#also is this angst??? I don’t think so but it definitely has a more melancholy vibe to it lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

breyito · 3 months ago

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Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part Three: Paths Converging

Continuation of Day 1 and 2 of @painlandweek

Part 1 Part 2 Chapters: 3/5 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin PayneUnhinged Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Violence, Torture, Hurt Charles Rowland (DCU), Sickfic, love language: acts of service, painlandweek, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Angst with a Happy Ending

Here on AO3

A/N: Hello! I'm so, so sorry about the delay! My ADHD has been kicking my ass for the last couple of weeks and istg i feel like i can't do anything. Anyways. I had to split this chapter in half, cause it was getting ridiculously long again, and I wasnt going to finish the rest of it today. (I have this new app on my phone that is voice-to-text and it changed my life! All the dialogues i keep forgetting bc of lack of energy to write i can just *dictate* and it feels so good lol. It also lenghtened this quite a bit, tho.) No moodboard for this one either, not yet. I'll try to make one tomorrow (or in a few hours, as it is, once again, 5am). No beta and English is not my native language, so any mistakes please point them out. I hope you enjoy this one! I'm very curious about what you'll think of this one ;P Oh, WARNING:This contains violence, threats of rape towards Charles and other children's souls, etc.

Part Three: Paths Converging

They headed back to the office. On the way, Crystal with her phone in her ear, Edwin had explained the general gist of things to her. Mainly that the other ghost hadn’t known the location of the lair of the witch, but had visited a few times. To allow him to travel there via mirror, she had given him a token attuned to him and his energy. They could use the token, but not to travel with it more than once; and definitely not to escape the place. (Not to mention that Crystal would have never let Edwin go on his own alone, without even the possibility of helping him. She was glad, still, that the ghost boy had not even suggested that.)

“So how can we use it?” she asked, looking right at him, as she plopped down on the couch. They were inside the office now and nosy taxi drivers couldn’t watch her suspiciously anymore. Also, she was exhausted and couldn’t bother with more acting for a couple of hours.

Edwin had gone straight to the massive pile of books on top of every single flat surface, including boxes full of files. He had looked at the books covering the desk for a full thirty seconds and then sent a wave of the black smoke at them, and they actually began moving on their own towards the floor. Crystal was…ignoring that for now, for the sake of her sanity. (How many things was she already ignoring?)

“I think I can combine a couple of rituals to create a sort of…tether, between Charles and myself.” he replied to her, as he removed his outer layers. “This would, basically, allow us to communicate with him and follow his energy to the place where the witch has absconded him.”

“Don’t tethers usually need something more physical to work?” she questioned, curious. At least that’s what the book she had been reading before their last case went wildly off course had said. Maybe the black smoke allowed him to tweak the limits?

“I have something more physical of his.” Edwin said, touching Charles’ necklace still around his neck. ”And for me, well, some blood or the ghost equivalent should work.” His eyes showed his mind went far, far away for a couple of moments. She said nothing, remembering the sudden rush of cold, dark, wet she had felt the last time she touched it. Edwin eventually shook off the melancholy and straightened his posture.

“I will need to compile the different arrays and rites I need to build this ritual. It will take me at least a few hours, so I suggest you rest up.”

“Are you sure I can’t help you…?” she asked, despite knowing he probably wouldn’t let her. Building rituals from scratch was a whole new area and she had exactly zero experience with that.

“Crystal.” He sighed, already spreading an alarming amount of books on the now clean desk. “I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you have a working knowledge of any of the Celtic languages, Aramaic, Latin or Fuþorc Runes I’ll ask you to keep out of it.”

“Okay, okay.” she rolled her eyes. Kicking her shoes off, she got comfortable on the couch and covered herself with the blanket. “But wake me up if you need to leave, alright?” she mumbled, half asleep already. “I don’t wanna panic if you’re not there when I wake up…”

Several hours later, Edwin shook her awake. Still woozy from sleep, she understood he needed a specific kind of knife he didn’t have but knew where to get. And that he had to travel by mirror to the place. She mumbled her understanding to him, and he left.

It was only when she was about to drop back into a deep sleep that her brain actually zoned in to the important part. She sat up on the couch so suddenly she felt dizzy.

“ Esther Finch’s fucking house!?” she yelled at the flat mirror, frustrated beyond belief. “Are you shitting me , Edwin!?” she cursed at the empty office. She creamed into the pillow a bit more, then got up. At least this should give her time to shower.

—-- —-- —--

Edwin really doesn’t want to go back to Port Townsend. The place was bleak, damp and filled with memories of suffering. Whether it is mental, emotional or physical; he’d experienced more pain in that little town in a single month than in the rest of the world in the last fifteen years.

But Charles was missing. Taken by another witch with a penchant for sick, twisted games and children’s pain. The ritual he came up with was novel and needed every single element to work. The dagger was fundamental. Edwin could not risk wasting more time looking for another knife with the same qualities when he already knew the location of one.

So he travelled to Port Townsend via mirror. He landed in Crystal’s old room above Jenny’s shop, and walked up to the house in a disguise. It was better than trying to travel directly inside Finch’s house, which surely had enchantments against ghosts using her mirrors that way.

As soon as his feet landed inside a ten metre radius, he could feel the repellent wards telling him to go away. This magic felt different than Finch’s. Probably the Cat King, then. Or maybe Tragic Mick? He ignored the compulsion, and kept walking up the path into the porch.

He took off his glasses before reaching the stairs, and became his true self again. A loud caw immediately greeted him. He paused and looked back, and saw Monty in his true form on a tree branch. The pause allowed the crow to land in the handrail of the porch, exuding an air of disapproval. Edwin sighed.

“I need to get something from inside this house.” he said, focusing on one of the crows’ eyes. “I’m not going to-” he paused before he promised something he couldn’t keep. Because he couldn’t promise not to hurt someone with what he took from inside. “I’m going to get something from inside this house.” He said instead. “And you are not going to stop me.”

Monty lifted into the air, agitated, cowing. His wings produced so much wind that Edwin took a step back, but then straightened up and pulled his notebook and held it open with one hand.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Monty.” he stated. “But I will if you try to stop me.” His other hand opened and a bright orange flame erupted, tinged with wisps of black. An alarmed cry made Edwin feel like garbage, but he held the flame on his palm. In control, but ready to attack.

The crow flew off then, shrill caws on his way. Edwin took a deep breath and extinguished the fire, wiping his hand on his coat. He pocketed his notebook and climbed the stairs. Fortunately, he went in as easily as he had done for Becky.

By the time Edwin had found the dagger, and snatched a book that looked like it had been involved in the creation of the ghastly machine that so much pain it had caused him; it was already too late. He felt a pulse of energy from outside, and cursed under his breath. He could try to undo the spells on the mirrors of the house, but that would take too long. So he sighed and marched outside.

“Edwin, Edwin, Edwin. You don't write, you don't call…” the Cat King said with a fake moue. Edwin looked up and saw Monty flying in circles above their heads. Little snitch , he thought, resentful.

“Cat King.” he said, nodding in respect, trying to walk around him. “I'm just leaving.” But diplomacy never worked on him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The other man clicked his tongue, stepping in Edwin’s path. The ghost boy stopped where he was, not willing to get closer.

“What do you think you are doing, entering the house of the Wicked Witch of the West?” The shapeshifter asked, sauntering around him. He was wearing heeled boots, and it added a little height difference that irked Edwin.

“I already have what I came here looking for. Now, if you please, I'm in a hurry.” Edwin tried to give another step, but the Cat King walked closer again, forcing him to step back. He was not putting himself in reach again. Monty cowed, flying faster, agitated.

“No. I don't think I please.” he tilted his head. “Knowledge like Esther's is dangerous. And I just can't let you leave with something dangerous.” The trickster’s tone was still playful, and it was grating on Edwin’s nerves.

“Knowledge is just knowledge.” the detective said, exasperated. “And I'm not asking you for permission.” he countered, snappish, head held high. “You're wasting my time .” The Cat King’s eyes shone.

“You should always have time for me, dear.” he said, smile cutting. “I can always just trap you here again, Edwin.” He offered, the smile still on.

“...And I can always start killing your subjects until you let me leave. But we are not doing that, are we, Thomas? ” he smirked back, biting. There was something cold in those green eyes that made the shifter want to shiver. The faint wisps of black coming up from the ground were certainly unnerving. Monty screeched in alarm and abruptly landed on a branch several metres down.

“You know my name.” the Cat King realised, stepping back.

“I do. I know a lot of things about you now.” the ghost added, taking a step forward. “You like to play games . But I already knew that, from last time.” Edwin took another step closer. “The difference is, Charles is not with me right now. And I don't have a lot of patience for games when he is in danger.” he snarled.

“So that is why you're doing this? For him? You came all the way to America, to the house where you were tortured in, just for him ?” Thomas asked, indignant.

“I would do many more things for him.” Edwin stated, staring right into those yellow eyes, daring. The shifter scoffed, leaning closer, looking down at the ghost.

“Like threatening me?” The man asked, incredulous.

“I'm not threatening you. I'm warning you.” Edwin said, looking up, teeth bared. It looked more like a show of aggression from a cornered animal than a smile. “You're either on my side, or standing in my fucking way. And I'll get through anything standing in my way to get to him.” Their faces were only a few centimetres apart now, noses almost touching.

Thomas knew, in that moment, that Edwin was being completely honest. He seemed not to care a single bit what could happen to him as long as he could leave to go help his little friend. Nor what enemies he could leave behind. The Cat King felt a bit peeved about it, quite hot under the collar, and a lot jealous. That kind of loyalty to another person, to the point of detriment to yourself? He’d never felt it nor had he had it. It was alluring , damn it.

“Deathly little thing, aren’t you?” he whispered to this mysterious boy, unwillingly feeling more attracted to him still. The tension between them finally broke when Edwin’s lips formed a teasing smile and his eyes softened a little.

“Only when I have to.” he whispered back, before breaking his gaze and pressing the faintest of kisses on Thomas’ jaw, surprising him. He then sidestepped him and walked out of the yard.

By the time the Cat King turned around, Edwin was already jumping into a puddle, travelling to where he needed to be. Monty cowed twice and Thomas felt the hidden amusement.

“Oh, shut it, bird-boy. Like you didn’t defy your witch for him, even after he rejected you.” he snapped.

—-- —-- —--

Charles woke up all at once, gasping. He was sopping wet and chained to the ceiling. The metal of the chains was iron, and they were burning every part of his body that touched them. He was still only wearing his trousers, felt his extremities numb with cold and some of his curls had crusted over with ice.

When his eyes got used to the dim room, he could see it was the same basement he had been trapped in since the beginning. The only real difference was that he wasn’t alone this time. There was a woman on the corner, deep in the shadows. For what he could see, she was pretty fit. Charles might have looked twice if he had seen her on the street. But with her wild blonde hair, tight red dress and tall boots; she looked like she was wearing a halloween costume that couldn’t decide if it was vampire or witch. A large white spider, with its eyes closed, peacefully placed inside her hair didn’t help matters. He had almost missed it.

“You’re finally awake!” she cheered, getting closer. “Now we can finally get started .” her grin was dangerous and the boy felt a shiver go down his spine.

Taking advantage of the fact that his feet barely touch the ground, she spun him around, making him lose balance. His knee buckled under him and his whole weight was left suspended from his shoulders until he managed to find his footing again. He was trembling even worse after that, and tears of frustration began leaking from his eyes.

“Are you crying? How cute .” she cooed, grabbing his face and licking the trail the drop had left on his cheek. ”I’d give you a comfort kiss, but I don’t snog anyone that’s not my man.”

“You. Are. Crazy.” Charles said, leaning away from her. The spider opened its eyes and winked with half of them, waving two of its legs. The shivers got worse.

“Don’t be like that, poppet. Everything I’m doing is for love.”

“ Love ?” he repeated, sceptical.

“Yes! I’m gonna get the love of my life back, and you’re gonna help me.”

“I don’t know anything about love potions or spells; we don’t mess with that shite.” Charles explained, weary. The witch snorted, the spider wiggled, like it was laughing too. (Was this her familiar? Did it share the same amount of sentience as Monty? Somehow, that thought was terrifying).

“Pffff, I don’t mean like that . My boo and I were tragically separated when he was killed by the police and then he got dragged to Hell! ” she huffed. “Like, what even? I just want him back .”

Usually, Charles was willing to give everyone a chance to explain themselves. It’s not like the system was flawless. Good souls could be sent to Hell, like it had happened with Edwin.

However, since he was still shivering from the literal torture this woman had put him through (torture she implied her ‘boo’ would enjoy); he would go out on a limb an bet the bloke completely deserved his tenure in Hell.

“And why was he killed by the police?” he asked anyway, already tired of dealing with this. The chat was a step up from the freezing water, but the talk itself so far was three steps down from the earlier solitude.

“Because his stupid best friend and he decided to rob a bank!” she exclaimed, clearly miffed. This time, when she grabbed him to spin him around, her nails left deep scratches, burning and bleeding. This bitch had iron in her nail polish, apparently. “They were caught doing that. I mean, you have to give it to the pigs. They really messed up on that one.”she laughed. “They were caught and got done in as fucking robbers. They didn't even search their flat! They just killed them and left them at the morgue. They never found out that we were the ones dropping the mangled bodies everywhere.”

“You're sick.” Charles said, swallowing, as he found his rooting again.

“Oh, baby, of course I am. Didn't I tell you already? I love making people break, playing with them.” She licked her lips, seductive. The ghost boy just felt nauseous. “What I love even more is watching my man do it for me. And that's why you're going to help me bring him back.”

“From Hell ?” He asked, incredulous. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn't help you. Edwin is the one with the knowledge of Hell and its paths, not me. You chose the wrong one of us to kidnap.”

“I don’t think I did. Word is, you are the one that I saved him from hell this time.” she smiled. She put her extended arm on his shoulder and placed her weight on the claw-like nails sinking in the muscle there. He felt blood dripping down his back. The spider began walking down her shoulder and onto her arm. Leaning in until their faces almost touched, she looked him dead in the eyes, despite his efforts to keep the blasted thing in his line of sight.

“I did, yeah.” He admitted. “But I had help. I had someone else, much more powerful than I or you ever could be. They opened a portal down to Hell and they kept it open until we got back. You can't do that.” He swallowed. “Can you?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking, now looking at the spider.

Cursing, she pushed him back and started roaming the room, hands wildly gesturing. The spider had quickly climbed up to her head again. Charles had lost his balance and was spinning again, but at least that beast was not near him. He took her cursing as a negative to his question. Charles wanted to believe this was good news (he dreaded the thought of that man anywhere but Hell), but you never knew how others were going to react when you didn’t give them the information they wanted. This woman? Completely bonkers. Hopefully she would just let him in here, until Edwin rescued him. Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of the basement.

“Hmm, maybe I can't open up a portal. But I can make a deal with a demon so that I can get into hell.” She was smiling again. “And you will help me find my way out.”

“A deal with a demon is a terrible idea. Besides, lady, even if I tell you all I know about hell, which I won’t do. The level Edwin was at? It was terrible, but it wasn't that deep. The level your boo must be in… it has to be one of the deepest and darkest ones, just based on what you describe me you two did, to people.”

“I can think of a few things I can offer the demon so that he helps me.” she countered, now pensive instead of agitated.

“Like what?”

“Like you, your soul. Essence, whatever. Or one of the others’.” Charles was almost afraid to ask.

“Others?”

“Oh, yeah. I've been collecting little souls as gifts for my boyfriend when he comes back. Since, you know, he won't be able to interact with the living now he is dead and will become a ghost.”

“... Little souls?” he asked again, disgusted. He tried leaning away, but she plunged her nails into his face to keep his eyes on her.

“Yeah, the souls of little ones!” she smiled, and it was a terrible smile. A wild hunger seemed to seep from her feverish eyes. “He's not that much into kids. He prefers young people, teenagers, you know.” she winked at him, suggestive.

“So he's a paedophile, but not that much of a paedophile?” Charles mocked, deciding to ignore the implications.

She let go of his face only to slap him hard, hard enough to leave deep gouges from the iron on the nails she wore.

“He hates that word!” she screamed, offended. “He just… really loves young people.” The sheer incredulity must have shown on his face, because she just continued. “Anyways, I was collecting these souls so he could play with them when he comes back, you know? I bet he will be in a foul mood, and I just thought 'well what better way to cheer him up than letting him blow off some steam on a couple souls he will find pleasing?’ ' I took great care in ensuring they were innocent, as well. The responses to all the pain and the bit of little pleasure here and there that we can teach them are always the best .” she sighed, dreamy. “And ghosts are so much more resilient! We can play with you and play with you and play with you until you break.” She said, eyes evaluating him up and down. “And then we can start all over again!” she laughed.

Charles puked all over the floor.

"You truly are," he said in disgusted awe " the most despicable person I've ever met. And a few months ago I was at the mercy of a witch that cannibalised little girls. "

“Oh, cannibalism.” she hummed. “That sounds fun, doesn’t it, Ari?” she cooed at her familiar, reaching for the thing. “You have to get me her number.” she said to him.

Charles spat at her. It barely touched her face before she shrieked and sent him crashing to the back of the room. The chains had fallen from the ceiling and onto his torso, burning him terribly.

“And you need to learn some manners." She said as he screamed from the sudden agony. Then she turned her back on him and walked towards the door. "I guess I will just leave you to repeat the cycle until you have had enough."

Charles’ last coherent thought before he was dropped under the thick frozen layer of water of the lake instead of through the ice as always, was that Edwin and he would absolutely need to save those poor spirits.

—-- —-- —--

“That took longer than you said it would.” Crystal said as soon as he stepped through the mirror into the office. “Did the house not let you in?” she asked, remembering how they had just phased through the walls last time.

“The house gave me no problem at all.” Edwin answered, placing the knife on the desk. “It was Monty, actually.” he explained, with a grimace. “I had an encounter with the Cat king,” Crystal’s eyebrow went up “but not much came out of it. He was very insistent about not letting any kind of knowledge leave that witch's house.” He took off his coat and his gloves and, uncharacteristically, threw them onto the couch. It was the only free surface, she supposed. “Which would normally be a good thing, but in these circumstances, I could not abide by it.”

“And did he give you any trouble?” she questioned, sceptical.

“He tried to threaten me, so I just…threatened him back.” Edwin said, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, trying to play it off as unimpressive. Yeah, Crystal was not gonna let that one slide.

“ You threatened the Cat King?” she said, incredulous. “He left you trapped in Port Townsend for weeks!”

“Ah, but I didn't know anything about him back then.” He countered. “And I wasn't dabbling in anything more dangerous than usual. And perhaps the most important thing of all…” Edwin started, leafing through his notes.

“...It was you in danger, not Charles.” Crystal interrupted, finishing the idea.

“Exactly.” He said, pleased that she understood this about him by now.

As they began prepping the materials for this massive ritual, she managed to corroborate that it was far beyond anything they had shown her so far. The ritual seemed so complicated. Beyond the dagger that he had to pick up from the other side of the world, it required them to move every single piece of furniture against the walls, then grabbing the bathroom mirror for a later use.

After that, they placed a bedsheet on the floor, drawing a big circle on it with black chalk, and drew a set of runes inside it, near the centre. Then Edwin grabbed Charles' backpack, and took out a bottle full of a viscous dark liquid. He then lit a dozen candles inside the marked circle, each one in its specific place. A wave of different smells assaulted Crystal’s nose. She supposed that ghosts weren’t bothered by it since they couldn't smell much. She tried very hard not to sneeze.

Edwin retrieved two different cups from a cupboard, one made from silver and one from crystal, and poured the liquid from the bottle inside the silver one. For the other, he took out Esther’s knife from his pocket and sliced his forearm with it. Blood tinted with ectoplasm began to pour inside the empty cup, and once it was three quarters full he removed the wound from it to avoid overspilling. He slid two fingers over the wound and the black smoke that was becoming familiar to Crystal ate up the blood and sealed the wound. Then, he reached for Charles' chain around his neck and took it off. Gently, he let it fall inside the cup that had his blood. He took a big piece of parchment paper, those old ones that you see only in movies, yellowed with age, thick, and coarse to the touch.

With a grimace, he sank his fingers into the first cup. A low hum came from his throat, sounding almost like words but not really. He began writing symbols with the blood onto the parchment. With the other hand, he began tracing the same symbols again, on another blank sheet of parchment, on top of the first one. These symbols were mirrored, and written with his own blood from the second cup. Once he was done, a string of Latin came out of his lips, and the second set of symbols lifted up in the air, glowing golden light, and fused into the first set, on the first sheet of parchment. The other parchment disintegrated as soon as the last trace of blood left the paper.

Edwin let out a breath Crystal hadn't noticed he was holding. Done, he took the parchment, and began ripping it in pieces, keeping each symbol inside its own square of paper, and placed the symbols inside the circle according to the instructions written down by his own hand. The bloody symbols then sank through the paper and sealed themselves to the linen fabric. Edwin waved his hand and all the blank pieces of paper flew from the array. Then he took the necklace from inside the second cup and put it into the first cup.

He took the bathroom mirror, and placed it in the middle of the circle array spell, then took the necklace out of the cup and flicked it in the air where it remained still, frozen in place at about two metres high. The symbols on the bedsheet and the blood on the necklace pulsed with golden energy every couple of heartbeats.

“I need you,” he started to say, very clearly, “to not, for any reason, enter the circle.”

“All right” she said, heart beating like crazy.

“Whatever I ask you to bring me, you will put it inside the circle without touching inside it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Edwin repeated, breathing deep. He knelt beside the foggy mirror on the floor and began writing on it with his finger. At the same time, he spoke up, to keep her in the loop. “Charles? Are you there?”

Charles

are you there?

#fear your sins not your monsters #payneland #painland week #edwin payne #charles rowland #edwin x charles #dead boy detectives #dbda

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shit-talk-turner · 3 days ago

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I asked chatgpt to roast Louise and it is... something. Lmao

Ah, **Louise Verneuil** — the French music darling who’s basically the human embodiment of a moody Instagram filter. She’s got that perfect “I’m too cool to care” vibe, which we *definitely* feel... because, really, who else can wear an oversized sweater, look like they just woke up from a nap on a chaise lounge, and still somehow seem like a walking metaphor for “art”?

Let’s break her down:

1. **"Chanteuse for the Aesthetic, Not the Talent"**

Let’s be real, Louise’s music is less about *music* and more about creating the perfect backdrop for a wine-and-cheese Instagram story. You know, the one where you're sitting by the Seine with a beret on, looking deeply into the distance as if you’ve just invented existentialism. But when you stop for a second to think about the actual *lyrics* or *melodies*... well, let’s just say that if you were hoping for a “musical journey,” you might’ve ended up on a very *comfortable* nap instead.

2. **"The French Audrey Hepburn... in a Loungewear Set"**

Louise is essentially the musical equivalent of *effortlessly* chic. But let’s be honest: her “effortless” vibe has about as much effort behind it as a 1,000-thread count Egyptian cotton sheet. She’s always that person who looks perfect in an oversized trench coat *at the grocery store*—like, we get it, you’re French and you can make laundry day look haute couture. But when your look screams "I woke up like this" but *we know you didn’t*, it gets a little hard to take seriously.

3. **"Lyricism for People Who Don’t Really Listen to the Lyrics"**

We get it, Louise’s lyrics are deep and *mysterious* — but when you try to dig into them, it’s like reading a fortune cookie that tells you to “look within yourself” or “dance with the moon.” She’s that artist who makes you feel like you’re supposed to *feel* something profound, but honestly? The most profound thing about her music is the way it makes you want to order another croissant and call it a day. Sure, her songs sound “pretty,” but what are they really about? Probably the *same thing* every other French artist sings about: existential angst... or maybe just a particularly melancholy baguette.

4. **"The Soundtrack to a Café You’re Not Cool Enough to Enter"**

Louise’s entire vibe is that soundtrack you’d hear if you walked into a small, trendy Parisian café and immediately felt like you didn’t belong. She’s the musical equivalent of a delicate French pastry: delicate, beautiful, but also a little *boring* unless you’re into that level of “I’m too cool for anyone but myself” energy. Honestly, listening to her feels like you're just waiting for her to tell you to “enjoy the ambiance” and “sip your coffee slowly.” But no one is actually there for *your* coffee. They’re just there for the aesthetic.

5. **"Art for People Who Want to Say They're ‘Into Art’ Without Actually Understanding Art"**

You know those people who claim to be into *high art* and love saying things like, “Oh, I adore Louise Verneuil. Her music really speaks to my soul”? They don’t know what they're talking about. Louise’s music is like the “I’ve got my life together” playlist for people who want to look deep while scrolling through their phone. The problem is, once you take off the pretty packaging, it’s just French pop with a side of ‘I’m too cool to try hard.’ You’ll get a lot of “Ooh la la,” a lot of *faux* angst, and a lot of references to Parisian landscapes — but good luck finding anything truly original or groundbreaking. It’s like the musical equivalent of *buying a painting from an art gallery in Montmartre*, just so you can say you’ve “seen the scene.”

6. **"Unwittingly Contributing to the Myth of ‘The Unattainable French Woman’"**

Louise Verneuil is basically *the* French woman myth come to life. You know, the type of woman who’s simultaneously out of reach and totally available at the same time. Her music says “I’m hard to get,” but her PR says, “Buy my album and I’ll tell you my deepest secrets.” She’s the poster child for that stereotype where French women don’t *try* — they just are. But in reality? They’re putting in *more* work than you can imagine to maintain that impossible, seemingly effortless image.

In short, Louise Verneuil is *very* good at curating the perfect “indie French singer” persona. The music is there, sure, but the real magic happens in the way she can turn a simple *cup of coffee* into a symbol of her “effortlessly chic” lifestyle. But let’s be real: if it weren’t for the carefully constructed “vibe,” she’d just be another French pop star singing songs you can play in the background while you pretend to be deep on a rainy day.

Anon, and other anons who have submitted similar posts, no offense, but we aren’t interested in what chat gpt has to say about Louise. We are interested in what YOU have to say if you have something to share!

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radiant-reid · 3 years ago

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All your you

Summary: Spencer struggles to juggle his family-life and work-life after Gideon dies.

Spencer comes home to his wife sleeping on the couch with their baby daughter. Requested by @kaibdbdbbd

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst then fluff)

Content Warning: spoilers and case details of 10x14 | spoilers for 10x13

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

Spencer's whole life had changed drastically in a few months. Not only had Gideon, his mentor and the first person who saw him as more than a kid, died, but he'd been given the gift that was Olive Reid. Some type of metempsychosis.

Y/n knew he would have to grieve, but she also knew he'd be back at the BAU as soon as possible. And he was there, definitely more than he needed to be, always playing chess.

The distance between them seemed to be growing exponentially, but Y/n was used to it with him. As much as she wished he wouldn't, Spencer had always had a tendency to close himself off from the world when he was upset. When all she wanted to do was hug him.

Olive had just woken up, having slept surprisingly late, when Y/n got a text from Spencer.

"Uh oh, it's Daddy." She spoke to the little girl as she held her close to her chest and walked around the apartment.

Spencer had told her a million times about the importance of talking to a baby before Olive was born. It was why Y/n spoke her every word to the 8 week old who wouldn't be able to say anything back for months.

Y/n put her on her back on the playmat, sitting next to her. She handed the little girl a rattle while Olive looked amazed, the same wide brown eyes Spencer had.

Fishing out her phone, Y/n continued to talk to the little girl. "I don't know why he was at work all of last night. He probably fell asleep there, and they got a case, that's my guess, what do you think?" She paused to give Olive a moment to answer. She didn't, but Y/n read through the text. "Oh, it looks like Mommy was right. Well, about going on a case anyway." Spencer's texts were rarely long, but she had been hoping for more of an explanation for his missingness then: The case is in Indianapolis. I'll text you later. I love you both, S xx.

"Sometimes, Daddy frustrates Mommy," Y/n told the infant. "He's so smart, but he does do silly things." Olive cooed back like she understood. "Why don't we go and run some errands? Then we can get a surprise for him." She suggested, purposefully overly depicting her expression.

Spencer knew the case deserved his full attention, but it wasn't easy when he was reeling from Gideon's death and missing the family he was pushing away.

Once he managed to walk away from the bomb under Indiana's latest hero's car, thanks to Morgan's help, Spencer switched his phone back on to see a voice mail from Y/n. A voicemail she must have left when his life was very much in danger.

Spencer had forgotten to turn it back on until it was morning, and he and Morgan were going back to the attempted bombing crime scene. He immediately pressed the phone to his ear, listening to her voice.

"Hey, Spence, I'm just calling because it's late, and I miss you." She sounded sad, something Spencer could always tell. "Olive has just gone back to sleep. I'm watching her right now. She's so pretty, just like you." Even after the 5 years, they'd been together, Spencer always blushed when she complimented him. "She smiled at me all day today, well, yesterday." Spencer could hear her closing the nursery door, no doubt going back to their bedroom to sleep since the message was left at 2 in the morning. "But I guess you're really busy with the case, so I won't make this too long." Her voice got more melancholy that time as well. "We love you, and be safe, please." Spencer sighed, knowing how unsafe he was only a few hours ago.

He had to text her back, but he wasn't sure what he needed to say. I love you both, S xx.

Dropping his phone back into his pocket, Spencer pulled his coat tighter around himself. "Y/n?" Morgan asked, having watched Spencer's face change.

"Uh, yeah, she called me yesterday, but my phone was off," Spencer replied, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

Morgan could sense something was up. "You two good?"

As usual, even though he didn't mean it, Spencer nodded. "Yeah, really good." He hoped it fell on the right side of compensation. Morgan let it go, to Spencer's gratitude. Just a few hours later, they were back on the jet going home.

Spencer was thankful he still felt enthusiastic to get back to DC. He knew that meant he wasn't damaged enough to not be able to go home. He texted Y/n once they took off: I'll be home in two and a half hours tops, S xx.

All but leaping off the jet, Spencer raced home. He was a little bit anxious that she hadn't returned his message, having checked twice that the ringer was on.

It was already 10 at night, so he quietly turned the key and tiptoed into their apartment. Even smelling the familiar scent of the house was enough to make him feel a little better. The sea-breeze scented candle that Spencer had told her of the calming properties on their first date. Like he was maybe finally home.

Spencer placed his bag down on the kitchen island countertop, making his way towards the couch where he saw Y/n sleeping. One of her arms was wrapped around Olive's tiny body, holding the infant tight to her chest. She was dressed in the cutest purple one-piece that made her brown eyes shine.

Before he woke her, he took a moment to lovingly gaze at her. How he got to spend the rest of his life with someone so incredible, he didn't know, but he was grateful. Her soft-looking skin, her slightly parted lips, her hair swept to the side, her eyelashes resting underneath her eyes. She was so perfect, and all his and the mother of their beautiful daughter. He decided that all the bad he went through was worth it for every second he got with them.

It actually made him cry, knowing he'd neglected his role in their lives. The one thing he wanted more than anything in the world. Babies were meant to recognize people who they often saw when they were Olive's age, but Spencer wasn't sure she'd smile at him. Like sand falling through an hourglass, he was letting them both slip further away from him.

Reaching out, he brushed a thumb over her cheek, slightly moving her head to wake her. Before her eyes flickered open, she tightened her arm around Olive protectively.

"Hi, lovely." Spencer softly said while Y/n's refamiliarized herself with her surroundings.

Slightly stretching, she smiled up at him. "Spence." There wasn't anything in her tone but excitement and surprise.

Olive started to squirm, her mother's waking up encouraging her to do the same thing. Spencer picked her up, holding her out in front of him. "Hi, Ollie. I missed you." He cooed, admiring the features that matched her mother. When she smiled at him, Spencer felt his heart soften. He tearfully held her tighter to him. "I'll put her down." He said, glancing down to Y/n, who was smiling at both of them and getting off the couch.

"Come back." Y/n requested, placing a quick kiss on his cheek while stroking a thumb over Olive's light dusting of brown hair.

Spencer bounced the little girl as he made his way toward the nursery. Like she was made of glass, he put the baby down in her bassinet, staring at her for a moment. "I'm sorry." He apologized, his voice breaking. It was the only thing he could think to say before he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. Olive quickly fell asleep, and he turned to switch the baby monitor on.

Gently, he shut the nursery door, walking back to the living room. Y/n was sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island. The curtains were closed, and she'd moved his go-bag. In front of her was a cardboard pizza box, and she nodded to him to sit down.

"Eat something," Y/n instructed, pushing the pizza box in front of him. Spencer obliged, more than hungry. He took a slice and bit into it. She was still watching, admiring, him. "So, how was the case?"

Spencer shrugged, knowing he would never be able to give her a positive answer. If no one died, it was a lifetime of trauma for the victims. "The first bomb killed people, but the unsub was the hero who ran in to help the victims."

"That's a whole nother level of sick," Y/n commented, never not amazed by the disturbing creativity of the unsubs.

In agreement, Spencer nodded. "He wanted to one-up his wife's first husband, which almost got him blown up." He continued. "Luckily, Morgan was there with his bomb squad experience to diffuse it."

"Wait." Y/n wasn't sure she fully understood what he was saying. "You were there with Morgan, the unsub, and a deadly bomb?"

Hesitantly, he nodded, not sure what her reaction would be. "We got there before bomb squad, so we didn't have a choice."

Y/n reached out to touch his shoulder, physical contact he leaned into. "You're so brave."

He frowned at that, not expecting her reaction to be so praising. "I'm so sorry. Sorry I've been so distant and sorry I spent the other night at the BAU."

"I was going to ask about that." Y/n mentioned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Spencer didn't lie that time. "Please."

Y/n nodded, getting up from her seat. Spencer followed suit. Before he could walk off, she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding herself against his chest. He held her just as tight, becoming increasingly aware of the fact his life had been in danger.

"I love you," Y/n told him, and Spencer could feel the added weight in those three words they used every day.

"I love you too," Spencer replied, lightly crying with her head tucked under his chin.

When she pulled away, she tiptoed up to kiss him, taking his hand in hers. "C'mon." She tugged him closer to their bedroom.

After Spencer changed, they got settled on the big swivel sofa chair in their room with a blanket. Facing each other with their legs side by side and hands touching.

"Gideon?" Y/n guessed.

Sighing, Spencer nodded. "I just- I don't k-know what to do." He said, crying heavier. "I hadn't seen him in years, b-but he taught me everything he knew about being a profiler. I was s-sad when he left, but I'm n-not sure I properly, uh, dealt with it, you know?"

"I know." Y/n agreed with him. She was aware he struggled to even name his feelings when they first started dating. "He was so proud of you. I didn't even know him, but I know that."

A soft chuckle came from Spencer. "How?"

"Because I'm so proud of you, and there's no way that anyone who knows you isn't." Y/n firmly replied, stroking her thumb over his knuckles. He smiled a little at that, but she wasn't ready to stop. "No one expects you to be so invulnerable. It's okay to fall apart sometimes." She told him truthfully.

Spencer would never be able to understand how well she knew him. Definitely better than he knew himself, but better than he thought was possible for any one person to know another. It was like she always knew exactly what he needed.

"Thank you," Spencer said softly. "For loving me."

Y/n traced a finger over his cheekbone. "You're not a burden, Spence. You've got to stop treating your feelings like they're going to be too much for me." She assured him, wiping up the few tears he was crying. "I signed up for this." She reminded him, flashing him the back of her left hand where her ring sat. The ring he'd given her that she never took off. "All your messy, all your sad, all your confused, all your angry, all your pain, all your scared, all your worry, all your hurt and all your you."

Leaning forward, Spencer connected their lips passionately, determined to show her his gratitude. "I could never fathom how people could love each other so much before I met you."

"You're my best friend," Y/n informed him, leaning forward to kiss his nose, which made him giggle. She tilted her chin down to kiss his lips slowly. Every kiss felt like their first, leaving both of them with constant butterflies.

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pinkanonwrites · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! How’s your day? May I please have Lilia’s reactions to his old flame (fem, if that’s okay!) coming to work as NRC staff?

This ended up going further in an angst direction that I originally thought it would, but I felt that it fit the prompt best. I hope you still enjoy! Also, this prompt reminded me of a line from the Waitress musical.

“You remind me of a girl I once knew God, by now she's well in middle age Probably 41, 42″ “Huh, thank you?” “What? Oh my God, no, no, no, no”

TW: Not quite full-on angst, but definitely bittersweet!

There were a million different things you could have expected when you’d been accepted as a staff member for Night Raven College. At an elite school like NRC, you’d be dealing with some of Wonderland’s next political leaders, accomplished wizards, and cultural influencers to define the next generation. You had to be prepared for anything. You thought you were prepared for anything.

But you couldn’t have been prepared for Lilia Vanrouge. Not again.

“Little birdie...?” The old nickname hit you somewhere deep, somewhere fragile. Great Seven, his voice sounded exactly the same, though the tone wasn’t quite right. You had heard it a thousand times over in his sweet, playful chirp. This surprised, almost disbelieving tone didn’t suit him.

You swallowed hard, trying your best to pull the words together. “Lilia. It’s good to see you. How long has it been? Twentyish years?”

“Eighteen years and four months. But who’s counting?”

That got a giggle out of you despite your better efforts, and Lilia’s eyes lit up in an all-too-familiar glint of pride. Your classroom was thankfully devoid of other students since you hadn’t quite finished setting up, so Lilia was free to let himself in, closing the door behind him and perching himself atop one of the student desks. He was uncharacteristically silent for a long moment, before...

“You look good. More mature. It suits you, I think.”

“You look... You look the same, Lils.” You gave a soft, sad smile, your eyes still trained down on the box of desk tchotchkes and trinkets you had yet to organize. “Though I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

“It takes work to look this good for a few hundred years, you know!” He joked, but the delivery wasn’t quite there. There was an unspoken tension, a hint of melancholy in his voice. “You finally became a teacher! That’s pretty incredible, birdie. And at the best school this side of the valley.”

“It was worth the effort, really. How about yourself? Still tending to Malleus?”

“Of course. He’s here too, you know! And... I adopted a human kid, a bit after we... His name’s Silver! I think you’d like him.”

“I bet I would, if he’s anything like you.”

“Oh, he’s nothing like me! You’d like him anyway, though. He’s a good kid.”

You laughed again, and with each exchanged sentence Lilia seemed to get more and more bright, more at ease. The two of you talked for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have possibly been more than one. It surprised you how easy it was to let yourself be pulled back into Lilia Vanrouge’s orbit. Despite how much you’d changed, and how much he hadn’t, it reminded you all too well of those many years ago.

“Soooo, got anyone special in your life right now?” Straight to the point as always. But that was something you’d liked about him. “Another little birdie?”

“No, no not at the moment. I’ve been a bit too busy for the romance department.”

“A shame, really. Any man would be lucky to have you. Man... or fae.”

“Lilia.” And there it was. The elephant in the room, finally acknowledged. As he moved off of the table and began walking towards you a deep, longing pool in the pit of your stomach fought against your better instincts. Brain against heart. A battle you’d been fighting for the last eighteen years.

“Was there anything I could’ve done?” He finally asked, voice even and gentle.

“I...I don’t think so. I just... I needed to grow up, Lilia. I didn’t know who I was then, and I needed to find that out on my own.”

“And now? Do you know who you are now?”

“I... I’m not sure.”

The silence permeated the room again, somber and fragile. Lilia stood beside you at your desk, his hands resting on the wooden surface close to yours but not quite touching, not yet.

“Well, if you ever decide you need help figuring out, now you know where to find me!” He smiled at you, sharp fangs poking over his lower lip. “I did miss you, you know.”

“Lils, I’m literally your teacher now.”

“Aww, what’s a little abuse of power between old friends?”

“You’re the worst!” You giggled, covering your face with your hands so Lilia couldn’t see you laughing. As a long moment of the two of you chuckling away began to die, you finally removed your hands and spoke softly. “I missed you too. Even if it was my idea, I missed you so much.”

“Then, why can’t we...?”

“But like I said, I’m your teacher now. Even if you are a hundred years older than me, it’s still not appropriate.”

“How about five hundred years?”

“Lilia!”

“Okay! Okay! I can’t say I don’t understand. Things like that mean a lot more to humans than they do fae, after all.” He sighed softly, smile fading from his face into a more neutral, almost distant expression. “But whatever you choose, I’ll respect it.”

“...It really is good to see you again, Lilia.”

“You too, birdie. You too.”

“And maybe, maybe, when you’re not taking my literature classes any more... Maybe we can talk again.”

You couldn’t miss the way Lilia’s entire body seemed to perk up, ears twitching playfully as the smile returned to his face as a bright, satisfied beam.

“So, another two years then? Hah! That’s nothing.” Finally one of his pale hands came to rest upon your own. Though your hands looked so different than they did back then, the image was just as comforting.

“I’ll wait for you, birdie. As long as you need.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #lilia vanrouge #lilia imagines #lilia x reader #twst scenarios

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strayed-quokka · 2 years ago

Text

his last song || pt 6 || hwang hyunjin

» summary: it was your last year wherein a stroke of luck determined whether or not you could be sent to your likely death. and of course, the last year is when fate tries to play the cruellest game. for not only is it you, but your best friend’s name is caught in the hands of the woman selecting who’s to face their death. and not only that, but a certain career has his eyes set on you, and you doubt that’s a good thing.

» pairing: career hyunjin x district 10 reader ft. district 10 jisung & mentor minho (platonically)

» rating: 16+ for depictions of violence

» genre: hunger games au, fluff, angst, weak enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, unrequited love

» warnings: mentions of violence, reader and jisung breakdown, minho is moody still (more than before), hyunjin keeps threatening reader with death, alcohol consumption

» words: 4,699

» previous chapter

» a/n: i have no excuse for why this took so long other than i’ve been doing really badly mentally. i’m really sorry. also this chapter tugs at my heartstrings so brace yourselves lmao... next chapter we finally move on to... well... the actual damn arena. only took 7 chapters (originally i only wanted it to take 5 chapters but i wanted to establish relationships between characters and that apparently took like... 50+ pages in my documents).

You were one step closer to your death. The thought wasn’t a peaceful one. It was turbulent, a chaotic melancholy tearing you apart every day as your heart wanted to give in to defeat. Yet you refused to let it. There was nothing you could change about what you’d already done, so you did your best to make peace with whatever results you may get from the gamemaker’s.

If they’d wanted to punish you in death before the games, they would’ve done so by now. You could breathe.

“I say a six. Maybe Jisung will push a seven. Right?” Minho looks between you both, Daehyeon on the couch with his sketchbook again and Seokhwa half asleep beside him. He looked gloomier today, or maybe he was just tired. You suppose you didn’t look much better, maybe even worse.

Who were you kidding, you definitely looked worse next to someone as elegant as him.

“I can never tell if you’re complimenting us or insulting us.”

“It’s a bit of both,” comes Daehyeon’s reply to Jisung, just as Ceasar appears on the TV, ready to give out the scores.

“What do you think you’ll get?” Jisung whispers to you, hand on your knee to stop it from shaking up and down as you sit there. If you’re entirely honest, you have no idea what score you may get. All you presented to the gamemaker’s was a recklessness that could either be admired or hated. You didn’t see a grey area in how this could go.

“Maybe… four?” though it’s more a question than an answer.

“No, I’d guess a seven for her, maybe eight,” Seokhwa speaks up, now laying in his blue haired friends lap to rest whilst staring at the screen that is going through the district one career, a male who’s incredibly muscular and from what you remember when seeing him train, incredibly strong.

“That’s generous. Especially from you,” Minho replies, finally taking his own seat.

“Yeah,” Seokhwa looks at you then, a small smile on his lips as if he knows something more, “but I think she manages better than you think.”

There’s a lull, a short break in where no one speaks, if just from sheer surprise that he seems to think far more highly of you than even you would’ve expected.

“How do you know what I think?” Minho’s eyes are colder, less impressed but the young man with peach coloured hair isn’t phased. Minho can’t intimidate him, at least you don’t think he can, and it’s something you wish you could mirror.

“Don’t underestimate someone simply because you think they’re weaker than you,” he sits up, back straight as he looks at your mentor dead in the eye, “it may be your greatest mistake if you do.”

“A ten,” everyone’s attention moves from the two men in the room towards the TV, seeing Hyunjin with his score. It’s incredibly high, usually as high as it goes and whilst it’s a result that proves he’s someone you should stay clear from, it also makes you want to ask what he’d done to earn it.

“Wonder what he did,” Jisung takes the words right from you, and then the waiting game begins. Minho is writing something down, you presume the scores and making mental notes of odds and tactics, and maybe you should rush to do the same. He’s not the one playing, yet out of everyone in the room, he behaves as if he is the most.

“He scored higher than I would’ve thought,” it’s Daehyeon now, referring to district 5’s male, maybe your age with incredibly sweet features. Jaemin.

“If you’re going to pair up into groups, he’s a good bet. Doesn’t get on with his district partner so he’s likely traveling alone.”

“But what if he just wants to kill us?” Jisung asks, a probable scenario that both of you are thinking about.

“It’s two to one. He’s an interesting one. Not the weakest but not the strongest. I’d take my chances with him. Even if it’s just to save your own life.”

“You want them to throw this boy to the wolves?” Daehyeon asks, and whilst he sounds unimpressed, he doesn’t look it as much. Like Minho, it doesn’t really bother him, and for just a moment you wonder what emotions Daehyeon portrays are real and what may all be pretend.

Maybe he fit the capital far better than you’d ever want to admit, given that you really liked him as a person.

“If it means it’s not them, yeah,” Minho says it so casually, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world to you, and all you come up with is the exact response he wants, but nearly didn’t expect.

“Okay.”

“Y/N!” Jisung hits your shoulder, forcing you to look at him, and he’s disappointed. Not because he doesn’t understand why, but because he doesn’t want you to risk anything stupid.

Little did he know you’d already risked a lot.

“Han Jisung,” all of you stare at the screen again, Nerium walking into the room as if she’d timed it perfectly, and you briefly acknowledge her presence, “an eight.”

There’s cheering, mostly from Seokhwa and Daehyeon who both stand and pull Jisung up with them, hugging him tight while Minho stares blankly ahead. There’s a smile on your face as they make space to invite you into the hug, and you let yourself get dragged into something warm and comfortable, you never want to let go of any of them.

Maybe it’s absurd, to nearly see Seokhwa and Daehyeon as your friends. It had only been a few days, but emotions were heightened in the face of death, and if Minho wasn’t going to congratulate either of you, at least they were ensuring that you knew someone was proud.

“Better than expected,” Daehyeon ruffles his hair, awfully cheerful until Seokhwa shoves him away.

“Hey! I have to fix that,” your vision blurs to them, fixated on Minho now. He doesn’t say anything. All he does is write something down, but you see how his hand is shaking. He’s not focusing and a sorrow breaks through him that he can’t hide. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t cry, for you know Minho isn’t one for emotion, but you can also tell that he likely would be if he was alone.

“A nine,” Seokhwa jumps up on the couch, absolutely elated and cheering, and it takes a while for you to notice that they’d been talking about you. It was you who’d gotten that score, and suddenly you’re being tackled on the couch by the same people who’d been hugging you for Jisung’s points seconds ago.

“Let’s open some champagne!” Seokhwa cries out in glee, and even Nerium seems to agree from where she’s standing.

Though as elated and disbelieving as you are from the high of your score, it’s all torn out from under you when Minho slams his notes down and walks away, a slam of a door heard not long after that’s so loud, you feel the floor shake in response.

“Ignore him,” Jisung whispers, moving a strand of hair behind your ear and it makes you tremble. It should be easy to ignore, to pretend it doesn’t bother you. That what Minho thinks doesn’t actually matter. But to you it does. As impolite as he could be, you did look up to him. He’d won the games. He knew how to play.

You were letting him down. And it was incredibly hard to just let that go.

“So, we just have to befriend someone two days before we’re sent into a deadly arena where that same person has to kill us. You know, sometimes I really don’t know what Minho is thinking-”

“He’s thinking of how to survive. He wouldn’t have without Hyunjin’s sister. Maybe he thinks we won’t without someone either.”

Jisung sighs, standing quiet as the two of you take the elevator down to the training center. There was an odd tension between you now, maybe because your approach to the situation at hand was very different, but you weren’t about to bring it up. If you caused a fight just a few days before the games, your odds would lower considerably.

“How do you want to approach him?”

“I say watch him first. See what he does, if he’s working on his own or with someone. Feel it out. Then approach him.” you nod, stepping out into the hallway with your best friend right behind you.

“I might try climbing today. I’ve seen Hyunjin do it a lot.”

“Why do you care what Hyunjin does?” Jisung is immediately on alert and it bothers you instantly, though you knew it was completely justifiable. Hyunjin was dangerous to you both. He’d continue to be so. You having a few conversations with him, no matter how civil, wouldn’t change that.

“I don’t. But knowing how to climb may be useful.”

“Alright how about this. We just keep an eye on him today. See what he does. Maybe I’ll approach him after a few hours. We just can’t force it or draw any suspicion.”

“Why don’t you ask him to partner with you for a round on the mats. You know, fight it out?”

“That’s… actually kinda genius,” Jisung admits, for it would make sense. Partnering up with tributes to fight one on one wasn’t unheard of or very unusual.

When you arrive, the two of you separate and you immediately look up at the ceiling, seeing the fabric that would hold you up and away from the ground. It doesn’t look that secure, but if it can hold Hyunjin, it should hold you fine.

You just wondered where the hell he even climbed up.

You wander around, seeing what some of the tributes are up to, and you realise that it’s the first time you really pay attention to them. Maybe you should’ve been studying their movements ages ago.

“You know, you’re so obvious. It’s almost pathetic,” you hear his voice, know it already within just a few days, but you don’t see him anywhere. He’s not behind you, nor is he in front of you or next to you, and it’s only when you hear him laugh that you decide to lift your head up.

He’s grinning, almost manically as his feet rest on the fabric beneath him, his one hand holding what you think is the very knife you used just yesterday to make a point, the other holding himself steady by gripping onto the ropes by his shoes.

You decide to ignore him, something that doesn’t bode well with him, and it’s scary to realise how quickly he moves up there without falling, for he’s back in front of you in seconds, hanging upside down as he sends you a mocking wave in greeting.

“I must say, one point off from me sweetheart, I nearly fell in love,” he lifts himself up, twisting his body around before jumping down and onto the ground, right before you, “wonder why they decided that.”

“Why don’t you ask them?” It’s humorous to you, how thinking about him when he’s not there always has you curious to speak to him again, yet whenever he’s around, you yearn to get away from him.

“Hmm, don’t think I will,” you go to walk away, wondering where the hell Jisung went when you separated (though you think he’s conveniently or inconveniently behind the wall that you’re standing by), but the threat of a knife to your collarbone stops you, “at least tell me if this whole act is a game or really what you’re like.”

He leans against the wall, retracting the knife as you stare at him, unsure of how to answer. Maybe you weren’t physically the strongest and mentally you were being thrown left and right, but something in his words pisses you off. Yet just as you go to speak, he interrupts again, “I just don’t understand how you went from such an easy kill to something to chase, sweetheart.”

What scares you most about Hyunjin, you realise, isn’t in his appearance, nor in the way he’s able to so easily sneak up on just about anyone. It’s in his words, the threats and taunts, but it’s also in his confidence to really end your life, his nonchalance to it and that he simply doesn’t care. At least he doesn’t seem to. But you don’t want him to know truly how uneasy it makes you.

So you ask him something that he’d never expected.

“Do you want to train with me?”

It shocks you both, the simplicity of the question and what it means. It’s the only time you expect to ever see him rendered speechless in the little time you’ll know him.

You don’t like the guilt that comes with that. Though if you were to ensure Jisung comes home, it meant dying. So you assume that the loss of Hyunjin wouldn’t be remembered by you anyway if you were six feet under.

“What do you suggest we do, princess?”

“That sounds horribly condescending.”

“My bad, I’ll improve my manners in your last few days,” how considerate you think, though you still shiver at the thought. Twenty three people were living out their last days in the room you were in.

“I want to climb.”

“Do you know how?”

“No. But I know you do,” he sighs, though he must admit that something about you amuses him more than it frustrates him. Sure, to him you were a weakness and he didn’t care much for your survival, but unlike the first day he’d seen you, now he was more curious.

There was something else to you. If anything, he believed that if you were pushed into a corner just enough, that you’d snap into something that might actually become a threat to at least some of the tributes around him.

“Alright, I’ll show you how to climb. I’ll show you whatever you want. But I want something from you,” you nearly scoff, but instead you look away, arms crossed until he grabs your chin with his hand, and suddenly you’re staring right into his eyes.

They’re the darkest shade of brown you’ve seen and yet whilst many claim that eyes are the window into the very being you’re looking at, his tell you absolutely nothing. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, yet you feel like he can tell everything about you from simply staring back.

“When I eventually come after you…” he leans closer, so close that he’s right in your space. He’s warm and there’s a hint of cologne that lingers, and if he wasn’t gripping your chin so tight, you’d fight harder to look away, “put what I taught you to use. Don’t make it easy for me.”

And for the first time, his threats don’t scare you the way they should. His promise of your death doesn’t make you want to crumble to the floor. It’s the first time that you feel a fire light within you, and you smile at him, “don’t worry, I don’t plan to.”

“Oh c’mon, you’re not even up there yet!” his annoyance captures the attention of other tributes, though one look in their direction and most of them turn away again. It nearly makes you laugh, the way his arms are on his hips and he’s huffing in frustration similarly to how Jisung would pout at you when you’d say something absurd.

“It’s harder than I thought!” you retaliate, mustering up the strength you have in your upper body to lift it up and finally push your knees up onto the fabrics of black rope to crawl across.

“You don’t have that type of time when someone’s on your tail,” he sounds like Minho. Hell, when you really think about it, the two share a lot of attributes alike. The difference in them was that whilst Minho’s attitude towards you came from a will to keep you alive, Hyunjin was the opposite. At least that’s what you’d assumed.

“I’ll go again.”

“You just got up there,” but you’re already halfway down, and Hyunjin comes up beside you, “alright, we both climb up. See how much slower you are.”

You huff, looking up at the wall you need to climb again, and maybe you should’ve listened and just stayed up there.

“You better have a very good explanation for this one, Y/N,” it’s Jisung, a frown on his features and you know how unhappy he is. Nothing in you blames him for it either, but right now, you only see the benefits of learning how to use the strength you have.

“Ah, the so called best friend, you wanna join?”

“No, I don’t,” he’s staring right at you, ignoring Hyunjin entirely, “I’ve been looking for you. Do you remember what we talked about? Have you done any of it?”

His sudden anger takes you aback. The two of you had disagreements before, but never did he approach you with such hostility. It was another reminder that the games were taking away qualities that made you and Jisung uniquely yourselves. It hadn’t even started, yet both of you had already lost the playful nature in which you’d interacted with just days before.

“I… no. I haven’t.”

“Right, I wonder why,” his words are bitter, venomous both to you and the man behind you, and it’s the first moment you truly think that something broke between the two of you.

“Ji, it’s not what you-”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear anything from you right now. You want to fucking die, go ahead.”

“Hey, that’s just unnecessary,” Hyunjin leaping to your defence is unexpected, but you welcome it. For right now, you don’t have anything else you can say. You feel guilty, yet you’re not sure you’ve done anything wrong either as you watch Jisung push past you both without a second glance, “yikes, trouble in paradise?”

“Just… not now. Okay?” you hide the way your voice shakes, the way you blink back your tears, but the career next to you is so annoyingly observant that nothing slips past him. He knows how it hurts you, and whilst it’s to his advantage that you’re breaking down, it still bothers him.

“Alright,” he agrees, standing up straight, “but don’t cry. I don’t need to see that again.”

He moves further away, a good five meters away from you, “I’ll give you a head start. Not a big one but it’ll give you something.”

For a very small moment, you’re grateful that he ignores the pain you’re in. And you’re grateful he’s not using it to mock you. He’s pretending it doesn’t exist, and so you try to do the same.

“Ready… 3… 2… 1… go!”

“Alright, neither of you idiots are at the dinner table. Minho isn’t at the table. Nerium is insufferable to listen to and-”

“Hwa,” it’s strange, to not hear his full name leave your lips, and he can’t decide if he likes it or hates it yet, given that the way you speak it is so horribly depressing.

“Do you want Daehyeon instead?”

“Cause I’m here,” he comes up behind Seokhwa, making you chuckle as the two approach you quietly.

“Can I sit?” Daehyeon asks, and you nod whilst Seokhwa takes a seat on the floor before you, “consider yourself royalty. I’ve never seen Seokhwa get on the floor for anyone.”

“It’s true. I’m only doing it because I know the cleaners were here earlier,” you laugh quietly, staring at your fingers. It’s silent, none of you saying a word.

“Shouldn’t one of you check on Jisung?”

“Don’t worry, he’s next on the list of patients,” you’re so very grateful for how they make you smile, but you also know that they’re worried and likely wondering why everyone seems to be furthest away from each other.

“So, why did you two argue?”

“How did you know that?” Seokhwa scoffs, placing his hands on your knees as he rests his chin on one of his knuckles.

“Please, it’s not that hard to figure out.”

“You don’t have to act like such a smartass all the time, you know,” Daehyeon intervenes, crossing his legs over each other to make himself more comfortable.

“Don’t be mean to him,” you tease your stylist, earning you a playful glare that eventually breaks into a beautiful smile.

“I doubt it can be that bad-”

“I’ve been talking to Hyunjin…” you interrupt Daehyeon, awaiting their response. Actually, you wait for them to yell at you, to tell you how incredibly stupid you’re being or that whatever happened, Jisung is entirely in the right. You wait for them to tell you that they’re completely on his side.

But none of that happens. You’re not sure if that’s better or worse. If them saying nothing is their silent disappointment in you, and suddenly you want to make excuses to justify it.

“We kinda knew,” Daehyeon starts, “at least we figured when he was here yesterday.”

“You saw him?”

“Saw, overheard. All the same. When I heard about what you did with the gamekeepers, I had to make sure Seokhwa wouldn’t start laughing and give us away.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of anyone in my life,” Seokhwa laughs, and it makes your heart flutter and gives you the reassurance you need that you can tell them the rest.

“I trained with Hyunjin too,” you start, as if it’s also shameful and something meant to be hidden, “he’s good at climbing. I figured I’d give it a shot and ask if he could show me. I actually… I did alright, you know? Took a few hours but...”

Hyunjin himself had seemed awfully proud, despite getting up quicker than you even with your head start. Once the two of you were up there, you fell into a rhythm of conversation as he helped you manoeuvre around. He reluctantly showed you how to observe, told you what to look for in all the tributes below whilst purposely leaving out just enough to not tell you all that he knew, and it had almost made you forget that Jisung and you were breaking down. You only really remembered when you saw Jaemin from afar.

“I know Jisung is probably just worried. I mean… I know Hyunjin wants to kill me. I know he will.”

“Don’t say that-”

“But it’s true. Daehyeon, I’m not stupid. He’s targeted me and I know it. Of course I do. There’s nothing left for me to lose though, aside from my best friend. So if I can learn something, anything, that’ll help me get Jisung home then… why the hell not? Why not learn it from him?”

There’s a hand on your back, rubbing soothing patterns whilst Seokhwa is looking up at you with a frown, making himself look even more youthful and innocent than he already was. It makes you want to cry again, wondering about the last time you’ll see all of them.

When will you last see Minho give you a snarky insult about the games? When is the last time Daehyeon will give you something to wear? When will Seokhwa see you for the last time with such an innocence that holds so much strength and attitude in someone so young?

And when will you last see Jisung?

“Hey, hey… listen… you just have to talk to him. Just tell him exactly that. He may not like it, but I doubt he won’t understand. He loves you a lot more than I think you know. This isn’t something that’ll change anything.”

“Seokhwa’s right. Talk to him.”

“Also saves me from having to walk into another depressing situation,” Seokhwa sighs, but you know his words aren’t actually meant. If anything, you think he’d do it over and over again, oversee you both until you feel better.

“We still have Minho to talk to though,” Daehyeon adds while you rest against him, thoughts of your best friend clouding your mind.

“Right,” the man before you stands up, readjusting his incredibly elegant dress shirt, “make sure to grab some food okay? You really need it.”

You knock on Jisung’s door with two full plates of food, desperately hoping he’ll answer but not hearing anything. So you dare to glance inside, seeing his figure sat on the balcony in one of the chairs, staring straight ahead, looking like the entire world is weighing him down.

“Ji?” you step outside, but he only acknowledges your presence by moving his head to show that he heard you, “I brought you food.”

You put it on the table next to him, placing your own plate on the ground as you sit, choosing to be right across from him rather than next to him on the other free chair.

“Why are you really here?” He’s seen right through you, you suppose. Jisung knows better than to think that’s all you came for.

“I’m here because I love you. You’re my best friend. And I don’t want to go into this thinking you hate me-”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I know you’re worried. I’m worried. I’m sorry I didn’t look for Jaemin like we said. And I’m sorry that I’ve been speaking to Hyunjin-”

“Y/N,” you stop, looking up at him slowly. His eyes are sad, but what worries you more is how they seem to just… want to give up, “if you want to talk to Hyunjin, I can’t say anything. I don’t like it, but I don’t choose it. I’m just… I’m so scared.”

Jisung lifts his knees up to his chest, making himself even smaller than he’d seemed sat out here alone, and you feel horrible, “I’m so scared for you. I don’t care if I die. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I don’t care if it means you live. But I see him and I just… I know the danger you’re in and that I’m entirely helpless to do anything about it. And that scares me so fucking much that I can’t… I can’t do it. I can’t fucking go through this with you!”

You don’t know what to say. All you can do is cry with him, pulling him down into your arms while you both crumble, and he’s gripping you so tight that in this moment, you’re so afraid of ever letting him go.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs weakly against you, for he knows that really, you have nothing to apologise for. It’s everyone else around you, it’s the reaping that drew your name and then drew him right after. It’s the fact that you can’t keep your promise to each other of being the victor for it meant losing the other.

“I was angry because I… I’m trying so hard to keep you alive. I watched Jaemin constantly. What he does, how he works. I spoke to him. You just threw that away. I listen to so much of Minho’s heartless bullshit because it may actually mean you have a shot. And I just… when I saw Hyunjin it just felt like I was doing it for nothing.”

“I understand. I didn’t… to be honest, I didn’t think of it like that at all,” though it was cruel and ironic, that everything you’d been doing and trying to learn was for Jisung, and everything he’d been doing was for you.

“Y/N… I’m so afraid,” it breaks your heart to hear him admit it, making fresh tears fall down your cheeks and onto his shoulder. You wish so bad to run away, but that meant even more certain death than the hunger games themselves.

“I know. Me too, Ji. I’m terrified,” he moves his head back, resting his forehead against yours as he lets out a trembling breath of air.

“It’s just two more days,” though you already know that. You’ve been counting the days yourself, the minute you’re lifted up and watched by all the districts as you hope to survive.

The minute that you and Jisung are meant to become enemies.

Until the inevitable minute that one of you loses the other.

|| masterlist ||

any comments or feedback please let me know cause also idk how i feel with some of this chapter but it’s been dusting away for two months so... 💜 also like... i don’t wanna pull a twilight on this but like... are people team jisung or hyunjin? also don’t ask me why i decided to put na jaemin through this i adore him so like... idk why i hurt myself like this...

taglist: @crispy-chan, @hyunjinspark, @geniejunn, @she-wintersoldat, @a-person-with-void, aletacroker

next chapter

#skz hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #skz han #straykidsland #series #hunger games au #skz minho #skz felix #wei daehyeon #wei seokhwa #nct jaemin

59 notes · View notes

idy-ll-ique · 4 years ago

Text

My Little Secret.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Innocent!F!Reader

Genre : Fluff, little bit of Angst

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

Summary: Y/N listens to music 24/7 on Spotify. At first Ransom is irritated, but now he knows just how to use the application to his benefit. I mean, come on, it can't be considered stalking if it's his wife, right?

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! oml a ransom drysdale fanfiction 😳 if I ever meet this asshole in real life I'd sock him in the jaw but in fiction? mamma mia. enjoy!

---

Does she really love an app more than me?

Ransom scoffed to himself as he opened his laptop, clicking on the music app, Spotify. He rarely used it, but his wife was obsessed with it. She listened to music 24/7; singing along to the soft tunes in her playlists while working, reading, cleaning, cooking, anything. Ransom thought it was insane how submerged she was in the activity.

Until that activity gave him an upper-hand in their relationship.

When he had first opened the app on his laptop, he was a tad bit surprised at the "Friends Activity" feature. He saw her account. Then, as more months passed, he started noticing how when she was happy, she'd always be listening to some happy playlist, when she was sad she'd be listening to sad songs, et cetera. And he started using it to his advantage.

Now, everyday before leaving his office he'd check the app to see what playlist she was listening to. If it was a happy, dance playlist, well and fine. But a sad one? Ransom's mood would also sour because my darling is not feeling okay. While going home, he'd buy something for her; mostly flowers or chocolates, or a nice little trinket that he'd find in the displays of shops that he thought his wife would enjoy.

He never told her about it. What he was doing would be considered stalking but come on, is it stalking if she's your wife? As the app finally loaded, his eyes immediately strayed to the Friends Activity and his heart clenched when he saw her listening to her sad playlist that she had named Melancholy. Sighing, he turned off the laptop and left his office for the night.

As he drove back home, he stopped outside a flower shop and bought an adorable little bouquet of mixed flowers. "She'll love it," the florist assured him, assuming he was buying it for his significant other. He gave her a quick smile and got back into the car, driving home as fast as he could. When he reached home, his heart broke at the sniffle he heard.

"Kitten?" Y/N's head shot up at her husband's voice as she hurriedly wiped her tears, getting up from her spot on the couch. "Hi, welcome home," she whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips, smiling widely to avoid being caught. "Hello, how was your day?" He wanted to sigh, to chide her for keeping her bad mood from him, but he only smiled at how cute she looked trying to hide her true feelings.

"It wasn't bad! So, shower first and dinner later or dinner first?"

Now was the time. "Kitten, the truth, please. How was your day?" He raised a stern eyebrow when her face fell. How does he always read me so well? Knowing she couldn't hide now, she hung her head low as her shoulders sagged. "It was bad," she muttered. Ransom pulled her close, her head resting on his chest, his chin atop her head. "What happened? I swear if it's those fucking coworkers of yours—"

Her silence gave him the answer. The thing is, when Ransom and Y/N had started going out, everyone in the city was shocked. A cute, innocent little thing like her dating an asshole like him? Why? She had lost quite a few friends when she told them, but Ransom was there for her. "You don't need them, you have me." He was right. While the world saw him as a first-class jerk, he was the softest soul with her.

Her priorities were always placed before his. He took care of her, treated her like no previous boyfriend of hers had, and within 2 years of dating, he had proposed. People were even more shocked. She managed to get him to settle down?! How?! Then the gossip began. "He has to be cheating, I mean look at him. Look at her," she had heard one time after the engagement. That had made her super upset.

"Ransom, they're talking… someone said you were cheating on me…" She had broken down on his chest that night, crying her eyes out. And Ransom had immediately switched off the television. He sat up, holding her close. "You know I'd never do that, angel. Why would I, when you're with me? Do you really think those women out there have the same effect on me that you do? Huh?"

"Well, they said… they said I was ugly."

"What?! Those fucking whores—"

"Ransom, don't call them that," she had chided, swatting his chest. He caught the hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each fingertip. "If it makes you feel better, no, I'm not cheating on you. I love you a little too much to do that. You mean the world to me, Y/N, there's no one on this planet I'd rather be with than you. And you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, in and out," he told her sincerely.

Her crying ceased. "Thank you." And he held her close the entire night, rubbing her back as she slept on him. People talking about him? He could handle that, God knows he had been handling that for years. But them talking about her? His perfect, angelic, goddess-like fiancée? No, no, he wouldn't handle that. That whole thing was 4 years ago. People still talked.

"What did they say to you, Y/N?" he asked, coming back to the real world.

"They asked me why I was still with you." He exhaled loudly through his nose when Y/N's arms tightened around him. "I told them I loved you. You are nice, you're not what everyone says you are. But then Amy talked about… about how you used to be— what was the word she used? Oh, uh, yeah, she said you were something of a Casanova before you met me. But I told her that was over."

His arms snaked around her waist, his fingers gently dancing over her hips as she continued speaking. "She insisted that people can't just change over a small period of time. I tried ignoring her but then she started gossiping with someone else about you. And then I snapped at her. But you know me…" Ransom hummed, pressing his lips to her forehead.

His wife had a docile soul. Everything from her looks to her mannerisms was soft. She couldn't yell, she couldn't tell people off— she was too pure to do that. The world needed people like her, to be honest. That was also one of the things he liked about her. Sometimes, he thought about how beneficial it would be for her to hold her own in a fight, but his ego shoved the thought down each time.

He liked being her big protector. He loved taking care of her like that. "Yes, I know, angel. You're too good for this world, you know that?" he mumbled, slightly pulling away from her so he could cup her face, looking into her eyes. She huffed and looked away. "I'm too soft. I can't help it. I don't want to be this way." He chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. "Oh no, you should definitely be this way."

"Why?"

"Because it suits you. Don't change for people who don't even care about you. I like you like this; gentle, caring… you have the biggest heart in the world, Y/N. And I want to keep it that way. Don't let people ruin your innocence. Keep being you." He pressed her closer when she started sniffling again. "You're too good to me," she pouted and he laughed. "That's my duty as your husband, kitten. Look, I bought flowers."

He took out the bouquet from his bag, smiling when Y/N's eager hands accepted it. "Thank you! Oh, these are so beautiful! Let me replace the flowers in the vase on the dining table!" Squealing, she walked away from him, leaving him to stare after her with an infatuated smile. You have no idea what you do to me, angel.

---

"Night, Ran," Y/N yawned, keeping her phone away. He held his arm up and Y/N snuggled into his side, allowing him to wrap his arm around her side. "Night, sweetheart," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her nose. He watched TV for some time until the match got boring; then he switched it off and carefully lay down on the bed, about to doze off when Y/N's phone rang. He blinked. Who'd be calling at his hour?

He lifted the phone off the nightstand, grimacing when he saw the Caller ID. Amy. As soon as he picked the phone up, Amy started blabbering. "Hi! Sorry I'm calling so late, Y/N, but I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you at work today. It was wrong of me, really, I hope you can forgive me!" Ransom stayed silent, his jaw clenched. He had been hearing that line for years.

"Ransom, it's okay, she apologized, she won't be doing it again. She told me so herself!"

It was never the last time.

"Are you done?" he snapped and Amy froze on the other side. "M-Mr Drysdale—" "Listen, I don't want to hear it. I'm not Y/N; she has a heart of gold, God, I wonder why I let her hang out with people whose hearts are made of pure shit. How many times have you apologized for the same thing, huh? Using my girl's pure heart to your fucking advantage like that?"

"You're being—"

"I'm being what? I'm being rude? Who started it? If you ever mention our marriage in front of Y/N again, I'll have your fucking head." Amy bristled on the other side. "Are you threatening me?" Ransom smirked. "If you don't want to be threatened, I suggest you keep your nose out of other people's business. What mine and Y/N's relationship is like is no one's concern."

Amy stayed silent. "Gossiping won't get you anywhere. I have the best lawyers in the city, and I swear, if Y/N comes crying to me one more time about how someone was rude to her, I'll sue. Trust me, I will take legal action. Is that understood?" Amy quaked at his menacing tone. "Y-Yes, sir." Ransom's lips curled into a devious smile. "Great." And he ended the call.

"Ransom, who was that?" Y/N sleepily murmured next to him. She hadn't heard a word of the conversation, but could tell he was on the phone. "No one you need to worry about, sweetheart, go to sleep. I'm here." He lay down next to her, pulling her close. "You know, I have a question." He nodded at her to go on. "How do you always know when I'm going to be in a bad mood?"

"What do you mean?" he smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. "I mean, I have been wondering for years! Everytime I happen to be in a bad mood, you bring home a gift. It's like— it's like you can read my mind! How?! It can't be a coincidence, it has happened a lot of times for it to be a coincidence," she rambled and Ransom's heart fluttered at how innocent and adorable she looked.

"I have my ways," he teased, lightly poking her nose. "You're not gonna tell me, are you?" she pouted and he couldn't help but lean forward, pressing his lips to hers. "Nope, just so I can keep surprising you." She giggled, snuggling further into his arms until her face was pressed into his bare chest. "I love you so much, Ransom," she whispered. "I love you more, my sweet little angel."

Both of them went to sleep with giddy smiles on their faces.

Oh, and the Spotify thing? That was his little secret. Shh, don't tell anyone!

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x female reader #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fluff #knives out #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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make-me-imagine · 4 years ago

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Prompt: Legolas is seriously injured after an orc fight, the reader takes care of him in Rivendell + reader braiding his hair.

Pairing: Legolas x Gen!Neutral Reader

Requested by: Anon Words: 1.8k

Triggers: Fighting, blood, angst

Genre: Angst + Fluff (Happy Ending)

Lotr/The Hobbit Taglist: @ta-ka-shi-ma

You turned quickly as another orc ran towards you, quickly slicing him down, you make your way across the battlefield. The orcs had recently been spreading across the land causing havoc on the people. This was one of those times, but not so luckily for them, a group or elves, including you and Legolas were travelling in the area when the orcs descending on a nearby village. They would not get away so easily this time.

As you approached another elf being bombarded by orcs you helped to fight them off. You struggled against them as it was now five against two with a few more approaching.

Legolas, who had nearby looked across the battle, seeing you and the other elf struggling. He also saw a rather large orc running quickly at you from behind. Legolas quickly ran towards you, hoping to make it to you before you were over-run by orcs.

You grunted as you knocked another orc away from you, staggering as you dodge the blow from another. You managed to kill two of them, but more were coming. You could sense someone running at you from behind, just as two orcs lunged at you from the side and front.

Dodging one sword, another sliced along your arm making you hiss in pain as you stabbed him and knocked him down before defending yourself from the other. Just as you met your weapon with him, you heard a yell from behind you. Glancing as far as you could back, you see a large orc preparing to swing down on you with an axe.

You were about to try and move out of the way, though you knew you would not get fully out of the way of the axes path, when you saw a figure with light blonde hair appear between you and the large orc.

Your eyes widened as you heard a grunt of pain come from the figure, as the axe struck his shoulder. Quickly kicking the orc in front of you, wanting to go to Legolas’s aid, you stabbed the orc, turning just in time to see Legolas successfully stab and kill the larger orc.

But as Legolas fell to his knees and swayed, you ran to him, catching him before he hit the ground. Seeing the large deep wound high up on his shoulder.

Looking around, you felt relief when you saw most of the orcs had been slain, the others fleeing in the distance. You called out to one of the others elves to get you your horse. You needed to get Legolas and the other injured elves to Rivendell. It was where you had been headed, and the best place to get help.

Riding as fast as you could towards Rivendell, you held tightly to the unconscious elf in your arms, as blood continued to seep from his wounds, the fabric you tied across it not stopping the blood. His face was growing paler by the minute. Your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of him losing this battle. Fighting back the growing moisture in your eyes , you egged your horse on, you needed to get there faster. You didn’t have much time.

The elves in Rivendell were quick to act in saving the young elven Prince, though you, being a skilled healer were the one to never leave his side, though others tried to push you away. Lord Elrond new better though, and allowed you to do the main healing.

You had now been in Rivendell for a few days, spending almost all your time helping Legolas. But he had not woken up yet, which worried you. He had a fever for the first two days, an infection spreading. You managed to tame it, but he should have woken up by now.

Placing your hand on his face, you felt his temperature was returning to normal. You could only hope he would wake up soon. You felt guilt pang through you as you checked his wound. He was injured saving you. You knew he would not want you to feel guilt, but you could not help it.

You sighed as you wiped some dirt from behind his ear that you had not noticed yet, your eyes also wandering across his hair. Two of his braids had come undone, and a few other had sticks and dirt in them.

Wondering for a moment if he would mind, you reminisced back to a time when you had injured your arm, and could not fix your hair. So he did for you. It was surprisingly intimate and gentle, and made you flush thinking about it.

Delicately undoing the rest of his braids, you brushed through them with care, feeling for the first time just how soft his hair was. You could not get to the braids at the back of his head, but you would deal with the ones on the side for now. As you laced in the braids on the left side of his head, you began to hum quietly. An ancient elven song you new from a young age. Moving to the right side of his head you began to brush out the loose braids, continuing your song.

Working on the last braid you found that you had no more ties nor beads to close the end of the braid. Thinking for a moment, you took out one of your own braid, taking the delicate bead at the end out to use on Legolas’s braid. As you worked on the final braid you continued to hum the rest of the song, unaware that Legolas began to stir.

The sound of the familiar song seemed to penetrate the darkness Legolas had been stuck in, allowing him to form consciousness as he seemed to follow the beautiful tune through the darkness and towards what he hoped was light.

As his eyes fluttered open slowly, the song became clear to him as he finally awoke fully. His eyes moved around the healing rooms, landing on your profile as he saw you staring at something. Feeling a light pull in his hair, he became aware that you were, brushing his hair? No, braiding. He stared at the side of your face for a moment, you looked determined, and concentrated, but also melancholy as you continued to hum the melody. You had small cuts on the side of your face, but you were still the most beautiful creature he had seen, and had he believed he was dead, he’d think you to be an angel.

As you finished the final braid, your eyes glanced quickly to Legolas’s face as it had many times before, but you quickly did a double take as you realized that his eyes were open, and that he was looking at you.

A small gasp left your mouth as you looked fully at him “Legolas” you whispered out, as relief and happiness flowed through you “You’re finally awake” you smiled at him.

The relief on your face was obvious, which meant that he must have been asleep for longer than he thought. He nodded his head lightly “I am.”

Without much thought you leaned down and hugged him, aware enough that you did not press on his wounds. Legolas let out a small smile as you did so. When you pulled away you felt his face for temperature “You’re fever has faded.” you commented.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“A few days.” you hesitated for a moment “You almost died Legolas.” your voice was low, sad.

“Yes. But you were here were you not? You healed me?”

You nodded your head as he smiled “But you should not have done what you did.”

“What? Saved you?” he said with a small smile.

“I am not worth you Legolas” you said catching him by surprise.

He knew that you were referring to him being royalty, he hummed out as he moved to sit up. You quickly helped him as he leaned against the backboard of his bed. His eyes fell to the braids draped across his chest, delicate work. Your work. His eyes landed on the small bead at the end of one braid, he recognized it as yours. He felt his heart pound in his chest at the realization. A smile spread across his face for a moment before he remembered your words. “You’re wrong”

“You are the Prince Legolas, you are-”

“I do not care that I am a Prince.” He cut you off. You stared at him for a moment as he continued “I would die for you any day.”

You hesitated for a moment, you knew that you would die for him, and you knew he would for you, but he should not feel that way, he was too important. He stared intensely into your eyes “Why?” you muttered out, quietly.

He lifted his hand, as he gently stroked the side of your face, catching you off guard “Because I love you.” His voice was delicate but genuine as you stared into his eyes, your face most definitely portraying shock. “And don’t you dare say that I cannot love you, because I am a Prince.” he said, amusement in his voice, the comment made you smile slightly.

You lifted your hand and placed it on his “I will not say you cannot, but...you should not. Nor should I love you, but...I do.”

Legolas took in a breath at your mutual confession before a small gentle smile fell across his face, he leaned forward, wincing slightly from the pain. You leaned forward the stop him, but before you could he quickly pulled your face to his as he kissed you.

When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours “Your father will forbid it” you commented quietly.

“He cannot, he will not.” he placed his hand on your face again “I will not let him. I have remained distant from you for too long.”

You looked into each others eyes for a moment before Legolas pulled your face a little closer, you leaned in, as you kissed again. When you pulled away you tried to repress the smile on your face by pushing him back lightly “You need to rest, you still have a lot of healing to do.”

He followed your words and lied back down, but took your hand in his as he rested his against his chest “As long as you are here.”

“I will be.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand as he leaned his head back on the pillow his eyes closing as he began to fall back into a slumber.

You let a smile spread across your face now as you played back what just occurred. For so long you hid your feelings, refusing to believe the would be returned. But just this once, you were happy to be wrong.

- - -

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mieohmy · 4 years ago

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𝖠𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾 | 𝖪𝗂𝗆 𝖲𝗎𝗇𝗐𝗈𝗈

PAIRING: kim sunwoo x fem reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, humor, strangers-to-lovers, unrequited love au, dancer!reader, formeridoltrainee!sunwoo

WC: 14.7k

NOTES: drinking+alcohol consumption, slight cursing, tiny hint of sexual harassment, a temporarily sad sunwoo :(

SUMMARY: for years, sunwoo’s harbored a crush on the same girl. even though his feelings are probably unrequited and she has no idea, insert you into the picture: a recently-turned-single person that finds interest in assisting his love quest! well, except for the fact that some feelings (that really shouldn’t be happening) begin to stir..

+ happy valentines day to everyone ^^

Day 11. Of your newly turned single life. You’re not even sure why it’s upsetting. He wasn’t that impressionable and left an unpleasant aftertaste in your mouth. Maybe it wasn’t even him, the way he randomly suggested an end to your several months of life together.

Maybe it was just you.

Nonetheless, drinks are always a way to get rid of all unwanted thoughts, the liquid flowing through your body and numbing all senses. But apparently not enough for you to miss a rising conflict at a couple tables away from yours one night.

You didn’t want to involve yourself in someone else’s business, you affirmed internally, downing another shot. But the increasing noise and tension grab your attention nevertheless.

There’s some guy. Wasted, you can definitely tell. It’s what he attracted that’s causing all the disturbance to your inevitably lonely night.

You’re not really sure what’s going on, but he’s obviously pissing off some other people, and the noise isn’t going down.

Seriously, no one else is gonna do anything?

It’s getting increasingly worse, and once of the guys raises an arm, (probably to incite something violent you don’t want to deal with, but you do anyway) your body takes over your mind and forces you over to the table.

“Excuse me, not to pry or anything, but is there something wrong?” You don’t even know who this horribly drunk guy is, and still, here you are, attempting to save his butt.

Maybe you should’ve used your brain once to actually look and see who you were facing against. The extremely bulky man scoffs, squinting at you.

“And who are you? Another fangirl of his?”

The drunk man suddenly stirs next to you, aggressively pointing at the guy. “Don’t worry about him,” he slurs, “he’s just jealous he doesn’t have anyone that likes him back.”

Muscly guy (you can’t think of any other way to describe him) lets out a loud guffaw, slapping his thigh rather hard. “And what about you? What about that girl you’ve liked since forever? Can’t say anything back now, huh?”

Drunk boy (another great nickname) abruptly stands up, knocking glasses over and making more of a ruckus. You notice he’s super tensed, and his eyes flash something you can’t read.

“Don’t you dare say anything about her.”

“Oooh, the tough boy becomes a softie. It’s sad how-“

It is sad, you think. It’s sad how he never gets to finish his sentence before the supposedly wasted guy launches a solid fist at his face.

And then you’re not sure what really happens next. A lot of chaos that wasn’t settling well for a still somewhat drunk person like you.

Although, you miraculously manage to appease the angered employees and drag the guy with you outside.

“No-just- Sit!” You huff, finally shoving him down onto a bench. You forgot how exhausting it was to take of other drunk people. You have absolutely no clue as to why you’re still helping this guy, but it’s too late to just leave him now, you suppose.

Slumping next to him, you exhale, enjoying the finally peaceful moment. It’s a cold night, but you feel.... warm, buzzing alive. The usual numbness in your body was nowhere to be found.

“Well, aren’t you gonna thank me?”

His head ever so slowly turns to you. “Me? Why would I?” Scoffing, you glance him over.

“You’re such a troublemaker, that I can tell. Maybe I should call you that from now on unless you give me a name?”

The guy starts humming a random tune, eyes closed and basking in the moment. “Sunwoo. Kim Sun. Wooooo.”

You nod, making a note in your head to find a Kim Sunwoo later to pay you back. All of a sudden, you hear sniffles.

Is he- is he crying? But he’s laughing too? What kind of crazy person did I just save...

“Um, are you alright? What’s so funny?”

His head lols toward you.

“Have you ever been in love with someone for years? And they never knew? And then they started dating your ex-best friend, and even after he left, you stayed by their side and never said anything about how you felt?” Until the guy freakin shows back up again after years, and then you feel like the stupidest person ever for not saying anything?”

You blink. “.... I’m sorry?”

“Well, that’s my life right now.”

You think about how you should probably be at home instead of sitting next to a stranger at 3am, but you stay. And listen.

He spills everything. The girl he not so secretly likes. The guy she’s dating. Was, he corrects. Who also was coincidentally his best friend when they were younger. Until said ex-friend went overseas for school. Leaving sunwoo and his crush together all alone. And then ex-friend has to mess it all up by unexpectedly coming back to Korea.

You weren’t asking for the juicy details, but what can you expect for a very much still intoxicated person?

And after the whole story’s done and said, you can only laugh.

“So he came back? From overseas? Without even saying anything in advance?”

“Yup, and now I’m here. Left alone, just like before. Knowing them, she won’t be able to resist his charms, and they’ll probably be back together in a month, give or take.”

He laughs again, a sad bark. “Honestly, I don’t blame her. They’re like soulmates.”

Whistling, you shake your head. “That’s really something, Kim Sunwoo... You’re really something.”

He clumsily stands up, giving you a surprisingly cute smile. “Thanks, stranger. I don’t even know your name.”

Coughing, you stand up as well, ignoring his remark. “Do you have someone to take you home? It’s really late..”

Sunwoo looks around aimlessly before giggling, “I don’t know where my phone is.”

“It’s in your pocket.”

“Oh my god, are you a psychic or something?”

“You took it out a minute ago to show me pictures of your crush.”

“Haha, right.”

Rolling your eyes, you decide to take initiative for once and reach for the phone in his pocket, ignoring his little sound of surprise.

“Wow, you don’t even have a password. Is this Eric guy alright to call? You know what- never mind, I’m just gonna call anyways.”

......

“Hello? Where the heck are you?? It’s freakin almost four and-“

“Excuse me? Is this kim sunwoo’s friend?”

“A GIRL?? wait, you don’t sound like-”

Interrupting him, you explain everything while somehow able to watch over a melancholy sunwoo gaze off into the distance like in a melodramatic movie.

His friend Eric? sends you an address, and you haul sunwoo over.

Once the door opens, you don’t even stay to hear what he says, just leaving sunwoo and trudging your way back home. To finally sleep. To get back to your boring life and forget about Kim sunwoo.

ꔫ

Until you see Sunwoo again. You were surprised to run into him, almost not recognizing who he was.

Thanks to the ice cream you wanted to remind you of the favor Kim Sunwoo totally owed back.

After purchasing your lovely snack, you spin around to leave when you bump into someone.

“Ah- I’m sorry,” you stop. His face.... could it be?

Eyes wide, you tilt your head at him. “Oh- troublemaker.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, confused eyes boring into yours for a solid minute.

“Who? ..wait a second.” You almost laugh as the recognition slowly flickers in his eyes.

Everything in his body screams to run. Sunwoo attempts to sprint as fast as he can away, but he’s extremely shocked at how fast your reflexes are, hand clenched tight on his wrist.

“Wait, are you just gonna try and run away after I helped you?”

Coughing awkwardly, he bows and still tries to get the hell out of there- Eric’s words about some girl and totally wasted resurfacing from his memory.

Your words prevent him from leaving. “How are you and your crush doing?” You say it so casually, it’s almost as if you two are friends.

Sunwoo sighs frustratedly, contemplating before accepting the defeat and beckoning you outside to follow him. He isn’t one to talk to strangers -Sunwoo likes to describe himself as a ‘cold and silent’ type of person. On the other hand, he figured he’s already spilled everything to you while drunk.

But it’s not just that, Sunwoo finds it strangely easy to open up to you. Possibly because from as much as he can recall, you didn’t judge him for having a stupid one-sided crush for the longest time.

Once seated on the curbside comfortably, he starts.

“It’s okay, I guess. I don’t know if she’s met up with him yet, how she’s feeling. Honestly, I have no idea what to do.”

Humming, you open your ice cream with gleaming eyes. Sunwoo doesn’t miss your face, unconsciously smiling but dropping it when you face him with the ice cream positioned at your lips.

“Well.... you said it’s been years, right?” He nods.

“Maybe things have changed. Maybe she doesn’t like him anymore. I mean, how do you know she doesn’t like you back? You’ve been by her side for so long, she might’ve developed feelings- you never know.”

“That’s the thing,” he groans, “I don’t know. I have absolutely no idea if she likes me back or not.”

Tapping your feet in a random beat against the ground, you contemplate.

“... maybe you could test it out.”

“How?” he huffs.

“Hint at it, so she’ll have no choice but to know. Or even better-make her jealous. Flirt with other girls and see how she reacts. It’s quite simple, troublemaker.”

His eyes flick to yours, irritation evident. “Will you stop calling me that? And also tell me who you are if you’re just gonna start giving me love advice? A name?” (On the inside, he’s wondering why he’s making such a fuss over you; someone he’s met a total of one time before this.)

You shrug nonchalantly, enjoying the taste of your savory ice cream. Darn, you should’ve tried this flavor out before...

“Does it matter? After all, I’m the one who saved your ass.”

Sunwoo scowls, even when he was drunk he didn’t remember you being so exasperating without even trying.

“Whatever, I guess I should say thanks for helping me that one night. You won’t tell anyone about this, alright?” He glares.

If you’re trying to be scary, it doesn’t work, -is what you want to say. Instead, you respond with raised eyebrows and a tiny smirk.

“No, I’m not that disrespectful of a person. You would know that the best, wouldn’t you? After I helped you and all?”

He mutters ‘you’re annoying...’ under his breath.

Collecting your things, you brush yourself off and stand up, not bothering to look down at him. “I’m not annoying. I’m y/l/n y/n.”

You miss the disgruntled expression of his face, what a shame.

Taking a couple steps forward, you abruptly stop and turn your head to smile back at him. “Don’t forget, Kim Sunwoo. Be expecting that favor.”

ꔫ

When you offered to get drinks for everyone at the studio, you didn’t think you’d end up carrying four stacks of beverages on top of each other.

Making your way slowly and precisely to the exit, eyes locked on the wobbly coffee tower, a body knocks into you right as the door opens.

You can only watch in slow motion as the tower knocks over, one drink toppling over.

However, you manage to catch that flying drink. Dang, my reflexes are doing great lately.

As for the tower, it’s.... actually saved? By a pair of hands stabilizing the sides. You’re eternally grateful to whoever’s standing behind the tall tower that was able to rescue your precious drinks.

Exhaling in relief, you tilt your body to look past the barrier and thank your savior. It’s a... “Sunwoo?”

“What’s with all the coffees?”

You narrow your eyes. “It’s for my work. Now, if you would excuse me.“

You attempt to push your way past to the exit, but sunwoo lets out a whoa! and reattaches his grip back to your leaning tower of drinks.

“You’re gonna kill someone with these.”

Rolling your eyes, you retort, “It’s all good, so please-“

“Alright, whatever you say, y/n.”

Biting your lip, you slowly turn your body to the door, preparing your hand to let go and quickly push open the door.

Spoiler- it doesn’t work, and you’re left frustrated with sunwoo still watching your struggle for a couple of minutes.

“You know, if you’re just gonna stand there, maybe you could do something more... helpful?”

“Oh? I thought you didn’t need any help.” Sunwoo believes he doesn’t care much about assisting others, but watching you is too amusing.

“Just get over here. Before I start calling you some other nicknames.”

He smirks. “At your service, miss.”

He takes a couple of stacks, relieving your tired arms, and you manage to make it outside, slumping down on a bench.

“Thank you, sunwoo.”

“Does that mean I don’t owe you a favor anymore?”

“Um, no,” you snort, “ that was just you being polite and helping someone else like any other person would.”

He puts his hands on his waist, pretending to think thoughtfully.

“I think that was about, 20? 30? dollars worth of drinks that could’ve been spilled. “If-,” he points with a finger, “I hadn’t saved you.”

Squinting back up at him, you slightly shake your head in annoyance. “Fine. We’re even now.”

He snaps his fingers. “Ah, that’s right. I tried the jealousy thing or whatever you were talking about.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t work,” he deadpans. “She knows I’m not one to flirt with random girls-if anything, it’s the opposite, and I usually reject them.”

You raise an eyebrow, fiddling with your hair. “Okay? Why are you telling me that?”

“I’m meeting her in a couple of days at a restaurant, and I want you to go with us.”

Your face shows no reaction. “We just got even, and you’re asking for another favor, troublemaker?”

Gathering all the drinks, you’re about to leave when he stops you again.

“Wait. I don’t think I explained myself clearly. I want you to tag along, and I can see how she reacts, you know?”

“No, I understand what you mean. And no thank you. You’ve known her since what, high school? And we’ve only met like a couple of times. That’s awkward. I’m gonna be a total third wheel, and it’s the literal worst, so I’m fine.”

He stomps his feet in frustration, making you cough at his sudden cuteness.

“Please. I’m a prideful man and don’t like asking others for favors. So just come and play along with me. I don’t really talk to other girls, so you’re the only way for me to see if she gets jealous or not. Besides, I’m always the one paying for the food in the end.”

He had you at food. You suddenly nod, replying, “Alright, I’ll go. Just text me the place and time.”

He scoffs, “it’s always the food...”

Ignoring him, you make your way back to the studio with your coffee tower before hearing a yell.

“Wait! y/l/n y/n!! I need your number?!!!?”

You stifle a laugh, hearing his quickly approaching footsteps from behind.

ꔫ

He sends you the details the next day, with a winking selfie of himself (that you ignore).

‘i sent u the location of the restaurant’

‘dont forget were still trying to make her jealous’

‘and dress up’

‘the nicer u look the better’

‘not that looks matter that much tho’

‘and also not that i think u look nice or anything either, dont get any ideas’

There’s no option but to leave him on read after his choice of grammar. Just kidding, you send a simple ‘ok’ and don’t think about it until the day comes.

You can’t tell if this is a normal feeling, but your insides feel queasy, palms slightly sweaty like you’re about to perform in front of a huge crowd.

Why do you feel nervous? It’s just meeting the girl that sunwoo has liked for years. That’s all.

Closing your door, you retrieve your phone to check the location he sent you.

Actually, sunwoo asked you to meet him earlier near the restaurant. You’re not sure why, he simply answered, ‘research tings’ you corrected his spelling after.

He stands a couple feet away from you, anxiously tapping his foot.

“Wow, didn’t know you had such an e-boy style.”

He whips around towards the sound of your voice. Sunwoo isn’t sure why he’s surprised, you look quite... pretty nice.

Coughing, he mutters, “I appreciate that you took the time to dress up.”

You duck your head in perhaps, shyness? Glancing at your phone, you remark, “we have five minutes.”

He suddenly jolts, checking his outfit. “Hey, how do I look? Okay? Does it seem like I tried too hard?”

Your eyes flick to him for a split second before looking away. “You look good.”

There’s a pause before he clears his throat. “Is that it?”

You inhale, facing him again. “Yeah. What do you want me to say? Oh, you’re so handsome, and your stylish clothes match your hair perfectly!”

Sunwoo suddenly grins. “Well, if you wanted to call me handsome you could’ve done so earlier.”

While you’re distracted grumbling about him, Sunwoo sneakily captures a shot, the sound making you jump.

“Why.... why did you just take a picture of me?”

He grins, shrugging. “Contact photo.”

Your face suddenly returns back to its normal blank expression, and you take his arm. He’s surprised, looking at you before you mutter, “Is that her?”

You can remember the time drunk sunwoo showed you photos of his crush, but to be honest, you didn’t really pay close attention to her. His eyes glance around before he swallows and nods. “She’s coming over here. And don’t worry, I told her I invited a friend.”

Sunwoo watches as his longtime crush spots him, shooting a wave and a smile. Then he sees her eyes flick down to you, the smile quickly fading as she walks over.

Once she arrives, she takes your hand off his arm, making your eyes widen in astonishment.

“Excuse me- whatever it is you want from him, I don’t think he’s interested.”

“Sunwoo!” she turns toward the boy with her back to you, “where’s your friend?”

You and Sunwoo stare at each other in shock before you raise a hand over your mouth to contain your laughter.

He blinks, looking back down at the girl. His hand slowly raises to point at you. “Right here.”

You weren’t able to notice earlier, but you can tell why sunwoo likes her.

Oh. She’s prettier in person.

She stares at you for a moment before spinning back to him, whispering not so quietly, “since when did you talk to girls that weren’t me?”

Sunwoo rolls his eyes, “That doesn’t matter. This is y/n.”

You give a polite smile, accepting her very quick apology.

ꔫ

“Actually Sunwoo, this is a trendy place to go to now, I wonder how you got a table- I actually came here once before with...... ah, never mind. “

You quietly listen to her talk, following behind as she sits at a table.

Not wanting to make it awkward, you sit across from her, leaving two seats open-one next to you and one next to her.

Also leaving Sunwoo to stop, eyes flicking between the two options.

“Why are you hesitating?” the girl says impatiently, “just sit.”

You glance at him, almost speaking with your eyes, this is a chance.

Sunwoo slides down next to you as you study the girl, waiting for any sign of a reaction.

You do get something. It’s not much, just a curious look at the two of you seated next to each other.

After ordering, Sunwoo chooses the same dish as you.

You smirk. “Ah, of course. My taste in food is excellent.”

He scoffs, “No, I decided I was gonna get this way before you. If anything, I have great taste, and you’re just a copycat.”

Grinning, you retort, “Yeah right, I’m actually a psychic. Sound familiar?”

He groans, bringing a hand to cover his face. You laugh at his misery. “Let’s not bring that backup...”

You turn to the girl, casually sipping her drink as she studies the two of you. But once realizing you’re both looking at her, she shoots up.

“Um-did you say something?”

You can tell. The way he stares at her, the soft smile that appears only when she speaks to him. You honestly don’t understand how she hasn’t figured it out yet - that is if she really doesn’t know.

Deep inside, you think you know the answer. But you don’t want to assume anything just yet-you’ve only reached the opening stages of the plot.

In the end, Sunwoo doesn’t get much. If he’s learned anything, it’s that you’re a much better actor than you seem. The subtle touches, flirting. He knows it’s all for show, though.

But for you, you get much more than sunwoo. A full stomach without having to pay anything. And you got to meet the girl of ‘sunwoo’s dreams’.

She’s nice. Funny. Really pretty. You can see yourself becoming friends with her. All in all, she’s a great person to have a crush on. Except for all the ex-boyfriend stuff.

Before you leave, she speaks up once more.

“I’m kinda upset.” she pouts. You and sunwoo immediately look at each other, waiting for her to continue.

“You never told me you had other female friends. You always said you weren’t interested, I thought you would’ve mentioned it to me or something....”

Awkwardly turning to you, she bows and apologizes once more. “Sorry again, for earlier. It was really nice to meet you. Let’s see each other again, Sunwoo’s other female friend.”

Sunwoo elbows her, “what’s that supposed to mean?” But she only laughs.

You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you remember he mentioned he was gonna hang out with her after this, just the two of them.

Waving bye to them, you suddenly freeze once you spot someone behind sunwoo.

It’s... your ex. Coincidentally in the same location as you. Walking in your direction. Luckily, you don’t think he’s spotted you. Yet.

It shouldn’t bother you as much, but it does.

Sunwoo notices your fallen face. “Y/n??”

He doesn’t know what’s behind him that caused that reaction of yours, but he recognizes that expression anywhere. It’s the same one he probably had on too. Whenever she was with him.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder, turning you the other way so you can’t look. You break out of your trance and stare up at him. “What... what are you doing?”

Sunwoo only stares ahead of him. Then he walks. And you do too.

He walks until you’re outside, away from everyone.

It’s silent, but you gather some confidence to speak up. “Thank you.. what about your friend? Isn’t she still inside?”

“Oh, she’s probably fine waiting. It’s okay. This seemed more important right now anyway.”

That’s the first time your heart fluttered, whether you knew it or not.

ꔫ

After that, you find out sunwoo texts a lot. Well, he texts you a lot. Mostly about girl advice. Which he shouldn’t even be asking you -I mean you’re the one who recently got out of a relationship.

Even if you complain that he’s annoying, you find helping him to be pretty entertaining. Also attacking his texting skills.

Because the rest of your life is just that boring at the moment.

That could be a factor in why you decided to go on a blind date. With some random guy. You weren’t even looking for anything serious, just a night out different from your usual staying in.

But you deeply regret wearing shorter clothes. He wasn’t bad at first. And then came the touching.

It was just a knock of the feet. It seemed like nothing, a mere couple of accidents. And when he moved to sit next to you instead of in front, you should’ve known.

His thigh touching yours, an arm around the back of the seat.

Occasionally you would cough and scoot away, trying any way to send signals of back off.

After his hand brushes your thigh, you sigh. “I’m sorry, but please don’t touch me, while I’m asking nicely.”

He chuckles, moving his arm to hang around your shoulders. “Come on, you agreed to go on this date with me. Might as well have some fun.”

You calmly fling his arm off you, standing up to grab your stuff when he just won’t stop, will he?

“Let go of my hand,” you say calmly.

“Girl, just-“

“She asked you to let go, didn’t she?”

Why is it that he keeps popping up in your life? And it’s not just him alone, he’s with her again. Probably came here together to eat too, you guess.

“Who are you? Her boyfriend? Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Does it matter? She asked you to stop, and you didn’t.”

Sunwoo harshly removes his grip from yours and takes your hand, leading you outside of the place.

You move your hand away from his, but the warmth still remains. Arms crossed, you only look at him blankly. “You know I could've handled it, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, but sometimes guys are really stubborn and need someone to physically beat them up so they listen.”

That causes a tiny smile to surface. “I’m guessing you came with her, right? How’s it going?”

He shrugs, “dunno. She’s been acting okay since the last time we three went to that restaurant.”

You nod thoughtfully. “Well, are you gonna keep her waiting? You can go back in now, I’m going home.”

“What? I’ll take you.”

You frown. “Why do you want to take me home? To find out where I live, stalker?”

Sunwoo scoffs. “First troublemaker and now stalker? And no, I’m just being a gentleman. Now accept my offer before I take it back. I’m not always this kind.”

Huffing, you begin your walk back, leaving him behind.

“Hey-! Wait up!” Once again, sunwoo has no clue why he follows you instead of easily going back to where he should be- originally wanted to be.

The first couple of minutes of the walk are a peaceful silence, basking in the cool night. It doesn’t last for long, because something comes to your head.

“Wait. What about your crush?”

“Why do you keep asking about her? When you’re in more distress? Of course, I’m gonna help you right now.”

“That’s not what I mean... if you’re just trying to make her jealous, you don’t have to walk me all the way.”

I don’t get why you’re here with me, instead of with the girl you like.

Sunwoo stops. “Wait what- Do you really think I would do that?”

Your nod causes him to scoff. “No, I told you before, I’m just being polite. It’s fine. She can wait.”

“You hang out together a lot,” you remark, “you must really like her.”

“Yeah, I just- I think she’s just bored and asks me to go out with her because no one else will... and I always accept.”

“Oh. It seemed like you were the one constantly forcing her to go out with you.”

Sunwoo laughs, if it’s sarcastic or genuine you can’t tell. “You’re funny.”

You take a couple more steps before deciding to break the silence that reformed. “Anyways, aren’t you curious about how we met? That night?”

Frowning, he responds, “that’s right, I don’t exactly remember.”

“To start with, I actually went to that bar because I got broken up with.”

Sunwoo makes a surprised face. “I see...”

“Yeah, and you were there that night. Causing a scene with some bulky guys, and I saved your butt. You talked. A lot. I listened. That was it. Oh, and that day at the mall... it was my ex that I saw.”

He hums thoughtfully. “So that’s who it was....”

Once you reach your doorstep, Sunwoo suddenly breaks out in a dance.

“Niceee- I paid back the favor for making you come with me to that restaurant!”

“That doesn’t count Kim Sunwoo because you came here on your own will. Goodnight.”

Shutting the door in his face, you hear him spluttering from outside. That guy is really something.

ꔫ

Sunwoo finds your requests very weird. Your service is attempting to help him win over his crush, and in return, you only want a simple hangout with his company? It’s strange.

(If he asked you, you would probably just say you were bored and had nothing to do. That’s the only reason. Really.)

One afternoon, he receives a text from you, your contact saved as “annoying y/n”.

‘Let’s get food. That means you’re paying. I’m at my studio right now, so 3?”

‘where r u’

‘i can pick u up’

‘-current address sent-’

One thing he wasn’t expecting from you was a dance studio? And weirdly, he feels a tiny bit guilty for not knowing anything about you, except your name.... and your ex.

Cautiously opening the door, he looks around for any sign of where you could be.

But the place is kinda confusing with all the doors, so he eventually gives up and decides to ask some nearby strangers.

Ignoring their blushes and remarks of his handsomeness, Sunwoo asks, “Do you know where y/l/n y/n is?”

They quickly point at a door before running off, whispering ‘is he their boyfriend or something??’

Sunwoo coolly makes his way over, peeking through the small window.

Another thing he doesn’t expect is how good of a dancer you are. It gives him flashbacks- back when he used to do routines in his old practice room.

He observes the way your limbs move so fluidly but still sharp and exact. Everything just feels so right, in tune with the music. It almost takes his breath away, watching you for who knows how long.

Once the music stops and your tired breaths fill the room does sunwoo finally pop in, clapping and nodding.

“Pretty good, stranger.”

You scrunch your nose. “Is that my nickname now? Not even a little more creative?”

Ah, there it is. “You know, I like you a lot better when you’re dancing, not talking, and being mean to me.”

You blink. “So you like me, huh? That was fast.”

He ignores your comment. “You should be grateful you’re in the presence of Kim sunwoo, alright? Many girls would kill to be you.”

“Not your crush, though? I’m sorry. That was low of me.”

“It was,” he agrees. Falling back onto the ground, he stares up at the ceiling, speaking up.

“How long have you been dancing for?”

The atmosphere feels strangely peaceful. “Since I was young. Just kinda picked it up for fun, and it became a thing. I like it -sometimes it’s exhausting, but I like it.”

His eyes fixate on the blinding lights. “Hmm, this place is reminding me of when I was younger. In high school.”

You join him on the ground, the sound of your breaths can only be heard in the room.

“What do you mean?”

“I used to be an idol trainee. Practiced for a couple of years before quitting.”

You turn your head to look at him. “Impressive. What did you do?”

Sunwoo closes his eyes. “Rapping. Dancing. Singing. A little bit of everything. But mostly rapping.”

“Will you rap something then?”

His eyes flick open. “What? I can’t just rap off the top of my head.”

You pout, “no fun. Well, can you still dance?”

“Maybe..”

You suddenly sit up. “Should we dance something together?”

Your eyes sparkle, the first time sunwoo’s noticed them doing that.

“Just- don’t make fun of me. It’s been years.”

“I won’t.”

“... -guarantee anything.”

Sunwoo’s doesn’t know. What this fleeting feeling in his chest is. When your hands softly correct his position, when you try not to laugh at his mistake. And then your delighted face when he gets it right in the end.

It’s probably nothing, sunwoo thinks. He’s sure, very sure that he’s still in love with his high school crush..

It’s all strange, really.

ꔫ

You would say your life is pretty boring. You didn’t do much until Kim Sunwoo shoved his way in.

Your next meeting occurred a couple weeks after the dance practice incident. It was weird, almost like fate was constantly crossing your paths (maybe they were huhu).

The mart’s automatic doors slide close behind as you walk into the night.

But you stop. There’s some kind of shuffling, commotion coming from the dark alley next to you. So what better than to check it out, right?

It’s almost pitch black, but you’re 99.9% sure some guys are beating someone up. So you yell.

“Hey! What’s going on?”

Thankfully, they don’t try to attack you, instead just running off in the opposite direction after the sound of your voice.

It’s hard to see, but you briskly make your way to the huddled figure on the ground, heart pounding.

“Sir? Sir? Are you alright?” You’re trembling but still manage to gently shake his shoulder.

And when he looks up, you can only gasp.

“Troublemaker?”

“...y/n? Why are you here?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Oh my god, are you okay?”

He attempts to sit up, chuckling lowly. “Just got ganged up on. I guess it happens when you mess with the wrong people.”

Your eyes flash. “This isn’t the time to be joking, sunwoo. Where are you hurt?”

He groans, sighing and holding a hand out in front of you. “Just.... don’t. Leave. I can take care of myself, it used to happen all the time.”

You can tell something definitely happened to him, but what exactly is the question.

You scoff, squatting next to him. “Listen Kim Sunwoo,” you speak harshly, “I don’t care how long we’ve known each other. I’m not letting anyone obviously hurt like this alone. If you’re just gonna stay here, then I’ll drag you out myself if I have to.”

There’s a break before you notice he’s slighty shaking. Is he? Is he laughing? What a crazy guy.

“You’re funny,” he chuckles. And then an arm is held out to you.

You take it, pulling him up.

Groaning, you note he’s heavier than you thought. One of his arms hanging on your shoulder, yours around his waist. He’s slightly limping too.

You hold back the urge to scold Sunwoo. What did you do to make yourself come out this bad?

Slowly, you walk over to a bench, but before you make it, you spot a certain someone across the street.

And you think he does too.

You stiffen. He freezes. Biting your lip, you look back at sunwoo, trying to read his face.

“Is that- is that him with her? The ex?”

He nods, eyes never leaving the two, who were probably hanging out together-maybe even going on a date. He has no clue and no wish to find out. The familiar feeling sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

You shake your head, clearing all distractions and eventually making it to the bench where you set him down.

“I need to get medicine. If you leave, I swear I’ll-“

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t think I can anyway.”

But before you run to the store conveniently 10 steps away, you unwrap the soft scarf around your neck, raising it up to his face.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” you say softly, “and put this on. This way, you won’t look at them together, and it’ll be a little easier.”

Gently, you tie the scarf around his eyes.

“Five minutes. I promise I’ll be back.”

ꔫ

Once you return, a bag of medicine in hand, you set it down next to him, causing him to slightly jump.

But a lightbulb flashes in your brain. Quietly tiptoeing in front of him, you aim the camera and shoot.

You laugh at the way sunwoo jumps slightly at the noise, blindly looking around, and you also laugh at the way the photo came out-an unsuspecting Kim sunwoo.

“What was that? Did you just take a picture?”

He can’t see, but you grin cheekily. “Contact photo.”

Squatting in front of him, your warm hands deftly unwrap the scarf blindfold, removing it from his face.

He squints, your concerned face coming into view.

“It wasn’t too bad, right?”

“Delete it.” His reply is curt.

“Why? I needed a photo for you.”

“Delete it or retake it!! It looks bad. I’m literally wearing a blindfold,” he whines, arms weakly attempting to snatch your phone away.

Luckily for you, he isn’t able to move much and steal it. “No,” you respond indignantly, “it’s cute.”

There’s a pause.

You quickly clear your throat, pretending nothing just happened as you rummage through the plastic bag.

Sunwoo feels weird. Having someone caring for him. It was usually him looking after everyone else- his mother, sister. He can’t remember the last time someone else took care of him.

You take out a box, screwing the cap off the bottle.

“They’re gone now. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“What?”

You stare at him again. “Your crush? And her ex?”

He shifts. “Oh, right.”

Humming, you examine him again. “I’m not a professional, but I’ll try my best..”

Sunwoo sighs once more. “As I said, I don’t know why you’re doing this-“

You cut him off. “Just be quiet, will you?”

After putting ointment on his bruised face, you shuffle through the bad to find another tube, letting out an aha! when you retrieve it.

When you lean in super close to his face, sunwoo tries his best not to turn red. He blames it on the weather.. even though the temperatures were freezing today.

“Why are you helping me?” he mumbles. Sunwoo attempts to avoid looking you in the eye -he doesn’t want to know what’ll happen if he does.

It’s silent for a little bit as you concentrate on all the minor scratches and bruises on his face. Focusing on the cut on his lip, you whisper, “you’re such a troublemaker, aren’t you?”

Offended, he jerks away from you. You return it with a glare and a hand on his chin to hold his face still.

“You can’t even deny it. Now stay still.”

His heart flutters at your delicate hold on his face, soft and focused gaze. Why are you like this?

After a couple more treatments and unusual thumpings in his chest, sunwoo is free to go.

You’re satisfied with your work. “ I would help you home, but I’m tired so call someone or whatever.”

Pausing, you add, “and that’s another favor from you, Kim Sunwoo.”

He rolls his eyes but can’t help thinking of the next time you’ll call for him. He goes home feeling warmer than he remembered, the ghost of your touch still lingering in his dreams.

ꔫ

It’s actually not as boring as one might expect to go to a restaurant alone, in your opinion.

No effort has to be made to communicate to someone else, no worrying about if there’s food stuck in your teeth. No worrying about anyone else but yourself.

So that’s why you alone find your way to the entrance of a nice place- it had almost a five-star rating online.

The waiter seems a bit surprised you’re here by yourself, but you shrug it off. Who cares- you came for the food anyways.

Following the server past other tables and chairs, you abruptly get stopped when a chair pushes out, blocking your way.

The guy seems to notice you then, getting out of his seat and apologizing.

“Whoops, my bad.”

He looks somewhat familiar.

“Oh! Aren’t you-“

“Sunwoo’s friend Eric, right?”

“Y/n???”

You can recognize that voice anywhere. It’s almost making you frustrated. “Again you?”

Spinning around, you didn’t imagine a whole table of eyes locked onto you.

You hear whispers of who’s y/n?, and spot a startled Sunwoo standing up from his seat.

“What are you doing here?”

It makes you suddenly shy, standing in front of all these guys that you suppose are his friends? There’s quite a lot of them all together at one table...

Fidgeting with the ends of your hair again-sunwoo notices this time-you hesitantly speak.

“I came here to eat. Because it’s a restaurant. What-um, what about you?”

Sunwoo gestures at the group. “I’m having dinner with my friends. You know Eric, he’s my roommate.”

Nodding slowly, you just wish to get away, having no idea what happened to your waiter.

And then Eric has to make your night a lot more- let’s just say, stimulating.

“Wait! You can join us at our table!” Eric grins. “It’ll be nice to know who’s been stealing sunwoo away from us.”

Your eye twitches. Who what now?

And the other guys around seem to think the same thought, immediately asking nearby servers for an extra chair.

You don’t move. This could be your death wish for all you know.

And still, you end up sitting squished between Sunwoo and another friend named Newt? New? Who cares.

Half the boys launch an investigation, questioning you with ‘how did you manage to get sunwoo’s attention?’, ‘how did you manage to seduce him?’

Truly an exciting night.

“Guys, for the last time, stop interrogating the shit out of y/n.”

It quickly becomes stuffy, being wedged between twelve boys sharing one small table. How do they do it? Getting up, you mutter an excuse, something along the lines of ‘I need to use the restroom’ and escape the damned table.

Once you’re out of ear's reach, Kevin makes his move, wiggling his eyebrows at sunwoo.

“So..... you and y/n now? What happened to your other crush?”

He rolls his eyes, sipping on his drink. “Like I said, we’ve got nothing going on. I don’t like them like that.”

Eric snorts. “Nah, you like her.”

Sunwoo raises a fist threateningly at him, but Haknyeon’s pat on his shoulder stops him. “I’m happy for you. It’s been so long, everyone’s glad to see you finally moved on.”

He isn’t really sure what to say back. Luckily you return to squeeze between everyone, making the conversation change to a more appropriate topic.

You notice sunwoo’s thoughtful expression. “What’s up?”

“Uh, it’s nothing..” A sudden ringing from his pocket catches your attention.

“Oh, sorry guys. My mom’s calling. Gimme a sec.”

Your eyes follow sunwoo as he steps outside for who knows how long.

“Y/n?”

Your head whips back to the group.

“Yes?”

You think Jacob’s the one who called your name. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You frown.

“Being there for Sunwoo, of course. I’m guessing you probably heard about the girl he used to crush on for ages. She was really important to him, probably still is.”

“Actually, I don’t know much about their past together, ” you reply, eyes focusing on the exit door where sunwoo left through.

Jacob sighs, clearing his throat. “It’s a long story. Sunwoo used to be a bad student in high school.”

You aren’t surprised, gesturing for him to continue.

“Skipped school, failed tests, got in a lot of fights. But it was all for his mom. She was sick, and sunwoo was out doing jobs to make money and support the family. His dad's been gone for a while...”

You stay silent.

“But she was the one who helped him out of it, changed him. That’s how you met the Sunwoo we know today. Even if it was only friendly intentions, I think that was why Sunwoo was so stuck on her. Except when she started dating this other guy, I don’t know why he stayed by her side without making a move for so long.”

There’s a brief moment for everything to sink in.

“He’s scared,” you speak up. Jacob watches you with raised eyebrows.

“He’s scared that she’ll reject him, and he would lose her as a friend.”

Jacob laughs, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

“But not with you, y/n. You’re special. He seems so different around you. Sunwoo’s liked the same girl for so long, he probably didn’t know how to act around a new person he found interest in -especially one like you who compliments him so well.”

You choke. “Compliment him??” No way.

He nods eagerly, “I’ve never seen sunwoo so-“

“Never seen me so what?”

Your head jerks toward the sound of said person’s voice.

“Never seen you so drunk,” you retort.

Sunwoo squints down at you, keeping a mental picture of your innocent stare looking back up at him in his mind.

While everyone orders, you whisper to sunwoo.

“Are you gonna steal my order this time too?”

He recoils before shooting a glare back.

“No,” he says indignantly, “I’m getting something way better than yours. And if yours is good, then I’ll just steal some.”

You raise your fork up as a threat. “If you even look anywhere near my plate, I’ll make sure you won’t get to eat.”

As you two engage in a fierce staring contest, the rest of the boys watch on, sharing knowing looks.

ꔫ

The food’s good. No wonder they like to come here.

Your attention is taken away by a gasping Sunwoo, mouth open you think in an attempt to cool his burning tongue.

You glance at him, unimpressed. “You have food all over your mouth.”

“What?” he rasps back, huffing and puffing air.

“Idiot,” you reply, throwing a napkin at his face.

“Ow,” he whines.

“I think it stabbed me in the eye.”

“The napkin???”

“Yes, you threw it into my face! It totally cut my eyeball.”

You scoff, turning towards him. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m serious! It hurts,” sunwoo complains, “can you look at it?”

You’re sure it’s perfectly fine because he’s holding his eye wide open right in front of you, but just to appease him, you lean in closer to examine his face.

Squinting, you mutter, “Seriously sunwoo, I don’t see any sort of-“

Click!

Both of your heads whip toward the sound. Changmin? giggles evilly, eyes focused on the screen in front of him.

Sunwoo groans again, but he’s cut off.

“Yah, don’t get all worked up. I’ll send the picture to you later, no need to worry!”

You’ve given up at this point. Sunwoo has too.

When the torturous dinner finally comes to an end, you were exhausted. This was supposed to be some enjoyable alone time at a great restaurant with great food and definitely no sunwoo, but life doesn’t like you.

At least his friends were super cool. You found yourself getting along quite nicely with them.

And you also got more insight into sunwoo’s past. It was odd to hear about his past self. It makes you think about your life, what you’ve been doing all this time...

“I can take you home,” sunwoo offers.

“No-!” You quickly respond. “Sorry, I’ve had enough of people. Not you specifically, just people in general.”

He shrugs, “whatever suits you.”

And you’re left alone with thoughts. And unknown feelings. About him.

ꔫ

Melon or banana?

The grocery mart just has too many flavors to choose from, and you don’t have enough freezer space to buy it all.

Humming happily, you place your selected choice into the cart, continuing forward.

When you turn, a mother and son come into view, their back’s facing you as they shop together. It makes you smile at the cute view.

As you stroll past them, you freeze. No way. That voice?

Right as you stopped, the lady turns her shopping cart absentmindedly, causing it to knock into yours with a clang.

“Oh my! Goodness, I’m sorry about that.”

“Mom! Watch where you’re pushing the cart. You know what, just let me do it. It’s getting heavy.”

He turns to you. “Sorry again... you!??!”

You awkwardly turn towards them, failing to muster a smile.

His mom looks between the two of you before a delighted smile appears.

“You know her, sunwoo?” He nods reluctantly.

“And she’s a girl???” she says suggestively to sunwoo, elbowing him hard in the ribs. It takes everything in him to hold back a wince- still not having completely recovered yet from the last time you saw him.

She eagerly holds her hand out to you, and you quickly take it, bowing.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kim.”

She guffaws in the middle of the aisle, one arm on Sunwoo to balance herself in the middle of her excitement.

“What a kind and polite girl!”

“Sunwoo,” she mutters, “you found an even better one!”

He can’t even muster any sort of response.

Sunwoo tries, he really does, taking her arm and forcing her to continue on, whispering fiercely to just leave!!

But his mom is a fighter -a good one. She yanks his grip off her, threatening him harshly before turning back to you with a lovely smile.

The duality though, you think.

His mom suddenly gasps, making sunwoo brace himself, sighing ‘what now...’

“Y/n! Is it okay if I call you that?” You nod.

Clapping her hands together, she says excitedly, “You should come over to our house!”

Sunwoo protests at the speed of light, but she shuts him up with a hand.

“We were buying ingredients to cook dinner tonight! You should join us!! That is if you’re not busy??” Her eyes sparkle.

From behind her, you watch a frantic sunwoo do everything in his power for you to decline.

Unfortunately for him, you have absolutely no plans for tonight.

“I would love to, Mrs. Kim.”

Sunwoo thinks his soul has officially left his body.

His mom laughs bashfully, taking your hand and going off together deeper into the store, deeper into sunwoo’s pain.

It was pretty early on you decided that you really liked his mother. Or, auntie, as she forced you to call her.

And it’s quite obvious she loves you too, much to sunwoo’s shock and disgust.

ꔫ

She opens the door to their apartment, ushering you in.

It’s quite a nice place, a small and lovely house.

“Your home is really beautiful, Mrs- um-auntie.”

Sunwoo’s mother laughs again, placing a hand over her chest.

“You are such a sweet girl. Sunwoo will show you around while I prepare the food!” she finishes with a glare in his direction.

Perking up, you glance around. “Where’s your room?”

Sunwoo gives up, sighing and beckoning you to follow him. He guides you down a hallway, past two doors to the end where a final door stands -you’re guessing that it opens to his room.

“What are the other two doors?”

“Bathroom, and my sister's room.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You have a sister?” He nods, “younger.”

Opening the door, you’re shocked at the neatness. It’s a nice and simple room.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting such a clean room.”

He snorts in response, slumping down into a chair.

Finally alone, you start your attack. “Troublemaker?”

He grunts.

“How come I didn’t know you weren’t such a troublemaker with your mother? You literally turn into a softie next to her.”

“Whatever. I’m not always the best person, but I’m a good son,” he snaps.

You may be teasing him, but on the inside, you soften at how well he takes care of his mother. He must’ve had a hard time working for the family since he was young...

You glance around before your eyes focus on a giant bag of.... juices??

“What,” you start, “What are these?”

“Oh,” he looks in your direction. “Vitamin juices. It has a lot of health benefits.”

You’re suddenly quiet, your voice low. “Kim sunwoo.... collects and hoards juice?”

He moves, uncomfortable at the sudden change of tone. “Yeah??”

And that for some reason that causes you to lose it. A hand clamped over your mouth, you almost can’t even support your own legs as giggles erupt from your body.

Sunwoo thinks it lasts for a much longer time than it should have.

“Why is it so funny to you that I like to drink juice -healthy juice that’s good for you?”

You have no idea, instead just collapsing onto his bed and rolling over in a fit of laughter.

The only thing he can do is unknowingly smile at your shaking figure and flushed face.

It takes a couple more minutes before you finally calm down, letting out a satisfied smile.

“Your bed’s comfy.”

“Yeah, so maybe you should get off it before it becomes uncomfy.”

You ignore him, does that sentence even make sense?

The photos on his wall catch your attention. You suddenly sit up, carefully taking one off that caught your eye.

“Is this you and her? Wait- that’s what you looked like in high school?”

You save a mental image of young sunwoo in your head. This could be great blackmail...

He hisses at your comments, reaching over and trying to snatch it away.

“Stop looking at my old photos-!”

Laughing delightedly, you avoid his grabby hands, holding the photo as far away as you can.

Sunwoo growls, reaching as far over you as he can to take it back.

“Aha!” he yells triumphantly once his fingers make contact with the picture. But sadly for him, he loses his balance over the bed and falls.

On top of you.

His hand fortunately catches him, planting softly right by your head.

The sound of your laughter is cut short, and you can only stare up at him.

Your breath hitches at the close proximity, noticing his legs on either side of yours. Did your heart just skip a beat?

And the fact that he’s just staring down at you so you’re trapped doesn’t help at all.

“Hey, sunwoo! Mom wants you to-“

Both of your heads turn toward the voice.

“.... is that Y/n?”

“Sis?”

Sunwoo’s sister blinks, staring at the position you both were in. “Well then.” She simply closes the door behind her.

“Wait no. It’s not-“ you give up in the middle of speaking.

There’s an awkward silence-you could almost hear the crows cawing in the background.

“So are you gonna get off me or?”

Sunwoo snaps out of his daze. “Right, yeah, sorry.” He wordlessly moves off to sit next to you on the bed.

Coughing, you stare at the ground. “So she’s your-?”

“Yep. My little sister.”

“But,” he frowns, “how did she know your name?”

“Because we know each other?”

He glances at you. “Huh? How?”

You only shrug suspiciously. “Secret. But I didn’t know you two were related...”

Sunwoo makes a face, confused, but the noise outside gets your attention.

“Dinner’s ready!! Come eat!!” his mother’s shout echoes through the walls.

ꔫ

“You’re so lucky to have a mother to cook such good food for you.”

Sunwoo looks down at his bowl. “Yeah, I know.”

His mother smiles at you, asking curiously, “what about your family, y/n?”

You swallow before speaking. “Oh, they live farther away. I came here to dance, so I don’t really see them often.”

She gasps. “You poor thing, living out here all alone. Come over whenever you want, okay?”

Sunwoo opens his mouth to respond but decides to just close it. You smile and nod gratefully, feeling a lot more at ease.

When you finally finish eating, sunwoo’s eager to guide you out -even though you disregard his attempts so you can charm his mother even more.

The number of times during the dinner his mother has hinted at the two of you being a couple and the number of times sunwoo has denied that there was anything at all were too many to count.

And then he eventually gets you to leave, shutting the door close once and for all.

Sunwoo almost collapses, making exaggerated sounds of exhaustion and relief.

He sprawls out on the living room floor, completely tuning out his mother’s complaints about his manners and whatnot.

But as he lays there, he can only think about his heart. Why does it do that? Whenever you look at his mom with such tender eyes. When you’re acting so kind and respectful, but still being yourself. Eyes crinkling when someone says anything remotely funny.

Why does his heart stir so much when you spare even a glance at him?

ꔫ

After that, you get extremely busy. Upcoming dance competitions and events take up most of your day.

That leads to barely any rest for you since you’re constantly in and out of the studio, practicing, practicing, and more practicing.

You’d be lucky to even get 4 hours of sleep a day.

But the one night you can finally close your eyes for maybe a solid 5 or 6 hours, (you were so excited you even leaped into bed) your fucking phone rings.

You want to kill whoever is calling you at a deathly time. It was only 1 am, but your sleep is too precious.

At first, you ignore it. But it rings a freakin second time, and now you’re unable to fall back asleep.

Biting your lip harshly, you angrily grab your phone, turning it on to see-

three missed calls from sunwoo?

It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, so you have no idea why he’s calling you and wasting your hard-earned rest.

The phone rings again. Your brain can barely function, but you manage to accept the call.

“What the fuck do you want? My beauty sleep-“

“Are... are you busy?” His voice is quiet, maybe too quiet.

You want to slap him through the phone but alternately just let out a strained huff. “Does it seem-“ but you don’t finish.

Something didn’t seem right. You’re fully awake now.

“Sunwoo? What’s going on?”

There’s a pause before his voice comes through again.

“Can I see you? I’m actually out near your place.”

It takes five minutes for you to get out of bed, throw on a jacket and close the door behind you.

Head whipping from side to side, you search around.

Your palms start to get sweaty even though the night was frigid, cold wind blowing past.

Where is he? His voice....felt off. You could sense it even through the phone.

Briskly walking, you keep looking until you spot him.

Well, Sunwoo was right. He was sitting down alone at a park about 5 minutes away from your apartment.

Your anger rises again as you approach him.

“What the fuck is going on?“

Your feet slow as your voice lowers to a whisper.

“What....what’s wrong?”

You rush over to him, forgetting everything and cupping his face in your warm hands.

Sunwoo looks at you, his red and watery eyes void of any emotion. How long has he been out here?

“Kim sunwoo, you-“

He cuts you off.

“Why does she not like me back?” His voice is soft, shaky. It’s like he doesn’t have enough strength to say it any louder.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you swallow. Your mind races, seeking any words to make a sentence, just to say anything.

“Is there something wrong with me? Did I-can she just look at me for once?” his voice cracks. You watch as the tears slowly trickle down his cold cheeks.

His voice lowers to a whisper. “I’ve been her friend for so long, and she never noticed me and all the things I did for her. I waited, and it was too late. Y/n, I tried. I really tried.”

You can hear the cracking of his heart.

When the sobs start, you only hold your breath and wrap your arms around him. You let sunwoo cry into you, even when you so desperately want to cry for him too.

Shutting your eyes, you rub his back comfortingly.

It feels like it’s been an hour. Or a couple, who knows.

And when the cries ultimately slow, you slowly move back, cautiously glancing at him. His swollen eyes and red nose cause your chest to tighten.

You speak in a hushed tone, almost afraid to speak louder as if it’ll make him break.

“How do you feel?”

He laughs a small but painful sound. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have called you out at this time. I can tell you’re exhausted. Just leave and get some sleep.”

You’re frustrated. You don’t want to be, especially not right now, but the feeling crawls all over you, uncomfortable and itchy.

You stand up, staring into him with fierce eyes. “Stop worrying about me. Stop worrying about others. You always look out for everyone else but yourself. Can’t you see that you’re hurting, and I just want to help?”

You regret saying that almost immediately, sinking down onto the bench next to him. The only sound is his occasional sniffles and coughs.

Sunwoo’s shocked. But he tries not to show it.

Instead, he stares at the trees. The streetlights. And eventually you.

“You’re right.” You jump slightly when he speaks up.

“As usual,” he chuckles.

“So thank you for coming here. I don’t know what was going on with me. I think I was just going through a lot and needed to let it out.”

You’re still not looking at him, but your hand inches over slowly to cover his. Surprisingly, he accepts the warmth.

No words are exchanged, but it’s enough. A silent apology. A silent sense of comfort.

A bout of laughter across the street gets your attention. It’s just an annoying couple, you think.

But... it’s not just any annoying couple. No. Are you serious?

Their voices fly over the wind, going in one ear and out the other. “Wait a second. Is that sunwoo over there?”

He tenses, eyes frantically looking at you. You immediately understand.

It’s happened many times to you- how embarrassing and humiliating it is to get caught crying. Even when crying is supposed to be a normal and natural thing. And then comes the hilarious made-up explanation behind the whole waterworks.

You can’t imagine how it must be for sunwoo.

The sound of their footsteps come closer.

You scoot closer to him.

Thump.

Your hand slowly reaches out. He doesn’t move, almost as if entranced by your actions.

Thump.

Sunwoo watches, confused as your hand guides his head, burying him into your shoulder and efficiently blocking anyone’s view of his crying face.

Thump.

“Pretend to be asleep,” you murmur.

He closes his eyes, inhaling your familiar scent.

“Oh! It’s you again!”

You smile awkwardly at sunwoo’s crush, even though you kinda want to scream at her for causing him so much pain.

Then your gaze shifts to him. You’ve never seen her ex before, only hearing stories from sunwoo. So this is him...

“Hello. I’m afraid we’ve never met before? You seem close to sunwoo.”

“Oh, my name is y/l/n y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you. Why... why are you two out so late?”

They exchange looks. “We were just hanging out, and lost track of time, haha. You know...” she laughs. “And you two? I see he’s asleep. Sunwoo was always sleeping in class..”

You feel him just barely move.

You grimace and give a small smile. “Ha, sunwoo here was drinking and fell asleep. That reminds me, I should probably get him home. It’s late, so you guys should go too.”

You don’t know, but they see the loving way you look down at sunwoo, pretending to shake him awake to leave.

When he only groans in response, you curse him. What a sneaky little.....

Biting the inside of your cheek, you can barely haul sunwoo up, placing his arm around your shoulder. Didn’t know you were so good at acting, troublemaker.

They move to help you, but you quickly and aggressively protest, groaning as you weakly step forward.

“Well,” you barely get out, “it was nice to meet you. Maybe we can meet again under better circumstances,” you wheeze.

Once you make sure they’re out of sight, you drop him onto the ground, gasping for air.

“You couldn’t have even helped a little?”

His still red eyes and small pout make you soften.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

His voice is quiet but still teasing. “Why? So you can find out where I live, stalker?”

You roll your eyes. “Okay. I’m going then.”

“Wait.” He grabs your wrist. “That was a joke. I want you to take me.”

You fight against the ends of your mouth that want to curl up. “Fine... only since I don’t want you running into them again.”

When he randomly takes your hand, enlacing your fingers together, you keep silent. It stays like the for the whole walk, peaceful and tranquil. It makes you think of that time he offered to walk you home from that creepy date. How different it seems now...

Once you arrive, he lets go of your hand normally like he always does it or something. But you still miss the snugness.

“How you’re gonna get home?”

“Walk. Why? You know I can take care of myself.”

He smiles, the first one you’ve seen today. “Yeah. I know.”

Before you leave, you inhale. “Cheer up, alright? It makes me feel weird, seeing you so down. Get some sleep, trouble.”

After making sure he gets in safely, welcomed by a worried eric, you start the cold and lonely journey home.

ꔫ

Once you finally arrive, truly exhausted from the night’s(day’s?) events, you lay in bed and contemplate.

Why does your heart hurt so much for him?

Why do you even care?

You take out your phone, opening it to sunwoo’s profile photo, the cute pout on his face along with your scarf blindfolding his eyes makes you smile.

It takes a little bit of thinking-staring at the ceiling and searching your brain for possibly hours, but the answer finally appears. Even when you don’t want it, trying to push the thought out and bury it so deep you can’t breathe, it echoes in your brain, loud and clear.

How?

No, this isn’t possible. He-I’ve known him for less than a year.

I... I can’t.

You feel suffocated underneath the blankets, doing anything to stop the flow of your thoughts, feelings.

The one thing you can do is force yourself to pass out, to escape the hurricane of emotions.

ꔫ

And just like that, you disappear from sunwoo’s life. For a couple of weeks. It was, sadly to report, very much boring and bleak.

It was harder than you realized. To shut someone out. Someone like him.

Luckily, your upcoming dance performances took most of your day, so the only time he was able to sneak into your mind was during the dark of nights and the peak of dawn.

First, it was ignoring the messages. You wondered how people could simply ghost someone else so easily.

But you had to. Because you knew he liked someone else. Because you shouldn’t be like this, whatever this is, with him.

You did it for yourself. And him. Even when everything about him was confusing.

Kim sunwoo was a troublemaker. One you met months ago with a strong one-sided crush. And you wanted to help him win her heart.

Now, you couldn’t even look at Sunwoo. You didn’t want to, not wishing to know what would happen if you looked into his eyes. What words would spill out of your mouth, words you didn’t even know the truth to yet.

Second was avoiding him at any cost. Especially when he came to your dance studio, obviously looking for you and only you. (it was a whole mess sneaking out from his sight)

And once again, fate loves to mix things up and make you spot sunwoo with his crush down the street. Holding hands.

You go home with mixed emotions and a missing appetite.

The sad thing is, you can’t tell if you miss him or not.

ꔫ

One evening, just as colorless as the nights before, you go out for a walk.

You always went later than most to avoid human contact with others. But fate plays a trick again, so you’re not alone this time.

“I found you.”

Your feet come to a halt. Or maybe it wasn’t fate this time...

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you, sunwoo.” Funny how you suddenly have the urge to run away after saying that.

He looks tired, stressed-like he can’t find the answer to any of his homework questions (but you know he probably didn’t even do his homework in school).

“So ignoring my calls and texts aren’t considered avoiding? And running away whenever you see me in person too?”

You mess with the ends of your hair. “Why were you looking for me?”

Sunwoo sighs and starts walking, you know he’s waiting for you to join. Hesitating, you finally move to his side, deciding to stare at the ground -your feet, his feet, anywhere but him.

“I came to tell you something,” He starts.

You gulp, nodding for him to say it.

“I confessed to my crush. She was... really surprised. But I still asked her to give me a chance, to please think of me as a guy and not a friend. Just three dates with me. And then she could see how she felt at the end.”

Why do you suddenly want to vomit?

You find looking anywhere but at sunwoo or near his direction comfortable. The amount of effort it took for you to find your voice was funny. “Oh. Good for you.” (unlike your tone that doesn’t sound too pleased)

“...How was it? Did she decide to return your feelings back in the end?”

“No. We never finished all three. After the second, I realized it was a waste of time and quit.”

He stops walking, making you stop as well.

This man messes with your mind too much. You snort. “What are you talking about? How could it be a waste of time when you finally got to go on a true date with your crush since high school, sunwoo?”

“Because I kept thinking of something else. Someone else.”

You’re extremely confused, not able to comprehend anything. Sunwoo suddenly looks at you with such conviction you almost take a step back.

“Is... there something wrong?”

“I wished it was you, instead. Instead of her next to me. Even on the very first date, I was only thinking of you.”

Your brain -it just doesn’t work anymore. You’re looking at him, standing in front of you -but somehow you still can’t see him. What?

“I like you, y/n.”

Your mind is reeling, adrenaline rising.

No, he’s confessing to the wrong person.

Is this a good or bad feeling? I don’t know...

Sunwoo doesn’t notice your reaction, too shy and focusing on the trees instead of your face.

“I realized it when we stopped meeting. That I missed your company .”

Your voice is quiet. “Suddenly?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Yes, but you’ve always been in my head. I just didn’t want to admit it because she was in there for so long. I didn’t want to give her up, and I didn’t want to move on. But then I met you, and suddenly I wasn’t missing her so much.”

You swallow, preparing to say something in return, but sunwoo quickly speaks up a second time, hand on his chest.

“But-! Uh, you’re not a replacement for her. It’s different. How I feel. I really do like you.”

Sunwoo doesn’t know how you snuck your way into his heart, letting him breathe fresh air and become anew. He’s only ever liked one person for so long -kept space for only her deep in his heart, that’s why he couldn’t figure out it was you who stole it.

He repeats the confession, this time sounding more confident and assertive.

When you don’t say anything back, he begins panicking. Was I wrong? Did I only assume-?

“Sunwoo,” you start, looking at him uncertainly.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think I could like you too..”

Sunwoo doesn’t get his hopes up just yet, waiting for the catch. There’s always one.

“But maybe we should wait. Give each other a little space and time apart, I mean. For you to completely get over her and for me to figure and sort everything out. I think that would be best for us,” you finish in a whisper.

You’re scared. At his reaction -his current thoughts.

“Okay.”

You quickly look up at him, startled.

There’s a strange easy and light smile on his face. “I get it. I’ll wait for you. I’ve done a lot of waiting, so I can do it for a little more.”

Your heart almost breaks when he says that, but you know it’s for the best.

Just give me some time, please.

ꔫ

When you said a little space, you didn’t mean two days.

And you sure weren’t expecting him to show up at your dance studio.

“Sunwoo? What are you doing here???”

“Ah, well, l thought we could just walk home together. I-I’ll walk you home, I mean..”

Your whole body aches, and you feel a tiny bit annoyed, but you still can’t find it in your heart to reject him. And so sunwoo takes you back home.

After that day, he would go almost everytime to pick you up whenever you had dance practice. Sometimes you would go with him, and sometimes you wouldn’t. (but 98% of the time you couldn’t reject him). Maybe you felt a little bad, but sunwoo seemed so happy and excited whenever he saw you, you just couldn’t not go with him.

You still had plenty of moments apart. Sunwoo would only ever walk you home and chat, the occasional grabbing food and drinks on the way back. (You didn’t consider them big enough to be dates-not yet, at least.)

Every time he would wait and stand in the waiting room, a bunch of the other dancers would be either fangirling over him or teasing you two whenever you came out to meet him.

You totally did not feel that wave of jealousy after seeing all of the staring girls. But you were very satisfied to see the looks on their faces when sunwoo would ignore them and go straight to you.

And you won’t lie -it felt nice. To have sunwoo waiting for you every day, even though you could reject him at any moment.

You would never.

Even though technically you two were on a ‘break that wasn’t really considered a break’, your time alone was mostly taken up by the upcoming dance show.

It was just a little showcase. But of course, sunwoo insisted on going.

You were the most nervous you’ve ever been -the most nervous sunwoo had ever seen you. It had been a while since you last performed, and for some reason, you felt so different preparing this time around, which is why you basically lived at the studio for a month.

The day of the show finally arrives, and you want to pull your own hair out. Sunwoo was only able to see you briefly before you were dragged along to rehearsals, and in that short time, he shot you a thumbs up, and you sent a small, extremely nervous smile back.

When your name was called, and you walked onto the stage, heart almost bursting out of your chest, somehow you were able to find sunwoo in the crowd.

It lasted for a second, but you were able to capture his excited but still reassuring eyes cheering you on, the clapping and yells coming from his mouth.

And that’s how you were able to perform beautifully, dance to the greatest extent. The feeling of fulfillment when you finished along with the immediate applause and sunwoo’s loud hollers sparked something inside.

That could be why you didn’t care. Didn’t care about jumping off the stage and running over to sunwoo, the shocked look on his face making you laugh.

But he still holds his arms out, and you basically fly into them.

Sunwoo lets out a grunt, holding you tight as you laugh and bury your face into his shoulder.

He pulls back, eyes sparkling. “You did amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

You're unable to form any words back, only able to stare into his eyes.

His face is a lot closer than you realized...

You can feel your heartrate rising again.

Sunwoo leans in, you think? and your eyes close even though you’re not sure what’s even going on.

“Y/n!!! Great job!!”

You snap out of your daze, turning around to see who it was.

Sunwoo curses the random guy -he thinks it’s the director of the show or whatever. He doesn’t care at all for the person that rudely interrupted your moment together.

And when you follow the director after, totally distracted with the aftermath of the show and leaving sunwoo behind, he can only pout.

Maybe next time...

ꔫ

You finally got to sleep. Properly. The show left in the back of your head, set there as a significant memory to stay forever.

After you start getting back into the groove of normal dance practices, Sunwoo comes to pick you up as usual.

But today was not a usual day.

“Sorry Sunwoo, I have someone to meet today. Maybe Thursday?”

You frown at his obviously fallen face. Hopping in front of him, you pout cutely.

“Don’t be sad, I’ll see you soon. And we can get food too!”

He stands there, frozen.

Checking the time, you realize ‘shit-you’re gonna be late.’

“Bye, sunwoo. Don’t forget Thursday!!” You wave goodbye, running along.

Sunwoo gives five minutes to compose himself. Even though he desperately wants to fall on the ground and roll in agony from what you did to his heart, he simply breathes in, out.

He’s for sure disappointed he isn’t able to walk you home, but after that cute act.... sunwoo thinks he can let it go. Only for today.

The mysterious place you were supposed to be at was a cafe. (a nice one with also great reviews online.) You run in, lighting up when you spot the person you invited out.

“Hi! How have you been?”

You offer a small smile. “Doing well. And you?

Sunwoo’s- well, you suppose former crush now- beams. “Good! What about sunwoo? I-uh, haven’t seen him recently.” The knowing look in her eye makes you nervously laugh.

“He’s fine too. I didn’t tell him about our meeting today. Did you?”

“Oh, no- don’t worry. It’s a secret between us!”

You’re pleased, but the reason you asked to meet was not for small talk.

“Well, I’m not sure if you know the reason I asked you out here..”

She nods, waiting.

“But basically, I knew about Sunwoo’s longtime crush on you. The funny thing is, I was actually trying to help him win you over... but that obviously did not happen.”

She bursts out laughing, and eventually, you join in too.

“Wow, I’m sorry,” her tone turns more serious.

“But yeah. I was... really shocked, to say the least. That he liked me. I honestly never thought of him like that, and I’m guessing you know about the dates that we went on then?”

You nod sheepishly.

“That was also really strange for me. It was just a lot, you know? And my ex also came back from overseas -you met him that one time. So there was just a lot of feelings going on all at once.”

She takes your hand, squeezing it gently.

“And even though I don’t like sunwoo that way, I’m glad that you’re here for him. I can tell you two really like each other. Even though it wasn’t your original intentions.”

Those words strangely comfort you. Like the chained truth you already knew was finally released.

“I don’t mean to pry,” you start, “but what’s up with you and your ex then? I saw you two were out and around together?”

You don’t fail to notice her reddening cheeks. “Ah, about that... He just came back so suddenly... and right as I got over him. but we’re spending more time together, and ugh, I don’t know.”

The smile on her face says otherwise. It makes you smile as well.

“I wish you luck, then.”

“And I wish you luck with sunwoo too!”

You weren’t expecting to gain a new friendship that day as well.

ꔫ

Now that everything seemed cleared and out of the air, you had more time.

To think. Reflect. Focus on what your ideal life is like.

Is it one that includes Kim Sunwoo? Waking up next to him, having the ability to make fun of him 24/7, being able to press your lips onto his whenever, wherever?

And when the answer finally comes, it’s another sunny afternoon with Sunwoo waiting for you after class.

The day was nice. And you feel nice too, strangely happy. He notices.

“What’s got you looking so upbeat for? Is it seeing my face?”

“No,” you happily respond, laughing at his offended face.

“It’s nothing. Let’s just go to the park.”

He’s confused but smiling as well.

“Okay. How was your day?”

You chat along the walk to the park.

“-did I make you wait long? What time did you get to the studio?”

He frowns, taking the phone out of his pocket to check the time. Your legs stop working when you see what his lock screen is.

“Sunwoo?”

He grunts.

“Is your lock screen... a picture of us?”

He fiddles with the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Changmin sent that picture of us at the restaurant to me, and then I-uh changed it.”

You try, oh so hard, to fight that bashful smile attempting to break free on your face. Thank goodness sunwoo was walking a few steps ahead.

ꔫ

When you arrive, sunwoo finds a bench, and you plop down next to him with a content sigh, staring at the view.

You purposely picked this park because of its location, higher up so it overlooked the city. It was peaceful and beautiful, above all the commotion.

“You know Sunwoo, I think I found what I want to do.”

He looks at you, curious. “Which is?”

“I want to dance.”

“But you already do that?”

“Yes, you’re right. But I also want to teach others too. Like a dance instructor. That day when I taught you that routine was fun.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t fun because you were with me?” You flick him playfully.

“What about you then? Did you ever meet up with your ex-crush after that whole mess?”

Sunwoo scoffs, looking down. “It wasn’t a mess...” he mumbles.

“No... it was,” you wish to say, but your lips remain zipped.

“But yeah. We made up. I’m glad that she’s still my friend and our relationship is better now. To be honest, I think I’ve known since the beginning that she never liked me that way. I just was too scared and prideful to admit it.”

“Well, isn’t that a good thing?” His eyebrow quirks up at your words.

“What do you mean?”

“That you never stopped liking her.”

He looks at you, truly confused.

“Because you got to meet me.“

You expect him to retort back with something mocking back but he actually looks down at his shoes, smiling. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You lean back on the bench, relaxed and peaceful.

“Anyways, what about you? Did you find a passion or dream you wanna pursue?”

“Actually, I did.”

You sit up. “Really?”

He suddenly looks shy. “I kinda want to get into producing. Music.”

You look at him, interested.

“After we met up at your dance place, it made me think of my old trainee life.”

You cut him off. “Wait- I never asked why you quit being a trainee.”

“Oh. I just fell out of it. Being an idol just didn’t seem like it was for me anymore. But after seeing you reach your dancing dreams, it made me inspired. I started writing lyrics and rapping again for fun. Then I realized I really liked it. And producing music was always a hobby,” Sunwoo continues to ramble on.

You listen with a soft smile. And he eventually notices, stopping his tangent. “What is it?”

Smile growing, you tilt your head to the side and state, “I support you. You should totally do it.”

Sunwoo feels warmth bloom in his chest. Another reason for him to fall in love with you even more. Yes, he was sure that he loved you. But sunwoo didn’t want to say it just yet.

He was waiting for you.

“Thank you, y/n.”

You nod, suddenly picking at your fingers distractedly.

“But I don’t know... I think right now I just really want to go out with you, Kim Sunwoo.”

He chokes on air, looking around almost as if to make sure this is actually reality before taking your hand. “What-no. Are you serious?”

“Yes. Let’s go on a date.”

You say it so casually he thinks he must’ve misheard you or whatever. But he didn’t.

For you, it just happened. The night before you were laying in bed, and he just popped up in your dream. A wonderful dream that was like your ideal life came true-even when sunwoo appeared you didn’t question it one bit. A dream where you were able to remember everything fully when you woke up this morning.

And so it was decided. It had to be it, right? You definitely liked the troublemaker Kim Sunwoo.

When you look away at some point, he pumps a fist in the air, elated and barely restraining a yell of happiness.

You turn around. “Are you alright?”

He quickly straightens up. “Yep. Good. Just fine. Doing great, actually.”

You smile, eyes crinkling. “Okay.”

But you couldn’t suppress the feeling,

-of hunger. Today was a long practice, and you needed energy.

“Sunwoo, let’s go. I’m hungry.” You take his arm, trying to pull him up.

He easily gets up, adjusting his hold on your hand. But you don’t mind.

This has to be a dream right? Sunwoo thinks. The happiness he feels from seeing you-a once stranger that he poured all his feelings out to-turn into someone he trusts with his life, his heart.

Walking down the sidewalk together, you speak up.

“Did I make you wait too long?”

He scoffs, free hand raised to his face in a supposedly cool expression. “Nah, if it’s you, I could wait forever.”

You cringe, letting go of his hand in an instant.

He almost immediately protests.

You wanted to shut him up. There was one way that you believed would be very effective. It just took a little preparation.

Gathering the confidence, you kiss him on the cheek, mid-protest.

Sunwoo’s surprised expression makes you laugh. But that laugh is cut short when he suddenly pulls you closer, your noses barely touching.

You can feel your heart pounding- he can probably feel your heart pounding. But it’s okay because his is too.

When he leans in the tiniest amount, your eyes flutter shut, holding your breath and waiting.

Until he starts chuckling softy, and you peek an eye open.

It makes your face heat, the way he stares at you with such adoration, and possibly love?

You huff, turning and beginning to walk away. “If you’re not gonna kiss me, then just leave.”

You hear his protests but also his laughter that echo through your body.

“I didn’t know you were such a baby,” he comments, snatching your hand and spinning you around once more so his arms can encompass you.

His eyes bore into yours, occasionally flicking down to your mouth and back up again.

Maybe you were just a little impatient, so you lean in, just barely hovering over his lips.

His grip around you tightens. Who’s the baby now?

And then he finally closes the gap, letting his soft lips glide over yours.

It’s just... Sunwoo. All you can see, even with your eyes closed, is him. All you can feel is him. Everything is sunwoo.

And you think you love it.

When you break the kiss reluctantly a couple of seconds later, sunwoo’s eyes flick open, staring back at you indignantly.

“What? Let’s go eat. I said I was hungry.”

“Was this not enough?” he grins cheekily.

You slowly lean into his ear, whispering, “No, it wasn’t.”

You grin at the way he shivers, your warm breath tickling his ear.

“That’s why we’re going to get food now. And you’re paying as usual,” you finish, basking in the fact that Sunwoo is rendered speechless.

You like how your hand easily finds his, fitting perfectly together as you drag him along.

Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.

Wherever you fall, I’ll pick you back up.

Wherever you can’t, I’ll love you instead.

taglist: @elcie-chxn @00seonu @mochinyu

a/n: if you made it to the end of this, i sincerely applaud and thank you :) after the end of that drama i couldn’t stop my feelings and had to write this but then it kinda turned into a whole fic 🤡

also can’t believe i wrote this much-sunwoo constantly in the brain 😶.

#ig we'll never find out the secret between reader and sunwoo's sister o.o?#the boyz #kim sunwoo #sunwoo #the boyz sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #kim sunwoo scenarios #kim sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fluff

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mymegumi · 4 years ago

Text

i’m just passing the time

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

genre: angst

word count: 1.1k words

warnings: toxic relationship, smoking, swearing & suggestive themes

notes: my goal is to never write a happy gojo piece /j anyways he’s just such an easy char to write angst for for me lol. i’m going to be honest this doesnt make sense to me but also it’s five am so i’m gonna post it now and then probs delete it when i wake up lol

When you left, you always said it would be the last time.

But you came back to him with a sneer on your lips, and the promise that ‘this time would be it for sure’ because you were independent, you didn’t need him.

Gojo Satoru was many things, but one of them was not an idiot.

When he’d left high school as one of the strongest sorcerers known to man, he hadn’t been an idiot. When he became the strongest sorcerer known to the urban Japan area, he hadn’t been an idiot. So, when you walked right back to his front doorstep that only enough people to count on one had known, he had definitely not been an idiot.

You were the only thing that he had allowed himself outside of his world, the only piece that he allowed himself to keep that would keep him normal.

And maybe that was where the problem stemmed from, the fact that instead of seeing you as another person, another human being with feelings so dissimilar to his own, he allowed himself to instead see you just as a tool to make himself feel more mortal than he often felt.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” you whispered against the curve of his neck, hands curled into snow white hair that curls at the ends, “I just needed to relieve stress. This is the last time.”

Gojo didn’t even bother responding, instead he had molded his lips to the junction of your jaw. Despite all your promises of leaving, of walking out of his life and not coming back, he’d found that you were inclined to make fickle promises and were almost too untrustworthy when it came to him. He’d never complained, though, more than willing to invite you into his life, to hold you in his grasp for as long as he liked.

To hold onto you until he got bored.

“You’re a jackass,” you had muttered it under your breath, but he had better hearing than most—out of necessity than his own choice, “a fucking jackass with no morals and the reason you don’t have anyone close to you is because you’re too afraid to let them in.”

Your eyes were red rimmed, tears pooled at the base of your waterline as you had allowed your hands to ball into tights fists at your side. There was a tremble in the bottom of your lip, one that allowed Gojo to know how close you truly were to spilling, but he said nothing. He just continued smoothing his hand along the back of his date.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said it plainly after a moment of silence, as if he were just talking about the weather with a stranger, and yet it seemed to be the last push you needed, tears spilling from your eyes like you had no care for who saw.

You take a deep breath in, eyes steadily watching him and he has to commend you for your composure, because despite the years, he’d had more than one partner blow up at him for his decision to leave them behind.

You were just a passing fad for him, another person to keep him distracted from the fact that the world might be obliterated if he were to scramble the cards in his hands. Another tether to the fact that he was still of the mortal world, as opposed to the god-like feeling he often had when he was surrounded by those who put him on a pedestal he’d never asked to be raised to.

Your lips pulled into a tight line as you tilted your head back, nose pointed towards the ceiling, “This is it. This is the last time, Gojo.”

His expression transformed into something that one could describe as apathetic as he licked at his lips, mouth suddenly dry. “If that’s what you want, of course.” His hand rested idly at the girl’s shoulder, mind going blank on her name now that he saw your retreating figure, blue eyes hidden behind transparent black watching the outline of your silhouette leave much longer than completely normal for someone breaking things off.

But you always came back.

You had come back the time you had caught him smoking again, voices clashing against each other like titans when he had called you overbearing. Despite his promises of quitting, of doing better, he had found himself sticking to the vice like a man on a raft, desperate for something to make him feel.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that his phone would have your number flashing on it—not saved for your safety, he had told you at the inquiry, but he knew you didn’t believe him, instead choosing to keep quiet. You would text him on a stormy Tuesday afternoon after you got off of your job that made you feel insignificant because all you seemed to do was useless, but being with Gojo made you feel alive.

You would text him on a sunny Thursday morning, asking to see him because you were unsure about where you stood with him. He was sure of it, after a Tuesday evening passed and transformed into a mellow-weathered Wednesday, before the night had shifted to the next day again. He was sure you would call him again, requesting just to go back to the way you had been before, all no-strings attached and lovers without requirements.

Gojo doesn’t get a text from you for the next month.

When you did text him, he knew almost immediately that it wasn’t meant for him. Too filled with warmth, words laced with too much love and adoration for a relationship that had been purely transactional, as yours had been. Reading between every word, eyes searching along the tones you had never used with him, Gojo feels something twang in his heart, melancholy and tinged with something he can’t put his finger on.

“Is this it?” He asked himself, because despite everything, you were still an anchoring point. If he were to throw out his line, he always knew you would tug on it, pulling until you drew him into your waters.

But it’s his fault. He knew it somewhere in the deepest parts of himself that he was the one to blame, because despite the fact that you depended on him openly, he depended on you in secret. He didn’t open his world to you because he was afraid, he was afraid of what it would mean to admit to you that he needed you more than he’d like to admit.

He was afraid that when he turned his back on you, to protect himself from the hurt that you could’ve caused him, you would mold your own life. A life without space for him in it.

More than anything, he had taken for granted that while he had just been passing the time, ignoring the fact that while he had thought you were falling in love, you were drifting away from him.

Maybe he had been the one falling in love.

#jjk gojo satoru #gojo x you #jujustu kaisen gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst

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twilightofthe · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, could you make a 'drunk Anakin' headcanon? <33

Oh boy! Yeah, I can!

DRUNK ANAKIN:

Everyone can have whatever headcanons they want ok, I won't stop you, but this is mine lol

He is the LIGHTEST of lightweights

Look it's just something about being the Chosen One that makes him feel things Really Strongly, and said things include being super drawn to Weird Objects You Should Not Fucking Touch Ahhnakin, animal emotions and they feel his in return which causes him to nearly get his face bitten off way more than he likes, and ALCOHOLIC CONTENT. Goes to his head SUPER quickly

So yeah no matter how much he tries to build up a tolerance, Anakin can and will get drunk like, super easily, so he needs to watch himself

Of course, this is Anakin Skywalker, and we know he and impulse control don't exactly mix

So yeah he tends to get at least tipsy whenever he gets a drink

Now, Anakin doesn't drink too often, but if he's offered some on a mission, or if he sees Obi Wan doing it like, at all lmao, or the clones are going out to the bar, or if Padmé has some liquor to try, then yeah, he's gonna drink too

Generally the results depend on who he's with and how good they are at cutting him off if he decides he's not gonna watch himself

Anakin has like three stages of drunkenness

First stage is right when the drink starts kicking in. Then he's usually still Anakin, just Anakin in slow-motion. It takes him longer to register words that have been spoken to him, his words are drawn out ever so slightly, and there's a lot of slow blinking like a lazy cat who's been woken up from a sunbath. Don't try to get the drop on him though, somehow his reflexes are STILL sharp as ever

Then, that's when the second stage hits: the limited filter he possesses DISAPPEARS. Everything is pure and brutal honesty. You better not have a funny-looking face or he Will tell you so. He will mother hen poor Rex who looks like he doesn't eat enough apparently, and Obi Wan is subject to LOTS of pets and informing rants about how shiny his hair is, did you notice Obi Wan? Did you? It GLOWS. He'll tell shittier jokes than usual because in all honestly he thinks they're funny, and yeah, it's Anakin but Unfiltered

And then he gets quieter, finally, and you think he wants to sleep, but no, that's just stage three kicking in, and that is the melancholy. The depression. He REALLY should stop drinking now because now acknowledging the honesty means acknowledging all the hard truths (truths from his point of view, anyway) that he buries and hides from every day, and at this point he's too fuckin' lazy and wasted to get angry over them, so now he's just gonna lie there and let the entire angst wagon run him over and then mope about it

He's still talking though, and it is definitely at this point that whoever he's with will finally cut him off and figure out a way to get him back to a bed to sleep because this is sad and sad Anakin is like a kicked puppy if the puppy was the size of Godzilla and still had atomic breath

At this point he very much does prefer to be carried places-- when he's gone and gotten himself drunk for stupid reasons Padmé can and will create a makeshift sled out of fabric and drag his whiny ass off because unlike Obi Wan or one of the clones or even Ahsoka who can all pick him up, she unfortunately cannot --and Obi Wan always makes sure to rest his head over his shoulder-- firstly because in this position his stomach is less likely to expel its contents and secondly because it makes both of them feel some kind of safety and security when Anakin leans in and tucks his head against Obi Wan's soft shoulder

Once Anakin finally gets to sleep off the drunkenness, the ONE recompense from the universe for the curse of being an utter lightweight kicks in:

Anakin Skywalker never, never, NEVER, gets a hangover

It doesn't matter how wasted he was the night before, no matter WHAT he drank, he will wake up the next day with a clear head, bright eyes, and completely, perfectly fine

Everyone else who drinks with him wants to absolutely Murder him over it

Unfortunately, he also has a record for not quite remembering what happened the night before tho lol

#so yeah drunken ani boy! fun fun!#thanks for the prompting anon!#one (1) hot mess #anakin skywalker #star wars #sw stuff #ask #asks #anon

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willwriteforhugs · 4 years ago

Text

it’s not okay- hwang hyunjin

boyfriend! hyunjin x reader- one shot !

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst, a little fluffy, full of hyunjin-is-overprotective-syndrome

synopsis: when a stranger on the street makes you uncomfortable with his romantic advances, it takes everything hyunjin has not to kill him right then and there.

warnings: instance of harassment, a *brief* physical altercation, arguing, some cursing

a/n: this fic was requested by a lovely anon! sorry about the wait- i hope you and everyone else enjoy this one. i definitely got carried away with this, but hopefully it’s still what was requested lol. also, if you all have any other requests, feel free to send them in. i like to know i’m writing what you all want to see.

one last thing: a quick disclaimer- all of the events in this story are fictional, and should be taken with a grain of salt. everything that happens here is just my own interpretation of the situation i was presented with. anyways, thank you sm for reading!

- - -

the streets around you bustle with noise. mothers calling for their wandering children, street vendors shouting out prices... the sheer volume of it almost overwhelms you. at your side, your right hand tightens around your boyfriend’s. the last thing you want is to lose him in the crowd... he gives you a gentle squeeze back. words weren’t exchanged, but you understand what he meant: it’s okay, i’m right here.

you really are not a fan of crowds- you never have been, but hyunnie loves the market- and you do too, when it isn’t this packed. but he’s been so busy lately, and the two of you hardly get to go on dates anymore... so when he’d proposed this as how he wanted to spend the afternoon, you couldn’t help but agree to it.

you glance up at him, thankful for the opportunity of distraction. you and hyunjin have been together for more than six months now- and god, you have never been more in love. you’d been in love before- or at least, you think you had. but being with hyunjin... it’s just not the same. the feelings you have for him are ten times the feelings you’d had for anyone back in high school. of course, maybe it’s just because he’s so damn beautiful...

today, for a simple market day, your counterpart is dressed casually. he’s in a plain hoodie and jeans, with his shoulder length hair tucked into a beanie. his face is bare, and you can’t help but smile just by looking at him.

your boyfriend smiles back, looking slightly baffled. “is there something on my face?”

you snort and shake your head. “i can’t just look at you?”

he narrows his eyes playfully. “absolutely not. it makes me suspicious.”

you roll your eyes. “you spend too much time with the boys. i’m not gonna flick you, you know.” you pause. “or shove tissues in your mouth.”

at this, hyunjin huffs a laugh. “alright, that one’s true.”

hyunjin then leads you into a left turn, heading towards a vendor selling fresh hotteok. you follow willingly, realizing that you are indeed a bit hungry. as always, he knew exactly what you needed before even you did.

as your boyfriend places an order, you wander a few feet, wanting to glance into the stall next to you. in order to do so, you have to slip behind the first stall, into a small alleyway that borders the back part of the vendor lines. you peer over into the stall you were looking for. they’re selling handmade dishes- and from what you can see as you strain you neck over the stall, they’re absolutely gorgeous. dainty tea sets made of impossibly thin porcelain line the tables. the intricate floral designs catch your eye, and you know hyunjin would love to look at them. you turn quickly, mouth already forming his name.

“hyunjin-ah, i- oh!” you interrupt yourself with your surprise. in your rush, you’d turned around and run right into another person. your face floods with heat, and if you could, you would have shriveled up and died right there.

“i’m so sorry,” you mumble, bowing frantically. you eyes burn holes into the ground. “i wasn’t paying attention.”

“it’s fine, really.” a masculine voice replies.

you look up, shocked to see that the person you’d run into is a man, and he looks to be around your age. “oh. okay.”

the man is tall- taller than hyunjin, even. he’s got an angry look to him, and you take a step back. but he just smirks. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

he leans against the wall, crossing his arms together. you watch as his eyes rake over you and your body, and you shrink away.

you press your lips together, and the anxiety from before begins to claw it’s way back into your mind. “it’s fine, seriously.” your breathing is uneven, and you desperately want to get back to hyunjin. “but i kinda have to go...”

the man, who is blocking your way, doesn’t budge. “so soon? why don’t you stay and talk with me? you’re so cute, i just gotta get your number, babe.”

your body jerks in reaction to the pet name. who the hell is he calling baby?

you inhale sharply. “please- can i just get by? i’m really alright.”

the stranger takes a step towards you. “come on, why are you so shy? it’s harmless flirting, love...” he reaches out and takes a hold of your wrist. your facade crumbles, and your vision begins to close. you become hyper-aware of how alone you are back in this alleyway. you quickly jerk your hand back, and he relents, freeing your hand. “so jumpy! why? how about we go get a coffee? i know a place, it’s just ten booths-”

“who the hell are you?”

the voice is sharp and temperamental, and beautifully familiar. you hear yourself breathe a sigh of relief. hyunjin's here. thank god.

your boyfriend is now standing a few feet away, sporting an expression of anger and wariness. his eyes flit to the man, then to you. though he doesn’t say it, you can practically hear his voice, asking if you’re okay.

the strange man- who is still standing far too close- speaks up, voice brimming with cockiness. “why do you care?”

you physically cringe at those words. good luck with that one, dude. you just threw gasoline on an open flame.

“get the fuck away from my girlfriend.” hyunjn’s voice is low, but the impact of the words is louder than bombs. his face has gone from wary to furious. “don’t make me say it again.”

the creep takes a step away from you, moving towards hyunjin. “why are you so pissy, pretty boy? got that much to lose?”

you can see the clockwork in your boyfriend’s mind turning. calculating the outcomes.

before anyone can move to stop you, you dart across the apparent no-man’s-land, coming to a stop at hyunjin’s left shoulder. you reach out and rest a hand on it, hoping the action conveys your feelings. when he doesn’t respond, you lean forward and hurriedly whisper in his ear; “please, hyunjin-ah. i’m alright. let’s just go.”

the boy brushes your hand away, and maintains his silence.

“hyunjin.” you say, louder this time. “it’s okay.”

this time, his narrowed eyes flash. “what-no! it’s not okay!” he swivels to face you. “what about that was okay?!”

your chest clenches, and your hand slips forward to clutch at his shirt. your voice comes out cracked. “please, let’s just go.”

the stranger watches the whole interaction with an amused smile on his lips, and the looks sends chills up your spine.

after a moment, hyunjin takes a deep breath and raises his chin. “you’re right, y/n-ah, i’m sorry. let’s just go, my love.”

as the two of you turn to go, the stranger shouts at hyunjin’s retreating back. “where are you going? i didn’t even get your bitch’s number!”

your skin goes cold, and you can feel your boyfriend turn to stone next to you. you inhale, reaching out to stop what you know is inevitable.

hyunjin makes a slow turn on his heel. his gaze is icy, and his tone is even colder. “what the hell did you just say?”

the other man scoffs, and it randomly occurs to you that he might be drunk. or, you think; maybe he’s just a pervert, y/n.

“i said, i didn’t get your bitch’s phone number.”

hyunjin is silent and frozen for a moment. then, with no preamble, he lunges forward.

“hyunjin!” you yelp. but you know- you know there’s no stopping what’s next.

his punch hits the man square in the jaw, and his opponent goes stumbling. you lurch forward, terrified of this escalating.

without looking, hyunjin catches you with his arm and gently shoves you back.

he refocuses on the man on the ground, who is struggling to get up. when he gets close, hyunjin pushes him back down. you watch as he comes to a crouch in front of the fallen man. he hisses his words through his teeth: ��don’t you ever say that shit. calling my girlfriend a bitch... unless you want to get your poor fucking ass handed to you, you never say shit like that again.”

your mouth hangs open in shock, and you stumble forward again, pulling your boyfriend away before he does something he regrets. you drag him back through the booths, and you emerge back at the front of the hotteok stand.

as soon as the connection breaks, hyunjin’s anger disappears, and he looks almost surprised. he reaches over and grasps your hand. “y/n- are you alright?”

you sigh, and even as your eyes sting slightly, you nod your head. the creepy man hadn’t followed the two of you, but you still feel the need to run. you release a shaky breath.

hyunjin leans down and plants a light but lingering kiss of your forehead. when he pulls away, he sighs against your hair. “i’m sorry,” he whispers.

“for what?” you prompt, whispering back.

“for getting carried away. i...i didn’t mean to.”

“it’s okay. i know.” you lean away to meet his eyes. “besides, he was scaring me. so... thank you.”

he offers a bittersweet smile. “okay, baby...” he pauses for a second. “let’s go home?”

you allow a real smile and nod. “yeah. i’d like that.” you pause, deciding to tease him a little. “will you promise to stay and cuddle?”

at this, your lover’s moment of melancholy breaks too. “yes..” he fakes a groan. “if i have to...”

you reach down to hold his hand as the two of you begin walking, initial plans long forgotten. you begin to bicker back. “oh, please. you really act like you don’t enjoy skinship with me.”

he pauses. “how do you know it’s not just to get in your pants?”

you gasp and smack his arm. “don’t say that! i’ll never sleep with you again if you say shit like that!”

hyunjin laughs, and his real, genuine smile warms your heart. “well then i guess i’ll stop. but only because of that threat.”

“oh, really?” you raise your eyebrows.

he gives up immediately, his forehead crinkling slightly. “no. i love you, y/n. i really do. and i promise i will give you all the snuggles when we get back.”

you nod, then lean your head on his arm, inhaling his scent. you’ve never been more grateful for him.

the two of you continue walking, hand in hand. it isn’t for another few minutes that he finally breaks the silence. “so- what do you want for dinner?”

the two of you burst into laughter when you realize you’d never even gotten your hotteok.

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crystaljins · 4 years ago

Text

Finding Christmas again

Characters: Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 21K

Synopsis: After a lifetime’s worth of turbulent and miserable Christmases with your family, you finally make the executive decision to spend this year’s Christmas alone.

However, when you take home a box of old Christmas decorations from your friend’s shop, it seems that this Christmas is set to be different from the others.

ChristmasScarecrow!Tae x human!Reader

Notes: Here it is!!! My contibution to the @thebtswritersclub secret santa (and also their monthly holiday prompt, Holiday/festival)!!! And my secret santa is.... *drum roll*....

Hi @pars-ley, Merry Christmas!!!!! I hope you enjoy your secret santa!!

Anyway, I know the premise sounds weird but bear with me!!!! It’s kinda cute, I promise!!

Rating: PG13

Genre: Fluff, angst

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, fighting, alcoholism, depression, mean step-siblings (OC’s family). Mentions of house break-ins, some kissing and some ANGST, santa is real, really poorly explained world mechanics that are kind of glossed over because I’m lazy LOL

For you, the start of the Christmas season is always marked by Seokjin unboxing the stock for his December-long Christmas sales. Any stock from the previous year that didn’t get sold gets lined up along the shelves along with a few new trinkets here and there. He pulls out a series of dusty cardboard boxes, soft and collapsing from age and within are numerous fraying, gaudy Christmas decorations he likes to string around the shop to give off a bit of a “festive” atmosphere. Of course, an overstocked, tacky dollar store can only be so “festive” but Seokjin never seems deterred.

This year, however, marks a change. You sit amidst towering, overflowing shelves whileJin beams at you over the counter of his tacky dollar store and slides the first of the decrepit and infamous cardboard boxes towards you.

“If you’re being stubborn and insisting on spending Christmas alone this year, at least put up some decorations.” He insists. Hesitantly, you peer inside- the tinsel has lost some of its magnificent sparkly mane, but it’s still passable and there’s a few tangled lights that you know from experience may have a bulb or two blown but are still somewhat useable.

“I guess I could,” you reluctantly agree. Your small apartment could definitely do with a little apartment sprucing. “You’re not going to decorate this year?” You question. Jin shakes his head and beams, gesturing to a series of brand new cardboard boxes, freshly shipped. They’re crisp and upright in a way that makes the old boxes look even more soggy and pathetic.

“I’ve done a little bit of online shopping this year and thought it would be nice to freshen up my decorations. And I know you could use some decorations so I knew my babies would be going to a good home.” He announces, positively giddy with delight. Christmas always leaves Jin on the edge of manic. Starting the month off with his birthday and then finishing it off with the entire world decked out in festivities is like giving him a month-long sugar rush. Nothing says festive season like the terrifying sparkle to his gaze.

“Well... thank you, I guess.” You say. You’re hesitant but grateful. You’re not the kind of person who hates Christmas or thinks the grinch was a victim, but it’s always been a season that didn’t ring as joyful for you as it seemed to for everyone else. After all, for you, Christmas had consisted of you hiding upstairs while your parents had screaming matches while they were still together, and then it had been a mix of being picked on by your step-siblings the years you were stuck with your father, and nursing your mother after she’d get drunk over eggnog and cry over her broken family when you spent it with your mother. Perhaps this is your chance to reclaim the season. “I can load these up in my car and then we can get started hanging up your new decorations?” You suggest, as Jin finishes balancing the till.

Jin nods absently, counting under his breath, before leaning against the counter with a smile.

“That would be absolutely fantastic. Your santa hat is in my office- don’t forget it!” He reminds you. You groan.

“Do we have to do this every year? It’s demeaning.” You complain. Jin nods and then ignores your grimacing, returning to counting the day’s takings.

With a heavy sigh, you take your time loading the boxes into your car, parked out the back of the shop, before ducking into his office. Sure enough, two embroidered Santa’s hats sit haphazardly on Jin’s desk. You tug one over your head and grab the other for him.

You’re not sure when this tradition of helping Seokjin set up his shop for Christmas began. If you’re being honest, you’re not even sure when you started being friends with him, but this has been a yearly tradition since he started the shop, and the closest you’ve ever gotten to Christmas cheer. Your job is to string out the decorations in the least gaudy manner possible while Jin arranges his Christmas stock on his already overflowing shelves.

Back in the shop, Jin has just finished locking up when you come down the stairs at the back. He turns to you and beams, before gesturing to the boxes filled with new decorations.

“Time to put that interior decorator eye to good use, (Y/N)!” He cries, clapping his hands enthusiastically together. You wince- it would take a lot more than some Christmas lights to fix the mess that is Seokjin’s shop. Even a professional interior decorator couldn’t fix this chaotic mess. His shop is ten years past a clearance sale.

Still, you walk over and begin to open up the boxes, sorting through the decorations until you come across an older box. You thought you’d loaded them all, but it looks like you’ve missed one.

“What’s this box, Jin?” You ask, peeling back the lid to find a series of old, musty decorations. Jin pauses in his detangling of some dangling star lights to look over your shoulder.

“Those are the decorations I put up for sale every year that never seem to go. Even the words “clearance” isn’t enough for people to want them.” He sighs, and he’s surprisingly melancholy as he looks upon the unwanted decorations. You’ve never had much to do with the things he chooses to sell- frankly you’re a little afraid with the things you may find should you venture into the labyrinth of his dollar store. Curious, you peel back the cardboard flap and peer inside at the myriad of unwanted decorations.

Oddly, it makes your heart twinge a little, to see the stock that has been stuck gatherinf dust for eleven months. As dramatic as it sounds, you know a thing or two about being unwanted.

Not that your parents ever implied you were unwanted! It’s just hard not to feel that way when you’re born to a couple who want nothing to do with each other. The constant back and forth between your two feuding parents had constantly made you feel more like a “pass-the-parcel” package than a human being.

And when your dad had remarried, he’d always insisted that you were welcome, but it’s not difficult to see how happy he is in his new family. How his stepchildren’s achievements made him smile or how he’d finally achieved the noisy, warm household he’d always dreamed of. The household he never had with you. And now even your mother is trying new things- she’d asked you to come with her to meet the family of her new boyfriend, but you couldn’t bring yourself to suffer through the awkwardness.

That’s why you’d chosen to spend this Christmas alone- because you can’t seem to shake the feeling that you’re an afterthought when it comes to a holiday that involves spending time with your family. You exist, and you share their blood, but they have plans with people they actually chose to be in their lives. You’re welcome along, but not really wanted.

Jin watches the expression on your face with mild interest.

“Do you... want any of them?” He questions tentatively. “They’re a bit gaudy, but you could give them a home?”

You grimace at the ugly decorations- it’s not hard to see why no one wanted them. Tacky, corny baubles and cheap little mantle ornaments that a even a seventy year old grandmother would turn her nose up at.

But despite your general distaste, a tuft of red wool at the corner of the box catches your attention. You reach forward and tug it free.

A Christmas-themed scarecrow toy smiles back at you. Tufts of red, woollen hair peak out beneath his little santa’s hat, and two sewed on black buttons make up his eyes. His mouth is a simple stitched black line, a little upwards curve, and a little paint on upside down triangle makes his nose. He’s dress in a flannel shirt and overalls, but the overalls have a little christmas tree embroidered on the front and his flannel shirt has fluffy cuffs like the ends of a santa shirt. He’s sort of charming, if a little strange- why a christmas scarecrow? What an oddly specific decoration.

“I can kind of see why no one would want these.” You snort, though you don’t put him back. Jin nods sympathetically.

“This little guy has been with me for years. All the other decorations I bought with him eventually got sold but this guy is still unwanted.” He admits, taking the scarecrow from your hands to examine it fondly. “I even tried giving him away for free once but they didn’t want him.”

You bite your lip at that. The two button eyes stare up at you longingly, and for some reason you feel a sense of camaraderie with this stupid, gaudy christmas scarecrow.

If you’re taking a bunch of decorations, why not this guy? He clashes with every instinct you have in terms of decoration, but the thought of him sitting on a shelf, unwanted for a month only to go back in this dusty old box at the end of the year is too depressing for you to handle. With a sigh, you take him back from Jin.

“Might as well, since you dumped all your other old decorations on me.” You sigh.

And you miss the way Jin winks at the little scarecrow when you’re facing away from it.

You actually forget about the decorations for the next few days. They sit in your car, unpacked. You’re busy with work as they rush to wrap up the end of year projects before their deadlines. And it’s not like putting up decorations has a deadline, right? You put them up some time before Christmas and hopefully remember to take them down before February hits.

It’s when Autumn finally draws to a close and the first of December hits that you’re finally motivated to put them up. You’re in a deep clean kind of mood and when you duck out to your car to chuck out the various wrappers and old papers you’ve built up over autumn, you recall the boxes in your boot.

The little Christmas Scarecrow is the first thing you pull out once the boxes are unloaded into your home. The little button eyes gaze up at you mournfully, as if scolding you for leaving him unattended in your car for so long.

“Sorry little guy.” You sigh, straightening and setting him atop your mantle. He looks a little out of place with your decor but it feels right to place him there for some reason. This way he’s in full view of any guests that walk in. “Here. This can be your spot. Front and centre.” You tell him, and from this spot his button eyes look a little less mournful. With a smile, you begin puzzling out how to assemble Jin’s ratty old Christmas tree.

You’re in the middle of a youtube tutorial on how to make your tree appear fuller when your phone lights up with your mother’s contact image.

It takes you a few moments to steal yourself to answer her.

You aren’t on bad terms with your mother or anything. It’s just... for a few years after the divorce, when you probably needed her most, she just wasn’t your mother. And she’s done really well and gotten a lot of help and she’s in a really good place right now, but it’s still hard. It’s hard to talk to either of your parents, really.

“Hey mum.” You finally say as you answer the phone. You can guess what she’s going to ask- every since she found out you wouldn’t be going home for Christmas, she’s been doing her best to convince you otherwise.

“I was just at the store this morning,” she greets you. “And I saw all the ingredients for that christmas cake we used to make when you were small. Do you remember? And we always made it snowman-shaped and you’d cry when we’d eat it.”

You smile at the memory- it’s one of the very few fond ones you have on Christmas. When you were a very young child, before whatever your parents had between them went sour. Before life transitioned into hiding upstairs and trying to block out the sounds of shouting and being bounced back and forth between opposite sides of the country because your mother and father couldn’t even handle being in the same city together.

“I do remember.” You say.

“We could make it!” Your mother urges. “Just think- wouldn’t it be so fun? John has a daughter your age, and she loves to bake! She’s so eager to meet you too- we could-“

“Maybe next year, mum.” You say. “I’m just absolutely slammed at work this year. Besides, I’ll be down for your birthday soon. I’d just rather spend Christmas at home, this year.”

Your mother is silent for a moment. You know she didn’t miss the implications of your statement. When you had first moved out for studying, returning to your parent’s place had been “going home”. Even you’re not sure when avoiding your family for the holidays had morphed into “staying home.”

“I... I’m sorry. I know I keep bringing it up, but I heard from your father that you weren’t going to spend it with him either and I... I don’t like the thought of you alone for Christmas.” She finally says. “I know I’ve failed you in a lot of ways, but I don’t want this to be one of them. John’s wonderful and his family would love to have you. We could make room for you.”

You go quiet for a moment. Your mum is trying her very best. You know that- you know that so well and yet you can’t. You just can’t do it. You don’t have it in you to brave through Christmas with either of your parents and play happy families and pretend that the years of misery didn’t happen. You don’t want a Christmas where people are “making room” for you. You want to have a place that is just inherently yours.

“Next year.” You promise. Next year you’ll have steeled yourself. Next year you’ll have it together. Next year you can try again. Next year you’ll be a little stronger and more resilient and then you can face the mess of your broken family.

Your mother sighs on the other end, in a sad, disappointed sort of way.

“Next year.” She finally says, and there’s a promise in her words. Next year she’ll be better too. She’ll keep trying.

You stay on the phone a little longer, and when you hang up you just spend a moment in your empty apartment. Boxes are sitting, strewn around you and currently the only decoration is your little Christmas Scarecrow.

Oddly, he almost looks judgemental as he peers at you through the buttons.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh, getting to your feet and beginning the process of organising the Christmas decorations. “It’s complicated. You don’t know my mum and I know she loves me and I know she’s trying... but it’s... it’s just complicated, ok?”

You continue to ramble as you finish up your decorations. It’s quite therapeutic, talking to an inanimate object. It almost feels like he’s listening- there’s something warm in the little stitched mouth and button eyes. You and your scarecrow, both unwanted on Christmas day. You tell him about your parent’s divorce, about your past Christmases. About Jin and your friendship with him. About your decision to be alone for Christmas this year because neither of your parent’s offers seemed particularly appealing.

By the time you’ve finish, your apartment actually looks decent. The Christmas tree sits in the corner, decorated with baubles covered in chipped paint and balding tinsel. There’s lights strung across the ceiling and across your mantle and maybe there’s one or two missing spots, and maybe it’s just a little tacky, but it’s warm. It’s home. You’ve carved out a little home for yourself in this apartment, and maybe it’s not perfect, but you like it.

When you fall asleep on the couch, exhausted, you dream of ringing sleigh bells and cheerful Christmas tunes.

You awaken suddenly. Your heart is in your throat.

There’s someone in your apartment. You can hear them rummaging around in the kitchen. You don’t know how they got there, but terror fills you.

The first thing you do is discreetly reach for your phone. You want to call the emergency number but you don’t want the intruder to know you’re awake in case they retaliate. Instead, you shoot a text to Jin.

There’s someone in my house. You text. The response is almost immediate.

I’m on my way. He responds. You resist the urge to groan. You’d told him so that he could call the police, not so that he could play hero.

You roll off the couch and sneak closely to the wall. A metal bat rests there- a housewarming gift from Namjoon when he first learnt you’d be living alone. You never thought you’d have to use it. You never forget to lock your doors and surely no one has the guts to scale a building and come in through your balcony, right?

Still, you’re grateful for it now as you grip the handle tightly between both fists.

Hesitantly and quietly, you inch towards the kitchen. The light is on and you can make out a figure bustling inside.

With a cry, you rush forward, swing the back in a downwards arc.

Only for your terrified intruder to whip around and catch the bat with the palms of his hands. Ignoring the fact that he just caught the full swing of a metal bat without flinching, you try and pull your bat back to tru for another swing.

But he merely tightens his grip on the bat and this gives you time to take in his appearance.

There’s a lot of striking things about the man’s appearance. Bright, brilliantly red hair, the colour of Christmas ribbons and raspberries, a straight, prominent nose. A sharp, well-defined jawline and two warm, dark eyes, almost familiar in their dark shade.

It’s hard to know what to take in first. His startlingly handsome face, his brightly coloured hair, or his outlandish outfit. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look cute in tacky, Christmas themed overalls or a flannel shirt that’s an odd mix of a Santa’s hat and a farmer’s uniform. Complete with the Santa’s hat and the bright red hair, the man could almost be twins with your Christmas Scarecrow.

“Who are you?” You demand. You attempt another futile tug on your bat, but the man’s grip is firm.

“Don’t panic, (Y/N)!” He urges. His voice is deep and velvety but edged with a little terror. Your eyes widen.

“How do you know my name?” You demand. If you weren’t afraid before, you are now.

“Seokjin said it! In the store, a few days ago!” He cries, still pressing firmly against your metal bat. Despite you pressing your whole weight into it, it doesn’t budge a centimetre closer towards him.

“So you’re a stalker?” You cry.

“No!” He counters. “It’s me, (Y/N)! The scarecrow!”

That startles you enough to relax your grip on the metal bat. He senses the lapse in your grip and tugs the metal bat free. He holds it away from you and approaches you slowly, cautiously.

“I was just making you some hot chocolate.” He says slowly. “You seemed sad after your phone call with your mum and I wanted to comfort you.”

He’s crazy- a crazy guy has broken into your house and has been listening to your conversations for who knows how long, and has been stalking you before that.

“How long have you been stalking me for, you psycho?” You demand. His eyes widen in horror.

“I’m not a stalker!” He insists. “I’m your scarecrow- turn around and I can prove it!”

“What? So that you can stab me while my back is turned?” You demand. You make a grab for the bat. “Get out of my house!”

He manages to throw the bat backwards and grab both your shoulders as you lunge for him. With impressive strength he presses on your shoulders and spins you around. In the same motion, he shoves you forward a few steps and you stumble to re-gain your balance.

Enraged and terrified, you whip around, ready to retaliate.

Only, he’s gone. Where a weird red-haired man previously stood, your kitchen is now empty.

The counters are scattered with objects- your milk is out, and an open tin of cocoa, a few of your spice jars are laid neatly next to the pile of pots.

And, sitting neatly where the man had been not a moment before, is your little Christmas Scarecrow. He smiles up at you, button eyes gleaming like he knows something you don’t.

You can’t help it- you crumble before it. The post-adrenaline crash hits hard and you stare dumbly at the embroidered smile for a moment.

“It’s a dream.” You finally conclude to yourself. “This is some messed-up nightmare and tomorrrow this haunted scarecrow can go right back to Jin’s store.”

You grab it and hold it at a distance, your arms outstretched like it smells bad.

“This is fine.” You assert. “It’s a dream. Just. Just go back here. And I’ll go... run into a wall or something. And this will all be some sort of fever dream.”

You settle the Christmas Scarecrow back into its rightful spot on your mantle, before turning around. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to run full speed at the wall just opposite.

“‘Haunted’ is a little much, don’t you think?” The same velvety voice from earlier asks, and you turn to find the very same intruder leaping off your mantle onto the ground. “I’m not a ghost, or anything.”

He comes to stand in front of you, arms folded and lips pulled into a frown. Looking upon him now, you see the similarities to the Christmas Scarecrow- even the loose thread in the embroidered tree of his overall pockets is identical. It... it really is your Christmas Scarecrow, standing before you in human form.

You nod to yourself, a peaceful wave of acceptance washing over you and-

No wait, never mind. That wave is nausea- you’re blacking out.

When you come to, you’re arranged neatly on your couch with your scarecrow hovering over you. You almost want to faint again, but you hold strong.

“You’re awake!” He cheers, waving a damp towel around. He’s been dipping it in a bowl of cool water and pressing it against your forehead and you flinch as his actions send icy drops over water scattering across your face.

“And you used to be a scarecrow.” You grumble, sitting up. You squint and lean in closely, taking in every detail. Each mark on his skin, each strand of bright red hair, the smooth curve of his smile... it’s so human. Probably the most ethereal and beautiful human to walk the planet, but still human. One of his eyelids is a monolid and the other is a double lid and one of his front teeth is just slightly longer than the other and yet the effect is that he’s just so charming. Far too beautiful to be sitting in your tacky, poorly decorated apartment and far too beautiful to be spending most of his time as a cringe-y christmas-themed scarecrow that Jin probably fished out of the bottom of a clearance basket at a thrift shop and thought he could get away with re-selling. “You have maybe thirty seconds to explain before I call the police. Or an exorcist. Or both.”

He holds up his both his hands in surrender.

“Wait. Please.” He pleads. The desperate way he says the words makes you pause. Honestly, the sane thing to do would be to kick him out. Leave the weird, haunted scarecrow out on the street to fend for himself and go about your days as if this particular little supernatural incident never occurred.

You sigh.

“Just... please tell me what’s going on.” You finally say. “I won’t do anything drastic, but at least explain.”

Relied and gratefulness shines in his eyes and he clasps your hands gratefully between his own. Your attention is momentarily caught by the way his large hands dwarf your own. The bony prominences of his knuckles catch your attention- they shift and glide beneath his skin as his grip around your hand tightens. For some reason, the tiny action seems huge. You lift your gaze slowly to meet his eyes, which are round and warm.

“My name is Taehyung.” He explains. “And I’m a Christmas Spirit.”

“Christmas Spirit?” You echo in bewilderment. Taehyung nods eagerly and sits forward. He pulls his legs together so that he can sit cross-legged and wraps his hands around his ankles.

“Yup!” He says, and he’s surprisingly nonchalant despite the supernatural implications of his statement. “We’re beings that come about from the magic of the season. And our job is to spread Christmas cheer to whoever welcomes us into their home.”

As if that’s just a normal thing that someone can spring on you and not expect you to panic! Yet he announces it like he’s a five year old excited to explain the drawing he made of you in school that day. All you can really manage is to nod mutely for a moment. Despite the absurdity of his words, it certainly sounds like what you had done- taken a tacky, unwanted Christmas decoration and welcomed it into your home.

“And that’s you, (Y/N).” He says warmly, and the way he says your name is so fond. Like you’re his oldest, most valued friend. It startles you- you don’t think you’ve ever had the syllables of your name pronounced with such care, like they are a precious gift. “You are the first human to ever welcome me into your home. All my friends eventually found people to take them, and I’m the last one to remain. I’ve never gotten to fulfil my duty, not even once.”

“Why not?” You croak out. Why was there a random little christmas ornament in Seokjin’s store that held this kind of power? Why did it end up with you? Who was this mysterious man in your house, gazing at you like you’re the best thing to ever happen to him?

“Well, it’s probably not hard to tell.” He admits, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck and then adjusting the santa’s hat atop his head. “Not many people want a Christmas-themed Scarecrow for a decoration. At least not around here.” He sighs. But then he turns to you and his gaze is bright. It’s a little blinding, his mega-watt smile, and it’s certainly overwhelming to have the full force of it directed at you. “But you gave me a chance! You took me home!”

“So... you spread Christmas cheer for me? What does that even mean? What happens when you finish?” You say, leaning back just a little to give yourself room to breath. His scent fills your nostrils and it’s overwhelming. A pleasant mix of christmas scents- gingerbread, cinammon, peppermint. It sits thick in the back of your throat like the pleasant burn of a hot, sweet drink.

He looks surprised at the line of questioning and a frown replaces the warm, glowing look he’d borne just moments earlier.

“Well, I’m not sure. I suppose when I finish then you put me away for a year or you pass me on to someone else.” He admits. “This is my first time, so I’m still learning the ropes.” He’s a little sheepish as he admits it. But then his gaze lights up again and he pulls himself up onto the couch so that he can sit shoulder-to-shoulder with you. “But spreading Christmas cheer is just helping you enjoy the season! You haven’t had a great experience with Christmas, right? I can help!”

You stiffen as you recall earlier that day; you had essentially aired all your dirty laundry to what you’d thought was an inanimate object. Taehyung now knew more about you than even some of your closest friends did. You’d unintentionally opened up and made yourself vulnerable to some guy you hardly knew. The thought has you recoiling. You’re not against the idea of opening up- certainly when people ask the right questions, you’ll answer honestly. But people rarely ask and you’ve never volunteered. No one has has access to every dirty detail like Taehyung now does.

And for some reason that thought has you terrified.

“I’m... I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Taehyung.” You volunteer quietly. Taehyung stiffens at the tone of your voice. “You seem like a nice enough guy. Or spirit. Or scarecrow. Whatever you are. And I hope that one day you’ll find someone you can give lots of Christmas cheer to. But I didn’t sign up for this. I don’t want any of it- the “Christmas cheer” or the festivities, or anything. I’m just...” you inhale deeply. “I’m just trying to make the most of what I have.”

You get to your feet, your back facing him.

“You can stay the night, but I’ll take you back to Jin in the morning. I’ll see if I can convince any of my friends to take you, if you like.”

A slight tug on the sleeve of your jumper stops you from leaving. You glance down at your wrist. Taehyung has just the tip of your sleeve, pinched between his fingers. It’s not enough pressure to stop you from leaving. The slightest tug would liberate you from his grasp and you’d be free to go back to your room.

“No one else will.” He admits quietly. There’s a sort of heart-aching tone to his voice that makes that tiny grip feel like he’s handcuffed to you. “I waited for five years in that store. I’d sit in a box for eleven months of the year, and hope that this year would be the one someone chose me and every day of December that passed I’d watch people walk right past me. And before that, I was passed around from store to store. People would keep me in the store until they realised I’d never sell and then they’d palm me off to someone else. They didn’t even have the guts to get rid of me. And I’d watch as the objects around me got chosen. They got sent to good homes. But never me. I have waited twenty five christmases for someone to let me in. You’re the first.” He quietly admits. He hasn’t changed or adjusted his grip on your sleeve. Just that tenuous, fragile grip, that little bit of hope that can be snapped at any moment keeps you in place. “Please.” He breathes.

You stare at his fingers, at the tacky cuffs of his sleeve, at his hopeful, pleading expression.

You don’t have to do this. He’s asking you, but he won’t force you. You can say no and have the bleary, lonely Christmas you’d originally planned. You can keep pushing everyone away and forever allow Christmastime to be a holiday of heartbreak for you.

Or you could let this random Christmas Scarecrow and his sparkly, bright eyes into your home.

“Ok.” You finally say. “My work hasn’t shut down yet so I’m gonna be super busy for the next few weeks. But in between you can give it a go.”

The answering smile he gives you in turn has your heart fluttering in anticipation.

Maybe Christmas won’t be so bad this year.

Although you had had every intention of welcoming Taehyung into your home and applying yourself to the festivities as best you could, your workplace dials everything up to eleven over the next few days, just as predicted. Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t whine or complain. He spends most of the day while you are at work in his scarecrow-form or binging netflix on your account and he spends his evenings stretched on the couch, or beaming at you over dinner. It’s kind of like having a loyal golden retriever to come home to, but maybe with better manners.

It’s actually kind of pleasant. You occasionally catch him humming Christmas tunes and he keeps leaving his Santa hat in strange places but otherwise he’s a rather nonintrusive roommate. He even makes you dinner on occasion and he’s not a terrible cook.

It’s only as the weekend approaches and you’re contemplating how to spend it that it occurs to you that Taehyung hasn’t left the house once. It’s not like he can just wonder down the street in his scarecrow outfit- it’s not exactly designed to withstand subzero temperature. And you’ve been so slammed at work that it never occurred to you that you’d essentially let the poor guy stay with you and then left him to the equivalent of house arrest.

“Do you do much during the week?” You ask Taehyung across dinner that night. You had quickly learned that he does need to eat and shower and sleep like every human but he can stave it off by staying in his scarecrow form, and so dinner time had just become a shared meal most evenings. He had even waited in his scarecrow form for you to get back on the days you had finished late that week. He pauses through a mouthful of pasta and looks up, cheeks bulging.

“Not much.” He confesses, after a noisy swallow. “I don’t really have anywhere to go.” He reminds you.

Guilt churns in your stomach and sours your dinner. You had promised him you’d give him a chance, and yet here you were a week later, making him fend for himself in an unfamiliar and empty apartment with nothing to do but watch netflix and raid your pathetic excuse of a pantry.

“Right.” You sigh, thoroughly chastened. “I... forgot. I’m sorry- work just hit me really hard.”

“It’s fine.” Taehyung dismisses. “It’s my job to entertain you, not the other way round!”

You stir awkwardly at your food, still unable to dispel the guilt.

“Even so... we could go somewhere tomorrow, if you want? I have the weekend off.” You offer as nonchalantly as you can. “If you’re here for the rest of the month, you’ll need clothes. And proper bedding. We can pick that stuff up and then do some other things.”

He positively beams at your offer and it’s jarring. You aren’t used to such joy at such simple things. It’s so easy to win a smile from him, but rather than make his smiles seem meaningless, it just seems to make them brighter. You’re not used to earning such easy affection for so little and it leaves you unsure what to do with yourself.

“Really?” He questions eagerly. “The whole day?”

You duck your head slightly to disguise your fluster. You’re not even sure why your heart seems to race at his smile. Perhaps because you’ve never seen such a beautiful person smile quite like that.

“The whole day.” You reassure him. “I can make up for this week- I really didn’t mean to ignore you like this.”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“Don’t be silly!” He scolds you. “You told me that work would be busy. It just means we have to make your weekend even more enjoyable to make up for a missed week.”

He gets abruptly to his feet, wiping pasta sauce from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, I have so much to plan! Can I borrow your laptop? I have to plan our day!” He asks. A little startled, you merely nod at him in bewilderment and he grins determinedly to himself. “Ok! My first day on the job. Here I go.”

He storms off and then performs a quick u-turn.

“After I clean up my dishes.” He recalls sheepishly.

The next morning you shuffle into your kitchen a bit bleary-eyed and still in your pyjamas. Taehyung never seems to be tired or grumpy no matter what time of day it is, and so it’s not surprise that he’s up and humming to himself as he cooks breakfast for the two of you.

He hears you shuffle in the kitchen and glances over his shoulder to smile at you and it catches you off-guard for some reason. You’ve gotten used to him cooking meals, to his singing, even to just his general presence, but you can’t seem to get used to the way he seems to just smile so easily. Something about the way the wintery sun streams in through the windows and catches the tips of his hair and gilding the sharp edges of his handsome face is just ethereal. You can believe he’s not a human in that moment- he’s too gorgeous to be one.

“You’re up!” He cheers. You shake your head to try and rid yourself of your strange thoughts and shuffle forward to scrutinise the breakfast he’s preparing.

“I’m making a Christmas classic.” He informs you when he notices you attempting to peer over his shoulders. “At least, according to her.” He gestures to your ipad on the counter, where he has one of those food blogs run by stay-at-home mums that write essays on their blogs instead of the actual recipes. This one seems to have a picture of tacky santas made from pancakes and whipped cream.

Looking at Taehyung’s progress so far, it actually looks fairly similar to the picture, but that’s not saying that much considering the quality of the picture.

“Isn’t that like cannabalism for you? Isn’t eating Santa basically eating your coworker?” You point out. Taehyung laughs, a full-bodied laugh that makes his eyes curl up into little crescent moons.

“He’s actually my boss more than my coworker. But he loves Santa-themed decorations. He says it makes him feel jolly.” He tells you.

There’s a lot to unpack there and so you choose to ignore it by occupying yourself with the cleanup.

“So I was thinking that we can get some clothes for you today and maybe some other necessities if you’re going to be staying here all month.” You inform him. Taehyung nods distractedly, gently nudging one of the santa pancakes onto a plate. He reaches for a bowl of blueberries, arranging them into eyes and then spraying whipped cream in the shape of a beard. It kind of seems like he’s not very interested in your schedule for the day.

“Tadaa!” He exclaims, showing off his creation. He then reaches for a blueberry and pops it in his mouth. “They’re not bad for frozen fruits.”

“Looks great.” You praise him. “But the plan for today-“

“(Y/N).” Taehyung cuts you off. He looks a little stern, but there’s still a warmth to his expression that softens the harsh edges. “I told you I’d plan today. It’s my job to make your Christmas season enjoyable. I’m not here for you to babysit- got it?”

Chastened and surprised, you nod meekly. He grins.

“Good. Now open up.” He says, brandishing a blueberry menacingly between his fingertips at you. Your eyes widen.

“But Tae-“ you protest, and he’s shoved the blueberry into your mouth before you can finish your counterargument. This time, when he smiles, it’s a little smug.

“No “buts”.” He sighs. “Just sit down and enjoy breakfast and trust me. We can pick up some

clothes since the Christmas overalls are a bit weird, but after that, then I take over. Ok?” He demands, and you chew through the blueberry, a little disconcerted.

“Ok.” You finally agree reluctantly.

Breakfast is a peaceful affair, with the two of you enjoying the pancakes. Cleaning up with Taehyung is almost domestic- there’s something pleasant about having him stand shoulder to shoulder with you, drying the dishes as you wash them.

Outside is a frigid affair- it hasn’t quite hit the point where it’s snowing outside, but temperatures are definitely creeping lower and lower and Taehyung nearly glows blue in the short sprint to your car. You fix it by blasting the heater the second the two of you are safely secured in the vehicle.

“So, if you’re planning the agenda for today, what are we doing after we grab you some clothes?” You ask conversationally. Taehyung pauses from where he’s flicking through your phone, scrutinising your spotify playlist like he’s studying it for an exam. He looks up, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration.

“Well, I called in a favour from an old friend and booked us a free Christmas bauble painting workshop.” He announces, looking pleased with him. You squint at him and grimace just a little.

“I don’t know if you know this, Taehyung, but I am terrible at drawing. I’m so bad that in highschool all these kids signed a petition to ban me from it.” You say, completely serious. He stares at you, bewildered for a moment.

“Surely it can’t be that bad?” He wonders aloud. You just shake your head grimly at him.

One shopping trip later, Taehyung discovers that it is, in fact, that bad.

“What did Rudolph ever do to deserve this?” He questions in abject horror. You feel your cheeks heat as you curl your hands protectively over your glass bauble.

“It’s not that bad!” You insist. And then you hesitate. “Is it?”

Taehyung pries your fingers back to expose your masterpiece- splotchy brown paint, sparkles, and a lovely dollop of red paint in the centre.

“(Y/N).” He says seriously. “It looks like someone walks into Santa’s stable, massacred all the reindeer and then scattered glitter over the scene of the crime.”

You squint at your painting, and, depressingly enough, his description is more accurate than what it’s meant to be. It was meant to be Rudolph, smiling happily through the glass of the bauble.

“Forget it.” You snap, setting the glass bauble down and moving to get up. “This is stupid, anyway- we still have to pick up a mattress protector for your bed.”

“Wait!” He laughs, grabbing at your sleeve before you can make a hasty retreat. A firm tug from his has you landing back in your seat, face to face with the awful paint spill you call a painting. “I’m sorry! Just relax, ok? This is supposed to be fun.”

“I’m not having fun.” You sniff. “I told you I wasn’t good at painting and now you’re laughing at me.”

Taehyung winces.

“Well... it’s not totally unsalvageable.” He finally compromises. He picks up the bauble, examining it for a moment. And then he picks up the paintbrush, and with quick, precise strokes of his paintbrush, he morphs the brown splotch formally known as Rudolph into a sort of sleigh-shape, and the red-splotch is rounded into the curve of Santa’s belly. “There.” He says, satisfied. You blink in wonder at the new creation. It’s still a little ugly and a little streaky, but it definitely doesn’t look like someone went on a Christmas-killing spree. “How’s that? Now you just have to decorate the sleigh an add sparkles. Surely you can’t mess that up.”

“You underestimate me.” You deadpan at him, and to your surprise, he snorts with laughter. A couple of the other people painting baubles glare at you, and Taehyung merely offers them a merry grin.

“There used to be an elf like you at Santa’s workshop. No matter what he did, he’s somehow always mess up painting the toys.” Taehyung recalls, shaking his head fondly. “The two of you would get along.”

It’s the second time he’s mentioned it, and this time you can’t keep your curiosity at bay.

“So... does that mean you’ve met with Santa? The Northpole and all that is a thing?” You ask. Taehyung nods.

“It sure is! It’s where all Christmas Spirits grow up. We get raised there and taught about the best ways to spread Christmas cheer and then we get sent out to spread the cheer.” He sighs warmly. “I was top of my class.”

You grimace as you picture it. Dozens of Christmas Scarecrows, sitting at tables, studying books on how to paint the perfect Christmas bauble.

“And so you just... get kicked out after a certain age? They raise you and send you out to sit on a shelf for eleven months of the year and then follow silly Christmas traditions for the last one?” You question him, and for a moment you’re horrified by the loneliness of such an existence. “Wouldn’t you... just get sick of Christmas? Spending your life only ever being in Christmas mode?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Taeyung reminds you as he sprinkles glitter over his painting of a snowman. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea, but you feel like he’s slapped you. “This is my first official Christmas on the job, remember? I haven’t had a chance to get sick of it yet.”

That makes you go silent.

Taehyung seems to pick up on the way the mood has shifted. He stops detailing the buttons of his snowman painting and glances at you. Your eyes are wide and slightly misty.

He’s never felt particularly sorry for himself. Sure, the many years he’s spent gathering dust on a shelf have been lonely. He missed his friends, and all he could ever dream of was getting to sit on a mantle as he watched a family enjoy Christmas. That would be the closest he’d ever get, and that’s been his dream for so long.

But for some reason, with you looking at him like that, the ache that he’s sought so hard to push down resurfaces. It’s like a damn breaking; it’s soothing. To have someone look at him and actually be acknowledging how hard and lonely and painful what he went through was.

“I’m ok now.” He reassures you, though his voice is a little hoarse. The sheen to his eyes is a little less brilliant, and your heart aches for him as you process the twenty-five year wait that Taehyung has endured. “After all, someone welcomed me into their home, right?”

You blink- that someone is you. You’ve welcomed Taehyung into your home. Christmas is perhaps even lonelier for Taehyung than it is for you, and yet all he seems to want to do is make it enjoyable for you.

You duck your head, distracting yourself by stirring the tip of your paintbrush in the bright red paint.

“I guess so.” You finally say. You offer him a tentative smile. “I guess I have a responsibility to make this your best Christmas ever, then.” You resolve.

Taehyung is silent for such a prolonged moment that you’re forced to face him again to ensure he hasn’t died. When you do, what you find is him gaping at you like a Christmas tree just sprouted from between your eyebrows.

“What?” You question, a little defensively. It’s hard to interpret the look on his face.

He shakes himself, coming back to his senses.

“Nothing.” He reassures you. “I just realised that you’re a bit rare to smile, is all.”

Something about the look in his eyes has you feeling flustered- your fingers tremble enough that you knock over the glitter and it spills across Taehyung’s newly bought trousers. You get up quickly, horrified, but he laughs it off.

“I think we’ve done enough damage to these baubles.” He says with a warm smile. “We still have things to buy, right?”

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Taehyung drags you from store to store, excited by the smallest things. He stares at a Christmas-themed hot chocolate for so long that you end up having to buy it for him. The look of gratefulness in his eyes is unparalleled and almost makes up for the fact that you literally have to plead with him to buy actual clothes and not just ridiculous Christmas Sweaters. In the evening, you wonder the shopping district, appreciating the lights that line the main street in brilliant arrays.

When you slump down on your couch beside Taehyung that night, showered and ready for bed, you’re exhausted to the bones. Oddly, it’s not the same kind of tiredness you feel after a long week at work or after you’ve had a long argument with your mother. Instead, it’s a satisfying fatigue- like you’ll drift off quickly and dream of christmas lights and children’s laughter.

“How did I do for my first day?” Taehyung yawns from where he is sprawled on the couch in a similar position to you.

“Good.” You say, turning your head to glance at him. The dim light of your living room softens the slope of his nose, and his dark eyes catch flashes of the light that makes it seem like his irises are tiny little galaxies. There’s something so inherently peaceful about the warmth of his presence beside yours .

“I’m glad.” He says, though his lashes flutter and you too find yourself fighting off the comforting waves of sleep. He shifts and turns his head so that his cheek rests against the couch and he gazes at you. “Hey (Y/N)?” He calls gently.

Your eyes are closed by this state.

“Hmm?” You hum, in acknowledgement of his statement. He’s quiet for a moment before he ask.

“Why did you want to spend Christmas alone?” He asks. You blink open your eyes and look back at him. His gaze is steady and unwavering. But it’s not scolding or judgemental- instead he just seems curious.

“You told me about your parent’s divorce and all their fighting on Christmas... but I heard the way you spoke to your mother on the phone too. You want to spend Christmas with her, don’t you? You just... can’t?” He asks. “You said you didn’t want the Christmas cheer... but you still took me home and decorated for Christmas. You painted the baubles and drank the hot cocoa and did the Christmas shopping... why do you pretend to hate it all?”

If it were anyone else, you would probably stop the conversation there. You have no interest in delving into your long, complex family history only to be met with looks of confusion, or worse, pity.

But somehow, in the short space of a mere week, Taehyung has become someone you feel safe opening up to. Perhaps it’s because he’s already heard your whole story already. Or maybe because of the way he genuinely just wants to see you smile despite there being no substantial gain for him other than job satisfaction. Or because he’s proven himself trustworthy in the little ways he’s slotted himself into your life, like sharing meals. Whatever the reason, you don’t clam up like you usually do.

“I don’t pretend to hate it.” You tell him softly. “I just got sick of trying to love it.”

Taehyung is silent for a long period of time. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, exhausted and sleepy. The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and the moment is strangely intimate.

Then he smiles.

“Then I’ll keep trying for you.” He promises.

The two of you don’t manage to stay awake for much longer. Eventually the long day catches up to you- you drift off first, with one of those rare but peaceful smiles on your face, and Taehyung follows suit soon after.

The week that follows is one of the worst you’ve had in a while. You’re putting in ridiculous amounts of overtime and everyone is a little on edge from sheer exhaustion and the mounting stress of deadlines.

And in that time, Taehyung is honestly a lifesaver. It’s remarkable, being able to come home from another hellish day at work to find him with dinner ready and a crappy Christmas movie set up. You spend your evenings laughing and unwinding. It’s not like you don’t have friends who will come rushing if you tell them you’ve had a bad day, but there’s something special about the way Taehyung does it. With bright smiles and easy laughs and an infectious joy that seems to chase the fatigue that plagues you away.

It’s towards the end of the week that you hit your limit. You’re not really the type to cry much. You’ve always been fiercely independent, and your upbringing meant that you were the kind of child to retire to your room and work things out for yourself when you felt the need to cry. It’s not like crying ever really achieved anything. Maybe the occasional sad scene in a movie would get you, but usually you’re the kind to feel sad internally.

But after this particular day, you’re close to tears. Your boss had yelled at you, one of the major projects you had been working on just hit a major snag, and you found out your favourite coworker was leaving.

All you can thing about as you walk in the door is spending another peaceful evening with Taehyung. You’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time to expand his taste past cheesy Christmas movies and had even made a list of films he may like during his lunch break. You swing open the door to your home, eagerly rushing in and calling out to Taehyung so that he knows you’re home.

And that’s when your phone goes off.

It’s your father, probably the last person you want to talk to right now.

Unlike your mother, who at least was trying to make up for the ways she’s screwed up in your upbringing, your father has never acknowledged his part in their divorce. It was always what your mother did wrong, how she let him down, how it was because she changed and wanted different things. He was the kind of man who always wanted a big family, and he had adored your mother at first. But her pregnancy with you had been difficult and you had, admittedly, been a sickly child. She’s never outright said the words, but you suspect postpartum depression might have played a part in her downward spiral. Either way, she had resolved to have no further children after you, something your father was heavily against.

You suppose it can’t have been easy- your father had been in love and the two of them had agreed on the kind of future they wanted together- the kind filled with children, a quiet suburban life not far from either of their parents. And for your mother to change so suddenly and drastically would have been devastating and incomprehensible to your father.

Still, you can’t help the resentment and hurt you feel towards him. Why did you have to get caught in the crossfire of his heartbreak? And then the icing on the cake was his remarriage.

His wife is a lovely woman. Coming into the marriage with three children of her own, she had treated you with the same love and kindness she expected of your father towards her children. Her children, however, were not bound to such conduct, and made it their personal mission to make your life a living hell. Perhaps they felt insecure over the fact that your father was related to you by blood and they weren’t.

Either way, it put him in a difficult position- perhaps he felt he couldn’t tell them to back off without it coming across as favouritism. But he could have done something- spoken to his wife, or chosen you before the family he married into. But he didn’t. He ignored it and turned a blind eye and to this day he continues to pretend that things are normal. Especially after the birth of your half-sibling.

“Hi.” You say, as you answer the phone. Taehyung has stepped into the entryway with you, watching curiously as you answer the phone.

“Hi sweetheart!” Your dad calls on the other side of the line. You wince at the unwelcome nickname.

“To... to what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask. You can hear a loud racket in the background. Its probably your half-sister. She’s always been on the louder side, even as a baby.

“Nothing! I was just thinking it’s been a while since we last chatted. You haven’t been returning my calls.” You have no doubt the sadness in his voice is genuine, yet somehow it feels insincere.

“I’ve just been really busy at work.” You lie, rather than admit you had seen the missed calls from him and not even bothered to listen to the messages he left. “I haven’t had a chance to call you back.”

“Right... right. No, that’s fine. I’m sure your very busy.” He rushes to reassure you. “I was just calling because your mother contacted me. She was hoping I could convince you to spend Christmas with us.”

You stiffen at the familiar topic. You had thought it had been a little too quiet on her end. Perhaps she had thought that if she couldn’t convince you to come home, maybe your father could. She’s always had this idea in her head that maybe you aren’t close to her because you prefer your father, and it’s not like she can handle having a long enough conversation with him to find out she’s wrong. It’s surprising she even managed to let him know your plans for Christmas.

“It’s fine. Like I told mum, I’d really much rather spend it here this year. Besides, I thought you all were going away for Christmas this year? We already spent Christmas together last year.” You say, pointedly trying to remind him that Christmas isn’t even a yearly thing with him. He does the contractual every-second-year with you, and then plans fun events with his family on the years he isn’t stuck babysitting.

“That’s true. But that’s why I’m calling! It took a bit of convincing, but there’s a spot on this trip with your name on it, if you want it.” He tells you. He almost sounds excited, like he’s really done something thoughtful and kind. Not just made some last-minute attempts to shoehorn you in. The invite hadn’t been there to start with, after all. It’s only as an afterthought that he’s made any attempt to add you in- a chance to pretend like things are good. Like the two of you aren’t on rocky terms the rest of the year. Like you’re close enough to go on holidays with your stepfamily.

“I think I’m fine dad.” You finally say. Taehyung is watching the expressions play across your face with mild curiosity. He probably can’t hear your father’s voice on the other line, but he can see the anger on your face, and hear the wobble to your tone. “You have fun on your trip. I’ll make do here.”

There’s a beat of silence and you hear your father sigh. You grimace- that’s his pre-scolding sigh. The sigh he gives before any lecture he thinks you’ve earned. As if he has any parental claim to scolding you.

“(Y/N),” your father begins. “It’s Christmas. Don’t be like this- you should be spending time with your family-“

“I did.” You cut him off, and you surprise yourself with the way tears fill your eyes. You squint, trying to keep them at bay. Taehyung watches with alarm as he registers the way you are on the verge of crying. “I spent every year. With you and mum. And then you and then mum and then you and then mum. I tried for so. damn. long. to do the family Christmas thing, but all it ever ended in was the two of you letting me down. Mum was too drunk or you were too busy. And yeah, maybe you guys were going through your own stuff. But don’t you dare try and tell me that Christmas is about family because if that’s what family is, I don’t want it. At least if I spend Christmas alone, neither of you can let me down.” You snarl into the phone line.

Your father is silent after your outburst. Taehyung watches you, waiting for your response.

And the tears finally spill forth, rolling down your cheeks.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, then I won’t stop you.” Your father finally says. He sounds hurt, as if you’re the one who’s hurt him. “I guess we’ll see you in the new year. Your sister’s birthday is coming up and Rachel wants to have a big party since she’s ten this year.”

“I’ll see you then.” You say, your throat raspy and your voice small.

You’ve barely hung up the call before two strong arms have wrapped around your figure. You go stiff in Taehyung’s arms. This is probably the first time he’s hugged you, and it isn’t unpleasant. Instead, the scent of gingerbread and peppermint fills your nose and it’s strangely soothing. You shift and turn your head just slightly so that your face is buried into the soft cream of his jumper, one of the fresh purchases from the other day.

“You can cry if you like.” He tells you, and you feel the words rumble from deep in his chest. “I won’t look.” He promises. “That was painful for me to hear, and it’s not even my dad- if you want to cry, then cry.” His voice cracks on the end of his sentence, and you abruptly realise that Taehyung is crying. He’s known you for just a short couple of weeks, and the only nice thing you’ve done for him is not drop a tacky Christmas Scarecrow back into a box of junk, and yet he’s crying just from hearing your half of a painful phone call.

Perhaps it’s the permission you need. For all of the long, lonely years you were stuck in the middle of feuding exes, you never gave yourself permission to cry. Instead, you’d retire to your room, pressing a pillow to your ears to drown out the sounds of screaming.

For a long time, you just stand there, sobbing into Taehyung’s arms. He runs his hands soothingly over the back of your hair, and eventually the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulls you into a sense of peace.

Taehyung is quick to act from there- before long, you are forcefully seated on your couch with a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Taehyung crouches before you, swiping at the tear trails on your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks cautiously. You grimace and shake your head.

“It’s just the same old stuff.” You reassure him. “Long day at work; daddy issues; the usual standard.”

Taehyung smiles and settles himself beside you on the couch, tugging the blanket from your hands so that he can curl under it.

“Good thing your personal Christmas Spirit is here to save the season.” He whispers conspiratorially. He leans forward towards the coffee table and grabs your iPad, before pulling it into the safe cocoon of your blanket. “I’ve been researching all day! Tomorrow’s your day off, so it’s week 2 of spreading Christmas cheer.” He announces, unlocking the iPad and scrolling through the internet page he has open.

You nearly choke on your hot chocolate.

“Taehyung,” you rasp. Your oesophagus is probably blistering as you speak. “That’s a page for date ideas. This stuff is all for couples.”

“We are a couple.” Taehyung answers, confused. He points to himself and then to you. “A couple of people.” And then he grins at you and you realise he was teasing.

You snort and can’t hold back your laugh. Taehyung’s smile softens and he leans into your personal space.

“There it is.” He remarks. Wonder fills his tone. “That lovely smile.” He taps the tip of your nose fondly.

The smile slips off your face at his words. Lovely? Your smile? He thinks your smile is lovely?

A weird, electric feeling fills you at the thought, and you lean away from him quickly before your stupid heart can get any funny ideas. He didn’t mean anything by that compliment. He’s a Christmas Spirit- it’s literally his job to make you smile. You won’t overthink it and ruin this strange but precious arrangement you have going on.

Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look hurt or uncomfortable at the way you’d blatantly pulled away from him. Instead, his smile widens.

“Good idea. You gotta rest up those smiling muscles for tomorrow or you’ll get a cramp.” He tells you. He then gets up and and stretches, letting out a tremendous yawn. He glances over his shoulder at you with a wink. “Prepare yourself for the best day ever.”

Said “best day ever” begins with you staring listlessly up at your ceiling. Taehyung had talked big the night before, promising you a day of fun and enjoyment.

But you just can’t picture it. You’ve spoken to coworkers and friends before, about the excitement of Christmas. How they see lights or hear carols or even smelling gingerbread triggers this warm, nostalgic and joyful feeling deep in their hearts. But you’ve always felt nothing. Christmas has always been just another day, to you.

With a sigh, you roll out of bed.

Out in your living room, Taehyung is fidgeting with your smart tv, trying to get it to play what looks like Mariah Carey’s rendition of “All I want for Christmas is you”. He’s mumbling to himself, and his santa’s hat droops lower and lower on his head. The little white pompom at the end brushes his nose, and the bright red strands of hair that peak out from beneath the cap stick out in every direction.

Apart from the santa’s hat, he’s dressed remarkably stylishly. That had been a big surprise on your little outing the week before- his impeccable fashion taste. Today he’s wearing a soft, fuzzy red cardigan over a large white t-shirt and tan trousers.

“The volume’s off.” You inform him. He starts, glancing at you in surprise, before confirming that he has accidentally managed to turn the volume all the way down. “You operate technology like a grandpa.”

Taehyung grins as you take the remote from him, adjusting the volume and selecting the song so that the familiar opening begins to chime through your speakers.

“You say that like I didn’t catch you yelling at your printer two nights ago.” He chuckles. “Are you ready for our ultimate Christmas adventure?”

He must catch the way your guard goes up, because his smile softens from something amused into something more gentle and comforting.

“Nervous?” He asks. You hesitate, just a moment, before offering a terse nod.

“Sorry.” You finally settle on. “I just... I’ve tried the “christmas cheer” thing. And it didn’t work Tae. I just feel like... Christmas is just another day.”

“That’s because it is just another day.” He reminds you. “But if you give it a chance, it can be more.”

You bite your lip hesitantly, and he shakes his head.

“What if you didn’t think about it like Christmas?” He asks. “How about, today is a day for me to cheer you up after a long week. We’re gonna do fun things and enjoy ourself because we want to. Does that sound doable?”

It does. It’s strangely reassuring and low pressure, and something about his words and the patient, warm light to his eyes puts you at ease. You don’t know why you feel so much pressure about enjoying Christmas but maybe it’s because you don’t want to let Taehyung down. He has so much riding on this Christmas and you don’t want to be the person who ruins Christmas for him. Who makes its a tedious, miserable event like your parents did for you.

And maybe a small part of you wants to enjoy the season for you. To claim back the years lost to misery and fighting and to share in the merriment that everyone else holds.

“Ok.” You finally agree. “Lead the way.”

Taehyung beams in response.

First on the agenda seems to be in the park in the centre of your city. Not every year in this place has a white Christmas- some Christmases are just cold and muddy, with a thin layer of ice over dirty pavements. This particular Christmas has been quite frosty, and quite early on- the first snowfall had been earlier that week and now a thick layer of snow coats the ground and clings to thick winter coats.

“Tadaa!” Taehyung proclaims, waving a hand out towards your first activity of the day. An open carriage, decked out in sleigh bells, and two gorgeous white horses, standing tall and sleek in their crystalline surroundings.

You creep closer, and their handler spots you. He’s a cheerful man in a formal suit, offset by the bright red santa hat atop his head. He matches Taehyung, who seems reluctant to part with his beloved accessory no matter the time of day.

“You must be (Y/N),” the old man cheers, crowding closer. His horses snort and stamp their feet at his excitement, but he pays them no mind, instead skittering forward to greet you. “Taehyung has told me all about you! Come, get yourself seated and we’ll begin the tour.”

You glance at Taehyung, who merely shoos you encouragingly towards the carriage.

“How did you afford this?” You hiss at him. He shrugs and smiles.

“Christmas spirits have connections.” He whispers, before placing a hand on either side of your waist. You smother a yelp as you feel him practically lift you up the first step, and it doesn’t take you much encouragement to scramble onto your seat from there. It’s a vain attempt to distract yourself from the feeling of his large hands encircling your waist.

“All seated?” Your guide questions. Taehyung nods as he scoots in close to you and that’s really all the warning you get before the carriage lurches forward.

You steady yourself with a yelp, and an arm around you from Taehyung keeps you upright. You glance at him in surprise and are momentarily caught off-guard by his profile. A thin, delicate smattering of snowflakes has been caught on the breeze and they catch on his hair and lashes. The tip of his nose has gone endearingly red in the cold.

He turns his gaze when he feels your stare and he grins.

“Enjoying the sights?” He wonders innocently. You grimace and look away. He merely laughs. “Let me explain to you the logic behind our first activity of the day. First of all, it came as a package with the activity my friend got me for free. Secondly, I thought that it might help you see how little perspective can make the things you see every day so much more special.” He finishes his explanation by pointing an arm across you to gesture at the scenery of the park. He’s right; you’ve seen this scenery hundreds of times, across all seasons, but there’s something special about it in the moment. The warmth of families, covered in thick, puffy jackets, the flutter of chilly snowflakes against your skin, the sheen of frost over the pond on the far end of the park. It’s all familiar and yet in that moment, surrounded by the glimmering sound of sleigh-bells and the stead thud of horse shoes against the pavement, the park you’ve known since moving to this city is different, magical.

The carriage pulls to a stop beside a crowded pavillion. On the other side, you can glimpse people taking advantage of the outdoor figure skating rink thats set up in the park over winter.

“Is this our second stop?” You ask Taehyung, as he helps you alight from the carriage. Oddly, though he grasps your hand as he helps you down, he doesn’t release it once you’re on solid ground. Instead, he keeps his fingers wrapped around yours as he waves farewell to the carriage driver.

“You guessed it!” He congratulates you. “Stop number two; appreciating the fun of winter! Nothing screams winter wonderland like a figure skating rink.”

“Can you skate?” You ask him as he leads you to the skate rental counter.

“No?” He asks. “But how hard can it be, right? It looked really easy on all the videos I watched in preparation.”

A short while later, you get to bear witness to Taehyung learning just how hard figure skating can be.

“It’s just like walking.” You attempt to soothe him, all the while wincing at the vice-like grip he has on your hands. “Just keep standing upright.”

“Have I always been this tall?” Taehyung breathes. He’s gone deathly pale, and you don’t think the cold is the reason behind it. “Why is the ground so far away?”

“You can do it.” You urge, still allowing him to cling onto your forearms like he’s about to plummet off a cliff edge and you are the only thing keeping him from certain death. “Come on, Tae.”

He shoots up straight, eyes widening at the sudden nickname. Unfortunately, it’s the wrong move, because he topples forward, and the only thing keeping him from lying face-down on the ice is you. You’re toppling backwards before you can stop yourself.

Taehyung yelps and you brace yourself for your head to impact against the hard ice, but it never comes. Instead your head lands in the firm cushion of Taehyung’s palm. Somehow, in the chaos of slipping, he’s landed on top of you but managed to stop you from banging your head.

You blink open your eyes and for a moment, your senses are overwhelmed with the scent of peppermint and the warm brown of his eyes. He looks just as startled as you are. You feel your face heat and his breath puffs warm against your cheeks, contrasting the chill of the air.

“Maybe figure skating isn’t for me.” He volunteers sheepishly.

You can’t help but offer a crooked smile. He’s so silly but it’s strangely endearing. He looks surprised at your smile, and it seems that’s the moment he abruptly realises the position you’re in. Quickly, he scrambles off you and helps you into a sitting position.

“Sorry.” He says glumly. “I thought it would be fun, but clearly I overestimated myself.”

You get to your feet and offer a hand to help him get up. He looks nervously at your outstretched hand.

“It is fun.” You reassure him. “And it can still be fun. Just hold on to me, and trust me ok?”

Something in his gaze softens and he accepts your outstretched hand. It takes a bit, but with an arm around his chest, you manage to stabilise him between yourself and the wall of the ice-skating rink.

He peeks up at you through his bright red fringe. His santa’s hat sits lopsided on his head. The smile he gives you this time is different from all the other ones. It’s not as ecstatic or joy-filled. This one is more reserved, almost shy; you feel a bit like you’ve been punched in the chest for some reason when you see it.

You stretch out your hands again, your hands flat and palms extended skywards, and he place one hand into each of your palms. Even through your thick gloves, your skin feels oddly warm when he holds you.

Gently, you take slow, gliding steps backwards, while he follows with much smaller, much more jilted steps.

“It’s just like walking, but smoother.” You explain, and the words are forced through a tight throat. Perhaps the cold is getting to you- that’s the only explanation you can think of for why you suddenly feel so short of breath.

Taehyung nods, focussing hard on the ice. He gives a big exhale that releases in a huge, cloudy breath, and presses one foot forward. And then the other. It’s not long before he’s gliding along before you.

“That’s it!” You cheer. “I’m going to let go of one hand now, ok? I can’t keep skating backwards or I’ll crash into someone.”

Taehyung looks a bit fearful, but then he nods with determination lighting his eyes. Slowly, you release one hand and spin so that you’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him. He still maintains a death grip on the hand that’s still grasping his, but he manages to stay upright and not go tipping forward.

“Ok, here we go.” You say, and you take one step forward, followed by a second, and then a third and before you know it, you and Taehyung are drifting across the ice, albeit slowly and with lots of breaks to allow Taehyung to steady himself on the wall.

It’s actually quite fun, and relaxing, gliding across the ice like this. Music crackles through the speakers, and the people around you are all enjoying themselves. Surrounded by the bright flurry of December snow, it’s easy to smile and let loose and enjoy the season.

Eventually, the cold does manage to catch up with you, but Taehyung’s quick to press on to the next scheduled activity before you can feel too sad that the ice skating is over.

He crowds you off the ice, eagerly urging you forward with a hand planted on either shoulder.

“Hurry! We’re going to be late!!” He informs you. You deliberately slow down at that and he gets so huffy and impatient at your silliness that you find yourself laughing.

After warming yourselves up with a hot chocolate and some lunch in the warmth of a well-heated cafe, it’s starting to get a bit dark by the time Taehyung leads you to your final activity. He refuses to say what it is- instead he leads you in an increasingly convoluted route on public transport. He gets more and more amused the more unfamiliar with your destination you become, and by the time you step off the bus on the snowy outskirts of the city, you’re starting to think the whole Christmas Spirit thing was an act designed to murder you in a forest somewhere.

Particularly when he claps a hand over each eye, obscuring your vision.

“Taehyung,” you sigh. “If this is how you’re going to murder me, can’t you at least let me see the knife coming?”

“I’m not going to murder you.” He scoffs, though with gentle pressure, he leads you forward, his chest pressed protectively to your back. “I just want to surprise you.”

“I’m very easily surprised.” You remind him. “I don’t need to be blind in a forest to be surprised. Just give me a box of chocolates after a long day of work or something.”

“Hush.” He shushes you. “Just walk, and trust me.”

You take a deep, inhaling breath and your lungs fill with what has become the calming, warm scent of peppermint and cinnamon. It’s Taehyung, you remind yourself. He’s had plenty of opportunity to hurt you or scam you or even kill you but instead all he’s done is wait eagerly for you to return home and watch tacky Christmas movies with you.

“Ok.” He says, against your ear, and you shiver at the heat of his mouth tickling the cold tips of your ears. “Are you ready?”

Words fail you for some mysterious reason, so you settle for nodding mutely.

Taehyung drops his hands from your eyes and it takes you a few blinks to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light.

What lies before you is a long, brightly lit pathway. Market stalls line the paths, with vendors brandishing their wares. Fairly lights string across the stalls, in various tones ranging from warm-toned white lights to festive blues, greens, reds. Overhead, brilliant archways decorated with marvellous, intricate arrays of Christmas lights mark the path.

“What... what is this, Tae?” You breathe. Your chest hurts a little and this time you’re willing to admit that it has nothing to do with the cold.

“This is the Annual Christmas Markets.” He announces proudly. “Brought to you by your local council and sponsored by Subway (sandwiches not included).”

You take hesitant, wondering steps forward. You don’t really have any words for the strange, ballooning feeling in your chest. Like your heart is so full it’s about to burst. You feel on the verge of tears yet at the same time you feel free and light and happy.

“It’s so... pretty.” You say. Taehyung beams and steps in close so that he’s shoulder to shoulder with you.

“Pretty magical, huh?” He asks you. “I found it on google! Did you know the city throws this event every year?”

You shake your head wonderingly.

“I had no idea.” You admit. He tilts his head towards the festivities.

“Then let’s explore!” He cries, tugging you forward with a hand wrapped around yours.

There’s lots to do around the markets. There’s christmas light sculptures scattered around, like a scavenger hunt of sorts. Taehyung’s favourite is the one of a santa formed from wires twisted together, skiing across the snow on a sleigh, two reindeers are standing tall. Your favourite is probably a tunnel of lights, tightly woven together to create an archway as people weave through it- you like the way it turns Taehyung’s bright red hair into brilliant licks of flames, and how his eyes look like they hold the entire night sky within their depths.

There’s a mulled wine stall, although Taehyung pulls a face at the taste and you have to buy him a hot chocolate to get him to forgive you.

“I just don’t understand how anyone can dislike Christmas carols!” Taehyung protests across his hot chocolate as the night progresses. You’re nearing the edge of the market stalls, which open up onto a big open space, paved with asphalt and with the snow scraped off it where various families and groups of people are starting to gather. Most of them are in parked vehicles, all facing towards a central stage that hasn’t been lit up yet.

“If you talk to anyone who works in retail, they just get repetitive after a while.” You explain. “I mean, “Last Christmas” is a good song in theory, but not after the six repeats that played before your lunch break.”

Taehyung “tsk”’s and shakes his head.

“I think you just have the wrong associations with the songs.” He sighs. “If you associate it with work and bad things, of course you won’t like it! You have to make positive memories and think of those when you hear the songs.”

The stage lights up ahead of you and a small band starts to take the stage. You gaze at the performers as they prepare.

“Any suggestions?” You ask softly. You surprise yourself, and when you look at Taehyung, he looks a little stunned to. “To make positive memories. What should I think of instead, when I hear those songs?”

He searches your gaze for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth quirks in a little half smile.

“Follow me.” He urges, leading you across the asphalt towards the stage. You have to duck between parked cars where people have makeshift little dens to enjoy the show from. He brings you to a stop where there’s a bit of a space just before the stage. A few couples have already taken advantage of what is essentially a dance floor. He spins around and pulls you in close. You stumble a little, not expecting the movement, but it seems he was expecting that. He steadies you with a hand against your waist and tugs one of your free arms up to rest on his shoulder. “When you hear this song... you can think about today.” He tells you with a smile. “And about all the fun we had!”

He begins to sway you back and forth in a slow turn. You wonder why his weird Christmas Spirit school taught him how to slow dance. Up on the stage, the singer begins to croon the opening notes of “have yourself a merry little christmas”. You tell yourself its the cold that urges you to shuffle in closer to Taehyung as he sways you from side to side. He’s so warm, and solid. Unbidden, your heart starts to beat a little faster, and when you raise your eyes to meet his, something about the warmth in those dazzling depths has you feeling light-headed.

“What do you think about when you hear them?” You ask him, changing the subject in an attempt to overcome the strange, overwhelming emotion you suddenly feel weighted with. He spins you out in a twirl, before tugging you back in.

“Hmm...” he contemplates. “I think about hot chocolates, and snowball fights, and the smell of Christmas trees. And Christmas lights and Christmas bells.” He lists, his gaze hazy as he thinks through his list. It’s a bit of a scary thought, but you could honestly stay here forever, watching Taehyung list the things he loves, being swayed gently in his arms. And then he glances down at you and there’s something so warm and fond in his expression that you feel your face heat. “And I think about your smile.”

A funny thing happens in that moment, after his confession. Your heart goes on strike for a moment- even she seems shocked at the sudden turn of events. And then suddenly the air is electric, and all your senses are just filled with Taehyung. His smell, his eyes, his hair, his warmth... his lips.

It’s a sudden revelation, like being struck by lightening. The look in his eyes seems to thread into your veins, leaving burning trails in its wake. His scent washes into the very bottom of your lungs. You like him. In a very short amount of time, he’s wiggled past all your defences and now here you are, standing in his arms, and you realise you want to stay there. You want to keep seeing his smile and keep spending time with him and you don’t want this Christmas to end.

The songs draws to a close and you step away from his embrace. He seems to sense your sudden change in mood.

“Is everything ok?” He asks you and you nod, smiling in a way you hope is reassuring.

“Yeah. I just noticed how cold it’s getting, is all. Shall we head back home?” You ask. Taehyung blinks and glances around as if he’s just now realising how cold it is. He shivers and steps in close to you.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He admits. “Let’s head home.” He wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your biceps to try and warm you up. “Did you have fun, though?” He asks eagerly.

“Yeah.” You say, and this time the smile isn’t forced. “Yeah, I did.”

A week later, you’re stressed and bustling around the kitchen like a madwoman.

“Is it golden brown yet or is it just the oven light?” Taehyung wonders, attempting to peer into your oven without opening the door. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just check now?”

Your realisation of your feelings hadn’t changed too much around the apartment. As work for the year finally drew to a close this week, you hadn’t really had a chance to overthink it, and then you’d been busy planning a pre-Christmas dinner upon learning that Taehyung has always wanted to try a family Christmas dinner. You’d insisted upon throwing one despite his protests that he was the Christmas Spirit, not you. Finally, he had relented, and you were keen to return all the memories he had given you tenfold.

Only a couple of your friends had still been without plans, this late into December. Jin always manages to make time where food is involved, and Dahyun had had to cancel flights back home for the year. She’s also dragging along an old friend of hers, Jungkook, and then Nayeon had invited Namjoon and Jihyo. They’re all good friends of yours, but there’s something about organising a home-cooked Christmas meal that is just inherently stressful.

“The recipe says another ten minutes.” You remind Taehyung in between your attempts to both whip the cream for dessert and finish placing all the appetisers into sufficiently aesthetic containers.

Taehyung frowns, and straightens. He watches you dance around in a frazzled manner for a few minutes, before catching you by the shoulders.

“Hey.” He scolds. “I know I said I wanted a Christmas dinner, but not at the expense of your sanity. I don’t appreciate you undoing all my hard work of making you enjoy Christmas.”

You stiffen at the warmth of his palms against your shoulders before taking a deep breath.

“You’re right.” You finally say. “I’m sorry. I just... I want you to have a good time. I’ve had so much fun these past few weeks and I want you to feel what I feel. I never thought I could ever look forward to something like Christmas, and yet here I am, throwing an entire Christmas dinner.”

“Seeing you enjoy Christmas and smiling like this makes me feel happier than you can imagine, (Y/N),” Taehyung reassures you. “This dinner is just a bonus. I’m grateful for it, but what would make me feel the best is if you’re having a good time.”

There he goes again. He’s remarkably smooth for a strange mystical being that was raised in the North Pole. He’s just so good at making your stomach feel like it’s filled with butterflies and making your heart forget to beat. With a deep, resigned sigh, you nod to him.

“Ok. I’ll chill out.” You promise, before returning to your preparations in a far more mellow manner.

Guests start trickling in. Jin just barely manages to avoid a throttling when you see him, after his stunt where he didn’t show up when there was an intruder in your home. It all worked out fine, but it’s always offensive to learn that your friend would leave you to die because he had “an oven emergency”. Jungkook and Dahyun come in bickering over the intricacies over some meme they’d seen, and Jihyo drags in far too much alcohol for the night.

The night settles into a comfortable sort of atmosphere- people scatter across the living space of your apartment, catching up and just generally enjoying the vibe. Taehyung gets a few probing questions into the nature of your relationship and Jin seems to develop some sort of facial tic with all the eyebrow wagging he’s doing, but otherwise things go smoothly.

At least until it becomes apparent that Jin had taken the liberty of doing some decorating of his own while you were setting up for dinner.

Namjoon and Jihyo are the first of the victims to the numerous mistletoes Jin has concealed around your home. Luckily, they are dating and so it’s just a quick peck between them to the sounds of laughter and hooting.

At least until the other attendees realise that if Jin has hidden multiple mistletoes around your home, at any moment they could fall victim to a dreaded mistletoe kiss, with a completely undesired partner.

From there, things devolve into a terrified, suspicious sort of scavenger hunt. Jin thinks it’s hilarious, watching you all scour the place like sniffer dogs, comfortably reclined on the couch as he shouts out hints that could be true or could be total lies. It’s always hard to tell with him.

Of course Taehyung, poor, sweet naive Taehyung, had missed the dramatic revelation of Jin’s prank. He had been in the kitchen, dutifully monitoring dessert as it slowly cooked in the oven, and he had only stepped out to check with you when you thought it would be done.

You feel him tap your shoulder in the middle of combing through your mantle, making sure Jin hadn’t hidden anything amidst the photo frames and decorations that sat there. You jump, surprised, and turn to face him.

Only for Jin’s screeching laughter to reach you.

“Victims number 2!” He calls triumphantly. Taehyung looks confused, and you grimace as you finally spot the offending object. A small bit of mistletoe twisted in amongst the tinsel lining your ceiling. You’re not even sure how the madman actually got it there without anyone noticing.

“Mistletoe!” Dahyun chants, from where she’d been pressed into a corner and snarling at anyone who dared walk close enough to her lest she too fall victim to the mistletoe. “Mistletoe. Mistletoe. Mistletoe.” Slowly everyone joins the chant until your apartment sounds a bit like a cult.

“Let’s not be hasty!” You plead. “Think about it. If you let me off, then we can all ignore this silly tradition.”

Taehyung, interestingly, has gone very still upon realising the two of you stand beneath a mistletoe.

“(Y/N).” he calls, audible only to you beneath the chanting. “We can’t leave. It’s a mistletoe- I have to.”

You squint at him.

“What do you mean? It’s just a silly tradition, why would you have to-“ you begin, before trailing away as it occurs to your that Taehyung is actually not a human. This isn’t two friends caught beneath a mistletoe and talking their way out of a silly tradition. Taehyung is a Christmas Spirit and thus bound to different rules to you. “Oh.” You breathe. “So I have to... do that?”

With a deep blush that nearly rivals the brilliant red of his hair, Taehyung nods. You wince and let your gaze drop. His mouth is a soft pink- one of the first things you’d bought on that first shopping trip had been lip balm after he’d seen you applying your own. He applies it meticulously and his lips are always faintly glossy and soft looking. This close you can count the tiny moles that sit against his skin like little stars, and you feel a little bit like your heart is in danger when you finally draw your gaze back up to meet his.

His expression is a little hard to interpret, but you don’t let yourself overthink it. You slide your palms up around the back of his neck and tug his mouth down to press against yours.

Taehyung makes a little surprised noise when you do, and it makes you blush. The smell of peppermint and cinammon is strong but captivating, and you wish you could stay there. You wish you could keep kissing him, but you know it’s wrong.

With a sigh, you pull back. Taehyung’s eyes are round and mystified and the blush sits high on his cheeks. His tongue darts out to swipe his lips and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“I...” his gaze flickers down and then he averts his gaze quickly. Around you, your friends let out a few wolf whistles before returning to the panicked search for any other offending items. Taehyung’s breathing seems a little faster and you can’t say you’re in much better state. “I just came out to ask you about the dessert.” He finally manages, though his voice comes out a little raspy. You nod, hoping he doesn’t think much of the way you mirror his fierce blush.

“Right...” you say awkwardly. “I’ll just... go and check on it.”

You dart around him, heading straight for the kitchen.

When you are there, you take advantage of the lack of other party guests and bury your face in your hands. It was just a mistletoe kiss, it didn’t mean anything and yet your traitorous heart is rioting in your chest, threatening to go on strike. Your mind can’t help replaying the moment- his lips on yours, his familiar, striking scent, the scratch of his ugly Christmas jumper beneath your fingers. The size of this stupid crush is embarrassingly enormous.

It takes a few moments, but you manage to regain your composure enough to discover that the dessert is very slightly undercooked, which you know Jin will bitch and moan about, but everyone else won��t mind. It’s nothing copious amounts of ice cream or custard won’t cover up.

When you step out into your living room, it seems the panic over the mistletoes has settled. Jungkook had smothered Jin until he caved and gave up all the locations and now your living room has devolved into a ridiculous Christmas dance party- Jin and Dahyun belt out the lyrics to Last Christmas with absurd amounts of drama and gravitas, and Jihyo and Namjoon are curled up on the couch, murmuring to each other softly. Jungkook has gotten ahold of Taehyung and is currently trying to teach him ridiculous tiktok dances, and all-in-all it’s kind of a dream vibe for a Christmas party. No pain, or fighting, or tears. Just warmth and laughter, and a shared camraderie of the season.

You find yourself smiling as you finally admit to yourself that maybe Taehyung was right.

Christmas isn’t so bad after all.

After everyone goes home, you and Taehyung are left to the cleanup.

It’s a bit awkward, standing shoulder to shoulder after the kiss. His movements are slow and hesitant, like if you move too quickly he’ll get frightened and bolt. But gradually you settle into a kind of rhythm, tidying things up together and you can’t resist asking him about the party. It had been for his sake, after all.

“Did you have fun?” You ask. Taehyung jumps from where he’d been gently working the sponge into a lather and a clang rings through the kitchen. The silence seems more pressing after the loudness of your party.

“Um... it was good.” He says, though his voice is a little high and squeaky. “I had a lot of fun- your friends seem nice.”

“It’s not really a family dinner.” You admit sheepishly. He pauses and offers you a smile, and the pleasant expression on his face seems to thaw through the lingering ice in the room.

“No, don’t be silly.” He tells you. “It was everything I could have hoped for. Except for Jin’s interpretative dance to Santa baby. I feel like I could have gone without that.”

You laugh and shake your head, stepping in close to pluck plates off the drying rack and drying them off.

“This was nothing. Wait till lizzo comes on and then you’ll see peak Seokjin.” You sigh. But then your expression changes and you offer Taehyung a smile. His eyes drop for just a fraction of a second, so quick you think you’ve imagined it, before raising quickly back to your eyes. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

He nods, and hums, still making his way through the pile of dirty dishes.

“What about you?” He asks. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You pause to think about it. The laughter of your friends, the silly Christmas carols, the snap of Christmas bonbons.... you did. You really, truly enjoyed yourself in a way you didn’t think you could and it’s thanks to the man before you. The man who patiently waited for you to come home each evening to eat dinner with you, and who dragged you across the city to places he thought you’d enjoy... he’s truly a magical person.

“I really did. It’s gotten me so excited for the rest of the year, to be honest. Are there any other Christmas traditions we can do? Christmas is almost here, but what about New Year’s? We could do something fun then too.” You suggest. Suddenly the season seems so bright and exciting, and the fact that there’s a whole week and a half left to December leaves you unbelievably excited.

Taehyung pauses from where he scrapes at a stubborn crumb on your baking tray.

“What?” He asks, and his voice goes strangely soft, and tentative. You blink- something about his tone makes you uneasy.

“For after Christmas.” You clarify. “You’ve already got Christmas planned out for us, right? So I can plan something for New Year’s. Return the favour.”

By now, Taehyung has completely stopped cleaning. He doesn’t look at you, and stares straight ahead.

“There... there isn’t an “after Christmas”, (Y/N).” He confesses. Your heart drops into your stomach. He turns to face you, and for once, his eyes aren’t bright, and filled with joy. They’re dark and miserable.

“What?” You breathe, trying to speak past the sudden shattering sensation in your chest. “Why... why not?”

“I’m a Christmas Spirit.” He reminds you. “I bring Christmas Cheer and then I go back in a box for the rest of the year.”

You blink- you feel like you aren’t hearing him right, or just not comprehending things.

“Why? I can just not put you away. Why can’t there be an “after Christmas”?” You urge. You step in close, fighting past the sudden panic in your chest. “How could I just put you back in a box for the rest of the year? That’s crazy! Just, don’t go in the box.”

“It’s not that simple.” He protests. “There are rules, (Y/N). I can’t just ignore them. My job is to make you happy during Christmas and then that’s it. That’s what I was born and raised to do. That’s what I spent 25 years waiting for.”

Your eyes widen.

“But surely there’s another way? Surely you don’t want to be in the box.” You cry. You step in close and grab his hand, pulling it towards you pleadingly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” He says, and there’s a resigned note of finality to his tone. “After Christmas, that’s it. I lose the strength to turn into a human. You can keep my out of the box, but it doesn’t make a difference. It ends on Christmas night.”

That makes you fall silent as you finally learn the full truth. You’d been so busy having fun that you hadn’t thought about what comes next. You’d stupidly let yourself believe that you could just keep having fun with Taehyung. You hadn’t thought about the logistics or the long term of it. You feel like you’ve been slapped.

Christmas has an end date.

Taehyung spots the tears forming in the corners of your eyes before you do, and his expression softens at the sight.

“It’s not fair.” You rasp. Somehow, he manages to pull a smile from somewhere, though it’s tinged with a deep sadness that makes more tears spill forth. He steps in close and pulls your face into his chest.

“I know.” He soothes. “It is. It’s unfair. I want to... I want to stay. But I can’t.”

You can’t keep your composure after that, and the sobs come in in full force.

“I wanted to keep having fun with you.” You bawl, and he just shushes you with a tighter hug.

“I did too.” He confesses. “But it just means we have to have even more fun until Christmas. Can you do that for me, (Y/N)?” He breaks the hug so that he can gaze into your eyes, smoothing the tears from your cheeks. “Please.” He begs. And you see the way his own eyes are red and moist.

You want to tell him you absolutely cannot. That if he’s going to make Christmas fun and then leave you at the end, he can leave right now. Before you fall even harder. Before it’s too hard to say goodbye.

But you’re a fool. A masochistic, lovestruck, weak fool. You can’t look into his eyes and tell him no. Not when you know what this means to him; you can’t take away his first Christmas for selfish reason.

“Ok.” You finally rasp. “I’ll do it.”

You’re walking off a cliff face with your eyes wide open.

For once Taehyung’s smile isn’t enough to comfort you.

Christmas day dawns cold and subdued. The days following dinner had been warm, but quiet. Reserved. Like you both knew a goodbye was coming and didn’t want to acknowledge it. You spend one night curled up in your car at an outdoor theatre, laughing along to some silly Christmas comedy, and another day is spent going bobsledding. You both go through the motions of merriment, but it’s clear that neither of your hearts are in it. It’s hard to be enthusiastic and merry when each precious moment that passes is one step closer to when he turns back into a scarecrow.

When you step out in the kitchen, Taehyung is making breakfast already. He sees you and smiles.

“Good morning.” He calls. “Merry Christmas.”

It triggers a pang in your chest as his words confirm that this is truly your last day with him.

“Merry Christmas.” You yawn, attempting to conceal the way your heart aches by settling into a chair at your table.

Taehyung scurries over, a plate in each hand.

“Breakfast is ready.” He declares. He’s gotten quite creative in his cooking- he can now manage a fairly decent semi-scrambled omelette and his bacon is surprisingly crispy. You’re eager to see what he has prepared for Christmas Day.

When he sets it down in front of you, however, you glimpse the Santa pancakes he made that first day. Your face falls. Two familiar blueberry eyes stare dolefully up at you and even the banana smile seems less curved and cheerful. It’s clear Taehyung had been a little distracted making them, because they’re not as carefully put together as that first meal. But the sentiment behind them still stands; that Taehyung cooks for you. He likes seeing you smile and he goes to absurd lengths to get you to enjoy yourself and he has for the entire month of December. He’s come to mean so much to you in such a short span of time- somehow he’s made a season that previously only meant cold and misery become a time of warmth and laughter. And now you have to say goodbye, before you’ve even started. There’s so many adventures the two of you could go on together, and yet you don’t get to. It’s so cruel. You’re alarmed when the tears come, unbidden.

Taehyung watches the expressions play out across your face, before wordlessly reaching out with the sleeve of his sweater to wipe the tears that fall away. His touch is gentle and his expression somber. He hasn’t even donned his usual Santa’s hat.

“I’m sorry.” You say, in a small voice. “I know I said I wouldn’t cry.”

He shakes his head and smiles, pulling his chair up so that it’s seated as close as possible to you.

“It’s ok. Just means I have to work a little harder. I wanna see that pretty smile, before I go.” He reassures you. You sniff and scrub at your eyes before staring determinedly at your pancakes.

“Ok.” You say. “Let’s do this, then.”

Taehyung searches your expression, and you’re not sure what he sees there, but it seems to satisfy him. You feel that the last few days, his smiles had been duller and decidedly less genuine, but this time he hits you with the full force of his dazzling smile.

“First things first, we have to open presents!” He cheers. You frown.

“But I don’t have any presents-“ you protest, but Taehyung cuts you off with a sharp rush of air through his teeth.

“Then what’s that?” He questions innocently, gesturing to your ratty Christmas tree.

And sure enough, beneath it is laden with presents. You stare at it for a long time.

“I didn’t get you anything.” You finally admit. Taehyung laughs.

“You enjoying my gifts is the present.” He says dismissively, before crowding you towards the tree. “Anyway, it’s a universal Christmas tradition to open your presents after breakfast, and I have failed you as a Christmas Spirit if we don’t do that.”

He slides the first gift towards you and eyes you coyly. “Open this one first.” He urges you.

They’re all small gifts, relatively inexpensive. You’re not expecting Swarovski crystals from Taehyung considering he’s an unemployed Christmas Spirit. But each gift is thoughtful and sweet and bought specifically with you and your tastes in mind. By the time you open the last of the presents, you’re fighting off tears again.

“I didn’t get you anything.” You lament, sniffling slightly as you set the last gift aside. Taehyung’s eyebrows wrinkle together and his mouth pulls into a pout.

“I already told you. Just being here is a gift for me.” He insists. “Besides, it’s not like I can use anything you give me for eleven months.”

That causes you to fall silent. You bite your lip as you look away. You had been determined not to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but you can’t do it. You can’t spend the day pretending you’re not on the verge of tears.

“I know I said I wouldn’t. But I can’t keep pretending this isn’t going to happen, Tae.” You say, and when he looks at you, you know it’s the first chink in his armour. He’s held it together considerably better than you, and you’d thought maybe it just didn’t bother him. After all, you were the one with feelings, not him. “At least... you can answer questions, right? If I know more, maybe it will hurt less.”

But looking at him now, you realise that he’s been fighting to stay composed to.

“What do you want to know?” He finally says, and he’s quiet. Defeated. So unlike the optimistic, cheerful being you’d come to adore.

“Are you trapped? Will it be be uncomfortable?” You question. “Can you still hear me? Will you... will you be lonely?”

“Not exactly.” He reassures you. “I look like a human but I’m also a glorified Christmas ornament. Time and events are different when I’m a scarecrow. It’s hard to explain.... but it’s not so bad. It’s just... how I am. I’m waiting, but I’m not trapped.” He explains vaguely. “I can hear and see what’s going on, but I just process things differently. Time just... feels different.”

You nod, a little comforted that at least you’re not sending your friend to be trapped in a prison of his own body for eleven months.

“Am I meant to pass you on to someone else?” You ask. “Or do I keep you here?”

“I guess...” He looks uncertain, and tentative. “I guess it depends how your year goes. Eleven months...” his voice cracks and he clears it awkwardly to hide it. “It’s a long time. You can keep me here, and I’ll see you next December, if you need a little extra help enjoying the season... or you can pass me on to someone else if you don’t need me anymore.”

He’s right. Eleven months is such a long time. Long enough to forget Taehyung and his bright smile and cheery disposition. Long enough to spend next Christmas with your family and pretend like things are ok between you. Long enough... long enough to forget just how much your heart aches today, and fool yourself into doing the exact same thing next year.

“What do you want?” You finally settle on. It’s the last question of the interrogation. After this, you can pretend everything is ok. You can go on like nothing’s wrong.

Taehyung’s eyes go wide. He points at himself, bewildered by your question.

“What do... I want?” He echoes, as if he’s never heard the words before. You nod.

“I want you to spend Christmas happy.” You confess. “So where do you want to be, next Christmas?”

He’s quiet for so long you’re worried that his brain has stopped functioning or that his weird Christmas Spirit voodoo has kicked in. But when he finally looks at you again, his eyes shine with so much emotion that your heart aches in your chest at the sight.

“I want to be here.” He finally says. “I want to spend Christmas with you again. There’s so many things we still didn’t get to try, and I want to do them all.”

Your throat goes tight, because yet again, you’re signing yourself up for heartbreak. If you do this, you’re the only one who will be hurt. Pining alone for most of the year for a season you used to hate. The irony of the situation is not lost on you.

But you’re helpless to him, to his smile and his sweetness and his warmth, and you can’t say goodbye.

“Ok.” You agree. “Then you’ll stay with me. Now let’s have some fun.”

The day must inevitably draw to a close. Though you and Taehyung linger at every activity, attempting to draw out each moment, the point in the day comes where the two of you are back at the apartment, with the time drawing closer and closer to midnight.

You unlock your apartment door with trembling fingers and inhale a shaking breath. You glance over your shoulder at Taehyung. He’s a broad-shouldered person, tall and imposing were it not for the warmth of his eyes and his puppy-like demeanour and normally he just seems larger than life. But in that moment, he’s so small and uncertain.

There’s so much you could say. You could plead with him; try and see if there’s a way to bargain out of the inevitable goodbye. Or you could thank him, from the bottom of your heart, for the first enjoyable Christmas you’ve had in your entire life. Crying feels like a viable option too, or getting angry. Your heart can’t seem to settle on a response and so instead it’s settled on numbness. Like it’s cold, lifeless hunk of metal rattling around in your ribcage.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Is what you finally settle on. He stares searching at your expression, before nodding to himself and squaring his shoulders

“Yeah. That sounds fun. I’ll make us some hot chocolate as well.” He says, stepping past you into the foyer.

You eventually settle on watching the Polar Express. When you sit on the couch, Taehyung sits far too close and tugs a blanket over both your laps. He hands you a mug of hot chocolate and the two of you settle into a peaceful quiet, opposite from the laughter and activity of the daytime. The evening melancholy seems to have settled in. The whole movie, you don’t really pay attention, instead trying not to think about the way the clock on the wall seems to be moving quickly.

“(Y/N).” You’re startled when Taehyung calls your name. It’s out of the blue, and you hadn’t noticed the way he’s steadily edged closer until the words are said almost directly into your ear. You’d been watching the clock instead of the movie, and you think for a moment that he intends to reprimand you. You turn to look at him and the proximity startles the breath out of you. “It’s almost midnight.” He tells you, as if you haven’t been glaring the clock down for most of the night.

It’s true, though- the minute hand is edging closer and closer to the dreaded twelve. It makes you realise that he’s been eyeing the clock as well.

“So it is.” You acknowledge, and he’s so close that his breath skates against the skin of your cheeks, staring at you with an intensity you don’t understand.

“Did I... Did I do a good job?” He asks you. You press your lips together; in a way he did. You think you may have smiled in this month alone more than you have the entire year. But you also know that the rest of the year will now pale in comparison; the rest of winter will leech by, depressingly dreary, and summer will come and go in muddy heat. The year will both inch and speed by and that whole time you will have the special month of December in mind. The times you spent with Taehyung.

“You did.” You finally say. “I... Christmas was always so lonely and miserable to me. Where we tried to pretend that things were ok and merry and it would just dissolve into screaming matches. But with you, it wasn’t. You helped me make it into something warm, and beautiful. And even though...” your voice cracks, and it takes you a moment to reclaim your composure. “Even though the ending will be lonely and sad, you gave me all these wonderful memories. I’ll hear a Christmas carol and think of you from now on, Taehyung.”

When you finally gain the courage to meet his gaze, you’re startled to find tears pouring down his cheeks. He’s been sad and a little misty-eyed ever since he admitted he wouldn’t be around after Christmas, but he’s also been frustratingly composed.

But in that moment, he’s anything but. He looks devastated as he brings his hands up to press into his eyes in a vain attempt to stem the flow of tears.

“I’m sorry.” He gasps. “I tried so hard but... I never imagined Christmas would be like this. I was only supposed to make you smile and then go back to being a scarecrow and that should have been enough but it’s not.”

He’s full on sobbing now, and you can only stare in bewilderment as tears form in your own eyes.

“I want to spend New Year’s Eve with you, and start the New Year together. I want to see you on your birthday. I want to see you on happy days and sad days. I want to...” he rubs his eyes clear and stares straight at you. “I want to make you smile the whole year.” He confesses.

And that’s when your phone goes off. You’d set an alarm, earlier in the morning, so that you’d know the exact moment midnight hit. You glance away, for just a moment, dread hitting you full force like a sledgehammer.

And when you turn back, it’s too late. The familiar little scarecrow stares up at you from the couch, where Taehyung had been seated just moments before.

And you finally let yourself break down at the sight of the familiar button eyes.

And just like that, Christmas is over.

“Why does your apartment smell like someone’s been dumped?” Jin sniffs as he steps through the threshold of your home, uninvited as usual. You’re not sure how he got in, but he probably had a copy of your key made somehow without you noticing. He’s prone to doing invasive things like that.

“Being dumped doesn’t have a smell.” You snap, from where you had been curled up on the couch under a mound of blankets.

“Yes it does.” He insists. “It smells like...” he pauses to take one long, obnoxious sniff to the air before wrinkling his nose. “B.O. and cheetos.” He recites.

You sigh, still not bothering to shift from your blanket nest. You’d been expecting his visit, to be honest. It’s the day before New Year’s Eve and you haven’t responded to his annual New Year’s Eve Bash invite. He’s very intense about RSVPs.

“What do you want, Jin?” You ask. He picks his way delicately towards you, navigating his way through your semi-dissembled Christmas tree before settling before you in a crouch. You’d made it part-way through the post-Christmas clean up before you’d been too upset to continue.

“Well, you aren’t answering my texts or calls. Zero activity on social media, no RSVP to my party... So I thought I’d make sure you hadn’t choked on a piece of tinsel.” He looks around your apartment with distaste. “I’m actually not sure if I’m relieved that you’re ok if this is what “ok” looks like.”

You ignore him, choosing to focus your attention back to Netflix. His expression softens, just a fraction.

“Tell me what’s going on, (Y/N). And where’s.. where’s Taehyung?” He questions tentatively.

You’re unable to conceal the way your shoulders stiffen, just slightly, at the mention of his name. You’ve been doing your best in the five days since Christmas to bounce back and return to normal life, but you can’t seem to. It’s easier to lounge around on the couch than to muster up the emotional energy to pretend you’re ok. You’ve spent too long pretending you’re ok. There isn’t a single drop of you left that can even try to do so.

“He had to go.” You say, hating the way your voice goes abruptly raw with tears. Jin’s eyes widen just slightly, and he shuffles closer.

“What do you mean he had to go? He’s-“ As he said the words, his eyes had been darting wildly around the apartment, but he abruptly cuts himself off when he spots the scarecrow on your mantle. “Why is Taehyung...” he begins, before his gaze flickers to you.

“Oh.” He exclaims simply, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, (Y/N).” He says, his voice filled with sympathy and sadness on your behalf.

You’re surprised when Jin engulfs you in a hug. You’ve never had that sort of friendship- he prefers to show his love by nagging you. But it’s weirdly comforting and you melt into his embrace.

“I’m sorry I didn’t RSVP.” You say glumly. “I didn’t feel like celebrating.”

Jin pulls away and scrutinises your expression.

“Forgive me if it seems probing, but I don’t understand what happened. You guys seemed like you were going great at dinner the other night.” He says. “Why... why didn’t you use his wish?”

You pull back and blink at him in confusion.

“His... wish?” You echo. Jin nods.

“All Christmas Spirit receive one wish for their entire career. It was instituted recently, though, maybe only in the last twenty years or so, so maybe Taehyung didn’t know about it?” Jin wonders.

Your eyes widen.

“Christmas Spirit?” You splutter. “You mean you knew?”

For someone who’s dropping a bombshell, Jin looks remarkably deadpan.

“Of course I knew. You think I wouldn’t notice a Christmas Spirit living in my store for five years?” He questions you with exasperation.

You stare at him incredulously.

“And you never thought, just once, that it would be a good idea to tell me what I was bringing home?” You demand. He rolls his eyes.

“Oh please. Like you would have believed me.” He says dismissively. “Little Miss Grinch, hates Christmas, told her weird Christmas Scarecrow is actually a special Christmas Spirit? I’m a simple man, (Y/N). I see an opportunity for a great Hallmark movie, I take it.”

You stare at him in rage, and then something occurs to you.

“That’s why you never came when I texted you that night! You knew it was Taehyung!” You realise in horror. “What if you had been wrong?”

At least he has enough sense of propriety to look sheepish.

“Taehyung would have helped you if I was wrong.” He offers meekly. The change in pace of conversation has you deflating.

“If you knew... why did you let him go home with me? I could have spent Christmas at home, alone, and not be dealing with any of this.” You confess, and Jin softens just a little bit.

“Well, because I didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone.” He admits. “Every year, you’re so miserable. And I thought Taehyung could change that. And honestly, I didn’t think it would end up like this and even if I did, I thought Taehyung would use his wish.”

“What wish?” You ask. Jin shrugs.

“Every Christmas Spirit gets one wish throughout their career. Usually it ends up being that they become human, but I know of some who have wished for other things.” He admits. You brows knit together as you gaze at your friend. Where is all this knowledge coming from?

“Jin... just who are you?” You ask hesitantly. He smiles awkwardly and rubs at the back of his neck.

“I’m Jin. The same Jin you’ve known for years. But before that, I was a little Christmas bear who spent years trying to make people happy on Christmas day.” He admits. “And one year... I’d had enough. So I wished that I could be human. And here I am today.” He smiles at you. “And it’s not too late. Taehyung can still do the same.” He glances over at your mantle, where the motionless Christmas Scarecrow sits. “Anyway, I have to get going. I was just coming to make sure you were alive.” He gets up and dusts off his pants. “Maybe give the apartment a clean, and then you can sit down and have a nice, long chat with that scarecrow over there.”

He makes to leave, but can’t resist tossing one last comment over his shoulder.

“I’m just going to assume you’re bringing a plus one. I’ll change your response to “going” on the fb invite.”

One clean apartment later, you stand before your mantle, gazing into the button eyes of the scarecrow. It’s weird to know that behind them, Taehyung watches you. What is he thinking? Is he sad? Lonely? Trapped? Is he listening?

You’re strangely nervous. Taehyung had told you that he’d wanted to spend the rest of the year with you, but maybe he changed his mind. Maybe watching you lounge around your apartment the past five days made him realise how lame you are. And if he only gets one wish in his entire career, why would he waste it now? He’s only had one Christmas to live out his purpose as a Christmas Spirit- maybe he’s not ready to give it up yet. Maybe you’re asking too much of him. It’s only been a month; to ask him to become human and face the horrors of the human world is maybe the cruelest thing you could do.

But your heart yearns, and ultimately that it what gives you the courage to begin speaking.

“I... don’t know how much you heard of what Jin said earlier.” You admit. “He pretty loud so you probably heard at least some of it. But the basic gist... is that you get a wish. Only one wish, so once you use it, that’s it. So, you have to use it wisely.”

You look away and squeeze your eyes shut.

“And, I understand if you want to save it. You’ve only just started out and maybe you want more time. But I was thinking... if all that stuff you said before is true... Maybe you can use it now. To be a human.” You inhale shakily. The offer is out in the open now.

The scarecrow doesn’t move.

“I mean, maybe you didn’t. That’s ok. I’ll be ok if you don’t actually want to spend the rest of the year with me. It’s a lot to ask when it’s only been a month. But I want to.” You squint and you feel the hot prick of tears forming at the corner of your eyes. “This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I’ve never smiled so much before, and so easily. Something about you makes it so easy. And I was never brave enough to say it, but I like your smile too. I like it so much. It’s ridiculous that you can say my smile is lovely when you can look in the mirror and see what your smile looks like. And I... I don’t want to only get to see it on Christmas. I don’t want to spend eleven months waiting for you but the ridiculous part is that I will.” You admit. “I’ll just keep comparing things to the time I spent with you. I’ll spend eleven months of the year waiting for you’re smile. And that’s because... I really like you, Tae. So much- no, too much. I like you too much.” You’re full on crying at this point. “So please. Spend it on me. Wish to be a human. Wish to be here the rest of the year.”

You fall silent, and still, the scarecrow stares at you. Unmoving, unchanging.

You smile helplessly, before scrubbing at your eyes. He doesn’t want to use his wish. That’s ok. He doesn’t have to. It was stupid of you to think that he would.

You sniffle and open your eyes.

Only to be engulfed by two arms around your body.

“I like you too much as well.” Taehyung gasps. It takes you a moment to process- your face is smushed into his chest and his arms hold you securely. “I didn’t know about the wish. But... I want to keep spending time with you. I’d have spent it on you a hundred times over if I’d known.”

You go to pull away so that you can see his face, but he doesn’t give you the chance to because his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a sweet kiss but also a little clumsy and eager. Like he’s worried time is running out.

Gradually, the urgency fades and he pulls away. At this proximity, you can see the way his lashes frame his bright eyes, and the way his eyes crinkle into little tiny half moons. It’s a little surreal, being able to gaze upon him so freely when just last week you’d been prepared for a goodbye.

“So... you’re a human now? You get to stay?” You ask. He pulls back and squints at himself.

“I guess so. I can’t seem to turn back into a scarecrow so I guess... that I’m human now.” He says.

You kiss him again, after that. It’s soft and sweet and perfect. When you pull away, his eyes are hazy and his expression is unfocused. He looks adorably dishevelled and distracted, and then he offers you that smile, the one that makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. His fingers come up to delicately trail over the paths of your face, like he’s trying to memorise what you look like.

“You’re smiling.” He breathes, his tone filled with wonder. His thumb comes up to reverently trace the curve of your lips. “It was your smile.” He confesses. You blink up at him in confusion and he chuckles in response. “It threw me off guard. At the ornament store. Up until that point I’d been so nervous whether I was in over my head with the whole Christmas spirit thing. And then you smiled at me and it wasn’t even because of anything I’d even done and suddenly I wanted to keep that smile on your face.”

You flush, a bit flustered by his admission, but he isn’t finished, apparently.

“It’s so pretty. You’re pretty.” He insists. “When you kissed me under the mistletoe I thought my heart was going to burst and then I remembered what I was. That I’m a Christmas Spirit and that I don’t get to do this. I get your smile at Christmas and then that’s it.” He smiles self-deprecatingly at himself before it shifts into something warmer, and fonder. “But now... now...” he trails away, too emotional to continue and he settles for pulling you into another tight embrace, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. All you can smell is that comforting scent of peppermint and cinnamon, and you melt. “Now I get your smiles the rest of the year too. I can’t wait to spend the rest of the year with you.” He confesses, a soft, whispered confession into the warm crook of your neck.

And there’s lots to do, and things you need to work out now that Taehyung is by your side as a human. Your relationship with your parents isn’t fixed, and he doesn’t have a job or a source of income, and there’s still some remaining Christmas decorations that need to be placed in storage.

But that’s ok. You’ll both work all that out together eventually. After all, you have the rest of the year to do so.

#thebtswritersclub #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #castlebangtan #taehyung fluff #writing #secret santa

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