#HI HELLO happy belated holidays!

[kithtaehyung]

the window (3tan) (m) | myg

title: the window (m)   pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)   series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au   summary: you get to spend the holidays in a lavish private lodge with your brother and all his friends. but you’re just really fucking sad tonight… and maybe a bit mad, too. note: so in order to not fall more behind than i already am, i went ahead and combined both holiday specials into one🥃this one came about due to window anon’s reminder about yoongi’s window threat, and everyone that proceeded to cause outright chaos all day after that. so if you want someone to yell at for this, yell at them!!! note 2: this is a holiday special! therefore where it fits/if it fits in future canon is not disclosed. so this can be enjoyed as a one-shot, but i still highly recommend reading all the three tangerines series if you haven’t yet<3 it’ll make things make a lot more sense.  warnings: strong language, alcohol, this yoongi requires his own warning tbh, chains making a comeback who is shocked!!!, or*l (m rec), manhandling, hitting it from the back a ha ha, angst :(((, masturb*tion, exhibiti*nism, omg we’re kinda pissed y’all😳, ….c*ckwarming, rough s*x, slow motion l o l, missi*nary, protected s*x, cmnf (clothed male), pain kink :)), kissing haha, !!!angry!!!s*x!!!!, c*wgirl, light d*m/sub dynamics, tense scenes, bro appearance, body worship, yoongi is deliciously aggravating, but so is brat!reader<333, ch*king (m/f rec), head/hair pulling (m/f), multiple org*sms, yoongi’s fit is basically 2022 grammys have funn🥴, cute af aftercare<3 drop date: january 10th, 2023, 7:17pm est word count: 15.3k bc i can’t stfu !! 

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“You sure you don’t wanna join us?”

“I’ll be okay, Tae.” 

“Okay. Well, call me if you change your mind.” 

“I will.” 

“Wait. Are you really sure?”

“Yes, Chim.” 

“...Okay.” 

Before you shut your door, you offer both boys a smile they don’t buy. 

But they leave regardless, and you watch as they make it down the staircase of your elaborate rented house, their chatter coating both the polished floors and the decorated walls. 

A sigh escapes. 

You know they’re meeting up with everyone else, but you can’t bring yourself to join in on the festivities. Not after whatever the hell you witnessed at dinner last night. 

Why did Yoongi… 

Fuck, forget about it. It’s probably nothing. 

Drifting to your bed, you check your phone previously dumped on the nightstand, sighing at an empty screen before making your way into the cozy nook of your bedroom. 

Seriously, does every bedroom in this mansion-like place have a mini kitchen and living area, too? How did Jungkook happen to score this house for a whole week? You even have a decent balcony, which you would be sitting on if not for the subzero temperatures outside.

However this happened, you’re still in shock that you’re the only one who got a bedroom to themselves. 

Well, maybe it’s not that surprising. Your brother definitely muscled everyone else into rooming with each other, claiming Yoongi for himself. The only one that really complained was Jungkook, but Seokjin only said to suck it up before rolling his suitcase right past the younger one’s pout.

Contemplative, you walk over to fill the electric kettle you found in the kitchen, flipping it on before watching the sunset outside hickory windows.

If only your friends were able to come. At least you could’ve enjoyed their company around your fireplace while you downed hot chocolate and stewed in your thoughts. Maybe then you would brush off these icky feelings faster, or at least had Dom there to get another read on the situation you’re replaying in your head. 

Then again.

She would probably be biased and say Yoongi isn’t shit.

Groaning, you grab a mug from one of the cabinets before taking a hot chocolate packet from the counter, tearing it open and hoping it helps.

Upon inspection, there doesn’t seem to be much of anything—just a wad of the powder stuffed in one of the corners.

Of course.

A tsk scratches your teeth before you lean the cocoa against your cup, and the kettle boils just as your blood pressure falls close behind.

Yoongi knew you could see him.

Why did he do that?

And why hasn’t he said anything about it since?

The trip had been pretty magical and fantastic before that dinner. You got to go sightseeing in the snow-capped mountains with everyone, snuck a peek of Tae’s little moment with Jimin in the hot springs, visited a quaint village with pretty shops, and even sat around a fire pit after grilling food.

Only the studio guys and your brother have been less active during this trip, since they’ve all committed to various projects that they’ve been working on in their rooms. 

Profoundly different from, as that woman so wonderfully put it last night, going sightseeing at her place instead. 

You still remember the look Yoongi had after she slipped him what you imagine was her number. Smack dab in the middle of all of you having dinner in the same little town as the first time. 

When she popped up unannounced, Hoseok and Namjoon were too nice to wave her off. But it wasn’t until it was apparent that she was only there for Yoongi did they swallow their niceties—only for your brother to swoop in with the wingman charm. 

“Are you all enjoying the town?”

“Hell yeah,” he blurted before Yoongi could even say anything. “Food’s good and the views are great. We just went on one of those mountain tours, too.” 

“Ugh, aren’t those so fun?”

“You get it. Right, Yoong?”

Frankly, you don’t wanna recall how the rest of that went down again. Not when all you could picture is the hand kept on Yoongi’s back the whole time, or the look he actually gave her when she turned suggestive. 

And how deep you dug your nails into Tae’s dress pants.

Fuck, you should apologize for those marks he definitely has.

What makes everything even worse? You recognized exactly where you saw her before that night. 

You… She…

“Fuck.”  

Saddened even more than before, you dump hot water into your cup, yelping when some sloshes out onto your hand ouch.

Of course. Yes. How perfect. 

The next curse is less subtle than your shout as you bang the kettle back onto the countertop. And you’re one second from tossing your fresh cup in the sink before you hear rapid knocking. 

Shit. 

Your brother most definitely heard you from right next door. 

Eyes shut, you fling your hand around while making your way over to tell him to screw off. He knows better than anyone why you could possibly be in one of these moods, dinner woes or not. 

“Don’t worry, dude, I’m—”

Oh.

He’s not who you expect to see at all.

“Kook,” you whoosh out, closing the gap so that only your soured face can be seen. “Hi.” 

“Hey. You okay?”

Observing concern under blond bangs, you give a sniff nod. “Yeah. Why?”

“I just…” When Jungkook pauses, you finally notice how nice he looks. “Thought I heard you shouting.”

“Oh.”

He looks really nice, in fact. His suit is a whole step above the sweats and baggy shirt you’re sporting behind thick wood and room care instructions.

This holiday event the neighborhood is throwing must be fancy as hell. You figured Taehyung and Jimin dressed up just because, but apparently you’re missing a whole—

God. Damn it.

Your heart must’ve seen Yoongi coming from your brother’s room before you did, because its beats already stop before he fully comes into view.

Wow.

What in the fuck?

Why the hell does he have to look like that when you’re this frustrated? Of course he’d rock a black button-up and slacks. Of course he’d style his hair in a way that makes you wanna snatch him from the hallway. Of course he’d look the most expensive you’ve ever seen him.

This is a whole other layer of upset that you didn’t need tonight. 

Did he dress up because…

Shut up. Just shut up shut up and talk again because Jungkook looks gravely concerned.

“Well,” you start, tearing your gaze away from your current problem and fighting back pent-up rage. “I’m fine. Have fun.”

“You aren’t going?”

Like some tether that would go taut if pulled apart for too long, your eyes snap back to Yoongi’s. But your response remains tight as he adjusts one of his cuffs, “I said I wasn’t gonna.”

Damn it, don’t lose it when they’re both here. Jungkook’s already got a look in his eye and Yoongi is definitely sussing you out with his furrowed gaze.

Don’t be like this right now. Let them go first. 

It’s the younger one that tries to convince you,

“Hey, it could be fun. And it’s an open bar! We can wait if you wanna cha—”

“I’m good,” you clip him off, heart sinking because you’re being brash but you can’t rein yourself in. With what already happened combined with… other things, you are way too wound to be social. “I already said I wasn’t going at dinner last night. But y’all seemed distracted enough, so.” 

Yoongi straightens while Jungkook simply utters a confused sound. 

Fucking hell, just let them go. 

Don’t make it worse. Don’t do it. 

But the dinner, the dinner, the dinner. You didn’t ask about it, but Yoongi still could’ve said something about it right he could’ve texted well okay this really shouldn’t be that big of a deal anyway maybe it’s nothing but fuck you’re still mad wait you’re saying something,

“Have fun sightseeing.”

Shit.

“Wait—”

Doors slam a lot louder when they’re huge.

And leave a more prominent silence, too.

Slowly pressing your back against the grain, you instantly feel rife with regret. 

That didn’t need to happen like that. 

Especially with Jungkook there looking both lost and confused as hell, when all he wanted to do was check on you.

Goddamn it. All you had to do was wait until they were gone. Why did you take it out on them? 

Yoongi didn’t say anything about what happened. But you didn’t talk to him, either. A whole day passed and his texts about the snow outside and going to the party tonight are the last ones in your thread. 

Which you were mad about because you already mentioned you weren’t going.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“What the hell just happened?”

Wait, they’re still at the door? 

Eyes downcast and grey, you perk your ears to see what they could possibly be saying.

If any insults are thrown, you can’t be mad. Not when you just acted so damn shitty.

“Don’t, Kook.”

“But I—”

“Drop it.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

“The fuck? No. Let’s go.” 

“Okay… Wait, is he coming?”

“Nah.” 

“They both aren’t? Who’s going?”

“…Everyone else.” 

“Oh… Right, okay.” 

You’re fully slumped on the ground once their deep voices vanish down the stairs, and a single tear slips from your chin as your arms top shaky knees. 

You hope Jungkook doesn’t take it personal. 

Dinner woes or not, you weren’t going anyway. 

“Hey, babe. How’s the trip without me? Boring as hell probably.” 

“Something like that,” you huff, voice rueful through your matching, broken smile. As you take another bite of your tiny snack bowl, you keep your eyes on the movie that some people deem a Christmas one, despite there being more shooting and a guy in a destroyed white tank than anything. 

Whatever. You’ll take it above any of the fluffier choices. 

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked what’s wrong. Now you’re just scaring me. Do I need to fly my ass over there?”

“No, Dom,” you sigh. “Just need a metaphorical gut punch.” 

Immediately, your friend’s voice turns low and condensed. 

“What did he do.” 

“Uhm.” For some reason, her protectiveness makes you want to cry again. But you have to get through this in one piece, especially if it turns out to be nothing. “Technically, I don’t know if he did anything.” 

There’s a pause before Dom responds again, 

“Why not?” 

Your lips press together with guilt. “I didn’t ask.” 

“Okay, so…” 

“Ugh, I wish you saw what went down,” you respond with frustration. “I know I sound dumb, but—”

“What happened, baby. I haven’t heard you like this in a long ass time.” 

“Sad?”

“Pathetic.” 

“Well, goddamn!” You give your phone a glare before a surprise laugh bubbles forth, and you can hear your friend cackle on the other line. “Whose side are you on?”

“Tell me everything first and I’ll decide.” 

“Fuck you and your sag brain.” 

“Don’t have this tat for nothing.” 

After you take a deep breath, you turn down the gunfire and explosions before reliving the dinner. How Yoongi had been giving you looks as you and your brother traded embarrassing stories, your whole table laughing with every single one. 

You tell Dom about how you saw the woman come up to you all, hand going right to the back of Yoongi’s chair before it slipped onto his shoulder—which he did nothing about. 

She stays silent throughout the whole thing, even when you tell her how Yoongi glanced down at the napkin he got before turning to your amused as hell brother, both of them engaged in what seemed to be interesting conversation. 

When you’re done, you stuff a bunch more food in your mouth, so much so that you have to chew a lot before answering her follow-up question, 

“And he hasn’t texted you at all after that?”

You cough a bit before forcing the pity snacks down, swallowing more than salt before admitting, 

“He has.” 

“Oh. Okay, and?”

“I…” Damn it. “I haven’t responded.”

There’s a long sigh before Dom recaps, 

“So the man texts you once after that and you don’t even—”

“Twice.” 

“...What?”

Your eyes shut in embarrassment. “He, uhm. He texted twice.” 

Silence.

“And I may have just slammed the door in his face.”

Triple, layered, compounded silence.

In fact, after a whole thirty seconds, Dominique is so quiet you think she literally walked away from you and her phone.

You’re so curious that you bring it up to your face before getting blasted by her yell,

“Really?”

“Look—”

“You called me to tell me this? You made me walk away from family game time, you know that? I’m taking all the heat—”

“Dom, I’m sorry, but—”

“For the love of— Finish whatever the fuck you’re stuffing your face with, and text him back.” 

“But he—”

“He what? Flirted with some chick in front of everyone like he’s supposed to?” 

You snap your mouth shut. 

“What did you expect him to do? Lock eyes with you the whole time and wave the girl off as if he’s already got someone at home?” 

“I—”

“What happened to keeping things on the down low.”

“Alright!” Your head ducks straight between your arms. “I get it, okay? I’m just in a shit mood like I am every year and the one person I…” 

You inhale slow through your nose, eyes closed to the world. Two people already got burned by your misplaced wrath. You don’t need to add a third. 

Swallowing, you try again. “The one person that could possibly make it better this time just took this chick’s number in front of me.” 

“Babe.” 

You sigh. 

“I just wanna see him, Dom,” you finally admit to the universe. “But we can’t.”

“Mm.”

“And that dinner just made it even worse.” Another saddened whoosh of air slips from your nose. “I know I’m overreacting. I am. But it’s upsetting to have to sit through that.��� 

“Then tell him that.”

“Not right now. Not after shutting him out.”

“Then suck it up and apologize first.”

She’s right. 

Either way this goes, an apology to Yoongi is definitely in order. 

But also, this is the first conversation in awhile in which your best friend absolutely grilled you. Even when she cornered you in your car to warn you about Yoongi before, it wasn’t this caustic. 

The way she’s come around is mind-blowing. It’s enough to make you question, “When did you start defending him this hard?”

Dom immediately corrects with a scoff before comforting you in the most Dominique way possible. 

“This isn’t even about him. I’m looking out for you. And right now, you’re the one that’s hurting you.” 

Your face scrunches with emotion.

“So make up with my future brother in law and I’ll see you when—”

“What?”

“—get back. And y’all use protection, right? Cus I don’t wanna be an auntie just ye—”

“Dom!” You are so whooping her know-it-all ass when you get back. She doesn’t get to give you butterflies after making you cry! 

“What? I need to be stupid rich first.”

“I’m hanging up on you now goodbye.”

There’s a fizzy cackle on the other line, and you can’t help but break into a grin when she bids farewell.

“Love you!”

You wipe a trail from your cheek before moving your phone up to your mouth. Because you wanna cradle it close while saying bye for real, 

“Love you, too.”

You [10:11pm]: hey

You [10:13pm]: i’m sorry 

There. 

You did it. 

…And now you wait.

Ten long minutes of fidgeting and worrying later, you finally get a response. 

Yoongi [10:23pm]: You coming?

Part of you wishes to, especially knowing he looks like the devil incarnate. 

But you just can’t bring yourself to go. It’s just not in you tonight. 

You [10:27pm]: still no

Yoongi [10:27pm]: Ok hold on

You wait for a few moments before you get a call, and your eyes bug out of their sockets because you certainly didn’t expect this.

When you pick up, it’s loud as hell on his end. “Hi.”

“Talk to me.”

“I’m…” This feels silly to do right now. There’s a ton of sound and music, and your subject feels supremely out of place. “You sure?”

“Yes, babe.” 

What did he just say? Can’t people hear him?

“I’m just…” Well, if he’s fine with it then you’ll take the opportunity. “Sad? Upset? Something like that.”

“I know. I’ve been trying to get outta here but—”

“One more drink, Yoongi!”

“Yoongi, hurry up.”

“Is that his girlfriend—”

Ah. Cool.

And your mood sours even more than before. 

“Right,” you respond, voice hardened and emotions knotted. “Sounds like it’s been super hard.”

“Okay, hold up. Is this about the dinner?”

Teeth grit when you confirm, “Yes, it is.”

“What about it?”

“You know exactly what.”

“No. I don’t. So if you wanna say something, say it.”

You’re boiling inside. If he knows it’s about the dinner he should know what the fuck you’re referring to. Why is he being difficult?

Truthfully, you’re so fed up that you damn near drop it. “Never mind.”

“…What?”

“Nothing.”

Yoongi’s voice competes with a flurry of other sounds, but its heat still comes across,

“It’s not nothing. Don’t lie.” 

“Did you end up calling her? That girl.” You exhale sharp as you finally ask, body tightly wound and ready to burst. “If I can’t lie then you can’t, either.”

And there’s a moment of silence. 

Stupid, dreadful silence.

“I did.”

And your heart slams into the ground. “I see.” 

“You wanna know why?”

Absolutely not. “No.”

“No?”

“I’m done now.”

“Wait a sec—”

“Yoongi!”

There’s a commotion on the line before you hear a much higher voice, way too close to the receiver,

“He’s with us now, ma’am. Bye!”

The line cuts.

Your vision burns.

And you fold.

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Yoongi [10:47pm]: Pick up. Please.

You [10:49pm]: i can’t do this. not tonight.

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Yoongi: Voicemail

“Look. I don’t even know if you’ll hear me out, but. I only called her cus she works at that jewelry store in the village. The one we all looked at the first day? Maybe you remember, if you don’t it’s cool, too. But I was getting something for your brother and I didn’t want him to know. So, yeah.”

That’s where you saw her before.

But Yoongi could’ve at least told you that beforehand. Or at all. 

Why didn’t he even mention that? 

Why did he have to leave you guessing and what about the people at the party… 

It helps to know. 

But it doesn’t mend you entirely.

Yoongi [11:02pm]: I left. 

Yoongi [11:03pm]: It’s still fucking cold btw

You [11:05pm]: you left ?? why?

Yoongi [11:05pm]: You know why

You [11:07pm]: it’s still early

Yoongi [11:08pm]: Got somewhere to be 

You [11:10pm]: i’m sure you do

Shutting your eyes, you already regret sending that. 

…But when he replies? 

Yoongi [11:12pm]: K

Yoongi [11:12pm]: Night

You know you crossed the line.

And just like that, your haze of anger whooshes from your eyes, vision snapping as clear as your head should’ve been ages ago. 

Fuck.

You know for a fact that Yoongi wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. So why the hell have you been treating him like shit? Being in a sour mood doesn’t give you an excuse to be this way.

All anger now melting into pure regret, you slap the mattress before rushing up, snatching your snack bowl up and berating yourself like hell. 

But are you yelling at yourself entirely? Or is part of your wrath still staring Yoongi down? 

Fuck. You don’t know. Maybe it’s both; maybe it’s misplaced entirely. 

Dumping your dish in the mini-sink, you hear it clink into others, your pathetic, unceremonious pile growing even larger.

Absolutely no reason to check your phone anymore.

There’s no way you’ll hear from him now.

Buried in bed, you sniffle for the umpteenth time, turning the television up louder so that your pitiful state can’t be heard through the wall. 

Your brother is on the other side. And if he heard you crying, you wouldn’t get rid of him until you told him a lie or claimed Mother Nature’s monthly wrath. Which would also be a lie tonight, too. 

You messed up.

And you deserve this silence because why can’t you just trust him like you’ve been working up to? Do the holiday lows really affect your mindset this much? 

Well. Now that you think about it. 

This does remind you of a similar situation from some years back… Is that why—

Wait.

Your phone’s vibrating. 

You shoot up from under the covers.

Where is it?

You tossed it where is it—floor. 

Snatching it from the cold carpet, you check the screen and crack into a sob at the caller ID. 

Goddamn it… Why is he giving you so many chances.

You’re the one that screwed up.

Yoongi: Incoming Call

“…Hi.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, still feeling the burns near your eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Just let me in, doll.”

“Huh?”

There’s a pause before he breathes, and you cannot believe what you’re hearing. 

“Open the window.” 

What…?

No fucking way. 

You pause while staring at your curtains, wondering if Yoongi is really on the other side of the thick, neutral material. 

He can’t be. 

But if he is, you gotta get him the fuck inside because it’s cold as hell out there. 

So you fling the covers off while ending the call, chucking it behind you while tugging the drapes to the side. 

And you can’t believe what you see. 

One thing about Yoongi: he’s always going to look better than you. Even when standing on a dark balcony, bangs so stiff they aren’t even jittering with his shakes. 

“Oh, shit,” you curse aloud as you unlock the latch, not realizing that as soon as you slide the door open just enough—

“Come here.”

In seconds, you’re swooped into a freezing hug, and he smells like whiskey and cologne but also like him and home and you’re too caught up in his fingers on the back of your neck to notice him sliding the door shut with his other hand. “Why did you—” 

“Quiet.” 

“But—” 

“Uh uh.” 

“You’re mad—” 

“I am,” he mutters, and your heart constricts before he clarifies. “But only cus I didn’t do this right.” 

“What?” 

What didn’t he do right? What are you missing? How is he even here? There are too many questions and not enough answers at all. 

But Yoongi still doesn’t let go of your head, instead palming it just a bit more into his dress shirt before he whispers, “Just...” 

And he stops. 

Without any indication of—

“Can I just kiss you.” 

Your heart drops, which is painfully ironic because it feels lighter than ever. 

Lifting your head from his person, you can only stare into his awaiting gaze, shifting your eyes side to side because this man needs to be studied by all of humanity. 

How can someone manage to break down your defenses in five words? How can someone make a day full of missteps and wasted time feel like it wasn’t a waste at all? 

You only get to nod once before he consumes you in a frenzy, nerves and senses going haywire at the way he’s tugging you in holy fuck you see stars. 

Desperation. Frustration. You taste both of these, but there is also something else—an apology. 

Good. 

Because even though you messed up, he kinda did, too. And you think you now have the courage to tell him what he did to upset you.

“You know what?” 

“Hmm.”

You snag the front of his shirt. “I’m pissed, too.” 

As he slings you around to kiss you against the chilled glass door, your body buzzes with a flurry of thoughts. Under all the pain, the anger, the relief that he’s here… 

It’s just intriguing as fuck to see him in this state.

Because Yoongi has shown you time and time again how dangerous he can be. How he can lose control in the best ways just as you do for him. 

But right now? Devouring you like you both had been apart for months while your brother’s on the other side of the wall? 

“Yoongi—” 

“Don’t.” 

This is the most daring he’s ever been. And you’re completely surrendering to the flames he’s engulfing you with. 

Your hands grip his top incredibly hard, clawing at him with unspoken words of your own. With each tug, you’re oscillating between telling him to leave, and begging him to stay. 

And with both of his palms on your neck, his firm presses tell you he’s not leaving regardless of what you have to say. 

Suddenly, your heart isn’t aching because of what you witnessed before. It’s aching because of how wonderful and stupid and perfect this man is. It hurts because…

“This is all I wanted,” you finish your thoughts through wobbly, puffy lips. 

When Yoongi hovers just enough to ghost over you, you can’t keep from shaking when you continue, 

“I just… I wanted you here, even if you upset me.” 

Instead of claiming your lips again, Yoongi goes for a light touch to your nose. Which is just as fine because that’s his to claim, too. “But all I did was shut you out, and just now those girls sounded all over you and—” 

“You should’ve seen what happened.” 

Blinking, you feel the distance he’s creating by leaning away. “Hmm?” 

“After that chick took my phone,” he explains, deep set in a frown. “Shit pissed me the fuck off.” 

“Oh.” 

“I don’t even know where they came from. Hobi, maybe?” He shakes his head again, and the agitation you witness between his shoulders makes you crumble. “But doesn’t matter. At all. Okay?” 

“No, I know. I’m not—I’m not normally like this. But this time of year is just…” You sigh, tilting your head down until Yoongi forces you to keep looking him in the eye. When you go on, his insistent finger on your chin makes tears form. “It messes with me. But that’s no excuse to be an ass.” 

In the wake of your admittance, he simply stares. And stares some more. 

A single drop of remorse slips from your eye, but you swipe it as soon as you feel the trail. Because you’re not gonna dwell in this any longer. He’s here, knowing damn well he shouldn’t be, and you realize that’s enough to tell you that he’s sorry, too.  

But what is that look in his eye? 

What is he saying that you can’t quite decipher? 

“Did you get my message?”

You nod.

“Mm. Well, it’s not all true.” 

Oh. 

Hell no.

When you’re about to move away, he stills you with a hand on your arm while reaching into his back pocket. 

What does he mean he lied what did he lie about he better explain quick or else… a pouch?

Your eyes stay unblinking as you register that Yoongi’s holding a soft bag in his hand. 

And you know exactly what those are used for. 

“Yoongi,” you whisper, voice almost lost. “What the hell is that?” 

“I didn’t go back just for him.” He keeps staring at the tiny container while you regard him, still gobsmacked. “But yeah, that girl? She thought I was there for her, so. Wasn’t exactly happy when I mentioned you.” 

Your heart has got to keep it together. “Me?” 

“Yeah. I knew what I wanted to get you, but. Couldn’t exactly go there myself without a reason.” As he places the soft pouch in your hand, he explains, “He was on my ass about seeing her after the dinner, too.” 

Your hand closes around the bag. 

He knew what he wanted to get you? 

You?

This whole night just seems to drift more and more into dreamland. Are you sleeping after all? Those kisses did feel very, very real, though…

Suspended in disbelief that Yoongi is both present and handing you a gift, you breathe out, 

“Thank you… But why didn’t you tell me?” 

Yoongi scrunches his face in what you assume is embarrassment. Adorable. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” he says through a regretful smirk. “Guess I should’ve just fessed up.” 

“This time? Yeah.” You look down at the bag, feeling like you don’t deserve it. “I know I shouldn’t have, but my brain went straight for the worst possible scenario. It’s, umm…”

Looking away, you fight the tears that you specifically didn’t want falling. The ones that you were done crying years ago, 

“It’s happened before. Around this same time, actually.” 

Eyes burning, Yoongi seethes. “Who the fuck?” 

You shake your head and face him again, whispering out reassurance, 

“Someone that doesn’t matter now.”

His silence seems to be different than before. When he runs a hand along the side of your head, you press into it like second nature. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t know.”

“It’s not something I like talking about,” you quietly confess. “Which is stupid if it’ll also make me upset. So I’m sorry, too.” 

“You wanna know something?” 

“Sure.” 

He drops his hand into a pocket. “You being mad never crossed my mind. No one else can even...” Yoongi lets out a huff so delicate you would never guess it was his. “If anything, I’m pissed that I haven’t shown you well enough.” 

Now that’s interesting. 

Blinking, you reach for context, “Haven’t shown me? Shown me what?”

He rakes a hand through his hair while glancing away. But when you lock eyes, he clarifies with zero waver in his tone,

“How I feel about you.”

…Oh.

Your stare is full of wonder and, while you didn’t notice it before, he seems to have a certain aura around him tonight. Something strong. Something resolute. 

“No,” you whisper, a tear pinging onto your shirt. “You have. Damn it, I—It’s my fault.” 

He is quick to assuage your guilt, just like always. And like all the times before, he moves on before you can protest, 

“Open it.”

Oh. Right. You still have the impossible gift in your hand that you know you’re gonna keep forever without even knowing what it could be. 

In front of you, Yoongi remains silent as you widen the opening. And you feel him awaiting your reaction as you pull out a necklace so simple, yet so elegant, that you can only assume that yes, you are dreaming. None of this is actually happening.

It’s a thin chain, with small links and no embellishments. 

And it’s perfect. 

“Oh my god.” 

“She insisted I get you some sort of charm or whatever for it,” he finally speaks in murmurs. “But I didn’t wanna pick something you wouldn’t like.” 

You stare. 

“So I’ll just bring you next time, and you choose.” 

And you damn near drop the gift. “What?” 

When you slap a palm over your mouth, Yoongi’s lips curve. “No bullshit.” 

“I…” What is happening? What is going on? “I dunno how you’d swing that since everyone’s here.” 

“I’ll just take you here myself.” 

His look of confidence has you averting your gaze in an instant. 

“Just us.” 

Tonight has taken too many turns into madness. He’s joking, right? It’s not enough to sneak into your room with your door completely unlocked, huh?

No. He’s not serious. You both know that’s the longest shot in history, especially considering your situationship isn’t even fully fleshed out. 

But it’s nice to pretend. 

Especially when he sounds so sure it’ll be real someday.

“This is way too much,” you say through a rueful smile, head shaking as you continue to dub tonight unreal. “Thank you, Yoongi.” 

“Huh? You deserve a lot more than this.” He scoffs while taking the necklace from your hand, carefully slipping it back into the bag. “And I was planning to give it to you later, but uhm. Figured now was a better time.” 

“Why?” 

He shrugs. “Just wanted to say you got nothing to worry about.” He softly tosses the bag on your rumpled comforter before grabbing at your hips. “And that you looked hot as fuck at that dinner.” 

Shivers coat your body as you parry, “I wore the biggest coat I brought, are you kidding?”

“Nope.” 

Suspicion makes you hum, but you enjoy his compliments regardless. Even if he’s full of shit, his kindness never fails to heal wounds. “So…”

“Hmm.”

It seems like Yoongi’s done all he wanted to do. Running back the minutes in your mind, he’s managed to kiss the living crap out of you, show that you have nothing to be anxious about, given you a gift, and offered to take you back here on your own getaway trip.

What the hell is he still standing around for? He’s done more than enough, so he needs to get the hell out of here.

“You really came here to tell me all that?” 

“Yeah.” He snags your chin. “And to teach you a fucking lesson.” 

What.

What.

Slack-jawed, you rush out, “You aren’t serious—” 

“Dead serious.” 

You know exactly what Yoongi’s implying. But as much as you want nothing more, you can’t. There’s no way! 

“But—” 

Your brother is still very much awake, judging by the loud hip-hop beats bumping through the wall. 

You know it’s a slim chance he would even swing by your room. But still… 

“We can’t.” 

Yoongi grins at the panic you feel buzzing in your eyes. Grins! “Why not?”

“You know exactly why!” you whisper, grabbing him to kiss some sense into that reckless brain you love so much. 

He responds in kind, pushing into you and almost bending you backward. Releasing you with a pop, he asks, smug, “You want me to leave?” 

“Fuck no.” You bring him back in with more force, and your belly flips at his conceited chuckles. “But he’s next door.” 

“I know,” he rumbles. “So keep it the fuck down.” 

Goddamn it. The thrill of having him here while everyone is on this trip bursts your senses wide open, and you’re embarrassed that you’re the most turned on you’ve been in a minute. 

How the hell is that even possible? 

Is it the secrecy? The danger? The possibility of Yoongi getting his entire ass beat if you were caught? 

Fucking hell, it’s everything. And what makes it even worse is how stupidly attractive this man gets when he’s cocky. 

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you lead him straight back against the edge of your bed, and he grunts as his legs bump right into it. 

Shit, that was loud. Was it loud? Crap, you’re paranoid already.

With a sigh, you finally let go, hanging your head. “We can’t,” you repeat, breathless and more to yourself than to him. 

Because this little secret cannot be revealed. Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever since your brother would probably riot.

Yoongi lets you sit with your thoughts for a few seconds before relenting, “I can go, doll.” When you jet your head up, he offers a tiny squeeze of your arm. “If that’s what you want.” 

“Oh… No, I”—you gulp, not believing what’s coming out of your own mouth—“I want this.” 

His brow cocks up. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you affirm, face serious but stomach acting outright silly. “I wanna forget my own name.”  

“I can make that happen.” 

You don’t doubt that. He’s done it more than once before.

“But also…” Summoning courage from all angles, you place a firm hand on his chest. “Can I still be mad at you?” 

Yoongi falls completely silent for a moment, his stare incredulous and his chest stiff under your palm. 

Did his heart… beat harder there?

But he regains his voice before you question it further. His deep, sinfully low voice,

“Whatever you want, baby girl.” 

“Good.” You push him immediately, heart stammering when he falls onto your bed. “Because I wanna make you forget yours, too.” 

“Fuck.”

As soon as you pounce, Yoongi wastes no time in groping both cheeks of your ass, and you can’t help but squeak when he hauls you off to pin you down into the mattress. 

Air leaves you in a rush as he keeps up the offensive, bearing down on you as he lodges a tone thigh right against your cunt. Another mewl escapes before he clasps a hand around your mouth. 

When he speaks, it’s compressed thunder. And his words strike through you like lightning,

“As much as I wanna hear you, you better shut the fuck up, doll.” 

You hum into his palm, twisting your body to try and gain control again. But you find it’s no use as you thrust your chest into his, the slow rumbles of his conceited laughs all you receive. 

“So cute,” he coos into your ear, chuckling even lower when you whoosh out a grunt. “But you’re gonna wait your turn like a good girl.” 

“No!” you grit into his hand, moaning low when you feel fingers graze right over your cunt. 

When did he even move his leg! 

Yoongi shifts his head, bangs tickling the side of your neck when he questions, “No?” Shifting your shorts, he slips his fingers right underneath them and your panties, causing you to flinch right away. “Wanna try that again?” 

“N…” You breathe out of your nose, and quickly realize that he isn’t gonna move his fingers any longer unless you give in. 

…But why do it so easily?

You’ve spent the past twenty-four hours being pissed at the world—and this man to some degree��so why waste all the compressed energy making a warzone of your body?

Use it. Use it to make the most of the time you get this version of Yoongi to yourself.

Lifting one of your arms, you grab his palm to yank it away from your mouth before defying him a second time. 

“Make me,” you hiss, lifting your head to meet his lips. “Bitch.”

Everything happens at once.

Before you can blink, your arms are pinned above your head while large fingers lodge their way into your mouth. While you’re busy taking them in, there’s a dark, almost sinister vow trickling into your ear, and shivers coat every inch of your skin,

“You’re gonna wish you kept this pretty mouth shut.” 

Your reply is a gurgle, but he keeps going in, 

“Because you seem to think I’m not yours.” 

Wait. What? 

That’s the… That’s the lesson he’s gonna teach you?

“And I’m gonna fuck you until you get the point.”

Oh, fuck. He’s still pissed.

He may not tell you exactly how mad he really is, but you can tell he’s frustrated. And quite frankly, you would be too if your devotion was questioned.

Fuck. If you saw things from his side, you really would be upset. 

The twinge between your thighs rattles your entire lower body. Because he’s gonna tear you apart in the most beautiful way.

“Get up.” 

“What—” 

Yoongi hauls you upward, getting you out of the bed before bringing you to the other side of the bedroom. 

Huh? 

What’s he doing? Why is your mind a whirlwind right now? 

Silent but firm, he leads you to one of the armchairs in your room’s nook, sitting you down before giving a chaste kiss. After, he goes to your door to lock it, and you watch unblinking as he takes long strides back to you. 

You don’t know what the hell is going on.

But you literally cannot be more ready for it.

Unbuttoning one of his cuffs, Yoongi simply stands over you while explaining, 

“You’re gonna show me first.” 

“Huh?” 

He folds his sleeve inward before pushing it up his forearm. “How you get off.” 

Oh, god. 

God.

“Yoongi—” 

He uses a knee to spread one of your legs to the side, staring at your center that you know is already wetting straight through your bottoms.

When you stay silent, he proceeds to slip his other sleeve upward, cocking an impatient brow from above,

“Don’t make me wait.” 

Before you can respond, he walks away, moving towards a tall lamp standing in a corner of the dark room. As you wonder how he’s able to switch demeanors as quickly as a lightbulb, he flicks it on, shortly before taking comfortable residence in the armchair opposite you. 

You can only sit there, full of wonder and not knowing what the hell to do. 

Does he really have to spread his legs as wide as yours, though? 

Handsome asshole.

“You tappin’ out already?”

“Shove it,” you rush out, pouting with a beating heart when he leans his smug face on defined knuckles. 

Because whatever Yoongi’s plan is, this scenario? Is a dream. 

You’ve been wanting to do this for so long—longer than you’ll ever, ever divulge. All the nights you spent touching yourself imagining him watching from your desk, or even right beside you on the bed, whispering things that you will never admit that you thought of yourself. 

It doesn’t help that Yoongi looks like Sin.

So you bite your lip, the essence of time and possibility of someone knocking on your door spurning you into action. 

You reach down to stick your hand down your pants—

“Fuck that.” 

What?

Freezing, you watch his face, hardened and dark. 

“Who said you could go inside?”

“You said—”

“Uh uh.” He pins you with a fiendish curve. “Lemme see those pretty nails first.” 

Your senses don’t know what to do with themselves. 

How long has Yoongi been hiding this side of him? This demanding, uncompromising side that you wish you knew sooner? Why did he decide to bring it out during the most inappropriate time? 

Because it’s fucking hot, that’s why.

Not only that. It’s also reaching into you and unearthing parts that you wouldn’t dare show anyone else. If you were honest, you’re a bit frightened at the thoughts dripping into your mind, coalescing into a dark, wonderful pool. 

But those little scenarios can wait. Right now, you just want this so-called lesson to go as long as it possibly can.

Slowly, you rub yourself above your sweats, immediately understanding why he made you do this. 

You loathe this. Complete pleasure is miles away, and yet right there. 

Fucking hell, you’re already embarrassed at how sensitive you are. Will he force you to try and come this way? Is that even possible?

Well. You can’t truly rule anything out when it comes to him. 

Silently, you beg him to not let that be the case, already angry as if it was. 

Yoongi chuckles, and you can’t help but shudder at his low scratchy tone. 

“You mad?”

“Yes.” 

“Good. Stay that way.” 

You growl, throwing your head back and rubbing in aggravating circles, trying anything to get the friction your lust desires. Your mouth forms shapes until words fit through, and Yoongi responds to a plea you didn’t know you uttered,

“Please what?”

“Please…” You breathe harsh. “Lemme take them off.”

“Why should I?”

“Let me do it and I’ll show you.”

“Pass.”

“Fuck you,” you grit out, groaning in annoyance when he chuckles with little pity. 

If you had to guess what would happen on this trip before going, you would never have chosen anything close to this. Laid out on an armchair, shamefully rubbing yourself through your pants while your brother’s friend watches? What kind of fucking universe did you stumble into?

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

In your haze, you open bleary eyes and ask, “Huh?”

“Shirt off.” 

Shit. You didn’t even hear him. “But my pants—”

“Don’t care.” 

Oh, you hate this Yoongi. And you love how outright feral he’s making you feel. 

Fingers shaking, you raise your shirt up, and he hums when you reveal a braless chest.  

“All the way off,” he commands with gravel in his words, and groans in approval when you follow instructions.

When you fling the shirt towards him, he doesn’t move an inch as it reaches his shoes. 

And as he stares down at the material, something stirs in your belly, and you’re quick to wonder where any and all if this rebellion is coming from.

Maybe it’s the painfully obvious tent he has in his pants. Or the ravenous, subtly proud look in his eyes anytime you act out. 

Either way, you wanna ride this wave as far as it carries you. 

“Now what,” you bite, cunt throbbing as you keep trying to find euphoria through thick cotton. 

“Nothing until I say so.” 

“Please,” you beg, huffing hard from pleasure being kept at arm’s length. 

Why the hell is he taking his sweet time? He’s not even supposed to look at you for too long around your brother, and yet here he is fucking you with his eyes as you writhe in a chair. Doesn’t he know he’s on severely borrowed, stolen time?

“Please what?”

Breath ragged and chest heaving, you grunt, “You know what.” 

“I don’t,” he lies. “Tell me.” 

You’re gonna kick his ass. “Lemme take them off.” 

“No.” 

Fucking hell, you can’t take it anymore. Your core aches so hard it’s starting to coax tears, and you know that he’s fully aware and not doing a single thing about it. 

Screw it. You need this, you’re pissed, and you can be difficult, too. 

“Fine then.” Against his orders, you slip defiant fingers into the band of your pants.

“Careful.”

“Pass.” 

His whole face glowers as you offer a devilish expression of your own, slipping your hand right into your panties and rubbing exactly where you want to. 

Finally. 

Pleasure throws your head back as you grasp what you crave, and your ass slides to the edge of the cushion as your back arches taut. Lust shoots through you as you launch yourself into space, turned on by the fact he’s watching you out of all control. 

Are you already this close? How?

Why isn’t Yoongi—

As soon as you open your eyes, you come face to face with him, both of his arms caging you in on each armrest. 

And he looks delightfully pissed. 

Grabbing your wrist, he warns with thick anger, 

“Do that shit again and see what happens.” 

Honestly? You kinda want to. 

But you hear a sound, so your thoughts derail as you snap your head towards the door. 

Your chin is grabbed. “I’m watching, baby girl,” he whispers, making your head spin with how soft he suddenly became. With a passing thought, you just realized that he hadn’t even been using names until then. “Don’t worry.” 

You nod, and he lets you go, reverting back immediately,

“But since you wanna fuck yourself so bad, I might just head out anyway.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you hiss, moaning when your scalp is tugged back. 

“Then do as I say,” he orders, releasing you fast. “And take those off.” 

He doesn’t need to tell you that twice. 

Lip bitten, you stare up at him while slowly slipping off your pants, underwear coming off with them in a pile at your feet. 

As soon as they hit the ground, your legs are pried open again, and you whimper before he commands, 

“Who said you could stop?”

Fuck. 

Gulping, you feel strangely powerful despite being the one with no clothes on. Even though he’s the one towering over, you have a feeling he’s trying hard as fuck to keep himself in check. 

And it’s making you want him more than ever. 

So you continue fingering yourself, his stare chilly and warm at the same time on your bare skin. Your nipples pebble under his attention, and your whines fight through your pressed lips as you get closer and closer to climax.  

“Fuck, the things I wanna do to you,” Yoongi growls, his hand coming up to cradle your face. 

Looking up, you’re sure you look pitiful when you ask, but you can’t help it. “What things.” 

“Wanna fuck your throat.” You whimper into his palm before he sticks a thumb inside your mouth. “Paint this pretty face.” 

Holy fuck.

You moan as tiny as you can muster, cunt pulsing around your fingers and making your eyes roll up.

A snicker erupts before Yoongi smothers your saliva across your cheek, “What’s on your mind?” 

“You.” 

“What about me.” 

And you feel it. Your defiance. Coming out once more before you can even stop it, “Being put in your place—” 

Your throat is snatched in a dime, and you clench when he threatens, “Do it. You won’t.” 

Gurgling, you surprise both of you with a laugh. “I like it, you know,” you choke out, and he’s so confused that he unhands you. 

“Huh?” 

“When you’re mad,” you admit, fingers stopping in between your folds when Yoongi tilts his head with a cautious smile. 

Unprompted, he lets out a tiny laugh of his own. There’s a bit of worry in his voice when he checks in, “You okay, doll?” 

Huh?

Immediately, you assure him with knit brows. “What? Yeah, why?”

He leans down, and you’re regarding him with a strange look as he looks from one eye to the other. 

What’s he doing? Did you do something wrong? 

“Just thought I lost you for a sec,” he finally explains. “Which I would love to see, but not tonight.” 

See what? You’re thrown off guard for a second as you blink. “Oh. No, I really do just like making you mad.” 

He laughs before kissing your head. “I can see that. Punk ass.” When he lifts your chin again, he makes sure with a quiet, “You wanna keep going?”

You don’t know what he means about losing you, but he seems to be back in a comfortable state. And since you’re sure he’ll tell you more about it if you ask, you decide to leave that question for another time. Another night when there isn’t risk and danger right next door.

That knowledge is potent enough.

When you nod, Yoongi makes you answer him verbally, so you confirm, “I do, baby.” You sit up high to kiss him before assuring again, “Do your worst.” 

He immediately grins, shaking his head before slipping into a toe-curling smirk. “Nah,” he declines, winking when you pout. “Not like this.” 

Eyes wide, you wonder, “Are you really just gonna watch the whole time?”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel bad.” Staring at the hardness in his pants, you offer, “At least let me suck you off.”

He only tsks. “Have you earned that yet?”

“I dunno but I know you want it.” 

A tongue prods his cheek. “You’re too good at this.” 

Proud, your smile is wide in response. And you salivate when you hear the clinking of his belt, knowing he’s gonna be a menace during this part, too.

“On your knees then, baby girl.”

You slide off the chair, feeling all your essence between your legs as you sink to the ground. When he only unzips to free his cock, you groan at what appears in front of you, wanting it—needing it—to split you in two.

But you don’t think things will get to that point. This is already pushing the hell out of it, so him plowing you into next week is out of the question. 

This fact is probably why he decided to bring you to the chairs in the first place. That coupled with the fact that it’s on the further side of the room from his shared space with your brother. 

How can he think straight while you’ve been a mess? Your vast difference in experience hits you out of nowhere every time. 

“Go ahead then,” he taunts, and you snap out of your daze. “Let’s see it.”

Rolling your eyes, you internally bite back while taking his weight in your hand, licking his tip before taking him in. 

When he curses, you slide your gaze up his torso, reveling in the way he’s already shifting his jaw.

He’s gonna eat all of his words.

Sliding your mouth back and forth, you make a few passes before releasing him to spit, coating him with your saliva before going again. With your other fingers busy on your clit, you feel the dirtiest you’ve felt in a long time.

And you love it. 

“Fuck, doll.” 

You preen, taking more of him in each time and pumping his base with equal rhythm. You lodge wet digits into yourself the same way, and imagining him both in your guts and in your mouth drives you to the very edge.

Fuck, you really are about to come like thi—

“Hands off,” he says out of nowhere, and you pause for him to clarify, “On your thighs.” 

Wait, no! “But I’m—”

“Now.” 

Fucking hell! 

You know he’s enjoying making you mad, too. There’s no way he’s not having the time of his life. 

When you plant wet palms on your legs, you keep sucking him off, realizing that this is just as hot as what you were doing before. Fuck.

But he takes his cock out with a pop, smacking your cheek before sliding it back into your mouth. As you let out a high whine, he praises,

“So cute like this.” He doesn’t explain further, but falters with a moan before laughing to himself. “Hustling the shit out of me.”

Mouth stuffed, you can only hum in reply. Which only makes him fold forward and curse under his breath. 

Your fingers dig into your thighs, wanting to pleasure both you and him instead of being useless. It’s taking all of you to follow orders while your cunt is throbbing impossibly hard. 

And he finally reaches to fondle your tits to push you over the edge that knock was on your door. 

Wait.

That knock was on your door. 

“You in there?”

And that’s your brother oh FUCK!

While you rush up to stand, Yoongi’s already shoving clothes into your hands and moving away in a flash, and you’re mortified and wondering where he should hide. 

Hide! Like some high schoolers! 

Panicked, you tremble as you attempt to dress, letting the blare of the television respond to your sibling instead. 

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Yoongi’s done for you’re in deep shit this trip is gonna go sideways real quick. 

When you look his way, he’s already next to your bed on the other side of the room, not moving to open the sliding door. 

What is he doing?

“Did you leave?” 

Talk, for heaven’s sake! “N—No, hold up!” 

“Okay, thought so. Hurry up!”

When you shake your head at Yoongi, all he does is try to smother a cheeky grin—which you immediately reject with a swat down of your hand. 

What the fuck is he thinking! 

Never mind that. You don’t have time for this because your room smells like arousal and cologne and it’s not subtle in the least.

Dashing to your bathroom, you come up with the stupidest plan and hope to every higher power that it works. 

“Are you taking a shit?”

Oh, god. Grabbing perfume, you yell out, “No, just wait! Goddamn!”

“God, you always take so fucking long.” 

When you pop back into your bedroom, you catch Yoongi pinning you with amusement, almost telling him to shut up out loud. 

Why the fuck does he look so hot you need to focus! 

You point down with force, signaling for him to duck behind the other side of your bed as low as he can. Cursed with a frenzied brain and throbbing core, you spray an ungodly amount of perfume while speeding around the room. 

Chairs, bed, air, neck, tv for no reason, chairs again good enough just get the door.

“I swear if you’re hiding something—” 

You pull the entrance open with a yank, pursing your lips and wondering how you’re gonna send him away. 

But his brows pinch instantly. “Damn, what’s up with the face?” 

Shit, you probably look like a trainwreck. What the hell do you say? Certainly not that you were just sucking off his best friend that’s still very much in the room oh god.

“I was watching something.” 

When he cocks a brow, you figure he doesn’t know what to say to that. Whatever. It’s fine as long as he doesn’t suspect anything—

“Lemme in.” 

“Why?” 

“If you checked your phone, you would know.” He scoffs before moving his way into the doorframe, quickly ignoring your protest. “It’ll just take a sec.” 

You’re too horrified to realize that he doesn’t even take two steps before swatting the air with his free hand. “The fuck? Did you just put on perfume?” 

“Yeah,” you stare with hesitance, trying damn hard to not glance towards a certain hiding place. “Don’t want you judging if it doesn’t smell all nice.” 

“Since when have I ever judged your room? Fuck, turn the TV down.” 

Is Yoongi on the ground next to the bed? Or did he somehow fit under? There’s a small chance your brother will even look there but if he does and Yoongi’s visible you’re gonna perish.

Grabbing the remote with eyes unfocused, you simply retort, “You judge everything.” 

“Touché. But you’re good at this stuff so I need an opinion.” 

Oh, fuck. He’s sitting on your mattress? 

Ironically—hilariously—that’s better than him sitting on one of the armchairs.

Fucking hell, you’re gonna need ten medics. 

As you feel like sinking right through the floor, your sibling opens the laptop settled on his legs. Eyes glued to the screen, he beckons, “Look real quick.” 

Just do it. Don’t act like there’s anything wrong. Don’t give away the fact that he’s severely close to his friend, or the fact that your cunt is throbbing so hard it’s starting to pang.

Body twinging with guilt and paranoia, you gingerly sit just close enough to him, leaning away when you see nothing but the Sun on his computer. “Dude, the brightness.” 

“Sorry. I got all the lights on next door.” 

“And you say my TV habits are to blame for our house bill.” 

“Damn, chill! Okay, so did I do this right?” 

You tilt your head and look where he’s pointing: one chart amongst a smattering of graphs and analytics. “What are you trying to show?”

“Correlation between quarterly earnings and model type.” 

“I mean, that seems pretty straightforward to me.” 

“Yes and no. We’re trying to gauge whether the newer shoe designs have the same longevity.”

Impossible. He should know the answer to that already. “Nothing will beat the OGs.” 

“I know,” he laughs. “Dunks are fucking untouchable right now.” 

“Right? Yoongi has like, fifty pairs.” 

“Huh?” 

Shit. 

“How’d you know?”

Fuck fuck fuck. 

Grasping for a ledge to latch onto, you remind him mid-freefall, “Bro, we give him two pairs every year. You haven’t noticed him wearing ones for every fit he has?” 

It’s not true. Well, the first part is true since your brother gets special privileges, being able to gift Yoongi an exclusive pair for every birthday and special holiday. 

But there’s no way the man wears enough to warrant you saying fifty. 

…Make that twelve medics. 

Your sibling is too quiet for comfort, but he ends up taking the bait. “I mean, maybe. Didn’t expect you to mention him is all.” He moves the cursor on the screen before thinking aloud, “Speaking of, I need to see if he ended up fu—” 

“It looks fine,” you interject. “Data is sound, but I would at least make a comparison with some of the older models around their same length of release.” 

“Good callout.” 

You’re glad that he’s a man of efficiency, because he moves to head out as soon as his question is answered. 

In fact, when you follow him to the door, it’s your curiosity that keeps him a bit longer. “Wait, why are you in charge of this? Isn’t your department…” 

“Yeah, it’s bullshit, dude,” he complains with a shut of his laptop. Nestling it against his hoodie, he explains, “But my partner is out sick, so I figured this would help.” 

Gotta hand it to your brother to be there if you need him. “That’s… really nice of you. Is this why you didn’t go with them?” 

He rubs his neck, a gesture you’ve been very familiar with for years. One he always does when he’s afraid to admit something. “Kinda. It’s due in the morning, but. I knew you weren’t doing anything, either.”

“Ah.” 

“I mean, this trip is cool and all, but holidays aren’t really…” 

“Our thing. Yeah.” 

As he mirrors your melancholic features, he gives a closed smile with no cheer. “Well, thanks anyway. I’ll leave you alone now.” 

“Go to sleep, dude. You’re pretty much done.” 

“Still need to make sure they all get back in one piece.” 

What? Why does he always take on everything alone? “I’ll stay up,” you offer. “You’re exhausted. Just sleep and send that thing in tomorrow.” 

After a moment of contemplation, he surprisingly relents with a yawn and a nod, and you wonder if he’ll follow through. 

For your own sanity, you hope he does. “Night.” You got through this surprise interruption unscathed, so if he would just go to sleep then everything will be—

“Wait.” 

“Huh?” 

“Your shades are open.” 

Spinning, you notice with fear that the curtains are still pulled to the side. Something both you and Yoongi must not have noticed in your haste. 

Oh. 

That’s right next to your bed. 

If Yoongi’s on the ground—

As your brother strides over, you try to stop him, “It’s fine!” 

He frowns over his shoulder. “What? No. You don’t want people creepin’ on you.” 

Your heart can’t keep a rhythm as he reaches the sliding door, pulling the curtains closed before glancing at the space next to your bed. 

What… What’s happening? Why’s he just standing there?

Voice tight, you ask, “You good?” 

“Yeah, I’m good…” Looking at you, he questions with a point, “When did you get that?”

You freeze, your heart pounding when you realize that Yoongi didn’t grab the jewelry pouch resting on the mattress. 

Upping the number of medics you need to fifteen, you flounder, 

“I— Got something at the jeweler.” Lamely waving one hand in the air, you feign normalcy as you just tell the truth. “When we all went together.” 

“You did?” He mercifully moves away from your bed then, heading back past you and towards your door. “Should’ve told me. I wanted to get something, too.” 

“It was a last second thing,” you tack on with a cringe, attempting to appear merely playful and not like your soul is leaving your mortal confines. 

“Ah, k. Well, I’m thinking of grabbing that Octomore I saw at the liquor store anyway. I can’t find it back home.” He finally makes his way to the exit, grabbing the knob with his free hand. “See you tomorrow.”

He closes the door with a soft click after you say goodbye.

And you let out the biggest breath you’ve ever held.

Holy shit. 

That was fucking close.

There’s no way he couldn’t hear your heartbeat bumping against your chest, right? Or did your body just give up entirely and flatline that entire time? 

“You talk about me like that?” 

Fliching, you clutch your chest before swerving around to battle Yoongi’s smugness with a glare. “You wish,” you whisper with bite, heart palpitations shaking your words on the way out. 

“Now I wanna know.” 

“Shut up.” Damn, your cunt really aches now with the adrenaline fading, and your face finally falters when you lean forward. “Fuck.” 

Yoongi’s there before you can blink, fully concerned. “What’s wrong?” 

“It hurts, baby,” you whimper. “I need you.” 

When he understands, a low curse shoots out. “Fuck, my condoms are in the room.”

“I have some.”

His eyebrows ascend. “You do?”

“Yeah,” you admit as you walk over to your suitcase. “Just in case we got to… Yeah.” 

“Same.”

You grab a packet from a hidden pouch before tossing it, and Yoongi catches it with ease before asking low, “You sure, babe?”

In return, you nod, because the ache is so overwhelming that you can’t think straight. All you need is the man next to the bed stripping quick, and you follow suit until he interrupts you with a soul-snatching kiss. 

Your hands are frantic as they grip his chest, his shoulders, the base of his hair. Breathing takes a backseat as you keep claiming his mouth, and he’s just as possessive with your lips as he grunts into your throat. 

“We gotta keep it down.”

“Mmhmm.” 

“Good girl.” 

After you slip into the bed, he’s close behind, kneeling while finally wrapping himself with deft fingers. 

Your body is thrumming with excitement as he positions himself between your legs, feeling comfort in his bare skin on yours while he pulls the covers over his back. 

A thought occurs to you as he whispers, “You ready?” 

And it’s how you can be anywhere in the world, in any situation, and yet feel so at home if he’s there. “Just for you,” you whisper, suddenly overcome with something more than yourself. 

He nods before reaching down, grabbing his cock to slide along your folds. “Breathe for me.” 

You nod, face scrunching as soon as he enters. 

As soon as Yoongi senses your discomfort, he stops, instead sliding fingers along your cunt before rubbing your swollen bud. 

“Missed you,” he admits, and you agree with your eyes as you fight back a moan. “So fucking much.” 

“Me, too.” You close fingers around his flexed biceps. “And I messed it all up.” 

You don’t really refer to anything specific. Because in your mind, you just messed things up in general. But Yoongi slowly shakes his head as he claims your lips, pleasuring your folds with a tenderness that blows your mind. 

“None of that,” he murmurs, and you swallow as he moves to insert his cock once more. 

You noticed with admiration that it’s much less of an intrusion this time, him slotting into your center with more ease and almost instant relief for your pulses. 

And just like that. 

He’s inside you. 

And your brother is right next door. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper, inexplicably on the verge of heightened euphoria already. “I’m—”

“Holy fuck.” 

“Yoongi, I—” You’re gonna come already. What the fuck you’re already gonna come? You knew you needed him to ease the ache but you didn’t expect just his ridges resting in your folds to be all it would take. 

“Doll—” 

“Hey!” 

Chills run through your veins, icing your heart over in one swoop. 

Because that was your brother. 

Yelling with a knock from the other side of the goddamn wall. 

…Did he hear you?

The universe can swallow you now.

Petrified and with one foot in the grave, you lock eyes with a Yoongi caught just as off-guard. 

What do you do? What do you do what do you do what do you do?

Blood sucked from every inch of your body, you simply yell back to your ceiling, 

“Yeah…?” 

“Getting food! You want anything?” 

Oh, what the fuck.

You’ve never experienced a more frightening rollercoaster. 

Relief is both fast and yet not enough to calm your racing heartbeat. Trying not to look at Yoongi’s growing grin you can absolutely sense, you shout, “No, I’m good!” 

“K!” 

Holy fuck. 

What in the fuck is happening right now!

“Seriously, check your phone once in awhile, geez.” 

“Good night!” you holler back in response, hoping, praying, begging that it’s the end of a conversation you never, ever wanna have again. 

When you think you hear your brother shut his door, your eyes finally seek Yoongi, who indeed breaks into a shit grin while you try your absolute hardest not to laugh in utter disbelief. 

Because what the fuck just happened! 

“Oh, my god,” you whisper before covering your wild smile with both hands, one laugh escaping your throat. 

Yoongi has to bury his head into your chest to stifle his own, and his body shakes over yours so deliciously that you feel like staying in this position forever.  

You almost cry from your muffled laughter, but it’s Yoongi that makes the next sound. 

And it is not quiet. 

“Baby,” you warn through your grin, and he digs his face deep into your neck while holding you close.

“Stop being so fucking cute,” he groans into your ear. “I might not make it, doll.” 

“Just stay like that.” 

“Uh uh.” He grunts when you laugh again, and he slightly breaks. “This is worse.”

When you chuckle at his predicament, he groans,

“Fuck.” 

“I’m not even doing anything!” you whisper with a smile, and he thoroughly disagrees with despair.

“Yes, you fucking are.”

You think you’re starting to get what he means, because with one twitch of his length, your jaw goes slack. “This—this feels really good.” 

He hisses before breathing onto your skin. “I’m gonna bust if I don’t move.” 

“Just a—little longer,” you gasp, straining your ears to hear any sounds from downstairs.

All you have to hear is the front door close. Once you hear that, you know the coast is clear and Yoongi can teach you all the lessons he wants. 

But holy fuck, this feels fantastic. 

“Babe—” 

“Hold—Hold on,” you breathe, your cunt thrumming around him with pulses so big you have to physically block yourself from coming. After being pulled back from orgasm multiple times tonight, the ache is once again making you crumble. 

But you hear it. 

The front door opening. 

Shutting after a few dreadful seconds. 

And Yoongi breaks down beautifully when you give him the tiniest go-ahead. 

“Fucking finally.” 

The way he rocks into you makes you moan so erotically that even you’re surprised at the sound, your whole body shoved up the bed and an arm flinging back to press against the headboard.  

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, body bouncing with his insistent strokes as he sets the pace at one-hundred from the start. 

And you don’t blame him in the slightest, widening your legs to give him all the room he needs to wreck your shit, eyes shut in bliss as you hand over control. 

When hot lips close over a nipple, you arch up with a whine, and his hands come around your sides to claw love lines in your back. 

“So fucking nice,” he growls, before sliding a tongue to your other breast, licking in a way that has you zooming to the edge of paradise. 

You’re close. You’re already so close and it’s gonna break you into pieces. “Yoongi!” 

And he seems to sense it because he coaxes you straight through to the end. “That’s it, doll,” he guides, spearing so far into you with his last command, 

“Fucking come.” 

And come you do, light shooting across your vision as your entire body finally erupts, quivering so beautifully violent underneath him. Nothing exists except how you feel—infinite, limitless, fulfilled. Colors fill where the brightness reigned, and you’re quite sure you’re sailing across a vast ocean of spinning stars. 

But your vision slowly returns, with blurred lines and an image of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

No. Not an image. 

Someone very real, and someone looking at you like they want nothing else. 

“Baby,” you plead, feeling the lust and desire and something even more dangerous rise back to the surface. Because you want more. You need more. “I want… I want—” 

He kisses you deep, and you grip onto his chains. “What do you want, love.” 

“You. Fuck me. Teach me. Do what you want, just”—you pull him in—“I need this—”

Your arms are gripped before they’re pinned above your head just like before, and Yoongi wastes no time in thrusting forward, claiming your lips before you let out a sob. 

His strokes are much harder, much rougher, and they’re exactly what you want. You don’t know when the hell your brother is coming back, so you want to make the most of whatever time you have. And this is exactly what you need. 

Sparks alight in your bones, you tug on his hair, grunting his name and suddenly clamping onto his hips like a vice. 

And he moans in a higher pitch before hissing, surprising you with a goad, 

“Just like that.” 

“Huh?”

“Tug on my shit,” he grits, humming with eyes shut when you yank his head to the side. “Fuck.” 

You’ve forgotten how much he actually likes that, since you apparently go for his hair regularly anyway. But you make it a point to pleasure another part of him, pulling him close and choking him with your other hand.

“More,” you command in his ear, and wings batter your stomach when his curve goes lopsided and his cock twitches in your cunt. 

“Turn around.” 

You groan in want, straining to flip when his cock slips out of your pulsing folds. When your ass comes around, you buck forward with a moan when there’s a sudden bloom of pain. And you whine to the headboard when Yoongi does it again. 

“This fucking ass.” 

You bury your face in the pillows when he takes your cheeks in large palms, molding them before pushing them apart to reveal a view that would make you incredibly shy. 

He lets out a half-grunt, half-hum as he grips your hips, hoisting them up before he grabs a pillow to slide under your belly. When you wiggle your ass, he huffs before slapping his cock against your folds, sliding inside with a frustrated sounding groan.

Pride bursts in your chest when you hear that. Because you’ve heard that one before, and it’s not true frustration. In fact, you’ve let that one out yourself—when you can’t fucking wait to get this man alone. 

Yoongi digs strong fingers into the folds at your hips, and you only get one warning in four words, 

“Bite that fucking pillow.” 

Your teeth close around the case for a single second before you’re open-mouthed, stroke after stroke after stroke making you a useless mess on rented sheets. You don’t even know if you’re saying your thoughts out loud or not, but they’re gibberish anyway, broken syllables and a repeating of his name—over and over and over again. 

Suddenly, a hand closes around your mouth, and Yoongi’s chains slide along your back when he hisses in your ear, 

“The fuck did I say?” 

You let out a high hum in response, completely forgetting that you had one job and you failed at it. But the way he still hasn’t stopped ramming into you makes you crumble on the bed, and you revel in this position of him folding you back and shutting you the fuck up. 

Your mouth is freed before your head is pushed down, and your teeth know what to do as you go straight for the pillowcase, your hand coming up to bunch more of the material inside—

Wait what’s—what’s he—oh, fuck! 

Before you know it, your hands are snatched up, pinned against your back as he launches into a furious pace. “Mmm!” 

“Teach you to think I’m not yours.” 

“B—”

“As if I don’t wanna give you my shit—”

“Fu—!” 

“—so you can walk around everywhere with it on.” 

You scream into the pillowcase, arms thumping onto the bed when he mercifully lets your hands go. Immediately, you brace yourself with sore arms while he tugs on your shoulder, bending you back again and showering you with praise. Like how you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, and how you’re taking his dick so well. 

You also have praise for him, but you’re very sure yours will come out as screams if you so much as let up off the cloth material. So you can only whine into cotton, tears streaming down your face in rivers. 

The point. You get it. You get it you get it you understand it so fucking well. 

Apparently, this is something you do say out loud, because you’re released back onto the mattress before Yoongi yanks himself out of your throbbing folds. 

Your body is being turned while your eyes struggle to refocus, drool sliding down your chin as you lay flat on your back again. But you can’t do anything about it because he’s already kissing the shit out of you, one hand on your head and the other forearm making a crater out of the mattress at your side. 

You look like a wreck, but your emotions fare far worse. 

Because Yoongi decides to switch up the pace, going slow enough to make you sob into soft lips rubbed raw.

Praise, reassurance, more praise. All of these things fall on your features and into your ears, and you hold onto him as if he’s your last lifeline. 

“God, I can’t wait to feel all of you.�� 

And that’s when you break completely, knowing that your eyes are closed and knowing that he’s kissing you deep but seeing him and hearing him so clearly. 

You can’t believe you ever doubted him. A whole two days’ worth of self-loathing and regret floods out of your eyes, and your apologies come out in streams.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s on me.”

No, it’s not. All you had to do was ask. You didn’t need to assume shit and there’s no way he could’ve known what you felt unless you told him. 

When you give a vigorous shake of your head, fingers you adore clasp yours, and your hand is pressed into rumpled sheets next to your wet cheek. You’re so caught up and entirely whole that you don’t even realize where you end and he begins, don’t even register that you’re coming again because he’s already made you feel that fantastic. 

But he moans against your mouth before you feel his weight bear down on your chest, and you gently command into his damp strands, 

“Come for me, love.” 

At your whisper, Yoongi relinquishes, coming with force with a bite to your neck—as if that alone would brace himself against the torrent in his own core. Strong arms encase you as he shoves himself inside, and you feel the way he pulses again, and again. And again.

Then everything suspends in the night air. 

When he floats down from his high, his weight is a beautiful burden, and you nestle him into your sweaty chest. Not worried yet about when or how he has to leave, but instead showing him your feelings by running fingers through his hair.

Throat scratched, he tells you that he’s sorry, too.

To which you soothe with a soft, “Don’t be.”

Because you revealed a wound that still hasn’t healed, and he didn’t back away at the sight of it. Instead, he was only upset that it was there in the first place, and proceeded to try and fix it as best as he could.

Who does that? 

Certainly not someone that would hurt you, too.

Yoongi slowly props himself on an elbow to smooth a hand over your tired head. And even though his eyes twinkle with words, he doesn’t utter a single one. 

So neither do you, simply gazing up at your favorite stars and wondering how their beholder outshines every moon. 

“You did so well for me earlier, you know,” he finally says with admiration. “No way you’ve never done that before.”

You simply shake your head, eyes droopy but creased when he smirks in disbelief. 

“What are you doing to me?”

You wearily chuckle before playing with one of his chains, happily reminded that he really got you jewelry, too. 

“Please stay a little longer,” you wish in a wisp. 

And you feel comfort in his surefire, “I will.”

After a quiet, careful cleanup, Yoongi holds you close while you both listen to your TV in bed. 

Your brother had come back while you were both in the bathroom, and the two of you only looked at each other when you heard the next door over close. 

A hushed conversation determined that Yoongi would only stay for a few more minutes, but neither of you bring it up when a whole seventeen of them fly by. 

Instead, he tells you that he knew your brother didn’t do holidays, but he didn’t know you felt the same way about them, too.

You say it’s one of the things you have most in common, but you do kinda want things to be different. Happier. Very much unlike how you felt over the last eight years or so.

“I want them to be memorable in a good way,” you sigh into his bare chest. Content, you realize, “Guess this is a pretty great start.”

Your shoulder is squeezed before you hear a rasp, “Sit up real quick.” 

“Hmm?” When you push yourself upward, Yoongi slowly situates himself against the headboard, and you don’t know where this is… headed… 

He just took off a chain.

“Wait, what are you…” Butterflies fluttering against your ribcage, your breath catches when he drops it into your hand. 

“Keep it.” 

Feeling his warmth lingering on the thin links, you question with everything you have, “…Why?” 

Yoongi simply shrugs. “Just something I wanted to give you a long time ago.” 

“But you already gave me that necklace,” you stutter out, “And apparently went through all that trouble.” 

“Trust me,” he counters, pointing while still planting his hand on the mattress. “You gave me a lot more trouble right before I put that on you the first time.” 

Oh. 

Remembering the night you took him by surprise, you definitely agree with that. 

Speaking of surprises.

“I, umm. I have something for you, too.” 

He blinks twice. “No way?”

Nodding, your smile is big when you slip out of bed, going into your bag and getting out the one thing you bought so far. 

When you hand Yoongi a very familiar pouch, you watch with glee as he opens it, hoping that he’ll like the bracelet with links similar to most of his chains. 

With warmth in your chest, you notice that it best matches the one he just gave you. 

“You weren’t the only one that bought something,” you admit as he looks at you with incredulity. “I, umm. I saw you looking at that and grabbed it. Before we all left that day.” 

“You did that? For me?” 

With just a touch of sorrow, you confess, “I almost kept it for myself after all the… Yeah. But it’s yours. If you want it. Obviously, you can return it if you—” 

He kisses your cheek before whispering, “Thanks, doll.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“I used to have one like this.” 

“What happened to it?” 

He lays it on his fingers while recalling, voice low, “Think it got stolen. But it’s all good.” 

“If someone steals that one I’m coming for them.” 

A huff. “I wanna see that.” 

“Hey now. This wasn’t cheap, punk.” You gently take his wrist, putting on the bracelet as well as you can with your nails—and shushing his playful roasting when you struggle. When you finally clasp it on, you hold up his arm with a smile. “Look! Now we match.” 

He looks at you with eyes that give you the shivers, his expression one that you wanna sear into your memories forever.

And you can’t believe you’ve been so stupid. “I really am sorry,” you apologize with a heavy heart, cradling his fingers in yours. “I should’ve just trusted you.”

“I get why you don’t.”

Your chest pangs as you close your hold. “Stop. I’ll work on it. Okay?” 

“Me, too.”

This man doesn’t need to be bogged down by what affected you before. Besides, he’s miles above whatever quicksand you found yourself in the last time, so there’s not even a reason to compare.

You can do it. If you can try thinking differently about the holidays, maybe this can be dealt with the same way.

Especially with Yoongi. 

…As long as you can keep whatever this is with him up.

It’s reached that point: the one where you both know a line is approaching and you can’t pass it. 

He’s gonna have to leave soon.

So you hold his hand tighter before both of you peel off the covers, getting up and slowly making your way to the door with his lips secured on yours.

“You okay?” he asks when he grabs his dress shirt to sling on, and when you nod, he nods his head before looking at his buttoning.

You watch, silent, as he puts the rest of his things on, wondering if he expected things to go this way. Because you certainly didn’t, and you couldn’t be happier. 

After all, you got to see a side of Yoongi that you had never seen before. Seeing him take complete control, painting his face even darker shades, watching as enjoyed your reactions…

Wait a minute. 

Hold on a dang second!

Eyes narrowed, you pin him with a glare as he finally finishes putting on his shoes. “Hey, wait…” 

“Huh?”

“You wanted to teach me that you were mine… But I never even got my turn. Shouldn’t we have started with me?” 

Oh, that sneaky man.

He grins so smug that you wanna wipe the whole curve off his face, and his wink makes you gasp before whispering in indignation,

“You little—!”

When he bobs his shoulders in quiet mirth, he enjoys the tiny pout you give. “It wouldn’t’ve lasted long anyway.”

“Now you’re just rude.” 

His lip bite is so handsome that you almost miss the dash of shyness. 

Or was that your imagination?

“Maybe next time, doll.”

Ugh. You huff. “Fine.”

Yoongi slides the door open before checking outside. When the area seems to be clear, he turns to give you a quick kiss before making his great escape, and you watch with awe as he silently makes his way down. 

And to think this is the same guy you had heard stories about back then. Behavior as lethal and punchy as a shot of whiskey but his head matured like fine wine.

You slide the door shut with your head full of thoughts.

Eyes going from the chain in your hand, to the wall that separates you from your brother, you suddenly come up with an idea. 

“What did he want again?”

“I think he said Octo-something,” you wonder to yourself, scouring the liquor bottles in front of you while Namjoon and Seokjin search with equal movements.

With all of your big coats taking up the tiny local store, you muse that it may look a bit silly. Or intimidating. Or both.

“He said Octomore,” Yoongi corrects from a few paces away. And your blood runs cold at Jimin’s glance behind him before he smoothly adds, “Pretty sure he would’ve said that, anyway.”

All the medics. You’re just gonna need all of them.

“That’s it,” you concur before letting out a huff. “There are so many bottles, what the hell?”

Namjoon suddenly straightens and leans to the side. “Wait, that’s a scotch, right, Yoongi?” 

“Yeah.”

“Oh, then why are we—” Your eyes follow as the man strides down to the front of the aisle, checking the signs before spotting what he needed to. “Over here!”

Everyone follows him to the shelves labeled Scotch, with Jimin breaking off to see what Taehyung’s looking at under the Wine sign.

If they buy a bottle, there’s no way it’s not finished by the afternoon. 

Once in the correct place, you notice that there are three Octomore choices, all black or grey cylinders with neat branding. 

Great. 

Seokjin’s quick to ask, “Well, which one?” 

“Hmm.” You think hard about what your brother mentioned before, and finally remember after a few seconds, “He didn’t say, but he said he can’t find it back home.”

Yoongi suddenly rotates one of the containers before his question is full of surprise, “They have this here?” 

“What is that?”

“The twelve point two.” He doesn’t elaborate, but his eyes are confident. “It’s this one.” 

“If you’re sure. How much is it?”

“Too much. But we’ll split it like you said.”

“Okay. Let’s hurry so Hobi doesn’t have the car running too long.”

“K.”

When you both leave the aisle first, you miss the look that Jin shares with Namjoon. 

Your brother’s yell is already worth it.

“What! When did y’all get this?”

“When you and Kook were still snoring.”

“Hey, I don’t snore!”

You speak up while an argument suddenly bursts, “You said something about it last night, and I figured, why the hell not? Eight years is long enough to go without a real gift.”

“But how did you know which one?”

“You can’t find that one anywhere,” Yoongi fills in, and your brother smiles at him before looking down at the bottle with soft eyes. 

“Damn. Thank you.”

“You wanna open it? We can all try some.”

You’re met with laughs from both guys, and they give each other a knowing look before your brother shakes his head.

“Y’all would hate this.”

“Really? Why?”

“You know what they say,” he shrugs, going to the kitchen island before popping open the can. “About fucking around and finding out.” 

Something about that statement makes you hot under your cheeks, and you contain your mischievous smile as you slide eyes to Yoongi. 

Who, unsurprisingly, is fighting back a look of his own.

“Will I really hate it?” you question him as the conversation in the living room fills into the kitchen. 

He shrugs. “It’s all subjective, but. You’ll see.”

And see you do three minutes later, with you wincing and coughing as soon as you sip. 

It tastes like nothing you’ve ever drank before. Why are you tasting rubbing alcohol and firewood? Why are you licking a dying campfire with fruit splattered on top?

You must look thoroughly disgusted because everyone is suddenly laughing, and you slowly shake your head before handing the glass to your brother.

“Worst gift ever,” you insult through a wince, getting more reactions and bobbing shoulders.

“Best gift ever.” Your brother sniffs the scotch before humming. “So good.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy.”

When he looks grateful, you think this can be the new tradition instead: him getting a shitty whiskey and you telling him how horrible his taste is. 

And maybe. Just maybe.

You and Yoongi can stand much closer next season.

You still cannot believe last night happened with no repercussions. After a full last day of the trip, you’re still expecting something to blow. But nothing does. 

However. 

When everyone is enjoying the dinner that Yoongi helped Seokjin cook, Taehyung goes to lean on the wall beside you, voice low as he holds his plate, 

“Heard you had some happy holidays after all.”

Watching the other boys chat and laugh around the living room, you shrug before feigning a sigh. “I mean, as much as I could.” Turning, you apologize, “Sorry about your leg, by the way.” 

He laughs under his breath, and you shoot him a look before his smile turns sly. 

“Don’t even worry about that.”

And your heart stops as he goes to whisper in your ear,

“Jimin and I came back when your brother left. You thought he left you in the house alone?”

You freeze.

The front door.

That’s why it took awhile to close.

Your best friend sounds downright devious as he speaks again, and you can positively say you’ve never heard him like this before, 

“I gotta say… I get it, babe.” 

He smirks while looking away.

“Y’all sound fucking hot in bed.” 

-

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fin. :) 

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how was ittt !! 💌 would you like to buy me a 🍊?

A/N: AHAHAHA SO... how did it go? how did the special that shouldn’t have ever happened turn out? lmfao i really hope you all liked this one. if not, i am so so sorry and you can yell at me. if you liked it, yell at everyone that sent in messages about the window scenario including window anon pfft. also, nicki got the gift of his chains right !! also octomore 12.2 is really desserty!  A/N 2: made a separate blog just for 3tan if you wanna follow @threetangerines​ <3 it’s 3tan unfiltered, so any absolutely filthy asks you would like to send, go ahead and let loose over there! also, the kofi is for any support you would like :D pls don’t feel pressured unless you truly wanna support me in that way and if you’re in a good position to. i appreciate anything i receive there!  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist 

[heliads]

Hello may i request a Thomas ( oh original ! ) the maze runner imagine ? when the reader had a childish spirit in the glade, always smiling, bubbly, friendly toward everyone. But in the scorch, she is a different person, she is more violent with words less affectionate and she is pessimistic. Thomas discover her change of personality and decide to confront her about it. Thomas and the reader are together. (Angst and fluff maybe)

Ps : HAPPY HOLIDAYS 🎄🎁🫶

happy belated holidays!! the true gift is thomas

masterlist

Thomas has seen a lot in the meager few months he remembers being alive. There’s the Maze, of course, the terrifying behemoth of stone and ivy enclosing life as he knew it inside massive walls. There were the Grievers, sickening creatures. Thomas can still hear the screams of his friends being torn to pieces by those beasts. There were also the graves of past Gladers who lived and died without ever escaping. He saw enough loss to know the costs of surviving.

One of the worst sights Thomas has ever experienced, however, might have to do with what living did to his friends. They’re all shell-shocked in some way; Minho laughs less, Newt’s eyes grow weary, Teresa becomes more restless by the hour, but the worst of all is Y/N. Y/N, who brightened all their days back in the Glade with her relentless optimism, who has now become some cold version of the girl they all care for. That might be the deadliest blow of all.

Thomas has always liked questions. The other Gladers could tell him that much, what from the way he used to never stop asking about the most benign details of the Maze. Thomas has never had much to hold against the truth:  as long as curiosity is his best friend, he doesn’t get stuck in that ugly, familiar pattern of giving up before answers are found.

Right now, though, Thomas thinks that he would prefer to shut his eyes again. If he blocks out the world, if he pretends that everything is fine and nothing has changed at all, maybe everything will go back to normal. Maybe he’ll wake up and Y/N will be just the same as ever.

The change happened slowly, piece by piece and fracture by fracture. The Scorch ruined them all, that much is clear, but it did something worse to Y/N. She stalks through the desert like a predator waiting to hunt, and when they face something or someone they have to fight, she becomes a person Thomas has never seen before. She loses some part of herself with every bit of danger that crosses her path. At some point, there will be nothing left, and that is what scares Thomas the most.

She wasn’t always like this. Thomas only had a brief period in the Glade before things turned sour, or at least more sour than life trapped within the stone walls of the Maze with no memories save his own name. In that short time, though, Thomas met Y/N, and he liked what he saw enough to fall in love.

It was easy, falling. Easier than breathing. Easier than dying. She laughed, and the world laughed with her. Thomas watched as Runners dragged themselves out of the Maze, burned out on what their meager lives had to offer, but one conversation with Y/N had them smiling like nothing was the matter. She was the only one who could talk Gally out of a foul temper every time he wanted to start a fight. Well, every time but one, down in the depths of the ruined W.I.C.K.E.D. structure, but no one likes to think about that.

Even Thomas, terrified out of his mind that nothing made sense when he was certain that it should, wasn’t immune to Y/N’s optimism. He remembers sitting with her out on the grass, watching the sun set. There were moments on Bonfire Night when he knew he would give her the world, and early mornings just before he set out for the Maze in which one look her way gave Thomas the courage of thousands of men.

It was good back then, and Thomas wishes he had the hindsight to appreciate that before they escaped. Something happened in between their journey out of the Maze and the present day, something to turn Y/N’s ever-present grin into a deadly glare. She doesn’t smile like she used to, she doesn’t smile at all. It’s rare that she’ll speak more than a few words at a time, and those are always tinged with a foreign cruelty.

Thomas has racked his brain about a thousand times, searching for clues he never picked up to explain the change in Y/N’s behavior. Every time, though, he comes up short. If Grievers and memory loss couldn’t shake her, why this? What do the shifting sands of the Scorch hold to torment her so?

He still holds out hope that maybe they’ll make it to a safe place and Y/N’s fierce temper will leave her. One day far in the future, Thomas could wake up to her laughing just like before. It could be alright. The others have given up on that, but Thomas holds on.

Then again, the others don’t share in the love that Thomas feels for Y/N, so maybe that explains it. He’s heard the Gladers murmuring when Y/N isn’t around, shunning her cold eyes and curled fists. Thomas wants to defend her, but he gets the feeling that she almost enjoys her new reputation, using it as a shield to block out the rest of the world. If her friends can’t stand her, then surely her enemies will all but run the other way.

They need to count on her loyalty, though, and given all the changes to Y/N’s character, Thomas knows the others doubt even that. There is no time for second guessing friends turned into foes, there are already far more villains than anyone could ever need.

The small, struggling group of Gladers has to pass through a section of a Flare-ravaged city. Skyscrapers that must have been impressive once upon a time are broken and bloodied by rust now, bits and pieces disappearing by the day. The metal has lost its shine, the glass stripped of all but its ability to cut through flesh like butter. Everywhere Thomas looks, he sees places where maniacs could hide, or sharp chunks of debris that could be used as weapons. 

It’s not on his bucket list of dream destinations, to say the least, but they have no other choice. Circumnavigating this broken metropolis would take them days they don’t have. If they don’t reach the hideout of the Right Arm in time, they’ll all die in this godforsaken desert. The Gladers can risk a few Crank attacks if it means making it to a source of potential allies.

That’s what they tell themselves, at least. Still, Thomas doesn’t miss the way the group draws into itself, shoulders brushing against shoulders as they pretend they’re not half so scared as they actually are. Every time the wind whips around a desiccating office building, sending rivets and bolts scurrying down the road, everyone jumps about a foot.

One uneasy night and day later, they’re almost out. Thomas has just started to formulate the trembling hope that they might be able to pass through without incident when he starts seeing things out of the corners of his eyes. Shadowy creatures jump back into obscurity whenever he cranes his head for a better look, but the second Thomas redirects his gaze towards the road ahead, they creep back out again.

The others see it too, Thomas can tell. They all shift closer and closer together until they’re practically walking into each other with every step. Still, it’s better than the alternative. Somehow, he gets the feeling that naming those silhouettes aloud would finally allow them to charge.

Even with the maintained silence, the figures in the shadows don’t care much for inactivity. The bounds of the city are just in sight when the shapes start making noise. The streets echo with it, a cacophony of clicks and jeers, howls and coughs. The unearthly symphony makes Thomas shudder, cold slicking over his spine like fingers made of ice.

Thomas just has enough time to think that it sounds like a war cry when the silhouettes give up their lurking and pounce. Cranks appear out of nowhere, sprinting towards the Gladers with all the speed that complete and utter insanity gives you. Thomas sees some figures so damaged by time and the elements that bones poke out of their legs, but they still run like they’re competing for a national title.

Minho shouts for everyone to go, go, but it’s not like anyone wants to stick around. The Gladers hurl themselves towards the city limits; most Cranks are territorial, they give up the chase once prey heads further into the desert. That’ll be their only hope. Thomas picks up the rear, dragging friends forward when they stumble and praying that they all make it.

This side of the city is surrounded by a low wall, most likely to keep Cranks out. Now it just serves to keep sane humans in. Minho turns towards a section that’s started to crumble and jumps up with ease, perching on top to start hauling people over. It’s slow going, though, and the Cranks aren’t giving up their chase.

Thomas picks up a fallen piece of metal scaffolding by his side, swinging it experimentally like a baseball bat before turning to face the oncoming mass of Cranks. The first few go down easily, but the numbers aren’t in his favor. Someone joins the fight on his side, thankfully, and Thomas dodges a blow before turning to see who’s sticking their neck out to keep the creatures at bay.

To his surprise, it’s Y/N. She faces down the Cranks, expression grim but determined. She also wields a chunk of debris, and Thomas watches as she impales a nearby Crank before finding another victim. Thomas has a vague, fleeting memory of Winston joking about how Y/N always got totally grossed out by the amount of blood the Slicers had to deal with. Now, she’s chopping through Cranks like they were those same farm animals doomed to the blade.

Minho shouts to the two of them, and they abandon the fight to scale the wall as well. Once in the desert, the Gladers continue running, but they slow down once it’s clear that the Cranks won’t be following. Hands on his knees, Thomas catches his breath. He looks over at Y/N, searching her face for some sign of kindness. After all, she just risked herself to protect him against those Cranks.

All he sees, though, is that same blank pessimism that’s come to haunt him. Y/N catches him looking and eyes him coolly for a moment before deciding that even the endless sands hold better entertainment and turning away. Thomas is left to wonder why she would care enough to save his life but not enough to reward him with a smile.

Dusk rushes upon the land, making further travel impossible. The city had been in their way, and now they’ll need the light of morning to illuminate where they should travel next. There are a few buildings past the wall, twisting remnants of the city. Thomas recommends that they stay the night in that shelter, as it’s the best they’ll get for a while. Even after he closes his eyes, Thomas swears he can still feel the shadow of the infected city looming over him, practically breathing down his back.

It makes sleep impossible, to say the least. Eventually, Thomas gives up on fidgeting from side to side in the hopes of unconsciousness and quietly gets up, retreating to another hall in their temporary hideout to refrain from waking the others. His pulse skyrockets when he hears a noise, but he’s able to settle once it grows obvious that the source is not a Crank but another Glader. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one unable to fall asleep.

Thomas draws closer to the source of the sound. He heads into a nearby room and spots a silhouette crouching in the corner. A broken out window lets moonlight race through the cracks and towards the other occupant. Thomas blinks, and he realizes it’s Y/N. Y/N is not doing well, though. Something is wrong. The tones of her skin are different, darker in places than expected.

It’s hard to see, what with the shadows still pressing ominously around everything, but Thomas thinks– yes, it is, that’s blood covering almost half of her body. The scarlet stuff is practically painted on her, palms up to the elbows, dotting her face like gruesome freckles. He realizes that she must have gone back to the city and rid it of its mad occupants once and for all.

Y/N is staring back at him now, daring him to say something. Thomas swallows hard and tries not to sound too horrified. It’s not an easy task.

“I’m not sure it’s the best thing to be so covered in Crank blood,” he manages to choke out at last.

Y/N just laughs. It’s a bitter, harsh sound, and it reminds him a little too much of the shrieks and giggles of the infected. “I’m immune, Thomas, it doesn’t matter. They can’t do anything to me but die.”

“Still,” Thomas begins, but his courage fractures. Still, she shouldn’t tempt fate by being so careless around potential pathogens. Still, she shouldn’t be this far removed from someone Thomas knew without even falling victim to the Flare.

Y/N stands slowly, and it takes everything in him for Thomas to not flinch. “Go ahead, judge me. Say what you want. I know you and the rest have been too afraid to mention it to my face, but you can’t keep it back forever. You hate me. You’re scared of me. Just say it.”

Thomas shakes his head. “I’m not scared of you. I just miss you.”

Y/N spreads her arms. The gesture is meant to be welcoming, but Thomas can’t stop staring at the blood dried across her skin. “I’m right here, Thomas. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“You have,” he whispers back, “the girl I met back in the Glade, she’s gone. I think you left her there. I don’t know who you are anymore, but she’s not my friend.”

Y/N draws back as if slapped. “I’m still me. You might not like it, but I’m me. I changed to survive. We all did. It’s not my fault if you want to keep clinging to an illusion. This is who I have to be if I want to live.”

“And what about the inhabitants of that city?” Thomas asks pointedly, “Didn’t they want to live?”

Y/N gives him a cross look. “They wanted to live before they became Cranks. I’m making sure people who come after us will find a safe place to hide from everyone else. You can go on believing in fairytales, but at least one of us had to grow up. Maybe it had to be me.”

Thomas sighs, the ghost of the sound circling the two of them on disappointed, broken wings. “I don’t want to believe in fairytales, Y/N. I just want to believe in you.”

“Then do it,” she says softly.

“I wish I could,” Thomas replies.

It’s quiet for a minute. Thomas thinks she might hate him. Then, her voice comes again, barely discernible in the darkened room.

“Did you love me?” A pause. “Back in the Glade. Did you love me then?”

Thomas’ throat feels tight. “I loved you then, and I love you now. I just need to know that you’re not going to leave.”

“Not more than I have, you mean,” Y/N corrects.

“Yes.” Thomas puts it plainly.

They both know what it means, how far Y/N has gone from the girl he once knew. For once, though, Thomas thinks that he might have made some headway in correcting her course.

Y/N stares at her hands, starting to rub them together as if trying to wash the red from her skin. “I can’t get it out. The blood.”

“I’ll help you clean it,” Thomas answers her unspoken plea, “I’ll help you today, and every other day after that. You just have to let me do it.”

Y/N looks up at him now, and seems to question something before nodding at last. “I will.”

It’s as close as she’ll get to an apology for now. Maybe later, once the dangers settle, they’ll have a better ending. Thomas is happy with this, though. In a world such as theirs, it’s all they can ask for. They can try again.

requested by @hope92100, i hope you enjoy!

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

[marblemoovt]

Christmas Present - Simon Riley/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Fluff with a smidge of hurt/comfort because of misunderstandings.

Summary:

After dating for three years, you get to finally spend a Christmas together with Simon. Things go sideways when he misunderstands your decision to grow your family.

------

You bounce on the balls of your feet. “I have a present for you.” Leaning close to Simon’s ear, you whisper, “you’re a father, now.” The poor man bluescreens on you. His eyes are wide and vacant. You run into the bedroom, your head peeking out the doorway with a grin before disappearing again. You present a wriggling Doberman puppy with a shiny red bow wrapped around its midsection. “Meet our baby!”

Simon is gone. Fuck.

Note:

Hello!! I am so happy I am finally done with this. I really wanted to get this finished in time for Christmas, but I failed to do that. Between work and procrastination, it's hard to get any writing done.

I hope this fluff heals all your souls as it did mine, consider it a belated holiday present :D

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

Was it an impulsive decision? Completely. Was it more of a Christmas gift to yourself than to Simon? Definitely—but how could you resist those eyes?!?

Let’s backtrack a bit. It’s a few days before Christmas. You’re among the general population who do their shopping last minute. Simon isn’t due home until tomorrow, and you want to cook him something nice for dinner. The holiday season never fails to awaken your craving for cinnamon and sugar. You plan on making mince pies and gingerbread cookies for dessert. The cookies also double as a gift for a party that’s happening on Christmas. 

It’s a small party with his coworkers and their families. You practically pestered poor Simon until he gave into your whims, which didn’t take much effort. He grumbled about wanting to stay home to cuddle with you in front of the fireplace, but you pointed out that he could do that at the party. 

Simon will complain and exhibit his apparent allergy to large social settings, but you think he secretly enjoys it. He isn’t keen on interacting with people he’s unfamiliar with. But to exist in a room full of people he likes, who are having a good time… you always notice how his eyes soften. 

That’s your take on it, anyway. Simon is difficult to read sometimes, especially when he’s spacing out. But you like staring into his eyes, deciphering the hidden meaning in their depths. You find the rich coffee colour gorgeous, and he always looks away when you remind him about it. It’s funny watching this giant man try to make himself appear small; he takes up too much space. 

Your lips spread into a fond smile, and you adjust your clothes, the oversized hoodie swallowing your figure. The faint scent of bourbon and cedar still clings to the fabric, and you inhale deeply. Tomorrow. Twenty-four hours. Then you’ll be reunited with the man you love. Oddly enough, this will be your first Christmas together despite dating for three years. Simon was away on a mission for the other two, and a bouquet was always delivered to your doorstep on Christmas morning. The first one consisted of blue salvias, lavender, and forget-me-nots. The second bouquet had red salvias and white carnations. You pressed a few to keep in a scrapbook and dried the rest. The preserved bouquets are in a box you keep in the closet to protect them from the sunlight.

You grab the last item on your shopping list and head to the checkout. Once everything is packed in your car, you decide to warm up with a cup of hot chocolate. There’s a cafe nearby within walking distance. There also happens to be an animal shelter on the way. Sometimes you just can’t resist looking at all the animals, and you often have to force yourself to leave empty-handed. 

But today feels different. Maybe it’s the holiday magic in the air, but when you reach the dog section, all the air is knocked from your lungs. In the first kennel is a small Doberman puppy. And her rich coffee eyes lock your limbs in place. 

A worker notices your interest and walks up to you. “That’s Phantom. All her brothers and sisters have already left for new homes. She’s the smallest of the litter, and that seems to be the main reason no one has adopted her yet.” The puppy wags her little tail at the mention of her name. Your heart melts under the gaze of her eyes, which appear too large for her head.

“Because she’s smaller than her siblings?” you ask. It sounds silly to not adopt a dog based on appearance. Health concerns you could understand, but colour and size? Heck, you would be ecstatic to just have a dog. Although size could be significant depending on your living situation. But still, to not adopt this sweet pup because she’s too little is ridiculous.

The worker’s lips twist into a sad smile. “There are many reasons why people will overlook an animal, and they don’t always make sense.”

Your attention remains fixed on Phantom. Her brown eyes never leave your figure, observing you silently. “How long has she been here?” you ask. She still looks relatively young. You don’t think she’s even half a year old yet.

The worker shuffles through a clipboard hanging next to Phantom’s kennel. “We rescued her mother while she was still pregnant. Her whole life, it seems. The entire litter wasn’t available for adoption until two months ago.” They pause and glance at Phantom with furrowed brows. “Puppies normally get adopted quickly, but she hasn’t been lucky” The sentence sends a hollow pang in your heart that settles heavily in your gut.

“Could I meet her?” you whisper, the words constricting in your throat. You wet your chapped lips and haul yourself out of the deep chocolate ocean.

“Sure.” The door to the kennel is unlatched, and the metal hinges swing with a creak. Phantom sits there and watches you. Afraid to make sudden movements, your remain still and quiet your breathing. She stands up and pads slowly towards you. You crouch down and leave one hand, palm facing up, in front of you. As Phantom draws near, her nose twitches. She eyes you and nudges your hand with her snout. You grin at the wet, ticklish sensation and bite back a laugh. Slowly, you scratch the underside of her chin before moving down to her chest and back.

There’s a gentle woosh of wind, and this time you can’t hold in your delight any longer. A chuckle rumbles through your chest, and the sound of wind grows louder. Phantom licks your fingers and barks. It’s more like a tiny yip, and you are screaming on the inside.

“I think you’re coming home with me,” you mumble and pause. “How am I going to explain this to Simon?” You can picture the disapproving look on his face.

You fill out the adoption papers and exit the shelter with a very excited puppy. Forgetting about hot chocolate, you go to the pet store and buy the basic necessities for Phantom. When you get home, you manage to carry everything into the house while holding onto the leash. Fortunately, Phantom isn’t a puller. She walks beside you nicely and even moves out of the way to avoid the bags of groceries and presents. With great difficulty, you unlock the door and push the handle down with your elbow. You set the bags down and slip off your shoes, shutting the door with your foot.

Phantom immediately begins sniffing around, circling and tangling you with the leash. You laugh at her enthusiasm and reach down to unclip the leash from her harness. With the sudden removal of weight, Phantom bounds across the floor, bumping into furniture and smelling anything she can reach. It’s funny because she’s sniffing so intently that it’s audibly heard—loud too. Her nose twitches, and she buries her snout into a heap of fabric on the ground. One of his shirts you keep on the sofa as a little Simon blanket for when you binge-watch. It must have fallen when you dozed off last night. You accidentally skipped two seasons because the autoplay didn’t stop.

“Let’s find a spot to put your bed.” You grab the circular, foam dog bed and head towards the bedroom. Phantom trails behind you with the shirt sleeve between her jaws. You chuckle and hold the rest so it doesn’t drag across the floor. She doesn’t let go, and it turns into a leash of sorts. The master bedroom has a King size bed. A big bed for your big man. Phantom could definitely fit on it, but you don’t want her to develop a habit of sleeping there until you check that Simon is ok with it. He doesn’t like to share, especially when he has to share you. You place the dog bed next to the bedside drawer. Close enough that Phantom won’t feel left out, but far away enough that she won’t get stepped on in the morning in case you or Simon forget. 

She tugs the shirt with her toward her new bed. You let go, and it falls in a heap and buries the puppy. “Simon blankets are comfortable, aren’t they?” you ask. She lets out a small ‘woof’ and wiggles her head out from underneath. Your smile stretches wide. “Let’s get the rest of your things sorted.” And so you spend the rest of the evening storing toys, placing bowls, everything you could think of when one adopts a puppy. Phantom keeps you company and entertains you with her silly antics. She’s already picked a favourite out of all the toys you bought her, and you silently squeal that night when she curls up in bed with it. You snap a picture, fingers itching to send it to Simon. But you’re not quite ready for his wrath yet. 

In the morning, you awake to scratching and whimpering. You bolt upwards, eyes darting around the room before landing on Phantom at the door. Stumbling out of bed, you rub your eyes and shuffle to the backyard door. Phantom trots outside and sniffs around before settling in a corner to pee. You lean against the doorway and watch as she continues to explore, wrapping your arms around yourself. The familiar cacophony of twitters and chirps starts up. Phantom pauses and tilts her head at the bird feeders set up in the old oak tree. She doesn’t bark but observes silently. 

“You’re a lot quieter than I was expecting,” you mumble. At your whistle, Phantom glances one more time at the birds before heading back inside. “Did you have fun?” Her tail thumps against your calves. You turn into the kitchen and measure out some puppy kibble for Phantom. 

Once she starts eating, you make breakfast for yourself. A simple toast with butter and a fried egg. As the egg is cooking, your phone buzzes against the counter. You jump a little, and even the crunching of kibble pauses for a few seconds before resuming. Glancing at the screen, you see the notification is a text message. The skull emoji sends you grappling for your phone. 

Simon💀: ETA 3 hours from now. Have you eaten yet, poppet?

You bite your lip and grin. Can’t he just say what he means? Your thumbs fly across the screen as you type your reply. 

Poppet🧸: I’m cooking breakfast now. Do you want me to pick you up from the airport?

You hit send and attach a picture of the stovetop. The egg is nearly done, so you turn off the heat, and the toaster clicks a beat later. Your phone tickles your hand, and you eagerly read Simon’s response. 

Simon💀: You got the appetite of a mouse. And negative. I can take a taxi. 

You chuckle and make a mental note to look for the car keys later. 

Poppet🧸: Ok, I’ll pick you up in 3 hours. 

Then you put your phone in silent mode and place it on the counter screen-down. You grab a plate from the cupboards and transfer the finished egg. Rummaging through the fridge, you locate the butter and decide to treat yourself to some marmalade today. 

After eating, you still have 2 and a half hours until Simon’s plane lands. Which leaves you roughly an hour until you need to drive to the airport. With the spare time, you prepare the gingerbread dough since it needs time to chill in the fridge. You combine all the ingredients together and cover the dough in plastic wrap. When you shut the fridge door, Phantom is there beside you, staring at you with her big brown eyes. 

You end up googling a recipe for dog-friendly gingerbread cookies. 

You now have an hour left to get to the airport. Phantom is gnawing on a cookie when you leave her in the bedroom. You bought a kennel last night and didn’t set it up until earlier. Shutting the bedroom door, you grab the car keys off the counter and head outside. 

The weather is dreary as usual. It hardly snows in the winter, but the overcast skies look ready to cry any minute now. You drum on the steering wheel along to the song on the radio. The car hasn’t quite warmed up, and you tug your jacket sleeves down. Your phone goes off again, and you pull over to read the message.

Simon💀: Landing in half an hour.

You switch to the navigation app, and there’s no way you’ll get there on time with the current traffic conditions. Shifting gears, you apply more pressure to the gas pedal than is legally acceptable. Each time you glance at the digital clock in the car, your anxiety spikes. You still clutch onto the belief that you’ll make it on time. The second the next hour passes, the pool of dread in your stomach overflows into the rest of your body. Suddenly it’s too cold and too hot at the same time. You fiddle with the thermostat and turn up the radio, hoping Mariah Carey will drown your irrational thoughts. 

The road sign for the airport comes into view, and you lean back into your seat. Your knuckles regain colour as you loosen your grip on the steering wheel. Changing lanes, you head in the direction of the parking lot. After parking, your shoes thwap against the wet pavement. Walking through automated doors, the buzz of the airport fills your ears. Squeaky wheels from dragged luggage. Thousands of footsteps are accompanied by the indistinct chatter of an entire building of people. But all that noise fades to the background when you spot him. You’re well-trained in the art of Simon spotting, a skill his enemies would be envious of.

It’s hard to describe. When you know someone well—and utterly adore them—you can recognize them with just a glance. That’s how it is with Simon. He always blends into whatever environment he’s in, but that unmistakable warmth that blooms in your chest and pools comfortably in your stomach. It’s like your body has been trained to recognize him.

So when your heart flutters at the brooding, hooded figure in the corner of the cafe, obscured by a potted plant, you know you’ve found him. Rich chocolate eyes meet yours, and they soften ever so slightly. You head to him, your feet stumbling over one another as they bicker over which pace to take. He opens an arm out, and you start running, flying across the ground until you crash into him. Simon steadies you with an arm around your waist. His hands rest on your hips, and he pulls you closer. Bourbon and cedar fill your senses, and you melt into his chest. 

“Been a while,” he murmurs into your hair, inhaling the comforting scent of your shampoo.

You do your best to hug him back and squeeze with all your strength. “I missed you too.”

He pulls back and cradles your face in his hands, drinking in every line and curve. His thumb brushes against the slant of your smile, and his eyes crinkle at the edges. You lean in and peck where his mouth would be. His fingers tighten their hold, and he narrows his eyes at you. Someone drops their bags, and the loud thumps send his eyes snapping in the direction of the noise. He looks back at you, then around the airport, and releases your face. His hand drops and pinches your waist, and you know he’s smirking underneath the baklava. 

“Ordered a drink for you,” and he nods at the table beside him. “Got thirsty waiting and thought you could use one.” You pick up the cup and sniff the lid. The scent of chocolate and whipped cream fills your senses, and you catch the faintest whiff of cinnamon. Taking a sip, the hot chocolate coats your tastebuds with sugar and spices. A small groan escapes your lips, and your fingers curl around the warm paper cup.

“Traffic was terrible,” you say, thinking back to all the vehicles on the roads. It didn’t help that an accident occurred and slowed everybody down.

Simon glances at the watch on his wrist and taps its face. “Half an hour late. You would be terrible at evac,” he muses. There’s a lilt in his tone, so you roll your eyes and take another sip of hot chocolate. Another wave of sweetness rolls down your throat, and your stomach buzzes pleasantly with warmth. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Lucky I’m not in the military then.”

Simon stares at you and says, “What a blessing.”

Hot chocolate dribbles from the corner of your mouth, and you wipe it away with your sleeve. “Oh, shut up, Riley. I bet I would make a damn good soldier.” You straighten your spine and give him a mock salute.

His eyes never leave you, and the silence stretches for a minute or two. “I like the way things are. It’s dangerous out there; don’t need to be lookin’ out for you too.”

The curve of your smile flips. “What? You think I’d be dead weight?”

“Not what I meant,” and he reaches out a hand to you, but you shrug it off. 

“Whatever. Let’s go. I’m not paying for another hour of parking. The airport prices are ridiculous.” You take a sip of your hot chocolate. There’s a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

The drive back home is silent. Neither of you bring up what happened earlier at the airport. The radio is on low volume. Instrumentals of classic Christmas carols play. There’s that feeling of being watched, but your eyes remain on the road. You focus on the nice saxophone solo and not on Simon. The rhythmic tapping of his fingers begins to irk you a little. Still, no words are spoken.

His gaze continues to sear into your flesh, and just when you’re about to implode, Simon speaks first. “I’m sorry,” he says. You don’t respond, only turning off the radio. “What I meant was I don’t want to fear for your safety.” He pauses, and you hear him take a deep breath. “I like knowin’ you’re safe—at least safer here than if you were out on the field.” You pull over the car and shut off the engine. You face him, mouth glued shut. His eyes are glassy, and his brows are drawn close together. “Poppet, I can’t lose you,” and a tear falls. You scramble to unbuckle your seatbelt, clambering over to the passenger seat. Straddling his lap, you pull him into a fierce hug.

The most powerful man you know is clinging to you like he’ll fall apart with a single blow. Like a boat in a storm, desperately trying to survive the waves battering against its hull. You pry your lips apart and force the words to claw out of your throat. “I’m sorry that I lashed out. I haven’t seen you in 3 months and 10 days, but who’s counting?” A watery chuckle gurgles in your throat. “The point is, I’ve been pining like a fool, and when I heard those words, it made me feel like you didn’t miss me at all.”

Simon shakes his head and pulls you closer to his chest. “I’ve seen you flay men alive with a single glare, never mind what you could be capable of with some proper training. But to think about you dyin’ on a mission? ‘specially when I could have saved you? It would ruin me.” He strokes your hair, and you stare into his deep, brown eyes. “And didn’t miss you? That’s a load of bollocks. Poppet, you are constantly with me here,” he points to his head, “and here.” He places your hand over his beating heart. The pulse beneath your palm is erratic. “You’re mine, and I can’t lose you; I refuse to. You’re not dyin’ before me, you understand?”

You exhale and stretch to kiss his forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, Simon. There will be no death for either of us for a long time if I can help it.” His shoulders slacken, and you wipe away a stray tear from his eyes before it has a chance to fall. “I know it deep down in my bones, but it’s just nice to hear you say it sometimes. That you love me or miss me.”

“I missed you, poppet,” he murmurs into your hair.

You mute your chuckle with his shoulder, and he shudders from the vibrations. “It sounds disingenuous when you say it after I tell you to,” you say,

Simon huffs, “Bloody hell. I was tryin’ to be romantic.” Your fingers trail the edge of his baklava, and when he remains still, you roll the fabric up to expose his lips. He watches you with dark eyes. You cup his face with both hands and kiss him. It’s short and bittersweet. As much as you want to continue, you don’t want to stay on the side of the road any longer. If you’re unlucky, a concerned passerby might knock and ask if you need assistance. You would then proceed to die of embarrassment.

So instead, you pull away and whisper, “Are we ok?”

His eyes scan your face before lingering on your lips. “We are if you give me another kiss,” he replies. You lean in to kiss him again, and his hand cradles the back of your skull, keeping you in place. Every time you draw in air, he finds a way to steal it from your lungs. Your head spins from the lack of oxygen, and you don’t even notice the little moans and whimpers you let out. His beard rubs against your skin, and his lips are addicting. Thick fingers dig into your waist. The hand on your head is removed, and you pull away, panting. He gazes at you through hooded lids, pupils swallowed by black.

“I can’t drive the car if you keep me in your lap,” and you wrap your fingers around his hands, prying their grip on you. He relents, and you climb over to the driver's seat. You turn the key in the ignition, and the engine roars to life. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Simon reaching a hand out to you. There’s gentle pressure on top of your head, and you realize that he’s smoothing out your hair. He doesn’t say anything but does one last pet that trails his hand down to cup your cheek, stroking your skin with his thumb before pulling away. Your face already feels cold with the absence of his touch.

Clearing your throat, you turn on the signal light and continue the drive home. As you get closer to your destination, you grow more nervous for multiple reasons. 1) You have no idea if Phantom destroyed anything while you were gone. 2) You don’t know how Simon will react to Phantom. 3) You don’t know how upset Simon will be if reason 1 turns out to be true.

When you arrive, Simon holds the door open for you. You thank him and head inside. He follows after you, and the wheels of his suitcase clack when they catch on the bottom of the doorframe. The house still has traces of cloves and nutmeg in the air, a reminder of the gingerbread dough chilling in the fridge. Simon shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over the couch. Unable to hide it any longer, you decide to show him Phantom right away.

You bounce on the balls of your feet. “I have a present for you.” Leaning close to Simon’s ear, you whisper, “you’re a father, now.” The poor man bluescreens on you. His eyes are wide and vacant. You run into the bedroom, your head peeking out the doorway with a grin before disappearing again. You present a wriggling Doberman puppy with a shiny red bow wrapped around its midsection. “Meet our baby!”

Simon is gone. Fuck.

You sigh and place your child down, watching her sniff the jacket her father left behind on the couch. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you grab your phone. This is not how you wanted tonight to go. You send a few messages, but Simon doesn’t respond to a single one. Although you can see that he’s read them, which pisses you off. He couldn’t have gone far, and you still have the car keys. The closest place nearby that isn’t a house is the small market square, which contains a grocery store and several self-owned businesses. Your boots pound against the pavement,  and you dash through the streets. You reach the square and scan your surroundings. You spot him exiting a store and run up to him.

“Simon!” Your lungs burn, and your heart is rattling in your ribcage. Simon stares at you with wide eyes. His arms reach out to steady you.

“I’m sorry for leaving, poppet. When I heard, I knew I had to,” Simon says. He looks at the ground, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You pant, catching your breath as the winter air stings your throat. You lick your chapped lips and begin to speak. “Simon, I—”

He cuts you off. “But no matter what, I will always—”

You interrupt him because you need to clear up the misunderstanding now. “Simon, I—”

“It’s alright, poppet. I would never—”

Your frustration reaches a boiling point. “I ADOPTED A PUPPY!” Flames engulf your entire face, and you’re positive there’s steam rising off your head. A few passersby stop walking at your outburst, and you shrink beneath their stares. Simon shields your body with his large frame and smooths your wind-ruffled hair. “Simon, I adopted a puppy,” you repeat.

“A puppy?” he rumbles, low and soothing.

You nod and smile. “Yes, a puppy. The cutest one I’ve ever seen.”

He raises a brow. “Walks on four legs, barks, and has a little tail that wags?”

You chuckle. “Last time I checked, yes.”

Simon sighs and leans into you. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot. We left the poor pup all alone,” and he holds your hand and leads you home. 

You struggle to keep up with his long strides. Simon slows down when he notices you falling behind. “She. She’s all alone,” you say.

“Did she come with a name?” he asks.

You answer with, “Phantom.” Simon gives you a deadpan stare. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not messing with you. That’s her name,” you insist. 

“So I suppose it’s all a coincidence?” he snorts. 

You tilt your head. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Squeezing his hand, you chirp, “Then it was a miracle. A Christmas miracle.”

“Poppet, the only miracle I’ll accept is when you walked into my life. Anything else is the harsh reality we live in.” You falter in your steps, stumbling forward when Simon doesn’t notice. He looks back at you, and time freezes. Deep brown eyes gaze upon you fondly, and a chill washes over your body. Behind the indifference is a tenderness reserved only for you. He brushes his thumb across your hand and tugs you into his side. His arm rests around your waist for the rest of the walk home.

You pause in front of the house and tug on his shirt. “I know you said you don’t like pets because they’re a big commitment, but I promise you’re going to love her,” you say.

His chuckle is hollow. “I think you overestimate my ability with animals. Not a bloody chance will she like me,” and you can hear the grimace in his tone.

You unlock the door, and Phantom greets you inside. She circles you and Simon, sniffing your pants. You grin and crouch down, accepting the sloppy kisses she gives you. Phantom races off to the living room, and you find her burrowed in a heap of Simon’s jacket. She must have pulled it off the couch after you left. Simon says nothing but watches the puppy with amusement.

“Go play with the puppy while I bake the gingerbread cookies,” you say, disappearing around the corner. 

Simon trails after you. “Barrin’ me from the kitchen already? I’m a great helper.”

You scoff and block him from entering further. “No. What you mean is you’re great at eating all my cookies before I get a chance to decorate them.” You wave your hands and push him out of the kitchen. His hulking frame budges with remarkable ease. “Now, shoo. I need enough for the party tomorrow.”

Simon raises his hands in surrender and plants a kiss on your head before heading to the living room. You take out the dough from the refrigerator and flour the counter. You roll the dough out until it’s about an inch thick before using cookie cutters in various holiday shapes. Lining a baking sheet with parchment paper, you transfer the cut cookies. You collect the scraps of dough and reroll it.

Simon’s head pops into the doorway. “Poppet, what’s this?” he asks. The plushie of a cartoon ghost with a skull mask looks microscopic in his large hands.

You gasp, “That’s Phantom’s favourite toy! The store was having a clearance sale on all their Halloween stock, and it reminded me of you. I have a picture of her cuddling with it in bed.” You move to grab your phone from your pocket, but your hands are covered in flour and dough. “I’ll send it to you after I clean up.”

Simon says nothing, cradling the ghost plushie to his chest with a newfound tenderness as he returns to the living room. Phantom’s excited yip greets his footfalls, and your smile nearly splits your face into two. You continue cutting out more cookies, ending up with multiple trays worth.

As you place a few trays into the oven, Simon passes by. His footsteps are silent when he typically stomps around to alert you of his presence. He stops when you catch him leaving.

“And where are you off to?” you ask, setting the timer on the oven, careful not to accidentally turn the heat off instead.

Simon shrugs and says, “On a walk,” with an air of indifference.

“Will you carry Phantom in your arms the entire time?” you ask. Phantom’s tail thumps against Simon’s lower abdomen. He’s carrying her like a baby, and she looks at you with her tongue lolling out. “She has a leash, Simon. Use it.” You point to the hooks on the wall where the jackets go, Phantom’s leash being the newest addition.

He looks at the leash, Phantom, then back at you. “Her little paws might get tired,” and he waves one of her paws. 

You shake your head, holding back a grin. “She’s a lot tougher than she looks.” You haven’t told Simon, but anyone with eyes can see that Phantom is small for her breed. 

There’s a glint in Simon’s eyes. “Yeah? Must take after you, then,” he comments. Phantom barks in agreement. You stick your tongue out when he turns his back to you. “I saw that.”

“Saw what?” You feign ignorance. 

Simon grabs the leash and clips it onto Phantom’s harness. He looks at you and shakes his head at the Cheshire grin on your face. “Saw you bein’ a cheeky little thing.”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re on about,” you say with a shrug. “Could you pick up some icing sugar on your walk? I’m running low.”

Simon nods and walks out the door, Phantom trotting dutifully by his side. You bite your lip and lean against the counter. God, you love watching him walk away. 

While the cookies bake, you pass the time by window shopping online. Specifically dog products. You’re in the middle of reading the product description for dog thongs—who invented these anyway??—when the front door unlocks. Your finger zeroes in on the little ‘x’ to delete the page from your phone. You check on the cookies. One batch is currently on the cooling rack, while another is in the oven.

Phantom zooms into the kitchen, snout turned upwards and twitching madly. Cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg fill the air. You can almost taste the spices on your tongue. Crouching down, you give Phantom little scritches behind her ear, and she tilts her head to give you easier access. Her hind leg twitches, and you chuckle. Heavy thumps and the creak of wood travel through the kitchen, and a shadow is cast over you. Glancing up, you see Simon holding a bouquet.

You stand up and accept the bundle of delicate red and white flowers. Bringing your face closer, you breathe in their sweet scent. The soft petals tickle your nose, and you resist the urge to sneeze.

He sticks his hands in his pockets and shuffles his feet. “Did you think I would forget?”

You rub the petals between your fingertips; they feel like satin. “I wasn’t expecting any since you’re home this year,” you confess. You assumed the bouquets were an apology for missing Christmas. The edelweiss and peonies will make a lovely addition to your collection. 

Simon rubs the back of his neck. “Don’t like ‘em?” And the low baritone of his voice pitches. 

A soft smile spreads across your face. You embrace Simon and rest your head against his chest. His heart races, rattling loud like a machine gun. “You silly man. I love everything you give me,” you reassure him, and the gunfire ceases. 

Your head rises and falls with each breath he draws. “Just makin’ sure,” he rasps, combing his fingers through your hair. His hands trail down to your waist and leave your body. You notice him inching towards the cooling rack on the counter. 

You smack his hand away and scold him. “Uh uh. Keep your hands away from my cookies. And don’t use your sneaky ninja skills to steal one. I will know if one of them goes missing.” Simon is not above using his military experience to snatch baked goods. He got away with it once, and you’ve made it a personal mission to never let it happen again.

“But there’s so many of ‘em. Nobody will complain if you show up with one less,” he grumbles.

You sigh, “Fine, but only because you won’t leave me alone until I give you a cookie.” He adjusts his baklava. There’s zero hesitation when he reaches over and amputates the arm of a gingerbread man. “Hey! You’re getting crumbs in my hair.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles with a full mouth, brushing your hair gently.

You remain in his arms, breathing in the sweet scent of bourbon mixed with his musk. Crunching fills the void of silence in the room. You look around and notice it’s only the two of you. “How’s Phantom?” you ask.

Simon glances in the direction of the living room. He hums, and the vibrations tickle you. “Out like a light. Walk must've tired her out,” he answers.

You plant a kiss on his chin, and his eyes soften. His fingers squeeze your hips. “I’m almost done. I’ll join you two in the living room soon,” you say.

He nuzzles the side of your head. “Don’t be too long,” he says, pulling away and caressing your cheek. You lean into his touch and nod, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. The crinkles around his eyes mirror yours. Simon nabs another cookie and darts out of the kitchen before you can stop him. You sigh and shake your head, looking for a vase to keep the flowers in.

Another twenty minutes pass before you’re done. You slide the last tray of cookies out of the oven and set it on the stovetop to cool. Remembering Simon, you pull off your oven mitts and check up on him and Phantom. You pause in the doorway, smiling to yourself at what you see. Simon is watching the tv, his eyelids drooping shut and snapping open every few seconds. He’s lying on the couch with Phantom curled up on his chest.

“I knew you would love her,” you whisper. Wide brown eyes lock onto your figure, and Simon sinks into the couch after seeing it’s you.

“A little help here?” he grunts. You stifle a chuckle at his current predicament. 

“Can’t move a puppy, Lieutenant?” you tease. 

He rolls his eyes at you. “Haven’t you heard of the saying: let sleeping dogs lie?”

You scoop up Phantom, who barely stirs from her sleep. Simon scoots further in and turns onto his side, patting the empty space beside him. You lie next to him with Phantom sandwiched between the two of you. His strong arms lock around your waist and prevent you from rolling off the edge. 

The next few minutes are spent in silence, exchanging looks and gentle touches. Simon’s words catch you off guard. “Life without you is like the night sky without stars; empty and fuckin’ miserable to look at.” You drown in endless pools of black, seeing your reflection stare back with wide eyes. The silence amplifies the pounding in your ears. He speaks with such sincerity and conviction that you feel it with every fibre of your being. 

Your lips twist into a smile, and you say, “I love you too.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “Merry Christmas, poppet.” His fingers draw random shapes on your back, eliciting a shudder from you.

“Merry Christmas, Simon,” you whisper, lips grazing against the fabric of his mask. He makes a content hum and watches you with an affectionate gaze. The fireplace crackles and tiny snores come from Phantom. The scent of gingerbread wafts from the kitchen and infiltrates the living room. Cozy. You feel cozy.

Simon stretches and groans, “I’ll be back. Need to make a quick trip to the loo.” He crawls over you, careful not to wake Phantom. The puppy twitches but otherwise gives no other indicators of consciousness. You reach for the tv remote and browse for a show to watch, already missing the heat of his body.

Simon goes to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. He tugs the baklava off and rubs a hand over his face. From his pocket, he fishes out a small, velvet-lined box. He rushed to pick up his order when he heard the news.

His phone chimes, and he opens a message from you. There are two pictures. The first is Phantom curled up in her dog bed with the ghost plushie. His lips quirk, and he swipes to view the second photo. His heart stutters, fingers clutching the phone tight. It’s a miracle the screen protector doesn’t shatter. The second photo is a selfie of you and Phantom cuddling where he left you. There’s a goofy smile on your face despite your worried eyes drifting toward the sleeping dog. He can see the slight furrow in your brows—fuck do you make him soft. Now there’s a new addition to your family, and the pup proved him wrong when he thought he couldn’t grow softer. A tightness overcomes his chest, and his vision swims. 

And suddenly, he’s scared. Because somehow, in this fucked up world, he found you. A random variable in his life that he has no control over. He’s terrified you’ll be ripped away from him like everyone else. That’s why he needs to do this. Needs to tie you to him forever so that there’s always a piece of you with him. Definitive proof that you are his. The night sky was a cheesy line, but he meant every word. He doesn’t want to come home to an empty apartment anymore. To count down the days until the next deployment. To worry about what terrible thing comes next. To function in life on autopilot. 

Simon Riley is entirely aware of how much he loves you. And he’s terrified of how to prove it.

He exits the bathroom, one hand fidgeting with the box in his pocket. 

“Bloody fucking hell.”

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

This thing honestly grew a lot bigger than I was expecting. The party mentioned above is definitely a party with the 141 and vaqueros, and I headcanon it to be the first official introduction between the reader and everyone. In that universe anyway.

Also, I totally did not plan on ending it with a possible proposal, it just kinda happened lol. Have fun imagining because I don't think I'll write it.

I do have an idea for a single-dad Price fic because we all know that would make such cute fluff. It was originally going to be for the holidays too, but I'll probably modify the story to work without it.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Reblogs are appreciated!

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Happy New Year (A Doppelgänger interlude)

Pairing: Ransom x Reader, Lloyd x Reader

Summary: Your fiance has a special New Years surprise for you. 

Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon, Dark!Ransom, Lloyd Hansen is his own warning, Switching Places, Alcohol, Mind games, Darkfic, Smut, Dead Dove: Do not eat, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: so lots of people have been asking when the first time they switched places on reader was… happy new year, everyone! divider by @firefly-graphics​

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m just not going to make it home.” Ransom sounds genuinely apologetic over the phone. “Something came up. Harlan’s sick—could be bad.” Your heart sinks as he says it. You don’t want to feel anything but empathy, but instead, bitter jealousy curls in your stomach alongside it. After all, you’re family too, aren’t you? You’re engaged, aren’t you? 

 When do I get to come first? You feel guilty even thinking it—after all, it isn’t like Ransom hasn’t put you first in all sorts of other ways. But you’re lonely, and you miss him. You’ve been alone in this big house since just after Christmas, and it’s starting to get to you. His “day or two” visit had become three, become four—and now you were standing alone amidst the various holiday decorations you’d put up in anticipation of his arrival. 

 “That sounds terrible,” you say, swallowing down the bitter frustration. After all, it isn’t his fault. You know he’s in charge of so much at the publishing company, and you don’t want to complain. “When do you think you’ll be home?”

 I know it’s a shitty way to spend your New Year’s,” Ransom says. “No need to sugarcoat it.”

 “I just… dammit, Ran, you know I miss you,” your teeth sink into your trembling lower lip. You don’t want to cry, dammit, you’re not one of those girls who can’t spend a weekend without their fiancé. You feel silly even being upset. 

 “I know, Sweetheart. I miss you too. I promise, I’ll fly home tomorrow, and we’ll have a belated New Years party. Just you and me. Okay?” He sounds so earnest, it’s hard not to forgive him instantly. 

 “Okay.” 

 “Don’t say it like that, baby. I promise, we’ll make it special, okay?” 

 “Okay, Ran,” you say, a small watery smile crossing your features. He can’t see it, but his relieved sigh tells you he can feel the tension easing between you as well. “And you’ll call at midnight?”

 “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 You hang up the phone, and stare dejectedly at your festively decorated house. Even though Ransom’s only coming home a day later, it all feels like wasted effort now, like you invited all your friends to your birthday party and not a single one of them showed. You kick at one of the silver balloons littering the living room floor, and it pops, showering both you and the carpet in brightly colored paper confetti. 

 Maybe it was silly to go to all of this effort, but… you want things to be special. First New Years together, first apartment together—a year of firsts that you’d completed together. It feels bittersweet to be alone now, but you swallow it. You sigh, shoving more balloons off of the couch and collapsing onto it. 

 Maybe it’s not too late to call Nat.

 Your sister texted you just the day before to ask if you had any special New Year’s plans, maybe it’s not too late to tag along with her. You grab your phone. It’s not too late, only a little past six as you pull up her contact info, and punch the green button to dial her. 

 “—as anyway. Hello?”

 “Oh, hey, Nat.” You can hear muffled laughter and the low murmur of conversation in the background. “You busy?”

 “Just pre-gaming before we go out,” she says. That rich, deep laugh sounds again, and your cheeks heat. You hadn’t realized Nathalie’s we included a male friend. “Your boo-thang home yet?”

 You let out an awkward laugh. “Ugh, no. He, um. He got held up, family stuff. I was wondering if you wanted to come over? Maybe hang out tonight?” Even as you’re speaking, you hear someone on the other end groan frustratedly. 

 “Come on, Nattie,” The deep male voice is just loud enough for you to hear. “You said you were gonna make me see stars. Was that all talk?” 

 “I would,” You can practically hear the sly smile on her lips. “But I kind of… already made plans, if you catch my drift.” There’s a loud slap, and Nathalie’s girly giggle makes you roll your eyes. “I can stop by after?” 

 “I don’t think you’ll be walking after,” you retort. “Don’t worry about it. Happy New Year.” 

 You shuffle around the house irritatedly, trying to find something to do with yourself that doesn’t remind you of just how alone you are tonight.  Depressingly, you settle on chores. You throw a load of laundry into the washer in the hallway, and meander back to the living room. You know your little decoration whirlwind will only be a hassle later, but you can’t bring yourself to take them down. The bottle of prosecco you picked up at the liquor store is still sitting in its melting ice bath on the coffee table, the two glasses next to it sadly empty. 

 “Happy New Year to me,” you mumble, climbing over the back of the couch and landing on the pillows with a dramatic oof. You reach for the bottle, carefully undoing the aluminum contradiction that keeps the cork in place. It pops out, skittering away underneath one of the living room chairs for you to find later. You pay the errant cork no mind, and pour yourself a liberal glass. 

 Bitterly, you hold it up to the quiet air in a mock toast. 

 “First drink of the night,” you say, downing half of it in a single gulp. The bubbles tickle your nose, but the alcohol is sweet and palatable. You finish the glass and pour another, reaching for the remote. By the time you've finished your second glass, the alcohol is sitting warmly in your belly, and the bitter, angry feeling roiling in the back of your mind is both less obtrusive and somehow more present than ever. Aimlessly, you flip through channels, watching other people celebrate the new year as you slide progressively further and further into the bottle. 

 After you finish your fourth glass you don't bother with it anymore, instead swigging straight from the bottle. The comfortable warmth settling in your tummy is spreading out, down your limbs, into your fingers, making your head loll as you lay there. You squint at the cable box—10:45. A whole hour and fifteen minutes left of this year. 

 The dryer dings, and you groan. “Stupid thing,” you mumble, staggering to your feet. Doing laundry while drunk is a skill set, you decide as you make your way to the hall closet, the floor tilting dangerously under your feet. There's a bang that echoes down the front hallway as you open the laundry room door, and you squint at the dryer, swaying as you try to place the noise. It sounds again, and it takes your liquor muddied brain a few seconds to understand—

 It's the door. 

 “One second,” you say, hoping the words don’t sound as slurred to the person on the other side of it as they do to you. “M'Coming.” You eye yourself in the hallway mirror, and practice walking in a straight line before you reach for the door handle. “How can I—Ran?” Your husband's face cracks into a wide grin as you blink at him. “How—?” You hiccup, covering your mouth as your cheeks warm with embarrassment . 

 “Happy new year, Princess.” He steps over the threshold, wiping his shoes on the mat. You're so happy to see him, you practically throw yourself into his arms, sniffling. He smells good, like pine and leather. gold chain under his turtleneck rubs against your cheek through the fabric as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. 

 “II thought you had to, um. Harlan,” you try to make the alcohol added words make sense on your loose tongue. “Sick?” He chuckles, cupping your chin. 

 “Someone's had a few,” he says with a laugh, and you giggle up at him. “Besides, I needed to see my girl,” he says, drawing his thumb affectately over the apple of your cheek. “I missed you… ” He trails off, his eyes focusing on something behind you. “Did you do this?” Ransom gestures to the decorations. You nod, another hiccup forcing its way up through your lips. 

 “I w-wanted to surprise you. Do you like it, Ran?”

 “I love it.” His responding laugh is dark with an emotion you can't name. He leans down to kiss you, his mouth moving hungry against yours. You kiss him back, and then wrinkle your nose, frowning as you pull away . 

 “You grew out your beard,” you say, drawing a finger across the mustache sitting just above his upper lip. “So fast…?” He chuckles. 

 "I'll shave it tomorrow." He kisses you again, moaning into your mouth. "Fuckin' sweet," he mumbles, worrying your plump lower lip between his teeth. He pulls away, panting, his eyes dark. a drink, Princess,” he says lowly. “I need to catch up.” 

 You're acutely aware of your stumbling as you head back to the kitchen for the other bottle chilling in the fridge. Ransom saves you the trouble of opening it, popping the cork and pouring himself a glass. He refills your discarded flute, and the two of you drink together. 

 “You really outdid yourself, baby,” he says, nodding at the brightly colored, festive streamers hanging in the doorways. You can't help but beam a little proudly at him.

 “I thought you would like it,” you say, taking a sip from your glass when Ransom indicates that you should, tapping the stem as if to say bottoms up. 

 "Can't ring in the new year sober, can we?" He says, topping your glass back up before its even empty. "I love it. I can't believe I almost missed it," he says, shaking his head . You watch as he rounds the kitchen island, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Getting close now, aren't we, Princess?” He asks, his hands straying underneath the hem of your plain pajama shorts. “We should get ready to count down." 

 He walks you back out to the living room and flips on the television, a snowy Times Square appearing on the flat-screen. The music is almost too loud, and the room spins around you as Ransom leads you back to the couch. The champagne glass in your hand slips from your fingers, landing on the carpet with a soft tinkle as the stem snaps neatly in two.

 “R-Ran, we sh-should—” You don't remember sitting down, but suddenly you are, splayed messily across the sofa as Ransom climbs over you. Your skin burns hot from the alcohol, and you whine as his cool fingers press into your hips. 

 “I'll clean it up later.” The low sultry purr makes you shiver. You can't shake the niggling feeling that something is wrong, but Ransom won't let you think. He kisses down your jaw, nibbling at your throat as he sandwiches you between his hard chest and the couch cushions. He slides down, his knees hitting the carpet with a muffled thud as he stars up at you from between your thighs.

You don't remember him sliding your shorts off, but as his breath puffs across your moist, swollen folds, he licks his lips. 

 "Even prettier than I thought you'd be." Something about his words gives you pause, but as you struggle to sit up, Ransom's arms tightened around your thighs, pulling you forward until your hips dangle off the edge of the couch, your thighs slung over his shoulders. “That's better.” The harsh rasp of his mustache against your cunt is lost in the sensation of his tongue sliding through your folds. 

 You can't even remember what you were going to complain about, the words lost in the hiss of air through your clenched teeth. Ransom does it again, parting your soft, puffy lips to circle your slick entrance with his tongue. 

 “Princess, you better start counting,” Ransom says cheekily, “or you’re going to miss it.” 

 “T-ten. Nine— oh fuck,” you whimper, your hips rolling against his face as Ransom’s tongue flicks expertly at your clit. “R-Ran—”

 "I said count, Princess." 

 "F-five, four, three— God—!" You're barely aware of the sound of your phone ringing somewhere else in the house, but you can't focus on it, not when Ransom is curling his fingers inside you like that and—

 You press your head back into the cushions, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as you cum with a whimper, your thighs clenching tightly around Ransom's head. You try to pull away, but his grip only tights, his tongue lashing against your clit as your cries grow louder, ringing in your own ears. 

 "Ransom, Ran I c-can't, I can't—!" You babble gibberish down at him as your toes curl. He doesn't move, though, doesn't relinquish his grip until you're dragged down underneath the current of sticky pleasure again. You go limp, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes and down into your hair as you struggle to catch your breath. 

 “Happy New Year!” The television hosts jump excitedly as silver and gold confetti rain down around them. Auld Lang Syne blares from your television speakers as Ransom leans back on his knees, admiring the sloppy mess between your thighs. 

 “Happy New Year, Princess,” he echoes softly, drawing a finger through your trembling folds. You whine, trying to close your thighs around his hand. “Let's make it a good one.” 

[differenteagletragedy]

Hello, are your requests open? If so, do you have any hcs/thoughts on Cove with a shy mc that works in the aquarium as a professional mermaid? Like, how he found out, how he feels about it- (how his dreams at night change after this revelation lmao)

If not, then please don't mind this request! Thank you for all the fics that you wrote, they bring a smile to my face every time you upload❤️

Belated Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to youuuu

This is extra sweet because it's a shy MC! Bless these little babies.

-- If you're shy, then it probably took a lot for you to go for this job, good for you! So since this would be a bit unexpected probably the best way to tell Cove would be to surprise him.

-- You line everything up, sneak off to training, and on your first day you just tell Cove that you should meet at the aquarium! Even if you live with him at this point lol, you can't go together, you've got some errands to run, your moms need help with something, whatever. It's ok to fib for the first part because it's for a surprise!

-- But he is a little sweetie who will do anything for you, so sure, he'll meet you there! You tell him to meet by one of the big tanks, the ones where those mermaids are sometimes. He is very down for that.

-- Mermaids are a thing for you and Cove, they always have been. You talked about them when you were little, when he got his cast off sometimes you'd play mermaids when you went to the beach. You still played mermaid sometimes if we are being honest. They're his favorite mythological creature, obviously. He's gotten you little gifts with mermaids on them.

-- So he gets to the spot and you're not there yet, that's fine, he'll just watch the mermaids! Oh look, there's a new mermaid! That's cool OH MY GOD IT'S YOU

-- Jaw dropped, eyes wide, he better not have been holding anything because it would be on the floor. Because there you are with a FANCY MERMAID TAIL in the AQUARIUM and there are FISH swimming with you and why is this everything he never knew he always needed.

-- Just total awe for this whole part. And like he'll think it's hot too, come on.

-- But he is so proud of you! What a neat job, and way to step outside your comfort zone! He'll have a billion questions about how you got the job, what made you want to do it, can you play with the fish, can he touch your tail, etc.

-- He wouldn't think to do it the first time, he'd be too amazed, but eventually he'll start taking so many pictures and he'll look at them a lot. Just very very often.

-- He will also tell anyone who will listen (actually listening is not a requirement) that you're his partner.

Cove: See that mermaid right there? The prettiest one? They're with me.

Toddler who didn't ask for this: I LIKE ARIEL

Cove: *smug smirk* Yeah she's pretty cool too.

-- Lol not his dreams

-- He may have looked up how mermaids hook up and then deleted his entire search history over and over, tossed all those cookies straight in the trash. If you ever found out somehow, he would deny it until he's on his deathbed, then he would deny it again with his last breath.

-- Ok so I'm not super sure on this one but I thought about it and want to throw it out there: what if Cove gets a tattoo of a mermaid for you? Not like with your face or anything, but maybe it's got your hair color or the tail is the same color as the one you wore.

[astrodances]

Oooo for the drabble thing how's about

"Would you kill me if I sent you flowers?"

and you know this just oozes scroldie 😆

Yes, it most certainly does!! 😁 And thank you for the prompt!

Happy (belated) Valentine's Day, and I hope you enjoy this! 💜

AO3 link here

_____

The Love Language of Nature

Want to send a special message to your Valentine? Say it with flowers!

Goldie’s eye caught on the flier taped to the inside of the window in front of her. She’d been walking through downtown Duckburg, between errands, heist-planning, and errands for heist-planning, doing some window-browsing. Every window display was making her painfully aware of the upcoming holiday, yet she still took time to take note of things she couldn’t help but want to get for her special someone. Because of course she would.

The flower arrangements displayed before her were admittedly beautiful, and Goldie had seen plenty to compare around the world in her years. But these were close, were here, and the store offered free delivery with purchase if booked a week or more before the big day.

And the flier’s implications were making it all the more tempting. It listed a whole slew of flowers, and their special, hidden meanings.

She wasn’t the best with words, she knew that; maybe flowers were her love language?

Browsing through the list still, she pulled out her phone and asked Siri (Louie had given her a smartphone 101 walkthrough a while ago, insisting that she needed to “up her tech game to at least the basics, c’mon” if she was going to pull off schemes in the modern age, and especially with him) to call Scrooge. She couldn’t wait around for him to answer a text (which she was very good at, thank you very much) lest she lose her nerve.

It took him three rings to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sourdough. Would you kill me if I sent you flowers?”

“That depends, are they poisonous?” Scrooge asked, not missing a beat.

There was an elevator ding in the background on his end, then more of an open din, and Goldie knew he was at the Money Bin. She automatically turned to the behemoth structure in the distance, as if it would amplify their conversation, and her ensuing indignation.

She let out an offended squawk. “Hey! No they are not, thank you, but if you’re gonna be like that, then never mind!”

He laughed, and the sound reminded her why she did want to send the flowers, darn him. “Hey, it wouldn’t be the first time,” he unfortunately had to point out.

“Yeah, well...”

So sending him a bouquet of lilies, tulips, and lupine from a mythic beast’s wedding from the Underworld to rid herself of a curse hadn’t been her finest hour.

He lived.

“Would you kill me if I sent you flowers?” Scrooge asked, reversing the question.

A blush bloomed through her cheeks instantly. “I...n-no...” So much for not being cursed - her heart was getting softer by the second these days, it seemed.

“Then there’s your answer, dear. Look at you, being so thoughtful.”

Goldie’s brain was ready to self-combust at that, but she had to recover some of her dignity as this call came to a close. A quick, stabilizing breath, and- “Yeah, yeah, just try to forget this conversation ever happened, Sourdough. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sounds grand.” There was a squeak of his old desk chair as he sat down. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Despite the teasing, the warm smile was what remained as Goldie hung up and scanned over the flower list once more before strolling into the flower shop. The air was intoxicating with lovely, fresh scents - heck, all flowers were poisonous if they made her feel like this, this...light, giddy, and airy, and despicably drunk with love.

“Hey there, welcome to Rhoda’s Dendrons! Anything I can help you with today?” the young duck with curly black hair behind the front counter asked.

Goldie’s roving gaze snapped to her as she approached. She tapped a finger on an identical flier from the window that was laminated and taped to the counter’s glass top. “Yeah, I’d like to order some flowers for delivery...”

_____

On the evening of Valentine’s Day, an elaborate arrangement of flowers sat atop Scrooge’s dresser in a tall, multi-tiered golden vase. A pamphlet version of the store’s flower guide, with the bouquet’s choices checkmarked with hearts in a sugary pink ink, laid waiting on the floor next to the bed, its seal broken despite the bashful protests the sender had put up for its recipient to wait to read until the next day (or until her near-impossible death, thanks immortality).

(She had insisted that the pamphlet be included, on a whim of courage, because as embarrassed as she would be, she was also pretty sure he wouldn’t have a clue about the language of flowers, as far as she knew.)

And thankfully, he had read it (as she sat next to him on his bed in half-mortification, half-burning-desire, holding his hand and looking away, his own squeeze growing stronger by the second between sounds of amusement and adoration), because she had been immediately bombarded with hundreds of loving kisses when he finished reading, and now they laid entangled together, happily exhausted, utterly closer in heart, and basking in a symphony of floral aromas.

On the pamphlet, the following flowers were checked off:

Blue salvia - I think of you

Dahlia - good taste

Heliotrope - eternal love, devotion

Lady’s slipper - capricious beauty

Lilac - joy of youth

Pink rose - happiness

Red camellia - you’re a flame in my heart

Red carnation - I admire you and am missing you

Red rose - love, I love you

Red salvia - forever mine

White camellia - you’re adorable

White chrysanthemum - truth

White clover - think of me

Yarrow - everlasting love

[writertitan]

Perennial // Part 2

a/n: hello! i'm a little late, but here's to a belated bday for levi! and happy holidays to those who celebrate!

pairing: levi x fem!reader

overall themes: fantasy AU, strangers to lovers, traveling through realms, explicit content

part 2 themes: worldbuilding, reader annoying levi, some softness

read part one here

You weren’t in the temple anymore. You turned and watched as Levi seemed to come out of thin air, a little out of breath, but the both of you remained intact, still joined at your hands. With a racing heart, you let go. Whether the pounding of your heart was due to what just happened or this incidental moment of physical touch, you didn't want to know.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked, raising your brows. “Why are you out of breath?”

Levi frowned at you, wiping the last bit of sweat off his brow. He seemed almost surprised at your question, but his face eventually cemented back into nonchalance.

“What did I say about asking questions?” he mumbled, walking in front of you to lead the way.

You took in your surroundings as you walked behind Levi, feeling that wonderful sense of peace embrace you. The mirror had taken you to some kind of valley. Mountains that were so high they reached the sky flanked you at both sides, mostly rocky with bits of greenery here and there. The valley you walked on was what was lusciously green, a river cutting through the moss and soft grass. You noticed you were following the direction the river’s water was running, but looking behind and in front of you, there was nothing but this view for miles and miles.

You wanted to ask where you were going and where you had come to, but you knew better by now. Best to just let Levi lead the way.

Part of you also knew that you should still be absolutely losing your mind right now. There was still no logical explanation as to what was happening to you, but it was like this valley stifled those feelings. The air was still and calm and smelled a little sweet, and the night sky was still sprinkled with an astounding number of stars and meteors shooting across the sky. The moon was still bright and big above you, its craters clearly visible. You admired it for a moment until you slowed your steps, confused. Earlier, when you’d liked behind you to examine the length of the river and valley, you saw the moon there, peaking over a mountain. Had it orbited to be in front of you so soon? You whirled around just to make sure, eyes like saucers when you saw…another moon. Just as bright, maybe a little smaller.

“What the fuck?” you choked out, tripping over your own two feet.

“What is it?” Levi asked. You turned to face him, your heart racing, and with shaky hands, you pointed each hand towards each moon.

Levi seemed to immediately understand, and his jaw set a little, his smoky eyes on you in an instant, looking wary. He took a very slow, very gentle step towards you, as if you were a scared animal that might run away with any sudden movements.

“We’re almost there, Embla,” he murmured, deliberately calm. “Just a few more minutes until I can know for sure you’re really safe, and then—”

“We’re almost where?!” you shrieked, your entire body trembling. That calming feeling was ebbing, making way for your undiluted fear. “I’m freaking out, Levi! You’re asking me to trust you when I don’t even know you! You won’t even call me by my actual name. And I don’t know where I am, but I’m clearly not…I’m not where I should be. I’m in a place I’m not supposed to be in.”

“That’s right,” Levi said, his response immediate. “You came from somewhere else. I know it’s scary, but you need to take a deep breath and calm down. There’s a reason I’m making you wait for answers and taking you to a specific place. Please, Embla. I need you to trust me just a little bit longer. I’m going to help you.”

You were hyperventilating and frozen in place. And, even though you were outside, where everything looked and felt endless, you had never felt so stifled and claustrophobic in your life. In a weird way, it felt like you were trapped in your body, which didn’t make sense.

“I can’t move,” you gasped out, and Levi’s gaze softened.

He closed the distance between the two of you and took hold of your hand, the warmth of his palm blazing through you. As if on cue, your heart raced within your chest again, like it had before after going through the mirror.

“I told you not to stay still for too long,” he whispered. “Take a deep breath.”

You did as you were told, albeit the breath was pretty shaky, and then closed your eyes as the air whooshed from your lungs. Levi’s hand squeezed yours and you let yourself focus entirely on that, opening your eyes when you felt him manipulating your hand until your palm was facing the sky and your fingers were spread wide. His pointer finger traced some invisible symbol on your palm, a few times over, until your heart began to slow and your breathing steadied, and your limbs loosened up.

You took a step toward him, bumping into him with how close you were, and then you were acting without thinking. You threw your arms around him and hugged him tight, needing the comfort more than anything. He was stiff and you ended the hug before he could even really react, but you felt much better.

“Let’s go,” he muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. You bit back a smile when you noticed his ears were pink. His embarrassment was enough of a delightful distraction to keep your blood pressure down.

Levi was right about not needing to walk that much longer. Within a couple of minutes, you were standing in front of the rocky wall of a mountain, bare of anything other than more rock. However, Levi took a step forward and placed both of his hands on the mountain, whispering something you couldn’t make out, until a low rumble filled the air. You watched in shock as the mountain wall shifted, a crack in it expanding until you realized it was opening up for you. It was dark inside, so dark that you couldn’t see how big the inside was, but you followed behind Levi anyway.

A few steps in and you heard that rumble again. Turning your head, you watched in horror as the mountain’s opening closed behind you.

“Levi!” you half-whispered, half-shouted, tugging at the arm you were holding onto for dear life.

“It’s supposed to do that,” he replied casually.

When the mountain fully closed you in and you were swallowed by the darkness, that’s when light brimmed out.

You blinked in surprise as what could have easily been little stars of light came to life, came out of nowhere, and guided you down the remainder of the rocky hallway that you now realized was rather short, and led to a wooden door that was perfectly framed into the inside of this curious mountain.

Levi opened it with ease and you followed him into the room, the lights following you, and you gasped a little as more light bloomed in the large room you entered.

Candles lit themselves atop an iron chandelier above you, and even more ignited along the walls. Shelves and alcoves had been carved into the rock itself, filled with trinkets, jars, books, and loose pieces of paper. Despite how many things there were, everything seemed to have its own little place, and it didn’t feel cluttered. A few velvet chairs decorated the place, the biggest one placed at a wooden desk that was shoved against the wall.

“This is weird,” you muttered, though you were very much charmed by it. “Where are we?”

Levi was quiet for a moment, and then motioned for you to sit in a chair. You took an emerald green velvet chair, taking off your backpack to place on your lap, while Levi took the deep blue one across from yours.

“This is a safe place for you. One of my many hiding spots,” he explained. “It’s guarded, I promise. No one gets near this place unless I allow it.”

“Okay…,” you murmured, looking around before letting your gaze settle back on Levi. “I still have, like, a million questions, Levi. What happened to me? Do you know? You seem like you know.”

Levi frowned a bit at that, then nodded his head once a little, though he seemed hesitant to.

“I don’t know how, exactly, you managed to get here. But you’re in Eldia.”

The words struck you like bricks, a shock to the system.

At first, you wanted to laugh. You were in total disbelief at what he’d just told you.

“Eldia?” you repeated. It felt like you had blinked a thousand times in one second while trying to process what he was saying to you. “Eldia’s not real.”

Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before saying, “It would be great if you could skip past the denial stage. It would save both of us so much grief.”

Eldia.

Eldia.

There was no way he was being serious.

Eldia was a story. A myth. Another realm where magic beings walked the earth and held the power of Titans. A realm full of beings that were tied to the devil and had tried to destroy humans. It wasn’t real.

“I know that humans don’t believe anymore. We prefer it that way and even had part in making it that way. As far as I know, we cut off every…point of entry, I guess is the right way to put it. You technically shouldn’t even have access to us,” Levi said. “You can imagine the shock of knowing a human being made it over to our side.”

It felt like all the blood rushed out of your face. Your backpack suddenly felt very heavy in your lap.

“It’s not real,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

But how else could you explain everything? You’d had this sinking feeling the entire time, that you weren’t in the right place. That you weren’t in your true reality. And mirror and the sky and the moons and everything…it all pointed to Levi telling the truth.

“I’m gonna throw up,” you groaned, tilting your head back until it collided with the plush velvet of your chair.

“Please don’t,” Levi said with a grimace. But you could see that he looked nervous, which was odd. You were the one who should have every right to be nervous, and that was at the very least. If you were in Eldia…you were most definitely in danger.

“I don’t understand. You don’t look like a Titan. Shouldn’t you be, like, a hundred feet tall?” you asked. Levi was short and looked…normal. He looked human.

Levi didn’t answer, though. He frowned, clearly bothered by what you were saying, and you decided to focus your attention back on fighting the urge to be sick.

You really did feel lightheaded and dizzy, but maybe that had something to do with the fact you hadn’t eaten in a while and maybe you were dehydrated. On top of the fact that you’d accidentally teleported into another realm, of course.

With a trembling hand, you unzipped your backpack and pulled out a stolen treat, ripping open the package to shove a handful of chips into your mouth.

“We’ll have to get you something to eat from here, too,” Levi said, watching you crunch on your chips. “From what I vaguely remember, your body will need to acclimate to this realm. That’s why I’ve been telling you not to be still for too long.”

“Will something bad happen to me if I don’t acclimate?” you asked through a mouthful of chips. Levi didn’t seem too pleased at your lack of manners but didn’t comment on it.

“I should have explained better. It’s not quite your body, but your soul that’s attached to your body. It just…freaks out, as you put it. Like earlier, when you felt you couldn’t move, that was likely your spirit trying to…,” Levi sighed again, giving you a look. “Don’t panic at what I’m about to say, but that was probably your spirit trying to leave your body. It needs to adjust to being in this realm.”

You shuddered at the thought of earlier, and how it had felt like you had no control over your own body, and how it felt you were claustrophobic, like you were confined despite being in open space. It had probably been your soul, feeling trapped in a body that was trapped in a strange place. You’d never given much thought to souls or anything like that, but you maybe believed in the concept a little, and the idea of yours trying to abandon your physical body was terrifying. Still, it was interesting to think of how it would react to your situation. It was a little funny to think that souls weren't very into the idea of realm-hopping.

Levi got up from his chair and moved over to the alcove, rummaging around until he came back with a mug filled with dark liquid. The way it swirled in the mug hardly made it look like liquid, though; it looked like air. It also reminded you of Levi’s eyes.

“This is smokeroot tea. I put little charms in there as well for your protection. It should be enough to make the soul adapt,” he said. You took the mug from him and peered inside, taking a whiff of the tea. It smelled good, definitely kind of smokey, but a little earthy, too.

“An Eldian helping a human,” you murmured, but held the mug solidly in your hands. You had to keep trusting Levi, even if this was all true and he was an Eldian. He hadn’t done anything to harm you yet, and had done nothing but help, so you took a sip of the tea. You didn’t know what to expect, yet it still surprised you to enjoy the taste. It was nice to have something to wash the chips down with.

“Thanks,” you whispered to Levi, gazing at him through your lashes.

He got a little stiff and awkward then, taking an involuntary step back.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, his gaze turning back to the alcove. “I also have some dried rabbit meat. Let me give you some of that.”

That made you a little queasy.

“I’ve never…I’ve never had rabbit before,” you said, trying to be polite. “Will the tea be enough to keep my soul tethered to my body or whatever?”

“You should eat it just to be safe,” Levi said, handing you what looked like a strip of beef jerky. You took it to examine it and swallowed thickly, mentally preparing yourself for what was probably going to be an unpleasant taste, but you ate it so fast and downed it with tea and chips that you hardly noticed the taste at all.

It was then that you held the bag of chips up to Levi, giving him a hesitant smile.

“Want to try these? Do you have potato chips here? These are just sea salt ones, but they’re classic,” you rambled.

“No, but thank you. I’m just going to work at my desk for a bit while I give you some time to…process,” Levi said. Oh, well. More for you.

You finished off the tea with your chips, feeling much better by the time both were fully in your stomach. Neither of you really said a word to each other, though Levi also made himself some tea, which helped ease some anxieties you felt guilty about having. Though the quiet was nice and helped lull you into a sense of safety while your mind whirled with all you’d been through, you still had so many questions.

“How did we get here?” you asked quietly, careful not to disturb the peace too much. “I don’t understand. I know you’re not sure how I got here, but how did we move through that mirror thing?”

Levi, who had been sitting at his desk, looked at you from over his shoulder wearing that same guarded look.

“That was what we call a verse mirror. Do you still have telephones in your realm? You can think of it like a phone call, where you are able to call another place, but this is a physical manifestation of that. The thing is, calling through a verse is a little more complicated. It takes a lot of skill. You have to make sure you’re completely connected to the mirror and where you’re going. Otherwise, you could risk ending up somewhere else.”

You nodded, contemplating this new information. You remembered then, how transporting through the mirror had felt so much like what you’d felt before crossing into Eldia.

“What I felt during those moments as we passed through it…that’s what it felt like right before I got here,” you confided, voice barely above a whisper. You were staring at the empty mug in your hands, peering deep inside as if there was something helpful in there. “I was at a gas station though. There wasn’t a verse mirror anywhere in sight, I swear it.” Levi was silent as he took in what you said.

“There isn’t much magic left in your world, that’s true. Any magic there was brought over by us, and we haven’t crossed into your territory in a very, very long time,” he murmured. Then, his gaze was very much fixed on you, smoky eyes staring right into you. “One thing has been puzzling me about that trip through the verse mirror, now that you mention it. You had no problems going through it.”

“So what?” you asked, frowning. “Was I supposed to be all out of breath like you were?”

“Honestly, yes, at the very least you should have been feeling winded and out of sorts, especially with your very spirit feeling so disoriented. I was expecting you to faint, or worse,” he explained. “It can be taxing even on the most experienced Scout, but it didn’t seem to affect you at all.”

“Scout?” you repeated.

Levi stiffened, then gave you one of his looks that told you he was getting irritated.

“I could bore you with several hours’ worth of Eldian politics, but I’m thinking that would be a waste of both our times,” he quipped. You knew his sass was just to change the topic, and part of you wanted to press the subject just to get on his nerves a little bit, but you decided to let it go.

You sighed deeply and looked around, your mind whirling once again. This was certainly a different place, a different realm, somewhere that seemed out of time, but it also didn’t feel entirely too strange to you, which was the weird part. You were expecting the mental breakdown to come at any minute now, and yet you were lounging around Levi’s little hiding place and doing a damn good job of keeping it together. A far away part of your brain was worrying about the movers and your new place and the grief of your life that was in some unreachable place in space right now, but your rational brain was also very aware of the fact that those worries were at the bottom of the list for the foreseeable future.

You should have been worrying about some big things, actually. Not just the fact that you were in some entirely new realm, but also that it was the Eldian realm. This was the most dangerous place for humans to be.

You were racking your brain, trying to remember the bits and pieces of Eldian myth that most of the human world had grown up with.

In most legends, Eldians were once humans themselves, and magic was rampant in the human world. Humans mostly used it for healing purposes or celebrating, but eventually witchcraft was born and it began being used for more sinister purposes, and more and more people dedicated their lives to hoarding magic, rather than letting it be a free thing to share. Eventually, Ymir, the Eldian founder, was born and became the most prolific witch of all. She made a deal with the devil, who created a realm for her – this realm – to funnel all the magic of the human world into it for her sole use. She became the first Titan, an enormous humanoid monster that ate any human who dared attempt to slip into the Eldian realm, and then eventually sought out and resurrected 9 of the most cunning demons from the netherworld to bestow the Titan gift onto, in order to help her grow her realm. All 9 of them were demons that feasted on human flesh, and so Ymir crossed over to the human realm with those 9 demons to dominate humanity and use them like cattle. But, humanity had been able to put up enough of a fight to not only hold their ground, but even capture one of those Titans, thanks to a hero in the myths named Helos. Stories differed around the end of this fight, but in every story, Ymir and those 8 remaining Titans crossed back into Eldia. The most popular myth was that the humans captured the most powerful Titan, one that held the power to control passage between realms, with some even saying it was the actual devil himself, and it had forced Ymir to return to Eldia and use her last breath to close all entries but one into Eldia, which is heavily warded.

Most of the myths surrounding the realm of Eldia were tales of morality and cautionary tales, like many legends and folklore. You, like most others, learned these stories as children from adults who wanted you to stop being a brat or wander off, lest you find yourself in Eldia and get eaten by a Titan. You remember studying them again as a young adult, dissecting the stories and ultimately coming to the conclusion that they were also religious propaganda, a way to stop people from dabbling in witchcraft or other “dark” practices.

You hadn’t thought about Eldia in years. And now, you were literally here, a sheep among wolves, so to speak. And yet, you remembered the way the hordes of Eldians looked at you today. It intimidated you, yes, even scared you, but you didn’t feel a real threat to your life. Everyone had been so startled, so confused, but from what you recalled, nobody had wanted to take a bite out of you. And you hadn’t seen any actual Titans, no huge beasts as tall as skyscrapers with jagged grins and fiery bodies.

“What are you thinking about?”

Levi’s voice made you nearly jump out of your skin, and you swore as the mug you’d been holding clattered to the floor. Thankfully, though, it didn’t break.

You bent down to pick it up, but Levi was already there and doing it. You didn’t miss the dirty look he shot you before he put the mug away.

“You scared me,” you muttered.

“So, you can ask a million questions, but I can’t?” Levi asked.

You rolled your eyes. Then, as you were about to answer, you felt your face heat up.

“I was trying to remember everything I’ve learned about Eldia,” you admitted.

“Trying to figure out how fucked you are?” Levi asked, his voice flat. It almost made you laugh, but you managed to stifle it to a short snort.

“Something like that.”

“You’ll have to tell me what you’ve been taught. I’ve always been curious as to what humans think they know nowadays, after so much time has passed,” he said quietly. At that, you got curious.

“Have you ever been to the human realm?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Yes. I never interacted with humans in depth, though, and most of my visits were a very long time ago. My last one, however, was recent enough that I know humans are making great technological advancements, even without magic. The telephone was a personal favorite of mine. I liked the dial,” he mused.

You, however, were in awe. Your eyebrows shot up at his words. First, you were honestly a little surprised he would divulge any information about himself. He was so cagey with you. But also, to think he was this old, seeing the invention of the telephone...it was almost impossible to wrap your head around it. It was starting to make sense. Sometimes he paused when he was speaking, as if trying to use the correct “lingo” with you, though he wasn’t quite with the times on that front. And if it had been that long ago that he'd seen what the human realm was up to, did he still think the first renditions of the telephone were humanity's greatest technological achievements?

“Do you wanna see what phones look like now?” you asked him.

Without waiting for an answer, you dug through your backpack to fish out your phone, standing up so you could go to the alcove and show him.

Though he was clearly trying to look unfazed, you could see something flash in his eyes as he took the phone from your hand.

“We call them cell phones now. Or just phones,” you said, letting your phone come to life so he could see your home screen. “With this little thing, we have access to the entire world. Uh, human world. You can have everything at your fingertips, basically. It’s not just for phone calls anymore. It can be kind of overwhelming sometimes, now that I think of it.”

You unlocked your phone so you could prattle on about apps and the internet and your limited knowledge on how it all worked, but Levi stopped you.

“How are you making everything…come to life? You’re just pressing your finger on these strange symbols,” he said, slowly, trying to find the words.

“It’s just…the way technology works now. The screen can sense that I'm touching a particular area and gets me to where I want to go. Something science-y,” you answered, a little embarrassed you couldn’t give a more detailed explanation.

Levi seemed invested, however, and that made you happy. It also eased your mind a little bit; your other life was real, and waiting for you, and this would all be in the past one day.

"I had no idea you'd all come such a long way," he mumbled.

You let him touch the screen and direct him onto certain apps, and felt a little embarrassed when he looked at your social media. He seemed surprised to see photos of you there. Pictures of you with friends, traveling photos, and the occasional selfie. He spent a second longer on your selfies, which made you feel a little nervous, but you were just happy to see him so curious.

"Is photography more accessible?" he asked.

You gave a sly grin and took your phone back, showing him your camera. You made sure you had it on your front facing camera and angled the screen to capture mostly Levi's face, snapping the picture before he could react. His eyes grew wider when you showed him the photo, immediately available to view, but his wide gaze was replaced by a narrow glare.

"Don't do that again," he warned.

You rolled your eyes and put your phone away, turning it off to conserve some battery. Not that it had any signal here, but you would probably need it soon, when you were back on the other side.

You looked at Levi, who was now seated across from you again, not sure how to word what you needed to ask.

“So…what’s the plan to get me home?” you asked. Well, that would have to do.

Levi didn’t seem bothered, though. He was lost in his thoughts, his brows knit together to form a very concentrated look on his face, and you watched him curiously.

“First, we need to figure out how you got through. Once I know that, we can start working on getting you to cross realms,” he said.

“Fair enough,” you sighed. “How do you propose we figure that out?”

“I know someone that may be able to help with that,” he said vaguely, his eyes sliding to you. “But that’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe you should rest.”

As soon as he said that, it was like your brain finally registered how tired you were. So much stimulation and change, on top of an already stressful day.

You yawned involuntarily, despite your best efforts not to, and then looked at Levi sheepishly.

“I guess some sleep wouldn’t hurt,” you admitted.

“I don’t really have a bed here,” Levi said, and if you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn his eyes held a little bit of sheepishness as well. “I don’t want you to tire yourself out getting to a place that does have one –”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand, already curling up in your chair.

“You’ll come to find out that I can sleep just about anywhere,” you told him. You were already drifting off. Levi didn’t say anything, but he did procure the softest blanket you’ve ever felt to toss over you.

Would he come to find out? If you were leaving tomorrow, then he wouldn’t come to find out a damn thing about you. Maybe you were dreaming it, but you could have sworn your heart sank a little at the thought.

---

You had no idea how long you’d slept, but it must have been a while. There weren’t any windows in the room you were in, but when Levi noticed you were awake, he immediately got some tea started and then put some bread and butter in front of you and curtly announced it as, "Breakfast."

“How did you sleep?” he asked, taking a sip of his tea. It was the same as yesterday, smokeroot, and you happily sipped from your mug.

“I slept like the dead,” you said. “Neck is a little sore, but that’s fine.”

“Good. Then you’re well-rested enough for all we have to do today,” Levi said flatly.

You made a face behind your mug and then took another sip of tea, mulling over everything. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, but as your mind spun round and round, you finally had to just blurt out some thoughts.

“I keep waiting for my brain to just…I don’t know. Break from all this,” you admitted quietly. “I keep waiting for a freakout. I keep expecting to curl up in a ball because I can’t process what’s happening. At this point, I’m more freaked out about having to wait on the freakout, than the actual freakout.”

“Well, that tea was going to help calm you down on top of helping your body keep your soul. Now that you’re acclimating, that’s probably a big part of why you aren’t feeling too bad.”

“No, you don’t understand,” you began, “I’m…I’m not used to adventuring. I’m used to keeping myself safe. I’m kind of in disbelief that I’m able to deal with this at all.”

“You seem to be handling this just fine,” Levi said. “I don’t see how that’s a problem. Why are you expecting all of that?”

Your face heated up and you looked down at your half-empty plate, ripping off a piece of bread just to rip that little piece into even tinier pieces.

“Because I’m not exactly the bravest person ever,” you said. “I’ve always been more of a scaredy-cat. I scare easy and I’m always anxious about one thing or another, and I hate sudden changes, and I hate not knowing. I’ve always been like that. You’re the only reason I haven’t been eaten alive here, and that should really scare me, and I should be so terrified right now, but I’m not. I think it’s all going to come crashing down at the worst moment.”

Levi was quiet. You dared to glance up at him and were surprised to see that he was staring right at you.

“The human mind is very durable. Humanity itself is very durable, if I remember correctly,” he said. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short. I think you would be surprised at what you’re capable of.”

It was strange, receiving such a sincere compliment like that. No one back home would have ever come close to saying you were durable.

But now that you’d gotten it out of your system, you felt lighter, and you wanted to change the subject. Your curiosity was getting the better of you again when it came to Levi.

“When’s the last time you visited the human world? It sounds like it’s been a while, if the last thing you saw be invented was the telephone,” you said. Then, in a quiet voice, you asked, “Do Eldians go into our realm often?”

It was hard trying to decipher Levi’s facial expressions. He was so good at hiding behind a calm mask. It was like trying to see past a brick wall. But you could see emotions flickering behind his eyes once in a while.

“That was the last time I was there, that’s true. It’s been a long time in human years. And I’ll never go back again, not for anything,” he said, and the way he said it made you not press for more. “The last time I went was the last time most Eldians went. I haven’t heard of a single one of us returning to that place since then. If it’s happened, I know nothing about it.”

So, he wasn’t fond of the human world. Which was funny, considering that he had just hyped up humanity only minutes ago.

After another silence, this one a little more tense, it was actually Levi that spoke first.

“No one is going to eat you,” he said, taking your empty plate from you when you were finished.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s a lot of misinformation – let’s just call it misinformation. About Eldia,” he said. He gestured towards his own empty plate. “I’m sure you noticed that I’m not munching on human bones.”

“Variety diet,” you said blandly, hoping the joke would land, but Levi’s glare told you it didn’t. “I’m only kidding. Kind of.”

Levi sighed, signaling he was done with the conversation, and you felt like you’d failed somehow.

“Tell me why every story mentions the fact that you eat people, then? I’m not following,” you told him, folding your arms over your chest.

“Because that’s what you were told to believe,” Levi snapped. “We don’t…do that. A lot of what you think you know is actually false. You don’t know anything at all.”

That struck a nerve in you.

“It’s not like you’re ever keen to answer any of my questions,” you quipped back.

The two of you were glaring at each other now. Levi’s jaw was set and your entire body was rigid.

“I’ve known you less than a day, with you being asleep some of that time, and you’re already the most aggravating person I’ve ever met,” Levi told you.

You gave him an exaggerated smile, your eyes still flashing with your glare.

“That pleases me,” you said through your smile, before rolling your eyes and standing up.

“So much for being a scaredy-cat. You’re more like a feral cat,” Levi muttered under his breath, but fully with the intention that you’d hear him.

You ignored him and straightened out your clothes, then put a hand in your hair, frowning to yourself; you probably looked like a total mess.

After doing what you could without even a mirror to guide you, you turned back to Levi, arms crossed again, trying to keep your face neutral like he often did.

“When are we leaving to find your little friend?” you asked.

“Right now,” he said. “Grab your things and don’t forget anything. We won’t come back.”

The quickness startled you, but you did as he said and then followed him back into that hallway inside the mountain, until it eventually opened to the valley outside again. The sunlight hit you hard and you squinted, holding a hand over your eyes to shield them until they adjusted.

The valley was just as beautiful in the day as it was at night. The plush green grass and sapphire sky looked magical. Wildflowers bloomed in pockets here and there, and the rocky path along the mountain even held some pretty weeds in the cracks. The river was so clear that you could see fish darting around, and the rocks at the bottom glittered and looked like they all held vibrant colors.

How could such a dangerous land be so beautiful?

You held the straps of your backpack as you walked alongside Levi, your neck craning this way and that while you took in the sights. The only sounds were the rush of the water and the songs of birds and your footsteps that moved the loose stones and pebbles in your path. Levi didn’t say a word and neither did you.

There was nothing to see for miles but the beauty of the valley, but you knew better by now. There was magic here, and it didn’t matter if you were in the middle of nowhere. You could be taken to entirely new places with the help of Levi.

Levi.

You slightly tilted your head to peek at him from your peripheral vision, taking in the sight of him. He was looking straight ahead, posture straight and confident as he walked. His hair was still night-black even in the daytime, and you marveled at his strong profile. His nose was straight, and his jaw was strong and defined.

“Don’t stare at me like that,” he spoke up, only glancing at you briefly. His eyes glinted silver in the sunlight.

You felt your entire face grow hot and looked away, heart racing. Why was it racing? How did he know what you were doing?

---------

You walked for hours, but it didn’t feel so tiring, not when there was so much to see. You loved how the sun felt on your skin, you loved the gentle breeze that ruffled your hair, you loved how sweet the air smelled. It was nice to get away from the ugliness back home.

It hadn’t been totally silent the whole way. Eventually, you just had to strike up conversations with the ever-reluctant Levi.

You asked him little things occasionally, things that wouldn’t piss him off, but you mostly commented on your surroundings and revealed the occasional fact about yourself.

“I fell into a river once, when I was a kid. I didn’t know how to swim back then, and the river currents were really strong, so I was swept away pretty fast. But I got lucky and the current pushed me against this huge boulder on the edge of the river, and I was able to pull myself out. My parents put me in swimming lessons after that,” you rambled, your eyes on the river at your side. It was narrow, some would have probably even called it more of a stream than a river, and the water seemed to idly bubble along. You knew better, though; underneath the surface was a whole different story.

Levi seemed a little interested in this particular story of yours, though you’d told plenty today. He gave a look you couldn’t decipher, then looked away.

“I saved a human child once, from drowning in a river,” he revealed quietly, his voice level.

You looked at him in awe, surprised at this confession of his.

“That was very kind of you,” you told him, suppressing a smile.

Levi barely reacted, but his face remained calm.

You took it as permission to keep rambling.

---------

The trail had eventually led you out of the valley and into a great expanse of land, still as beautiful but leaving the mountains behind.

There were fields of crops, you noticed, and actual livestock.

And then, up ahead, by the time the sun was signaling late afternoon, you could see what you were sure was a village.

At first, it was exciting. Then, that pit of worry sank like a stone in your stomach.

Eldians. Surely there would be Eldians there.

You remembered how it had been running into them the first time. Levi had to get you out of there. Now he was leading you towards more of them.

You hadn’t noticed you’d slowed down until Levi cleared his throat.

“Don’t start going all chicken-shit on me now, Embla,” he said, his face unreadable. “What’s gotten into you?”

“They’ll know I’m human, won’t they?” you asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “What are they gonna do? Is it gonna be like last time?”

Levi softened imperceptibly and stopped walking, standing a few feet away from you.

“They won’t hurt you,” he said. “It’ll be just before dusk by the time we get to the outskirts of the village, so the sun will still be out. They won’t come out until dark.”

That didn’t make you feel any better. You thought back to yesterday, how it had been so quiet and lifeless during the day. It hadn’t been until night descended that you saw any traces of life.

“What’s up with that?” you asked, stepping closer to Levi. “Why can’t they come out during the day? Are you like vampires or something?”

Levi scoffed, his glare back full force.

“We can obviously come out during the day, shit-for-brains. I’ve been walking with you all day, haven’t I? There’s a ceremony of sorts being carried out by Eldians. Last night was the first night of it, and tomorrow night will be the last night,” he explained.

“Why aren’t you participating in the ceremony?” you asked, already fired up with questions.

You could see that he didn’t want to answer, but you pressed on this time, using it as a distraction for your anxiety.

“C’mon, Levi! I’m trying to learn,” you said, your tone pleading.

Levi’s shoulders became less tense as you began to walk with him again, although, even as you looked at him with wide, curious eyes, he didn’t look at you.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “If it’ll get you to shut up and walk.”

When he finally turned his head to look at you, you gave him a smile, your first genuine one since getting here. He blinked a couple of times, his lips parted, but in a flash, he was composed again.

“It’s the Three Nights of the Daughters, but we usually just call it the Three Nights. It’s a yearly event where we honor Maria, Rose, and Sina.”

“Who are they?”

This time, it was Levi who stopped walking, an eyebrow raised.

“What?” he asked.

“Maria, Rose, and Sina…who are they?” you asked again, a little more hesitant this time.

“You really don’t know?” Levi asked, and you shook your head, feeling your face heat up yet again.

Those names didn’t sound familiar at all, and yet Levi was acting as though you were missing some important piece of information.

“No. Should I?”

“They’re Ymir’s daughters, her direct descendants. When she died, they – how could you not know all of this?” Levi’s face was incredulous, the most animated you’d ever seen him.

“She never had…none of the stories…”

Try as you might, you couldn’t find the words. Any time you had a thought, it trailed off.

Ymir had a family? None of the stories you’d ever come across even slightly hinted at that. Maybe it was human error. After all, these stories were so old, and they weren’t exactly all yours to tell. People considered them myth these days, not as historical events. Eldia had only been a fairytale to you until yesterday. But something nagged at you. This absence of knowledge felt intentional, like you weren’t supposed to know about it.

You looked at Levi, feeling unnerved for some reason.

“The last time you were in my world, did the humans know about her daughters?” you asked.

Levi seemed taken aback by the question, but his face was slowly melting back into neutrality.

“I never asked about the full extent of how the myths were told, but knew that things were...altered. I just never knew how much. I was never exactly in direct contact with you people,” he said. It was such a vague answer, but you let it go for now, tucking the little information he gave you for later.

“Tell me more about the Three Nights, then. Why do you celebrate her daughters? And why at night?” you asked, attention fully on Levi.

“Because of what they had to go through when their mother died. They each had to stay up all night with Ymir’s remains. They had to do unspeakable things in order to inherit the Power of the Titan,” he said casually, eyes fixed ahead. “But they did it for us, to save us. They used the Power of the Titan to attempt to close all pathways between this world and yours.”

You blinked in surprise. Her daughters saved Eldians, from what? From humans? That’s what it sounded like. Levi was telling the story like Eldians had needed to be protected from humans, which meant removing access between realms. Or, the way he’d put it, attempted to remove. Clearly, there was still access.

At first, you felt an automatic sense of defensive come alive within you. How dare he, when the stories pointed to countless humans getting eaten or tortured by Titans! People kept these myths alive to remind humanity of what to fear.

But again, that feeling of being unnerved set in. Something about Levi’s version rang true, though you didn’t know why you should trust him, why you were trusting him, despite everything you’d been taught. Even if you’d originally believed it all to be nonsense, these stories were now the only thing you could reference to survive in this different place. And here was Levi, tearing all your knowledge to shreds and claiming it to be false. Maybe not directly, but it was obvious he was trying to steer you in another direction.

“So now you all celebrate them every year by staying up all night outside?” you prodded.

“You’ve got it a little backwards. Do you remember yesterday, when everyone was coming back into town from the forest after sundown? That’s because people are resting in temples together. None of our temples are within towns. And before you ask why,” Levi said, eyeing you, “it’s because the temples are meant to be tied to the earth somehow, as a separate haven from whatever nearest town or village there is. It’s a time to gather as a community and people like coming together to celebrate and rest under one roof. During the day, people all come together in the temple to start preparing their feasts and offerings to the altars that are built for each daughter before they sleep. At night, families go back home and fast until morning.”

You mulled over all this new information and this unique celebration. Instead of looking at Levi, your gaze turned towards the village. You were closer now, and the sun was lower in the sky, casting long shadows and golden light. It was strange, knowing it was completely empty.

“Seems like it would be cramped, all holed up in a temple together,” you said aloud, mostly talking to yourself. “That temple we were in, Norchek Temple, was nearly decrepit, and so small. It wouldn’t have fit an entire village inside.”

“The temples I’m talking about are Temples of the Titans,” Levi explained. “They’re dedicated to Ymir and her direct descendants, and they’re big enough to hold many people. However, in some places where the population is bigger, they’ll assign different days for different groups to rest, usually going by neighborhood. Temples like Norchek Temple are different.”

“How is Norchek Temple different?” you asked.

Levi sighed, then stopped walking. You stumbled at the quick change, but then turned to face him fully, a questioning look in your eyes.

“Embla.”

That’s all he said for a few moments, just that odd nickname for you. But you knew he wanted to say more, so you kept quiet. When he didn’t say anything else, even though there was clearly a storm brewing in his eyes, you spoke up.

“Levi, just tell me what you wanna tell me,” you whispered, a hand outstretched to reach out to him. However, he stepped back, which made your heart sting, and his eyes hardened.

“Humans have told their own version of our history for a very long time,” he said. “I’ve never involved myself much with humans, and for good reason. There's no point in explaining all of this to you. It’s pointless trying to make you see.”

“See what?!” you pressed, hands balling into fists.

“The truth,” Levi said, not giving in to your anger.

His answer fizzled out your anger, though, and your outstretched arm fell limp to your side. So, he really was trying to convince you that you’d been lied to all your life. That all humans had been lied to.

Your gaze slipped from his and you focused on the fields and lines of trees instead, deep and rich sunlight saturating their colors. The sun was going to set soon, and the village wasn’t much farther. Now, though, you weren’t so afraid of who you might run into.

Levi seemed to harbor some resentment towards humans. He was so hesitant to tell you anything at all about his world, and you wondered why. Wouldn’t he want to tell you the truth of Eldia, so that you could go back to your world and spread that truth? Did he think that it wouldn’t matter, because you wouldn’t be staying here long enough to give you enough of the truth to pass along?

Besides all of that, you were battling your own mind. You wanted the truth, but you had to admit that you were also scared of it. You were so sick of being scared all the time. You’d always thought you were just especially mindful of self-preservation, but now you were seeing it for what it really was: cowardice. This was a chance to learn something life-changing, and yet you were still shying away from it. Part of you wanted to keep the stories you’d been told and hold them in high regard. You wanted to keep believing that those stories were the most accurate, and not whatever Levi could tell you. Everything you thought you knew was crumbling in on itself, and you felt powerless and stupid and bared to the world in a way that made you uncomfortable. It made you feel like a blank slate.

“Let’s just keep going,” you mumbled, hating yourself. Such a coward, such a scaredy cat. You could have pressed Levi more, hounded him for answers, for the truth, but you didn’t.

You fell into step together and entered the outskirts of the village, where you learned the name of the village by looking at some signs.

“Ragako,” you breathed out, admiring the structures of the buildings and houses.

It was a small village and it seemed so open, with wide roads and plenty of space between buildings. Nothing at all like the town you’d been in before.

“What was the name of the other town?” you asked Levi out of curiosity. You never did find that out.

“Shiganshina,” he answered curtly.

You frowned at him, not appreciating the tone, but decided to steer the conversation a different way.

“We’ve been walking all day,” you complained, rubbing your grumbling stomach.

You’d aired this grievance earlier, around noon, when the beginning pangs of hunger struck you. Levi had merely grunted and only let you stop long enough to peruse through your backpack for a snack, but then told you to keep it moving and walk while you ate. The snack was barely enough to sustain you, and now your hunger was back with a vengeance, coupled with thirst.

“Stop being a crybaby. It’s not gonna kill you to wait a few more minutes until we get to Hange’s house,” Levi said, his grey eyes peeking at you from his peripheral vision.

“Hange,” you repeated, tasting the name in your mouth. “Finally, you tell me who we’re seeing.”

“You never actually asked,” Levi reminded you, and you felt your face grow a little hot. Technically, he was right. He doubled down by adding, “You spend all your time asking millions of questions, but never the right ones.”

You felt there was some sort of double entendre in what he’d said but you didn’t want to press him anymore.

Sure enough, as golden dusk cooled into pale twilight, you were standing in front of someone’s home. From far away, you could hear people emerging from the forest, their distant chatter sounding like coils of wind.

You were about to question whether Hange was even home, but Levi pounded roughly on the door and startled you into silence. Surprisingly, the door swung open to reveal someone, presumably Hange, with messy dark hair and glasses that were askew on their face.

“Levi?” they asked incredulously, sleepy eyes suddenly alert. Then, their gaze turned to you, their jaw immediately dropping. “Is this…?”

“A human? Yeah. Let us in before anyone else sees her.”

read part 3 here

[aziraphales-library]

Hi!

This will probably won't make it to answered asks this Purim but maybe next Purim:

I've seen here Jew Omens fics that concern Hannukah (and one that pretty much covers all the Jewish calendar) but is there out there a fic focused on Purim?

This holiday has everything ineffable: food, wine, costumes, being kind to each other, drama, almost getting killed!

I know it's a generally lesser known holiday so it's understandable if you don't find anything.

Thank you for this wonderful blog, and Happy Purim/regular day if you don't celebrate!

Hello my dear and a very belated Happy Purim!

I think that the amazing borealowl has what you're looking for, or as close to as I've been able to find. If you haven't read it yet, it's a lovely series.

Four Cups of Wine by borealowl [rated G, 56K words]

Crowley is terrified of losing Aziraphale again, but unable to confess his feelings. He follows Aziraphale on an errand to America, where they end up invited to a seder and spend the next year being invited to other holidays and gatherings on both sides of the Atlantic. Is Crowley's pining painfully obvious to everyone but Aziraphale? (Yes.) Are the rabbi and her wife going to try and get them together? (Yes.) How many Jewish holidays will these two ineffable idiots be invited to before they finally admit their feelings to each other? (Read it and see!)

(And because someone requested it, there is now a link to brief explanatory notes about the various Jewish terms at the beginning of each chapter.)

-Mod AB

[seriouslysam8]

Sneak Peak?

Sorry! I forgot about the sneak peek yesterday due to the holiday. Happy belated Fourth to the Americans out there!

This is unedited because I haven’t done edits yet.

This is for all of you who said they missed our favorite Weasleys last chapter! I did too.

Chapter Thirty-One: Cepheus Black

​“Hey,” Harry greeted.

​Ron moved quickly upon hearing Harry’s voice, shoving one of his long arms in front of Ginny so she couldn’t make contact with Harry first. He pulled Harry into an embrace and Harry stared at Ginny over Ron’s shoulder. She rolled her eyes, her arms crossing over her chest.

​“It’s good to have you back, mate,” Ron said, thumping Harry on the back. “I was stuck with Ginny and her friends all bloody weekend.”

​Ginny scoffed. “Like you and Gemma didn’t spend two bloody hours gossiping about Hannah and Neville being caught snogging in the Herbology classroom.”

​Ron pulled away from Harry, his shoulders shrugging. “I mean, look, Gemma knows everything. It’s sort of eerie. I’m learning so much about so many different people.”

​Ginny pushed Ron aside. “Can I say hello to my boyfriend now?”

​Ron’s face pulled as she pushed past him. She rose up onto her tiptoes, slinging her arms on his shoulders. Harry had no choice but to bend down to press his lips against hers, not that he had any objections whatsoever. A spark ignited in his chest, his palms pressing against her hips. Ron groaned but Harry ignored him.

​When they finally parted, which could have been moments or minutes or even hours, Harry couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face.

​“I missed you,” she whispered.

​Ron made a gagging noise.

​“I missed you too,” he admitted as he pulled her close to his side.

​She snuggled into his chest, fitting perfectly against him like she was made to live permanently pressed into him. Harry’s fingers danced long her arm, and he swore he felt her shiver.

[justoneofthoseghosts]

Hello! Here's some bonus content for Once Upon a December. This was originally going to be part of the last chapter but I was hitting a wall. Please enjoy the belated Christmas treat! ☺️🎄

Three years later

“What about this one?”

Matt turns towards the tree Sylvie was pointing to.  It was around six feet tall.  He tilts his head to the side, examining it.

“It could work,” he tells his wife.

“Do you think we can get it into the living room?”  Sylvie asks.

He laughs.  Last year, they agreed on a much larger tree except that when they got back to their house, they found that they couldn’t get it past the foyer.  They ended up having to saw off some of the branches and a bit of the base.

“I think so.  If not, we’ll bust out the circular saw again,” he mentions jokingly.

She rolls her eyes at him before shaking her head.

Buying a tree had been one of their many Christmas traditions since two years ago.  Decorating it was always fun, Matt had to admit.  Last year, Violet, Griffin and Ben helped out, turning their tree into a very interesting one to say the least.

It had character was what Sylvie said after the kids were done.

They do end up buying the handsome Douglas fir tree.  Matt thanks the guy as he helps load it onto the truck, cranking up the heat as they got int the cab of the truck.

When they get home, they start to unearth the bins of Christmas decorations.  Sylvie grins as she finds the first set of ornaments she bought Matt at the Christmas market, showing them to him.

“Maybe we can go back next week and see if they have more of these.  They’ll look great on the tree,” she tells him, holding up a wooden snowflake.

He grins at her.  Over the years, Sylvie’s love for Christmas never faded and she had somehow managed to influence Matt.  They took turns planning wonderful Christmas activities for each other - two years ago, on their first anniversary, Matt surprised her with a weekend ski trip to a resort in Wisconsin.  Sylvie got him little presents corresponding to the twelve days of Christmas in return. There were weird presents like a can of pears but Matt loved them all the same. He loved the idea so much that when he proposed last year, he took a page from her book, this time giving her gifts based on the song 'Santa Baby'. He had to admit, he looked forward to Christmas because of her and her unending enthusiasm.

Even as she jams a Santa hat on top of his head to match the pair of reindeer ears she just put on, gazing at him innocently.

“You want some hot chocolate?”  He asks.

She beams at him and his heart just soars.

It’s that God damn smile that gets him every single time.

“Of course I do,” she states, “your hot chocolate is the best in Chicago.”

She says it as if it’s a widely known fact but he’s happy nonetheless at her sweeping statement.  It’s a big compliment coming from Sylvie, who loved anything that had chocolate in it.

When he gets back from the kitchen, Sylvie’s made much work of organizing the bins, arranging them based on the contents - Christmas lights, Christmas balls, other ornaments.  There’s even a bin for Christmas stockings that Sylvie’s family had gotten them last year, one for the each of them.

He hands her a mug, which was also Christmas themed, of course.

“Thanks,” she says before taking a sip and sighing.

He grins, taking a sip from his own mug.

“Anything you need help with?”  Matt inquires, looking around the room.

“Can you hang the Christmas stockings please?”

There’s a twinkle in her eye, like she’s in on some secret he isn’t but he doesn’t question it nor does he question the fact that the stockings were usually hung last - right before they lit the fire and cuddled up on the couch watching one of Sylvie’s many favorite holiday movies.  He grabs the first stocking, hanging it on the hook over the fireplace before grabbing the other one and doing the same.  He’s about to close the bin but something red catches his eye.

He stares at it for what feels like ages because somehow his brain could not comprehend what he was seeing.

It’s a tiny sock, like those for babies.

But they didn’t have a baby yet.  They had been trying for a couple of months.

Did this mean what he thought it did?  He told her when she agreed to marry him that he was making all his dreams come true.  This one was like adding an annex to that dream, to the longstanding one he’s had since he could remember.

“You okay, hon?”  comes Sylvie’s sweet yet tentative voice, her hand on his shoulder.

He turns to face her, opening his mouth, waiting for words to form.

“I, uh, we -”

She patiently waits for him to get there, eyes bright, gnawing on her bottom lip.

“We’re having a baby?”  He finally manages to ask.

She nods slowly before confirming, “we’re having a baby.”

He launches himself at her, pulling her in for a fierce hug, spinning her around.  Her laughter is in his ear, musical almost.

“We’re having a baby,” he repeats in wonder.

“Merry Christmas, Matt.” she whispers, cupping his cheek tenderly.

He smiles back, “Merry Christmas, Sylvie.”

He sets her down, the two of them swaying, slow dancing in their living room while snow fell out side.

Matt holds Sylvie closer, still reeling from the news.

He glances outside, unable to keep himself from reminiscing about this cheerful paramedic who dropped by his firehouse.  He smiles at how far they’ve come.

To think, it all started one random day in December which turned out to be one to remember forever.

[camsthesadgirlnow]

can i request backing christmas cookies with daddy rafe? 💕

this request was over a year old and even though Christmas has passed I’m still gonna write this one. also I’m back a little.

CHRISTMAS COOKIES 🍪

pairing: daddy!rafe x little!reader

christmas cookies w daddy!! 💗🤍

waking up on Christmas Eve and making yummy hello kitty Christmas cookies

after brushing your teeth and cleaning your face you rushed to the kitchen screaming after your daddy to follow you and he did after a couple minutes

you found a tutorial/recipe on tiktok and got all the ingredients out w help from your daddy obviously

rafe preheated the oven and you made a little flour mess

You were now rolling the dough and making the hello kitty shapes. you were both playing w the flour and some even ended up on your hair.

you both put the cookies in the oven after it was done and rushed to take a quick shower together to take the flour off you both.

You put on your Christmas pjs and rushed to the oven. You both took them out amd let them cool off. You sat on the couch and rafe put on the polar express, one of your favorite movies and started jumping excitedly.

You ate some cookies and rafe put hot chocolate in a bottle for you and put you in his lap and held the bottle while you paid attention to the movie

The whole day was filled with kisses and a movie day as Christmas was close by

After a day of movies it was bedtime and you and daddy set out cookies and milk for Santa to eat. And giggled back to the room.

“I hope santa gives me my favorite toys and coloring book. hopefully I was a good girl”

“If I was Santa baby I would give you all the toys in the world because you were such a good girl all year long.” He says and you giggle cuddling into your daddy feeling safe and ready for Christmas morning.

A/n: missing my daddy while writing this🙁 anyways hope you enjoyed loves. Merry belated Christmas and if you don’t celebrate xmas then happy holidays

[monsterfloofs]

Hello, if you are taking requests, could you do one with a holiday gift exchange with Teddy (Thaddeus) and reader, please? Thank you! Happy Holiday and New Year to you, may all your days be gentle and bright!

Thaddeus (Male Vampire) x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

A Holiday Edition:

(Hello there! Sorry it took me so long to get back to your request! I took a holiday break from writing to do some personal art things and spend time with the family. So this is a belated response, I also had to do some background lore/world work to figure out the best way to write this! —And uh, er, this got WAY too long!!! But uhhhhh also, Teddy is a favorite and I would live in Wroughtworth if I only could. So he gets paragraphs of story because he is a precious plum. Q-QQ ) Unedited for the most part, so there are probably mistakes abound! Sowwy in advance. u n u;; ) I also hope you had a lovely holiday and new years too! )

The dark streets and looming buildings were covered in thick blankets of snow, turning the usually dark and dreary structures into a cozy and picturesque winter holiday. It was almost like stepping into a black and white photograph in the day time, and at night the snow reflected a blue midnight color that pooled into the streets and plazas.

More snow was coming, you had heard, peering out the window to watch big fluffy flakes stick to high gothic windows. You pulled a knit blanket closer to you, staring outside into the sapphire twilight.

“Tell me about this. . . gift exchange again dear?”

“It’s something we do back home,” You admitted, careful to keep out the ties of religious holidays. After all. . . you thought it wouldn’t exactly be the best of ideas to bring them up, while religions in the past had called vampires, demons and evil spirits. Finding and devising ways to harm and deter them.

“Hm. . . I suppose that would give us something to do while we are trapped inside from all this snow.” Teddy makes a face, scrunching his nose as his eyebrows knit together. “But you did say it was an exchange, that also means that I must find you a gift as well.”

Your reflection gives an awkward smile, well. . . he didn’t really have to. But you knew Teddy, he would have insisted that he have to give you something in return if you had surprised him with a present. You look back at him, his fingers steepled together in thought as the candle lit made his eyes dance and glitter.

What was that look for?

“What are you planning?” You asked suspiciously, he holds his hands up and grins. “Moi? Why— nothing, nothing!” You squint at him before slowly sinking back down to sit properly on the couch.

You didn’t believe that for a second.

“And when did you want to have this little festivity hm?”

He sounded eager, which had you taken aback. “Oh. . . whenever I suppose you want to. . .”

“Splendid,” He responds with a sudden cheerfulness, starting to rise from his seat. “Then I shall see you again within an hour or so!”

“Ah—“ You began as you watched him grab his hat, scarf, and coat.

“Teddy— th- the storm? There’s a winter storm outside—“

Thaddeus pauses on the threshold from the living room to the stairs and the doors leading outside. He grins playfully.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me, I have weathered worse blizzards than this on my adventures.”

Your lips purse, “Alright. . .” taking a pause before murmuring slowly, “Please be safe,”

He tips his hat before he disappears around the corner, the door opening and closing with a heavy thud.

You sink deeper into the pillows and blankets. Well! Now you have about an hour or so to worry about what your companion was up to! You sigh and swing your legs off of the couch, your socks shuffling across the candle lit room to grab a lantern.

“Come on Pip,” A rustling sound comes from another blanket pile as a little skeletal beak pokes out from its cocoon.

“You want to come wrap Teddy’s present with me?” A couple clicks from the beak in response before a shadow streams from the blanket and darts onto the floor. Pip appears on your shoulder, shaking their head back and forth as they snuggle into your neck. Brrrrrrrrr!

“It is chilly out here,” You agree as you step out into the hallway and start to climb the stairs. “We won’t be up here too long, I promise.”

The long climb to the top has you huffing softly, it was cold up in your studio, but it would have been colder still if the large black bricked buildings weren’t designed so intricately. You stop to catch your breath at the top, before entering the small room crammed with tools and art supplies.

Raising your lantern to give one final look over the painting on the easel. All those sketches of Teddy you made in your journal had paid off in the end. The portrait you had been working so hard to make over winter was finished. As finished as you had anticipated it being, a part of you felt that you could have done hours of work more if you really wanted to. This was to be your biggest gift although you had a few others that you had bought prior. You had hid the other presents just enough out of sight, but in places you knew where to look. Digging around in a drawer to pull out a couple of carefully wrapped parcels. A few of the books he loves so dearly, you had found and bought on the spot. . . And had gotten a number of strange looks as you handed over your coin. You stacked them in your arms before carefully picking up the painting.

You had. . . one other gift as well, though, this one wasn’t tangible like paintings or books. It was a confession, a true confession of love, the one you hadn’t been able to verbally express as your tongue had curled in knots. A part of you wondered if he already knew.

After he had seen the pictures you had drawn, there was a slight change to the air about him. He talked to you the same, but there was something funny, a little crease to the corners of his eyes. The way his hands would linger with yours for just a moment longer. Silent spaces with unsaid words. Or perhaps you had only begun to take more interest in the little things he did, now that you had been so close to letting your heart bleed onto your sleeve.

You tiptoed carefully back down the stairs, balancing books and painting as you walked. Pip peeped in your ear and you peek over the railing. “He said an hour Pip, surely he can’t be back already. Can you watch the door for me?”

With a snap of their beak Pip became a little blotchy shadow that fell upon the stair, darting down, down, down back to the doorway. It took you much longer to arrive at the bottom, and you cooed praises at the little robed bird sitting patiently in front of the door. Watching it with fierce determination.

You were able to wrap up your painting in a brown paper that crinkled invitingly under your fingers. You knelt on the floor, hunched over it as you folded the long leafy sides of paper over top of your handiwork and wrapped it with twine. You sat back with a triumphant huff, letting yourself rest for a spell before you reach for the large parcel and prop it against the coffee table.

And now you wait. . . Pip had rejoined you on the couch when you called to them, a little liquid shadow that shot up the side of the bed and back into the nest of blankets. You laughed at the little shadowy feet that kicked and flailed before disappearing.

By the time Thaddeus had returned you had stoked a fire in the hearth, sitting on top of the warming stone fireplace and listening to the pops of smoldering wood. The door opening had caused you to turn your head, dusting your hands off and hurrying to the entrance.

“Teddy— Oh!”

Thaddeus looked like he had only just escaped from being buried in a snow drift, his dark clothes lined with snow. You reach up to attempt to help him brush off his shoulders.

“A frigid night!” He beamed cheerfully, “How lucky I am to not feel the cold!”

“If you were out there any longer I think you would have resembled a snowman,” You teased, flecks of snow melting against your fingers and chilling them.

“Wouldn’t that be a marvelous idea? A snowman in front of my house. How about you and I go out tomorrow and make one?”

“People would have a fit!” You gawked and Thaddeus grinned, “They would, wouldn’t they? I bet Fairaway’s hair would turn white.” He chuckles at the mention of the head guard of the city and you looked slightly uneasy. “You probably shouldn’t provoke him. . .”

Thaddeus huffs, “Provoke. . . ? My dear that creature has an ill temper to begin with. I think the people around here are so old they’ve forgotten what fun is!”

You smile, taking his frigid hands into yours, leading him into the warm living room as he continues to complain.

“No more playing about snow for tonight at least,” Thaddeus amended as he sat back into his favorite chair by the fire. “I won’t make any promises about tomorrow however.” He winks at you and you laugh softly. “I don’t think I could stop you if I tried.”

Thaddeus raises inquisitive eyebrows, “Oh, I am sure you would be able to sway me into behaving,”

You blink at the comment, “Maybe what I have for you might sway you then!” Thaddeus chuckles, before peering over at the large package by the coffee table. “M-my goodness, what pray tell is that??”

You hand him the smaller packages, “Open these ones first! Save the big one for last!” Thaddeus blinks before giving you a dubious look. “I thought we were only exchanging one gift.”

You shrug with a smile, “I go overboard with gift giving, it’s a bad habit of mine.”

Thaddeus hums mischievously, reaching into his breast pocket. “You and I had the same mind I see. Though mine are a lot smaller presents I’m afraid.” He produces a few small wrapped pieces, pressing them into your palm.

You look at the tiny wrapped treasures and swallow. “. . . You go first.”

Thaddeus wears a bemused smile as he turns the parcels over in his hands. “Well. . . by first inspection they feel like books—“

“Open them!” You chirrup with a laugh, “You won’t find out unless you open them!”

Thaddeus pulls a cheeky grin, as he gently shakes them beside one of his tapered ears. Then laughs as he watches you pull a face.

“Alright, I’ve had my fun!” He giggles faintly, before beginning to open the paper. His eyes widening as he quirks a lopsided smile. “Ah! Did you really?”

He continues to pull back the binding pressing a hand to his mouth, “And these were the ones I was missing too! Ah! How thoughtful of you!” He thumbs over the binding and gives you a grin. “You didn’t read them, perchance?”

You shake your head and wave your arms. “Nuh uh!! I got them used! I definitely was not reading your pervy books!” Thaddeus gives a goofy smile, and you sweat, your voice raising. “I did NOT!” you intone, and he cackles.

“I got weird looks from just buying them!! I was too scared to look!”

“They’re really not that bad,” Thaddeus chuckles, “I am sure the couples around here get into much worse than the occupants of these books.” You shout another complaint making Thaddeus laugh again.

You pout and thumb at your own small parcels, trying to hide the contagious smile that was spreading across your face.

“Go on,” Thaddeus prompts, resting his hand upon his cheek and watching you expectantly. “I was. . . debating on buying these for you. . . for a while now. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, so I held off on them.”

“That makes me nervous,” You laugh, your fingers fiddling with the tissue paper bundles.

“Now I see why you were so impatient,” Thaddeus huffs, “The suspense is killing me!”

You stick out your tongue playfully before you push yourself to unwrap the paper. Two tiny metal work bats, with delicate and ornate detailing but sat heavy in your palm.

A wisp of a smile tugs at Teddy’s lips. “One is a brooch, and it is inscribed with my house seal. Pin that on your coat, so that no matter where you go darling, everyone will know that your home is here. And, it’s a reminder for you as well, whenever you may feel lost or unwelcome. You are always welcome here.”

Your mouth dries, turning over the brooch to look at it, taking in the details of the tiny glittering jeweled eyes, and the loop of beads that dangled from its wings.

“I-I. . . I don’t know what to say. . . th-thank you Thaddeus.”

Thaddeus flashes a quick smile, before clearing his throat, “The necklace doesn’t have as deep a meaning as the brooch. I had thought that perhaps, it would look handsome on you. You do enjoy your bat motifs, if I recall, and the city is full of that.” He laughs nervously, his unhindered hand flexing against the arm of the couch.

You felt your heartbeat a thick tattoo into your throat. “C-can you help me put it on?”

It takes Teddy a moment to stirr, his eyes darting away for a moment before he gets to his feet. “Why. . . of course darling.”

You stand with your back to him, as cold hands gently reach around your neck. His fingers fiddling with the clasp. He steps back with a little hurriedness in his stride, but beams as you turn around. “Ah yes, as expected, it suits you very well.”

You smile and shuffle your feet. “Thank you Teddy, these are beautiful. . .” You reach for the last gift, lifting it up and handing it to him.

“You’ve out done me,” He teases, “I shall have to go out into the snow and find you another gift!” You smile and shake your head, “Oh no. . . I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, so this is technically a thank you gift for letting me haunt your home.

Thaddeus scoffs as he begins to open the package. “As I have said dear I don’t mind—“ He stops mid-sentence, staring down at the painting. “I. . . O-oh my.”

You smile, shoulders shrugging up as you meekly back away towards the hearth. “It’s something I have been working on for weeks. All those sketches you saw, I was afraid it was going to ruin the surprise.” He sits down heavily, eyes still drawn to the portrait. “I think. . .” He mused faintly, “You’ve made me too handsome.”

You twitter with awkward laughter, “O-oh no! Not at all! That’s exactly how I see you.” You bit your lip, staring at your socks and curling your toes. “It’s the best painting I have ever done, actually. B-because. . . I have a lot of love and tenderness for you. You are. . . more than just a dear friend to me. M-much, much, more. Just being around you. . . makes me feel like. . .” You trail off, shaking your head and laughing. “I don’t know. . . you make me feel like, the best way I can put it is, a somebody. Somebody capable of doing things, and being things, when normally I just feel lost. A-and. . . I. . .” Your eyelids flutter closed, fist closing around the little bat that sat against your collar. “I love you.” You take a deep breath, “I love you, a lot. Your friendship is so very dear to me, and I don’t want to ruin what is between us. Honestly, I am scared that I am ruining what is between us at this very moment.”

Another breath.

“But I wanted you to know. . . just how happy you make me feel. When you’re around. Your wit and your charm, your sense of humor and your smile.”

You tense as you feel a chilly thumb press against your lips. With your eyes closed you hadn’t heard him move, too caught up in trying to keep up with the words that were flowing from your mouth.

“There are lots of things that I adore about you too.” Thaddeus muses, you twitch in surprise at just how close his voice sounded in your proximity. “Your joy, your mind,” Thaddeus’ voice laughs softly, “You make me laugh, more than I think I have around anyone else. You’re like seeing the sun again, when you smile. You’re sunshine in a bottle my dear, you brighten every crevice of this house with your presence.” You tremble as he cups your cheek.

“. . . I would. . . very much like to kiss you, if you would allow me the pleasure.”

[admirableadmiranda]

Fic dump!

Hello my dear followers! Over the holidays I posted a few fics that I did not make Tumblr posts for due to General Retail Holiday Fatigue. I am mildly recovered now, so link time!

The Brother I Choose With Open Eyes by Admiranda, a Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen bonding fic.

A foolish clan leader thinks he can insult his brother-in-law. Lan Xichen both proves him otherwise and cannot understand just why Wei Wuxian is so unbothered by such cruel words. Fortunately his brother-in-law is happy to explain. For Ashaya T'Reldai for Christmas!

The Slow Magic of Growing Things for a little event I did with my friends, a Wen Ning and Wen Qing fic.

A-Ning loves going out into the garden with his big sister and learning about everything she knows. But as he grows older, the questions he has to ask are growing too.

Softly Slumbering, where I asked my bunnies if I should do another three paragraph fic, and when I was done promptly got asked when I was going to post it.

Wei Wuxian winds down for the night in his favorite place in the world.

A friendly reminder that all of my fics are currently archive locked due to bot scraping.

Happy belated holidays to you all, and a happy early new year!

[bimboothefool]

A very special thanks to @smittenroses for inviting me to this memories over gifts event!! Apologies for my late story entry my life's been quite hectic, but hopefully in 2023 I'll be able to create my art more often! Merry belated Christmas or whichever holiday you're celebrating and a Happy New Year!! Now enough talk time for the show to begin!!

Frost settled itself against the windows that protected you and the rest of the others that live within the manor.

Currently you were reading Robbie and Memory a story, that being the Nutcracker Prince. Every time Christmas or any other holiday they'd always want you to read them a story relating to the respective holiday. It was practically tradition at this point, but it was a welcomed one.

You suggested that a story like this calls for a warm mug of hot chocolate and cookies for this occasion. They happily agreed and you put a bookmark, made your way towards the kitchen. Once you went inside with Memory and Robbie, you saw a familiar face and puppy.

“Oh hello (Y/n), Robbie. And you too Memory! What brings you three here?” Victor's amber eyes looked at you with fondness as Wick scampered over to the two children happily. “We're just here to make hot cocoa and cookies to accompany the story I'm reading.” You smiled back at Victor.

“Is that so?” Victor asked and Memory hummed eagerly as the blonde haired man laughed airily.

“Do you wanna help us?” Robbie asks awaiting Victor's answer and he nods. “Oh of course. Let's get to it.” The two kids cheered as Wick wagged his tail with glee.

~~

After the cookies and warm cocoa were made, you invited Victor to join you. He agrees and lends a helping hand, once at the library you all sat down.

Memory and Robbie eagerly awaited with baited breath as you opened the red and gold book. “Now where was I..?” You hummed as Victor sat alongside you enjoying the warmth the mug of hot chocolate and your smile provided.

~~

Both Robbie and Memory fell asleep a little after they finished their drinks, Wick slept as he was nestled in between them. You felt Victor nudged your side and your heart warmed at the wholesome sight before you.

“Let's get them back to their rooms.” You agreed with Victor's suggestion. Victor held Memory and you carried Robbie. Wick yawned and stretched, shaking off his sleepiness. He walked with the two of you.

“That story always excites me, especially whenever I imagine the scenes.” Victor's smile held fondness for that memory. “Really, now. I find myself casting our friends in those roles sometimes.” This piqued Victor's interest.

You both started chattering about who'd be what in the Nutcracker. “Vera as the Sugar Plum Fairy sounds oddly fitting for her!” Victor chuckled at the idea and he added in. “Luca would probably be the Rat King, given how much energy he exudes.” You laughed at the mental image that he's painted in your head.

Soon you blurted out. “I think you'd be the Prince.” Victor's amber eyes widened as his jaw slightly dropped. “Oh sorry, was that a bit too out there??” You worriedly asked, hoping you didn't startle him.

Victor shook his head and mumbled out, with a flustered smile. “Personally I see you as Clara… Truthfully I wouldn't mind protecting you…” You stopped with your heartbeat picking up speed. “Really..?” Your voice was soft for that moment, he nodded with a loving look in his eyes. “Of course, you'll always be the one who I'll cherish and adore.”

You couldn't contain your smile, even after all these years or however long you two have been lovers in this manor. He still knew what to say that makes his words feel like Cupid's arrow. The two of you are always falling in love over and over again.

“Same goes for you Victor…”

~~

Once the two kids were back in their rooms, you two headed for the ballroom. You took notice of the entrance, a mistletoe was hanging above the two of you. “What are you looking at?” Victor's amber eyes trail to your line of sight as he feels his heart flutter. “O–Oh…”

“It's tradition isn't it?” You cheekily teased, tapping your lips. “Ye–Yes it is…” You cupped his cheeks and went in for a soft romantic kiss. He slowly kisses you back, enjoying the warmth of the kiss.

The two of you broke the kiss and stared into each other's eyes lovingly. “Shall we make haste and dance the night away?” You hummed yes to Victor's question. He took your hand, placing a light kiss on your knuckles. He held your arm as he led you to the large ballroom. Ready to dance with you to his heart's content.

[lightlycareless]

happy belated halloween!! for another fluffy ask to fill the void- what would naoya, naoaki, and y/n would have dressed up as for halloween as kids?? (pretending as if the zenins wouldn't have been awful spoil-sports and actually LET either of them celebrate,,)

Hello!!!! And happy Halloween to you too!!!

First of all, thank you so much for your patience! This one-shot certainly took more than what I expected to finish it, but in my defense, allot of things happened hahahaha Also, I received it just when I was going through a very hard personal time, so reading your fluff request arrived just in the right time. Thank you 🥺❤

But now that I'm on a small holiday from work, I'll be able to do a lil bit more of writing :> Starting with this request that I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVED writing. Let's say that I filled some very needed fluffy needs that the main fic deprived me of 😳

Now, without further ado, here are the warnings of this chapter:

Overprotective!Eiichi (a.k.a Y/N's dad) Delusional!Naoya, Oblivious!Naoaki, and Protective!Ren and Hinata lol. Minako and Tomoko want a normal day out. Y/N is just living her life, happy as it always should. Also, I took this oneshot as the perfect excuse to develop a bit more of Eiichi (although it's more about him lol), Minako (Y/N's mom) and... well, have what we probably wont have on the angsty shitshow I created on the other story haha.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! Super long oneshot under the cut.

When Minako, your mother, told Eiichi, your father, that she intended to celebrate Halloween with Tomoko and her family, he… was hesitant to agree.

No, scratch that. He wasn’t hesitant, he was in absolute defiance. 

And it’s not because of personal animosity towards Tomoko—far from that. He’d actually met the woman on a previous occasion and they got along quite well. She was generous and funny, the kind of person that made you feel welcomed, seen. 

And all of this is without taking into account Minako's undying admiration for her: Because when it came to incorporating new people into their social circle—or, more specifically, his family—his spouse's opinion was highly regarded.

Both knew that if Tomoko came along, their kids would be in good hands.

In other words, he did not hold any negative remarks about her.

It was her husband that he disliked very much.

Eiichi had no idea how a much older man like Naobito could have gotten together with a much younger woman like Tomoko, much less marry her and subsequently have six children together!

«Oh, that poor woman» he muses, reminiscing back on the many times where Eiichi would find himself silently conmenming Naobito’s actions. 

Starting from Minako dropping everything on the spot and rushing to her friend's side as soon as she learned that her pregnancy was one of high risk—the one that introduced Naofumi into the world. Tomoko’s world was slowly turning into one of chaos and concern, and Naobito was seemingly nowhere to be found, limiting himself to subsidizing her with any medical attention she and their son would need, as if emotional support didn’t matter.

Or when he did the exact opposite when their youngest child was born. From the stoic, distant father he was with their previous 5 children, he was now all over her when it came to their 6th. All because he was to be the heir. And although that was an agreement that was struck many years later… Eiichi suspected Naobito already had a hunch.

Nonetheless, your father knew very well that prying in their business would do more harm than good, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t harbor a certain degree of distaste towards Tomoko’s husband, the consistent reason of why he’s always so averse towards Minako and their children visiting the Zen’in estate—why did they even need to maintain amicable relationships with their competitors?! Aren’t the Gojo’s and the Kamo’s sufficient enough??— or subsequently inviting him to these gatherings.

To make matters worse, Naobito wasn’t just careless towards his wife, he was also inconsiderate of his children’s fun. Once he starts feeling bored, he’d hurry them to leave every few seconds until one of them budges, like the aggravating buzz of a mosquito he just couldn’t wait to get rid of.

Well, there’s no use to dwell on things he can’t change, more so when Tomoko insisted that Naobito was a rather good husband and father when no one was around to see, he was just too busy as the head of one of the biggest companies in Japan, and too shy to demonstrate otherwise on the public (he has an image to uphold, after all, one that suits well with old money)

«Shy» Eiichi scoffed at the label Tomoko would use one day. An adjective that he never thought could be used to describe Naobito, an obnoxious, crude man.

But if she’s content with their relationship… they’ll support it.

However, once he was informed that only Tomoko and her children would be the ones assisting, none of these things continued to matter.

An announcement that cleanses him with relief as he could finally focus on what really matters. On the actual significance of this occasion!

And what made it so special, you ask?

Well… it's nothing short of his baby's first Halloween spent trick-or-treating!!

Oh, it was a moment both he and his wife had looked forward to for a long time now! 

… To much of their unexpected surprise.

Halloween is generally regarded as an appropriate activity for children thanks to all the activities that take place: such as dressing up, going out to get candy, and even pumpkin carving! It goes without saying that a fun night was certainly guaranteed if any of these were involved.

So, one could only imagine the shock your parents were received with when you, who had just become old enough to participate in such a celebration, stood heavily against it.

But that didn’t deter them. In fact, they tried to convince you by going into heavy detail of the previously listed activities, sweetening the deal by how fun it would be if you’d participated with your siblings and friends!

… To no avail.

Thus, a different approach was to be taken.

Eiichi, knowing your sweet tooth, attempted to bribe you with candies that were exclusive to the season, flavors that would not appear again, that is, until next year. 

And it seemed to work judging by the way your chubby hands snatched the offering out of his grasp as soon as you locked eyes on it. 

You’d then hum along to his words, giving them the impression you were actually considering their invitation…

Only to go behind their backs and grant them a dose of reality by rejecting them once you ate all of the candies.

Minako, startled by your enigmatic answer, began to search for the reason behind your rejection. Was it because you’ve unwittingly stumbled onto the scary side of Halloween?

If that were the case, then she couldn’t blame you.

There were certain participants that leaned into the dark aspect of this time. Defined from gruesome to frightening, classifications that were solely made with the intention of provoking unsettlement, something hardly appropriate or desirable for children your age.

And that didn’t limit to imagery, of course… There were also people who breathed life into these depictions through costumes, transforming themselves into a walking nightmare.

If somehow these turned out to be the factors that pushed you away from enjoying Halloween, then Minako feared no reasoning could help you see differently. Not when you’ve rejected them so many times already.

That was not the case, however— At least not entirely.

Turns out that the biggest reason behind your lack of participation was because of large crowds.

Up until now, the only instances you've ever seen of Halloween being celebrated was via the unruly, overcrowded parties that took place in the sleepless streets of Ikebukuro through broadcasted segments you’ve stumbled upon when watching T.V. alongside your older brother, Ren. 

And you, prone to growing anxious before large groups of strangers, needed no other justification to stay as far away from it as possible. You’ve seen enough of it, in full color and in high quality (as good as it can be with a television dating from ‘97) to not believe in your parents' contrasting words.

So that’s the whole truth of what you believed Halloween to be in the early years of your life: heavily crowded parties with ugly costumes.

But now that the problem was out in broad daylight, your parents could decisively assess an efficient solution. Thus, they came up with a secure and tranquil version of a halloween festivity: Trick-or-treating in a nearby familiar village, owned by none other than your clan.

For the influential leaders of the L/N clan, creating a safe space with the support of the inhabitants of said village (after providing the enough financing to do so) was an easy task, as well as the bare minimum when it came to their children's comfort and happiness. Nothing was out of their reach if it pertained to Ren, Hinata, and you.

Besides, Minako wanted to indulge in something private for once, especially after she began to feel the mental fatigue of having to roam through large crowds. So she wasn’t very disappointed when this change of plans occurred.

This could also be beneficial for the village’s kids, to motivate a sense of closeness inside the community as well as provide distraction from mundane everyday tasks to remember what life is all about. 

And while at it, this also worked as a good excuse to see Tomoko again. They've been wanting to catch up for the longest time, and now that their schedules finally match… it's the perfect opportunity! 

So, after arranging a meeting with the representative of the village, Minako and Eiichi managed to form an agreement with the inhabitants to organize a small version of a festival with all expenses accounted for, in exchange of borrowing their facilities to create an area where everyone is invited to have fun.

Fast forward to Halloween night, children and parents alike partake in a hurried frenzy to oversee the last details of their perfect trick-or-treating outing before departure.

“I still wish Y/N would’ve dressed up as something scary… like Sadako from the ring!” Eiichi laments, for he’d always been an avid fan of horror and there’s nothing he would’ve liked more than to share this with his family.

He genuinely believes it would’ve been hilarious to see his adorable young daughter dressed up as a popular horror icon, more so if he taught you how to deliver a convincing portrayal of the well-dwelling ghost in hopes of scaring at least an unsuspecting passerby.

“That’s too scary for a kid her age, dear” Minako’s soft voice interrupts his thoughts and grounds him back to reality by reminding him as to why that was a bad idea. “Besides, this is her first time dressing up. It’s only fair that she chooses what she wants to wear"

Maybe once you’re a few years older, she would support his suggestion. 

After all, she held the same opinion when it came to dressing you, the youngest of their kids, as something that frightened many, and continued to do so years after the novel and movie were released. 

It would certainly be amusing to see how an adorable girl like you could pull off something as scary as Sadako. But just as they discussed before, you were too young to be consuming any horror material, and adding that this night was your first time going out for candy (after much insisting, that is) they had to be careful to not do anything that might push you to reject them again. 

So, doing what any good parent would do, they kept off limits any media that was unsuitable for your age whilst supporting your decision when it came to your costume.

However, being married for over a decade, and known each other for far longer, Eiichi had grown to distinguish each of your mother's tones, mannerisms, and even subtle facial expressions to understand that sometimes what she says, doesn’t actually reflect what she intends.

And that’s exactly what’s happening: Minako hid an underlying aim behind her words, and once he was sure of this, a grin parted his lips before proceeding to retaliate with this newfound fulfillment.

“But that's not what you really think, do you?"

Minako shoots him a quick glance, an expression so stern that makes Eiichi feel he might’ve misjudged her circumstances, to which he’s more than ready to apologize for… that is, until his wife sighs dramatically, the facade falling off her face and revealing the true nature of her emotions.

“Oh, of course not!” She cries, placing her hands over Eiichi’s shoulders and rattling him gently to emphasize her frustration “We finally got the 3 of them to go out on Halloween! It was the perfect time to dress them up in matching costumes!!"

To say that your mother had been dreaming of this moment since she started a family with your father, would be an understatement. 

She always loved the idea of forming a family of her own, having kids, raising them, watching them grow and become successful on their own… overall, she yearned for a domestic life.

There was one thing that she looked forward to particularly the most, however, and that was partaking in celebrations together, such as Halloween.

It wouldn’t be the first time she'd seen either of her children in costumes, of course. She’d dressed Ren, Hinata, and you before on each 31’st of October for as long as she can remember.

But this was the first time her 3 kids would be actively going out together, so it was only natural that she wanted to show them off! Thus, she prepared herself accordingly for their costumes, taking inspiration from none other than one of her favorite artists.

For your older brother Ren, she'd gotten a custom made black tuxedo with a white undershirt, black bowtie, black dress shoes, and of course, the iconic baggy crystal socks that would pull the whole look together— although your mother knew that Ren's charming smile would be the one to do the job.

Moving onto Hinata, Minako would go a bit bold and get the head-to-toe leather outfit, decorated with a wide array of belts and buckles that would jingle whenever she moved, all while making sure it remained both stylish and comfortable enough for her courageous daughter to keep on adventuring— but even if the seamstress didn't manage to mix these two factors, Minako knew that this wouldn’t stop Hinata from doing what she wanted.

And finally, you. Your mother had gone for another two piece suit, but contrary to Ren's, yours was to be white. You'd also wear a black shirt for contrast, but matching a black belt. A golden handkerchief tucked in the coat's pocket to accessorize, and lastly, but not least, a plushie tiger that would serve as the figurative cherry on top to complete the reference she intended to portray.

Everything was perfectly set in her mind. With clothes and styling ready to go, all that she needed to do was organize a photography session to immortalize this precious moment, which she was already a few steps ahead due to ongoing talks with a photographer she’d found through a friend’s recommendation.

But even with all this preparation, it was never meant to be, for her children had other plans. And always the supportive parent, she decided to put her wishes to the side and make the three happy. 

"I can always do so another day" she reassures to herself "And we could also do something just for the 5 of us. On a day you don’t have to work"

"Ah, don't even remind me." Eiichi groans, forehead furrowed as he reflects on his unlucky night that’s yet to start. 

He’d already set in stone that he was going to accompany his family for trick-or-treating, more than ready to put everything on the line to be there, but an unexpected emergency at work would put a screeching halt to his plans. 

Your father tried getting out of this predicament by appointing someone else to take care of this problem, but since the corporate world doesn’t really care about western celebrations, as well as him being the main head of the company, he had to set an example and oversee the issue personally.

Sometimes, he just can’t help but feel that life is playing a twisted game with him—but all things considered, that’s only your father being dramatic as usual.

"You don't know how awful it feels to be away from my family on this important night” he deplored, looking down to the ground.

"I can imagine… but don't fret, dear. I’ve already prepared myself with the best available camera to take pictures!” Miano exults, eyes sparkling with unparalleled enthusiasm. “Leave it all to me!...”

She then takes his hand, giving him a coy smile.

“And who knows, maybe I’ll give you a consolation prize”

Eiichi blushes. Even after all these years together, she still manages to fluster him.

“I—I’d like that” he sheepishly admits, and Minako can’t hold herself from pecking his lips, a gesture that she would’ve prolonged had they not started to run late by now. 

“But for now we have to check if the kids are ready! I told Tomoko-san that we would be meeting up at the village and I don’t want to make her wait!” Minako points out.

“Ah, yes, of course” Eiichi nods as he lifts his wrist to look over to his watch, relief washing over him upon realizing they’re still over an hour and a half away before their meeting time. But if he considered ETA to the village, which was around 20 minutes, and if the kids weren’t ready… “Looks like we still have time, but we gotta hurry the kids if we wanna be there before her at least”

“Let’s go then”

Minako and Eiichi rush through the familiar path leading to the living quarters as they greet the many servants that saluted them back, without relenting their speed.

After a few minutes, the couple finds themselves only a few yards away from the area where they know their children are getting ready. They slow down to regain their breath, and Eiichi takes this moment to voice one of his many, many concerns for tonight.

"I'm glad Naobito isn’t coming" Eiichi begins “Can’t imagine the way he’d ruin this night for us”

“I know, I know” Minako attempts to soothe his unjustified anxiety, for he already knew it would only be Tomoko and her boys. 

However, just as he’s capable of uncovering her hidden intentions through her words, she’s competent enough to do the same. And by the way he decided to bring up this topic seemingly out of nowhere while unwittingly tensing his shoulders, she knows he’s been holding back something possibly out of fear, and it’s in her duties to ease him by reminding him that he can trust her, and everything will be fine.

“Just think about the kids and their fun. Besides, you know Tomoko-san would never put our children in harm's way”

“...I know. I'd trust her with my life, but you know Tomoko has never been my concern… I… I just don’t like the fact that a bunch of boys are going to be around my baby girls! And when I'm not there!!”

And there it is. The other reason as to why he'd been so on edge about this whole ordeal once it was revealed the Zen'in kids would attend. 

Sure, he disliked Naobito and worried non-stop when the prospect of his presence was up to debate, but now that that matter was settled, his mind couldn't wait to jump onto another topic to torture himself with—it was just his nature.

Or was it always the main factor behind his initial reluctance…?

Eiichi never held back when it came to voicing just how overprotective he was when it came to his children, a sentiment that he'd carried ever since Minako revealed to be pregnant for the first time.

A feeling that grew when Ren was born.

Worsening when Satoru began to lurk around the estate whenever he apparently didn’t have anything better to do—unwanted attempts from the elders to cultivate better relationships with other influential clans.

Reaching an all time high when you, the youngest of the family and the last one to leave the nest, started going to school.

Growing in a society where men were not expected to contribute in the domestic part of marriage, Minako was glad that Eiichi was very involved and protective of his family, even going as far as to perceive it as cute. 

But having gone through this ordeal many times without anything major happening, she’s starting to believe that perhaps his concerns are leaning more into the irrational side of things.

Eitherway, your mother assumes she can’t be too harsh on him, considering that the Zen’in kids were boys in their totality, a fact that led Eiichi to hyperfocus on you and your sister. 

Had they been girls, Ren would be the recipient of his attention—same story, different protagonists.

“I only agreed to this because you wanted and… well, Ren is also going and I trust him to keep them away from our daughters!” he goes on.

“They’re not going to do anything, Eiichi" Minako reiterates, feeling guilty that her husband was unfairly dumping a non-corresponding responsibility on his oldest son on a night that was supposed to be fun. One that he should take to relax as well! "They’re going to be fine, besides, they’re too young to be thinking about girls or boys! Look at our babies, the only thing they’re looking forward to is getting candy!”

Finding no point to debate, Eiichi concedes with a soft “I guess so…” 

Because if there was one thing that always helped him calm down when stress was eating him alive, was his wife’s candid nature.

Minako was never one to lie… At least of important matters, because he's caught her one too many times engaging in late night snacking when she was supposed to be sleeping, or binging through the tapes of recorded episodes from the shows they were supposed to watch together, but that's a topic for another time.

So, without anything else to bring to the table, the conversation arrives at a swift end. And just as they arrived at the room their children were in, quickly identified as Hinata’s room thanks to the sunflower stickers placed around the frame

Eiichi steps forward and steadily grasps the shoji door open, revealing the following sight:

Just by the vanity table on the far right of the room, a readied Hinata was looming over you with the intention of helping you into your clothes, asking you to place your hands on her shoulders as she extended the bottom part of your attire for you to slide your feet in. 

You tried to fight her off, reminding her that you were more than capable of dressing up yourself, but Hinata heard no reasoning, not when she wanted you to look as perfect as possible. Demonstrating just how excited she was for going out with you on halloween for the first time ever.

Across from the girls, on the other side of the room, sat Ren by the edge of the futon, already in costume, patiently waiting for his sisters to finish.

He actually tried to help you too, but Hinata, being the type of person who liked to do everything herself, ended up pushing him aside.

Not wanting to waste his energy on something he knows he won’t be able to change, Ren decides to let this go and instead focus on distracting himself by playing with the edges of his sleeves until it was time for their parents to pick them up—all while keeping an attentive eye on his sisters if anything rises to the occasion.

Too engrossed in their respective activities, neither of the kids failed to acknowledge the presence of their parents, who were already inside the room. That is, until Minako closes the door a bit too loud which causes them to snap their heads in their direction.

“Mom! Dad!” With a toothy grin adorning her lips, Hinata is the first one to greet “We’re almost done!! I just need to get Y/N-chan ready, get my hat, and we’re ready!”

“And a jacket" Minako says upon noticing her daughter to be wearing a basic light blue colored dress t-shirt underneath a navy blue vest; to make matters more surprising, the shirt is not even the one she got custom made for her, the one with long sleeves and thermal fabric to provide warmth during a cold autumn evening. 

Where did Hinata even get this?

«I'm 100% sure it was Sumire's mom» Minako rightfully assumes. «And I can already see how it happened. Hina-chan probably used her puppy eyes to get her this shirt instead… I really have to tell them to stop pampering my kids!»

"But mom… nobody is going to get what I'm dressed as if I’m wearing the other one" Hinata whines, but Minako is stronger than Sumire's mother when it comes to resisting her adorable pouts and thus, does not relent.

"No. You're going to get sick, besides, the jacket is also in the official uniform so I assure you everyone is going to know what you’re dressed as" 

“Justice will keep me warm!” Hinata retaliates, and Minako just laughs.

“Alright, officer” Eiichi chuckles, going ahead to retrieve the jacket hanging from the nearby closet and handing it over to her  “You still have to wear it”

“...Fine” Hinata sighs, taking the jacket from her dad’s hands and wearing it once and for all. Once ready, your sister immediately springs back to aiding you, but before she’s able to grasp the slider from your zipper, your father steps in.

“I’ll take it from here, Hinata. Go help mom get the rest of the things instead” he gestures over to Minako and Hinata nods.

“...Ok dad!” Ren concludes that the only people capable of swaying Hinata away from her determination are their parents, wondering if that’s a skill that could be harbored one day as he’s being pulled towards their mom by her younger sister.

Once by their side, Minako places her hands behind their backs and gently guides them out of the room, giving one last glance back to her husband before stepping out.

“See you at the entrance, dear” She says, and with that, she closes the door.

No longer hearing their distant footsteps, Eiichi glimpses back at you to immediately notice something�� peculiar.

“Why are you making that face?” he asks, proceeding to kneel down to your eye-level. At this height, he’s able to take a better look at your curious face and he can’t stop a chuckle from bubbling past his lips: brows pressed together, eyes shut tight and lips pressed into a thin line, all whilst standing perfectly still, you were the epitome of concentration that undeniably contrived from Hinata’s influence.

“Hina-chan told me to not move or I would ruin my costume” You disclose “Don’t talk to me papa, I don’t want to mess my costume!”

“That’s not really necessary” He corrects, moving a strand of hair away from your forehead and threading it behind your right ear “Breathe, Y/N. You’re turning blue”

And as if by command, you deflate before him with a deep exhale, a reaction that earns you a warm smile and a pat on the head from him.

Now that you’re comfortable, he goes ahead and performs the last adjustment on your costume by pulling your zipper all the way to the top.

“There, it’s done” Eiichi informs, standing up in hopes of getting a better look at you and catch any details he might’ve missed. “How do you feel? Comfortable? Cold? Itchy? Or do you maybe want to wear something else? Mama has another��”

“No!” Your cry, shaking your head and putting an abrupt halt to his redundant barrage of questions. Because just as your parents and siblings were excited to have this night out with you, you too wanted it to be as perfect as possible, under your own terms!  “I want to wear this one!” 

“Alright, alright” he concedes, raising his hands as a sign of surrender “I just want to make sure you’re not cold on your first night trick-or-treating”

“I’m not cold” You confess, in fact, you don’t even think it possible considering you were wearing the two long-sleeved shirts mom had given you to wear underneath your onesie, as if the latter wasn’t made of polar fleece already.

A preemptive strategy Minako was astute to take, for she was all too familiar with your tendency of running cold throughout the night. And she couldn’t call herself a good mother if she let you go out underdressed, could she?

But how about overdressing? 

Eiichi didn’t need to pry further beyond your red cheeks to understand he’d asked the wrong question.

“Are you running hot?”

You press your lips together once more and hum, permission enough for him to ease from you cotton constraints.

“Is that better?”

“Yes” you nod, and now that you’re free of the shackles of warmth, you’re finally able to focus on what’s keeping you filled with emotion “I want candy!! Candy! Candy! Candy!”

“Someone’s excited to go trick-or-treating” He smiled, holding you carefully before lifting you up to his chest “If there’s nothing more I need to do, let’s go meet mama and your siblings”

“Trick-or-teething!” you cheered again, wiggling your arms in the air.

“Treating” He corrected.

“Teething”

“Treating”

“Teething”

You frown out of confusion, failing to understand why your father was correcting you for saying the world correctly—or so you perceived.

He’d continue to insist a few more times, stopping only at the sight of his wife and children by the car. 

It’s only then that he realized this was a fruitless endeavor, for even after all his attempts, you’d continue to pronounce treating as you could.

However, he didn’t let this fact place much weight in his mind, for he knew that this was an issue that would resolve itself with time. Nothing more than a pet peeve of the moment that he wouldn’t allow to distract him from his beloved family any longer.

So once everything is accounted for and the group is safely secured inside the car, Eiichi turns on the engine and drives onto their next destination.

“We’re here!” Minako sang once the bright lights of the village became clear on the horizon. It’s a tune that efficiently snaps the children’s attention to her, prompting the same energy she presented once their eyes fell on the same view.

“Are you excited Y/N-chan?!” Hinata turns over to you, securely seated between your siblings. Any big family would understand the unspoken agreement of the youngest sitting in the middle, and while it never usually lingered in your attention, there were times you’d want to switch sides with your siblings just so you could see what’s outside—like today.

“Yes!!” You say, wiggling your short legs in the air as you stretch your neck to see past Hinata and outside the window, only to be disappointed when all that received you was the astounding darkness of the countryside. “Mama, how much longer until we get there?”

“Just a few minutes” Eiichi answers instead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror to awe at the excitement of his children, only to frown upon sensing  a growing commotion behind him thanks to the thumping on the back of his seat, courtesy of a cheeky Ren.  “Hold on to your seats until we park, kids. Or I won’t let you get off the car”

The warning he issues is enough to calm them down into the manageable level of stifled giggles and hushed whispers. He wanted them to be enthusiastic, of course, but not at the expense of his driving.

And just as he forecasted, it wouldn’t take long before the paved road transformed into one of dirt, noticeable by the change in sound coming from the tires, signaling their arrival to the village.

Eiichi drove deeper and deeper into the village, wanting to get them as close as possible to the meeting point, a small grocery store located on the main street, just between a pharmacy and a coffee shop. 

Eventually finding a parking spot, your father parks and turns off the engine.

The noise of the motor quieting down is the only cue the children needed to unfasten their seatbelts, with Hinata helping you to unbuckle yours and subsequently getting out of the car, before sprinting towards the trunk. All this with such an impressionable speed that didn’t even allow their parents to formally announce their arrival.

“Daaaaad, open the trunk!!” Hinata says while perilously pressing the button placed on the trunk’s handle, further denoting her desperation, much to Eiichi’s agony “daaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!”

“Hold on, sunflower. You know papa doesn’t like it when you do that to his car” Minako reminds as she walks towards them, to which Hinata immediately retracts her hand, shame on her face as she pouts a muted “I’m sorry”

“Just be careful” Eiichi echoed as he unlocked the trunk and pulled the hatch open “I know how excited you are to go out with your sister and brother, but just remember to be a bit more… calm, when Tomoko-san is here with her kids, alright?”

He knows it’s a running joke between him and his wife to announce how much he dislikes Naobito and what not… but he’s still competent enough to understand that his children are a separate identity from him. They were also Tomoko's children, and he wouldn’t like it if his children added more to her already full plate by being rude.

That doesn’t mean he’s not going to encourage her to raise hell if any of them decides to do something funny towards them, he’s just asking her to be a bit more… considerate when they’re around.

“Ok…?” Hinata and Ren confusedly look at each other, finding his warning to be a bit unnecessary… for they had no issues with Tomoko, whom they’d grown to admire due to her amazing storytelling, cooking, and kindness, so they wouldn’t even dream of insulting her!!

Her children, however, they’re something else. In fact, there’s one kid in particular your siblings are desperately hoping he wouldn’t be able to attend… but that’s an answer that will only reveal itself once they’re here.

For now, they’ll focus on getting their baskets out of the trunk.

“Thank you, Ren-nii” You smile as you take the basket from his grasp. Being too short to reach into the compartment, less when most of the items were located on the far side of the same, left you in an unwanted predicament of needing help. Thankfully, your older brother being the taller of the 3, was able to jump into your aid, just like he always did when things were out of reach for either.

“You’re welcome, sis” he says, giving you a smile of his own, making your grin grow even wider.

“Where did you tell Tomoko to meet up again?” Eiichi asks as he looks at their surroundings, realizing there’s nobody there yet. A fear of having mistaken her directions begins to creep in the back of his mind.

“Just outside this store” Minako gestures to the convenience store as she takes out her phone. She didn't want to voice it out loud, but seeing her husband’s worried reaction has caused her to feel the same, forcing herself to alleviate this uncertainty by reviewing their past messages, or checking if she’d received any new ones.

Her shoulders relax upon realizing there are no new unread messages on her notification center that might imply they’re in the wrong location, however, the clock did inform that Tomoko was running late, and these two factors often led the sender to imagine the worst possible scenarios.

“I’ll just text her we’re here then” Minako informs, unlocking her cell phone and typing a quick, straightforward we're here, before sending it.  “Done. Let’s wait over here in the meanwhile”

“Alright” Eiichi gathers the children and leads them away from the store’s entrance, so as to avoid blocking the path of oncoming traffic, which really didn’t complain much about, too focused on greeted the people they quickly recognized as the leaders of the L/N clan, as well as complimenting their children’s costumes.

“I wonder what kind of candy we’re getting this year” Hinata ponders, looking back to last year's successful harvest, which she’d naturally shared with you. “I wouldn’t mind getting more lemon gum so I can give them to Satoru and see his ugly face twist” she darkly chuckles.

“That’s weird, Hinata” Ren twists his mouth in disapproval, why did Hinata have to be so weird with Satoru? “Anyways, what about you, sis? What kind of candy do you want to get on your first Halloween out?”

And so, you begin to think: first remembering the pumpkin lollipop your father gave you, before moving onto your mother’s pumpkin and chocolate candy, back when they were trying to bribe you into going out tonight.

But as much as the seasonal flavors were delectable to your tongue and wouldn’t mind getting more… none stood a chance against your all time favorite.

“I want mo—”

“Oh, look who it is!” Minako’s shrills as a familiar black car passes before them, the noise pausing your and your siblings' conversation in favor of seeking their mother “It’s Tomoko-san, she’s finally here!”

“Wait a…” Eiichi whispers upon catching two peculiar observations: first, the size of the car which he considers to be unsuitable for a family of 8. Second, the person sitting on the driver’s seat, a foreign face that would later have him boiling with anger once recognized.  «Seriously? Naobito couldn’t even bother dropping them off himself?»

His worries would eventually switch recipients when the luxurious car comes to a full stop just a few feet away from them, with the door swinging open to reveal the first attendant of the night, the eldest of her children— 14 year old Naoaki.

“Naoaki-kun! Over here!” your mother sang as she waved at the teenager, who grinned in turn before turning back and helping his mom and his youngest brother, a 7 year old Naoya, out of the car. 

The small boy wasn’t too keen on this action though, evident by the way he sulked past his brother’s offering hand and darted straight to his mother’s side.

“Come on, let’s receive them!” Minako urges towards her family.

“Uh, honey… are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Eiichi says, taking the lead and guiding the children right behind her.

“Eiichi, don’t start now”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I hope I didn’t make you wait that long…” Tomoko breathes as she rushes towards your group while pulling the hand of her youngest. “I had to make a few stops, but we’re finally here!”

“It’s nice to see you again, Tomoko-san. But… aren’t you missing half of your entourage?” Eiichi acknowledges the elephant in the room, glancing over to her two out six children, and while it’s nothing more than an innocent, genuine question from his part, it’s his wording that has Minako swiftly elbowing him as a form of reprimanding. “Ow!”

“Oh, that’s fine” Tomoko chuckles, dismissing her friend’s worry by following up Eiichi’s statement “I wasn’t counting on you two to not notice I’m missing 4 boys for tonight”

“You were thinking it too, Minako” Eiichi jests back, and she rolls her eyes while smirking.

“Yeah, but I would’ve said it differently” Minako says  “Anyways, is everything ok?”

“I wish” Tomoko sighs “Naofumi wasn’t feeling that well for the past few days, so it’s only right that I didn’t bring him along. As for the rest… well, you know how siblings are, if one of them says no, it’s more than likely that the others will mirror them”

“Tell me about it” Your mother agrees with a chuckle “But that’s awful, what does he have? Is he ok?”

“Do you need medicine? We can help you with that” Eiichi offers. Your parents could only imagine what poor Naofumi is going through, always the feeble one… it’s terrible that of  nights, he had to get sick on this one.

“Oh, thank you, but it’s fine. Naobito already covered everything. Still, I wish I could’ve stayed behind to take care of him… but I don’t think it would be fair for those that wanted to come” Tomoko responds, nudging towards the small boy beside her, whom she smiles warmly at once he glances up at her “Junko-san insisted on helping me out, to which I rejected profusely since she’s pregnant and I didn’t want her to get any more stress than necessary… but that’s stubborn Junko-san to you…”

“How could I forget that!” Your mother gasps, clasping her hands together “That’s wonderful! And after all that she had to struggle… She deserves this happiness. Tomoko-san, you need to tell me everything!”

“Umm…as much as I would’ve liked the two of you to keep talking… I think there’s some small matters to tend to” He says, referring to the pairs of eyes that were tensely looking at them, as if telling them to hurry up so they can get candy.

He hated playing devil’s advocate and having to rush the two good friends who were only catching up after not seeing each other for a while, but if they wanted to participate in all the activities planned for that evening, they would have to adhere to the schedule.

Besides, he too had to leave in a matter of moments if he was to get to work on time as well.

“I also have to leave in a bit” Eiichi eventually reveals, much to Tomoko’s surprise.

“What? You’re not staying?” She gasps, a noise that pushes the already settled seeds of guilt deeper into his chest.

A statement he was genuinely afraid to communicate, for it meant finally informing his children that he would be absent. Eiichi wanted to keep this fact a secret for as long as he could, in hopes of avoiding a sourful reaction from appearing on his kid’s faces, but that was nothing more than wishful thinking.

However, he didn’t count on the shattering of his heart, that is, until he heard your soft voice speaking up in the representation of your and your sibling's thoughts.

It’s time to face the lights.

“You’re not staying… papa?”

“No, little one, I gotta go to work” he says crouching down to your level “Something came up and I gotta go fix it”

“…Can’t someone else go?” you debate. “I don’t want you to leave”

“No, it’s something that I have to do personally” He apologizes, but his words do nothing to alleviate the overwhelming feeling both are feeling for his departure. And upon noticing this, Minako steps in.

“Papa is very important in his job, so there are things that only he can do” Your mother explained. “That’s why he has to be there”

You give her words a few seconds of thought, doing your best to process what it meant to be the only person who would do a certain job; or your father’s importance at his company. But it still didn’t make sense to you. Couldn’t someone else’s dad go instead of yours?

“…I guess” you eventually relent, feeling the hopelessness of nothing changing even if you tried. You would come to understand this situation with time, but it wouldn’t make it any less upsetting. “But don’t take too long! Or you won’t get candy!” 

“I certainly won’t give you candy” Hinata says as she crosses her arms. She’s acting indifferently, but Eiichi knows that deep inside, it’s only a facade to hide how hurt she truly felt.

“I’ll think about it” Ren shrugs, and just like his daughter, it’s an act to hide the fact that they’re going to miss him.

“Well, how about you save some for me, hmm?” He asks, gently tapping your nose with his index finger, a gesture that has you scrunching your face, but immediately folding to his request.

“Ok, but I’ll only give you the ones I don’t like” You compromise, extending your little finger “Pinky promise!!”

“Fair trade” he agrees, intertwining his finger with yours, an adequate exchange for having to miss out on spending time with his kids, or so he assumes. “But promise me something, that you’ll have fun even if I’m not here—and that you’ll let your mother take pictures!” Eiichi says, now referring to all of his children.

You, Hinata and Ren nod in agreement. Eiichi was about to stand up to get ready for his departure, but your tackle of a hug stops him from doing so. A sight that causes Tomoko and Minako to awe in adoration.

Eiichi melts into your hug as long as he can before having to regretfully pull himself away from your short arms and onto the rest of his kids, who were seemingly hesitant to accept his hugs, but didn’t move away until he did.

He’d then approach his wife to give her a kiss on the lips and a hug as well. A gesture to show his overwhelming love for her, of course… but accompanied by ulterior motives.

“Pleasepleaseplease take lots of pictures, until you run out of film if necessary!—but don’t take any of the boys! I don’t want them in the family album with our babies” He whispers against her ear, low enough to avoid Tomoko’s ears, but clear enough for Minako to roll her eyes in incredulity—Eiichi being dramatic, yet again “Please”

“Eiichi, relax. Just go do your work and let me worry about the photos” she kisses again, placing her hand over his cheek and caress him in reassurement “Good luck, dear”

“Goodbye Tomoko-san. Please be sure to let Minako know if you need anything” Eiichi offers, before looking to her kids “...Naoya, Naoaki”

“Goodbye, L/N-san” Naoaki responds with a nod “And please don’t stress. I’ll be here to help okaa-san and Minako-san with the kids” 

Eiichi blinks.

He knows it’s not right to have opinions of… kids in general. They’re just children after all, they have yet to grow and mature into capable adults… but he just can’t help it! More so when he’s taken aback by Naoaki’s seemingly reassuring words… 

Which unsurprisingly leads him to misinterpret his intentions to be nothing more than a mockery of his unwanted predicament. And could anyone blame him? He went into this situation already holding preconceived notions about their intentions.

Eiichi was secretly glad that only two of them were able to assist, for it meant that his adorable daughters were out of danger from any unwanted prospects (delusions of a worrisome father), one less burden to carry… at least partially.

Oh, but Naoaki was on another level of concern, far from the realm of his daughters, and onto one of the horrors fellow parents have warned him about: his teens!

Naoaki… well, from a distance, he’s a kid that Eiichi has been able to observe as somewhat calm, even helpful when it comes to supporting his mother… but then, he remembers the quarrels he often has with his brothers, and this overruled whatever was previously stated.

More so because his oldest son is already 10 years old! Meaning that he could start looking up to Naoaki for inspiration!! And if that happened… Oh no… he wouldn’t like for Ren to start having issues with his sisters! Not when they got along so well with one another!! It would literally break his heart to see his family breaking apart…

With that in mind, could anyone blame him for not liking Naoaki either? (Does Eiichi like any of the Zen’in kids?)

Oh, but at this moment in time, all that he can do is hope that his dear Ren is strong enough to look away from the enticing defiance that comes with their teens… and stay on the path of righteousness he and his wife have set before him.

And with nothing else to worry about, and no pending farewells to carry out, Eiich gets into the car and leaves.

With his car out of sight, and the chauffeur retiring for the night, the mother’s are able to move on with their itinerary… but not without doing proper introductions between the groups, 3 of which have already started to attack each other with silly faces to kill time and show their disdain for one another, discreetly enough to avoid getting the attention of the adults, but still holding the same damaging intent.

“Good evening everyone!” Tomoko says, completely unaware of the battle going on between one of her kids and your siblings, for her voice served as a warning for them to put on their best demeanor—an act  that still doesn’t stop Naoya from silently cursing them.

Her beautiful golden eyes—the same ones as Naoya’s and Naoaki’s— proceed to scan each and every face before her, admiring their cute chubby cheeks to the point where she wants to go ahead and pinch them, but stops herself as to not make them uncomfortable, besides, she already has an lovable 7 year old to dote on, so she isn’t sacrificing much.

So instead, she moves on to admire similarities to their parents, to which Minako is king.

“Aren’t you all adorable? It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you, you’re all so grown up…” she notes, moving closer to the children.

“Thank you, Tomoko-san! It’s nice to see you again, I’ve actually grown 3 inches since we last saw each other!” Hinata boasts, standing up proudly as to show off her height.

“I think I’ve remained the same, officer” Tomoko chuckles, a playful jab to Hinata’s costume “I definitely feel safer with you around”

“At your service” She bows. Naoaki holds back a stifled chuckle, amused by your sister's commitment to her role.

Fortunately, his gesture remains overtly neglected in preference to Naoya's eye-rolling response, which she managed to catch just at the last second through the corner of her eye. It’s only when Tomoko moves onto Ren that your sister retaliates by sticking her tongue out, much to Naoya’s offense.

“Now, you’re definitely taller than what I remember” She says, placing her hand above his head and shuffling his hair. Ren remains quiet. “And you’re… a skeleton, right? It’s pretty cool… and surprisingly accurate! Your makeup is amazing as well!”

“Thank you, Tomoko-san.” he nods, feeling appreciative of her compliment of his handiwork in the makeup department “And yes, I’m a skeleton that glows in the dark, but you can’t see it right now because of the light” 

“No way!” She gasps, inching closer to admire the fluorescent paint “And you had all this custom made, Minako-chan?!”

“I told you, the seamstress I found is impressive” she grins proudly “Maybe we can get something fitted for ourselves in the future”

“I’ll hold you to that!”

Naoaki can’t help but cringe at his mother’s implication of wanting to participate in Halloween—was she really considering dressing up? Wasn’t that like… a kids thing? Oh, but knowing her… she just might.

Anyways, wanting to maintain his sanity, he doesn’t pry any further.

And finally, it’s Tomoko’s time to move on to you.

“And you, little Y/N. You’re growing too fast!” she exclaims “You were like what… 4 years old when I last saw you? Stop growing already!”

You don’t respond outside of a whine when Tomoko decides to finally indulge in her desire and pinch your cheeks.

“Now, what are you dressed up as?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as she fails to recognize the pair of red eyes and shining white grin printed on the hood of your onesie.

“Gengar!” you exclaim, but Tomoko remains clueless as ever, causing you to frown and press your lips together in disappointment. 

She’d be the nth person that night that doesn’t get what you’re dressing up as… but not to her oldest son, who steps in prompted by familiarity.

“Oh, from Pokemon, right?” Naoaki observes, and the disappointment you were reeling in flies out the window when you realize there’s actually someone out there who finally understands what you’re dressed up as!

“Yes!” you say with the biggest grin your lips permits you to do, a picture worthy smile that makes Minako regret not having her camera out and ready “You like pokemon too??”

“A little” he responds “Cool costume by the way, all of you really”

Hinata and Ren silently thank him for his unforeseen compliment, wanting to limit their interaction with him as much as possible due to his relation to Naoya, contrasting your decision of sticking to his side for the rest of the night to partake in more conversations of your favorite videogame.

“I don’t know who Gengar is, but you sure look scary!” Tomoko says, giving one last pinch to your cheeks before walking back to her children’s side “Good work, everyone. You all have really good costumes, and I’m sure you’ll get lots of candy!”

“I’m sure your boys will get lots of candy too, more so if we tell them that it’s Naoya’s first trick-or-treating as well” Minako recalls and Tomoko gasps.

“Oh, right! It’s Y/N’s first trick-or-treating as well!” Tomoko excitedly responds “And in that note… I don’t think either of you have met yet”

It’s time for Hinata and Ren to object… at least in their minds.

They want to step in and clarify that their introduction won’t be necessary for Y/N is never to meet him again, but knowing they held no power over your mother’s decisions, they resentfully limit themselves to stand on the sidelines as they observed their mother guiding you by the hand towards their mortal enemy, the youngest of the Zen’in brothers.

You, on the other side… well, haven’t really given any attention to either of the boys in front of you, outside of Naoaki of course, who you’ve solely become interested in thanks to his apparent knowledge in Pokemon—since both your siblings had other interests, and Satoru, your other friend, was fan of another franchise. A bit too fond perhaps, to the point he’d criticize your preference whenever he could, pushing you to avoid the subject with him all together.

Either way, Naoya had remained under the radar for you, meaning that you were more than fine with greeting him, even open to establishing a friendship, contrary to your fuming siblings who wanted nothing more than to keep him away from you.

But in Naoya’s eyes… you were far from under the radar.

In fact, you two have yet to meet (formally at least, since the first time they met you were nothing more than a toddler, and him being a year older didn’t mean much) but he already knows that he’s going to dislike you.

He hated the reality of becoming acquainted with another L/N kid who was only going to torment him, an assumption he founded due to his broken relation with the insufferable Hinata and mundane Ren.

It wasn’t always like that, of course, they actually got quite well at the beginning.

But when he started to feel comfortable with them, that’s when things got complicated: out of nowhere, Naoya started to show off by belittling them for having better toys than them, nicer shoes, sharper pencils, or even a cooler face. Whatever that might be…

From there, it was a constant battle between the three of who’s better—a fight that Naoya believed to be winning, had he not forgotten that he was going against 2 children, meaning that Ren and Hinata could simply pluck him out of their social circle and keep having fun.

An unexpected change that had him suddenly feeling ignored, much to his surprise, something that he already endured in a household of 6 children, and wasn’t to accept so easily, so he retaliated even harder.

Well, it’s not his fault that your family is too poor to give them the latest toy on the store shelves, or that they have to earn things instead of just asking for them. In his eyes, it was obvious that your siblings were calling him nasty nicknames because they were jealous of him and his status.

And he expects you to be the same.

Thus, when you approach him in a seemingly shy manner, he can’t help but remain unaffected towards you. 

He believes your reaction to be nothing more than an act to appease the adults around them, to fool them with your innocent demeanor and get them to lower their guards, so that when they turn around you’d begin to insult him, just like how Hinata and Ren did as soon as he got out of the car, they even went as far as to mouth how ugly his costume was as soon as they laid eyes on him! 

So what’s taking you so long to do the same?!

He continues to stare at you, hoping to pry the answer out of your face. 

Even when you finally glance up to see him, with those big round mesmerizing stupid eyes of yours, he doesn’t relent in attempting to be intimidating.

The silence between the two kids urges one of the mothers to step in and rush introductions.

“Say hi, Naoya” Tomoko says, nudging her kid closer to you before hissing “don’t be rude”

Naoya frowns.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Naoya Zen’in” He bows, enunciating his last name in a particular way as if to show off the prestige that his family carries.

He briefly glances over to your sister and brother upon seeing the disgust on their faces, which only serves to irk him even further, leading you to be the victim of his reprieve.

Oblivious of the fight between him and your siblings, you blink, remaining silent as you analyze his costume from head to toe. There’s something familiar about his costume but you can’t put your finger on it quite yet… so you just continue to stare at him, unknowingly rubbing Naoya the wrong way.

With your hood partially covering your face, he’s wide open for you to give him one of those typical nasty scowls from Hinata, or uninterested pouts from Ren. So, why are you taking so long?! Finding a way to insult him differently from your siblings maybe?! 

And he’s not the only one to notice your silence, prompting Minako to give you a gentle nudge to speak up, but just as she’s leaning closer to you, something finally dawns on you to talk, giving Naoya an unexpected answer, doubling down with your wide grin and chirping words.

“Wow!! Cool costume!!”

And the world seemed to stop, or that’s how Naoya felt when this happened.

To say that he fumbled his subsequent actions would be an understatement. 

He was straight up speechless when you finally granted him a response—and not any response, a compliment—one outside of his carefully procured script of nasty remarks, leaving him to drench in the feeling he could only describe as the main villain from an anime revealing to the protagonist that he’s only been using a small percentage of his power!—with you being the villain and he the protagonist, of course.

“That’s not your name, Y/N” Minako giggles and you blush out of embarrassment.

“Oh—yeah. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you!” you add nonchalantly before turning back to your mom “Mama, can we get candy now?!” you jump excitedly, a sight that only adds to your unexpected intentions, which Naoya cannot find himself to accept so easily.

He tries to find any deceit behind your words, behind your actions, a follow up to the deceitful play you were putting before the adults to lower their guards.

But by the way you’re so…. Unaware of him, focused entirely on something else, he fails to do so.

But—but how could this be?! You’re related to that arrogant Hinata and gullible Ren, how could you be so different to them if you have the same blood?!

…

…

…

Oh.

Oh.

Like clouds dispersing after a rainy day, he suddenly understands why.

It’s because they’re so insufferable that you’re so different from them! 

There’s no way someone who genuinely appreciated his attire would actually get along with your ignorant siblings. 

Yes, that had to be it. It was only a matter of time before someone from their own family noted how aggravating they were, which means that you and Naoya are more similar than he initially perceived.

This was your way of seeking help, wasn’t it? That’s why you approached him! You resonated with him, ever before getting to know each other. Different from your siblings, you managed to avoid their brainwashing because you just knew he wasn’t as bad as they might’ve hinted!

It’s like that manga… the one that said that powerful users are naturally drawn to each other…? Or however it went. All that Naoya knew was that this was a fated reunion, meant to happen tonight of all nights!! Now that he thinks about it… there was something that was pushing him to go with his mom, and oh, how glad he was to have come!

It doesn’t take much longer for him to declare that he wants to stick by your side for the rest of the night with the intentions of getting to know more of your mysterious nature, completely ignoring any other possibilities, more so the one that had you reacting that way simply because you eventually recognized his costume from one of the shows you watched alongside Ren on Saturday mornings before breakfast, what was it called… Super Sentai?

Naoya was dressed up as the black one, the one that was often considered cooler amongst viewers, just behind the red one. He even had the helmet! And it wasn’t just any kind of costume that a parent might find at a retail store, the amount of detail dictated that it must’ve been a replica of the original. 

Certainly, his commitment (as well as his parent’s willingness to spend that much money on a one-day attire) to the show was to be appreciated.

And that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. 

A compliment brought from genuine fondness, as well as recognition, for the show and what it represented for your brother and you.

But how would 7 year old Naoya come to understand this? Not even Minako’s compliments of her own were enough to make him realize that it was just… that, a compliment. 

Or when you repeated the same phrase onto Naoaki, who kindly informed you that he wasn’t dressed up, he was simply wearing a civilian attire—an black and white tartan shirt, underneath an oversized varsity jacket, and some denim pants to go alongside his white sneakers—much to Minako’s disappointed, who still remembered that curious boy who dressed up as a mummy many, many years ago…

No, not even that would help. 

He’d remain as oblivious as ever as the world went on without him, leaving him behind to be stuck in his mind the echoing sound of your appreciation, believing it to be something else than what it really was.

Maybe after the kids—who started to replicate your sentiment to pressure them forward—were sated, would Naoya come to this conclusion on his own. One could only hope.

“Oh, before we start, let’s take a picture!” Minako suggests, quickly taking out her camera and gesturing to the group to come together so as to fit into the frame “The youngest on the front, please!”

Naoya is quick to glance over to you, the perfect opportunity to stand by your side is enough to fill him with motivation, but just as he was to scurry to your side, your sister is faster, bumping into him and completely blocking you away from him.

Had she been any harsher, she would’ve sent him stumbling down, labeled an accident from an eager sister who wants to be with her youngest sibling.

But Hinata was too cautious to do anything by accident, as evidenced by the devilish grin appearing on her lips as she looked back at Naoya.

“Better luck next time, chump”

Naoya, offended beyond belief, resentfully accepts defeat as he stands besides Hinata instead. He wanted to go over to your other side, but your brother was there instead.

It seems that your siblings had caught wind of Naoya’s new intentions as soon as they became clear in his eyes, and wanting to keep his grubby hands away from you as long as possible, have also set a new mission for them to perform through the rest of the night.

The youngest of the Zen’in children eventually focuses to the front and onto the camera lens, with the straightest, most serious face Tomoko has ever seen that causes her to gesture at him to smile by doing so herself.

He tries his hardest to obey by pulling the edges of his lips up, but his defeat only allows him to give a side smirk—opting to place all his efforts on plotting his revenge instead.

“1… 2… Cheese!” Minako declared, and within seconds, the camera flash beams onto the party.

She has yet to reveal the picture, but she knows that it’ll be one that she’ll look back with fondness, even though Eiichi will probably be more than not upset with her for going against their agreement, but she really couldn’t care! She’s just happy to see her friend again and to be spending time with her family as well as her’s. A fun, exciting night, just as the parents always intended it to be—he had nothing to worry.

Completely ignorant to the fact that Eiichi’s fear of one of the Zen’in kids catching interest on one of their daughters is slowly becoming a reality.

Up to that point, Halloween had been the greatest night of your life—and that wasn’t an exaggeration.

Let’s start by breaking down why.

First, and perhaps the most obvious reason why, the candy. 

Although a bit apprehensive in the very beginning when realizing you actually needed to go up to different doors and request the candy, which only made your timidity skyrocket to the heavens, soon became an inconsequential obstacle once you saw the sweets deposited on your basket.

From there, it was all smooth sailing, to the point you became comfortable enough to be the one to sing the customary trick-or-treat chant— the magical words that summoned the candy guardians to the front gates of their impressively decorated fortress and granting your party a hefty amount of their treasure— which up to that point, had been Naoya’s responsibility, but solely because he wanted to impress you with his “confidence and maturity”, not because he wanted to do so.

The second reason was your company. Naoaki, to be precise. Sure, you enjoyed being with your siblings, even meeting a new friend! But while this could be considered a separate occurrence from Halloween itself, in your mind it made no difference. 

The teenager unwillingly tagged along thanks to his mother's insistence. He attempted to skip this all together by reminding her that he was too old to indulge in these activities and that he also didn’t even bring a costume, so what was the point? 

But Tomoko, having raised 6 rowdy boys, wasn't one to be swayed so easily, so she firmly put her foot down and demanded him to have fun by shoving an extra basket onto his chest.

So, he’s here, much to your conversational delight, and Naoya’s jealous demise.

To your delight, because it meant you could spend more time talking to him about Pokemon! 

Or more like interrogating, for he was the only other person you knew that liked the same thing as you did, and he was much older, so it meant that he must’ve done much more, right? No one in their right mind would pass an opportunity like this!

It gave you the perfect justification to gravitate more towards him, bombarding him with thousands of questions regarding his favorite pokemon, his favorite moment on the T.V. show, or if he’d managed to get one of those evolutions that can only happen via trade.

“I haven’t” you confess “Because I have no one else to play with”

Naoaki didn’t know whether to feel bad for you, or chuckle for how blunt you were being. Well, guilt ended up overwhelming him at the end, prompting him to engage deeper into conversation with you—as well as forcing Naoya to make a mental note to demand his father to buy him a gameboy as soon as he came back home.

This is where Naoya’s demise would step into the picture. 

While you were overtly happy for being able to go out, get candy and meet someone who liked your favorite videogame, Naoya was suffering a hell of his own.

One that pushed him to see your interaction with his brother as some kind of competition: to steal your attention from his idiot older brother, who was completely oblivious of Naoya’s internal conflict, and get it all for himself!

He’s already on a losing streak against Hinata and Ren, so he’s not about to go and lose to his brother as well, the one who had only played pokemon once in his life and immediately dropped it after he got past Misty because it was “too repetitive”!!

He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and yet, you can’t keep away from him! Can’t you see he’s lying through his teeth?!

… And your siblings don’t make it any better.

Naoya might’ve hinted at having bigger tolerance towards them—perhaps because he sees them way less compared to his family, but in reality, they were just as detestable as Naoaki. 

It all started from Hinata and Ren being unhappy at the adults for placing you as Naoya’s partner for the night, the youngest paired together, they justified when confronted by your sister, only for tonight.

An explanation that went over their heads and propelled them to follow on their insurgent mission.

The first to act was Hinata, by cutting off Naoya each time they were done with a house.

You had the tendency of running to your mom to show off what you’ve gotten. Nothing alarming on it’s on, that is, until your sister caught sight of Naoya trailing you like a shadow.

This is where Hinata would step in, imposing herself between your path and his, with a smug smirk on her face that only served to taunt him, forcing the young Zen’in heir to glance over her side, trembling with desperation as he acknowledged her.

“Move, ugly!” Naoya commands, tightening his knuckles while knitting his brows.

“Make me” she dared, and Naoya groaned. It’s surprising how nasty kids can get when determined.

Ren, on the other hand, would pull you by the hand to his and Hinata’s side whenever it was time to move onto the next house. 

His towering height covered you from the mother’s sight to the point that neither suspected you’d gone out of formation. Actions that lead for this endeavor to be successful for the first couple of houses, that is, until Minako eventually noticed Naoya alongside his solitude.

“Ren, let Y/N walk with Naoya-kun” Ren held back a grunt as he freed you from his grasp.

It’s from that point forward that Naoya decided that your mother was to be a trusted ally he could use for future plans. But as much as she’d proved herself to be a powerful piece in this conflict, her actions only granted him a temporary advantage, he had yet to win the war.

In fact, he’s yet to do so much more, for he also realized that he’s barely managed to get in a word with you—and that’s without counting the insistent actions of your siblings and his own brother.

And he doesn’t know why. He’s never struggled before. In fact, he rarely struggles in anything—his family has said so, he’s some kind of genius! 

Well, maybe with his cousin Toji, who he considered the epitome of coolness, has he stammered with his own words. But even then, he’d only done so once or twice. Toji-kun was out of everyone’s league, so it was natural many would be intimidated in his presence. Even his stupid older brother knows not to mess with him!

«Would he approve of you?» Naoya briefly wonders as he glances back at you.

You weren’t like any other of the girls he’d spoken with, or attempted to, before, that’s for sure. 

There’s something about you that constricts his throat to the point where he can only whisper and stare at you, who in turn, greet him back with a cheerful hello whenever grazes cross, only worsening his already strained condition.

Was it because you liked things different from what other girls did? You don’t strike him as the kind of kid that would bother with girly stuff, not when you recognized his Super Sentai costume and you were dressed up as a videogame character. 

You’re already way above them—his equal. Eeh, well, maybe not that far. He still thinks of himself as above everyone else, but you’re up there, just a step below him, but very close to him.

Either way, none of his previous disadvantages managed to discourage him from stopping from doing what he needed to do. 

So when Tomoko and Minako announced it was time for a short break, he knew this would be his moment to seize!

The mothers guided them through a dimly lit path and onto a nearby park which they’d previously agreed on to use to rest in, take a breather, check everyone was ok, get something to drink and/or eat, before continuing.

It’s at this moment that Tomoko would reveal why she was late in the first place: she had to pick up the bottles of water and snacks she’d promised Minako she would bring (as sign of gratitude for preparing all of this for their children) for them to consume if any got thirsty or hungry—it was tempting to just reach into their respective baskets and eat the candy they collected, but until they were safely searched through and cleared of any unwanted objects, none of the kids were permitted to eat them. 

Besides, sprinkling a bit of fruits and vegetables here and there could do no wrong if they were already going to indulge in sugar.

“Is anyone hungry? Thirsty?” Tomoko asks, unzipping her backpack and taking out various small bottles of water which she placed on the nearby table. “Or does anyone want to go to the restroom instead?” 

“I’ll take one” Naoaki says and his mother hands him the one in her grasp ‘Thanks”

Minako moves closer to her friend, intending to grab one for herself and her children, when suddenly, a current of cold air lands on his back, traveling through every centimeter of her spine, resulting in a shiver that has her freezing on the spot.

“Ugh, that was… awful” Minako complains through gritted teeth while rubbing her hands against her arms. Her desperation to warm up takes her to look back to the nearby coffee shop she’d eyed moments earlier, her face brightening up when a new suggestion crosses her mind “I know, do you guys want to get something warm?” 

“No, thank you” you shake your head, still buried in the warm layers your mother and father buried you underneath. Hinata and Ren mirror your answer with a nod of their own. Naoaki gestures as his bottle before politely rejecting her offer, and Naoya keeps quiet.

“What about you, Tomoko?” Minako now looks at her, who is currently opening a bottle of water and handing it over to Naoya.

“I think I’ll have a coffee” She responds “I’m already getting a bit sleepy and we still have the rest of the night to go through”

“Rough night, hm?” Minako jests and Tomoko blushes.

“Stop it, I’m just worried for Naofumi, that’s all”

“He’ll get back on his feet before you know it, don’t worry. Worry instead about how you want your coffee so I can go get it”

“Oh, there’s no way I’m going to let you pay for it!” Tomoko yelps, hand reaching inside her backpack and taking out her wallet “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it”

“Haha, that’s funny” Minako teased, jolting away from Tomoko’s hand, which she frequently presented to offer her card “But no, stay here with the kids, I’ll pay it”

“Minako” Tomoko warns.

“Tomoko” the other replicates.

“I swear if you don’t—”

“Mom, L/N-san, why don’t you both go? I mean, I have no issue looking after the kids for a while” Naoaki interrupts, hoping that his serene solution will bring peace to the bickering he was never fond of. 

“Are you sure, Naoaki-kun?” Minako asks with hesitation, for she doesn’t want to dump him with 4 children as much as she finds accompanying Tomoko very endearing. “I don’t want to overwhelm you”

“Don’t worry about it, I have 5 siblings, there’s nothing they can do to scare me” 

«We’ll see about that» Naoya thinks as he crumples his now empty bottle of water.

“Besides, mom hasn’t seen you in a while” Naoaki sheepishly adds, scratching the back of his head “and I… like seeing her happy”

Tomoko’s lips part into a heart warming smile at her son’s gentleness. Always the attentive one, she’s proud to have raised a good natured kid like him.

So, after the women and Naoaki go through all the things they’ve brought in case of an emergency—which they doubt will happen, since they’re only going a few yards away, but a mother can never be too sure!—and asking for a second time if any of them want something (to which they reject once more) they depart.

Tomoko was still somewhat hesitant of leaving them behind, worried that someone might attempt to do something against’ them, a natural concern to have in a village she’s yet to become acquainted with, but Minako squashes her burdens by reassuring her there was nothing to worry about, for she’d chosen this neighborhood specifically for how safe and calm it was known to be.

“Maybe we should worry about our kids disobeying Naoaki” the two joked instead as they kept walking towards the store.

And once out of sight, Naoaki makes haste to turn around and start tending the group.

“So… how’s the night treating all of you?” he asks awkwardly, unsure how to start to distract them.  “Do you want something to eat? Drink…?”

Sure, he’s had plenty of experience dealing with children… who coincidentally were his siblings… 

He doesn’t presume he can treat Minako’s children the same as he’d done with his siblings, but … well, it must count for some kind of experience, right? And he did make a promise he intended to keep.

However, it's safe to say that he’s never been this intimidated before. Certainly not by a child whos unimpressed face made him question why he even agreed to this: Hinata being the subject in question

It’s almost as if she’s sensing his fear by the way she’s intently staring at him with a piercing gaze that tells him he’s performing a terrible job and that he should let a professional handle this, like her, unless he wants to make a fool out of himself.

So, after a few seconds of intense critiquing and intimidation, Hinata steps in.

“Alright, baskets on the table” Hinata asserts, acting as the first example before starting to dig through her mountain of sweets “This is our moment to switch candies if there’s something we don’t like before our mother’s come back, so we have to be quick about”

Taking this as an opportunity to finally socialize with you, Naoya makes haste to move onto your side, but just as he’s stepping closer to you, Ren abruptly cuts him off, again, by placing his own basket on the spot next to yours.

The young Zen’in shoots him a dangerous glare, but the oldest of the L/N family pays him no mind as he digs through his own candy, as if this had been nothing more than an innocent coincidence, which makes Naoya scoff as he now moves onto his side.

“Someone gave me a sweet potato” Ren confides, pulling the culprit out of his basket and placing it on the middle of the table, subsequently causing all of the group to quizzically stare at it.

“Hahaha, what the hell??” Naoaki is the first to react to the bizarre sight. It’s so comical, he can’t believe someone actually gave kids a goddamn vegetable instead of candy! “That’s worse than raisins—might as well given you nothing”

Unfortunately none of the kids respond to his comment, and the silence between the group and him only pushes him deeper into the ocean solitude he’d been drowning in since he was left in charge of them.

Well, it’s expected. The only one of the group that seemed to like him was you and that was solely for your shared interest in pokemon, which if he had to be completely honest… he didn’t like that much. But he wasn’t to go and break your heart like that. So he’d just remain quiet and let you enjoy your sweets.

“Anyways” Ren circles back everyone's attention to him “You seem to have gotten a lot of the candies you wanted, Hinata”

“Yesssss” She cheered, grabbing a handful of the lemon candies beginning to envision herself torturing Satoru “But I also got a lot of these” She says, now referring to the different colored bunches of hi-chew’s she placed alongside her weapon “Didn’t you like them, Y/N-chan?”

“Nope” you shake your head, hand still stuck in your basket as you search for a candy wrapper that caught your attention just moments ago “I like chocolate more, and mochi too!” you inform, finally pulling out the candy you were looking for with a grin… only to realize it wasn’t what you believed. “But I didn’t get any mochi at all” 

Maybe mochi isn’t traditionally given during these seasons?

And like clockwork, a Naoya that has been desperate for an opportunity to portray himself a charming prince of sorts and charm you with his generosity, takes this moment to finally, once and for all!! To step in and get the spotlight on him.

“What kind of chocolate do you like, Y/N?” Naoya asks confidently (or so he believes his voice to have sounded), looking straight at you. You blink, diving into deep thought as you pouted, debating which out of all the chocolates you tasted were the best. There’s too many that you like, but if there’s one that you like the most, it would have to be—

“Well! If there’s something you don’t like, you can give them to me” Hinata yelps, pulling out a bag of the colorful candy and placing it in the middle, just beside Ren’s tragic sweet potato. “I trade you these hello kitty strawberry marshmallows for those lemon candies”

Naoya groans at another interrupted attempt, loud enough for Naoaki to glance at him and ask him if there was anything wrong, to which the youngest simply scoffed as a response. 

And you, too focused on the exchange before you, didn’t notice anything at all.

“Deal!” You grin. They might not be chocolate, but they’re still pretty good, so you don’t hesitate to switch them from the middle of the table with help of your older brother, and place them into your basket.

The conversation between your siblings seems to go on for a while, from exchanging sweets to rumors of the streets that are hinted to give bigger and better candies. Undeniably, the people that were often considered to be on the rich side of socioeconomic standards, and subsequently, able to afford the good brands.

All this pushes Naoya further and further away from you whenever he tries to chime in, that at one point, he just stops trying.

“Maybe we can convince mom to go there, get a king sized kit kat bar!” Hinata hypes, gently nudging you by the shoulder. A revelation that Naoya takes note to remember well, for if it wasn’t of any relevance, why bring it up? “It’s like the size of 3 bars! Can you imagine that, Y/N-chan??”

…

…

…

Silence.

“Y/N?” Hinata tries again, and once more, you don’t respond to her enthusiasm, at least not the way she expects. Instead, she’s received by a pout and a frown on your chubby face, portraying distress.

“Are… you ok?” She cautioned. Words that are quick to set off  alarms in everyone’s mind.

You lean into Hinata’s ear to whisper.

“Where is mama?”

“She’s still at the coffee shop” Naoaki, who had kept an attentive ear after this upsetting question, finds it appropriate to step in and responds in her stead. “I don’t think she’ll take longer though, is there something you need?”

“No…” you look away, cheeks burning out of embarrassment for having him respond to the question you intended only to be heard by your sister. A gesture that Naoya takes unkindly, for his mind believes Naoaki did so with the intention to shame you, and after all you gave him…

This might’ve just been his desperation trying to fill the blanks though, for he’s the only one that thinks that. 

Ren and Hinata are on the same page as Naoaki when it comes to worrying for you. They fear that you’re too embarrassed to tell them what you need in the presence of strangers, leaving them stranded in a position of uselessness—something that the teenager was not going to let happen.

“It’s ok, you can tell me” Naoaki reassures you, and it’s only after you see his genuine concern as well as your siblings' comfort, that you finally confess.

“I need to go to the restroom”

“Oh” Naoaki blinks, taken aback by this unexpected revelation. “Uh… I—”

“Why didn’t you tell mom you wanted to go before??” Hinata huffs.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Hinata” Ren disputed.

“Because I didn’t want to go!” your whine back “Where is mama??”

“She’s not going to be here for a while…” Hinata mutters as the frustration to solve this matter plunges her into urgency. Sure, you knew how to handle these types of situations on your own, and when you needed help, mom was always there to step how.

However, she wasn’t there, and to make matters worse, all of them were in a relatively unknown public location, details that only made you feel more uneasy.

But after considering all of this, there’s no way Hinata was going to let you overcome this on your own, or wait for someone else to do so instead… If your older sister allowed it, she would not be living up to the role of the one she’s dressed up as. Or her role in the family!

“I’ll take you” she asserts, glancing over to Ren for approval, which he grants with a nod.

And after getting all the help she needed, retrieving the paper and soap Tomoko had brought along to use just in case, granted by Naoaki, Hinata intertwines her fingers with yours and begins to head over towards the building she guesses to be the nearest public restroom. 

Naoaki offered to take them as close as possible, but your sister, not wanting you to feel any more embarrassed than you already were, asked him to keep a lookout from the table and inform their mom of their location if she was to return first.

The oldest Zen’in never imagined someone so authoritarian could exist in the small body of an 8 year old, but here he was, dumbfounded once more by reality. 

But that observation falls to irrelevancy when it comes to keeping a close eye on the walking girls.

As much as unexpected your little trip to the bathroom had appeared to be, it didn’t really affect much of your enjoyment of Halloween. Sure, it's somewhat inconvenient, more so because you didn’t have your mom by your side in a strange place like this, but you had your courageous sister, and your brave brother looking out for you, instead. 

So you know that once this is dealt with you’ll be on your way to more fun, and more candy too.

Unfortunately, your trip to the restroom was not destined to be as smooth as both would’ve wanted.

Because just as Halloween is a special occasion for children to go out and have fun, there was also another demographic group that intended to do the same. The kind of people that often went above the limits to get a good laugh for themselves through the expense of others.

But that was something that you didn’t register, less when you were having a good time yourself with your family and new friends, which eased you deeper into lowering your guard as you’d continued to walk besides her, hand in hand, towards the nearest public restroom.

In your mind, There was nothing to worry about, nothing to observe, nothing to beware..

Not even the rustling bushes or the reticent whispers coming from the shadows behind it swayed you otherwise. 

A compromise that you were not aware that you needed to take, but would regret ignoring when the concealed figures established their outrageous appearance as soon as you and your sister were within grasp.

“AAAAH!!”

It all happened in a blur, too fast to recount with detail. Where the girls once enjoyed their peaceful yet essential stroll, now stood petrified at the ghastly presence of the different horror figures appearing just from the darkness and out of the bushes:

A pale ambiguous creature with long dark hair and bloodied lips, a red skinned demon with black horns and long fangs ending just beneath it’s chin, and lastly but not least, another pale skinned woman with a gory smile that stretched from ear-to-ear—arms stretched to the sky to enlarge their presence onto their victims whilst releasing a deafening growl that pushed the girls to wail even more.

It’s only then that the teenage perpetrators realized the immeasurable mistake they committed.

“Oh no, nononononono” One of them would lament, quickly retracting their arms back to their side as they frantically look to one another “This wasn’t supposed to happen! We weren’t supposed to scare them!”

But it was too late, for both your sister’s and your cheeks were drenched in tears, evident by the light reflecting against their skin.

“Why didn’t you say something?!” The horned devil snapped back, giving the one in charge of lookouts a sharp smack on the arm “I thought you said it was safe!”

“I—I thought” the wide-smile woman, popularly known as kuchisake-onna, stammered. “I thought I heard footsteps! Like adult footsteps, you know?! How would I know they would be different?!”

“You idiot!!” The first one chastises one last time before glancing back at the sobbing young girls who were now hugging each other as tightly as they could, and softening their voice “H—Hey, kiddo, I’m—I’m sorry we didn’t—”

“Get away from her!” Hinata interrupts with a shrill as she jumps between you and the regretful group, who have now removed their masks to increase the veracity of their apology, show they were just another bunch of stupid teenagers doing a stupid innocent prank, revealing their identities to be of two men and one woman—but it was all for naught for Hinata was never interested in their intentions, she just wanted to protect you, even if she was scared beyond belief herself.

Hoping to appeal to their sorority, the female wrongdoer moves closer to the girls, but the intimidating gaze of a protective older sister squashes their intention before it can even come to full fruition.

Or so that’s what Hinata believes—a wave of confidence engulfing her spirit as she moves you further behind her back and away from their danger, utterly oblivious to the real reason behind their cowering figures, an angered teenager briskly closing the distance between the two.

“You need to leave, now” The infuriated male demanded. Hinata turns to face the voice behind her, and soon realizes who was the one that intimidated them all along: Naoaki, holding the most angered face she’d ever seen a man carry before, accompanied with a  resentful Ren and a slightly startled Naoya. 

The group had seen everything from afar with utter disbelief at the audacity of these unruly teenagers for doing such a prank on young children. Had they really been that insensitive?!

But where the kids remained somewhat uneasy to voice their disapproval, Naoaki did not hesitate to bring out his confrontational nature.

“We didn’t know, we didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not fond of repeating myself twice. Less to people as shameless as you” Naoaki raged “Leave, now!”

The teenagers need no other reminder to understand their presence to be unwanted, hence they expeditiously begin to gather their belongings: objects that ranged from toilet paper, cans of string foam, and even eggs, presenting unbelievably sight to Naoaki which only deepened his exasperation for them before ultimately leaving.

He keeps a hardened gaze on their backs, as if to prevent them from doing another stupidity, and once he considers them no longer a hazard, he flickers his attention back to the sniffing children.

The sight is enough to squeeze his heart with guilt, gaze softening as he kneels down to their level.

Hinata, although she still cried, had actually started to calm down once realizing the monsters that scared them were nothing more than idiots inside costumes, whose possibilities of returning now that Naoaki confronted them were slim to none, giving her a sense of confidence that allowed her beating heart to begin slowing down.

This gives her time to reflect on what happened, and she can’t stop herself from feeling so naive for having fallen for something so silly, something that Satoru had done in previous occasions… but before she could go on resenting her lack of action, she settled for worrying over your unresolved emotions.

You unfortunately continued to be affected by this whole incident. As the youngest of the group, you still have yet to earn enough discernment to understand that this was nothing more than a prank, a seemingly victimless act… but even if it was nothing more than a joke, it felt real to you, enough to keep you wailing, heart painfully beating against your chest as you attempted to wrap your head around this whole incident, but failing to do so.

So, the only thing you could do was rub your tears away with the fabric of your sleeves as you wailed for your mother, a sight that caused your companions to murmur soothing words of encouragement in hope to make up for her absence and calm you down, at least until she’s back.

"It's ok, Y/N-chan. They're gone now" Hinata would attempt to comfort you by taking you into her arms and pushing you close to her before patting your back. Ren joined his sisters by wrapping his arms around them.

“You don’t have to cry anymore” Naoaki joined, but you’re barely able to respond with anything else outside a whimper or a sniff, muffled by your sister’s chest.

There are no words to describe just how frustrated he feels for allowing this to happen, and subsequently, failing to provide you a remedy. 

In fact, he feels regretful for permitting the teenagers to leave, but there really wasn’t much he could’ve done at that point that wasn’t to shout reprimands at them, which half of them would’ve been obscenities. 

Very tempting indeed, but that would just be to alleviate his frustration, no help to you or your sister.

His mind progresses to other realms of solutions, going through countless alternatives until he reaches one one that makes his eyes widen with fulfillment and determination, as well as hope for it to work.

Naoaki jumps back on his feet and rushes back to the table where their things have remained behind, intending to reach for his basket, earnestly digging through the candy whilst isolating a particular confection.

Once done, he makes way back to the group, but not without bringing your basket as well as his carefully selected lineup.

“These are your favorite, right?” he asks, kneeling down to your level once more and extending his hands for you to see what he’s referring to.

You slowly raise your gaze from your sister’s hug and over to Naoaki’s hands, blurry eyes widening in surprise once he begins to pour the countless chocolates onto your basket.

“You can have them all, Y/N. Just don’t cry anymore, ok?” Naoaki smiles softly, proceeding to pet your head  “Your sister and brother are very worried for you, Naoya and me as well”

You first glance over to Hinata and her concerned puffy face with glossy, reddened eyes, the visible aftermath of the panic she was put through alongside you.

You then look at Ren, who although managed to avoid being directly affected by this incident, was just as distressed as Hinata, evident by his creased forehead and the frown on his lips—further proving the truth behind Naoaki’s words.

Naoaki is giving you a warm smile, as if to assure you that everything is truly indeed, even if you felt your heart telling you the opposite. He even went as far to attempt to comfort you by giving you all of his chocolates…

And Naoya… even if he barely speaks to you, to see him so concerned for you, you can’t help but feel thankful. As well as guilty, for you don’t think he wanted to see anyone crying tonight.

Overwhelmed by the much needed presence of your mother, as well as your companions unshakable support, you can't help but break into tears once more.

"Y/N!" Minako’s unexpected voice snaps you out of trance, causing you to swirl your head over to her direction and squint your warm eyes to make out the appearance of the approaching figure. 

Once recognizing your mother, you immediately peel away from your sister’s and brother’s arms and run towards her, arms stretched to allow yourself to be pulled up by her as you break out in tears once more.

“It’s ok, little one, it’s ok. I’m here now” she croones, kissing the top of your head as you push your face deeper into her neck, inevitably wetting her skin, but it doesn’t bother her at all. 

She then moves closer to Hinata, pulling her closer to her figure and hugging her with her free arm. She might’ve stopped crying, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t in need for her mother as well.

It’s only after a while of basking in the comforting presence of your mother that your sniffles begin to quiet down, which Minako takes as a cue to finally ask.

“What happened? I just saw a group of kids running away and Y/N’s cries”

“Somebody scared Y/N-chan” Hinata says through a runny nose and a strained throat, which causes Minako to hold her even closer to her.

“Naoaki scared them away” Ren adds, gluing to his mother’s free side and hugging her leg.

"Oh no, that's terrible" Tomoko frets, worriedly looking over to her own children as if to check they weren’t equally affected as Minako’s children have been.

Naoaki seemed to be rather… unaffected by the incident, outside of being concerned for you and your sister. He was evidently pissed that this had even occurred in the first place, not bothering to ask the culprits the reason behind their actions—he was not interested in justifying them, not when he had bigger things to do like step in and protect the young girls. But she could also find underlying guilt behind his eyes… misplaced guilt, for how could he know there was someone planning something as unfortunate as this?

From there, she glances at Naoya. While he hadn’t been in the actual crossfire, he was still present. Present enough to be affected by this sour turn of events, made evident by the heavy shift on the atmosphere caused by the upsetting sight of the horrifying teenagers and the two crying girls. 

What transpired was also enough to perturb him to the point where he’d actually stuck to Naoaki’s side in efforts to seek comfort, eventually turning into the form of Tomoko’s hand, which he grasped almost immediately after she was within arms reach.

A gesture that has Tomoko looking down to her youngest out of concern, and through a silent understanding, she declares.

“I… think it’s better if we call it a night”

"Yeah. I think that's too much excitement for today" Minako kisses your forehead once more upon feeling you relax against her embrace, finally, calm and quiet after venting all the anguish from your heart. "I’m so sorry Tomoko-san, truly. I assured you that this was a safe place where our kids would have fun, but they did not. I don’t know how I can make it up to you”

Your mother attempts to bow with you in her arms, but Tomoko rushes to stop her.

“No, Minako-san, don’t worry about it. It was just an accident” She says “Besides, you’re not responsible for their actions. You have nothing to be held accountable for, please don’t torment yourself for this”

Minako mouths a small, but earnest, thank you, before moving on with their next trajectory of the night.

Both mother’s ended up calling their respective partners to inform them that they would be returning home much sooner than expected.

Your mother intended the call to be of the informative nature, notify Eiichi that they’d be grabbing a cab back to the estate so he wouldn’t have to drive down to the village, but considering the overprotectiveness nature of her husband, she anticipated him freaking out as soon as he knew of the scary incident that led to this change of plans—and he did.

There was no way Eiichi would sit at his desk, arms crossed, miles away from his family, while they needed his solace. So he miraculously pulled a few strings to temporarily get out of work and go pick them up personally.

Meanwhile, Tomoko’s husband… Well, he didn’t say much. Outside of being glad that the night had ended earlier than anticipated for he wasn’t fond of his family staying out late. She intentionally avoided reaching the subject of the “prank” for she disliked having to entertain a husband who had the habit of questioning the integrity of others whenever something goes differently to the accorded, when it was a simple unrelated accident. Not everyone had a ridiculous amount of money to spend in perfection, more so when this was a “casual” night for the kids.

As expected, Naobito was unavailable to pick them up but still reassured her that a chauffeur would be there in his presence as soon as possible. Neither her or her children were surprised by this decision, but there’s no denying that at least one of them hoped he would have done differently. Isn’t it alarming enough that they had to leave early?

Outside of this, it was safe that all the kids were disappointed that they had to leave early. 

They had yet to go to the rest of the neighborhoods, visit the ones where the rich people lived and get the good candy, as well as partake in the activities the community had set up for them, such as carving pumpkins, trying out masks, or going through a pumpkin patch.

Well, Hinata and Ren weren’t too bothered by that. Not when it comes to placing your safety first. And they were also tired from butting heads with Naoya.

But if there was one kid in particular that didn't like the whole leaving the party too soon thing more than the others, it was Naoya.

And not because he wanted more candy, he could always get that at home just by asking for it.

It's because he didn't want to leave you just yet.

Now that he’d managed to get through the mental turmoil the past succession had placed him in, he realized that he would be able to see you… god knows when. He counted with the rest of the night to make his move, but his plans were cut short because of those stupid teenagers.

But the thing that he hated the most was how they made you cry.

He never knew he could feel so sad from watching someone's teary face, that is, until he saw yours.

Naoya resented the fact that he just stood there, petrified by the horrifying noise of their screams and your frets, unable to do anything to help you because he was too startled himself, which inevitably left the road wide open for his brother to become the hero of the story, yet again.

Naoya was supposed to help you. He was supposed to be close to you and protect you. He feels confused, guilty, sad, for not being able to do anything at all throughout the night, when Naoaki did the exact opposite.

Sure, he was glad that his brother stepped in to put a stop to all this, but… he just… Well, first of all, he wasn’t expecting him to actually go above and beyond by giving you all his chocolates when that should’ve been him! Secondly, the fact that he hasn’t done anything to get to know you better is enough to have him reek with dissatisfaction.

But far from him trying to make himself the hero of the story, which don’t get me wrong, he still wanted to be…

He wanted to see you happy again. He didn’t want this night to end on a sad note for you.

So, determined to make things right, if only for one time during this night, he makes haste to take advantage of the last moment he’d have with you before leaving to make the biggest sacrifice a kid can make during Halloween night.

"Y/N" he calls, and you, now standing to your mother’s side once you begged and pleaded towards her to let you down once you began to feel a bit better, turn around.

"Hi…" you say, a yawn appearing mid way just to reflect how tired you’d ended up after all the emotional and physical exhaustion of your first trick-or-treating session, much to your dissatisfaction. “Sorry… Hi” you try again with an apology and a smile.

Naoya blinks for a moment before falling back in place by pressing his lips together as his gaze falls to the floor. This wasn’t supposed to be as nerve wracking as it was, but even then, that wouldn’t stop him, not when he already committed to the idea.

He takes a deep breath, gathering all the courage he can get to do what he wants next.

With his heart beating on his ears, ruby cheeks and brows pressed together, he stretches his arm and finally looks up to you.

"Here" he says, nudging his basket full of candy closer to you.

Now it’s your time to falter while eyeing his offering with much caution and wonder, unable to interpret the true intention behind his gesture outside of… well, what?

"Take it" Naoya feels obliged to clarify upon seeing your confused pout, carefully dangling the basket before you once more.

"Why?" you eventually ask, tilting your head to the side.

"I don't like it" Naoya lies, but he really doesn’t know what else to say to convince you. "I want you to have it"

You don’t seem to be convinced by his answer, which only makes Naoya feel more and more anxious by the second. First, because he suddenly felt the sharp gazes of your siblings stuck to his back, so he wanted you to make up your mind before they started to close in.

Secondly, because he felt like you were rejecting him—and that meant that his brother had managed to make more of a… lasting impression on you. And he dreaded to think that even when he finally gathered the courage to talk to you, it wasn’t enough.

Had he miscalculated your initial reaction towards him?

However, all of his worries were for naught, for after a few seconds of consideration, your small arms stretched to his and grabbed onto the handle of the basket, carefully taking the object away from him. 

It’s only for the briefest of moments that he’s able to brush against your fingers, but he already knows there’s nothing softer in this world that he’d rather hold.

Naoya’s anxiety has an unwanted return when he sees you silently stare at his offering, his worry lingering back to Naoaki, fearing that you might see his actions as a poor plagiarism of his… 

But his worries were for naught once again, for you’d eventually look up to him to give him another one of your loving smiles, one that cemented his first victory of the night, for it’s a reaction Naoaki hadn’t received in his moment, as well as ensuring your happiness before tonight ended.

“Thank you!” You grin, pulling the candies closer to you, seemingly overjoyed to receive an addition for your harvest.

“You’re welcome” Naoya sheepishly responds, face even redder when he catches you staring at him with that big toothy smile of yours longer than he anticipated, before turning around with the intention to return by your mom’s side.

It’s at this moment that he feels an itch on his throat, one that he has the extreme need to alleviate.

“Y/N?” he calls, and you turn around.

Curious e/c eyes falling on his face as you fathom the redness forming on his cheeks through the dimness of the street light, making you wonder if he was feeling sick.

“...Don’t cry” he murmurs, and you blink for a few moments before a frown settles on your face.

“I’m not crying” you explain and he scoffs.

“I mean” Naoya looks away, feeling more embarrassed by the second as a pout forms on his lips “Don’t cry again. I don’t like it when you’re sad”

It’s his way to say that he wants to make you happy, but you, not having the same perception as he did, limit yourself to take his words as those of comfort.

“I don’t like being sad either!” You respond, giving him another smile “But thank you, Noya-kun! And sorry for worrying you”

Naoya can’t help his heart from soaring upon hearing the adorable butchering of his name, which far from interpreting it as a mispronunciation, he takes it as a nickname. Another privilege he holds over Naoaki and possibly even your siblings.

He did it.

He won. He made you happy. And his older brother has no clue!

And he never would, because Naoaki… well, he was just in another entirely different realm when it comes to the antics of his youngest brother. 

Serves to show what the usual dynamic between the youngest and the eldest was like back in the estate—it’s no wonder the rest of the siblings had no issue sitting this one out once they heard Naoaki and Naoya would be attending, cloaking behind poor Naofumi as an excuse.

Nonetheless, Naoya would enjoy the victory his sacrifice brought him, a step closer to winning your heart. 

He knew that you’d enjoy this candy, and whenever you unwrapped one of them, you’d think of him! Now, isn’t that a bigger accomplishment than what Naoaki ever achieved in his life? (Outside of saving you, but that’s something that he’ll get to do another time)

Oh, how naive of him. If only I knew you were happy for some other reason....

It wouldn’t take long before your father arrived, and when he did, he jumped out of the car as soon as the engine shut down, not bothering to check if he’d closed the door appropriately or if he even parked correctly inside the delimited space. Traffic tickets had no weight in his mind, not when his sole focus was zeroing on his family and embracing his poor daughters followed by endlessly peppering their chubby faces with kisses as he frantically inquired.

“Are you ok Y/N?! Hinata?! Is either hurt?? Where are those damned—”

“They’re fine now, Eiichi” Minako reassures him “But that doesn’t mean you should be all over our babies”

“I’m not a baby” Hinata retorted.

“Minako! How could you say that?!” Eiichi gasps theatrically “Not after they got scared!—by the way, Hinata, you’re still my baby— I won’t stop till they get what they deserve!” 

Your mother can only shrug and sigh as a response. She knows there’s no way to talk sense into him when he’s like this, so instead, she decides to move and bid farewells to Tomoko and her family.

“And that’s our cue to leave” Minako regrets with a nervous smile.

“Outside of what happened, I had a good time” Tomoko smiles back, moving in to hug her best friend.

“Likewise. I’m glad you were able to come”

“I hope to see you at Junko’s baby shower? I’ll be sending the invitations soon!” Naoya’s eyes sparkle with anticipation at the prospect of seeing you again. This time, he’ll be equipped with all the knowledge he can get of pokemon after his father buys him all the games!

“I’ll be there” Your mother promises. She then waves goodbye to Tomoko’s kids, Naoaki being as gracious as ever by expressing how happy he was to see her again, and Naoya… well, as reserved as he always was, except for a curt nod and a wave, dignified for his only ally of the night.

The family of 5 eventually make their way back into the car, each kid waving the Zen’in’s one last time through the window as the engine started up once more, and then, disappeared, giving closure to the celebration.

Once the car was out of sight, Tomoko sighed, slumping her shoulders as she reflected back to her present children.

To say that she was glad that Naoya and Naoaki had remained somewhat… amicable throughout the whole night was an understatement. She was overjoyed as well as she was anxious.

They were known for being rowdy towards one another for the simplest of reasons, and although she guessed that could extend to the rest of her kids, these two had seemed to have a personal vendetta against each other.

Tomoko tried her best to control that aspect of their personality, but she eventually gave up after realizing that no matter what she did, no matter what incentives she gave to promote a healthy relationship, it was never enough.

So she just resigned with the assumption that they’d eventually grow out of this, mainly when Naoya is a bit older, for he was usually the prime instigator of their arguments.

Their good behavior had given her a dose of much needed tranquility, and after all that occurred, she assumes they’ll remain like that during their trip back to the estate, and for the rest of the night.

«A moment of peace and quiet» She says, giving them a small smile.

“I’m proud of how you two stepped up to help Y/N-chan and Hinata-chan. Thank you” She praised “I’ll prepare something for the two of you tomorrow, but for now, let’s just wait for the chauffeur”

Naoya smirks, feeling a shudder urge of righteousness sprouting from deep inside him as he recounts his honoring moment before you, while Naoaki mouths a simple thank you, his mind already set somewhere else. Anywhere else to kill time so he can go back home and retake his plans.

There was a horror movie that he wanted to see scheduled for broadcast at midnight, and he wasn’t about to miss it for anything in the world, mentally preparing a list of snacks he’d want to indulge whilst watching the movie, that is, until the absence of a certain… particularity catches his attention from the corner of his eye, interesting enough to prompt his inquiry.

“Naoya, where is your candy?” he asks, and as if he’d spoken the biggest offense in the world, his youngest brother retaliates.

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” Naoya snaps back, blowing a raspberry at him followed by a punch on his arm “Stupid Naoaki!”

Tomoko sighs.

«And that’s all it was, just a moment»

The first thing that Eiichi did as soon as his shift ended was head straight back home to his awaiting family, who had agreed to wait for him to compensate for their abrupt change of plans, as well as his absence.

The excitement of spending time with his children before the 31st ended, as well as the pictures his wife took for the family album, was enough to encourage him to power through the rest of his tasks, and in record time no less

Back at the L/N estate, Eiichi wasted no time to head over to the living room, where the servants had informed him his wife and children were to be.

The kids were out of their costumes and dressed up comfortably in their pajamas, surrounded by popcorn and candy baskets, as they sat before the T.V., a Halloween movie on the screen.

The first one to notice his presence was you, to which you reacted by jumping up from the pillow you were sitting on and rushing to him, hugging his leg.

“Welcome home!!”

“It’s good to be back, little one!” He says, lifting you up and kissing your right cheek “Did you miss me?”

“...A bit” you admit through giggling “we’re watching a movie!”

“I can see that” Eiichi looks at the screen, but he’s unable to identify which movie they’re watching by the frozen frame on screen—Ren would later inform him it was The nightmare before Christmas “Care to make space for me?”

“Actually, I think there’s something you’d rather do instead” Minako says with a proud grin , taking out the album covertly hidden behind her and offers it to her husband “All pictures from tonight, printed and organized by child”

Eiichi carefully places you back down to the ground and rushes his way towards his wife, adoration filling his eyes as he cheers “You’re the best!” it’s not her time to be covered with kisses “I can’t believe you already had them printed!”

“Well, we did buy the printer so we wouldn’t have to go out and wait for them to be revealed” Minako explains “It’s one of the many pros of having our own computer at—”

“Mom, can we watch the movie?” Hinata says. She’d been patient enough to let their parents talk and catch up once dad was back, but after hearing them gush about their shared interest in pictures, she grew restless. They didn’t need to be present to talk about that, right? Or pause the movie for that matter!

“Alright, alright” Minako chuckles, pulling herself up from the floor with the help of her husband and handing Ren the controller “We’ll be in the other room if you need anything, ok?”

The kids don’t respond, their attention already stuck on the glowing screen before them as soon as Ren hits the play button. 

With all the calm of the world, Eiichi can finally enjoy the recollections of his family's first trick-or-treating together through the glossy imprint of the stills before him.

He opens the album. The first section is dedicated to group photos in general, his family standing alongside Tomoko’s.

Eiichi remembers exactly what he told Minako before he left, but it didn’t mean he’d blow up if she did. After all, Tomoko is someone he considers a dear friend and was glad that his wife went ahead and took pictures for them to have as well, she always had a good eye for photography after all.

He just wouldn’t hang their pictures on the wall, though.

He’d eventually move onto the next parts, his favorite ones. The pictures exclusively  portray his family. The way their enjoyment appeared to be portrayed in each photo was enough to fill him with happiness—even considering making a postcard for his distant relatives. ..Should he do such a thing?

Nah, these are precious memories to be shared with others, he’d rather keep them for themselves. 

Now, the parts he was looking forward to the most. Starting with Ren's section.

He was rather quiet and collected, so it was natural that the camera would catch this as well. Most of his pictures portrayed him rather… serious, with the occasional smile or peace sign appearing every 3 or 4 pictures. «I guess he wanted to play into the obscure aura of the undead with his skeleton costume. Eitherway, they’re good pictures!» Eiichi would move on to the next part, Hinata’s.

The one that always followed her mother’s lead: if there was a pose that Minako wanted her to make, she’d strike immediately after and with such fluidity that had her parents thinking she’d be a good model if given the opportunity. A natural before the camera! And she really played the role of a police officer, going ahead to show off her badge and whatnot, which only made her photos even better.

And finally, you. He didn’t want to admit it out loud, for a parent isn’t supposed to show preference over any of their children, but he was secretly looking forward to your photos the most. And could anyone blame him? It was your first halloween going out trick-or-treating, it was only natural that his attention would gravitate more towards you! 

You were still shy, as expected of your age, but Minako managed to get some good pictures of you showing off your purple onesie of a character he still can’t put his finger on quite well. There were moments where you’d appeared introverted before the camera, hiding underneath the hood of your attire, and others where you seemed to dive into character, baring your teeth before the lens, intending to look intimidating.

Well, whatever the outcome, he was glad that you and your siblings had fun, and adoringly so!

Oh, he wishes he could’ve been there to see his family in person. But he could always look back to these pictures whenever he’s feeling particularly nostalgic.

Certainly, there’s nothing that could possibly ruin—

Wait.

Wait a minute.

There's …

What is that? A blemish?

Is… is he seeing things?

No. That can’t be, it’s right there before him. A detail that… Did Minako not see this?

Did she accidentally skip this picture, perhaps? 

A small detail that he doesn’t like… at all.

Whenever you appear, there's something, or more likely someone lingering close to you.  A black uniformed kid just… standing there, either a few feet away from you, if not beside you.

He analyzes the picture for a few moments before moving onto another one, and the other, and another. It's not long before he comes to the crashing realization that most of your pictures were alongside this boy!  Not even in Ren’s, or Hinata’s. Just yours.

Eiichi is at a blank state of mind when it comes to remembering who is the one behind the mask, that is, until he stumbles into a picture where the face of the uniformed kid is fully revealed. An answer that has him losing all of his breath as swirls his head over to his wife, who jolts as his sudden reaction.

"Why– why is— Is this Naoya?!" He says, taking out one of the many incriminating pictures from the album and handing them over to Minako, who could only frown in confusion.

“Yeah…? What about it?” She asks, still confused.

“What do you… Why is he next to our baby??”

“I didn't see anything wrong with it, it's a good picture, wouldn't you agree?” Minako persuades, and Eiichi groans.

"No! It has Naoya in it! I thought I told you I only wanted pictures of our kids!"

"I know, I know. But I wasn't about to ask Naoya-kun to step away from the picture! What would Tomoko-san think of that after all the ones I’ve taken of Y/N alone, hmm?"

"But is there really not a single picture without him there!

"Pfft, you’re exaggerating, dear! Minako says, glancing over his shoulder and onto the album "See? There's some of Y/N alone, I even asked her to pose so she could show off her costume"

"And I greatly appreciate you for it, but still… Why are there so many of her with him…? Not even Naoaki is here…" he murmurs, eyes glancing back down to the pictures. He scans through them quickly, counting just how many pictures Naoya photobombed.

Only to abruptly stop when a familiar sight catches his attention.

A basket. More precisely, a white colored basket.

Naoya's basket. 

The one in the picture…  there’s something intriguing about it, enough to make him stop passing through the pages. Almost as if he’d seen it before, and rather recently at that, but he doesn’t remember where…

Just where exactly did he see it? Not as his job, none of his employees brought any candy… maybe at the—

He freezes.

Oh.

Oh no.

He knows now, he saw it in his house.

In the living room

Just besides the couch.

A shiver travels through his spine as countless scenarios traverse his mind, all leaning into the worst possible outcomes.

He needs an answer, and he needs it now.

Eiichi wastes no second to barge through the door as he rushes through the living room, an alarmed Minako trailing behind him as she repeatedly asks him what’s wrong.

She eventually catches up to him to the even more confusing sight of her husband standing near you. Poor Minako has yet to understand the excruciating pain Eiichi is going through as he murmurs the following.

"Y/N… my pumpkin, my sugar cookie, my precious honey bear…” he asks, voice trembling as he leaned closer to you, his words although low, are loud enough for Hinata and Ren which reprimanded him with a sharp shh! But even then, that doesn’t stop him from moving forward. “Where did you get those candies…?" His fingers reflect the shivering state of his voice as he now points to the still full (although a bit less than when it was given to you, thanks to your efforts) incriminating bucket in front of you.

And just as if you'd remembered a misplaced secret, you mouthed a quiet "oh!" before jolting out from your cushioned seat and grabbing the container, a chocolatey grin on your lips as you proudly exclaimed.

"Noya-kun gave them to me!" You shove the basket towards him, finally revealing the reason why you were so happy to get them in the first place "They're for you, that way we won't share!"

"Oh… so that's where they came fr–" Minako murmurs from the door frame, but the rest of her words don't go past her lips thanks to the interrupting shrill of an overprotective father who just realized that his worst fear had become a reality.

"NOYA?!" he cries, flickering back to Minako, as if asking if she was aware of this "HE ALREADY HAS A NICKNAME?!!"

"Dear, quiet down, some are already asleep" Minako, now by his side, cautions him as she places her hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down before any of the sleeping staff or family members come check if everything is alright… or complain. 

“Dad! Shut up!!” Hinata groans. Having lived and grown with their father, they're no longer moved by his melodramatic antics, nurturing some kind of resistance that limits them to give him a scowl as well as a warning glance whenever he goes off on his delusions, such as the one Ren is giving him right now.

You, having yet to reach their level of expertise, all you can do is give him a confused pout in return, which still works very well with what’s happening around you.

"But–but she–" Eiichi says as he's pushed out of the room by his irked wife, who wasn’t willing to discuss in front of the children who just wanted to make the best of the only night they could stay up without worrying about school the next day "I won't allow it! It'll be the last time they're ever invited to trick or treat with us!" 

"Huh?!" She exclaimed "Tomoko-san won't like that, you know!"

"I can't allow that boy to be near our precious daughter! She's too good for him! Or anyone for that matter!!"

"You couldn't possibly be serious, Eiichi" Minako rolls her eyes. "Besides, they're just kids! Y/N doesn't really care for anything else other than her cartoons and Naoya just gave her the candy because she was sad. And apparently Naoaki did the same too."

"HE WHAT?!"

"Dear, you need to calm down" Minako suggests "Hear yourself. They were concerned because she was sad, that’s all. Also, you can't be over protective about her for all her life"

"But she… she won't stay small for too long, and before we know it, she'll get married!! Look at Ren, he's already 10!" Eiichi shrieks “And from there, a teenager, he’s going to college, he’s moving out, and then—”

"Worry about that when it happens" She comforts "You’re worrying too much about the future, that you’re missing the present! Our kids couldn’t really care less about those things. Ren just wants to listen to music all day, Hinata wants to be with the horses, and Y/N wants to play videogames. Do you really think they have time to think about girlfriends and boyfriends?”

“... I mean, if you put it that way…”

“It’s the only way, Eiichi”

"... I guess" he sighs, looking away, feeling embarrassed for his over the top reaction. "...I just got worried, I guess."

"There's nothing to fear, just… be there. To love them, to cherish them, to protect them. Y/N is too young to notice it, but if you keep on like this then she won’t trust you to tell you things. Besides, I think the real issue here is Naoya not having candy for Halloween, we can't let Y/N think that's right… I can’t believe I didn’t notice, and she didn’t tell me either!"

"I know… I know…" Eiichi grabs her hand and kisses her knuckles as an apology "I’m sorry. Thank you, Minako. You’ve always been the better half of this marriage”

“Oh, stop it Eiichi” She laughs “We compliment each other, I’ve always believed that”

“I guess I really do have to take it one day at a time. I just can't believe she's already 6"

“She is growing pretty fast…” she giggles, kissing his hand in return "How about you continue looking  through the album and select the better pictures? Or better yet, change into your pajamas and join us to see a movie. Who knows? Maybe Y/N will let you have some of her own candy instead—just promise me you’ll keep quiet, I can already see Hinata losing more and more of her patience by the second"

"Oh, I better behave then" he laughs back "Y/N can be very protective of her sweets and I wouldn’t risk angering Hinata… or Ren, did you see his face? If looks could kill!"

Minako laughs.

Thus, your mother goes back to the living room while Eiichi heads to their bedroom to change into something more comfortable and join his family.

Your mother would like to say that this conversation wasn't really brought up ever again, or that it didn't take much of space in her mind, that would be a lie however, for the mention of Naoya liking you was one that she never considered in the past, more so when Hinata and Ren already avoided him like the plague.

But now that she thinks about it… it all became obvious to her.

Naoya sure seemed comfortable whenever around you, as well as his lingering gazes he placed on you whenever she was lucky enough to catch them at the moment, or how he’d respond attentively to you whenever you referred to him, when he kept his interactions limited with your siblings or even Naoaki…

She thought of it as just socializing, getting to know each other with the hopes of becoming friends, but now that Eiichi pointed it out… she can’t wonder, had Tomoko noticed this as well?

Nonetheless, that’s something she’d keep locked behind her lips, buried deep inside her mind. 

Maybe she’ll bring it up next time she sees Tomoko, probably at Junko’s baby shower…

But if she had to give her opinion about this whole ordeal, a label for a lack of better words, then she has to admit that…

"Y/N and Naoya look cute together" 

[pink-booty-butts]

Valentine’s Day Prompts - Peanuts & Promises (Chris Pitt-Goddard x Reader)

(this gif is iconic)

Pairing: Chris Pitt-Goddard x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1,045

Summary: it’s valentines day with Chris :) based on the prompt “i used to hate this holiday, you know?” “you remind me every year, honey.” from this list

Warnings: none I think!

A/N: requested by an anon, I’m so so SO sorry this took so long and I’m sorry it’s short!! Also I’m sorry if it sucks, chris is probably a bit ooc because i’ve only watched spy once haha. happy very belated valentine’s day!!

-----

It was the third Valentine’s Day the two of you were spending as a couple, yet nothing has changed since the first. You bring home heavy grocery bags filled with overpriced chocolate, and Chris picks out a selection of movies to binge watch while he cuddles with you. You were currently attempting to get the keys out of your jacket pocket without putting your bags down, but Chris apparently heard you struggling as the door swung open and you were greeted with the widest smile you think you’ve seen your boyfriend produce.

“Well hello there, cinnamon roll,” he mentions nonchalantly; quickly grabbing the bags from your hands and giving you a kiss on the cheek. He sets them down on the coffee table before sitting on the couch, tapping the cushion next to him impatiently as he waits for you to sit down so he can smother you in affection. “I missed you so much today,” he expresses.

You chuckle while you take your shoes off, touched by Chris’ comment. You lock the door before walking around the coffee table, sitting down next to Chris and sinking into the couch cushions. As soon as you do so, Chris wraps his arms around your waist and leans forward, causing your back to hit the couch cushions while he lays on top of you.

“I missed you too, Chris,” you smile. At your admission he snuggles his face into your neck, pressing a kiss there, before using his other hand to press the play button and begin your movie marathon.

A couple of finished movies later, Chris is busy finding the next movie he has selected for you guys to watch and you’re in the middle of your bathroom break. Once he finds the movie he was looking for, Chris leans back against the couch and notices your beverage cup is empty, so he picks it up and goes to refill it. While doing so he gets lost in thought, looking around your shared apartment that was currently a trip hazard due to the overwhelming amount of clear plastic wrap, chocolate wrappers, and heart shaped box ends littering the floor that neither of you could be bothered to dispose of neatly. While Chris laments that he wouldn’t have it any other way, he is abruptly shaken from his thoughts when he hears the toilet flush; a blessing in disguise as he nearly overfilled your cup of water. He walks back over to the couch with your cup —expertly navigating the mess as he does so— resulting in him setting down your cup on the table right when you return. He sighs happily, gazing at you like a love-sick puppy.

“Thank you for filling up my water,” you tell him, smiling while taking another sip.

Chris grins, amused by the sight of you drinking water after having just gone to the toilet. “If you keep drinking water like that your peanut-sized bladder is going to make you have to get up during the next movie, peanut.”

“You know Chris, normally the food names are cute, but considering you just used the same word to describe my bladder, I’m not sure how to feel about that one,” you laugh.

“Well, peanuts are cute, you are cute, and since your bladder is inside of you, that means your bladder is also cute,” he explains matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrow raises in mock confusion, but you can’t hide the grin spreading across your face no matter how hard you try. “I wish there was something else inside me right about now, if you know what I mean.” Chris smirks at your dirty joke, giving you an eyebrow wiggle and a saucy ‘oh really?’ before the two of you erupt in a fit of giggles.

Chris wraps his arms around you again, laying on top of you the same way as before. “I used to hate this holiday, you know,” he tells you, his voice muffled against your neck.

“I know Chris, you tell me every year how ‘corporations are just profiting off people’s insecure relationships with their significant others, and if they really loved each other, they’d do it everyday.’”

“Exactly peanut,” he agrees. He raises his head to give you a quick peck on the lips, before burying his head in the crook of your neck once again. “You get me, this is why we’re perfect for each other. I love you so much,” he expresses, squeezing you tightly. 

You fall into a comforting silence, enjoying the warm embrace of each other’s presence. However, Chris begins to remember what he was thinking about when you were in the bathroom, and his thoughts quickly turn sour. “Do you think we’ll still be together next year?” he asks, a hint of insecurity in his voice.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?” you question, panic rising in your chest. “Is something wrong?”

“No of course not,” he adds quickly. “It’s just, do you ever think about how our relationship is so perfect? I always thought relationships were supposed to be hard, but when I’m around you everything just feels... easier.”

“I used to think that too, but now I think it just means we’re super compatible,” you respond, trying to ease his anxieties.

“Yeah, you’re probably right, butterscotch,” he lazily leans his arm over the table to put a chocolate in his mouth. He chews slowly, savoring the taste. “We’re going to be together forever, right?”

“Definitely,” you answer, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close to you.

Chris smiles against your neck in response, before lifting his head up again to give you another kiss; almost as if he couldn’t help himself. You then exchange little, fleeting kisses with plenty of giggles in between them, which slowly grow more desperate and heated. 

Through your exchange of soft touches, one of you manages to accidentally hit the remote and the movie Chris selected begins playing right when he slips his hand underneath your shirt. The two of you stop your movements to look at the TV briefly before glancing back at each other, nodding in agreement and diving in for another passionate kiss. The movie continues playing in the background, but it was long forgotten in favor of feeling your skin against his.