak yourself”-bag ten minutes ago.

This job is in the top three most gruesome things you had to do for money. But money was tight, and you didn’t want to survive another summer on ramen and cheap wine. The job ad was harmless at first glance. Just another sales job. But they promised good pay and international traveling, which was enough to let your eyes linger. There was no company mentioned, just a post box.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when BigHit responded to your application a week later. With Bangtan’s rising popularity and the massive size of their tour, extra staff had to be hired. Still, the ARMY in you couldn’t contain her excitement. This was a big deal for you. Touring with one of your favorite kpop bands, traveling to Japan and getting first dips on all the merchandise? This was a no brainer. Hell, you would have even paid them to tag along. So you dressed to impress when you attended the interview, keeping your giddiness locked behind a professional smile.

“You want what?”, you ask – disbelieve coloring your voice.

“A blood test”, the interviewer repeats nonchalantly without looking up from her questionnaire.

Was this normal procedure? You had only ever worked in your aunt’s bookstore during senior year of high school and at a fast food place all through undergrad. Neither asked for your freaking bloodline.

“What? Do you discriminate certain blood types?”, you say in mock humor. A laugh disguised as a cough rings through the room, as the cute guy in the back of the room tries to hide his amusement. His eyes are locked on your features.

“We just want to make sure all our employees are healthy. You’ll be travelling to a foreign country, working long hours.”, the woman in front of you replies, ignoring your bad attempt at a joke. She continues: “You don’t have to – of course.”

“But then I won’t be asked back for a second interview, am I right?”

The woman looks you in the eyes for the first time since entering the room. She doesn’t look as evil as she sounds. “No”

So, you guess you’ll leave with a bit less body fluid than you anticipated.

There wasn’t a second interview. The test results came with a pre-signed contract.

***

“What the fuck is up with this boy today?”, Joo-Won swears as his eyes are glued to the screen in front of you. Your shift is officially over. Most of the merchandise is packed up, all the sold-out item IDs are sent to the head quarter and you already got a notification that the next delivery will be arriving first thing tomorrow morning. Now you’re sitting together with some crew members, a half-finished soju bottle in your hand and an empty carton of take-out on your lap. The guy at your job interview turned out to be quite fun.

Joo-Won introduced himself during the briefing on your first day in Japan. He is responsible for the ARMY Bomb stands, which seems to be a very big deal around here. This is his third tour with Bangtan and he seems to know nearly every henchmen in this operation. So it came to no surprise when a stage assistant invited you both to watch the concert from one of the twelve monitors backstage. Of course, you didn’t look too out of place with your name badge and the Love Yourself-hoodie you may or may not have purchased with your employee discount.

The stage assistant, whose name you can’t remember, is fuzzing with screen number five as you take another sip of your afterwork drink. You stare not really focusing on anything. Just blank nothingness.

“You did see this as well, right _______?”, Joo-Won asks breathlessly.

You can only nod. The Fake Love performance just ended. And even though all seven idols were on fire, the youngest was just out of control.

“What did we just see?”, the boy continues.

“Rudeness”, you answer and empty the bottle with a hefty swing. You knew Jungkook would lift his shirt. You were prepared as you had seen their comeback stage more times than you’d be comfortable to admit. This was not news to you. But the aggression in his stare, how dark he growled his verses, the hard edges on his mouth, not even hinting a friendly smile, was making you uncomfortable.

Before your new friend can respond his headset beeped. Joo-Won answer, his eyes still on the screen.

“Yeah?” After a beat his eyes flash to you. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

“_________ is with me”, he says and you need a second to register your role in the conversation.

Joo-Won’s stare lingers on your face – a silent question in his eyes.

“Sure, sir. I’ll bring her to you right away.” Then he ends the call sifting, so your knees are brushing against one another.

“Care to explain, why Bangtan’s prime management wants to speak with you, _______?”, your friend asks, no judgement in his voice. What?

***

“So, I have to sign another NDA?”, you ask the manager in front of you, trying to swallow your nervousness. This is the Sejin, Bangtan’s right hand advisor. Every fan knows him from countless Bangtan Bombs and can easily recognize the fathering care in his work.

“This one… is more specific”, he explains and moves the stack of papers to you. You try to calm your excited fingers as you grab at the legal document, flipping through it.

“And it’s time sensitive”, Sejin adds and searches your eyes for attention. You give it to him.

“Time sensitive?” The papers abandoned on the table. “Is something wrong with the boys?”

There will come a time and place when you reflect on the choice of calling these men “the boys” as if they were your closest friends. But it’s not today. Today you just see a glint in his eyes.

“Yes, it’s Jungkookie”, Sejin starts and your memories flash to their concert an hour prior. How Joo-Won and you both discussed how beastly the youngest looked – how aggressive.

“Wh-what?”, you answer in question. The manager’s hands move on top of yours.

“He is ill and … you might be able to help him. We can’t transport him. And we are not sure he’ll survive an ambulance ride.”

Your brain blanks as you stand up in a swift move. This is simple: One of your most cherished idols is ill and his trustworthy manager tells you that you’ll be able to help. This is a no brainer.

“Take me to him”, you order, not even caring that Sejin’s words are not making any sense. How can a twenty-four-year-old college dropout help the golden maknae? What even is his illness?

Sejin’s smile should have been another red flag. “Slow down, _________”, he sooths and moves around the table so he is standing in front of you. “This is important. You have to sign the documents. You’ll have to transfuse blood to him.” He is handling you a pen. “There are health risks. This isn’t … the most optimal environment for a blood donation.”

Jungkook needs your blood – memories of your job interview come back.

You sign the contract, not even reading all the small-printed clauses on the pages. Before the ink is even dry, Sejin is moving you through a long corridor. His hand rests on your neck – squeezing reassuringly. A glimmer travels across your body and you try to ground yourself. Of course you are nervous. This is reasonable. You’ll donate blood to one of your favorite idols. Maybe you’ll see him, when he gets better. Hell, maybe he’ll even thank you in person! Meeting Bangtan is the closest form to aspiration you have at the moment.

“When is the nurse coming?”, you question the logistics as you move towards the farthest door labeled “BTS”.

“Which nurse?” You look at Sejin in surprise – if not a nurse, who’ll take your blood?

“Then a doctor?”, you ask and Sejin shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping him while you both come to a halt in front of the door.

“There is… no time I’m afraid”, he answers – with remorse in his voice. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, some of the fog lifted. How the hell should you give Jungkook your blood if there is not even a transfusion station here?

Sejin knocks at the door, ignoring your thumbing heartbeat and opens the door, softly pushing you into the room. “I’ll explain everything; I promise.”

***

The starving vampire smells your sweet blood as soon as the door opens – Sejin a mere decoration in his vision. Jungkook’s whole body turns towards you while your eyes nervously shift across the room. Time slows down as the maknae swiftly moves straight to you. His muscles ache and he cannot even recognize his swallow breathing. His stare is fixed on the nap of your neck – deliciously soft, milky. Not even the slightest imperfection in this human before him.

You do not even sense Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s presence as your eyes take in the predator advancing towards you. The older ones seem frozen as their youngest stops just a breath away from you. You look mouthwatering – clad in one of their merchandise hoodies, hair pinned in a mess at the top of your head, some bold eye make-up, but otherwise barefaced. You look… just right.

Before Jungkook’s grin spreads across his face, Jin takes action – trying to move between the sarved vampire and this … girl. What the hell was Sejin thinking just throwing her in here? Did he want this human dead so badly?

But the oldest is too late – Jungkook growls aggressively as he snatches you against his firm chest. All the air leaves your lungs – your breasts pressed painfully against solid muscle.

“Ahh”, you groan. As soon as the noise leaves your mouth, his lips descend against the white of your neck. The maknae hisses in pleasure; and then he is biting – hard.

Your scream misses the volume and you feel tears on your cheeks as you gaze into Seokjin’s overwhelmed eyes – hands outstretched.

Blood flows freely into Jungkook’s mouth and you hear a sickening slurping sound. The pain is blazing against your skin, every fiber of your body vehemently trying to get away from the maknae. But your fingers don’t push him away. No, the curl around his biceps – acting against every rational though inside your brain. You cling to the man sucking your blood as if he’s merely leaving a love bite.

The pain in your body slowly ebbs and you feel a bright bliss surrounding you. You’re not even sure if you are still standing at the door. There is no room – just lips against your neck and whimpers in your throat… and Namjoon’s voice far, far away.

“Jungkook stop now.”

“This is an order.”

“Jin, help me.”

“Let’s lay her down.”

“Is there a pulse?”

***

“How do you take your coffee?”, Yoongi asks while starring at you with such indifference in his eyes you’re not sure your answer even matters.

“Uhm- I” His sigh interrupts you as he makes his way from the couch across form you to the kitchenette. The whole room is dimmed in a soft light, the furniture a clean white. You feel your head spin as you try to recall what happened. Weren’t you backstage? Didn’t Jun-

“Jungkook”, your voice more of an accusation than a whisper. Yoongi’s back stiffens, but he continues to brew hot water over a ceramic filter and soon a soothing smell of coffee drifts towards you on the white leather.

“Jungkook sucked m-y – he su”

“-cked your blood. Damn girl, how hard did you hit your head when you fainted?”, your favorite rapper asks – his body finally turned towards you.

Slow, leisure steps are taken and then he sits in front of you, taking you all in. You must look like a mess; grease and sweat from your shift in the booth, plus the incident with the youngest vocalist in the band. All the blood. Your stomach turns around uncomfortably.

Yoongi is looking into your eyes and for a split second you see something other than complete boredom behind his stare, but as soon as you try to pinpoint the emotion, it vanishes.

“That’s what vampire do”, he continues and you heart reacts before the triggering word even registers in your brain. Vampire. No way.

“Go-ood one, Yoongi-ssi. This… this isn’t – some romance novel for teenagers”, you scoff, disbelieve in your voice while your heart beats hard against your chest. Without missing a beat, the idol is in your face – literally just millimeters away. The air is stuck in your lungs as you try to calm yourself.

“You know what I hate, dumb human?”

His fingers draw lines across your face – just a feathering touch, barely more than an illusion. You can only shake your head; afraid your voice will give out if you try to answer verbally.

His face moves down to your neck as his hands frame your face – no longer brushing but locking your head into place. Then his mouth dives into your neck, just resting against your pulse. You can feel the sinister smile against your skin as you shiver.

“Talking to dumb people”, his lips vibrate and you feel goosebumps traveling across your body.

“You have all the proof, but your silly little brain still doesn’t – connect the pieces”, Yoongi trails small kisses across your collarbone; a stark contrast to his insulting words.

“Do you really think our little maknae just has a blood kink?”

He moves to the other side of your neck, while titling your head forcefully to the left. You can’t move your body – muscles frozen into place. You’re just passively… enduring what your favorite idol does to you. Now his teeth are grazing your right earlobe, as his voice drops another octave into a threatening growl.

“That we just hire a college dropout because of her work ethics?”

His words hurt, but you’re more concerned with the information behind them. They know about you, must have read your file. Shame colors your cheeks and Yoongi’s nose inhales deeply against the red of your skin.

“You smell fucking delicious”, he moans and places an open mouth kiss against your rosé cheek. You can feel his saliva on your skin and a whimper of your own escapes your throat.

“You like that, dumb human? Knowing I’d love… nothing more than to bite in your flesh? Drain you dry?”, he slurs. You both know that this is nothing more than a rhetorical question – your heart, your breathing and the wetness between your tights enough evidence.

But before he can act on his words, a searing pain flashes through your brain.

“Argh”, you groan pressing your head against his cold hands with virgo. The dead skin of his fingertips sooths the throbbing in your brain temporarily. But he knows that your time is nearing its end.

“Human, listen to me”, he whispers, his previously threatening tone making place for urgent whisper.

“When you wake up” What? His hands still a vise to keep you grounded, while the pain in your head expands to your whole body. “Damn human, focus!”

He searches your eyes for recognition, but your stare moves around the room – now noticing how alien the light looks, how… clean the colors are. Is this? Are you still sleeping? How?

“When you wake up”, Yoongi’s voice nothing more than a vibrating hum in your ears, “Say no to Namjoon.”

Now he is shaking you. “Say no”

***

“Good morning, sleepyhead”, Namjoon says after you open your eyes – the morning sun blinding you momentarily.

“I made you coffee”, he adds as he pushes a steaming mug in your hands. The familiar smell takes you back to your dream, to Yoongi, his words, his plea – and you gape at the leader in front of you.

“I thought we could talk?”

_______________________

A/N: What do you guys think? I am so thankful for the feedback you guys sent me. It means a lot! I hope you like this chapter as much as i do! I’d love to hear from you again! love, dana

taglist: @m0chilattae @gali-005 @fangirls94 @dinopowa @toddsgirl27 @littlemanismoon @dkck99 @slutkoo @subtlepjiminie @coffeebeanismylife @iloverubberduckiez-blog @geminidrawsstuff @olivialovemason88

[winterscaptain]

transfer request. part three.

read part one here and part two here

a/n: this one contains smut because im insufferable so if you’re not 18+, i love you but you gotta stick to part one :) i’m so happy i got the muse for another part to this. i have a request or two in my inbox that i’m working on, but feel free to drop some more!

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open!

+++

Y/N’s nerves settle as Aaron steps out of the assistant director’s office, closes the door behind him, and flashes her a soothing smile. He offers YN a hand. She takes it and rise, ready for her portion of the evaluation. 

“I’m going to get Jack from school, and we’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” 

She hums, and squeezes his hand. Her heart’s been racing all morning, and she’s barely been able to focus on the consults piling up on her desk. Didn’t people have better things to do than hurt women in their free time?

Sensing her anxiety, Aaron leans close to her ear and she suppresses a shiver. “I warmed them up for you. You’ll be great.”  He presses a quick, casual kiss to her temple. “It’s just a formality – they know everything they need to.” 

He releases her as their interim section chief opens the door. So much had happened in the four months between the transfer request and the hearing to address it. The most extreme of which were the death of Erin Strauss and their recent move to the newly-purchased house on the river between Quantico and D.C. It had been hectic, but they were happy to finally know whether Y/N would stay with their work family or not. 

When she steps in and sits down, the assistant director looks friendly, albeit tired. 

“Good afternoon, Agent.” The director flips a page on his legal pad, and she catches Aaron’s name among his notes. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Good afternoon, Chief Leon.” She acknowledges both men with a smile. The interim chief is new to Quantico, but comes well-recommended. 

“Thank you so much for coming in with your consult list so long. It is appreciated.” 

Not that I had a choice. “No problem, sir. I’m excited to get things settled after...everything.” 

“That makes two of us,” Chief Leon says. “Your fortitude and professionalism does not go unnoticed, and I’ve appreciated your welcome as I’ve settled into the interim role.” 

She’s not sure, but it sounds like he put a little too much emphasis on interim. Letting it go, she reminds herself that she’s not here to profile but rather to discuss a rapidly-approaching marriage to one Agent Aaron Hotchner. “I’m so glad, sir. I think I can speak for the team when I say the BAU is proud to be under your leadership, no matter how temporary or permanent.” 

The assistant director finally finds his footing in his notes and looks up. “Alright, to the situation at hand. How long have you been in a relationship with Agent Hotchner?” 

Over breakfast that morning, she and Aaron had bounced their answers off each other, just to make sure everything was lined up for the bureaucratic nightmare that was a formal hearing. “Just over two years, now.” 

“Did you disclose your relationship at the time of its inception?” 

“No, sir.” It hurt to admit the flagrant policy violation, but it seemed reasonable at the time. 

“You are aware that this is not bureau policy, especially seeing as Agent Hotchner is your unit chief.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

There’s a pause, and the two men look at each other. Interim Chief Leon takes over. “Because we have evidence that your conduct in the field remained unaffected, we have decided to overlook that policy violation. Your team has also advocated for you – Agent Morgan specifically remarking on your,” he checks his notes, “admirable dedication to the team and the support you offer to your unit and unit chief in high-intensity field operations. Agent Jareau spoke of your compassion and patience with the families of victims, and Dr. Reid emphasized the importance of your skillset with children and adolescent psychology. Agent Prentiss also complimented your cohesive work style and support of your unit chief, even in disagreements. Your team is very loyal, and you should be very proud.”

“Thank you, sir.” The tone and company in the room require short and simple answers, but she so wants to defend her decision to maintain the privacy of their relationship. She laces her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting. 

“I am continually impressed with the results of the BAU’s fieldwork, and desire to disrupt the team as little as possible so you may continue your high-performance in the field.” The assistant director’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“You are to remain on assignment with the BAU until the re-evaluation of your contract in...” He checks the copy of your contract underneath his legal pad. “three years and four months.” 

Remain on assignment? “Thank you, sir.”

Everyone stands, then, and she shakes hands with both men before leaving the assistant director’s office. 

If I’m staying, and Aaron didn’t say anything about leaving, then who’s flying the plane? 

+++

When she steps into the house, she can hear Aaron and Jack playing video games in the playroom. The sun had yet to set, and she revels in the rare opportunity to share daylight with her family. 

Y/N leans against the doorframe as Jack continues to slaughter Aaron in Mario Kart. They’re both sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding the same posture right down to the slight tilt of their heads to the left. 

They still don’t notice her after about ten minutes, so she flops down and stretches her torso across Aaron’s lap so her head falls into Jack’s. Jack’s little hands immediately fall into her hair, fingers tangling in whatever he can find.

Aaron lets the controller drop to the floor and stretches his hands to cover a broad swath of her abdomen. His fingers reach from her hip to just under the underwire of her bra.  

“What kind of trouble are you getting up to in here?” 

Jack giggles and she smiles up at him. He’s upside down from this angle, but he’s still the cutest boy in the world. 

“Daddy sucks at Mario Kart.”

Aaron’s hair flops into his eyes as he releases her and reaches over you to tickle Jack. “Hey!” 

Y/N laughs and rolls over onto the floor, snatching Jack away from his father by the waist. “C’mon Jack! Run!” 

Jack grabs her hands and they run down the hallway, Aaron hot on their heels. Both she and Jack are crying with laughter at this point, and she stumbles as they turn into the living room, slipping on the hardwood in her socks. 

Aaron takes advantage of her momentary weakness and pounces, caging her in his arms as he tackles her to the couch. Jack jumps on the both of them, and they rest there for a moment, Aaron half on-top of her with her head pillowed on his arm and Jack clinging to Aaron’s back. 

The huge couch was a good investment. 

“Hey, Y/N, wanna know something cool?” Jack’s little head tips up and she brushes some caramel hair out of his eyes. It seems to get darker by the day. He needs a haircut. “Always! You know how much I love cool stuff.” 

“Dad said he got a new job and that he doesn’t have to go away so much and he’ll pick me up from Aunt Jessica’s every night before dinner.” 

She raises her eyebrows and brings a hand to Aaron’s hair. His head is burrowed in her shoulder, absolutely hiding from her prying gaze. “Oh?” 

“He also said he and Uncle Dave would help coach my soccer team and I said you can do that now because you have a ring like the other moms.” 

That draws a smile from her, and she pulls both of her Hotchner boys close, squeezing them and kissing their heads. “Let’s get dinner on, my loves.” 

+++

When Aaron tucks Jack into bed that night, she hangs back at the door. There is nothing quite like watching Aaron with Jack. They’re like different-sized versions of the same person, though there is a good deal of Haley in him. His smile, especially – wide and friendly – reminds Y/N of her often. The framed photos around the house are the strongest recollections of her. Y/N's favorite sits on the mantle with a dried rose from the funeral. It was the first thing she and Aaron unpacked, and Aaron spent many minutes standing before it, barefoot, with her tucked under his arm. 

“Do you think she would be happy?” Y/N had asked. 

He nodded, wordlessly. “She told me she was when I coded in surgery last year.”

She looked up at him, swallowing thickly when she remembered how close they were to losing him. 

Aaron snorted, changing the tone. “She also told me I’d be a fool and an idiot to let you go. She wasn’t surprised when I told her I already knew that.” He adopts her countenance for a moment, imitating her. “Well of course you know, Aaron. Knowing and doing are two very different things.” 

Y/N greets that picture every time she walks into the house. Haley, Jack, and Aaron from a decade ago smile back at her. It was their first picture taken as a family: Jack was barely three months old. The newest family photo sits beside it, Y/N’s eight-week (and most recent) ultrasound photo stuck haphazardly into the frame. 

As Aaron leans up, she crosses to Jack’s bedside and kneels. The boy reaches for her, and she gathers him into a hug. “How much do I love you, my Jack?” 

“More than the whole world,” he says, rote. She had shared that exchange with him long before she and Aaron started seeing each other, and they found it silly to stop now. 

She breathes him in, kissing his temple and tucking him back in. 

When she and Aaron finally rise and turn the light off, Jack is nearly asleep. 

Safe within the confines of the bedroom they share, she raises her eyebrows at Aaron as she removes her shirt to change into pajamas. His eyes catch on her lace-clad chest and she takes the opportunity to change the subject. “New job?” 

He huffs and flops on the bed, his shirt only half-unbuttoned, belt in-hand and slacks unzipped. “I didn’t expect him to spring that on you.” 

She sits on the opposite edge of the bed and slips her pants off, leaving her only in your matching “I’m going into a scary meeting” set of underwear. Today may have been the last day she could wear them for a while. She leans back, landing next to him and carding her fingers through his hair.

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“They offered me the section chief position,” he mumbles into the comforter. 

“Aaron! That’s huge!” She shoves at his shoulder and he groans, rolling on his side. She’s almost distracted by the adoring, soft look in his eyes. “Are you going to take it?” 

“I asked for the week to decide, but it was just a formality. It’s time, I think, to be home with Jack more.” He reaches up, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And I wanted to keep you on the team.” 

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. 

“The pay increase certainly doesn’t hurt, either,” he adds with a laugh. 

She makes herself busy with the remaining buttons on his shirt, and ruck up the tails from his slacks. “Do you get to keep your office? Who’s the new unit chief?” 

He laughs again. So many questions. “No, Emily gets my office as the new unit chief under my recommendation. But I get to keep the furniture.” 

“Emily?!” Her rapid blush overrides the excitement for her friend. A smirk crosses her face. Aaron’s mirrors yours, and they’re both thinking of one particular late night on the desk a few weeks ago. “That’s good at least. I’d like to be able to sit at her desk and look her in the eye at the same time.” He kisses her soundly. “That would be useful.” 

She reaches for him and wiggles into the middle of the bed. “I’ll miss you.” She grins against his mouth. “I’ll miss you in that vest, too.” 

He rises fully then, removing the rest of his clothes. She lifts her arms above her head, reaching for him across the bed, looking at him upside-down. He roughly grabs her wrists and firmly tugs her closer to him. 

She finds herself quickly surrounded by him, not an inch of her skin left untouched by kisses and caresses. 

+++

When he’s finally inside her, and they breathe and kiss and laugh together, they can finally relax. She’s home, he’s home. The life they share together will be one marked with joy, with patience, with understanding. 

“I love you,” she says with a gasp as he pushes deep into her, her back arching under him. 

“There aren’t words, my love. None.” 

He pushes her to your climax with a thumb on her clit, buried deep within her. She sinks her teeth into his shoulder. He follows quickly with a few sloppy thrusts. He doesn’t move even after a few minutes, still completely blissed-out, and she laughs.  

She kisses his sweaty forehead, her fingers still tangled in his hair. “So do I get to call you Chief Hotchner when I’m mad at you now?” 

He laughs, but it’s cut short by his groan and her hitch in breath when he finally pulls out of her. He takes a moment to recover, pressing his forehead to her chest. “I think,” he says after a moment, “you can stick to Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Benjamin Hotchner, Juris Doctorate for occasions like those.”

At her giggle, he continues. 

“While a mouthful, it’s quite effective at getting my attention.” 

“I’m so glad to hear that. I would hate to know I’m losing my touch.”

They tuck themselves neatly under the covers, not bothering to clean up. It’s laundry day tomorrow, after all. When she curls against his chest, he covers her hand where it rests over his heart. 

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrry-ixn @ange-must-die

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (7/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6]

Clarke usually went straight to the café, but the past few days she'd started taking a detour. Since the article in the Gazette, Finn's Coffee & Bagels had taken a serious hit. Costial was a city with a deep-rooted pride for small businesses; mom-and-pop stores that had earned their success and customers' fidelity. Hard work and honesty were appreciated - shortcuts and lies were not. In just the one exposé, Finn's shop had lost half its patrons. Other outlets had jumped on the bandwagon and word had spread very quickly that anyone who bought his food or coffee might as well buy it in super stores for the same mass-produced quality at half the price. Finn had lost the support of his backers, but, more importantly, the Mayor had publicly condemned his son's business tactics.

To be perfectly honest, Clarke took some joy in the fall of Finn's plans. She had no doubt he would come up with another project very soon, perhaps in the theater sector, but at least his future in restoration was bleak. Clarke knew gloating wasn't a good look on anyone, but she wasn't ready to climb down from her cloud just yet. She was sure something would soon come along to knock her down a few pegs, but these days she was feeling pretty confident.

The café had been busier, which Clarke and Wells planned to capitalize on with the right promotion. Today he'd surpassed himself with some mini marble cakes, one of which Clarke had shoved in her mouth as soon as he'd shown her. It was the perfect time to look more seriously into new hires, which Clarke had pushed back for far too long. Gaia and Harper had been noticeably excited by the news. Wells would vet any additional help in the kitchen, but she could tell it was a relief for him too. Their café was small, but the workload wasn't.

Clarke was drafting the job application at the end of the counter when she heard someone clear their throat. She looked up and closed the laptop with a mischievous smile, her heart doing its now familiar dance.

“Lexa.”

“Clarke.”

Lexa had her dark green raincoat on, hiding the plaid collar Clarke only associated with her now. It didn't seem like she'd ordered anything yet, bypassing the two people in line to find her.

“Have a good weekend?” Clarke asked.

“I did. Had a long chat with Semet actually.”

“And?”

Lexa smiled at Clarke's interest. “You’ll find my observations in the Gazette... eventually.”

"Nothing world-changing though, I take it?"

Lexa shrugged. "I think the world's seen most of the changes already."

"I'd knock on wood if I were you."

"Why? Wary of change?"

"No, but a break for… oh, the next five or ten years might be nice. I miss going about my day not wondering when aliens will come crashing."

Lexa laughed. "I assure you Semet's experience didn't give any indication we might soon meet our celestial neighbors."

Clarke glanced at Gaia and Harper, making sure they still had everything under control with the orders. 

“So um, I had an enlightening weekend too.”

“Oh?” Lexa asked, nonchalant.

“Yeah. I was thinking we could... discuss." Clarke bit her lip. "Maybe over dinner?”

Lexa's demeanor visibly shifted, not as casual as she'd been just a few seconds ago. “Is that really what you want?”

“Trust me, it’s become crystal clear what I want.”

Lexa seemed a cross between reticent and eager, like she was a wild animal in a cage and the door had just opened, but she didn’t quite know what might come from stepping outside- freedom or punishment.

“Clarke. Maybe we should... slow down.”

That was surprising. Clarke frowned. “Slow down from a glacial pace?”

“Just days ago you weren't even sure what to think of me."

“But then we- I thought the rooftop-" Clarke's cheeks felt warm. "I was under the impression we were on the same page."

Lexa looked away and Clarke felt her morning's happiness wither away. So much for staying on her cloud. She took in Lexa's demeanor: tense shoulders and the obvious inability to catch her eyes. Clarke truly didn’t understand her. It was frustrating - bordering on humiliating.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Clarke-"

"No, no. I don't know what game you think this is, but I'm not playing it."

Lexa seemed panicked. "It's not a game."

"Then what the fuck is it?"

Lexa looked toward the door as two people came in. Harper greeted them cheerily, waiting for their order. This was neither the place nor the time. She looked back at Clarke with pleading eyes, unable to offer an explanation.

Clarke shook her head, tired of the silence. "I told myself I'd stop sitting around and waiting for things to happen, but I won't waste my time on someone who can't decide if I'm worth the chase. You clearly don't want any sort of relationship-"

“It’s not that simple,” Lexa argued.

“It is that simple," Clarke gritted through her teeth, feeling both stupid and angry. She'd fallen for Lexa's charm again only to be disappointed once more. It felt like being doused in ice-cold water. "You either want someone or you don’t. So which is it?”

Lexa shook her head imperceptibly. There was something on the tip of her tongue, Clarke could tell, but she couldn't get it out.

Clarke glanced at the front door when it opened, a family of three walking in. She swallowed her disappointment at the turn in her morning before giving Lexa a hard stare.

"I have to get back to work."

"Clarke-"

“You need to figure out what you want,” Clarke snapped lowly. “Preferably without stringing people along while you do so.”

She took the family's orders with a smile, trying her hardest not to look toward the door as Lexa walked out with hunched shoulders.

* * *

Clarke posted the application on their website and several job boards in the afternoon. Resumes came fast, but Wells wanted to be a part of the process - usually less involved in the business side now that most things were squared away - so they'd set some time aside on Wednesday to reach out to applicants. Wells even planned to speak to a couple smaller theaters over the weekend to expand their partnership program.

And yet, the more good news and exciting plans came their way… the more frustrated Clarke became. Clearly she wasn't incompetent and had a firm handle on most aspects of her life, but for some reason her romantic aspirations had turned into a complete disaster. Was that really all that was in store for her? Had she somehow agreed to a bustling café in exchange for an empty home? Professional success so long as she slept alone? The exchange with Lexa had left a bitter taste in her mouth, like it'd been a cosmic reminder her happiness would always be short-lived.

She kept busy to avoid blowing the lid off her anger, forcing smiles while she chatted with patrons, made coffee, and watched the mini marble cakes disappear one by one. There were so many reasons to be elated, but not even Finn's fall from grace could lift up her mood anymore. He'd get on with his life eventually - people like him always did.

Maybe Clarke had made a mistake with Niylah. She was sweet and charming in her own way. They got along great and were certainly compatible in bed. What they had was easy and uncomplicated - Clarke had never given herself a headache trying to figure out Niylah and Niylah had never chased after her only to run the opposite way. She was straightforward and easygoing; eager to share every aspect of her life Clarke might be curious about. Niylah was a Costialite through and through: honest, hardworking, and kindhearted. She didn't make her heart race or take up her thoughts, but she didn't make her feel like a tightly coiled spring either.

Which meant Niylah deserved better than her. She deserved someone who looked at her like she was the only person in the room. She deserved someone who wanted everything with her. Clarke knew it wasn't their sexual relationship she missed, but rather that period of time when she hadn’t cared as much about her loneliness. She missed the whirlwind of planning and opening the café, the breezy attitude that had carried her through so many problems.

One vision had changed it all, and Clarke couldn't say it was for the better.

* * *

Wells was already gone before closing time, the kitchen immaculate and the next day's ingredients already prepared. Clarke didn't know how he did it - as if he had ten hours more in the day than the rest of them. The last patrons trickled out until eventually there was no one and Gaia turned over the OPEN sign on the front door.

"Go home; I'll clean up," Clarke told her, putting her hair up while Gaia grabbed the broom from the back room.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, give Poppy a good cuddle for me."

Gaia took her coat and purse. "You should come over soon. Give her those cuddles yourself."

Clarke smiled tiredly. "I do miss those big ears."

Gaia had the sweetest beagle she took on long hikes every weekend. She'd been born with one ear much longer than the other, but her lopsided anatomy only added to her personality.

"You haven’t even seen my new place yet," Gaia pointed out.

She'd moved into her mother's second building a few months back, the one on the same street as Lexa's, which only reminded Clarke how poorly she'd neglected all her relationships. 

"One day soon I'll pop in with wine and a pizza and you won't be able to get rid of me," she promised.

Gaia smiled brightly as she shouldered her purse. "Holding you to that, boss."

"See you tomorrow," Clarke said as Gaia walked out.

Clarke dimmed the main lights, wiped the last few tables and put the chairs up. She straightened out the coffee mugs and cleaned the front of the display case, giving herself a few more minutes before she headed home. The rush hour traffic outside was slowing down, giving Clarke some needed quiet.

To hear their small bell ring as the door opened was more than a surprise. Clarke turned around and stilled, watching as Lexa pulled down her raincoat’s hood and looked at her across the room. Her hair was out of its braids, damp and frizzy.

Clarke felt her anger roar back to life and stoke the fire inside her. Her heart pounded, furious that Lexa had had such an effect on her mood today. But she wouldn't back down. She wouldn't look away until it was Lexa who was forced to do so.

"We're closed," she told her coldly. It was so unlike her to be so curt.

Lexa didn't move, didn't even open her mouth to attempt a reply. It was infuriating.

"What do you want?" Clarke asked harshly, echoing her question from this morning.

Lexa's eyes flashed with similar ardor and her jaw locked. Then, in four strides, she was in front of Clarke and kissing her.

Clarke felt her hands on her waist first, and then the heat of her mouth against her own. She gasped, fisted her hands in Lexa's collar and then unraveled. She kissed Lexa back with the force of her anger, pulling and pulling until Lexa had her pressed against the display case and her body flush against hers. Her tongue felt like silk when it brushed the tip of hers, when it took a risk and was rewarded. Her hands felt like embers, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched her, first on her waist and then lower, on her hips, until they became more dangerous and cupped her ass while she pressed tight against her. Desperate and possessive.

Clarke moaned loudly, overwhelmed by the sudden force of her desire. She needed Lexa to take her, to be inside her, to fulfill her incessant need for release. She couldn't imagine a second away from Lexa's lips, a second where Lexa didn't touch her.

“God, I thought of this,” she moaned between kisses, eyes closing when she felt Lexa's mouth down her neck. She smelled like the rain; felt like a storm.

“I think about you all the time...” Lexa breathed in her ear, almost like she hadn't meant to say it aloud.

Clarke pulled back, cupping Lexa's face to make sure she wasn't imagining this again. After a beat, their next kiss turned hungrier. Clarke wanted nothing more than to pull Lexa in the back room. She didn’t need romance or a bed. She needed Lexa’s fire to consume her and for the world to stop existing for just a moment. At the same time she was content staying there, pinned between glass and Lexa's body while they kissed into the night.

But her imagination was kinder than reality, as a car suddenly honked at another outside, startling Lexa. She ripped away from their embrace with wide eyes, stumbling back like she was dizzy, the reality of the situation catching up to her.

Clarke could read it all on her face: the surprise at her own actions, the realization of where they were and what they had almost done so publicly. She could've cried when Lexa suddenly looked like a deer in headlights.

It was the same expression from this morning. Clarke shook her head at her, begging her not to run. But a part of her knew it was futile - Lexa had already made up her mind. Still, she had to try one last time.

"It's okay."

Lexa's bottom lip trembled. "I shouldn't have done that. I thought I could, but-" She pressed her hands against her eyes in frustration. "I'm so sorry, Clarke."

Clarke's chest felt heavy. "Please don't go. Help me understand."

"I won't bother you again."

"That's not what I want," Clarke replied in frustration, stepping closer.

Lexa shook her head. "You don't want me."

"Why not?"

To Clarke, Lexa seemed broken. Like something in her had finally shattered.

"You started looking at me after your vision," Lexa whispered. "We never spoke until… until you had it. And I never realized it was you in mine until I saw you drawing."

"What does it matter?"

"You don't know me," Lexa told her, voice cracking. "If you did, your vision would never become true. You'd want nothing to do with me."

"Don't you dare put words in my mouth," Clarke snapped.

Lexa stopped short, so Clarke took a deep breath and stepped even closer.

"Lexa. I don't need to be protected. You're right, we don't know much about each other. So let me learn and let me make my own decisions afterward. Please. You can't pretend there's nothing between us - you can't."

"The visions-"

"I don't give a fuck about the visions," Clarke told her stubbornly. "Maybe it opened my eyes, but it didn't create feelings out of thin air. That's not possible."

Lexa still looked skittish, ready to bolt at any moment. Clarke reached out for her hand, relieved when Lexa took it. It was so different than the rooftop, where Lexa had grabbed hers so confidently. How could a person be so torn?

"Maybe you were right this morning," Clarke said softly. "We've skipped a lot of steps. So let's start over."

Lexa finally caught her eyes. "I hurt people, Clarke. I don't mean to, but inevitably it's what I do."

Clarke knew that was all she'd get out of Lexa tonight. Hesitantly, she cupped her cheek.

"How about this? If the rain lets up, I take you to the river this weekend. We bring some drinks, some snacks, maybe some hiking shoes. You can tell me about the Mountain Men and I can tell you about the weird resumes I'll inevitably get this week."

Lexa let out a chuckle, which made Clarke smile hopefully. "Doesn't sound too scary, does it?"

"No. That sounds nice."

Clarke felt hopeful for the first time. "Just two people hanging out, getting to know each other."

"I'd like that." Lexa glanced at her mouth and swallowed. "I do want you, Clarke."

Clarke pressed her index against her lips. "I know. Nobody kisses a friend like that. But…"

"Fresh start?"

"Right.” Clarke still had to speak her mind: “Lexa, you can't keep running away without telling me why. I'm patient but I'm not a saint. I get angry too. I get scared."

Lexa nodded quietly, looking down at their hands before she glanced around the room.

"You were closing up."

"Yeah, did you not notice the chairs on the tables?"

"I was preoccupied. Can I help?"

"Lexa… I think maybe you should go home."

Lexa looked down. "I'm sorry, I must be giving you whiplash."

"Just a little," Clarke smiled.

"I'll see you this weekend?"

"I didn't mean you can't swing by for a quick hello and a cup of coffee. Or not coffee. Wells is baking up a storm, it'd be a pity if you missed it."

"That sounds nice."

Clarke accompanied her to the door, where she noticed the rain had become heavier. It was incessant these days, washing down the streets of Costial and keeping the coffee shops and movie theaters busy. Nothing unusual for the season. She grabbed one of the forgotten umbrellas in the stand by the entrance, giving it to Lexa.

"That's alright-"

"Take it. I don't you want coming in sneezing and sniffling this week."

"Thank you, Clarke." Slowly, hesitantly, Lexa kissed her cheek. "Goodnight."

After Lexa walked out in the rain and turned the corner with one last glance over her shoulder, Clarke stood in the dark for a moment. Then, she walked to the back room and slid down the wall until she was sitting on the ground. She clutched her heart, eyes closing as she let the last few minutes rush over her. Whiplash didn't even begin to cover it.

In the resounding silence, she tried processing what had just happened. She could still feel Lexa's kiss, everything she had imagined and more. But then Lexa had pulled away. It felt like she was two different people, one aching with desire like Clarke, the other convinced it would hurt them both. But why?

Clarke thought back to when she had first noticed Lexa. Courteous, quiet Lexa who had placed her order and sat near the weeping fig tree for hours while she worked. What could have driven her to Costial? It couldn't be the job opportunities - she didn't work in theater and the Gazette was no more reputable than their neighboring cities' newspapers. Family was the obvious guess, but then why not come earlier? What kind of life had she left behind that still haunted her today?

Clarke wasn't sure she'd be able to shut up this weekend, too wrapped up in Lexa's mystery to keep herself from asking questions. She wanted to know everything but knew she had to be cautious. Still, spending time together was a step forward. She was relieved Lexa hadn't run after all, but it would be difficult to forget the pain in her eyes. Despite the uncertainty of their relationship, if it could even be defined, Clarke had a feeling it would be worth fighting for.

-

[part eight]

[missdawnandherdusk]

Tale As Old As Time

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One    Part Two    Part Three    Part Four    

Part Five    Part Six    Part Seven    Part Eight

Part Nine   Part Ten

Summary: The Yule Ball is finally here and maybe just once you get to be the princess in a fairy tale.

A/N: Guys, guys, this chapter IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND I’M ASDKJDADGAD anyway. Hello to those of you who are new! I love you all so much (and if anyone would like context or a visual for this chapter see Cinderella or ya know your favorite Disney princess dance sequence... there are so many) I love you all! Please let me know what you think! Also catch this on AO3 soon!!

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur​ @belcvayelena​ @moviesbooksandfandoms​ @howdycharlie​ @littlethingsinmymindla​

Christmas Eve and it seemed like the week had passed faster than the week before. Between finding a last-minute present—and a letter to Mrs. Weasley to see if a miracle could really happen—and wrapping the ones I already had, I was exhausted come Christmas Eve, so I did what I did every year: I read a book.

“So, do you have a dress for the Ball?” Hermione asked as we lounged in the Common Room watching the boys play chess.

“Yeah, my mother sent me one, it was the parcel I got the other morning,” I noted, my eyes not leaving my book—A Christmas Carol.

It was the evening before the Ball as well, and we were enjoying the buzz of the common room as Christmas approaching in the morning had everyone in a stupor. I had seen Draco at dinner, but Hermione stole me back for the evening, well, she tried.

Penelope swooped in and a letter landed in my lap.

“Oh, come on, I just got you back in here,” Hermione groaned. “Doesn’t he have his own party at Slytherin?”

“Maybe he’s invited her. I’ve heard so much about how good Slytherin parties are,” Ron looked up hopefully.

I smiled and rolled my eyes, breaking the seal and opening the letter. 

~

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower as soon as you can, dress warm. 

Draco

~

Three pairs of eyes were on me.

“I... have to go?” I offered sheepishly.

“A party?” Ron asked.

“No, just... never mind. It’s not a party.” I shrugged as I got up and stretched.

Grabbing my winter boots, scarf and fur lined jacket—that my mother also sent—I headed own the drafty halls and up to the Astronomy Tower.

“Draco?” I called as I reached the top step. He turned, a smile making its way to his face.

“Hey,” He helped me up the stair, taking my gloved hand in his. “These are new?” He mused, eyeing the black leather fur lined gloves.

“Mother sent them; someone must have told her that I was cold.” I gave him a side eyed look. He chuckled and pulled me close

“So, the ball is tomorrow,” He began

“Yes, that is how time works,” I mused. “I believe it is Christmas as well,”

“Yes, I haven’t forgotten,” He scoffed with a smile. “And I assume, since you weren’t... here growing up, I assume you have no idea how to dance,” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, and you do?” I scoffed.

“Yes,” He answered simply. “This isn’t my first Ball Y/n,”

“So, you’ve danced with other girls before?” I raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t as jealous as I let off, it was just fun to watch him scramble over something so simple.

“Yes,” He sounded strained.

I smiled and pulled him to the center of the walkway, pulling him close.

“Teach me then,” I took his hand and he pulled me close, into first position. “You’re right, I have never danced before,” I confessed.

“I know,” He mused. “This is going to be horrendous,”

A laugh escaped his lips and mine. I sighed and took his hand as his other rested on my waist and mine on his shoulder. Music came from somewhere, but I didn’t question it, I was too focused on not stumbling.

“It’s a pattern,” He told me. “One, two, three, four,” He instructed.

It took a few—hundred—tries, but Draco was persistent. Soon I was tripping over my own feet less and spinning around the Tower laughing as I danced almost flawlessly in sweatpants. Now only if I could do it in heels and a dress.

Draco pulled me in and be began to speed up the pace, leading me into new steps before his hands moved quickly and he easily dipped me.

“Draco!” I exclaimed and gripped for him as he righted me.

“Did you think I was going to let you fall?” He teased as our dance stilled, the two of us closer than ever.

“Haven’t you already?” I asked, my hands drifting to their familiar place around his neck.

“Have you fallen for me then, Miss Lupine?” He asked softly, the electric current growing stronger as the distance between us closed.

Staring into blue eyes, I felt the coolness of a river, and the gentle waves of the ocean, comforting me with their chill. An entire world laid behind them, one that I yearned to explore and know every part of.

“I think so,” I whispered the confession. “A Lupine and a Malfoy,” I scoffed softly. 

“What an idea,” He pondered. “To fall for someone like you,”

I smiled and pressed my lips softly to his, basking in his warmth. Now that we had stopped dancing, the winter air began to seep through my clothes. When I shivered, he pulled away and chuckled.

“You know, with all the spell and potions and charms out there, you would think there would be something to keep you warm,” Draco baited.

“I have you, don’t I?” “I suppose you do,”

Draco walked me back to the Gryffindor portrait in comfortable silence. Another fleeting goodnight kiss and I was far from being cold.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow then? Seven forty-five?”

“Are you sure about this Draco... your father and the Ball...” I looked down, still worried.

“Stop it Y/n,” He chided. “It will be fine. We’re safe here.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Now go get some rest.”

“Goodnight Draco,” I whispered. “And Merry Christmas,”

He eyed me and an amused smirk played at his lips.

“Happy Christmas,” I couldn’t tell if it was a correction or if he had meant it. “Goodnight Y/n,” 

Again, we exchanged a glance, three words unspoken between us: I love you. 

_____________________________

Draco woke early Christmas morning to Penelope fluttering annoyed at his side, cooing for attention. He had half the idea to shove her off the bed and go back to sleep, but you couldn’t really push a bird anywhere and expect it to stay away.

Groaning and sitting up, he saw that Penelope was sitting upon two parcels, and a letter accompanying each. It dawned on him that it was Christmas morning, not just any morning, and these must be from you.

Taking the one that had your letter attached—marked by your red wax seal—he opened the letter.

~

Merry Christmas Draco,

We had these sweets (we called them candy) in America, I had my mother send me some, and thought you might want to try them. Sour Patch Kids are my favorite, I’m not one for chocolate, but I did include some for you to try. If not, I’m sure Crabbe or Goyle wouldn’t mind having them.

Mother also sent all of my Latin books to you because you seemed interested in it the other night. Please be careful with them, they’re worth more than you can imagine, they belonged to my great great something grandfather. I will kill you if you ruin them. Though I suppose they are yours now... still.

And, from me... well, I got you a fountain pen. It was my grandfathers, a gift from a Muggle. I know, I know. But, it’s so small, and very useful. You use it like a quill and ink, but it doesn’t splotch or smear and dries instantly. I rewrite all of my class notes with a pen so that they’re neat, and I thought you might appreciate one as well. If you don’t want it, that’s fine too...

I hope you have a merry—happy Christmas morning. I await our dance tonight, 

Yours,

Y/n

P.S. I sent a letter to Mrs. Weasley as well and I do believe that she sent you one of her hand knitted sweaters, so don’t be surprised if you get one. It was me. Again, if you don’t want it... it’s okay. I know it’s a lot.

~

Draco tossed the letter aside and tore open the package that accompanied it. Inside, as you had said, was a few thick books, come colorful plastic wrapped candy, and a long black velvet box.

Taking the box, he discarded the lid and nestled inside was a sleek silver cylindrical object. Removing it, Draco stared at the small thing, wondering what use it had and how had Muggles ever used this when ink and quill worked just fine.

Pulling of the cap as he would an inkwell, a small golden tip greeted him, similar to the ends of his quills, but less fragile. Taking your letter, he leaned it against one of the books you have gifted to him and he wrote his name with the pen.

It glided easily across the page, leaving dark ink in its wake, spelling his name delicately. There was no need to dip it back into an inkwell, and running his finger over it, he discovered that it didn’t smear or stain his fingers.

As much as he wanted to hate it and dismiss it, claiming that nothing smart logical or good came from Muggles, he couldn’t. This pen was something else. It was useful. And he hated it. But he also loved that it was from you and that you had clearly spent a lot of time trying to figure out what would prove worth to him even though it was Muggle.

He set the pen back into the box and placed it on his desk. Having a good idea what was in the other package and who it was from, he begrudgingly opened the letter attached.

~

Mr. Draco

I was quite surprised when I got a letter from Miss Y/n asking for her to make this for you, but I couldn’t say no to her—she is quite persuasive and truly seems to care about you having a good Christmas this year and who was I to refuse?

Have a Happy Christmas Draco, because someone out there really cares for you. 

Mrs. Weasley

~

Dreading opening the package, knowing exactly what was inside, Draco opened the parcel and found an emerald green and grey striped knitted sweater. There was no sign of the god-awful initial of his first name. No, it was just a normal sweater, as if you knew what to ask for and what he would wear.

A smile touched his lips as he slipped the sweater over his head and picked up the book you sent: Wheelock’s Latin. Flipping through a few pages he could see you steady writing in notes littering the margins and little bookmarks placed in odd places to him.

The room around him started to come alive as the others around him awoke, and began to tear through their presents, but he remained on his bed in his own little bubble, leafing through the books and making his way through the American sweets you had sent—particularly enjoying something called Mike and Ikes.

Because of you, he had one of the best Christmas mornings that he had in a long while. He hoped that you were as well.

___________________________

The excitement of the morning had me awake earlier than normal and I saw that Hermione was already awake. Smiles spread across our faces as we wished another a Merry Christmas then began to open the presents that laid at the foot of our beds.

Hermione had gotten me a book—the same book that I had taken from Malfoy in the library— “so that you can have your own” she explained. Harry and Ron had joined together and gotten me a new set of inkwell and quill and a bound book of parchment in emerald and gold. Mrs. Weasley went above and beyond as normal with snacks and the usual sweater; this year it was a deep red with a forest green trim and gold accents. There was another set of graphite pencils and sketchbook from my mother and new diamond earrings from my grandparents.

On its own, on my bedside table was a small package in silk green wrapping and a letter with a matching green seal. My heart fluttered as I picked it up, knowing that it was from Draco. I hope that he had gotten what I had sent and that he had accepted it.

Opening the letter, it was short and unbearably sweet:

~

Dearest Y/n,

For you, to remind you that we are more than names and houses. 

Happy Christmas. I’ll see you tonight,

Yours,

Draco

~

Smiling I opened the small box and inside cushioned was a necklace. It held neither an emerald nor ruby, instead a sapphire, the color of the sea, the color of his eyes, the feeling of Animi Amoris. On a delicate silver chain and lain in a diamond encrusted heart the sapphire sat, smiling at me.

“Oh Draco,” I murmured softly.

“What he get you?” Hermione asked, grinning, coming over to my bed in her Weasley sweater.

I showed her the necklace, not letting it leave my hold.

“He really is a sap, isn’t he?” Hermione sighed

“Yeah, he is,” I smiled, putting the necklace on. “He’ll never admit it though.”

Harry and Ron met up with Hermione and me in the common room, and we went down to breakfast together. I didn’t catch sight of Draco at breakfast and I wondered where he was. Deciding not to fret too much I spent the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents—as I was, starting to sketch with my mother’s present.

Lunch was just as extravagant and featured so many turkeys I wondered exactly how long it had taken for them all to be cooked. I did see Draco at lunch, but other than a wave and a smile, there was no time for a proper hello in the fervor of the festivities, not that we didn’t try.

Time flew and soon Hermione and I were up in the Gryffindor Tower getting ready for the Ball. I had to help her with her hair and makeup, knowing a bit more in the area.

“He asked you out last night to teach you to dance?” She squeaked. “That is the cutest thing, I honestly don’t believe it,”

I rolled my eyes and pinned her hair into place.

“I think he’s been so worried about keeping up his reputation that he doesn’t know who to be, ya know? He doesn’t have the parents we do... or the friends. He’s just...” I trailed off.

“I understand, it’s just odd.” Hermione smiled.

“Yeah, but he’s still himself... just good.” I placed the final pin. “There, that should stay for the rest of... well forever.” I grinned. “No one will know it’s you Cinderella,” I teased.

“Oh, and who does that make you?

“Your fairy godmother of course,” I mocked a bow

“I’m pretty sure that makes you Belle and you’re living Beuaty and the Beast,” She pointed out mischievously.

I laughed and started to work on her makeup. She then helped me curl my hair and place it into a plaited bun. It was great fun. I teased her about Krum, and she teased me right back about Draco. We finally had time to sit and talk without anyone prying and without a deadline.

The time came and we both got into our dresses, doing finishing touches. Hermione held herself higher as we looked in the mirror, her periwinkle dress playing off of my crimson red one. Draco’s necklace hung at the hollow of my chest.

We both left the fray a bit early, I had to meet Draco and she had to meet Krum. Just as he had promised, Draco met me outside the Common Room, looking nervous and very handsome. His suit was well tailored, the stark black and white playing off another.

“Wow,” He breathed out, making me look down, blushing the color of my dress.

“My mother does have a dramatic flair, doesn’t she?” I asked, running my fingers through the layers of tulle and speckled diamonds that danced in the candlelight.

“I don’t think she has anything to do with how breathtaking you look right now,” Draco offered his hand.

I took it, taking careful graceful steps in the heels that my mother also sent me.

“You look quite handsome as well,” I complimented. “Quite a change from school uniforms is it not?”

“One that I rather enjoy,” He smiled as I held onto him, descending the stairs toward the Great Hall entrance.

Everyone in the hall stopped with the sight of us, gawking. A hush fell over the crowd as we entered the mass of students, all dressed for the occasion, all gaping—or glaring—at the two of us. I tried to not let it bother me, but I couldn’t quite let it go.

“People are staring,” I whispered.

“Y/n I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in a mirror, you are more than worth staring at.”

I looked down, suddenly very focused on not tripping. When the Great Hall doors were opened, I caught sight of Harry and Ron with their dates, the Patil twins, and gave him a small wave as we were ushered out into the lawn.

It was captivating, the sight of it all. I leaned against Draco, marveling at the fairy lights and enchantment of it all. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

“Like a fairy tale,” I whispered, letting my eyes wander.

“Shall we then,” Draco asked, leading me to one of the front tables where my—our friends were sitting.

“If he’s the Slytherin Prince then no doubt tonight you’re the Gryffindor Princess,” Fred muttered in my ear.

I let out a small laugh and looked to Draco, who raised an eyebrow in question, but I shrugged and shook my head, taking his hand in mine. With the Triwizard champions having sat and Dumbledore beginning the feast, the Hall was filled with talking and laughter and merriment.

It was comforting, watching it all. Draco fit in with the crowed around us and Hermione and Viktor were having what seemed like the best time at one of the head tables. I was happy for her; she finally was seen on the outside who she was on the inside.

Dinner had come and passed and with a wave of his wand, Dumbledore transformed the Great Hall into a dance floor. Anxiety fluttered in my chest at the thought that I would have to dance in front of people soon.

“I can hear you worrying,” Draco murmured softly, as he stood behind me his hands at my waist.

“I have to dance,” I fretted. “I’m going barefoot, I hope you know that,”

He chuckled and nodded, whether in acknowledgement or permission, I wasn’t sure. Soon other couples began to join the champions. I broke from Draco’s hold and discarded my heels under a nearby table. When I went back, I couldn’t find Draco. My eyes scanned the crowd until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Relaxing I turned and saw gentle blue eyes.

“May I have this dance?” Draco bowed slightly, offering his hand out again.

“You may,” I grinned and took it as he led me to the dance floor.

“I won’t let you fall,” He promised in a soft voice as we fell into a familiar pattern, learned only the night before.

The world faded around us as he guided me on the dance floor. My eyes never left his and a smile never left either of our faces. It was our own little world as we waltzed across the floor.

The moment held another sort of magic, one where we didn’t have to do anything but fall into step with another and dance upon the notes left by the music around us.

“Ready?” He whispered and I nodded.

Gently, as the music ended, he dipped me, father than before, but I wasn’t afraid. 

He wasn’t going to let me fall.

.

.

Part 12?

[aboveallarescuer]

Dany and Missandei’s relationship

This is a list of all the passages from the books featuring key moments in Dany and Missandei’s relationship.

Here is what some casual fans think of their relationship:

She has consistently appeared to forget about the people she’s conquered beyond their capacity to serve and obey her. And sure, Missandei is her best friend, but she’s essentially a token on Game of Thrones, meant to be a stand-in for the Unsullied as a whole, a relationship that convinces us Dany loves her people. But this doesn’t really align with the way Dany has treated all those other Unsullied.

All of this means that when we see Dany freaking out while Missandei dies, it rings more than a little hollow; Dany’s best friend may be a person of color, but that doesn’t make her less problematic as a white savior. (x)

I would argue that the books (and heck, the show as well!!!) tell a very different story.

A Dance with Dragons

ADWD Daenerys X

Jhiqui and Irri would be waiting atop her pyramid back in Meereen, she told herself. Her sweet scribe Missandei as well, and all her little pages. They would bring her food, and she could bathe in the pool beneath the persimmon tree. It would be good to feel clean again. Dany did not need a glass to know that she was filthy.

~

As the world darkened, Dany settled in and closed her eyes, but sleep refused to come. The night was cold, the ground hard, her belly empty. She found herself thinking of Meereen, of Daario, her love, and Hizdahr, her husband, of Irri and Jhiqui and sweet Missandei, Ser Barristan and Reznak and Skahaz Shavepate. Do they fear me dead? I flew off on a dragon’s back. Will they think he ate me?

ADWD Daenerys IX

“Even if the pits must open, must Your Grace go yourself?” asked Missandei as she was washing the queen’s hair.

“Half of Meereen will be there to see me, gentle heart.”

“Your Grace,” said Missandei, “this one begs leave to say that half of Meereen will be there to watch men bleed and die.”

She is not wrong, the queen knew, but it makes no matter.

~

As Jhiqui brushed Dany’s hair and Irri painted the queen’s nails, they chattered happily about the day’s matches. Missandei reemerged. “Your Grace. The king bids you join him when you are dressed. And Prince Quentyn has come with his Dornish Men. They beg a word, if that should please you.”

Little about this day shall please me. “Some other day.”

ADWD Daenerys VIII

“My queen?” said a soft voice in the darkness.

Dany flinched. “Who is there?”

“Only Missandei.” The Naathi scribe moved closer to the bed. “This one heard you crying.”

“Crying? I was not crying. Why would I cry? I have my peace, I have my king, I have everything a queen might wish for. You had a bad dream, that was all.”

“As you say, Your Grace.” She bowed and made to go.

“Stay,” said Dany. “I do not wish to be alone.”

“His Grace is with you,” Missandei pointed out.

“His Grace is dreaming, but I cannot sleep. On the morrow I must bathe in blood. The price of peace.” She smiled wanly and patted the bed. “Come. Sit. Talk with me.”

“If it please you.” Missandei sat down beside her. “What shall we talk of?”

“Home,” said Dany. “Naath. Butterflies and brothers. Tell me of the things that make you happy, the things that make you giggle, all your sweetest memories. Remind me that there is still good in the world.”

Missandei did her best. She was still talking when Dany finally fell to sleep, to dream queer, half-formed dreams of smoke and fire.

The morning came too soon.

ADWD Daenerys VII

Dany sat amongst the rumpled bedclothes with her arms about her knees, so forlorn that she did not hear when Missandei came creeping in with bread and milk and figs. “Your Grace? Are you unwell? In the black of night this one heard you scream.”

Dany took a fig. It was black and plump, still moist with dew. Will Hizdahr ever make me scream? “It was the wind that you heard screaming.” She took a bite, but the fruit had lost its savor now that Daario was gone.

~

When he was gone, Missandei brought the queen a simple meal of goat cheese and olives, with raisins for a sweet. “Your Grace needs more than wine to break her fast. You are such a tiny thing, and you will surely need your strength today.”

That made Daenerys laugh, coming from a girl so small. She relied so much on the little scribe that she oft forgot that Missandei had only turned eleven. They shared the food together on her terrace. As Dany nibbled on an olive, the Naathi girl gazed at her with eyes like molten gold and said, “It is not too late to tell them that you have decided not to wed.”

It is, though, the queen thought, sadly. “Hizdahr’s blood is ancient and noble. Our joining will join my freedmen to his people. When we become as one, so will our city.”

“Your Grace does not love the noble Hizdahr. This one thinks you would sooner have another for your husband.”

I must not think of Daario today. “A queen loves where she must, not where she will.” Her appetite had left her. “Take this food away,” she told Missandei. “It is time I bathed.”

~

Missandei reemerged from inside the pyramid. “Reznak and Skahaz beg the honor of escorting Your Grace to the Temple of the Graces. Reznak has ordered your palanquin made ready.”

Meereenese seldom rode within their city walls. They preferred palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs, borne upon the shoulders of their slaves. “Horses befoul the streets,” one man of Zakh had told her, “slaves do not.” Dany had freed the slaves, yet palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs still choked the streets as before, and none of them floated magically through the air.

“The day is too hot to be shut up in a palanquin,” said Dany. “Have my silver saddled. I would not go to my lord husband upon the backs of bearers.”

“Your Grace,” said Missandei, “this one is so sorry, but you cannot ride in a tokar.”

The little scribe was right, as she so often was. The tokar was not a garment meant for horseback. Dany made a face. “As you say. Not the palanquin, though. I would suffocate behind those drapes. Have them ready a sedan chair.” If she must wear her floppy ears, let all the rabbits see her.

ADWD Daenerys VI

When Daenerys returned to her pyramid, sore of limb and sick of heart, she found Missandei reading some old scroll whilst Irri and Jhiqui argued about Rakharo.

~

A cool wind was blowing on her terrace. Dany sighed with pleasure as she slipped into the waters of her pool. At her command, Missandei stripped off her clothes and climbed in after her. “This one heard the Astapori scratching at the walls last night,” the little scribe said as she was washing Dany’s back.

Irri and Jhiqui exchanged a look. “No one was scratching,” said Jhiqui. “Scratching … how could they scratch?”

“With their hands,” said Missandei. “The bricks are old and crumbling. They are trying to claw their way into the city.”

“This would take them many years,” said Irri. “The walls are very thick. This is known.”

“It is known,” agreed Jhiqui.

“I dream of them as well.” Dany took Missandei’s hand. “The camp is a good half-mile from the city, my sweetling. No one was scratching at the walls.”

“Your Grace knows best,” said Missandei. “Shall I wash your hair? It is almost time. Reznak mo Reznak and the Green Grace are coming to discuss—”

“—the wedding preparations.” Dany sat up with a splash. “I had almost forgotten.” Perhaps I wanted to forget.

~

Daario’s announcement had sparked an uproar. Reznak was wailing, the Shavepate was muttering darkly, her bloodriders were swearing vengeance. Strong Belwas thumped his scarred belly with his fist and swore to eat Brown Ben’s heart with plums and onions. “Please,” Dany said, but only Missandei seemed to hear. The queen got to her feet. “Be quiet! I have heard enough.”

ADWD Daenerys V

She would have kissed her good knight on the cheek, but just then Missandei appeared beneath the arched doorway. “Missandei?”

“Your Grace. Skahaz awaits your pleasure.”

“Send him up.”

ADWD Daenerys IV

The queen welcomed them warmly, then summoned Missandei to see that the girls were fed and entertained whilst she shared a private supper with the Green Grace.

~

… but Daenerys Targaryen had other children, tens of thousands who had hailed her as their mother when she broke their chains. She thought of Stalwart Shield, of Missandei’s brother, of the woman Rylona Rhee, who had played the harp so beautifully. No marriage would ever bring them back to life, but if a husband could help end the slaughter, then she owed it to her dead to marry.

~

How could I ever hope to sleep, knowing that my captain so close? “Send him up at once. And … I will have no more need of you this evening. I shall be safe with Daario. Oh, and send Irri and Jhiqui, if you would be so good. And Missandei.” I need to change, to make myself beautiful.

She said as much to her handmaids when they came. “What does Your Grace wish to wear?” asked Missandei.

Starlight and seafoam, Dany thought, a wisp of silk that leaves my left breast bare for Daario’s delight. Oh, and flowers for my hair.

 ADWD Daenerys III

“Wherever the Mother of Dragons goes, the Mother’s Men will go as well,” announced Marselen, Missandei’s remaining brother.

ADWD Daenerys II

She could hear the soft sounds of sobs. “Who is that weeping?”

“Your slave Missandei.” Jhiqui had a taper in her hand.

“My servant. I have no slaves.” Dany did not understand. “Why does she weep?”

“For him who was her brother,” Irri told her. The rest she had from Skahaz, Reznak, and Grey Worm, when they were ushered into her presence. Dany knew their tidings were bad before a word was spoken. One glance at the Shavepate’s ugly face sufficed to tell her that.

~

“Your servants were set upon as they walked the bricks of Meereen to keep Your Grace’s peace. All were well armed, with spears and shields and short swords. Two by two they walked, and two by two they died. Your servants Black Fist and Cetherys were slain by crossbow bolts in Mazdhan’s Maze. Your servants Mossador and Duran were crushed by falling stones beneath the river wall. Your servants Eladon Goldenhair and Loyal Spear were poisoned at a wineshop where they were accustomed to stop each night upon their rounds.”

Mossador. Dany made a fist. Missandei and her brothers had been taken from their home on Naath by raiders from the Basilisk Isles and sold into slavery in Astapor. Young as she was, Missandei had shown such a gift for tongues that the Good Masters had made a scribe of her. Mossador and Marselen had not been so fortunate. They had been gelded and made into Unsullied.

~

When she returned to her rooms atop the pyramid, she found Missandei crying softly on her pallet, trying as best she could to muffle the sound of her sobs. “Come sleep with me,” she told the little scribe. “Dawn will not come for hours yet.”

“Your Grace is kind to this one.” Missandei slipped under the sheets. “He was a good brother.”

Dany wrapped her arms about the girl. “Tell me of him.”

“He taught me how to climb a tree when we were little. He could catch fish with his hands. Once I found him sleeping in our garden with a hundred butterflies crawling over him. He looked so beautiful that morning, this one … I mean, I loved him.”

“As he loved you.” Dany stroked the girl’s hair. “Say the word, my sweet, and I will send you from this awful place. I will find a ship somehow and send you home. To Naath.”

“I would sooner stay with you. On Naath I’d be afraid. What if the slavers came again? I feel safe when I’m with you.”

Safe. The word made Dany’s eyes fill up with tears. “I want to keep you safe.” Missandei was only a child. With her, she felt as if she could be a child too. “No one ever kept me safe when I was little. Well, Ser Willem did, but then he died, and Viserys … I want to protect you but … it is so hard. To be strong. I don’t always know what I should do. I must know, though. I am all they have. I am the queen … the … the …”

“… mother,” whispered Missandei.

“Mother to dragons.” Dany shivered.

“No. Mother to us all.” Missandei hugged her tighter. “Your Grace should sleep. Dawn will be here soon, and court.”

“We’ll both sleep, and dream of sweeter days. Close your eyes.” When she did, Dany kissed her eyelids and made her giggle.

~

A soft rustle made her open them again. She sat up with a soft splash. “Missandei?” she called. “Irri? Jhiqui?”

~

“Your Grace?” Missandei stood in the door of the queen’s bedchamber, a lantern in her hand. “Who are you talking to?”

Dany glanced back toward the persimmon tree. There was no woman there. No hooded robe, no lacquer mask, no Quaithe.

A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once. “I was praying,” she told the Naathi girl. “It will be light soon. I had best eat something, before court.”

~

Missandei returned with a melon and a bowl of hard-cooked eggs, but Dany found she had no appetite.

~

It was blood the Meereenese yearned to see, not skill. Elsewise the fighting slaves would have worn armor. Only the little scribe Missandei seemed to share the queen’s misgivings.

ADWD Daenerys I

“Your Grace,” said Ser Barristan Selmy, the lord commander of her Queensguard, “there is no need for you to see this.”

“He died for me.” Dany clutched her lion pelt to her chest. Underneath, a sheer white linen tunic covered her to midthigh. She had been dreaming of a house with a red door when Missandei woke her. There had been no time to dress.

~

The Undying of Qarth had told her she would be thrice betrayed. Mirri Maz Duur had been the first, Ser Jorah the second. Would Reznak be the third? The Shavepate? Daario? Or will it be someone I would never suspect, Ser Barristan or Grey Worm or Missandei?

~

Missandei announced her. The little scribe had a sweet, strong voice. “All kneel for Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Khaleesi of Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Shackles, and Mother of Dragons.”

A Storm of Swords

ASOS Daenerys VI

“I must remember to do something about the flies,” Dany said. “Are there many flies on Naath, Missandei?”

“On Naath there are butterflies,” the scribe responded in the Common Tongue. “More wine?”

“No. I must hold court soon.” Dany had grown very fond of Missandei. The little scribe with the big golden eyes was wise beyond her years. She is brave as well. She had to be, to survive the life she’s lived. One day she hoped to see this fabled isle of Naath. Missandei said the Peaceful People made music instead of war. They did not kill, not even animals; they ate only fruit and never flesh. The butterfly spirits sacred to their Lord of Harmony protected their isle against those who would do them harm. Many conquerors had sailed on Naath to blood their swords, only to sicken and die. The butterflies do not help them when the slave ships come raiding, though. “I am going to take you home one day, Missandei,” Dany promised. If I had made the same promise to Jorah, would he still have sold me? “I swear it.”

“This one is content to stay with you, Your Grace. Naath will be there, always. You are good to this—to me.”

“And you to me.” Dany took the girl by the hand. “Come help me dress.”

~

Daario and Ben Plumm, Grey Worm, Irri, Jhiqui, Missandei ... as she looked at them Dany found herself wondering which of them would betray her next.

~

“Your Grace,” said Missandei, “Ghiscari inter their honored dead in crypts below their manses. If you would boil the bones clean and return them to their kin, it would be a kindness.”

The widows will curse me all the same. “Let it be done.”

~

“Noble Ghael,” said Missandei, in the dialect of Astapor, “is this the same Cleon once owned by Grazdan mo Ullhor?”

Her voice was guileless, yet the question plainly made the envoy anxious. “The same,” he admitted. “A great man.”

Missandei leaned close to Dany. “He was a butcher in Grazdan’s kitchen,” the girl whispered in her ear. “It was said he could slaughter a pig faster than any man in Astapor.”

I have given Astapor a butcher king. Dany felt ill, but she knew she must not let the envoy see it.

~

“...To prove his faith, Great Cleon offers to seal your alliance with a marriage.”

“A marriage? To me?”

Ghael smiled. His teeth were brown and rotten. “Great Cleon will give you many strong sons.”

Dany found herself bereft of words, but little Missandei came to her rescue. “Did his first wife give him sons?”

~

“Any man who wishes to sell himself into slavery may do so. Or woman.” She raised a hand. “But they may not sell their children, nor a man his wife.”

“In Astapor the city took a tenth part of the price, each time a slave changed hands,” Missandei told her.

“We’ll do the same,” Dany decided. Wars were won with gold as much as swords.

~

“Your Grace?” Missandei stood at her elbow wrapped in a bedrobe, wooden sandals on her feet. “I woke, and saw that you were gone. Did you sleep well? What are you looking at?”

“My city,” said Dany. “I was looking for a house with a red door, but by night all the doors are black.”

“A red door?” Missandei was puzzled. “What house is this?”

“No house. It does not matter.” Dany took the younger girl by the hand. “Never lie to me, Missandei. Never betray me.”

“I never would,” Missandei promised. “Look, dawn comes.”

[...] Dany held Missandei’s hand as they watched the sun come up.

~

“There is nothing to stay for,” said Brown Ben Plumm.

“Your Grace, the slavers brought their doom on themselves,” said Daario Naharis.

“You have brought freedom as well,” Missandei pointed out.

“Freedom to starve?” asked Dany sharply. “Freedom to die? Am I a dragon, or a harpy?” Am I mad? Do I have the taint?

ASOS Daenerys V

“Strong Belwas is hurt.” His stomach was red with the blood sheeting down from the meaty gash beneath his breasts.

“It is nothing. I let each man cut me once, before I kill him.” He slapped his bloody belly. “Count the cuts and you will know how many Strong Belwas has slain.”

But Dany had lost Khal Drogo to a similar wound, and she was not willing to let it go untreated. She sent Missandei to find a certain Yunkish freedman renowned for his skill in the healing arts.

~

“Missandei,” she called, “have my silver saddled. Your own mount as well.”

The little scribe bowed. “As Your Grace commands. Shall I summon your bloodriders to guard you?”

“We’ll take Arstan. I do not mean to leave the camps.”

~

Dany had stopped to speak to a pregnant woman who wanted the Mother of Dragons to name her baby when someone reached up and grabbed her left wrist. Turning, she glimpsed a tall ragged man with a shaved head and a sunburnt face. “Not so hard,” she started to say, but before she could finish he’d yanked her bodily from the saddle. The ground came up and knocked the breath from her, as her silver whinnied and backed away. Stunned, Dany rolled to her side and pushed herself onto one elbow ...

... and then she saw the sword.

“There’s the treacherous sow,” he said. “I knew you’d come to get your feet kissed one day.” His head was bald as a melon, his nose red and peeling, but she knew that voice and those pale green eyes. “I’m going to start by cutting off your teats.” Dany was dimly aware of Missandei shouting for help.

~

Missandei was pulling Dany to her feet when she heard a crack.

ASOS Daenerys IV

Irri and Jhiqui had covered the floor with carpets while Missandei lit a stick of incense to sweeten the dusty air.

~

“Missandei, what language will these Yunkai’i speak, Valyrian?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the child said. “A different dialect than Astapor’s, yet close enough to understand. The slavers name themselves the Wise Masters.”

“Wise?” Dany sat crosslegged on a cushion, and Viserion spread his white-and-gold wings and flapped to her side. “We shall see how wise they are,” she said as she scratched the dragon’s scaly head behind the horns.

~

The hours crept by on turtle feet. Even after Jhiqui rubbed the knots from her shoulders, Dany was too restless for sleep. Missandei offered to sing her a lullaby of the Peaceful People, but Dany shook her head.

~

On the morning of the third day, the city gates swung open and a line of slaves began to emerge. Dany mounted her silver to greet them. As they passed, little Missandei told them that they owed their freedom to Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros and Mother of Dragons.

“Mhysa!” a brown-skinned man shouted out at her. He had a child on his shoulder, a little girl, and she screamed the same word in her thin voice. “Mhysa! Mhysa!”

Dany looked at Missandei. “What are they shouting?”

“It is Ghiscari, the old pure tongue. It means ‘Mother.’”

Dany felt a lightness in her chest.

ASOS Daenerys III

“All?” The slave girl sounded wary. “Your Grace, did this one’s worthless ears mishear you?”

[...] “Your ears heard true,” said Dany. “I want to buy them all. Tell the Good Masters, if you will.”

~

“The Unsullied will learn your savage tongue quick enough,” added Kraznys mo Nakloz, when all the arrangements had been made, “but until such time you will need a slave to speak to them. Take this one as our gift to you, a token of a bargain well struck.”

“I shall,” said Dany.

The slave girl rendered his words to her, and hers to him. If she had feelings about being given for a token, she took care not to let them show.

~

Dany turned away from him, to the slave girl standing meekly beside her litter. “Do you have a name, or must you draw a new one every day from some barrel?”

“That is only for Unsullied,” the girl said. Then she realized the question had been asked in High Valyrian. Her eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“Your name is Oh?”


“No. Your Grace, forgive this one her outburst. Your slave’s name is Missandei, but ...”

“Missandei is no longer a slave. I free you, from this instant. Come ride with me in the litter, I wish to talk.” Rakharo helped them in, and Dany drew the curtains shut against the dust and heat. “If you stay with me you will serve as one of my handmaids,” she said as they set off. “I shall keep you by my side to speak for me as you spoke for Kraznys. But you may leave my service whenever you choose, if you have father or mother you would sooner return to.”

“This one will stay,” the girl said. “This one ... I ... there is no place for me to go. This ... I will serve you, gladly.”

“I can give you freedom, but not safety,” Dany warned. “I have a world to cross and wars to fight. You may go hungry. You may grow sick. You may be killed.”

“Valar morghulis,” said Missandei, in High Valyrian.


“All men must die,” Dany agreed, “but not for a long while, we may pray.” She leaned back on the pillows and took the girl’s hand. “Are these Unsullied truly fearless?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“You serve me now. Is it true they feel no pain?”

“The wine of courage kills such feelings. By the time they slay their sucklings, they have been drinking it for years.”

“And they are obedient?”

“Obedience is all they know. If you told them not to breathe, they would find that easier than not to obey.”

Dany nodded. “And when I am done with them?”

“Your Grace?”

“When I have won my war and claimed the throne that was my father’s, my knights will sheathe their swords and return to their keeps, to their wives and children and
mothers ... to their lives. But these eunuchs have no lives. What am I to do with eight thousand eunuchs when there are no more battles to be fought?”

“The Unsullied make fine guards and excellent watchmen, Your Grace,” said Missandei. “And it is never hard to find a buyer for such fine well-blooded troops.”

“Men are not bought and sold in Westeros, they tell me.”

“With all respect, Your Grace, Unsullied are not men.”

“If I did resell them, how would I know they could not be used against me?” Dany asked pointedly. “Would they do that? Fight against me, even do me harm?”

“If their master commanded. They do not question, Your Grace. All the questions have been culled from them. They obey.” She looked troubled. “When you are ... when you are done with them ... your Grace might command them to fall upon their swords.”

“And even that, they would do?”


“Yes.” Missandei’s voice had grown soft. “Your Grace.”

Dany squeezed her hand. “You would sooner I did not ask it of them, though. Why is that? Why do you care?”

“This one does not ... I ... Your Grace ... ”


“Tell me.”


The girl lowered her eyes. “Three of them were my brothers once, Your Grace.”

Then I hope your brothers are as brave and clever as you.

ASOS Daenerys II

“The Good Master Kraznys asks, are they not magnificent?” The girl spoke the Common Tongue well, for one who had never been to Westeros. No older than ten, she had the round flat face, dusky skin, and golden eyes of Naath. The Peaceful People, her folk were called. All agreed that they made the best slaves.

[kariachi]

This is it y’all, a day literal months in the coming- here and now I shall liveblog Dragon’s Kin, by Anne and Todd McCaffrey. By which I mean I will read Dragon’s Kin and take note of anything interesting, valuable, or just that comes to my mind. I have never read this book, it’s still in the plastic packaging it came in, I have never read a Todd book.

We’ll see if I survive.

Before I even open the damn thing, I am looking at the image of the McCaffreys on the back and let me say they look like they should be villains in a comedy western.

A Pass brings with it increased earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic activity, due to the whole ‘other celestial body coming in hot’ thing. Which actually makes a lot of sense, certainly more than anything else relating to Threadfall. (“charred bone” is this a fungus or a wildfire)

“Under the leadership of the Lord Holders and Weyrleaders-” *screams into aether*

It took until 16 years prior to the 3rd Pass for the Northern Continent to run out of surface coal and have to start actually digging for the shit

Everybody: Whers? Bah, not much to them, not good for much. Journeyman Miner Natalon: But consider, they might be awesome MasterMiner Britell: Hmmm, I’m keeping an eye on this one...

Chapter 1: “In early morning light I see: A distant dragon come to me”

We meet our main character, Kindan. His sister is getting married, good for her. Shame about the plot that’s going to happen later.

Having a watchwher gets you private housing. Also aw, the wher took their name from Kindan’s father that’s so sweet.

This just in, two boys can’t hang with dragons, settle instead for the simple pleasure of watchwher washing

Zenor: Dragons look like they’re soft, not like watchwhers Kindan: Bitch-

So our biggest asshole so far is a Tarik and honestly I’d be sending him back to the Hall with a nice long report of exactly how much of a fuckwit he is. And I’ve only known him a few pages.

And we meet the other major character- Nuella- who is apparently Somebody though who we have no idea

Oh gods Kindan’s mother is dead, his sister is marrying and leaving, and his father and Dask’s fates are in the fucking summary. Boy is about to have a time.

He has brothers! Well thank fuck.

Whers have external ears

Also I have only known Dask for two paragraphs but I love him

“Then Dask gave a little happy chirp, flapped his wings once, and vanished.” Whers can between, alone and from the ground. Apparently Dask does it all the time go he can avoid the lights from the camp.

Dask is brown, I was figuring but nice to know

Kindan, assuming dragons are harder to wash because they’re fucking massive and need oiling and shit (whers, the dragonkin for the common working fucker)

Chapter 2: “It’s skin is bronze, it’s eyes are green; It’s the loveliest dragon I’ve ever seen”

Damn Kindan’s family is a mess, his brothers are all dicks, his sisters are supposeldy dicks but we haven’t seen them, and the only decent fuckers are leaving or dying

Kindan’s Sister: Kaylek, my brother who loves to sing but couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, you shall sing at my wedding Master Harper: Over my dead body he will!

Kindan’s siblings may be shit, but he’ll be damned if he allows them to talked bad about by some non-relative and he’s stubborn as a wher himself about it

Am I reading a fucking fairytale film? The new Harper is a dick until he realises ‘oh wait, this kid isn’t complete shit, I shouldn’t have said the seriously horrible things I did’

(Seriously “to think your mother died giving birth to you”, I want Dask to eat him too)

Well it’s nice to see that the ‘whers fly at night because the air is thicker’ thing is only speculation by people with no fucking teachings with regard to that shit. At least so far.

Kindan really just went on a paragraph long internal monologue about the value of miners to the function and survival of Pern and for all he doesn’t in his heart want to be one I kinda want to see him grow into it now. Stories of stepping away from what’s expected of you and forging your own path are great (I’ve been writing some) but stories of falling in love with what before looked like something to be avoided can also be nice.

And now we get a two paragraph internal monologue about how awesome whers are. Best miners ever.

“Traditionally, the marriage ceremony was performed in the morning, timed so that as the couple completed their marriage vows, the sun would rise, signifying the warmth of the new relationship and how it would lighten not only the bride and groom but also all those associated with them.” Awwww!!!!

“However, such a ceremony would mean Dask could not attend. So Jofri had come up with the idea of performing the ceremony with the setting sun, instead, and lighting a bonfire as the final vows were made.” Awwwwwww!!!!!!!

For all the shit you hear and see relating to whers in earlier and later periods (that they’re ugly, and disliked, and kept chained up)  it’s so nice to see Dask truly be part of the family, so much so that they changed the fucking wedding to accommodate him. I want this to be the tradition of handler families now. And then we have to remember that one of the other handlers for the camp straight up fucking left because Tarik was being a dick to his wher and he wasn’t having it. Yes, give me wher love.

Oh my gods Dask flying about with a glow in his claws to act as a spotlight as his handler’s daughter walks down the aisle this is so sweet!

And he’s singing along to the music!

He’s doing the groom too! Dask is a gift!

“For now that these two are one, we are all more,“ Master Zist intoned. He placed Silstra’s hand in Terregar’s and kissed each lightly on the cheek. “To Terregar and Silstra!”

The crowd stood up and roared back: “To Terregar and Silstra!”

“Long life and happiness!” Master Zist intoned.

“Long life and happiness!” the crowd roared back.

Kindan and Nuella officially meet.

Nuella, taking advantage of Kindan not wanting to get given chores on this the night of his sister’s wedding and her own presumed misbehavior to get him to keep her well away from any authority.

Nuella is sheltered as fuck, she hasn’t even seen a mashed potato before

Ah, she’s the twin of the big boss’s son. Don’t know why she’s being so fucking hidden I mean good fuck, but, at least we know who she is.

Aw, Zenor is her bestfriend. Not that she has many options but still

Seven fucking brothers! And an unknown number of sisters! No wonder their mother died having the last one, she birthed at least nine surviving children! Do you know how many she’d have had to have to get those numbers? Was she born pregnant, wtf?

Chapter 3: “Watch-wher, whatch-wher in the night; Guard our Hold, keep it right; When the morning sun does come; Watch-wher, then you job is done”

Aw, Kindan’s relationship with the his brothers is healing

Also Zist is a fucking taskmaster. He gets results but damn, man, chill.

The big boss’s son is apparently a sickly child

Dask has been in A Mood which is a never a good sign when you’re talking about your security critter

Miners’ children all just ‘it’s too quiet, something is wrong’ like they’re fucking birds. Not that they’re wrong, mind, but still

Welp, bad air was released and sparked before Dask could warn the miners (I assume a pocket got opened as somebody else struck some stone) and now we’ve got a cave-in. Dask got out and is now killing himself trying to rescue the miners.

Damn his father and his brothers in one day. And Dask fucking dying in his arms after managing to save the survivors despite bleeding out with his handler dead (which, even if whers can outlive their handlers he had to have felt, he’s dragonkin he’d have noticed the bond breaking, he was doing this despite knowing that he wouldn’t find Danil alive on the other side. Was he this dedicated to his work, was he hoping to save Danil’s boys, we’ll never know).

Pour one out for Danil, who did his damnedest to take care of his children, and for Dask, who was too damn good for us.

Zenor survived, but his father is also dead. He and Kaylek saved the poor boy’s life in exchange for their own. Gods the last thoughts that must’ve been going through that man’s head, as he realized that the mine was collapsing and he had brought his son in with him despite him not being near old enough...

Seriously y’all I’m crying

Chapter 4: “I am too big to cry; And my voice is too shy; To sing my sad, sad song; Or say the words I long; To say to you- good-bye, good-bye.”

The book says Kindan is the youngest of nine. It also says he has seven brothers and plural sisters. And the sisters at least lasted long enough to give him shit growing up. The book lies to me.

Okay so, Kindan’s got two siblings remaining- Jakris and Tofir- one of whom has been fostered to I think a sister of theirs? Kindan doesn’t note who ‘Terra and her husband’ are otherwise so I assume it’s another older sister and another of which has been fostered to Crom Hold where he’ll be learning art and maybe someday mapmaking. Kindan is still in the camp.

Zenor wants to take over his dad’s role of miner like boy you are ten stop

Ah, Kindan wants to stay.

If somebody would light Tarik on fire please? Especially given that he’s sitting here claiming the mining will be better without them when it’s already been stated that the shift with a wher gets more ore out of the ground per shift than the the others because the wher itself is a fantastic digger.

Zist: We need someone to raise Kindan Natalon: So good of you to volunteer Zist: o.o

Nobody likes Tarik, good, send the man back to Crom, let them deal with his ass.

And more confirmation that Kindan has sisters, I really need this book to make up it’s mind

Nuella is upset she’ll have to avoid the Harper’s cottage with Kindan living in it

Zist: If I’m going to raise this child then damnit I’m making him a harper

We’re getting much character stuff but not much actually interesting

Chimney got clogged at the big boss’s house, Kindan managed to save the lot by coming by and noticing, the existence of Nuella is now known to him.

Kindan can keep a secret, he is taking  to harpering well

Mine’s having a lot of minor accidents

And now big boss’s wife’s baby is coming early, these fuckers just cannot catch a break

Nuella and her brother switching places back and forth so she can be involved in shit. Also she has some mind for healing

Zist had a daughter at one point- Carissa. Nice name

Also the baby is fine, a month early but fine. She doesn’t have a name yet, I will keep y’all updated

Chapter 5: “A baby’s cry, a mother’s sigh; Sweet things make a day go by”

Zist, having Kindan run around the camp telling adults what they need to do: It’ll be an interesting challenge for you Kindan, Telling the big boss that Zist offered to do his administrative work: He said it would be an interesting challenge for him

Oh shit Nuella is blind! Honestly, fucking slow clap for not making a big deal of it so far

The Traders have women of rank. I know this is a second Interval story but still, worth noting. Shit hasn’t gone completely to shit for the women yet

Nuella is having a crisis because she has no information including on things like ‘women don’t have to bake or be mothers, there are in fact options’. All of this is not helped by her mother stressing out about whether little Larissa is going to go blind like her sister did. Apparently shit went downhill when she was three and now her life is stress and isolation.

Okay, so Natalon’s mother was blind, and now his daughter is blind, and he’s trying to hide it from everybody for fear people are going to think there’s something wrong with him and will stop working with them and that nobody will want to marry his son. He’s given up on Nuella marrying. I want to smack him and adopt his children out to good homes.

Kindan, age 11, starting to realize girls can in fact be cute

Also they’re disguising her so she can play at the ‘yay there’s finally some new company for a few days’ Gather

Even Tarik’s fucking cronies don’t like him!

Nuella’s parents and brother are aware she’s there. No scene will be made.

Nuella getting to dance while Zist chides Kindan about not setting up his also 11-yo friends. “They’re too young to match, and you’re too young to be a matchmaker.”

Ooo, the mysterious missing 8th apprentice was a wherhandler and decided fuck that noise. Can’t blame him, I wouldn’t want ot deal with Tarik either

The assumption is he’d rather face his master’s wrath than work there, which peeps nothign that they’d all rather die than face their own masters’ wraths, and the noting that he may well have been worried about losing his wher to all this shit. Which makes sense with how hostile Tarik has made the place for them

Chapter 6: “Cromcoal, Cromcoal, burning bright; Warm the cold of winter’s night; Cromcoal Cromcoal, underground; Where the best of all coal’s found”

They are calling a dragon to take them to someone called Aleesa for, presumably, a wher egg. We are nearly halfway through this book, by the way, which is a little fucking late to finally be bringing in the wher egg but sure, fine.

Aleesa is the handle or a gold wher. Apparently the title for that is Master. So you get Weyrwomen and Whermasters. That’s pretty cool.

Kindan sees a dragon take note of the ‘we need a dragon’ flag and “Zist listened appreciatively and guided him to crafting a better tale, so that by the end of a sevenday, Kindan’s story took a full fifteen minutes to tell and left all eyes peering up to the sky, hoping for a glimpse of their own.”

Zist has Timed It before. Apparently he accidentally spooked a dragon hatchling when he was younger and they Impressed his friend and at some point he timed it to go back and help himself fix the damage the panicked bronze did. A bronze whose rider is now a Weyrleader, by the by. He’s figuring if it seems like they’ll miss their meeting to get the egg then hopefully they can Time It to get there on time.

Telgar Weyrleader D’gan shows up a week late, bitches about it not being an emergency, talks shit about everybody and everything, is lucky to leave with his life (I’d have killed him). Zist is, I assume, about to call Benden to actually get shit done.

“So, Kindan, what did you think of your first look at a dragon?” “Oh, they’re pretty enough, but you’d never fit one in a mine.”

Benden Weyrleader M’tal, being a proper fucking dragonrider who understands what his fucking duties are, is going to get shit done

People out here respecting whers and their importance, you love to see it.

Chapter 7: “Watch-wher, watch-wher in the mine; Help save life, yours and mine; Guide us in the darkest night; With your keen unfailing sight”

Gaminth reassuring Kindan as they travel Between.

“-to keep the hatchling warm until it’s second, tougher coat came in” Do, do whers shed their skin like birds molt baby fluff? Start with soft wherlet skin and then shed that for tough wher skin? I am amazed and also that’s adorable.

So, you’ve gotta convince the gold to let you pick one of her eggs to take with you. I presume if she says no and you press the matter she eats you.

Oh gods wherhandlers blood their children to their whers! Oh my gods that’s adorable! Make the babies pack! Gods how strong is that did Dask now how many of them were dead dear gods now I’m sad again-

Talking to the queen wher, being polite, sending her mental images, Kindan is a Good Boy

Wher eggs glow! Dimly but they glow! Also good boy Kindan, compliment those eggs!

Also they are half the size of dragon eggs and have wrinkles. (I assume wher eggs are more like snake eggs at first...)

“Eeny, meeny, tipsy, teeny, ah vu bumberosha, nineteen hundred and two, I pick you.” And he gets one with a ring around it in wrinkle.

Aleesa is a fucking Queen, sending Kindan, Zist, a Weyrleader, and the big boss away with a simple “You bore me.” She does make sure to compliment Kindan on a job well done and to reinforce that she expects her payment (which she’d have gotten either way, by the way, wher eggs are pricey and you’re paying for a shot at being allowed to have one)

On the topic of feeding wherlets:

“We’ve been experimenting, actually, on the best post-hatching meal. Watch-whers are not as insatiable as dragons, but they will gulp down meat and sometimes choke, as you know.” She pinned Kindan with a fiery glare, and he nodded as if he knew exactly what she meant. “D’you have oats?”

Kindan nodded, glancing over at Natalon to be sure he was also listening to Aleesa.

“Then arrange to get fresh blood from whoever butchers at the camp. Make porridge of the oats, using water, and add the blood as the oats thicken in the pot. I’d say a half-pail a day should be sufficient. If you keep the blood cool, a pailful should last over a day or two, no trouble. Most camps or Holds slaughter every other day. Feed it was often as it wants, and some of the liver and lungs that might go to waste otherwise. Don’t start meat hunks until three months, when it has enough back teeth to chew with. You can continue with porridge feeds in the morning until the hatchling starts to coats out.”

So the fuckers don’t start with all their teeth on top of everything.

Chapter 8: “Watch-wher, watch-wher in the egg; Grant to me the boon I beg”

This delight of a child is making porridge constantly so that it’ll be ready when the bab hatches. And then when it starts hatching he immediately darts for the porridge.

Bab eats like a fucking garbage disposal

She is also currently assumed to be green and apparently whers have notable enough bits to tell sex even if you can’t be sure of color

Kindan do not call the bab ugly, she is doing her best

“Did it give you a name?” “I didn’t ask.” “It is enough like a dragon to know it’s own name?” “I don’t know.”

“She’s not as big as I thought she would be.“

“Big enough to have the appetite of nine dragons,“ Kindan, almost proudly.

This girl is adorable

The Harper followed him out to the shed and greeted Zenor, who hadn’t moved from the spot in which Kindan had left him. The hatchling had been trying to crawl up his legs, her hungry bleek more insistent.

She has been blooded but not named. Kindan is moving in with her.

Nuella you’re a doll but if you can not assume that a baby can eat whatever an adult can eat, especially when Kindan is working off the knowledge of someone who actually, ya know, has experience with this shit? It’d be great.

The bab is now named Kisk and it’s pretty apparent she named her own damn self, for all that she didn’t use words.

Kindan, in a very 11-yo moment, wonders whether the WherMaster actually knows anything about raising whers since weaning his early worked out fine

Wherlet playing, I repeat, wherlet playing, far too adorable

Kisk is going to be a good little guard, already rooting out people who are where they shouldn’t be

Tarik’s wife likes whers! And is teaching her children to like whers! As all good people should!

Cristov, son of Tarik the Dick, is trying to make up his own mind about whers and-

Kisk darted her tongue out and licked Cristov’s outstretched hand before he could pull it bac,k. She made a sad, don’t-you-like-me noise at Cristov

Tarik: *talks shit like he’s got anything going for him* His Wife: *is gonna fucking smack him if he doesn’t start with some basic decency*

Kisk keeping Kindan up all damn night

Chapter 9: “Walk, baby, walk, come to me; Soon, baby, soon, you’ll walk away from me”

And now they’re trying to say Zenor and Nuella were born and raised in the camp despite saying earlier in the book that they’d been there less than a year two years ago.

Also at 3 months Kisk is 12 hands high at the shoulder and 40 from nose to tail. Which is about 4 ft by 13 ft, and still growing.

Kindan, hit with the sudden realization that oh, yeah, being a wherhandler is going to mean not being a harper

Nuella if anything the fact Kindan can’t see in the dark and doesn’t know where he’s going is all the more reason it’d be better training for Kisk to lead him than you, who knows this tunnel like the back of her hand, blind or no

Ooo, Tarik the Dick had a camp the failed, so now he’s all sour because his nephew’s doing better than him.

M’tal is here, Telgar is still bitches (what is it with Telgar being assholes?) and whers apparently don’t have the same problems with oiling and shit dragons do despite growing far faster which makes no damn sense but sure

Whers and dragons can chat amongst themselves, to the surprise of noone, or at least not me.

Nuella’s sweet on Zenor and honestly, go for it kiddo

Kisk is starting to learn.

Chapter 10: Hot air rises, cold air falls; These are thermodynamic laws

(Fuckers expect me to believe the Pernese couldn’t keep the word ‘year’ but ‘thermodynamic’ survived)

Nuella theorizing that whers see heat because she can feel it. I want to say it’s because she’s twelve and, as kids do, thinks she knows everything, but the more I read the more I’m fairly sure it’s just that the McCaffrey’s want her to be Amazing and The Best (which, ugh) and so are just, doing this. It doesn’t work.

Dragonriders here looking for a potential goldrider (very clearly Nuella from the conversation) and lamenting that based on the dragon’s description she might be blind and therefor ‘unable to Impress’ and just- Shit that makes you wanna throw things

Ya know they did so good before they revealed Nuella is blind. She was just another kid then, it was nice, but now... I love her but my hackles are raising

Also can I just say that whers seeing heat is the stupidest thing I’ve heard yet, given everything we know about their anatomy leads to them seeing in the darkness like everything else with massive fucking eyes and a nocturnal disposition.

Operation: Teach Whers to Bespeak Dragons During Emergencies is a go

Nuella claiming that whers can’t be taught to Between because nobody can see heat like they (apparently) can and we’re to take this as gospel despite the like, second thing Dask ever did on-page being to Between on his lonesome. Did these people not have editors? It didn’t seem so bad at first but as time goes on and we get more shit that contradicts other shit (we got contradicting information within pages of each other for fuck’s sake) I am slowly losing my mind

Tarik continues to be a dick and refuses to shore up his tunnels correctly. And he wonders why he lost his fucking camp.

Kindan saw through Kisk’s eyes during hide-and-seek

Chapter 11: “Watch-wher, watch-wher, guard us all; With your dragon-summoning call”

Turns out wherhandlers don’t take well to some dragonrider coming by and trying to teach them about their whers.

Nuella is being offered the chance to go teach whers to chat with dragons.

Everyone is supportive even while she has a quick little existential breakdown that’s probably been building for a while

We skip forward to Nuella going via dragon to Lemos to start her work. Dragons like her and she takes well to Between

Wherhandlers really can’t do well learning from dragonriders because their critters are so different

Nuella is good at what she does.

There’s far too much of old men going ‘*gasp* this child suddenly reminds me of [blank] they are amazing’ though

Whers and their handlers are learning

Turns out, surprise surprise, whers are awesome

Chapter 12: “Harper, harper, sing me a song; Give me a tune that lasts all day long”

Feels like it’s trying too hard...

Tarik the Dick has caused a cave-in and now is refusing to do anything about it because he is, well, see above

There is a now a team of rescuers, mostly kids, out to save the day via secret passage and wher

Nuella: Lolanth, I need your rider to send word to the MasterMiner and also get the pumps pulling air out the mines Lolanth: I have told my rider, and called Gaminth, he and his are coming, and I’ve called Ista, they’re coming, and I’ve told the miners-

Lolanth is a Good Dragon who apparently does not go halfsies

Lolanth got everyone and their grandmother to this camp within thirty seconds

On the one hand, blind characters getting to be awesome, one the other, this is really leaning towards Magically Disabled. Nobody can hear things like Nuella can, nobody can work with whers like Nuella can, nobody is as smart as Nuella is, she’s 12 and better than the majority of the adults around her, just, if they could fucking chill for five minutes.

Also people are alive on the other side of the cave-in

Finally Kindan remembers that Dask could Between, and I promise you it’s going to turn out that he was a miracle and only Nuella (who has no idea what’s on the other side of the cave-in) can show Kisk where she needs to go

Wow, it’s like I’m magic

Chapter 13: “Watch-wher, watch-wher, do you know; All the places you can go?”

I’m glad everybody who survived the cave-in is saved but we just got a fucking paragraph “But it is I who have been blind” speech from Nuella’s father and just. Kill me, please.

And Kisk has decided to swap handlers and be Nuelsk now.

And Kindan is going off to become a Harper.

~~

Okay, not the worst book I’ve read. There were places that needed editing, there was a lot of shit that contradicted each other (Kindan’s everchanging number of siblings just being one example), it had plenty of the McCaffrey’s trademark Totally Accurate Science, and the longer I spent reading it the more it felt like one of those ‘see, disabled people can also do things and be capable’ stories complete with a fucking “But it is I who have been blind” (literal quote, kill me now). And this shit is from 2003. On the plus side though, there’s plenty of quality wher content and the kids are fun when the writers aren’t on their little Not A Soapbox.

Overall, a 6/10, if someone wrote an anosmiac character this way I’d want their head on a stick no matter how badass they were.

[dxmichelle]

🌟  2020 fanwork highlights 🌟

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by both @atembomb and @rainstormcolors! 

2020 was wild. As I mentioned in my year-end wrap-up post, I wrote a ton of things, and since you can always check out the post through that link, I’m only going to share a few snippet quote here. 

From Nerdshipping Shenanigans, I present passages from both “Blind Date” and “Weekend Getaway”, which I think were the two best ship pieces I’ve done this year.

In “Blind Date”, Ginny coaxes Hermione to attend Hogwarts’s winter formal, and sets her up with a date in the process.

Ginny turned the page in her book. “Is he stopping by Hogsmeade in two weeks?” There have been three Hogsmeade weekends so far through the year. Each time, Seto had traveled from wherever he was working to see Hermione, and she had never seen her friend so eager to visit the village before in all the years she had known her. One time, he even brought Yugi, and the three of them spent almost the entire afternoon at one of the outside café tables next to Wermes Bookstore.

She looked up to see the smile slip from Hermione’s face. So he wasn’t coming this time…interesting.

“He’s going to be at a convention that weekend,” Hermione said. “But he has the rest of them in his calendar. That was the only one he won’t make.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Ginny. Her face softened and she smiled sadly at her. “It must be really hard being so far away all the time.”

Hermione sagged back against her pillow and looked away from her.

“…So where is he these days, anyhow?”

“Right now, San Francisco,” said Hermione, and she leaned forward to pet Crookshanks. “He’ll be in back in Japan during Hogsmeade weekend, promoting a new video game for his company.”

“Guy sure does get around,” said Ginny, “How do you keep track of all the places he keeps going to?” She then smirked over at Hermione and cut in before she could respond. “The answer is – you can’t. Like that one time when –”

Hermione’s face reddened. “It was one time!”

“Weekend Getaway saw Hermione sneak Seto out of the office to celebrate his birthday. 

Seto woke to the faint sound of squawking seagulls and his eyes slowly opened to the darkened bedroom. Hermione was snuggled in, sharing the other half of his pillow with her head resting against the crook of his neck with one arm draped across his chest. He could feel her slow, deep breaths; each exhale a puff of air that warmed his skin just above the collar of his pajamas.

Of all the places she could have taken him, he did not expect a quiet coastal town off the eastern shore of the United States, in a little rented house that sat right along the beach, and the front steps led right onto the boardwalk that seemed to continue on forever in each direction.

“This place is charming,” Hermione had said when they first arrived. “Someone from the Department of International Magical Cooperation mentioned this town to me when I was trying to make plans for the weekend.”

They had spent the better part of yesterday exploring the town. The summer tourist season had ended last month, clearing most of the crowds from the beach. Cool crisp air rolled off of the water to counter the unusually still warm autumn weather. They had to have walked up and down most of the quaint little town, and wandered into a number of tiny little shops.

The longest brunt of time was spent in a hidden gem of a bookstore, four blocks from the house.

“I swear I didn’t know about it when I made the reservations!” she had said. Did he plan on spending half his vacation day in a bookshop? Nope. But was he going to begrudge her the chance to find something to take onto the beach, after seeing how much her eyes lit up once she saw the sign above the shop door? After seeing the pleading look of ‘can we please detour on our way to the museum, just for a few minutes?’ Absolutely not.

It didn’t matter that five minutes turned into a couple of hours.

Sufficed to say, wandering all over town on foot had tired him out more than he expected, and he felt he slept better than he had over the entire last week.

Despite waking up at six in the morning, like clockwork. Hermione seemed to be still asleep.

He shifted, to try and get out from under her arm when she suddenly let out a sad, whiney sort of noise, and she tightened her hold on him.

I also had the fun of writing a gift fic during this year’s YGOME exchange and had the most fun diving into Yugi’s headspace as he returns home from Egypt. This is from Guilt.

Yugi didn’t talk for the majority of the plane ride home, but did manage to give a small smile and a wave to his grandfather at the airport. Grandpa naturally pressed for details but only received short, clipped answers in return: what happened to the Millennium Puzzle? (“Gone.”) Did they get to finish what they set out to do? (“Yes.”) Did he still have the God cards? (“No.”)

Though he had to check himself on the last one. It was no secret that his grandfather loved to admire them, but Yugi vaguely remembered the tomb taking back the God monsters, just as it did the Millennium Items, as if to say the Pharaoh has left. The Millennium Items are gone. Their work is done, they can all finally rest.

Yugi sank down onto his bed and, with a shaking hand, pulled the golden box from his bag. Inside sat both his new Duel Monsters deck, and the one he used to share with Atem. He removed his deck and put it safely away in his deck box. But he couldn’t help but stare at the set of cards he left inside.

Ten years…

Yugi scooted back against his headboard and clutched the golden puzzle box tightly against his chest, eyes closed.

If he went back in time ten years to the date Grandpa handed him the Millennium Puzzle, broken apart in this very box and told his younger self of all he had to look forward to, both the good and the bad, he would have thought himself mad. Eight years to complete a simple puzzle? Ridiculous! Magic? Come on!

Gonna cut it off here because otherwise I will be dropping fic snippets for the next week. OLSSM, Sapphire Road, Ghost in the Machine, and Murder Most Foul all have too many great moments and I love them all equally. 

Continuing forward, I’m going to tag @darksidechick823 and @bellamy-taft! But if you see this post and are a writer, consider yourself tagged too! :D