#and then do not even get me started on winter. snow? books. coffee again. baked goods again. and the colors.....
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i would really like to organize my digital presence, so i made a side blog for more personal rambly posts and whatever else!!
@sublux if you want to follow :)
#i kinda wanna like..... turn pollen into a more seasonal blog. i'm obsessed with seasons and festivity and holidays and stuff#and like. i love outside this time of year and it's a good time for baked goods and coffee and all of that. many beautiful posts to be rb'd#and then do not even get me started on winter. snow? books. coffee again. baked goods again. and the colors.....#but i also think just doing like a green / brown / grey / white thing could be cool too.#nothing major would change like i'd post the same stuff just more thematically organized#idk can you tell i was a vintage blogger in 2012. the blog is not fun unless it has a theme
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it's strange how possible it is to still love someone who hurt you so deeply, how almost unavoidable it is sometimes.
a person can rewire your entire brain with the things they do, your instincts, your thought processes, your ability even to love other people and you can still catch yourself in moments of nostalgia for them. you can still find yourself loving them, cherishing the memories you have with them and the time you knew them at the very same time that you're thanking god you made it out alive, that you're hoping you never see them again.
the year i was eighteen was the worst of my life, but i have some of the sweetest memories of my first apartment. i think about that first morning all the time, when i woke up and she was standing at the end of my bed. there was this particular Saturday kind of light coming in from the window, and she was holding a drink carrier with McDonald's iced coffees, she woke up before me and ordered them for us. we hadn't unpacked anything yet, the day before we had moved all of our boxes in and then went to a concert. we eased into it though, we spent the whole morning moving boxes around but not opening any of them. we just wanted to make enough space in the living room so that we could set up our TV and watch Big Mouth like we had talked about doing so many times during the months leading up to finally moving in.
we would sit in this parking lot behind the skatepark in our garbage hometown and pass a bong back and forth (it was shaped like a skull and we had named it Julie, but i don't remember why). she drove this ancient brown truck that was so shitty, the weed smell was so deeply embedded into all of the seats that you could smell it from across a parking lot, eventually she stopped even taking it to campus. every morning we would meet at this apartment building across the street from our school and i would drive us. we would leave her truck there. she would only fill the gas tank a quarter way up, and we had to jump it all the time, and drive down the dirt roads with its flat tires, but it had a huge center console and we would use it like a coffee table, and it was warm throughout the winter, and the seats were big enough to sleep in for all the nights we got drunk on Malibu rum parked behind the skatepark. it snowed a lot that winter and we were dumb and seventeen and all we wanted was to move to Denver, but the truck was warm, and we would watch Big Mouth on one of our phones and talk about how by the summer we would be watching it in our new apartment; it was a fantasy but we were right! that was the best part, we were right.
but we didn't know how much more than just that would happen in that place.
we would get drunk a lot, and her boyfriend would come over all the time, but mine never would because she hated him. so i would lie to her and tell her i was going to spend the night at my grandparents' house, like i was having an affair. sometimes i would be really clever about it and bring home books, or baked goods, or dish towels, and i would have all the evidence of being exactly where i said i was. that was before she started reading my journal and tracking my location, and then there was no point in lying anymore. we would share music, and run errands, and go to concerts. i still think the hardest i've ever laughed in my life was with her. we would talk to each other in silly voices and accents, and secret languages, and we would fight with each other in code words, and writing on the wall, and text messages.
to rival the memory of her holding the coffees at the end of my bed in the morning, i have another one of her standing in my bedroom doorway with a bottle of wine in the middle of the night. that was the night she assaulted me, and then made me talk to the police officers who showed up at our door when she locked herself in the bathroom screaming. i had to tell them everything was okay, i had to tell them she was okay, and so was i. the next morning she was gone when i woke up, and when she got home she told me she had spent the whole day driving around the city looking for drugs. she was violent and pathological. she was my best friend, and i loved her.
on her nineteenth birthday, we drank malt liquor on the living room floor while her boyfriend tried on new clothes in her bedroom. she played this song, Glowing, i'm so sorry to hear that you're going but you'll be happy to know that you're glowing, and she got really close to my face and stared at me really hard. her eyes looked like they were made out of glass and she said, "this song is about you. you're glowing, and you don't even know it, but i need you to know it. you're glowing, you're glowing, you're glowing." it was one of those few fleeting and fragile moments where she loved me too. now that it's over i'm just glad i survived.
and that's the double-sided coin i keep flipping in my mind lately. i worked so hard putting myself back together in the nuclear fallout of our friendship when it was all finally over. it took me a long time to finally feel like myself again. i had to move in with my big brother because no one trusted me to be alone. i have spent the last five years stitching myself back up, icing the bruises she left on my throat, putting scar cream over the places that still hurt - and they do still hurt sometimes, i think maybe they always will. and sometimes, when it's quiet and i'm alone, or i taste Malibu rum, or when i hear one of those songs by one of those bands she loved, or when i become unignorably aware of all the ways she rubbed off me, even though i'm happier now, even though my roses are finally growing back, even though i'm sober now, even after the EMDR and the hospital stays, sometimes it'll hit me that we can never go back; and in some fuzzy and incoherent way, i'll miss it. i'll miss her.
the good and the bad, they don't cancel each other out. they're not equal, not even close. i can still hear the screaming, i can still feel every word she let tear from her throat. i spent more time cleaning up after her than i ever spent with her. i hold everyone at arm's length because of things that happened during that year. she completely restructured how i approach people, and how i avoid them. i have boundaries and fears now that i didn't before, and sometimes on cold nights i'll open my window and the air outside will smell like car exhaust, cinnamon, and ice and i'll hear her music playing from the next room over, i'll feel her weight on the other side of the couch where in my mind we're still sitting, i'll feel that burn in the back of my throat exactly how it was all those years ago.
when those moments come i'm never sure what to make of them. i'm not sure where the pieces of us land when they fall. i have this voice note in my icloud of us talking to each other in the truck and when i listened to it again there were moments when i couldn't tell our voices apart. when you love someone like that, you never really escape them, your love for them will start echoing and stretching, contorting itself, leaking into the love you grow after you lose them. you give pieces of yourself away in order to save room for the pieces of them you're still holding onto. sometimes my new friends will pattern off of me, but the mannerisms they pick up were her's in the beginning. and i'm the only person who will ever know that. when someone you love takes a boxing glove and a loaded gun to all the most tender parts of you, the love doesn't go away. it just bruises. it survives, and it learns to walk with a limp, and so do you, and you heal but it doesn't, and you're forced to find a seat for it at your table, or at least some comfortable box in the attic. it's strange and melancholy, and you have to remember that nostalgia is not famous for its honesty.
i think of her when i catch myself in the act, when i make bad decisions, and i remind myself of all the lessons i've already learned the hard way. she completely changed my life, she's foundational to this person i am, and if i'm lucky she'll never know that. love and pain have become some kind of balancing act that i am always performing. i cannot put either of them down, but in my two hands i now cannot hold anything else.
#personal#performance art#idk what this personal reckoning i've been going through lately is but i'll tell you it's not the most fun i've ever had.#help#i cannot stop connecting the dots#i'm going all the way back i'm getting right to the source
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a/n: and we’ve got another lil valentines day drabble eeee hope you all are staying cuddly and fuzzy!
sweet like strawberry | reader x felix
Paring: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee felix
Genre: fluffy fluff hehe
Tags: valentines day special, coworkers au, friends to lovers, cafe au, two cuties in love, stuck with you au, wintertime au, teeeny bits of magical vibes, mentions of food, teensy bit of food play (sfw but like a leeetle suggestive), that good good makin’ out hehe
Word count: 4.7k
Tagging: @stayhavens thank you for letting me join for Felix as well ❤️
“Oh! And one more thing, for some reason, the security system keeps acting up. If the doors don’t lock up the first time around, just try it a couple more times and I think that it should work...I kind of just try it enough times until it works.”
Felix nervously adjusted his cap with the little embroidered yellow chick.
“Okay. Sounds good to me.”
Your boss tucked his neck deep into his cable scarf, then tipped both you and your coworker a little salute.
“Thank you both for being here on Valentines Day. Just a couple more hours! You can do it!”
The back door to the café slammed shut from the blustering winter wind behind your boss’ coattails.
“It’s really coming down out there isn’t it?” Your friend, and coworker-in-suffering Felix, shifted from foot to foot.
Outside of the shop windows, the howling of wind shook at the shutters of the the display case filled with little mock-up cakes and pastries. The snow storm had been unexpected, but it hadn’t seemed to dampen anyone’s spirits on the holiday. Since the snow had picked up in the afternoon, customers still came rolling into the cafe with flakes all caught up in their hair, scarves and hats. On this day in particular, you had seen dozens of school girls and boys come in carrying their stash of valentines letters, bouquets of flowers and all kinds of candies. Little groups of friends would share slices of your special Valentines Day cake and smear cream over each other’s noses in a tizzy of laughter.
You didn’t mind Valentines Day; there was something extra heartwarming and universal about it all. One day, out of all the days of the year, everyone stopped for just a few moments to say “I love you” or give out an extra hug or kiss on the cheek. How could you not feel all lovey and gushy from it all? Maybe you were a romantic, or maybe you really had just watched one too many dramas to make you feel this way.
Earlier, you had been making a couple lattes, and a couple sitting by the window had arranged to meet right at the loveseat by the door to exchange gifts. One of them had given the other a couple books and a journal, and the other gave them what looked like hand-knitted mittens. They held the frayed fabric in their hands while the watched how their partner reacted. Of course, they accepted the mittens with a wide smile then pulled their love in to give them a giant hug.
I love them. So much. Thank you.
You thought that was what they had said from as far away as you were.
This kind of love, was your favorite kind. The kid of love that was unconditional, that was given no matter what time of day, no matter what it looked like or how it was expressed, it simply was.
You had always hoped, this was the love that you would have some day. But, you hadn’t found it yet. Not in all your years of crushes from afar, or love letters written in the night when you should have ben doing work. You had wondered, what was it really like to have someone love you like that: a love that existed in the early mornings, and dead of the night; the kind of love that looked over at you for no reason, and smiled at you just because.
Perhaps you would spend your whole life looking: and while it saddened you, in a few ways, you had come to terms with it. If you had to wait, that just meant that you were waiting for something really great...right?
You wondered what kind of love Felix wanted. The thought had crossed your mind time and again. You figured, he was the kind to fall in love fast and all the time. He would even get crushes on people who would come to the register to pay for their coffee and custard tart. It was supremely adorable. He’d stammer over his words with hands trembling at the keys of the register, and the tips of his ears would turn rosy pink.
“U-ummm here-here’s your receipt....”
A tiny smile would spread across his freckled face after they would leave, then he would rake his cute little hands though his hair, stammering even more about what a fool he had made of himself.
“Well, when you think about it, you might never see them again?” You’d joke to him with a playful jab to his side.
“But what if I doooooo??”
Maybe Felix was the kind of person who wanted a love that would last forever, or the kind of love that he could daydream about. You thought that this might’ve suited him. It seemed as if that boy was often in a faraway place. There had been a couple times when he would stare out the shop windows wistfully with his mop in hand, or would giggle a little when he made designs into the lattes and mochas. He was just so happy all the time, but for what, you had no idea.
Maybe Felix already had a love. You wouldn’t put it past him seeing how dreamy he was often. Felix deserved love more than anyone in the world you had decided. He deserved some to love him so hard and all the time. Admittedly, it made your heart ache a little thinking about how badly he deserved it. He deserved someone to kiss away on all those freckles on his cheeks on his cute little wrists. He deserved someone to shower all their love into his strawberry pink lips, and ruffle up his golden hair just to make him laugh.
Maybe...you wished that you could’ve been the person to do so.
“Do you think that we’ll get any more customers?”
Felix had squatted down on the floor behind the counter into a pseudo-sitting position. His tan apron crinkled on the ground.
“Don’t you think that everyone’s gone out by now? And the snow is picking up?”
You squatted down next to him. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing anyone else. There’s only one more hour left anyway.”
A sly smirk started to sprout on his lips, “What if we left a little early? No one is coming so...”
“Have somewhere that you need to be?” You patted his head.
“...No, unless spending the night with my cats counts as “plans.””
“No...date?”
“Date?” He scoffed, “Me? Nooooo.” He paused, and with a tentative air, met your eyes. “Do...you have plans tonight?”
“Mm-no.”
Felix sucked in a tight inhale, as if he was mustering his courage.
“Well, m-maybe, after we leave, --only if you want--we could--”
The bells over the café door tinkled, sweeping in snowy and white air in with it.
“I’m sorry, are you still open?”
The old woman carefully closed the door behind her and clung tightly to her shawl that was wrapped around her shoulders. Only dressed in the thin fabric, you figured that she must’ve been freezing. Both you and your coworker sprung to your feet to attend to her.
“Yes! How can we help you?”
She was an odd woman, the kind that you could only really describe to look witch-like. While she had warm features, her aged skin had grown stretched with little marks and veins feebly showing. Bags under her eyes were deep, but they didn’t look tired, but like they held many years of wisdom, like he had witnessed much, and knew much.
“A-aren’t you cold?” Felix rushed to the other side of the corner to help her to a chair. “It’s so freezing outside, and you’ve barely got on a hat.”
His tone was gentle, like the one that you guessed he would speak to his cats with.
“I’m fine. Nights like these, I’ve lived through many of them. They don’t phase me any more. I just thought that I could come inside for a moment to have a slice of that strawberry cake that you have in the window. It looks very delicious.”
You nodded quickly then plated the second to last slice for her. You brought the dish over quickly with a little fork. “Anything else that we can get for you?”
The woman shook her head politely, then took up the fork in her shaking hands. She ate quietly, merely making little “mm’s” as she licked the cream away. You and your coworker didn’t really know what to do, seeing as she hadn’t paid, and wasn't shivering from the cold at all. Felix shot you a confused glance, then rushed to the back of the café and to his locker. You heard the usual metallic clang, and he came jogging back with his own scarf that he had worn that day.
“H-here. Please put this on.” He offered her the periwinkle blue fabric.
“Oh. Dear, you are so kind. I just knew that you would be such a sweet soul. I could sense it.”
The woman dabbed her mouth with the napkin that you had placed under her plate.
“That was wonderful, I could really taste the love that had been baked into that cake. It’s always refreshing to feel that.”
You and Felix nodded, still unsure of the situation, but smiled as politely as you could. She then swaddled her neck in the scarf, and sighed in her contempt.
“No one has ever offered me something like this before. You are quite special young man.”
She had voiced the comment about Felix, but she had held your eyes as she said it. Her eyes were a bit hazy, some kind of color that must’ve been blue at some point, but here now a type of soft grey-lavender. They were enchanting, and mysterious, but you had felt that you had known them somehow.
The old woman rummaged around in her pockets, the pulled out two gold coins that were hefty in size, and thick like the kind of candy ones. You had never seen anything like them before, and they were a bit comical to look at, but still shone like the golden sun. On both sides of the coin, there was no writing, but merely an insignia of two arrows crossed over eachother.
“I think that should suffice.” Her chair creaked under her as she rose, and placed one in your hand and the other in Felix’s. “Thank you so much for taking care of me. Both of you deserve all the love that’s coming to you. I hope that you remember this.”
Felix muttered and turned over his coin in his hand. “T-thank you.”
You shot Felix a glare. You had not the slightest idea how you could have accepted this as payment, but Felix seemed completely fine with it.
The woman’s crinkled hand wrapped around the door handle, and she pulled her shawl around her once again, then buried her neck back into Felix’s scarf.
“Happy Valentines Day!” She waved to you both, and you found yourself waving back.
The door slammed, and you felt as if you had been snapped out of some kind of hypnosis.
“Wow.” Felix whispered with a little smile.
“What. The heck. Was that?” Your body trembled in the way that you would’ve have as if you had plunged right out of cold water.
Felix stood smiling and gazing out, not even paying attention to your remark.
“Felix? ...Felix?”
“Hmm?” He turned nonchalant.
“Did you hear me?”
“What?”
You reached your hand down the pocket of your apron to study that strange coin only to find that you couldn’t feel the cold metal.
“...What?” You rummaged around even further. “I could’ve sworn...”
In Felix’s hands which he had left cupped in front of him, his gold coin had vanished too, and he hadn’t even noticed.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“I hope that this works.”
Felix’s mittened hands tapped over the keys of the security system keypad and he mouthed the numbers as he did so. The pad illuminated with a green light and made little beeping sounds with each number. Once he finished the sequence, it flashed with a red light.
“...Does that mean that it didn’t work?”
“I think so?”
The two of you had shoved your bodies together in the little corner nearest the back exit of the café.
“I should try it again?”
“Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”
Felix gave a determined nod, then did the passcode, only for it to flash red again.
“Oh my god, what if we mess this all up and then someone breaks into the café and then we get fired--I mean--I get fired because it would be all my fault--”
You snarked out a laugh and pushed him lightly aside, “Here, let me try. No one’s getting in trouble.”
You pressed in the same code, getting red once more.
“What do we do????”
As if it was his security blanket, Felix tucked his neck into his coat collar.
“One more time, alright? Maybe there’s a manual in the office or something. We can try that.”
An ahhh circled Felix’s mouth and he let out a relieved exhale. “Right. Right. That’s a good idea.”
This time, you pressed the numbers in hard, as if that would make any difference, but you thought it best to try. But, red again.
“I’ll go check the office,” Felix announced, and shuffled closer to the manager’s office near the back door. He wiggled the doorknob, finding it locked as well. “We’re doooooommed.”
“No, we’re not. I’m not giving up.”
In your head, you cursed out the damned security system up and down. If it wasn’t going to work, you would make it work.
“5. 9. 2. 5. 0. 8.”
beep beep beEP!
“Oh my god!!! It worked!!” Your friend jumped up and down in his excitement.
“Thank God.”
Felix hiked up his backpack on his shoulders, grabbing the door handle at first, but then stopped.
“Wait.” He licked his lips, “Before we go out there, I...I wanted to ask you, since it seems like we’re both not doing anything tonight, would you like to maybe...do something...with me?”
His anxious eyes widened, and you could see his breaths quicken under his wool coat. For a moment, you couldn’t even believe that he had said such a thing. Normally a timid boy, his strike of courage was something that was astonishing to you, but it also made your heart beat just a bit louder in your ears.
“You want to do something...with me?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Me?”
He giggled lightly. “I just said you.”
“On Valentines Day?”
“I-is that weird? I-I’m sorry if I’m weirding you out, I didn’t mean to. I know that we’re friends a-and I think that you’re really cool--I’ve always thought that--but, I never really had the guts to say so, and honestly I don’t know how I’m getting it out now but, I just don’t like the thought of being alone right now, or you being alone. So--”
“--Felix! Felix, calm down...” Even though your chest was thumping, your sweating hands squeezed your palms to calm yourself down.
“Sorry...I ramble when I get kind of nervous.”
His hands nervously fidgeted at his sides, and under the light of the emergency exit sign, a glimmer of gold winked between his fingers.
Felix asked his question with glimmering eyes. “Would you like to?”
“Yes. Yes. I would really really like to.”
“Really?” His smile was filled with the very sunshine that he seemed to carry with him every day.
“Really.”
“Okay.” He reached for the handle once more, yanking it down, but instead of it swinging from it’s hinges, it clanked, glued to the wall.
“What?” Felix shook at the handle once more. “It’s not...budging.”
“Let me try.” You mirrored his action, and sure enough, the door had locked itself in place. “Wait. I thought that it wasn’t supposed to lock after we exited?”
“I...thought the same.”
Once giddy, Felix turned solemn and worry chased across his brows.
“No. Nononono. This can’t be happening.”
“It’s okay. We’ll just unlock it again.”
You went back to your mortal enemy, the keypad, and pushed in the buttons, but no green light came from the action.
“Is it on? Is that supposed to happen?” Felix’s tone edged with anxiety.
The display screen on the interface had turned blank too. You had seen in movies that if you slapped the thing, maybe it would turn on, but after you had tried, nothing happened.
“I’ll try the other door.” Felix scuffled over the the front of the café, and you could hear the answer loud and clear even from the back. The other door also had locked and it’s metallic clang resonated through the empty tables and chairs.
“What do we do?” He asked once he returned to you in the back.
Even though your heart was racing its way up your throat, you remained as calm as you could. “We call for help. It’ll be okay. Look, there's a phone number here on the panel to call the service company.”
You drew your phone from your pocket, and it added yet one more object to your list of worries. “I-I don’t have service?? What the hell?”
Felix opened his phone screen too, and showed you his non-existent bars. “Me too. It’s gotta be the storm right?”
Your coworker’s eyes flicked back and forth in the darkened hallway, and you could hear his breaths start to quicken one after the other.
“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay.” You fluffed his hair like you had down a few times before, an action that never failed to make him giggle, so you hoped it helped put him at ease. He keened his hand into your hand a bit like a cat would, and it was just too frickin’ cute, even in a situation just as this.
“So we’re just gonna wait? Wait until our service comes back?”
“I guess so.”
Felix started with taking his coat off, and hung it back up in his locker. “Who knows how long that we’ll be here?”
You did the same, but left your hat on, merely liking the way that it warmed up your head. “Maybe we can make ourselves something to drink? How about, I make something for you, and you make something for me? Sounds kinda fun?”
“Sure.” Felix responded with a faint smile.
In the dim lighting of that hallway, you reached for his small hand at his side.
“Um, looks like we’re still getting to spend tonight together. I wish that it wasn’t like this, but, it’s something, right?”
He was startled by your action, but let your fingers lace between his. The small connection was the one that had made you feel butterflies just thinking about, and now it really was happening.
“Felix...I’ve thought before, I think that you’re really cool too.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You knew that using the ingredients for your own experimentation was against the rules, but you had hoped that your boss would’ve understood considering the situation. The rule had been written on the little spreadsheet that he kept taped to the side of the syrup holder, but that wasn’t going to stop you.
“No peeking.” Felix giggled as he shook something together in one of the hand-held mixers.
“No peeking to you either.” You said, scooping some macerated strawberries into the bottom of a cup.
For a boy as sweet as him, you knew exactly what you wanted to make: it was your own version of the strawberry milk that you had made in the café, but it had chocolate dripping down the sides of the glass and it was topped with chocolate shavings and a lovely amount of whipped cream.
“You done yet?” You asked while adding your finishing touches.
“Juuust about.” He rummaged around the little array of fresh prepared herbs that you kept in the minifridge under the counter. “Oookay! Now I am!”
In the corner of your eye, that last slice of strawberry cake called your name. You thought to yourself, I could always make more. It was the last slice anyway.
The two of you made a little set up at one of the tables and Felix even thought to turn off a few of the light fixtures, and brought out a couple of those birthday candles that you would use on customers, and arranged them in a cup to burn.
Celebrate!
Happy Birthday!
You Are Special!
Congratulations!
“Aw, cute.” You slid your drink for him closer, and admired the way that the yellow glow of the candles flickered in his soft brown eyes.
“I-I thought that it would make it more special, considering that where we are isn’t like, the most special place. Especially for tonight.”
“I think that it’s special. Or, who you’re with is what makes it special.”
Your coworker smiled coyly, then took a sip of your strawberry milk.
“Try yours!” He pushed the iced drink in front of you. It looked a bit like lemonade, but not exactly. Swirls of purple juice danced along with the pulp of the lemons. He had garnished it with a sprig of mint. “It’s blackberry lemonade. I’m sorry if it’s kind of tart. It was my first time making it, but I thought that you would like it.”
You took a sip, and the second that the concoction touched your lips, it was heavenly. While it was a little tart, the juice of the lemon bit wonderfully on your taste buds, and was complimented well with the sweetness from the ripe berries.
“Good?”
“Really good. Thank you.”
He sighed a sigh of relief, then passed you a fork.
“Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.”
“You thought that being trapped with me would be a bad thing?” You teased.
Felix’s eyes adorably widened, looking as if he had spilled his strawberry milk all over the table. “N-no, I didn’t mean that, I just thought that being locked up would feel--”
“--I’m kidding! Kidding, okay?”
A tiny oh formed on his mouth, so he took another sip to fill the gap of silence between you. “Your drink is really good too. How did you know that I liked strawberries so much?”
“Hm, it was a hunch.”
Actually, he had said it a dozen times or more, but, it was much cuter letting him think that he hadn’t said it before.
With the light of the candles now dripping a bit of wax onto the table, all of his features seemed so much softer: he was like some kind of dream, almost like a mythical being that you must’ve imagined.
You wondered, maybe this was the kind of love that he wanted: the kind of love that was sharing something that you had made, something special to you in a simple place, a place that was not much else other than the people who made it. Or, maybe this was the kind of love that you wanted.
Your pants pocket felt a little heaver, and you snuck your fingers in. The touch of your fingertips felt the cold and smooth metal first, then they ran over the outline of the arrow shapes on the flat side.
“Mmm. You made this cake so well!!” Felix did a little dance while popping in a bite.
“Felix?” You ran your finger over the golden piece. “I’m glad that we’re stuck here together.”
“Me...too.” He shied.
Carefully, you took your fingers to trace the yellow strands of his hair dipping over his forehead, taking in the way that they tickled your skin. In his nervousness, he took another sip, gulping loudly with eyes fluttering. On his lower lip, a bit of the cream streaked, and all you could do was wonder how it might’ve tasted there on his strawberry pink lips.
“Can I...kiss you?”
You could nearly see the way that his heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird in the way that his shoulders rose and fell with his anticipatory breaths.
“Yes.” He whispered.
You leaned forward slowly as to not scare him, tilting your head to the side as you pressed your lips against his. You had thought right: there really was nothing sweeter. His shaking breaths quivered over your lips while he tentatively kissed back, and it made your chest ache thinking about how nervous he must’ve been. You didn’t want to startle him, bur rather gently kissed him slow, carefully and respectfully. He shivered at the feeling, and his hand crinkled the napkin in his hand. The other, he had drawn out to rest on your leg, and rubbed his thumb into your jeans. The sweetness of the cream on his lips caught on yours, and it was unlike any kind of flavor you could have ever imagined.
After a moment, you drew back, and Felix appeared like he was about to burst with giggles but held himself back.
“I-I really liked that.” He tried his best to keep his composure.
“Me too.” Turns out, you really didn’t know what to do with yourself either. Instead, Felix made the decision for you. In seconds, he had launched his small body into your arms and wrapped himself around you in a hug so tight that it was nearly suffocating.
“I always kinda wondered what that would be like...with you.” He squeezed you tighter. “I can’t believe that just happened.” His smile cracked though his words.
You wrapped your arms back around him and you could have sworn that you could feel his fluttering heart against your own.
“Me too Felix.” You breathed in his scent which was that of daisies and candy floss.
“Can we...do it again maybe?” He leaned back with arms slung around your shoulders and pleading eyes.
“Of course.” You wove your hands into his puff-ball hair. “Can I try something?”
An even more sickly sweet idea crept into your brain.
“What’s that?”
You took your thumb to scoop up just a little bit more of the cream bubbling on his drink, then carefully wiped it over his bottom lip, just as if you had been coloring him like a finger painting. You sucked off the excess, and he watched as you did so with wonder.
“You’re just so sweet, I can’t get enough of you.” You hushed into him, leaning closer once more.
His eyes fluttered closed, and with his quivering breath, he waited for you to kiss away the taste there, sucking the flavor into your mouth, then going to kiss over his parted mouth. A rather awkward creaking of chairs echoed, and he pulled his body closer to yours, and let you fill him to the brim with kisses in all of the places that you desired. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he even giggled into some of your kisses too. His hands found the sides of your face where he held you there gently. Once he was comfortable, the warm feeling of your tongues met, and he nearly melted from the sensation. Your hands crept around his tiny waist, and you never let go.
It felt like the moment that you had been waiting for.
Your lips broke, and Felix threw his arms over your shoulders again, dipping his head into the crook of your neck where he stayed for a while as you ran your fingers up and down his back.
Outside it was a much colder and harsher world, but here, it was your own kind of paradise, and it was sweet like strawberry.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
At some point, you had fallen asleep together on one of the loveseats: a pile of legs and arms all tangled up together. When the morning came, the snow had subsided, but rather was caught up everywhere in the streets and sidewalks, and sparkled like diamonds.
It was your manager that had woken you up, and of course you had gotten in trouble, not at first for sleeping in the café, but for leaving the all the doors unlocked.
#stayhavennet#staysbemine#stray kids fanfiction#skz fanfic#stray kids imagine#skz fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#stray kids smut#skz smut#lee felix smut#felix smut#felix imagines#lee felix imagines#stray kids drabbles#stray kids oneshots#felix x reader#felix x you#felix x y/n#felix x reader smut#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop drabbles#kpop oneshots
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if i had an orchard
ship: morgan x garcia
summary: penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. with each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. and he can’t look away.
warnings: mentions of minor character death (hank morgan, the boy morgan finds in the junkyard), episode 3x09 “penelope”, rotting fruit/maggot imagery, religious imagery, implied murder (boy in junkyard), toxic masculinity
words: 3000
Derek is eight when his dad takes him camping for the first time. It’s the summer of 81, Sarah is entering middle school and Desiree is about to start Kindergarten, so after all of the stress of school applications, Hank proposes they just go out, enjoy the sights of Illinois.
So they go to Buffalo Rock, and he loves it, loves the smell of nature and the feeling of the sun on his skin. He plays soccer with his dad by the campsite whilst Sarah burns through her summer reading list and Desiree cries because she doesn’t like the bugs and she’s too small to play with the boys, and it’s the best summer of his life.
One night, his father pulls a bag of apples from the rucksack, suggests they bake them in some tinfoil over the fire. So while Fran puts Desiree away to bed, Hank sits him down by the campfire and shows him how to pare an apple with a penknife. Slow, using his thumb to stabilise the blade, careful not to cut his finger.
He cuts it straight through the core, hands Derek one of the slices to parcel up carefully in tinfoil. And once those are on the flames, he gives him the knife, another apple from the bag.
“Be careful,” Hank guides him slowly, hand hovering over Dereks’ own, “You don’t want to cut yourself.”
Derek peels it clean and precise, he’s always been a bit of a perfectionist like that. But when he cuts down the core of the apple, and the two pieces fall away in his palm, something is wrong. Very wrong.
His hand retracts in an instant, sends the apple flying, maggots spilling onto the ground into a writhing mass. His stomach is churning, twisting itself in disgust at the sight, and his father stomps it with his boot.
“That one was rotten,” Hank says, pulls the knife from Derek’s hand, “No good. It’s no good.”
Even when the apples are done baking, he can’t stand the sight of them, can’t stomach it after seeing the rotten fruit.
“Tenderness is a sign of rot,” Hank informs him as he eats his slices, “They shouldn’t be soft. That’s how you know they’re bad.”
And he takes that sentiment with him. Even when his father dies, especially when his father dies. He doesn’t cry at the funeral, he starts lashing out at anyone and everyone because to be soft is a sign of rot, of corruption at the core, it makes you undesirable and unwanted and sickening. Keep the toughest rind and you will come out the other side strong.
So he picks fights, even with the kids he knows will beat him. He’s always been a tall kid but Rodney has always been taller, stronger, but to turn the other cheek is a soft man’s path, and Derek Morgan is not soft.
He picks fights and he loses them, comes home battered and bruised and his mother will fuss over him, press a bag of frozen peas to his eye and sing him to sleep. She doesn’t care if he’s too old for it, he’ll always be her son. And even when the pain runs more than skin-deep, crawls through his veins and writhes like a maggot, sickly and decay-drawn, she will cradle his body like he isn’t crumbling from the inside out.
When Derek is 11, it’s the first Thanksgiving since his dad died. There’s an uncomfortable silence in the house as Sarah and Fran work on dinner, and Desiree’s out in the backyard with the neighbour’s kids. His grandparents aren’t coming this year, something about the Chicago winters being cruel on their arthritis.
There’s a faint layer of snow already beginning to settle outside, and he can see the constellations of snowflakes in Desiree’s hair as she finally bids the neighbours farewell and comes tumbling inside, ready to bound up the stairs.
“You promised you’d help me with the apple pie,” Sarah chides as she scoops Desiree up in her arms. The girl laughs loud and gleeful, the first real laugh since the day began, wriggles as she tries to escape her older sister’s grip. Desiree is a big girl now, 6 years old and wide-eyed and too mischievous for her own damn good, and she’s too big now for Sarah to pick her up with ease but she tries anyway.
Derek steps out, takes Desiree from Sarah’s grasp and slings her over his shoulder, grinning at the shrieks he hears.
“Come on, Des,” He laughs, “You promised!”
So, whilst his mom cooks the turkey and the mash and the myriad of thanksgiving side dishes, the three Morgan children converge in the living room, and work on the apples. Sarah peels them and Derek slices them, and Desiree just watches with her big brown eyes and pretends she's helping, because Lord knows no one trusts her with a real knife.
When they’re done there’s a pile of peels in a bowl. Their mom takes it, a sparkle in her eye.
“You know,” she says, grinning and setting down her knife, “There’s an old wives’ tale that if you throw the peel behind your shoulder, it will spell your husband’s name.”
Desiree and Sarah dissolve into giggles. Desiree’s too young to know what true love like that really feels like, too young to be thinking about marriage and life as an adult. And Sarah’s approaching it closer and closer with each passing day, she’s had her heart broken by careless boys to want nothing but a guarantee that the next boy will be the one.
So they take the peels and throw them. Desiree’s looks sort of like an L from the right angle, and Sarah’s is an A, if you use a bit of imagination, and Derek doesn’t get anything because he refuses to try it.
“That’s for girls,” he scoffs, puffs his chest up like a proud robin all red and strong.
“You’re impossible,” Is the response he gets.
When he is 15 he finds a boy’s body in the junkyard. All battered and bruised and broken and he wishes he could press a bag of frozen peas to his head like his mother had done, tell this boy it would all be okay. But it won’t be okay, and the case is never solved because the police don’t seem to care for kids like Derek or the boy, seem for focused on pinning things on them than catching their killers.
When he sees the policeman shake the community centre owner’s hand, Derek knows his killer will not be caught.
He goes door to door and pools up enough money to buy a headstone, and he visits it whenever he can, touches the cool rock and feels himself break. And he doesn’t know this boy, know his face or his name, but they feel connected. Through space and time and tragedy, maybe in another life they were friends. Maybe in another life it was him, and he would be the one rotting in the ground.
Move forward a few years and he feels like something inside of him is broken. Like he’s been torn apart and stitched back together again but something went wrong in the process. He feels moldy, he thinks one day as he’s filling out college applications, disgusting. If he could he’d rip all his skin off and scrub himself spotless. But this runs deeper than skin.
He gets the football scholarship, and his mother cries when he reads the letter because her baby is going to Northwestern and he’s gonna be something great, bigger than himself, he’s gonna change the world. And the success feels like the pinprick in the lid for him, like he can finally breathe as there’s a chance for him to go. Leave those rotten parts of him behind.
After college and the Chicago department, he finds himself starting in the BAU. The team is pretty small - Hotch is a hard-ass and Gideon is, well, Gideon, and the liaison stays in her office too much for Derek to really know who she is, but the BAU feels right for him. Gideon’s got some kid on his radar and so does Hotch, but they’re both so frustratingly secretive that he has no clue who they could be.
He fits right in like a puzzle piece that’s been missing for so long, takes on a role as the ladies’ man and the handsome coworker who flirts with you over coffee, but also the guy who’ll sit with child victims for hours to make sure they’re alright. Hotch hasn’t booted him yet so he figures he’s doing something right.
And then he meets her.
Penelope Garcia, she introduces herself as, and she’s so unlike any girl he’s ever met before with her long, dark hair and she acts like she’s the smartest person in the room (and after a few hours interrogating her, he figures that sentiment isn’t too far off). She’s got these big curious eyes and glittery pink acrylics and he can see the person that sits behind the dark facade.
They don’t hit it off, at first, because he’s proud and she’s defensive and he has a job to complete, but then Hotch informs him of the deal that’s been made, so he better start trying to get along with her. She gets along great with JJ, they eat lunches together in Garcia’s ‘batcave’ and JJ’s finally starting to open up a bit more, actually talks to Derek at the coffee machine in the mornings and asks how he’s been. Before, she’d talk to him, or Hotch, or Gideon even, with strained words and avoiding eye contact.
The first time he calls her babygirl is the first time he sees her properly flustered, cheeks red and stammering as she types away at her keyboard and Hotch gives him the mother of all death glares because they’re trying to run an FBI investigation here, Derek. But it makes him smile, seeing her all blushed pink, and he decides he likes it.
She pretends she doesn’t struggle sometimes, and he sees it. The mass of figurines and posters in her office are just a distraction technique - he’s well versed in those - and he knows just how taxing it must be for her, seeing all those awful things. She loves and she loves like it’s the only thing she knows how to do, full-bodied and all in, and some days he wonders if she’s really capable of hatred at all.
“How can you do it? How do you deal with it all?” She asks one day over coffee, voice small and sad. She’s seen some awful things over the past few days, and he wraps her up tightly in her arms. The worst thing is - he doesn’t know what to say. For as long as he can remember, he’s just been pushing it away and ignoring it. Letting it sit inside him and simmer, rip him from the inside out and just pray he’ll be able to pick up the pieces once he finally falls apart.
Things shift, change, over the years as people come and go. There’s a new kid, one Gideon’s been raving about for months who’s finally gotten all the necessary qualifications, even if some exams had to be waived. And he gets hurt, gets hurt bad, and Derek wonder’s if that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back because it isn’t long before Gideon leaves. There’s a new man in his place and they’re still trying to trust him, but he just isn’t Gideon, he isn’t the mentor and the peacekeeper and the caretaker that they’ve all grown to need.
Penelope is constantly shifting, growing with each passing day as a sapling grows to a tree. With each day he learns more and more what metamorphosis looks like, up close and personal - there are some things a book cannot teach you. And he can’t look away.
She has a date. She has a date and he doesn’t know why there’s this ache in his chest, like something’s been scraped out from him and left him hollow. But it’s her choice, he figures, he doesn’t own her. And then he gets the phone call.
Shot, he hears Hotch say over the phone, voice crackled and rough, and it’s like everything in him shuts down. Like someone’s ripping him apart limb by limb. That motherfucker. He will not know kindness from me. Do you need me? He asks, but Hotch just sighs.
She needs you.
And he’s driving to the hospital but he’s so pissed he can barely even focus, consumed by the rage bubbling within him, he wants to find that son of a bitch and make him feel a thousand times what Penelope felt. His skin is itching like thousands of maggots are crawling across him, it’s so overwhelming.
He feels rotten, like he’s so full of pain he can barely breathe, and his cheeks are wet and he doesn’t know why they are until he reaches up to touch them, realises he’s crying.
Men like Morgan do not cry. It’s a sign of weakness, he thinks, and you cannot afford to be weak. Not here, not now, you have never been safe enough to be weak. You bottle it up and ignore it, because to be soft is to be rotten.
He flashes his badge to the hospital receptionist and she informs him with pitying eyes that Penelope is in emergency surgery, that he can wait until she’s out and hear the verdict. So he collapses into the waiting room chairs, unable to look at the others, waits for Penelope to be okay.
Waiting lasts a century. All he wants is to take her in his arms and let her know she’s going to be okay, but he can’t. He can’t even guarantee that it will all be fine, because from what he’s heard it’s a bad wound from a good shot and it’s not looking good.
See, Penelope is an apple tree. She gives and she gives and she asks for nothing in return but a spot in the sun and a love her body has been starved of for years. And all Derek wants is to drown in blossom petals and cider, to drown himself in her warmth. All she asks for is to be loved, and that bastard didn’t even try. Derek will try, he will try and he will pray to a God he does not even believe in (Goddamnit he’s trying, he’s trying) if it means he can love her, if it means that she will be there to receive his love.
When the surgeon comes back, gives them the news, everything in him relaxes. Like the tightly-wound coil of a music box as the lever is finally released. She’s okay, she will be okay, no one must die today.
Her makeup is gone, hair a knotted mass, she’s traded out the bright clothes and heavy jewellry for a hospital gown. And she’s as breathtaking as ever, and Morgan can’t look away. He wants to reach out and hold her hand, press his forehead against hers, let her know that he’s here and everything is going to be okay, tell her how glad he is that she’s alive.
“You really love her, huh?” JJ asks with a smile, looks up at Morgan with a piercing, knowing gaze once they file out of the room, split up the group. She’s cradling a to-go coffee cup in her hands and disshevelled - she’d been the first one at the hospital, been in charge of letting everyone else know.
It’s JJ that knows Penelope the best, if not Derek. She knows the ins-and-outs of their relationship, she can see what they’re too scared to say to eachother. Love, he thinks, this is what this is.
“I do.” He nods.
“So tell her- show her, god knows she needs you right now.”
He waits until the others have left Penelope’s hospital room. The thing is - he flirts with her all the time, has himself branded as a ladies man, but it’s been so long since he’s had something real. He’s always been too afraid to show that tender side that a relationship requires.
But he’s tired of holding back. Penelope softens him, turns all his harsh edges hazy, makes his heart wrench in his chest. He has forgotten what it means to be rotten.
So he sits himself at the edge of her bed, doesn’t care if any of the others can see him through the window, all that matters is here and now.
“I almost lost you,” he says, voice soft, “I was so scared- I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you’d gone besides tear the bastard apart.”
He scoots closer, chair handle digging into him as he leans into her. His hand cups her face, feels her warm skin against his cool palm, heartbeat thrumming under his fingertips. She’s alive, good god, and she’s here with him, and maybe everything will be okay.
His forehead presses against Penelope’s own and she seems to welcome the movement, twists a handful of his shirt in her grip like she can’t bear the thought of ever letting him go. Derek has never wanted to be loved more than right now, loved by her.
He’d bite the apple for her, Derek thinks, swallow it down seeds and all. Because he loved her, he didn’t care if the fruit was rotten or wretched, damnation was a gift if he was condemned alongside her. He’d run to the edges of the world where all that could reach them was the moon and the stars, and he’d tell Penelope how he hung them just for her.
Kissing her feels like breaking the water’s surface. Being reborn, baptised under her hands, and for what feels like the first time, he can breathe.
#morcia#derek morgan#penelope garcia#criminal minds fic#derek morgan fic#penelope garcia fic#derek morgan x penelope garcia#penelope garcia x derek morgan#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#david rossi#jason gideon#jj jareau#jennifer jareau#criminal minds fanfiction#userpenemily
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I Will Rise
Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco
You can take everything I have
You can break everything I am
Like I'm made of glass
Like I'm made of paper
Go on and try to tear me down
I will be rising from the ground
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Summary: With the next winter holiday things get to their lowest point. But rock bottom is always the place to start building up.
A/N: So this was supposed to be super angsty with no end in sight but ya know, I changed my mind. This is angsty don’t get me wrong, but this is also where choices are made and people are changed for the better or worse. Sidenote: I just ended a four year relationship yesterday and ya know. I’m great. Anyway. Love yall!! Let me know that you think as always!!
Draco and I stood at the Manor gates. Dark clouds rolled in, suffocating us. They threatened with snow, ice, and fury.
“It’s the Dark Magic,” Draco noted, his voice seemingly indifferent, taking my hand.
I nodded, sighing. Something was to be said about missing sunny days and warmth. Even in the dead of winter, this chill sat differently on our shoulders. Winter promised spring... this artic promised nothing but death.
Inside and unpacked, Draco and I shared a bit of tea in front of a warm fire. He was reading The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe aloud, and despite my adoration of the book, I couldn’t seem to lose myself in the words as I once had. Even with the silkiness of Draco’s voice. I now had a deeper understanding for Narnians before the events of the book. An endless winter with only a small gossamer of hope to cling too.
“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
The words mocked me. Draco seemed to pick up on my disinterest.
“Don’t tell me you don’t prefer the book any longer?” There was a soft teasing smile on his lips as he closed the book, setting it on his lap. It was the one I had given him almost a year ago.
“No, I do,” It was a sad sigh. “I just... do you think someone is out there for us? An Aslan to come and save us?” I hugged my knees.
“Well, you know as well as I do,” He took the same book and flipped further back before settling on a page that seemed to satisfy him.
"Dearest," said Aslan very gently, "you and your brother will never come back to Narnia."
"Oh, Aslan!!" said Edmund and Lucy both together in despairing voices.
"You are too old, children," said Aslan, "and you must begin to come close to your own world now."
"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan. "Are — are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."
A smile brushed my lips as he closed the book again.
“But do you think that was meant for us?” I laid my head on his shoulder.
“I think that it was meant to give hope,” Draco decided after a quiet moment, “Aslan, by any other name, would still be something to believe in,”
“Unless that name happens to be Harry Potter,” I chuckled, drawing a laugh from Draco. “And have you been reading my Shakespeare?”
“Maybe a bit,” A smile toyed at his lips.
“Romeo and Juliet though?” I rolled my eyes. “I told you, it wasn’t a good story to read presently,”
“I think you also told me that it was worth keeping the books that didn’t have a happy ending,” Draco set the book on the coffee table and pulled me into his hold.
“Do you think we’ll have one?” I asked softly. “A happy ending?” His face was hard to read as his eyes fixed on the burning fire.
“How can we with what we’re going to do?” The words echoed in my thoughts as we both sobered.
The plea for him to not do what he was asked of came rushing to my lips, but I held them there. I wouldn’t tell him. I had decided on that long ago. This was the one choice that he needed to figure out how to make on his own. I was torn myself. I wanted to tell him to stop, to help him make this choice, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to. But I could stay beside him... I prayed that it would be enough for him.
Even with the holiday upon us, the air was void of excitement and magic. The Manor was decorated immaculately even still. Tears stung my eyes, when thinking that this was the first Christmas I ever had without my mother, without baking or cooking or the music or movies. There was nothing to do in the kitchen with the house elves working and practically shoving me out of the room. There was nothing to clean. Nothing to tidy or move... It felt unnatural. Draco pulled me into his arms, giving me the comfort that I craved so desperately.
“Your mother is arriving soon,” He murmured softly. “Are you going to be alright?”
“I think so... we’ve been civil through writing. How bad could this possibly be?” My words were cynical but hopeful still. “Besides... at least it won’t be just the four of us. By comparison my mother will be a delight,”
“Bellatrix has agreed to be civil, and Snape always comes for Christmas. Or has before the last couple years at least. He’s my godfather, you know. He and my father were close when they were young,” Draco’s voice was strained. “But I suppose they will all be needles in a haystack,”
“It was right to invite the rest of...” I trailed off. “They’re alone too,”
“Always the Hufflepuff, are we?” He mused softly.
I hummed in acknowledgement. I was still wary about Bellatrix attending supper. Too many things had the chance of going poorly.
“You know we have to do this,” He read my thoughts.
“The perfect children. The perfect couple. The perfect soldiers.” I sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to go back to that night at the Ball. Or the month after...”
“It’s ironic,” Draco chuckled darkly. “That we now know ignorance is bliss,” I nodded at the doorbell chimed throughout the house.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,”
It was something quite different dining with just the Slytherins and dining with their parents as well. It wasn’t just I and Draco who were playing perfect children, but all of my friends, everyone I knew. All sapped of joy, of smiles, expression... under the scrutiny of their parents. Blaise, Vincent, Greg, Theo, and Pansy.
“How has schooling been?” My mother tried asking as the first course was served.
“Well—”
“Ugh,” Bellatrix scoffed. “Who can learn anything with that daft old fool as headmaster?”
“Bellatrix,” Narcissa warned gently.
“Yes, yes. Civil. As you wish,” She rolled her eyes and slouched, digging into what I assumed was quail.
Draco and I shared a look. Attempts for conversations halted after that.
Dinner passed and I barely tasted any of the surely rich foods that were placed before me. After the awkward affair, my mother asked to speak with me in private. Draco, Narcissa, and oddly enough, Snape eyed me warily.
“Of course,” I gave Draco one last look. He looked as if he were ready to pick me up and make a run for it, but he refrained.
I led her to the small rose garden that Draco had once led me to. It seemed sacrilegious to tread upon this secret haven, but it was a place that gave me comfort. Though it was covered in snow and the trees and bushes were bare, I still remembered the summer warmth the garden offered.
“You have surrounded yourself with quite a group people my dear,” Her voice strained out the words. “And that dress is lovely,”
“A gift from Narcissa,” A tight smile touched my lips.
“So, you’ve replaced me then?”
I turned, frowning at my mother.
“You really think that?” I was baffled.
“Well look at you! New dress, new shoes, new friends! You’re living and dining with a bunch of Death Eaters for Merlin’s sake!”
“Yes, because I had so much of a choice to abandon the people I love and come home and live with my mother who lied to me for fifteen years and manipulated me!” I watched as my sharp words silenced her.
“You could have come home any time,” It was a quiet notion.
“No, I couldn’t have,” I wrapped my arms around myself and took a deep breath. “I’m going inside,”
“Please, dear. It is Christmas,”
“Yes,” I turned to face her. “And I’d rather be inside with Draco, if you can understand that.”
“Draco,” It was nearly a sneer. “I have heard... rumors about him.”
“I really don’t think you have any right to say a word,” I said, my tone as ice.
“You’re blind. Your own love blinds you to who he really is. You’re going to get hurt,” There was an air of concern in her voice.
“No! I’ve spent years of my life terrified of letting people in because you’ve got it so deeply ingrained in me that I might get hurt! Well you were wrong about the world! And you were wrong about me!” I stalked up to her. “I have done things that you will never know! That you will never understand! I’m living through a war for god’s sake mom! And you’re here yelling at me about who I’m dating!?” I took a small step back, shaking my head. “This was a mistake...”
“Y/n, wait, please, you have to understand—”
“No mom! You... you don’t get to just waltz in here and ask me to understand! I don’t have to understand, and you really don’t get to give a damn after all you put me through! Don’t you think I want to have my mother here for me!? That it doesn’t kill me inside because I’ve never felt so alone in my life!? That everything I’ve known has been pulled from under me and while I’m trying to set myself somewhere new you just criticize me!? No! You just...”
“And what would your father say?”
I gaped at her, enraged.
“How dare you!?” I annunciated each word. “Dad would be damn proud of me! And he never would have let you do what you did to me! I am supposed to be your daughter! But I’m done.”
Without another word I stalked up to the house and inside, fuming. Draco caught me at the door, but I shrugged him off.
“Love,”
“No,” I snapped. “I need to cool down, just...” Wordlessly I headed upstairs before collapsing behind a random locked door, sobbing.
After a while, when my tears had subsided and my frame only shook minimally, I pulled myself up off the ground and stumbled over to a vanity. It must have been a guest room that I found myself in.
The girl looking back was a mess. Tear tracks stained with mascara ran down her cheeks and red lipstick was smudged out of place. Her hair was hanging haphazardly and out of order. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her lips etched into a permanent grimace.
There was a knock at the door.
“Go away, Draco,” I sniveled.
“Do I look like that blond-haired prat to you?” The door clicked closed softly as I saw Pansy’s reflection in the mirror.
“Pansy, please... I—”
“You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m not here to console you, not particularly,” She came up beside me and leaned against the vanity. “Everything’s really fucked up, huh?” Her voice was depressed as she looked down.
“That doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I muttered.
“You know, I can’t tell my parents about Abby at all,” Her confession was small and weak. “She’s not a pureblood, and well, they’re not as accepting as her parents are about our relationship...”
I looked up at her, my eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out why she was telling me this now.
“We haven’t spoken all holiday,” This wasn’t the strong confident Pansy I was used to seeing, but rather a broken scared teenager. “She’s mad at me because I won’t tell my parents about her, and I... I can’t do it. I’m a coward,”
I let out a hopeless laugh and smiled at her.
“I just told my mother off and now I really think I’ve been disowned,” A dry humor coated my voice. “And I’m in love with the son of the man who killed my father,”
“Well shit girl,” Pansy laughed. “You make my problems seem so trivial,”
“Not my intention,” A smile met my lips. “And I’m really sorry about you and Abby... not saying that it’s anywhere near the same... but I’m aware of what it’s like to be scrutinized for my choice in partner.”
Pansy nodded and a silence fell between us.
“You’re going to run yourself thin, Y/n. Trying to be everything for everyone.” Her voice returned to its somber mood.
“I think I’ve past that point,” I muttered darkly.
“Then tell me, little Hufflepuff, who are you going to be?” There was a slight challenge in her eyes. “You don’t have parents watching over your every move, you don’t have the constant expectations.”
“I can’t just—”
“And why not?” She shot back.
“Because I have to protect Draco,” I breathed out. “Play the part and get through this,”
She eyed me; eyebrow raised but said nothing. “If that’s what you think,” She mused.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I shot back.
“Well, the girl I met a couple years ago would stop at nothing to be herself even if it meant being teased and bullied by a couple Slytherins. The same girl who cut off all her hair and started to fight back. I just wondered what changed.”
I opened my mouth to refute her point but refrained. A lot had changed. Draco was a Death Eater now. We had a trial to get through alive or we would both die. I had to somehow manage not to get killed by his aunt preferably. I still had to pass my bloody N.E.W.T.s as if the rest wasn’t enough.
“Tell me, or don’t. But I care about Abby and Draco a lot. And now I’ve got this kid sister under my wing and I don’t want to see her drive herself into the ground like I have. This war is shit, but you... Y/n, you’re someone to believe in.”
I tutted out a laugh. “I’m a mess. Please don’t believe in me,”
“But that’s what makes you so valuable to all of us. Blaise, Theo, Vin, and Greg too. You gave us all a second chance. It doesn’t take much to lay down your life for a good man, but to forgive a bunch of villains?”
“You’re not villains,” I refuted.
“See, that there. That’s why we believe in you.” Pansy smiled. “Even through it all, you still are kind and believe in us,” She tucked my hair behind my ear. “Now let’s get you cleaned up, because I’m sure Draco is on the verge of breaking in here himself,”
I laughed and pulled her into a hug.
“Thanks Pans,”
_____________________________________
Draco paced outside the door as he heard your ragged sobs coming from within wishing nothing more than to go in there and hold you. But you had asked for space, so he tried to honor that. Draco jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Pansy?” he asked, relaxing a bit. “What—”
“I’ve got this lover boy,” She smiled and patted his shoulder.
“She doesn’t want to be bothered,” Draco defended, glowering.
“Maybe not by you, but I think she needs a sister about now, what do you think?” Pansy raised an eyebrow at him, and it reminded him of all the times that Pansy had been there to be a sister to him and he nodded, knowing that it might help you more that he could.
Draco leaned against the wall, next to the bedroom door, his eyes closed.
“Draco?”
He peaked an eye open to find his mother on the landing with him.
“Is she alright?” Soft concern colored his mother’s voice.
“I have no idea,” It was a ragged whisper. “I knew we shouldn’t’ have invited her mother. I knew it was a bad idea,”
Narcissa laid a hand on his shoulder and tilted his chin up so that his eyes reached hers.
“It was going to happen eventually, but maybe now she can get some closure from it,” His mother sighed. “I remember the night that Andy walked out... it was weeks before that last fight and I could see how much it drained her. And you know it’s been hurting her too,”
“Andy?”
“Your aunt, Andromeda.” Narcissa smiled sadly. “Married a muggle and was disowned... she was barely older than you,”
“Talking about our dear sister again?” Another voice snarked from behind them.
They both turned to see Bellatrix leaning against the stair banister.
“She was a traitor, Cissy,” The witch sneered. “Walked away from this family. Married a muggle,”
“I know,” Narcissa’s voice was strained. “But I thought perhaps it would give some insight to what Y/n is going through,”
“Are you sympathizing with our dear sister then? Are you a traitor sister mine?” Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.
“Of course not,” His mother snapped. “If anything, Y/n has just affirmed her loyalty by turning her back on her muggle loving family,”
Draco knew the words were said to appease Bellatrix, but still he flinched at the reality of them and what it looked like on the outside. He knew that was far from the truth. He knew that you had walked out on your mother because she had a problem with you being with him. It had nothing to do with blood status. But perhaps the wicked narrative would keep you safe.
Three pairs of eyes snapped up as the door opened. Pansy emerged first, a smile on her face and you followed behind. You were smiling and held your head high. You were also barefoot, your stilettos in hand. Draco smiled at the sight.
His aunt on the other hand.
“Improper if you ask me,” She muttered.
“I don’t think anyone did,” The smile on your face was tight and he had to refrain from laughing at the look of shock on Bellatrix’s face. “My apologies Narcissa, I do believe that I may have ruined your dinner party,”
“Think nothing of it my dear,” His mother smiled. “I’m just glad to see that you’re alright.”
Tucked by his side, Draco tried to read your facial expressions, but even he couldn’t pick anything up. What you showed him seemed real. A real smile and real confidence, but he doubted that it was really the case given the present circumstances. But perhaps it wasn’t far fetched after all.
Bellatrix glared at you, but you held no air of worry or fear. Instead it was almost as if you were challenging her. Which left him wondering what in Merlin’s name had Pansy talked to you about.
Draco kept a close eye on you all night, but you really did seem alright. Curled up under his arm on the sofa in the company of just your friends, you were almost at ease. He itched to know what had happened between you and Pansy, but there was never a moment alone with just the two of you.
The night wound down, and soon it was only you, him, and his mother left in the large house. The both of you had drifted to the sitting room that held the grand piano. Draco’s fingers danced along the ivory keys, remembering how last Christmas he had composed for the first time. Your song was still remembered under his fingertips as it became a part of mini concert.
Christmas morning came and there were few presents under the tree, most of them trivial. Christmas seemed trivial. He had gotten a pack of permanent markers from Abby with a note saying that you would know what to do with them. You had gotten a pair of diamond earrings from him—and his mother. You both agreed, however, not to get each other anything. It was a depressing notion, but there was simply nothing to say about the occasion.
That evening, you donned your cloak and smiled at him softly.
“I’m gonna go visit Papa,” Your voice was soft and subtle. “Would you like to join me?”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He never expected for you to invite him to something like this. After the events of yesterday he didn’t feel worthy to go with you, let alone meet your father.
“It’s okay Draco, I can go alone,”
“No,” It was immediate. “You’re not going alone,”
Draco never thought that your father would be buried here. At Godric’s Hollow. He supposed it was a common place for wizards to be buried, but... he didn’t make the connection. There were others here as well and he could hear the faint hymns being sung at the church down the road. You and he were just cloaks in the crowd, two hoods visiting a loved one. You paused at a gravestone.
Walter Y/l/n
1956 — 1983
A Father and Husband
~Have Courage and Be Kind~
“Happy Christmas Papa,” You whispered softly, waving your wand, riding the gravestone of snow and frost. You sank to your knees, tears in your eyes and a smile on your lips. “I brought someone here to meet you,” Your fingertips brushed the stone. “This is Draco, Draco Malfoy. I know you probably don’t like the last name Papa, but... he is good,”
Tears welled in Draco’s eyes at the interaction. He stooped beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“Hello,” His voice was tight. “You have a wonderful daughter,” A pause. “And though I cannot atone for my father’s mistakes, I will try. And I will be someone worthy of her affection and love,”
You laid your head on his shoulder, not saying anything, but rather enjoying the quiet night, the soft snow starting to fall. Drawing his wand, Draco conjured a small wreath of holly at the bed of the grave.
“He would be so proud of you,” Draco murmured. “As I am.”
“He would be proud of you too,” You looked up at him, snowflakes on your eyelashes. “We should go before the snow gets worse. I can feel it growing dangerous,”
Draco’s eyes darted around to the other mourners in dark colors that made only your silver cloak stand out when his eyes landed on a rather large focal statue. You followed his gaze and stood, standing.
“Do you think Harry has ever...?” The question was soft.
“I don’t think he knows it’s here,” Draco answer truthfully, his brows tugging together.
He led you down the rows of headstones until you were before Lily and James’ gave. It was sobering, seeing it like this. Draco knew the legends and stories, of course, but looking at the small bundle etched in the stone, cradled in Lily’s arms, it seemed almost too real. With your wand, you used the same spell and cleared the grave of frost and snow.
“As much of a prick that he is...” You trailed off. “I hope he’s having a good Christmas,”
Draco hummed in acknowledgement.
___________________________________
Narcissa greeted us at the door to the Manor. A warning in her eyes. The warning, proven to be in vain because nothing could prepare us for what was awaiting inside. The treacherous smile of Bellatrix greeted us, as she was flanked by two others, in hoods and masks—deeming them unidentifiable. Even though I had seen her the night before, her civility seemed to have vanished.
“The young prince returns, dear sister,” Bellatrix cooed. “But he has not been such a good young prince now has he?” She twirled her wand in her hand as Draco took a step in front of me, his own wand out.
“Bellatrix,” A steady recognizable voice called.
My eyes snapped to the right where Snape stood. His nonchalant demeanor almost blending in with the gloom that hung in the air.
“You know his fate, Bellatrix,” Snape did not attempt to stop her, but something held in his words accomplished the feat.
“Yes,” Her head cocked to one side as she drawled out the word. “But he is not above the Dark Lord’s law. And that goes for his harlot.”
“You will not speak to her like that,” Draco spat, growling.
I placed a hand on his shoulder. I could handle some name calling. I was just desperately trying to figure out Bellatrix’s game and why she had come back and why the hell Snape was here too.
“You know, you might have gotten away with it, little tramp, had the Ministry and that blood traitor Weasley stepped in and torn through the enchantments,” The purr fell from her lips. “And Cissy you should really know better than to leave me alone anywhere,”
Bellatrix waved her wand and I felt unseen hands grab my arms and drag me forward, to the center of the foyer, and then they were gone, causing me to stumble onto my knees. I glowered up at the witch, picking myself up and drawing my wand.
“Bellatrix!” This time it was Narcissa.
“Worry not little sister,” The witch stalked up to me, her wand tracing along the scar that resided under my shirt: from her knife the last time we had met. “She is in no harm... The Dark Lord has plans for her after all... But I am afraid that her possessions...”
My eyes went wide. I shoved the idea that the Dark lord had plans for me and finally figured out her game. The reason she was here.
My room in the manor. Filled with my muggle books, and records, and photos... Everything I had left from the family and home I no longer had.
“Yes, little pet.” Bellatrix snapped. “But I wanted to take this as a learning opportunity. That the Dark Lord will expect nothing less than perfection—dedication.”
“Bellatrix, please—” I started, only for my voice to be taken by a flick of her wand.
“You will be silent, little toad,” She snapped.
I turned, and saw Draco standing with his mother, pure fury written on his face as Narcissa held him back. As much as I yearned for his touch and comfort, I knew that this had to be played very carefully for us to survive. His eyes met mine.
“Come, come,” The deranged witched cooed almost happily.
Draco wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me along beside him. I looked up at him with frantic questions in my eyes, but he just shook his head. Though I couldn't hear the others behind us, I was sure they were there. Standing at the door of what was once my room, I saw the scattered books, torn pages, and absolute destruction that was in the room’s wake. Tears welled in my eyes at the sight. Draco’s and Narcissa’s arms around me were the only thing that held me back from running forward to save something—anything.
“Draco,” Bellatrix motioned him forward. Rigidly he let me go and took a step forward.
“The Dark Lord and every Death Eater believes that Purebloods are superior. That Muggles are filth and should not be considered human. And yet you allow such scum in your house. Muggle scum.” Bellatrix turned to Draco. “Destroy them. Prove your loyalty, little prince.”
Narcissa’s arms became a vice grip, holding me up instead of holding me back. I ducked into her shoulder, not being able to bring myself to watch what I knew had to be done.
“Confringo,”
Time passed. I wasn’t sure how much time. Maybe seconds... maybe an hour. Everything froze around me. My lung burned for oxygen. My eyes saw nothing. There was nothing left for me to see. Nothing but destruction in wake.
________________________________
“Draco give her mind time to protect itself,” Snape’s calm voice chided, watching the young boy pace outside the room you were in, nursed by Narcissa.
“No.” He snapped. “She—Fuck she’s going to hate me! Do you realize what I’ve just done!” He nearly screeched. “I’ve just destroyed everything—”
“And rightfully so!” Snape hissed. “Do you think the Dark Lord would be as forgiving as Bellatrix? If he came here and saw such things?” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “If it weren’t for the Dark Lord’s plans for her, she’d be under a gravestone by now.”
“Plans for her!?” Draco rushed his teacher, wand out. “No. He doesn’t touch her.” The threat was malicious and icy.
“It is out of your hands,” Snape merely brushed Draco’s wand away. “Has today not been enough for you to understand that there is no other choice for you here?”
Draco took a cool step back. “Crystal.”
The door opened and two pairs of eyes snapped and fell upon a weary Narcissa.
“She is awake,” Her voice wavered slightly. Narcissa walked forward and placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. “She’s asking for you,”
Ice ran through Draco’s veins as dread filled his chest. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was goodbye. Maybe this finally broke you. It’s what he dreaded the most, but knew it was coming.
You were sitting up, on the edge of the bed, your gaze cast to the floor.
“Y/n, please, you have to—”
You held your hand up and shook your head.
“Books... can be bought again. So, can records...”
“But they—I...”
“Draco,” You called, squeezing your eyes shut. “I know.” Your voice was curt. “I know, but right now, if I dwell on that...”
He nodded and looked down.
“Can you ever forgive me?” Tears welled in his eyes as he sat beside. “Please forgive me,”
“You had no choice,” Your voice was small. “They’re just... things.” Your eyes still didn’t open. “They’re trying to break us. Break me. The Dark Lord has plans for me,” You almost scoffed. “Like I’m his pawn. Like I belong to him!” You stood pacing the room. “Well you know what? He can watch me bleed, he can watch me burn, but I will not give in!” Your voice was vehement. “I—won’t—break,”
Draco gaped at you, utterly shocked. This was... new. This was different. This was also the first time that he had ever seen you so adamantly speak against the Dark Lord with such fervor. A kind of courage that he wished he possessed. A determination that made him believe that maybe, if nothing else, you would get through this. It gave him hope that maybe he would too.
You sat beside him again and took a deep breath, running a hand through your hair.
“How are you feeling?” You voice was gentle and soft.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” A small smile touched his lips.
A shrug fell from your shoulders and your hand ran up and along his left arm. The action alone eased the ache of the magic etched into his skin.
“I hate what I am,” He confessed through tears. “I hate what I’ve done and what I have to do. I... I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Sobs wracked his frame. “And I don’t know how you’re getting through this so well because I’m just breaking. I’m broken.”
Your arms wrapped around him, head resting on his shoulder.
“And that’s okay,” You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Go ahead and break. You’ve been strong too long, Draco.” Your hand ran through his hair.
He clung to you desperately, sobbing into your shoulder, hiding there. And he did break. He broke on you. He came apart at the seams in your hands and you held him together.
“I—I don’t w-want to kill him,” He sniveled. “W-why haven’t you tried to stop me?” He started to hiccup from the lack of oxygen.
You took his shoulders and looked him in the eye.
“Deep breath,” You instructed and took an exaggerated breath waiting for him to follow suit. It was shaky and ragged, but Draco managed a couple. “And because I wanted you to figure that out on your own. I wanted you to make that choice,” Your thumb brushed away his tears. “And I’m so proud of you for making it,”
He nodded and collapsed back into your arms a sense of relief flooding through him despite the threats that closed in from all sides.
__________________________________
“M-miss?”
It was early January when the house-elf came to me, clutching something in her hands tightly. Cassie, I thought was her name.
“Yes?” I knelt down, a soft demeanor to the action.
“I—I am—” She started to hyperventilate, tears in her wide eyes.
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” I soothed softly. “I won’t hurt you, nor tell you to hurt yourself. You’re safe in my presence,” I held my hands out, a slow action, showing the cowering house elf that they were empty and held no threat.
“I—I have been a b-bad house elf,” She cried. “I s-stole from M-miss,”
I frown furrowed my brows. I couldn’t think of anything that I owned that was worth stealing. A depressing thought tacked on that I didn’t own anything worthwhile even to me at the moment.
“It’s alright,” I smiled something sad.
The house elf held out what she was clinging too.
My photo album, the gift from Abby last Christmas. Tears sprung in my eyes as I hastily snatched the book from the house elf’s grasp.
“P-p-please do n-n-not be cross with C-C-Cassie,” The elf sobbed. “S-she likes l-l-looking at the p-p-pictures of h-h-happy mom-ments.”
“Oh, I’m not mad,” I quickly rushed out. “Not even in the slightest,” Tears streamed down my face. “You saved this,” I set the album down and drew the elf into a hug that she tried to scramble from but eventually relaxed, sobbing into my shoulder. “Thank you, thank you.” I cried.
“P-P-Please do not tell Master D-Draco,” She sniveled. “Y-Y-You have a-a-always been k-k- kind to us e-e-e-elves, p-p-please,”
“Y/n?” Draco’s voice was concerned. “Tell me what?” Cassie squawked and hid behind me, cowering.
“M-m-m-master D-Draco,” The elf stammered apologies.
“What’s going on?” Draco was reserved, a mask of calm.
“Cassie, she saved my album.” I ran my fingers over the leather cover. “She took it from my room I guess... said she liked to look at the photos,”
Shock and relief flitted across Draco’s face in waves. He knelt down beside me and brought the book into his hands tears in his eyes.
“Thank you,” He spoke softly to the house elf. “Thank you for saving what I couldn’t,”
“Draco,” I chided softly, reaching out for him. “It wasn’t your fault,”
“Regardless if it was or not,” He turned his attention back to the house elf. “You have my deepest gratitude,”
I flipped to a worn page by my own hand, to a day last year in the snow of four friends laughing and smiling. It wasn’t much, but I supposed it was something to believe in.
.
Chapter 9
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Masterlist
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The loneliest time of the year || Part two
Part 2 of 4
Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?
A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.
[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies
By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff.
A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.
It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget.
There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.
10 months. That’s a proud achievement.
It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.
10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier.
With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs.
His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child.
A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.
“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”
(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn’t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands.
“You made a pie?”
“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance.
“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”
Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother.
“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “
“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.
“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”
She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.
“Did you make me a pie?”
“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “
“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”
It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement.
“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”
“You wanna go shopping for toys?”
“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”
“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “
He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?
“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”
Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.
Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment.
“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week
“What the fuck is this?”
“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”
“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”
A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd.
“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “
“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”
“Would you buy this for Leo?”
“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”
“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”
(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”
His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.
“What do you mean ?”
“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”
This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.
(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.
“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”
And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over.
“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”
“That’s adorable.”
“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”
Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.
“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”
He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.
“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”
“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”
“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”
Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.
“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “
“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “
“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.”
“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “
“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.
“ Yeah. “
“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “
This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie.
“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.
And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place.
And that feeling is damn scary.
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.
The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors.
“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper.
“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “
“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “
For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous.
It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds.
Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.
“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls.
“ Millennium Falcon playset.”
“ You and a million other little boys. “
“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”
(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face.
“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”
“Oh, I remember those!”
And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.
“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street. “
“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”
Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”
Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”
“ Notice what?”
“That I had the biggest crush on you.”
Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.
“Me? You had a crush on me? “
It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.
“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “
“I was a horrible skater.”
“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”
Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?
“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”
She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.
“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”
“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Well … it’s too late now.”
“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”
Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.
“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”
“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”
“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”
“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”
“Don’t let it get to your head.”
“Of course I’ll come. “
She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity.
“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”
#francisco morales x reader#frankie morales x reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal imagine#frankie morales x you#francisco morales imagine#frankie morales imagines#triple frontier imagine#triple frontier imagines#catfish imagine#catfish x reader#catfish x you#jos2020xmasspecial
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Blended Family
Word Count: 3,187 Demetri x OC - Part Six Warnings: Fluff
December came round quickly and Sophie got excited as she loved Christmas and was looking forward to her first Christmas with Demetri and their children. “Do you celebrate Christmas Dem?” Sophie asked “Yes, we celebrate Christmas but probably not in the way that you do” He replied “What do you mean?” “We do Secret Santa every year, it was introduced by one of the secretaries a few decades back” He replied “What about a tree?” “Heidi puts one up in the family room every year. We put the gifts under the tree. How do you celebrate Christmas?” “We put up a tree every year and decorate it and place the wrapped gifts beneath it. We also put up decorations to make our homes look festive” She replied and he smiled at her “I was hoping we could celebrate Christmas this year as it’s our first one together as well as Nico and Ellie’s first Christmas.” “That sounds like a plan cara mia. How can I help?” He asked as he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her “We need to decide whether to get a real or fake tree and choose a colour scheme for our decorations. Then there’s the shopping of Christmas gifts for the children” She answered looking up at him “What about gifts for each other?” He asked before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers “I’d like to buy you some gifts too” He kissed her again “Ok, but we have to set a limit on the money we spend on each other and the children” She replied before pulling him down for another kiss “I’m making no promises mi amore” He replied smiling and she shook her head smiling.
Following a discussion where they weighed the pros and cons of a real tree vs a fake tree, they decided to buy a fake tree. Demetri bought a large fake tree for his Sophie’s room along with blue and silver decorations to match the colour scheme Sophie suggested. Sophie also hung a wreath on their door, decorated to match their tree colours. Demetri bought a smaller tree for the children’s room after Nico said he liked looking at the lights on the tree of an evening, that tree also followed Sophie’s colour scheme at Nico’s polite request.
Sophie and Nico went shopping for gifts for Demetri and Ellie, leaving Ellie with Sulpicia and Anthenodora as Demetri was on guard duty with Felix and the twins. During their shopping trip they purchased stockings to hang on the fireplace along with some personalised tree decorations; Nico’s chosen decoration was two snow people, as he called them. One wore a blue scarf and hat and the other wore a pink scarf and hat. Nico and Ellie’s name were written above the snow people’s hats. Sophie also bought two baubles and had them personalised too: one saying ‘Nico’s 1st Christmas’ and the other ‘Ellie’s 1st Christmas’. “Nico you can’t tell daddy or Ellie what gifts we have bought them ok?” Sophie asked Nico softly “I promise mummy, it’ll be our secret” He replied smiling “Good boy.” They made their way to a coffee shop for a short break; They had a hot chocolate and a gingerbread man each “I like the gingerbread man mummy, thank you” “You’re welcome sweetie and I’m glad you like them.”
Demetri returned from a shopping trip a few days later with a personalised decoration for him and Sophie; his one was a couple in winter clothes with their names written above their hats. He also bought his Secret Santa gift for Jane; a MAC make-up set along with a few gifts for Sophie and Nico.
Sophie had explained to Nico who Father Christmas was and what happens on Christmas Eve and Nico seemed really excited so Demetri decided to take Sophie and the children to Volterra’s Christmas market one Saturday afternoon, knowing that Santa and his reindeer were there. “Look daddy it’s Santa” Nico said excitedly “So it is” Demetri replied smiling “Now I know why you wanted to come to the market today” Sophie said low to Demetri “He seemed interested in Santa after your talk and I thought he might like to visit Santa’s Grotto. I know it’s a human thing as it happens here every year and I plan on bringing Ellie when she’s old enough to understand about Santa” He replied as they joined the queue. Nico sat on Santa’s lap “Hello, I’m Santa. What’s your name and what would you like for Christmas this year?” “Hello, I’m Nico and I’d like a train set please, like the one in my story book” Nico replied with a smile “I think I can do that. Is that all you want for Christmas?” Santa replied “I’d like to ask for something for my sister Ellie too, if that’s ok?” Nico asked politely and Santa nodded “Of course, what would she like?” “A new teddy bear please as she really likes them” Nico replied pointing over at Ellie “Of course I can do that. You are a very good big brother” Santa told him “Thank you and Merry Christmas Santa” Nico said as one of the Elves stepped forward and handed Nico two gifts “One for you and your sister” “Thank you Mr Elf.” Demetri and Sophie couldn’t help smiling at their son “He’s so thoughtful and polite. I love him so much Dem” “I know, me too.”
Sophie and Nico bake Christmas cookies and cupcakes in the week leading up to Christmas, Gianna liked eating the treats as the only other human in the castle. Demetri tried a cupcake and a cookie too “Daddy, look at what mummy and I made” Nico said looking at Demetri, showing him the festive treats. “Why are you eating those D?” Felix asked looking confused as he entered the kitchen “It’s Christmas Felix and Sophie and Nico spent a lot of time making and decorating them so I thought I’d try one of each” He replied looking at his mate and son, whilst Ellie sat on his lap putting her fingers in the frosting and licking them “I think the little one approves” Felix says nodding at Ellie.
Demetri sat watching his mate and son start to build a gingerbread house and began to get lost in his thoughts; thinking about how much he loves Sophie and is happy she’s human and that she nurtures Nico’s human side. He hopes she continues to do so after her change and when even Nico’s grown up, as there is plenty of time to nurture his vampire side in the future. He also felt grateful to have a daughter too, one that he can give immortally to when she’s old enough. “Penny for them Demi” Sophie said smiling, pulling him from his thoughts “Hmm, oh yeah…I was just thinking how lucky I am to have Nico and to have met you and Ellie and I am looking forward to spending forever with my family” He replied smiling “Aww Dem” She replied, her eyes getting a little teary “I’m lucky that Ellie and I got to met you and Nico too and I’m also looking forward to spending forever together as a family” She stepped beside him and leant down to kiss him, Nico giggled at the sight as Demetri wrapped his arm around her waist. “I love you Dem” “I love you too.”
They woke up the day before Christmas Eve to see that it had snowed overnight and Sophie decided to wrap herself and the kids up and go play in the snow in the garden below their room “I need to wrap up you warm sweetie, so we can play in the snow and build snowmen” Sophie said to Nico as she wrapped a scarf around him and helped him put on gloves. Ellie was all wrapped too, even though she couldn’t play in the snow. They had been outside for about half an hour when Demetri joined them “So what are my three favourite people up to?” He asked “Mummy and I are building a snowman” Nico answered before looking over at Ellie “And Ellie is eating the snow” He added chuckling “Oh hunny, don’t do that” Sophie says softly but Ellie ignores her. Demetri sits beside Ellie on the blankets and lifts her onto his lap in an attempt to stop her eating the snow “I have an idea princess” He says low and scoops up some snow and shapes it into a ball before throwing it gently at Nico’s back “Oi” Nico says as he turns around to look at his dad and sister “It was Ellie” Demetri replies pointing to her and Ellie just smiles and starts babbling “Of course it was daddy” Nico replies. Demetri throws one at Sophie next “I suppose Ellie threw that one too?” She asked “Nope that one was me” He smiled at her before looking down at Ellie and talking to her. Sophie and Nico threw snowballs at Demetri and as they made contact some of the snow fell onto Ellie who just laughed and tried to eat it. Sophie showed Demetri and Nico how to make snow angels and Demetri laid Ellie down in the snow and made one for her too.
After a few hours of being outside they went back to their shared room and Demetri bathed the children whilst Sophie made herself and Nico a hot chocolate, warmed a bottle of milk for Ellie and grabbed a blood bag for Demetri “So you don’t feel left out” She says to Demetri as the four of them get comfortable on the sofa to watch Christmas movies. “Thank you letting me play in the snow mummy, I had fun” “I’m glad sweetie, I had fun too” Sophie replied as she pulled Nico into her so they were cuddled up “We had fun too, didn’t we princess?” Demetri said and Ellie babbled a reply before yawning and snuggling into her dad for a nap.
Sophie prepared a Christmas Eve box for Nico and Ellie consisting of a new pair of pyjamas each with fluffy socks. She also bought personalised Christmas story books; one for Nico and Ellie as it’s their first Christmas. Both stories feature Demetri, Sophie, Nico and Ellie, the only difference being the story itself.
Sophie gets Nico to leave out a glass of milk and some cookies for Santa and a carrot for Rudolph. “You know you’re eating this stuff, right?” Demetri whispered low to Sophie so Nico couldn’t hear him “You’re helping too Dem” She replied. “Can we do this every year whilst Ellie grows up too?” “Of course, we can buddy” Demetri replies smiling before putting Nico in bed and reading him a story.
The following morning they wake up to see more snow has fallen overnight “I love a white Christmas Dem” “Me too, especially as I have a family to celebrate it with now” He kissed her “Merry Christmas Sophie” “Merry Christmas Dem” She replied kissing him back.
Once the children were awake and had breakfast they sat around the tree in Demetri and Sophie’s room and began opening their gifts “I think someone went overboard” Sophie says looking her mate “It’s their first Christmas ever, our first Christmas together and as a family. I wanted to spoil you all, so I did” He replied smiling “Thank you, it’s much appreciated” She replied and Nico nodded. Nico received a trainset, building blocks, colouring books with crayons and pencils and some new clothes. Ellie received some books that were specifically for children of her age, some clothes, and a brown coloured Build-a Bear dressed as a princess, Ellie squeezed the teddy to her front and upon doing so it spoke “I love you always” She looked confused her as she heard her daddy’s voice but his lips didn’t move; Sophie and Nico smiled knowingly as Ellie squeezed her teddy again and it repeated “I love you always” in Demetri’s voice. She looked between her teddy and Demetri before being scooped up into his arms “Yes, that’s my voice in your new teddy. That way I can tell you I love you even when I am away for work” He told her softly, kissing her head “That’s really sweet Dem” Sophie told him “I can call you and speak to you and Nico, I can’t do that with her yet” He replied “Aww, Daddy’s gone soft” Nico said teasingly, causing Sophie to laugh, Demetri growled low playfully, Ellie turned to look at him confused “Yes Ellie, daddy can growl, but never at you” He told her “Daddy hasn’t gone soft buddy, trust me. It’s just you three mean everything to me and I want you all to know that” He said looking between Sophie and his children. “Here buddy, this is for you too” Demetri says handing Nico a large gift, inside was a brown coloured Build-a-Bear dressed as a vampire “Give its paw a squeeze” Nico did as his dad told him and he heard Demetri’s voice “I love you buddy” “Thanks daddy” Nico said giving him a big hug “You’re welcome” He kissed his son’s head.
Demetri opened his gifts, receiving clothes, hair products, bath bombs, a ‘World’s best daddy’ mug from Nico and Ellie and some new crime and thriller books. Sophie opened her gifts, receiving clothes, a leather jacket, bath bombs, a ‘World’s best mummy’ mug from Nico and Ellie as well as jewellery. Demetri handed Ellie to Nico before moving closer to Sophie “Here, you missed one” He passed her a gift bag and when she opened the little black box inside she saw a white gold diamond ring, Demetri took her hand in his “Sophie, I can’t give you a big white wedding as I’m not human but I want to exchange rings with you whilst we make a promise to always love and care for one another…I’m asking if you will spend forever with me by my side as my best friend, my soulmate…as my wife?” He placed the engagement ring on her finger “Yes” She replied low, tears falling “You made mummy cry” Nico says as he slaps Demetri’s leg “These are happy tears sweetie” Sophie assured Nico “Sorry daddy” “Don’t worry buddy, I was worried there myself, I didn’t expect mummy to cry either” Demetri replies and pulls Sophie onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her “I love you Dem” She kissed him “I love you too”
Everyone noticed the diamond ring on Sophie’s finger as soon as they entered the family room for Secret Santa “Oh my god, look at the rock on Sophie’s hand” Chelsea called out grabbing her hand “It’s beautiful” Heidi added “Congratulations to you both” Aro said shaking Demetri’s hand. Sophie told their friends how Demetri had proposed, including how Nico slapped him and told him off because Demetri’s proposal had made her cry “Oh, he’s so sweet and protective of his mummy” Jane said smiling over at Nico, who was sitting with Ellie and Alec.
Sophie received a €40 Boux Avenue gift card from her Secret Santa “You’re welcome” Heidi said low, winking at her, Sophie blushed slightly. Demetri received a pair of black leather gloves and a shot glass from his Secret Santa “I hear having two kids under the age of one can be stressful” Santiago said smiling as Demetri looked at the shot glass with a confused expression “I’ll bare that in mind” He replied. Jane loved the make-up Demetri got her and thanked him with a hug “You’re welcome Jane” He replied low.
That night Demetri and Sophie read the children their personalised Christmas stories and tucked them into bed “Thank you for our gifts” Nico said to his parents “You’re both very welcome” Demetri replied kissing them both goodnight, Sophie kissed them goodnight too and left the room. Sophie and Demetri cuddled up in bed watching another Christmas movie “Thank you for today Dem. It’s been the best Christmas ever” “Thank you for today too, I think the kids had fun. It’s been my best Christmas too, especially as I gained a fiancé today” He replied “Me too and the ring is gorgeous” She leant up and kissed him enjoying being held in her mate’s arms.
Sophie discovered from Gianna that the city has a New Year’s Eve firework display every year and decided that her and Demetri were going to take Nico and Ellie to see this display. “Sophie due to my vampire hearing I’ll be standing near the back otherwise my ears will be ringing and I won’t enjoy the firework display” Demetri said as he got Nico ready “That’s ok. The noise is likely to be loud for Ellie too, so I bought her some earmuffs” Sophie as she puts a pair of beige earmuffs on her “Maybe you should have got daddy a pair too” Nico says laughing, earning a glare from Demetri. Sophie choked back a laugh and replied “I didn’t think that. Maybe I’ll get him a pair for next year” “Just make sure they’re black” Demetri replied with a straight face “Yes sir” Sophie called out and saluted him “Mummy thinks she’s so funny” Demetri said looking between the children, a small smirk on his lips “Mummy is funny” Nico replied smiling “Little traitor” Demetri muttered and Nico just shrugged.
Once outside in the city square, they found a space amongst the crowd that ensured Sophie and Nico could see the fireworks but that wouldn’t be uncomfortable for Demetri. Ellie appeared to like the colours of the fireworks, the earmuffs doing their job of muffling the loud noise, she kept tapping Demetri and pointing to the sky smiling and Demetri couldn’t help smiling at her reaction, finding it rather cute “What do you think of the fireworks buddy?” “I think they’re cool, the different colours and noises they make” Nico replied looking up at his dad, whilst still holding Sophie’s hand “Thank you for this cara mia” Demetri said low into his mate’s ear “For what?” She asked confused “For giving me the chance to experience a ‘human’ family life of my own, something I never got to have…obviously” He replied low kissing her cheek “I really do have the best of both worlds with you and the children” He added “I’m glad. I just want to nurture Nico’s human side and for him to make as many memories as possible in his accelerated childhood, after all he’s going to watch Ellie grow up at a slower rate, making memories and I don’t want him missing out on anything” She replied “You really are the best mummy in the world and I’m so proud to call you my mate” He responded wrapping arm around her, holding his family close “You are the best daddy in the world and I couldn’t have asked for a better mate handsome” She leant up and kissed his lips “Happy New Year” “Happy New Year Soph” He smiled at her as they continued to watch the fireworks, seeing in the New Year as a family.
#demetri volturi#felix volturi#jane volturi#alec volturi#aro volturi#marcus volturi#caius volturi#heidi volturi#volturi#twilight
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Winter/Christmas headcanons with Mike? Hope everything is going well with you!!
Hello! I’m doing OK - not had the best week to be honest, the world (still) feels very scary and things feel a little off. But I am doing my best to focus on the good and enjoy the small things ^_^ I really enjoyed writing these, hope you like them and that all is well with you.
So firstly I think of Mike as being someone who loves Winter, he loves the other seasons too! Generally he’s grateful for the changing of the Seasons and allows himself to enjoy the highlights of Spring, Summer, Autumn & Winter. Winter is the month though where Mike is likely to indulge in the things he loves most of all and to let his guard down just a little. He is grateful for the long nights as it gives him an excuse to sleep a little longer and the cold/dark days make it easier for him to have more alone time & be unsociable if he wants. Not in a grumpy way, but just that I get the sense that as much as Mike loves his friends and work is pretty much his life - he enjoys hours of just reading, meditating, maybe a little writing, crafting etc. where he isn’t disturbed. Winter is the perfect season for this.
He relaxes most in Winter, again it’s where there isn’t as much pressure as Summer to be out and about. It’s good for him to be able to use the time to switch off and have some quality ‘me time’ & practise self love. (This is of course unless there’s any work ‘emergencies’)
In a relationship during Winter Mike is just adorable, he does everything he can to make sure his partner is warm/cosy/safe and is a fan of matching jumpers and/or hats. He also likes to cook a lot for friends and his partner, I mean he always enjoys cooking but Winter is
Mike loves this time of year, it’s an excuse for him to be extra cosy, cuddly, snuggly and so on with you. It’s extra hours in bed getting warm under the covers both in the morning and in the evening, it’s cuddles under blankets and arms wrapped round one another.
He owns many Christmas/Winter jumpers and has enough for every day of the week - sometimes he’d have you guessing which one he’d wear tomorrow.
Really enjoys baking and baking with you. Mike likes to ensure you’re well stocked up for the festive season as well as baking cookies, making fruit cakes, cheese straws, homemade jams etc. to give as gifts to friends
Loves long evenings curled up with a book and some festive music in front of the fireplace.
Is really into singing and would love to go Caroling with you and a group of friends (this is an absolute no from Levi).
Doesn’t like how dark it is in the morning and how short the days are - it does make him a little sad and he gets down easy this time of year despite how much he loves it. But in a relationship his partner is the ray of sunshine he needs during the dark days. He might take longer to get up in the morning and a little time to meditate or warm himself by a fire.
Definitely needs extra cuddles and dosages of love when the two of you are alone on the days he’s feeling blue.
He loves the taste of mulled wine & mulled cider, prefers to make it himself with all the ingredients rather than buying it that way.
Every room is decorated, from the tree to various ornaments, garlands, candles and paper chains that you make together one rainy afternoon.
Will have no qualms about dressing up as Father Christmas in the bedroom if you know what I mean * wink wink* if that’s your thing.
He loves taking long winter walks and wrapping up cosy and warm. Holding hands, wearing mittens and a bobbly hat a relative made for him.
Is a little grumpy if he gets a cold - has very, very cold feet. They’re often like ice when he gets into bed and he’ll tease you with them making you jump when you least expect it.
His nose also gets very cold, he likes it when you press kisses to it to help warm him. When it’s extremely cold and temperatures drop a lot, it can affect his sense of smell. Just a little mind, he still has the finest nose in the scouts! But the result of this is even more scented candles and him wearing more aftershave than normal.
He smells like Yule/Christmas/Winter - all cinnamon and spice.
Can ‘cook with his nose’ he knows exactly when it’s time to serve up/take cookies out of the oven etc.
Likes to celebrate the winter solstice by getting up before the break of dawn and watching the sun rise. Spends the day in quiet reflection regarding the year that’s drawing to a close and the one that’s coming up. Has a few yule centrepieces and decorations he makes from gathered twigs, branches, holly, berries etc.
Wraps presents beautifully, well he tries to anyway - some of them end up a bit messy but it’s the thought that counts! He will decorate them with bows, dried orange slices, cinnamon sticks etc.
Really enjoys board/table top games with friends, especially when there’s a few drinks involved and it’s an opportunity to appear less serious and let his hair down.
When it snows Mike is one of the first people to leave his footprints outside, he loves to watch the sunrise with you over the winter wonderland. He isn’t a fan of making snow angels as it’s too cold for him (plus he gets a little self conscious about his height?) but loves to watch you make them. He will however, help you to make the most amazing snowmen & snow creatures.
Great in snowball fights! Makes the best snowballs and has great aim - he and Erwin are very much in competition with each other and it would be pointless to try and interrupt.
He’s a very graceful ice-skater who has a lot of patience if you’re wobbly or a bit scared (also a good teacher - the patience/teacher thing is what makes him so good as a section commander)
Sometimes he can be quite quiet during the winter, it’s a time when he reflects on the past, on Scouts who’ve passed, his family etc. When he’s like this he appreciates the space you give him, he knows you’re there for him if you want to talk and bringing him a coffee & whiskey or a cup of tea and kiss on the cheek is appreciated. He just needs his space sometimes.
Will let his facial hair get a little bit messy/grow out a bit (unless he needs to smarten up for a reason) he refers to it as his winter beard and says it helps keep him warm. Mike is
A few modern headcanons
Loves sitting in cafes with a drink, good book and just watching the world go by. It’s even better if it’s raining or snowing. It’s an activity he loves to do alone but also likes it when his partner is with him and they can both sit in comfortable silence.
When Starbucks/Costa Christmas cups come out he’s there on the very first day to get one and is excited to post to instagram - even though he doesn’t quite get it.
Doesn’t like doing Christmas shopping online, he much prefers carefully selecting presents in person - preferably from local retailers and a few favourite book/record stores. Also have organised with this and will have bought most presents by the start of December.
Likes to drive round to look at all the Christmas lights outside people’s houses - this is especially true if he’s a dad. He would want his children to have the most magical time every year.
Always happy to play Santa for the kids in the family or at a work Christmas do.
Definitely one who comes out of the shell at the work Christmas do - although a little more quiet and reserved in day to day life, at the party he’ll be dancing, cracking jokes and if he’s single wouldn’t mind a kiss under the mistletoe.
Will plan a day with his closest friends to just chill, drink, watch Christmas movies back to back and play games like monopoly and Cards Against Humanity - which he’s very good at.
#Mike Zakarius#Mike Zacharias#miche zacharias#snk#snk vets#snk headcanons#winter#mike x reader#requestes#my writing
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Girl Genius For The Boy Genius
Not my Gif
Masterlist
The team had just wrapped a case and were on the jet, headed home. Most of the them were exhausted, but not quite ready to sleep. Instead, they were all sitting around; chatting, listening to music, or reading(Reid specifically). Spencer looked up from his book to check his phone, smiling. This caught Morgan’s attention, again. This had been going on the whole flight.
“Come on kid, we know you’re seeing someone” Derek said sounding annoyed that his friend wouldn’t just tell them the truth, after weeks of asking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” Spencer said not looking up from his book. “Come on Spence! You have actually been using your phone to text! Like daily!” JJ says. “And you’ve been getting phone calls that clearly aren’t your mom” Emily adds “And you’ve been very smiley” Rossi says from his seat across the jet. “Very smiley” Hotch agrees from behind his paperwork.
Spencer sighs and picks up his phone again. “SEE!” Derek says pointing to the phone “Come on Reid when can we meet her?” Emily asks “Family dinner tomorrow night sounds like a perfect time” Rossi says as he walks over to join the conversation.
Spencer just groans, sinking down in his chair and continuing to text Y/N. He knew it was time but was just nervous. What he had with her was as close to perfect as possible and he couldn’t let anything ruin that.
Y/N was shelving books at her book shop when she heard her phone ding. Normally she would ignore it. Inventory days with her favorite coffee were her own personal heaven, but Spencer had been away on a case all week and she missed him. She opened her phone to see a text from him. Spencer- well my sweet, I think we’re finally busted. How do you feel about meeting my team tomorrow night? A gigantic smile overtakes her face as she squeals! She and Spencer had been dating for about 6 months now, and she loved their relationship. She understood him wanting to keep it quiet for a while, but she knew meeting his friends was basically taking the next step in their relationship and she was more than ready. Y/n- YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES!!! I’ll bake cookies and everything! Ahhh what if they hate me?!? Ahhh I’m so excited and nervous! I feel so many things! Spencer - Relax beautiful, they’ll love you! See you tonight. Y/N- I really hope so! can’t wait to see you, travel safe.
When Spencer’s phone dinged again Hotch joined the group “oh there’s the smile again” Spencer looked up smirking. “She’s in for tomorrow night.” He said looking back at his book. The whole team cheered as Emily grabbed the book from his hands and Morgan called Garcia. “Hey!” Spencer shrieked grabbing at the book “Tell is about her pretty boy” Morgan quipped “OHHHH HE FINALLY ADMITTED IT?” Garcia happily yelled through the phone “Yes and we are meeting her tomorrow!” Rossi said patting Spencer on the back.
“Reid I suggest you start talking if you want them to stop” hotch says laughing. “Fine” Spencer says with a sigh but still smiling. “Her name is Y/N Y/L/N, she has doctorates in English literature and linguistics. She owns a book store and teaches college courses on the side, we’ve been together for 6months.” He says smiling “A girl genius for our boy genius” Garcia says “She’s brilliant, and witty, and so beautiful.” Spencer says looking down. “Pretty boy’s in love!” Morgan says “Yes, but I haven’t actually told her that yet so keep your mouth shut!” He says nervously! They continue to ask him questions, saving some for when they actually meet her, like how they met and what kind of boyfriend their pretty boy is.
When they finally land Spencer wastes no time going to Y/N’s house. He knows she’ll be home by now. He knocks on the door and is greeted by his smiling girlfriend enveloping him in a giant hug before he can even walk in. “Hey there beautiful” he says kissing her lips gently. “Hi handsome!” She says kissing him again, this time his hands find her cheeks and he deepens the kiss, closing and locking the door blindly behind his back.
“Missed you” she says between kisses “Missed you too” he answers as he leads them to the couch. “I can tell” she says, climbing into his lap and curling into his body. He lays down taking her with him as they drift to sleep in each other’s arms.
The next day after making cookies and curling up on the couch to watch movies Y/N asks how Spencer’s case was and tells him about her week. Spencer notices she is starting to look a little nervous as they talk about the upcoming evening .
“What’s wrong y/N/N?” “Nothing Spence, it’s just, I can’t wait to meet your work family, but what if they don’t like me. What if they think I’m not good enough for you?” “They are going to love you Y/N!” “How do you know that?” “Because they’d be stupid not to, and while all crazy, none of them are stupid” he laughs, making y/n smile “plus, they’ll love you, because they know I do” he says nervously playing with her fingers. Y/N can feel her heart beat speed up at his words “They know you what Spence?” She asks, already hoping she knows the answer “They know I love you Y/N.” He says looking up into her eyes shyly. She smiles leaning into kiss him “I love you too Spencer Reid, so much!” He kisses her again, reluctantly pulling away to say, “Good, or else meeting the team tonight might be awkward.” They both laugh. “Speaking of which! I need to go get ready I’m meeting my love’s family tonight!” She says kissing his forehead as she goes to get ready for Rossi’s dinner.
Y/N’s nerves have subsided into mostly excitement until they reach Rossi’s front door. “They will love you y/n” Spencer says sensing her nerves, linking their hands as he knocks on the door. A handsome older Italian man answers the door ‘Rossi’ Y/N guesses In Her head as she smiles at him. “Welcome!” He says hugging Spencer and taking y/N’s hands in his “you must be y/n we are all so glad to meet you! I’m Dave Rossi” “It’s so nice to meet you too agent Rossi, thank you for having me” she says shaking his hand. “Please no agents or misses or Drs tonight! We’re family! Call me Dave!” He says hugging her and ushering them in. “I think I can do that” Y/N smiles as they enter a room full of delicious smelling food and smiling people.
“Hey guys!” Spencer says as he takes Y/N’s hand. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Remember I really like this girl so please don’t scare her away” he jokes kissing her temple and letting go of her hand as the team comes over to greet her. “Oh we are so excited to meet you!” The blonde with bright pink heels says. “You must be Penelope?” Y/N asks “I hear we are going to be fast friends” she says as Garcia pulls her into a hug. “Oh we already are my sweet!” “Baby girl share her!” Derek says as he shakes Y/N’s hand “Derek Morgan” he greets Y/N pulls him into a hug “thank you” she whispers, knowing he understands. “Thank you” he whispers back. As they pull away he says “we’ll talk later” she nods. “Our turn!” Jj says hugging her before Emily does! “I’m Emily!” “And I’m JJ and I am so glad you exist!” Y/N smiles and says “I’m glad you both exist too, and have his back.” Emily smiles and says “and we’re glad you have his heart.” Y/N smiles and blushes. She greets Will, Henry, and Jack. She then turns to the team leader. “And Hotch?” Y/N asked. “Yup! It’s so nice to meet the girl who got Reid here to use a cell phone.” He laughs hugging her and whispering “and got him to smile like that.” Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she took in the fact that her boyfriend had a family that loved him and kept him safe, and it seemed as though they already loved her too.
A while later as the men helped Rossi in the kitchen, the girls were drinking wine and watching JJ and Hotch’s sons play in the back yard. “So” Garcia starts, “Spencer made us wait to ask the cute relationship questions so how’d you meet!?!” Y/N smiles “Well I own a book store, and Spence reads pretty much 24/7, so we were bound to meet.” She laughs “but the full story is that he came in one day back in the winter, it was empty because of a snow storm but I opened any way, we started talking about literature and Russian novels and he basically told me that he Didn’t believe I was real, because I was too perfect, and then I asked him out and he said yes!” They all squealed and began asking all kinds of questions that y/N was happy to answer.
A very similar, but less screechy conversation was happening in the kitchen as the men assured Spencer that this girl was ‘perfect for him’ and that he better not let her get away.
The conversations and questions continued over dinner as Spencer help Y/N’s hand under the table. After dinner Y/N went to get more wine and bumped into Derek in the kitchen. “Just the girl I was hopping to see” he laughed “Yeah I guess I need to explain my thank you huh?” She smiled “I think I understand but go ahead” he urges “I wanted to thank you for always looking out for him, In the field of course, but also his happiness. I don’t think I’d be here if it weren’t for you” she says as Derek looks confused “Spencer isn’t the most confident man, and you help him realize he deserves happiness. Granted you were trying to give him confidence to ask out other girls” she laughs “which I forgive you for cause I was an enigma. But if it weren’t for you I think Spence would have ran from this, and I am so lucky and glad he didn’t.” She says smiling “so thank you.” Derek smiles and hugs her. “Thank you for making him happy. I know getting through to him isn’t always easy.” Derek says “but he deserves this, he deserves you.” She smiles and nods. “Now let’s get back to your boy huh?” He says leading her to the other room.
Spencer is sitting on the couch when Y/N leans over and kisses his cheek from behind. “Hey you” he greets. “hi” she says “just wanted to be near you for a second before I get swept away again” she giggles and as if on cue Emily comes over and grabs her hand “you can have her later Reid! She’s needed for girl talk” he laughs fake pouting “be careful with her” He says “yeah yeah” Emily laughs pulling y/n away.
Derek comes over to take a seat next to Spencer. “Man I know we’ve all said it but that girl is perfect for you!” He says nodding towards Y/N. “I know man” Spencer says watching her as she laughs “So don’t let her get away! You need to tell her you love her kid, make sure she knows,” He says “Maybe I already did tell her!” Spencer says causing Derek to raise his eye brow. “This afternoon before we came over. Don’t worry Morgan I’m not letting his girl get away.” He smiles. “I’m gonna marry her one day.” He says quietly, smiling. “You better pretty boy” Derek says smiling at how happy his friend is. “Or I will” he adds with a laugh Spencer turns to him with mocking anger “back off my girl Morgan” he says as they both laugh. Watching the girls talk, Spencer realizes just how lucky he is to have these people and that girl in his life.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid series#Criminal Minds#Criminal Minds Fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader
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From @hodgehegposts
to @eirabach
Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!
It had all started one, late, night, when Alan was back on duty on the Island and Brandon was busy halfway around the world trying to piece together enough footage to keep his vlog going over the next few weeks so that he could visit Alan without having to worry about not producing content. Their relationship seemed to be walking the tightrope that their two competing schedules spun, relying on snatched moments of contact over vid-calls and flying visits, but for the moment it was working for them. Brandon knew, deep in his heart, that the moment that it seemed to be getting too much, that it wasn’t enough any more to sustain themselves with these brief glimpses, that he would leave to go to the Island and be with Alan full time, if Alan would let him, knowing that Alan could never give up International Rescue even if he tried, but they hadn’t reached that stage yet. For now, they were coping, for now it was okay, even if it was at times tiring.
“Do you ever think,” Alan had said that one late night, huddled up in bed and cradling his comms device close to him. “Do you ever think that like, this isn’t the only universe?”
“What do you mean?” Brandon had asked, hair tousled from sleep, a mug of coffee on his bedside table growing cold.
“Like, do you think that maybe somewhere else, there’s an Alan and a Brandon who are able to spend all their time together? Like, an Alan and a Brandon where there isn’t an International Rescue, or whatever?”
“Maybe, I don’t know.”
“I think there is. I think there are infinite universes, each with something different in them, with infinite Alans and Brandons, all with their different lives.”
Brandon had just smiled, because only Alan would ever think to say something like that.
Meanwhile, in another universe...
It was cold, snow piled high along the edges of the sidewalk and the sky had been heavy with the threat of more for the past week. It was one of those long, dark winters that made people want to hibernate, to stay inside with blankets and hot chocolate and fluffy socks. People didn’t, of course, because life didn’t stop just because it was a harsh winter, but that didn’t meant that there weren’t appreciative smiles when people stepped inside and into warmth, shedding coats, hats, scarves and gloves like they were a second skin, stamping on the doormat to shake off the snow from boots and blowing on frozen fingertips.
That hustle and bustle wasn’t present this morning, though. The city was sleepy and still, the late rising sun staining the sky with a fiery orange, a spot of bright vibrancy in the otherwise stark weather. It didn’t matter, though, how beautiful the orange was, because those who were up to see it were already focused on other things, on family and sugar and laughter. In a tiny, cramped apartment with dodgy radiators and plants spilling across the countertops, buttery yellow curtains at the window and a blue sofa that seemed too big for the space it had been squeezed into, a young couple were smiling, the radio playing softly in the background whilst one of them tried to cook and the other instructed from the kitchen table, a plaster clad leg propped up on a stool and pile of cushions.
“Are you sure that’s right? It looks like a mess,” Alan said, frowning at the bowl in front of him. Brandon rolled his eyes, shifting a little in his seat.
“Yes.”
“But it doesn’t look like cookie dough.”
“That’s because you haven’t added the flour yet.”
“It looks like shit.”
“Alan,” said Brandon, aiming for stern but missing when he wasn’t able to completely hide his grin. “It’s supposed to look like that. That’s what happens when you add the wet ingredients and dry ingredients together separately.”
“Are you sure though? You’ve seen my grandma’s cooking, the stories of food poisoning were not exaggerated, and I really really don’t want to find out that I managed to inherit those genes on Christmas Day. We’ve spent enough time in the emergency room for this month.”
The tone was light and teasing, but Brandon could see the worry that still flashed through Alan’s eyes at the memory of the snowboarding accident, the way his hand tightened ever so slightly around the mixing spoon, and Brnadon wished he could stand and cross the small kitchen, wished he could kiss away all of his eyes boyfriend’s stress and bad memories. Instead, he went for a wry half smile, flicking a stray chocolate chip from the small pile given to him by Alan when he had pouted over not being able to steal any.
“Hey,” Brandon said, trying to lift the atmosphere that was starting to settle. “I’m okay. And I know how to make cookies, and I trust you. Don’t stress, okay?”
“...Okay,” Alan agreed, giving Brandon a small, tentative smile. Brandon huffed.
“Alan, it’s fine.” He reached across the table, only just managing to brush the very end of his fingertips across Alan’s soft hoodie, but Alan got the message, moving around the table and bending down so Brandon could give him a small, reassuring kiss. “Just chill, yeah? It’s Christmas. And you promised me cookies for breakfast and I plan on holding you to that, so better get baking.”
“So demanding,” Alan teased, still leaning over Brandon.
“You love it.”
“I do.” He gave Brandon one last, sweet, kiss before straightening back up and returning to the kitchen counter. “Right then. Flour.”
“Yep. All purpose, one cup.” Brandon sat back, crunching on another chocolate chip and trying (and failing) not to laugh when Alan dumped a cup of flour into the mixture with a heavy hand and caused a white cloud to puff up into his face.
***
Later, when the sun had finally risen properly and the air outside was light, bright and clear, despite the freezing temperatures such weather brought with it, Alan and Brandon were tucked side by side on the blue sofa, sharing one of the many blankets Gordon had gifted Alan with when Alan had first moved to Colorado. Alan had protested at the time, but Gordon had pointed out that LA was different to Denver, and Alan would thank him later. Alan had rolled his eyes petulantly and hadn’t, in fact, thanked him, but he could at least appreciate the usefulness of them, even if they were a particularly ugly shade of yellow that didn’t match their curtains and only Gordon and Brandon seemed to like.
It may be ugly (in Alan’s opinion, not that he was famed for his interior design skills), but it’s soft and warm and, most importantly, big enough to cover the two of them, Alan tucked into Brandon’s side whilst Brandon sat diagonally in the corner seat, broken leg stretched out and propped up on a stack of Alan’s old textbooks, softened by one of the cushions taken from the sofa. There was an untouched plate of cookies on Brandon’s lap and a cheesy Christmas film that was playing on the television in the background, going mostly ignored. It was soft and sweet and domestic in the living room that was barely bigger than the kitchen, if two separate rooms could even be made distinct given that it was a large bookshelf that marked a divide, full of books, trinkets and photographs, rather than an actual wall.
“...are you going to try one?” Alan asked eventually, breaking the comfortable quiet. Brandon’s eyebrow raised, but he lifted a cookie to his mouth, taking a large bite and not breaking his gaze on Alan. Alan could feel himself blush, waiting with baited breath as Brandon chewed swallowed, eventually ducking his head into Brandon’s shoulder. Alan could still feel his eyes burning into him as the silence stretched. “Well? And stop looking at me like that, you’re making me nervous.”
“Well…”
“Oh God. I've poisoned you, haven't I? They’re awful. We should’ve just stuck to cereal, and now I’ll have to write your eulogy where I explain to everyone that it was my lack of baking skills that killed you-”
“Alan. Shut up. They’re good.”
“...what?”
“They’re good.” He shifted, dislodging Alan enough so that he could kiss him softly, the taste of chocolate chips and sugar on his lips. “Thank you, baby.”
“Merry Christmas, Brandon,” Alan mumbled into the kiss, not willing to pull away. He could feel Brandon’s lips pull up into a smile against his own.
“Merry Christmas. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Meanwhile, in another universe…
Brandon had always, always, associated Christmas with snow. As a child, his family had always jetted off to spend Christmas abroad in some picturesque, aesthetically pleasing place with the backdrop of snow and pine needles, choosing to spend the Christmas holiday in a bed not their own and paint the picture of a happy, perfect family that had made Brandon want to scream when he was old enough to understand the hypocrisy of it all. It hadn't been any better as Brandon got older and he was shipped off to work for his godfather in a bid to curb some of his wild tendencies. It hadn’t really worked, of course, because Lemaire was just as wild as Brandon in his projects, albeit with the benefit of dressing it up as a need to explore, rather than to satisfy his own endless curiosity and need for adrenaline, but at least now Brandon had a better understanding of the importance of a carefully curated public persona, why aesthetic shots of dreamy wooden chalets to paint a false image was important.
Still. Just because he could now appreciate his family’s motivations, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to jump at the chance to spend Christmas with Alan, when the idea was first proposed, complete with shy blushes and a hopeful, tentative smile. Brandon had simply kissed Alan, hard, and given his now breathless boyfriend the biggest smile possible that told him just how excellent an idea that was.
Brandon was supposed to have arrived on the twenty-second of December, enough time to acclimatise to the Island and meet everyone before the main festivities began, but this got pushed back to the twenty-third and then again to the twenty-fourth, when a bright pink car pulled up outside his apartment and a person who was decidedly not Alan stepped out, a small pug in a seasonal red jumper held securely under one arm whilst the other was outstretched for Brandon to shake the perfectly manicured hand.
“Brandon? Alan is terribly sorry, he was desperately keen to come and get you himself but unfortunately rescues have held all of them up and you’ve just been stuck with me. I do hope you don’t mind. I’m Penelope Creighton-Ward.”
“It’s fine,” Brandon assured, finally able to place a face to Gordon’s girlfriend that Alan had mentioned once or twice before. He ducked quickly into his hallway to pick up his bags and followed Penelope to the car.
The flight to the Island was pleasant enough, Penelope making polite conversation as they crossed the ocean, but Brandon was feeling increasingly impatient, a feeling that didn’t dissipate until they had landed and he was finally, finally, back in Alan’s arms. Luckily, only Gordon and Alan were around and it was easy to sneak back to Alan’s bedroom to exchange kisses and private smiles, drinking in each other’s presence now that they were together again.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come and get you,” Alan said eventually, cuddled up into Brandon’s side and struggling to keep his eyes open. “Stupid space pirate ghosts.”
The hand that Brandon was using to card through Alan’s hair stilled, and he looked down at him in confusion, Alan’s soft hair tickling his nose. “The… what?”
“Space pirate ghosts,” Alan repeated, mumbling through a yawn. “Met them before but they’re so annoying.”
“If you say so.”
“They are, you’re lucky you haven’t met them. They just cause so many problems and steal my astro-boards all the time. So annoying.”
“Space pirate ghosts?”
“Yes. Or space ghost pirates if you prefer.”
“I think you need to sleep, baby.”
“Mmm,” Alan agreed. It wasn’t a tacit agreement, but Alan’s breaths started to even out and Brandon had resumed the gentle strokes through his hair. It wasn’t long before the two of them were sound asleep, tangled and pressed close together as the sun began to rise on Christmas Day.
Meanwhile, in another universe…
Everything was beautiful. It was beautiful and perfect and tasteful, from the canapés and trays of drinks being carried unobtrusively around the edges of the room to the elegant decoration of holly and pine, a great Christmas tree standing at the opposite end to the hall where the band was playing, soft white lights twinkling from where they had been wrapped around the branches and catching on the red and gold glass baubles and causing them to shine in bright spots of colour that culminated in a great, golden sunburst of a star at the top of the tree. The music was loud enough to cover people’s conversations and provide a semblance of privacy, but not too loud that the guests had to shout at each other, playing a wide range of popular carols and songs that had prompted enough people to take to the dance floor that it was now quite full.
None of that mattered to Brandon, however. Nothing mattered at all, hadn’t mattered the moment the Tracy family had stepped through the great doors in full force, all decked out in their smart suits and commanding attention without even trying. Lady Penelope had glided forward in full hostess mood, greeting Jeff Tracy first with a kiss to each cheek and a musical laugh to whatever comment he made to her, before turning to each of the brothers and welcoming them each with a kiss of their own, leaving Gordon until last and breaking the pattern with a swift kiss to the lips. Brandon watched as Gordon had beamed, his entire person brightening up even more, brighter than the sun, and Brandon had to squash the pang of longing and jealousy forcefully. It wasn’t fair to indulge in those feelings. He and Alan had talked about it, had agreed to keep things just between them for now whilst things were so new and Alan still hadn’t, actually, come out to his family, and it was fine. Brandon loved Alan more than anything and wouldn’t ask anything from Alan that would make him uncomfortable, wouldn’t even think to ask.
Still, watching as Gordon pressed a kiss to Penelope’s hand and guided her onto the dance floor to spin her around in time to the music, Brandon couldn’t help the small part of him that wished that one day, he’d be able to scoop Alan up and sway with him on the dance floor as well.
***
It didn’t take long for Alan to find him, or for him to find Alan, or for the two of them to gravitate together because really, they were like magnets in the way they managed to always seek each other out at gatherings like these. One of the advantages of being related to rich, powerful families was that they were often at gatherings for rich, powerful people and it was perfectly natural that a friendship would have sprung up between the two of them, providing a perfect cover story for their meet-ups. Even still, when they did inevitably find each other that evening, it was in a secluded doorway that seemed to be mostly hidden from the rest of the room, a door almost hidden by a heavy velvet curtain that Brandon was currently standing behind as he pressed Alan into the door frame, their lips sliding urgently over each other as hands gripped at suit jackets.
“Wait,” Alan gasped breathlessly, pulling back to gaze heavy lidded at Brandon. His lips were pink and puffy, and Brandon couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss them once, twice, three times more. Alan’s hands moved from where he was pulling Brandon’s hips closer to cup his cheeks instead, stopping Brandon from being able to distract him further. “I have something to tell you.”
“Can it wait?” asked Brandon, his question more of a plea.
“It’s important.”
“Alan…”
“I came out to my dad.”
That pulled Brandon up short, stopped him from trying to drop kisses down Alan’s neck, choosing to look Alan in the eye instead as he tried to gauge Alan’s feelings towards coming out to his dad.
“You did?”
“Yeah. I um… I told him that I had a boyfriend. I didn’t say it was you, because I know we agreed to go slow for now and not tell a whole bunch of people and I wanted to talk to you first before Dad knows, but yeah. He was okay about it and now he knows. He knows I like guys. Or I guess a guy. A specific guy. You-“
Brandon cut Alan’s nervous rambling off with a searing kiss, trying to pour as much love and support as possible into it until his brain managed to come up with adequate words to say. The moan Alan rewarded him with indicated Brandon’s success.
“I love you, so much. I’m so proud of you,” Brandon said when they finally pulled apart, thumb brushing the nape of Alan’s neck and arms resting on his shoulders. Alan’s face split into the widest grin.
“I love you too.”
“Are you staying the night?” Brandon asked, already tipping forward for another kiss, pushing Alan further back into the wall.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re amazing, hot as hell and we’ve been kissing for a while now and I don’t think it’d be a good idea to go back out with all those fancy people including our families.”
“...fuck.”
“My point exactly.”
“Follow me, I know a shortcut.”
Alan took one of Brandon’s hands, lacing their fingers together, and fumbled for the door behind them. Just as he was tugging Brandon through it, Brandon reached up and snagged the branch of mistletoe that was hanging unobtrusively above it, winking at Alan’s questioning look.
“For later,” he promised, and tried not to laugh as Alan started pulling him through the manor at a quicker pace.
Meanwhile, in this universe…
Brandon stifled a smile when he saw Alan yawn for the fifth time, easily making the calculations that were by now second nature when trying to determine the time zones and working out that it had now gone midnight for Alan and that Alan really needed to sleep. The conversation had drifted and meandered along, as it was prone to do when the two of them were talking, but Brandon couldn’t stop thinking about what Alan had said earlier, about the different universes with the different Alans and Brandons.
“Hey, Alan,” he said, and Alan blinked at him sleepily, already curled on his side with one arm tucked under his pillow.
“Hmm?”
“I think you’re right. About the different universes.”
“Of course. I’m super smart,” he bragged, and Brandon rolled his eyes, the move tempered by his huffed laugh.
“I know baby. But I think, even with all those different universes, there isn’t a single one where we don’t find each other.”
“No?”
“No. I think in every one we’re together, and that we’re happy.”
“I’m happy in this one. With you.”
“I know. And I’ll be with you tomorrow. Well. My tomorrow.”
“I know. I love you, Brandon.
“I love you too. I’ll see you at Christmas.”
“See you at Christmas.”
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds 2015#tag team secret santa#secret santa 2020#Brandon Berringer#alan tracy#hodgehegposts
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*Chapter 4: Together*
Ink: age 26
Error: Age 27
“Is the blindfold really necessary?”
Ink giggled, steering his taller boyfriend through their cozy home, pushing him into a chair in their dining room. “It’s very necessary! It’s your birthday, and I’ve got a surprise!”
“You don’t have to blindfold me to give me a blowjob, babe.”
“Error!” The small skeleton smacked Error’s arm, his partner erupting into laughter. “Good god, you’re so dirty minded sometimes.”
Ink walked away from the table, leaving Error sitting there, still blindfolded, and pulled out an ice cream cake from the freezer. He had originally wanted to bake a cake, but it would have been nearly impossible to hide that from the other monster. It would have both heated up their place and filled it with the smell of baking. Then there was the whole buying the ingredients, which would have been very suspicious to Error.
He did however, manage to buy two candles: a two and a seven.
Outside, snow was falling in large puffs, covering the ground in a cold, white blanket. It looked magical, and Ink hoped they’d be able to take a walk later on. The white skeleton hummed, pushing his two candles into the frosting before carefully lighting them.
He took the cake, walked back to his boyfriend and set the cake on the table in front of him. “Ok! Take off the blindfold!”
Error brought his hands to his face, pulling the blindfold off. He stared in surprise at the cake, then his gaze softened as he looked up to Ink, who had taken a seat adjacent to him. His cheeks were flushed, and the darker skeleton chuckled and blew out the two colourful candles. “I know you said you didn’t want anything too… extravagant for your birthday, but I wanted to do something for you.”
Error reached across the table, intertwining his and Ink’s fingers. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
“I was thinking, since it’s so pretty outside, we could go on a walk later!”
Error chuckled, putting two pieces of cake onto plates, handing one to his partner. “Sounds good sweets, we could go to that coffee place you like so much.”
The monster nodded enthusiastically, taking a bite out of his slice of cake.
Error helped Ink tie his scarf later that evening, laughing when the boy complained. The walk was very nice, with the large snowflakes falling around them as they walked hand in hand along the streets.
They entered the small coffee shop - a small, cozy cafe called “See you Latte” - and the familiar sound of the bell above the door rang out. “Ink, Error! It’s so good to see you two again!” The shop’s owner, a small cat monster named Nari, greeted them as she started getting their usual drinks prepared. The two monsters came here very often, and as a result the owner and most of the workers all knew them very well. Ink happily struck up a conversation with Nari and her employees, while Error opted to take a seat, letting his gaze wander around the warm building. It wasn’t busy tonight, there were only three other customers: what appeared to be another couple, and a student working on some project of theirs.
The two skeleton’s got their drinks and, despite Error’s protests, Ink paid. Sitting at their table, ideally playing footsie under the table, Ink easily rambled; and the two joked and laughed loudly with each other, both of their souls warm and fuzzy from the other’s presence. At one point, the student gave them a sharp glare, which only made Error laugh more.
Eventually, once they finished their warm beverages, they bid farewell to the owner who was getting ready to close the cafe, and stepped back into the chilled night air.
At home, they had a bath to warm up - nothing sexual, Ink had brought in a book and Error had spent the time reading over his shoulder, and admiring his loved one as he relaxed against him. It was his favourite way to see him; just casually relaxing in his embrace, or one of his hoodies, obviously comforfortable and happy. Slowly, Error let himself drift off in his thoughts.
It had been many years since the boys had graduated and started dating - nine, to be exact - and they now lived in a cozy, two story home. A little after they graduated, they had moved into a small apartment. It wasn't the best, but it was their first home, and they had both loved it. Error quickly found a new full time job at a computer store - it was a job that he not only liked, but it paid better than his last job. Ink, on the other hand, got a job at a nearby library. It was quiet, peaceful and Ink had grown to love it (and his coworkers) dearly.
When Ink turned 23, the talk of marriage had popped up between the two men. They looked for a new home and found the one they lived in now. It was roomy with a large backyard - perfect for kids! - and once they had saved up enough, they moved in.
But, marriage plans were pushed aside when Ink’s mother, Winter, passed away shortly after they moved into their new home. No one had realized the severity of Winter’s illness until she told Ink when he was 21. She’d contracted a rare disease that was caused by complications during Ink’s birth.
Complications from childbirth, while rare for monsters, could not only still happen, but could take years before it is noticed. One of the rarest diseases fractures the pregnant parent’s soul because the baby’s soul doesn’t detach properly and takes a portion of the parent’s soul with them; which causes a chain reaction that eventually results in the parent’s death. This chain reaction, unfortunately, takes years to occur and is very hard to detect in the earlier stages. Treatment is nonexistent for monsters with this disease because, once it is found, there is nothing that can be done to reverse the damage.
After her death, Ink immediately started to blame himself; he felt that if he hadn't been born, his mother would still be alive.
Seeing Ink fall into such a low place …terrified Error. He knew what it was like to fall into a mind pit like that and he never wanted his loved one to feel the way he had. So he helped his boyfriend in all the ways he could think of. Of course he gave the small skeleton space and time to grieve, but Error made sure to remind him that he was loved and cared for by bringing up happy memories time and time again. He never questioned when Ink would suddenly become cuddly, practically clinging to the taller monster. He also got Ink to, begrudgingly, see a therapist to help him heal; the therapist helped Ink to see that his mother’s death wasn’t his fault. Although, if you asked him, Ink would deny it.
Even though Ink was now doing a lot better, marriage and kids never seemed to come up in their conversations anymore. A part of Error assumed it was because Ink didn’t want either of those things anymore, especially after what had happened with his mother.
Coming back to the situation at hand, Error blinked up at Ink. He had a towel wrapped around his body and was handing the other towel to the monster who was still in the tub. Taking the towel, he unplugged and drained the tub before drying off and getting dressed for bed. Leaving the attached bathroom, Error crawled beneath the pile of blankets on their shared bed. With Ink’s hatred of the cold, Error always made sure their bed was layered with blankets to ensure his boyfriend was always comfortable and warm. Ink followed him closely and snuggled up next to the ebony skeleton, his face nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
“Hey Ink?”
The small monster hummed in response, turning to look up at him.
“I…” He wanted to ask if Ink would ever want to marry him, have a family, but… well, he was a bit scared of the answer. If Ink didn’t want to, of course that was ok with Error, he was happy just as long as they were together. Plus, he didn’t want to somehow make Ink uncomfortable because of the question. “Nevermind, it’s not important.” He kissed the top of his boyfriend's skull.
“Oh, come on Erry.” Ink pushed away so that they were an arm’s length away. “We said we’d always talk to each other. So tell me what’s bothering you.”
Error sighed; he loved Ink with all his soul, but he sometimes wished the other skeleton couldn’t read him so easily. “Would you still want us to get married someday..?”
“What? Of course I do! Oh goodness, is that what you were worried about?” Ink giggled, curling up to his chest again. “You’re so silly sometimes.”
Error laughed nervously, nuzzling his partner. “Mh… I love you hun.”
Ink yawned. “I love you too.”
*****
“Wait, he hasn’t proposed yet?!”
Ink looked up at his coworker - Ray was the only human he actually knew, and they met each other through their work and had quickly become good friends. She had dark skin and shoulder length dark brown hair, one side of it cut to her scalp. Her hair was dyed purple at the tips, which Ink found fascinating. “Nope.”
Honestly, Ink was as surprised as Ray. After Error had asked that question about marriage on his birthday, he has assumed he was planning on proposing that week, or not long after, but here he was, four months later, and Error still had yet to pop the question.
“Haven’t you two been together for, what, seven years now?”
“Our ten year anniversary is in a few days, actually.” He turned back to shelving books. “Error has always taken his time with these sort of things, but this is… well, I figured we’d be married and maybe starting a family by now.”
Behind him, Ray cleared her throat rather loudly. Ink turned, then froze. Beside her stood a very worried looking Error, holding a brown paper bag. “Honey! What.. what are you doing here?” His gaze slipped to Ray, who was slowly backing away from them.
“You forgot your lunch so I made something for you…” His voice wavered and he looked down. Ink bit his lip, he’d definitely heard what Ink had said.
“Error, look, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“... am I taking too long? Are you going to-”
“No. I’m not leaving.” He sighed, taking the paper bag and setting it aside. “Look at me Erry.” The black skeleton did as he was told, and Ink reached up on his tip toes, cupping his face. “Yeah, as a kid I always pictured being married and having kids by 26, but that doesn’t mean I’m upset about how things turned out. I love you, and I’m ok with waiting until you’re ready.”
“But-”
Ink kissed him, ending his sentence. “You don’t need to explain anything, I understand, ok? And I’m not mad. At all.” He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s nasal ridge for good measure, then let him go. “thank you for the lunch - I don’t know how I forgot it again.”
He giggled and Error rolled his eyes, his nervous demeanor changing back to his cocky attitude. “You’ve always been forgettful as fuck.”
Ray popped back up around the corner. “Aspine’s saying she wants you at the front Ink.” Ray dramatically rolled her eyes, clearly displaying her distaste for the rabbit monster. Not that Ink liked her very much either: ever since highschool she’d been hitting on Error, and hasn’t stopped even though they were now all adults and he was clearly taken.
“Probably saw me come in and wants to get you away from me.” Error said with a snort, smirking when Ink’s face turned down to a pout. He never took things like this seriously. As far as he is concerned, no one’s fruitless flirting would make him leave his cute little boyfriend.
Ink sighed. “I hate working front desk. People always ask me why a child is working.”
“Weeeeeell-”
“Don’t you start.”
The ebony skeleton chuckled, leaning down and giving him a gentle kiss. “I’ll leave you to it then, see ya later hun.”
“Bye Erry.” He waited a minute, watching him leave, then made his way to the front desk; mentally preparing himself for all the annoying comments and looks.
*****
Error patted his pockets, feeling the hard lump of the ring box and blew out a puff of air. Was this a good idea? He had been planning this before he heard Ink talking to his friend about it in the library, but what if Ink thinks he did this because of that overheard conversation and gets upset?
He was sitting in their car, parked outside of the old Library that his boyfriend worked at, a fully packed picnic basket sitting in the back seat with a folded blanket on top. A few weeks ago, while mindlessly scrolling through social media on one of his breaks, he had seen something about a meteor shower happening on this day. After doing more research about it, he learned that it only happens every 5000 years, and is told to be very beautiful.
It was just what he was looking for.
He packed a rather large picnic basket after dropping off Ink’s lunch - he had made sure to take the day off in order to get everything ready, and planned to take Ink out to “their” hill right after the boy was done work.
There, under the spectacular meteor shower, he planned to propose.
He just hoped everything would go as planned.
The library was one of the older buildings in the city; Blightview was a very old city, but modern architecture gave it a very modern look despite that. The building was made from thick stone, with small details carved into them; Error decided it was a very nice building to look at. One of the large, dark wood doors opened, and out walked Ink, chatting amicably to his friend, Ray. Error didn’t know her well, but from what Ink had told him, she seemed nice, albeit a bit strange. The small monster’s gaze found the black skeleton, and he waved excitedly, bringing a small grin to Error’s face. Ink said goodbye to his friend, who also waved to Error, then practically sprinted to the car, flopping into the passenger seat. “Hi sweetie!”
“Hey sweetheart.” He quickly kissed his cheek bone, then pulled the car out of park, driving away from the large building. “How do you feel about going on a picnic?”
“Huh?” He noticed the basket in the backseat, understanding washing over his features. “Oh! That certainly came out of nowhere, but it sounds nice!”
“I read about a meteor shower happening tonight, I figured we could go to the hill and watch it together.”
Ink giggled, making Error’s soul sing in his chest. Funny how, even after all these years, small things like that never failed to make him feel that. “That sounds lovely~ Maybe later we could have a little “meteor shower” of our own~”
Error snorted. “And you say I’m the dirty minded one?”
*****
By the time they made it out to the hill, the sun was nearly gone, sinking into the ground, bleeding into the sky with oranges and pinks. Ink helped Error lay out the blanket and unpack the basket, even though the ebony monster had insisted that he didn’t need any help.
Once everything was out, Ink snuggled up to his boyfriend, nuzzling into his chest. A moment of panic crossed over the larger monster - the ring was literally in his pocket, what if Ink felt it? It would ruin the whole surprise.
But the small monster didn’t say anything, holding his plate of food and watching the sky as the stars started peaking out.
“A lot of things have happened here.”
Error hummed, following Ink’s gaze to the sky. “You got that right.”
“Our lives.. always seem to lead us here. It’s our spot.”
The two were silent for a moment after that, eating their food and watching the starry sky, waiting for the star show.
“I believe… that everyone has that one person they were meant for. Like their souls are connected to each other, even before they bond. Somebody who, no matter what happens, you always end up with, and love. Nothing could pull them apart.” He looked to his boyfriend, small tears in the corners of his large eyes. “You’re that person for me Error. I… I can’t even begin to express how much I love you, and appreciate you in my life.”
Error cooed, using his thumb to wipe away his tears. “Ink… there’s another reason I wanted to take you o-”
The white monster suddenly gasped, pointing to the sky. “Look! It’s starting!!”
Error turned, his eye’s widening as he took in the sight before him. It was like bright shooting stars were falling from everywhere in the sky, trailing bright pinks, blues and every colour of the rainbow. It lit up the sky and the ground with stunning colours. It was gorgeous.
Despite that, it was Ink’s face that made Error melt. The boy’s eyes were huge, the lights reflecting in them, and shining on his already flushed face. His mouth was pulled up in a smile as he stared up in wonder at the sky.
Now’s the time.
Carefully, the skeleton took his lover’s hand and stood, pulling up the small monster with him. “Ink, I need to ask you something.” His voice was hushed and Ink pulled his eyes away from the sky to lock eyes with him. He looked so perfect.
Error slowly went down on one knee, letting go of Ink’s hand, he pulled out the small box from his pocket. Realizing what was happening, Ink’s hand flew up to cover his mouth, new tears forming in his eyes.
“I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you. I… don’t know what I would have done without you, you’ve helped me through so much, and for that I’ll always be grateful.” He opened the small box, the ring inside reflecting the bright and colourful lights around them. The ring was engraved with small carvings along the band, leading to a small blue crystal in the center. After learning that Ink’s last name, Agate, was actually the name of a crystal, he knew that that would be perfect for the ring. “Ink… will you make me the happiest monster in the world, and marry me?”
The white skeleton was smiling, tears falling freely from his eye sockets. “Yes… Yes!! Of course I’ll marry you!!” Error grinned widely, tears forming in his own eyes. He carefully slid the glimmering ring onto Ink’s small finger then stood up, wrapping his arms around him.
Ink was crying, gripping Error’s shirt and rambling about how happy he was as Error suddenly picked him up, twirling him around, erupting giggles from the monster. “I love you so fucking much.” He hummed, pushing away his tears and kissing his new fiance.
Still giggling, Ink placed his hands on either side of Error’s skull, placing their foreheads together. “I think this is the start of all the bad stuff being behind us, right?”
“Oh definitely.” Error nuzzled Ink, who happily nuzzled him back. The ebony skeleton sat back down, his partner curled up to his chest as they watching the stunning meteor shower. Together. In each other’s arm.
Life was perfect. And Error had never felt so happy, and lucky.
“I mean, what could wrong now?”
~The End~
Ink and Error will return in DystopianTale
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Second Zimbits bingo post #2
See the first post
Urban fantasy
Bitty woke to weak sunlight illuminating a bare room.
The corners were dusty, but the sheets on the bed were clean enough, if a little scratchy. The T-shirt Jack had given him to sleep in was plenty soft, and so big it covered Bitty down to the thighs.
He crawled out of bed and to the radiator, where he’d draped his wet clothes the night before. He prodded at them with a finger. His underwear was dry, thank the Lord, and his jeans were only a little damp around the waistband. His own T-shirt, rinsed in the bathroom sink with his underwear and socks, had also dried.
His shoes, though … maybe he could get away with stocking feet until he actually had to leave the house. Haus? Jack had pronounced it kind of funny when he welcomed Bitty inside the night before and showed him the living room with its truly disgusting couch. If the living room was his only choice, Bitty had decided, he would sleep on the floor. It was still miles better than trying to find shelter outside.
But then Jack had gone upstairs for a few minutes. When he came back down, he said, “Looks like Johnson’s away again. You can have his bed for the night.”
Jack had shown him the bathroom, which was also gross, but had hot water, and given him a clean shirt that fit Bitty like it was meant to be nightclothes anyway.
Bitty had reveled in the feeling of the shower raining down on his shoulders and back, and he uttered a silent apology to whoever owned the soap and shampoo he used. Once he was clean, he washed his smalls as best he could. He was just wringing them out when Jack knocked on the door and called, “I don’t know if you have a toothbrush, but there should be a new one in the drawer on the left if you want it.”
“Thanks, Jack,” Bitty called back, and lost no time in cleaning his teeth,
“No problem,” Jack said. “I have to be up early, so I’m going to bed. Good night,”
“Good night,” Bitty replied through a mouthful of toothpaste.
Jack really had turned out to be a godsend after a less than auspicious beginning. Bitty had felt the tears coming when he turned to leave Jack’s shop after hearing it was already closed; he didn’t know how far he he had walked in the snow already, and he just wanted a chance to get warm, even if the cost of coffee or tea would have put a dent in the meager funds in his wallet.
Maybe his magic had somehow summoned Jack when he needed him? Or if not summoned him, given him a change of heart?
No, probably not. Bitty’s magic didn’t usually work without him making an effort, and he had never tried to work it on people. That seemed wrong, somehow. Besides, if he could have used magic to change hearts, he would have used it on Mama and Coach and stayed in his old, comfortable life.
At any rate, it was way past early, judging by the winter sun, but Jack hadn’t woken him to send him on his way. He wasn’t even sure which room was Jack’s, and he didn’t want to wake up a stranger by mistake, so he couldn’t look for him..
Once dressed, Bitty folded Jack’s T-shirt over his arm, picked up his shoes and padded down the stairs. He wasn’t exactly sure how many people lived here, or what their relationship was to one another, but Jack didn’t seem to think they’d mind Bitty crashing for the night. He could at least do some muffins to thank them, assuming there was a working kitchen.
The living room with the disgusting couch was empty of people, and so was the kitchen just beyond it. Well, kitchen, if he used the term loosely. There was a refrigerator, and a stove, and a sink and cabinets. Maybe the appliance that got the most use was the microwave, judging by the food spattered on the inside of the door.
The floor didn’t look like it had been mopped this year, the refrigerator was full of beer and convenience foods and the cabinets held boxes of protein bars and at least a case of sriracha.
How had Jack made such good coffee yesterday? If this was his kitchen, it was really no wonder that he thought it acceptable to microwave a stale scone. The wonder was that the scone was edible at all.
No matter. Bitty could make his muffins and get this kitchen set to rights. It was really the least he could do for the people who took him in last night, even if most of them didn’t know it yet.
Bitty wrinkled his nose as he stuffed his feet into his damp shoes and made his way to the counter. He pulled his old recipe book from the pocket of his hoodie and turned the pages, looking for what to make when ingredients were scarce. Soon, he had a batter mixed with eggs, flour, oil and milk that all came to hand at just the right time. So did blueberries. They were frozen, but Bitty supposed he couldn’t be too picky when it was February.
The oven was ancient, and it took ages to heat, but it did get hot. While Bitty was waiting, he made a start on the cleaning. Once the muffins were baking, he looked at the ingredients he had left and made a start on a pie. Muffins were good, but it really would take a pie to show the depth of his gratitude. Besides, he couldn’t even think of leaving until it was done and the kitchen was set to rights. It didn’t hurt that he found apples for the filling as soon as the dough for the crust was chilling.
The muffins were out and the pie in the oven when he was interrupted by two men, both at least Jack’s size, maybe bigger, standing in the doorway.
“What the fuck is that smell?” one said. “It smells like my aunt’s house, but with more love and innocence.”
“Bro, no offense, but I’ve been to your aunt’s house,” the larger one said. “Compared to this, her house smells like a shithole.”
Bitty stood stock still. He was pretty sure they meant the food smelled good (because really, it did), but the way they expressed themselves …
He was still standing and staring when the first man who spoke noticed him.
“Uh, who are you, little dude?”
“And what are you doing in our kitchen?” the bigger guy said. “Are you like some kind of an elf out of a fairy tale?”
An elf? This man was mistaking a full-grown man for an elf? Sure, he was a kitchen witch, but you couldn’t tell by looking.
“I’m not an elf,” he said. “Jack let me stay here last night, and I figured I’d make y’all some food to thank you for your hospitality.”
“Jack’s gone already, bro,” the not-quite-as-large one said. “Sorry if you were expecting to see him this morning.”
“Imagine that,” the other one said. “Jack bringing a guy home, and then sneaking out of his own room while the guy’s sleeping. Sorry for his lack of manners, uh —”
Bitty knew his face was burning at what the man was implying. He would never, not just after meeting someone at least. Not that he hadn’t thought about it a little before falling asleep, wearing Jack’s T-shirt. Jack was … very attractive, and kind, even if his manners left something to be desired. Bitty had laughed at himself then, for thinking his life could be like one of Mama’s romance novels, with a hero with a chiseled jaw and six-pack abs coming to his rescue.
“Eric,” Bitty finally managed to sputter. “Eric Bittle. And if you were implying what I thought you were, it wasn’t like that. I took shelter from the storm in Jack’s coffee shop last night, and he let me stay in — I think he said it was someone named Johnson’s room?”
“Johnson,” the blond snorted. “Dude’s never here. Anyway, I’m Adam. You can call me Holster. This is Justin, but he goes by Ransom.”
“Okay,” Bitty said. “Y’all can call me Bitty, if you want. Sit, and have some muffins. The coffee’s probably not as good as Jack’s —” Bitty glared at the crusty old coffee maker “— but it should do.”
Ransom and Holster sat and ate. They ate so much that Bitty had to keep a close eye on the basket, especially after another man, this one in nothing but a mustache and Wonder Woman briefs, wandered in.
“Hell — holy shit, what is this?” he said, seeing the basket of muffins that the first two hadn’t quite been able to finish off. Probably because Bitty had multiplied them when no one was looking.
“Breakfast,” Ransom said, taking another bite. “Thanks to our new best friend, Eric Bittle.”
“He’s ours, Shitty,” Holster said. “You can’t have him.”
“That’s not how friendship works,” the new guy — Shitty? — said before Bitty could protest. “Where’d you find him?”
“In the kitchen,” Holster said.
“Actually, Jack found him,” Ransom said. “Brought him home and put him in Johnson’s room last night.”
Bitty took the pie from the oven and set it on the cooling rack before clearing his throat and saying, “‘Him’ is standing right here.”
“Sorry,” the new guy saud. “Shitty Knight at your service.”
“Shitty?”
“Long story,” Shitty said. “How do you know Jackabelle?”
“I don’t,” Bitty said. “I just stopped into the coffee shop, and he realized I was stranded and took pity on me.”
“That — kind of sounds like something Jack would do,” Shitty said.
“Anyway, I made the muffins and the pie to thank him, and all of you, for your hospitality,” Bitty said. “My name is Eric, but call me Bitty.”
“I guess I can see how you got that nickname,” Shitty said, standing up to pour his own coffee.
“I’m not that small,” Bitty protested. “It’s a hockey nickname, ‘cause my last name’s Bittle.”
“Right,” Shitty said.
“Wait, dude, you play hockey?” Holster said. “We played in college.That’s how we all met.”
“Used to play,” Bitty said. Because that was in high school, back in Georgia.
“What do you do now? Besides turning out wicked muffins?” Shitty said. “Where did you even find blueberries? Did you go to the store?”
“Did you remember the part where he was stranded?” Ransom said. “How would he get to the store?”
“That’s right,” Shitty said, and helped himself to another muffin. “Holy fuck, these are good. So what’s your plan?”
“Um, maybe someone could direct me to the train station?” Bitty said. “I walked from there last night, to Jack’s coffee shop, but he drove me here, and I don’t quite know how to get back.”
“Dude, you’re not gonna walk there,” Holster said, eyeing Bitty’s sneakers. “It’s too far. And the snow’s like a foot deep. Streets are mostly plowed, but it’s messy.’’
“Maybe you could tell me how to get to the coffee shop then?” Bitty asked. “I did want to leave that pie for Jack and if I leave it here …”
“Yeah, no,” Holster said. “It’ll definitely disappear. How’d you make it so fast anyway? I thought pies were, like, hard.”
“Not really,” Bitty said. “And sometimes when I’m in a kitchen, pies just appear.”
“Cool superpower, brah,” Shitty said. “But you don’t want to carry that pie all the way to the shop. I can drive you in a little bit. I was headed that way anyway.”
Ransom and Holster left, off to do whatever kind of work it was they did (consulting, they said, but what did that mean?). Shitty disappeared upstairs, presumably to put some clothes on, and Bitty cleaned up the kitchen. And made two batches of cookies: chocolate chip and ginger snaps.
He made sure to hide the cookies and the leftover muffins under clean dish towels on the counter, in hopes they would be discovered later, when he was gone. Shitty had already been looking at him like there was something strange going on, and he had no wish to explain his magic.
Well, really, he had no ability to explain it, either. It started when he was small. When he was just a tyke he could produce pies and cookies and cakes better than bakers ten times his age. Back when he was five, he didn’t question that there were always chocolate chips in the cupboard when he needed them, always eggs and butter in the fridge, and the flour canister was never empty.
It had been going on for a matter of months when MooMaw noticed there was something more than unusual baking talent there. She pulled him aside and said she was the very same way, and he must never tell anyone. Not even his parents. Apparently, the magic skipped a generation.
Over the years, she told him what she had learned. She was always able to bake good food, but some of the magic only seemed to kick in if she was baking for other people.
“If I wanted to make a cupcake, just for me, and I needed some almond extract, do you think I’d find it in my cabinet?” she said. “Never. But if I was baking a whole batch of cupcakes for your class at school, it would be there, sure as there’s a nose on my face.”
“But MooMaw,” he’d asked. “Why would you ever bake just one cupcake?”
Over the years, he’d found that he couldn’t always get exactly what he wanted. There were no in-season strawberries in December, no matter how much he needed them. Some recipes seemed to work better than others when he needed to put his magic to use, and they were usually the ones he copied by hand from MooMaw’s book. But his cakes and pies and cookies seemed to bake faster than most people’s no matter what recipe he used, and once baked, they wouldn’t run out during a meal or a party, not as long as he kept watch and willed the serving basket or plate to stay full.
No matter how harmless his magic seemed, he knew MooMaw was right. People didn’t like somebody who was different, and he was already different enough. Mama and Coach hadn’t kicked him out, precisely, when he explained that the kids who tormented him for being gay weren’t exactly wrong, but his relationship with them had grown strained overnight.
Best to find somewhere where he could be himself, by himself, and bake for people who didn’t know who he was or question why it tasted so good. It was already far too late for that here. He would take Jack his pie and be on his way.
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ONE SHOTS:
SPN Angst Bingo ‘18 Masterlist Dean Headcanons/Bullet point Fics
Newest on top; updated 2/2/2021
Untitled (literally couldn’t think of a title for this lol): PG-13 for swearing She came out of nowhere, knocked him on his ass, and then asked him to apologize. How hard did he hit his head?
Body Language: PG-13 Low blood sugar sucks. Dean’s POV.
Everybody Knows I’m Torn Apart: PG-13 You manage to call Dean a few miles away from the bunker. Despite your injuries, you tell him the basics: you lost too much blood, you need a ride, you’re pretty sure you’re going to pass out soon. His gruff voice over the phone is the last thing you hear before you physically can’t keep your eyes open anymore.
Two Hearts on Fire: PG-13 3 times Dean is there for you and one time you’re able to return the favor.
Stay a Little Longer: PG You let yourself be vulnerable and Dean does too.
You’re an Ocean: PG The never ending push and pull between you and Dean finally comes to an end.
Take My Hand (When You Can’t See the Light): PG-13 (a few swears) Dean plays the knight in shining armor when you meet him by chance. Turns out you’ll meet him several more times. Everything happens for a reason, right?
Winter Air: PG Contrary to popular belief, Dean is a big softy who loves winter.
Slow Days: PG Dean meets you on a slow, lazy day in Lebanon at Christmas.
Come Home: PG Dean comes to your door in the middle of the night. it’s a good thing, too, because you’re gearing up for a fight.
Don’t Go Changing: PG-13 It was never supposed to end up like this. You find out the truth about Dean Winchester.
Dog Days: PG-13 (for violence) Dean rescues a dog and ends up being the one rescued.
Helping Hand: PG After recovering from an injury, you’re having a hard time getting back into fighting form. Dean helps you through it.
Sun Warmed: PG He sits on the edge of the table, watching you as you flit about the room, grabbing a mug, some coffee creamer, and sugar. You wait for him to make a comment about how sweet you like your coffee, but it never comes. Another sign that he’s not entirely himself today.
Untitled drabble: PG Someone is carrying you. Your head jostles until it finds purchase against a broad shoulder, and in your daze you can make out a conversation - though you’re not able to make sense of anything being said.Someone is urging you to open your eyes, You want to do what they ask, you want to ask questions, but you’re so tired.
I’ll Be Your Lifeline Tonight: PG Dean shoulders his own burdens. He always has. And truth be told, it comforted you to think he had it under control. Dean’s always been the one with the plan, the one who knew what to do next. Now that he doesn’t… you can’t lie, it freaks you out. But you have to help him right now. If the tables were turned, he’d do the same for you.
Untitled: PG You stop mid-sentence as you come around the corner into the rec room, seeing him fast asleep on the sofa. There’s a magazine on his lap and a few other books strewn around him, and while this isn’t really that out of the ordinary for him, it’s the glasses tucked into his collar that draw your attention.
It Echoes a Spark: PG-13 “I was on my way home. Traveling. Saw I was driving through town and thought… well, it’s almost our anniversary.” He winks, and it’s amazing how you’re not a puddle of goo right there on the floor.
Wrapped Up in Your Love: Rated PG @sixtysevenandwhiskey asked for: “i did that annoying thing where i put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and i can’t wait to see your face”
Snow & Scarves: Rated PG @lipstickandwhiskey said “I gotta see you do “PULLING YOU IN FOR A KISS WITH A SCARF” because SWOON” and I mean, same, tbh.
Stay Here Til Sunrise: Rated T “You’re making a mental checklist of everything you need to do when you finally stop somewhere - the first thing being calling Sam to let him know his brother got his arm broken trying to be a goddamn hero again, followed closely by getting to a bathroom where Dean can’t see you as you try to calm the fuck down.”
Bruised Hearts: Rated T She sort of, kind of, probably hates him. He tells himself it’s for the best.
Just Let Me Try: Rated T You get in a car accident not far from Dean’s shop and go to him for help. Mechanic!AU. Dean’s POV.
On Your Mark, Get Set, Bake: PG Dean discovers your guilty pleasure TV show.
I Remember Loving You: PG-13 When you think you’re in trouble, you go to Sam and Dean for help, despite the fact that you and Dean haven’t spoken or seen each other face to face in months.
Bright Lights Won’t Leave Me Alone: PG-13 Prompt: “We got involved in a fight at a bar and had to share the night in the same jail cell”
If It Keeps You By My Side: PG-13 The reader reveals something to Dean that turns his world upside down. Written for Annie’s 300 Follower Grand Budapest Motel Challenge!
One More Hour: PG Dean’s tired and can’t hide it from you no matter how hard he tries.
Danger Always Was a Friend of Mine: PG-13 You get stuck driving through a huge storm on your way to the bunker. Dean reacts in a way you don’t expect.
Run, Run, Run Away: PG-13 Dean calls you to go on a hunt he’d otherwise have to take solo. It takes quite a turn.
Lost Hope, Can’t Cope: PG-13 Dean helps you when your anxiety, stress, and everything else jumbled up in your head becomes too much. Alternates between the reader and Dean’s POV.
One Way to Shut You Up: PG A good, old-fashioned post-hunt celebration gives you the courage you finally need.
Now Close Your Eyes: PG You have a hard time letting other people take care of you.
Something About You, I Just Can’t Fight: Rated M You’re pretty sure Dean’s figured out your big, stupid crush on him, and you’re sure it’s only a matter of time before you spontaneously combust.
Loving Everything You Do: Rated T The washer broke. It’s not your fault that the only thing near you at the time was some of Dean’s clothes, okay.
Heavy Heart and a Heavy Mind: Rated T A badly-timed wish on your part and a curse from a witch has you and Dean reconsidering the nature of your relationship. Written for SPN Angst Bingo.
Let the Lonely In: Rated T After a bad day and a sleepless night, the reader and her insecurities are her own worst enemy.
Someone Throw a Lifeline: Rated T While wrapping up a case, Sam and Dean get a weird phone call that has Dean assuming the worst.
Everything You Are: PG Dean’s POV. Dean discovers the pretty librarian he met on a case is a little more “in the know” than he realized.
You’ve Had Me All Along: Rated M You’re so pissed that you’re even in this situation, your hands are shaking from adrenaline and anger. Huffing to yourself, you grab your phone out of your back pocket and dial one of two numbers you know by heart.
More Heart and Less Attack: Rated T The reader shows up at the bunker after being attacked, hurt and on the verge of a panic attack.
One More Time Before I Fall: Rated T This weird tension between you and Dean had to come to a head sometime, and what better time than when you’re trapped in the Impala with him for a long trip?
Untitled drabble: Rated T Dean has to bail you out of jail during a hunt, and isn’t happy about it when he sees you again.
Untitled drabble: Rated T One ghost down, five to go. You’re on your way to rescue the Winchesters.
Untitled oneshot: Rated PG Prompt: “I have been driving for the last 5 hours and all I want is some god damn beef jerky, so GET YOUR HAND OFF THE LAST PACKAGE ON THE SHELF YOU MAY BE HANDSOME STRANGER, BUT NO ONE IS STANDING IN BETWEEN ME AND THAT SALTY SNACK”
Breaks Your Heart Like Lovers Do: Rated PG Anon asked for a angsty fic based on “Happier” by Ed Sheeran. Don’t worry - there’s a happy ending!
Untitled Angst Day drabble: Rated T You’ve been hiding your feelings towards Dean for months, and when you guys have the biggest fight you can ever remember having, you reach a breaking point.
Seeing Eye to Eye and Heart to Heart: Rated T You get hurt on a hunt, and afterwards, Dean starts acting real weird.
Can’t Get You Close Enough: Rated M Dean tears into you after a hunt goes bad, causing you to have a panic attack. He makes a confession to your after, about why seeing you hurt makes him react that way.
I’ll Be Back, Give It Time: Rated M While you’re struggling with your feelings for Dean, you have your first fight.
Untitled drabble: Rated PG. You and Dean have this thing going on. You tease him, he teases you. You don’t expect it to lead to hurt feelings until it does.
Glasses: Rated M. Dean wears those glasses. You have feels.
Lately: Rated M (Dean POV, third person) Dean reflects on his feelings for the reader.
Now And Then I Get A Little Lost: Rated M (mild smut) Established relationship with Dean x Reader. The two of you run into Cassie on a hunt, and seeing Dean’s ex brings up some insecurities.
Got The Flu: Rated M Dean takes care of you when you’re sick, and confessions come in dramatic fashion. You know the drill.
Enough For Now: Rated M (mild smut, language) You haven’t seen Dean in over a year, and the scruff he’s sporting now is doing things to you.
Valentine’s Day oneshot: Rated M. Pure smut. Dean wears that coat. You know the one.
Don’t You Forget About Me: Rated M. Post 12x11. You help Sam figure out how to get rid of Dean’s curse. He doesn’t remember you, but he remembers something.
Untitled oneshot: Rated M (barely any smut, rated for language + dirty talk) The gang have a hunt at the zoo. What could go wrong?
Best Friends?: Rated M Prompt: “We’re best friends and I’ve been in love with you forever and I’m 30000% sure you only see me as a friend, except why is there all this tension rn?
Family Ties: Rated M (mild smut) You didn’t know your stepmom was a witch, okay. It’s not your fault you’ve got a coven on your tail. It’s also not your fault that Dean Winchester hates witches so much.
Untitled drabble: Rated M. Prompt was “comfort” - Dean comforts the reader after a hunt goes wrong and causes her to have nightmares.
Sooner Or Later: Rated M. Prompt was “touch”. Tension relief.
It’s So Clear Now: Rated M. You run into the Winchesters after a few months hunting alone, and when you get hurt, Dean takes care of you. This is a long one - 5K.
You Look Good in My Shirt: Rated M. You borrow Dean’s sweater and it causes him to finally make a move.
You’re A Sight For Sore Eyes: Rated PG. Based on a prompt. Dean helps you sleep when you’re dealing with some anxiety.
The More I’m Gone, The More Things Change: Rated T. You go with the Winchesters to LA to hopefully help them ice Lucifer.
They Call It The Season Of Giving (I’m Here, Yours For The Taking): Rated PG You get a little emotional exchanging Christmas gifts with Dean.
It’s The Same For Me: Rated T. You mess up on a hunt and Dean calls you out for it. Resentful of being treated like a kid, you lash out.
Missing You: Rated T. You and Dean are alone in the bunker for a night when you surprise him with a visit. He’s missed you.
Untitled drabble: Rated T. Dean is so protective of you, it makes you crazy. You fight, and then make out.
Don’t Look Back: Rated T, sequel to “Ain’t Afraid Of No Ghosts”. Dean shows up unannounced to make sure you’re safe as he and Sam investigate some demon signs near your home.
Rescue Drabble: Rated T Sam and Dean rescue you after a close call while hunting, and afterwards, Dean’s guilt leads to a confession.
Happy To See Me?: Rated M (light smut in this one). Imagine seeing Dean for the first time in months, and him not being able to hide how happy he is to see you.
Ain’t Afraid Of No Ghosts: Rated M. You’re not happy when the Winchester brothers show up to steal your hunt, no matter how cute you think the older one is.
PROMPT FICS:
Dean + “dance with me” / “I’ve always loved you”
Dean + “Can you walk?”
Platonic Dean + Lisa being jealous
Dean + “I’d sooner die than deny my feelings for you”
Dean + “You look terrible”
Dean + “No, wait, please. Can’t we talk?”
Dean + “I belong with you”
Dean + chocolate
Dean + fear
Dean + nicknames
Dean + morning routine
Dean + playing with hair
Dean+ fireplace
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How I Get Thru Ottawa Winters
1. Expect a 6-month experience.
It is not uncommon for Ottawa to have snow and cold between November and April. This way my hopes are not dashed when the weather gets colder again after the January thaw.
2. Dress according to the weather. Pay no attention to the calendar.
Spring fever is a term that I use to describe the hope I feel when the number of daylight hours increases. It’s wonderful, but no matter how great the temptation is to start wearing fewer clothes as spring fever hits, I resist. I look at the actual temperature and dress accordingly. I try to take glory in the bundling. I wear a lot of red in winter because red makes me feel happy, intense and fiery.
3. Notice what makes winter beautiful.
The other day when we had the big storm with the massive snowflakes, I was at home and cozy. It was so quiet. I felt safe and comfortable. It was windy otherwise I would have gone out and bundled up, enjoying the silence and the feeling of being wrapped up and alone in the quiet.
The angle of the light changes from the harsh white of early winter to the soft yellow of the oncoming spring. I live on the 19th floor with a southern exposure so the change in colour, intensity and angle of the sun really affects me. On January mornings, I have to close the curtains to avoid having the sun in my eyes.
I love the way frost paints flowers on the windows and ice hangs from trees and rooftops like jewels in the sun.
4. Do not compare Ottawa winters to winters elsewhere. I love the photos of flowers I see on BC folks’ social media accounts, but it is easy to be envious, to experience a bitter disappointment that our magnolias will not start to bloom until May and if we’re lucky we might have a paltry crocus or daffodil in April. This just makes those croci and daffis ever sweeter to me when they come. Our blooms are defiant af. Be like the blooms. Be a feisty tulip.
5. Give money to the folks on the street. At this time of year, I give extra. I chat with homeless people and I bring whatever toonies and loonies (sometimes $5) as I can with me, putting the money in a change purse in my winter coat so I can easily give. I also usually donate to Cornerstone Housing for Women, a charity that provides emergency housing to women in need in the downtown core. There’s also the Ottawa Foodbank or other charities for donations of money and items that help. I have found that the more I give to others, the better I feel, the less lonely and blue I feel.
6. Get Moving
This year I joined a fitness program at Carleton University for 55+ folk (Senior Ravens), and it’s made a great difference. I am outside at least three times a week, whereas in the past I had a tendency to cocoon too much, which not only makes my body sore, but also makes me blue.
One of the classes is aquafit. It is great fun to dance around in the pool with fellow aquafit participants to the music.
I am writing a manuscript with the working title of “Motion and Light” about the Senior Raven experience.
7. Get Social
This one is harder for me. My instinct in winter is hibernation and isolation. The gym has helped. Three days a week I interact with fellow fitness participants. After my Monday class I hang out with a few of the regulars. We have coffee and chat. It’s lovely.
I am not a night person at all and these days I am exhausted in the evenings. I used to attend a lot of literary events but it’s harder for me to do so these days because of this exhaustion. Literary events have always been my go to for society. I still seek out my literary pals but more on social media these days.
8. Make Plans for Spring
I have verified that Carleton’s Senior Ravens program will continue in the spring, and I plan to continue taking the fitness classes.
Once the spring arrives, I plan to walk from Carleton to the Fletcher Wildlife Garden, a 20-minute walk from Carleton U.
I imagine myself walking outside with headphones and a fanny pack. I have even purchased the fanny pack. It is peony petal pink. (not the fuchsia, but a pale shade).
9. Glory in the Cocoonery
I bake cookies, read good books, watch films, take long naps buried under the covers (or outside of them during a hot flash). I make playlists of music to help me through. Songs like Could Be So Happy by the Heartless Bastards bring me great joy (“gonna keep on going, I don’t want to stand still. … oh I’m longing to be…out in the sweet unknown”) The xmas holidaze often result in a slow down and a quieting. I take advantage of the slowness to reflect, to write, to create and to rest.
10. Remember that winter ends.
Sending love and solidarity to those for whom winter is hard on the body and the psyche. I know it feels like fucking forever, but winter will end…eventually.
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A/N: Request from two anons. Expect another Imagine today. In fact, expect a lot of Christmassy Imagines until Christmas. I received so many amazing prompts! I altered this one a little because it was Loki’s birthday yesterday. And we ought to celebrate our king, no?
Words: 1974 Warnings: this is slightly sad?
Christmas… the merriest and most joyful time of the year. You snorted. Yeah, sure, Christmas was great if you were surrounded by family and friends, baked cookies together and watched cheesy Christmas movies, not to mention all the presents everyone secretly got for each other only to say “Oh, you didn’t have to!” on Christmas Day.
But the thing was… you had none of those things. No family or friends to celebrate with, no oven to bake cookies in, no TV to watch Christmas movies and certainly no money to buy presents. If anything, witnesses would get paid for handing you over to the police—life as a war criminal was hardly enjoyable for the most part. But what other choice had you had? They had threatened to kill you, slowly and mercilessly until you begged for death if you didn’t comply. And you were too young to die. There were so many countries yet to be explored, so many books yet to be read and… you were yet to fall in love. So you had obeyed, done everything they had asked you to—including havoc, destruction and murder. Now, you paid the price for your so-called self-preservation, for the urge to stay alive.
Guarded by none other than the Avengers themselves, you were going to spend the next few months among SHIELD agents and other would-be superheroes, damned to watch them get into the Christmas spirit and preparing gifts for one another, constantly eliciting your gag reflex.
There was only one other person in the compound who appeared to be an outsider too. An Asgardian, just like Thor, with raven hair, stinging blue eyes and a dangerously fascinating aura which drew you to him like bees round a honeypot. You had heard of him, of course. About the incident in New York and for some inexplicable reason, you did not believe he would stand by his terrible deeds whole-heartedly. No. Loki looked like he suffered—much like yourself.
Several times already you had attempted to talk to the God of Mischief but been stopped by Tony or one of the other Avengers. Stay away from him, they had said. It’s for your own good, trust me. But then again… they were probably afraid you’d team up and try to escape together. Truth be told, you were sure that you would be invincible. Your own powers were by far not as impressive as Loki’s magic and illusions but it had saved you from trouble and hazard throughout your entire life already.
It was the 17th of December when you woke up in your cell-like room and opened the curtains to let in some light and fresh air only to be greeted by a thick blanket of white snow covering the ground outside the compound. You almost squealed. Last time you had seen snow, you had still lived with your parents as a teenager and met your friends to go sleighing. The memories dwelling up were sad but at the very same time so hopeful that maybe, just maybe it could be like this again one day—merry, joyful, and happy.
You didn’t know what came over you when you got dressed and snatched your black winter jack from your wardrobe, rushing through the compound and into Tony’s lap. As you had expected, he was working, a steaming cup of coffee right next to him.
Crossing your arms, you leaned against the threshold and, with your head tilted, watched him for a while.
“What do you want?” He sneered eventually. Sighing, you cleared your throat.
“I was wondering if I could go outside for a bit. I haven’t seen snow in years.”
Tony looked up. You could tell he was considering your request. He lifted an eyebrow and studied you as if to discover any hidden motives. When he didn’t find any, he shrugged.
“Okay, if you wanna freeze to death, that’s fine by me. But you wear the ankle monitor.”
Rolling your eyes in response, you wrapped yourself in your winter jacket and nodded mockingly.
“Of course. I wouldn’t want to try and escape through several feet of snow, I would be way too fast to be caught.”
You scoffed when he tightened the make-shift tether around your ankle, resisting the urge to kick him in the face when he did. Once he was done and promised that FRIDAY would keep an eye on you, you turned on your heel and left the lab again only to collide with something hard.
Blinking, you glanced up, locking eyes with Loki who today seemed particularly depressed.
“Oh. Hi. Sorry.”
“You seem in a hurry,” he replied disinterested.
“Yeah… I’m heading outside. Care to join me?” Now you weren’t exactly hopeful he was going to say yes but in truth, having someone with you and not be alone for once might be a nice experience—especially out in the snow. Loki almost made you flinch when he replied.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like snow.”
“How can you not like snow?”
“In fact, I hate it.”
“Come on, Loki. Were you going to meet someone else? Besides, we’re snowed in, it’s not like you’re going somewhere?” Defiantly, you raised your eyebrows, mutely expressing your opinion on how well you both got along with the infamous Avengers. Honestly, you were pretty sure none of them cared whether you lived or died. Unfortunately for them, your will to survive was very strong.
“Scared of the cold?” You added teasingly. Loki glanced outside through one of the massive windows in the hallway. The sky was still grey but at least, it had stopped snowing. Technically, you were right. He was not going to meet someone else and here you were, a silly little mortal and fellow prisoner asking to spend time with him. He was so taken aback by the fact someone would willingly ask him to do something together he actually thought about joining you. He wouldn’t have to touch the snow, after all.
“Not at all, little minx. Unlike you, I don’t even need a warm winter coat.”
So here you were now, walking in the snow with the God of Mischief himself. It was… nice. The tension between you was hardly uncomfortable, if anything because you both shared a past that had left scars on your hearts.
Shivering a little, you buried your ice cold hands in your pockets to keep them warm. Loki had not lied to you. He was strolling next to you seemingly unaffected by the freezing temperatures.
“So… Thor is your brother, right?”
The God of Mischief sighed. “Yes. He is my brother.”
“You don’t get along very well…” You continued, attempting to make some kind of conversation with him. You desperately wanted to get to know him better, learn what was going on in that mischievous mind and broken heart of his.
Loki’s mocking expression set your teeth on edge.
“How did you guess, I wonder?”
“I’m sorry, I just… I’m trying to figure you out, I guess. There is something about you that I like but I don’t know what it is yet. So I’m trying to find out.” You confessed, shrugging in the process. You had nothing to lose, after all. No family, no friends, no reputation. If you didn’t try, you’d never know.
Loki himself did not know why he opened his mouth to respond. Perhaps it was because of the same reason you were so deeply fascinated by him. You were different. Different from those self-proclaimed superheroes intending to make the world a better place. Selfishness and self-preservation were not always bad things… not really.
“Thor has always been the favoured son. We drifted apart a long time ago. New York… changed it all. I would not expect him to stand up for me again, to care. Especially not today.”
“That’s… horrible, I’m sorry. But… at least you still have family. Who knows, maybe you can put your differences aside one day.”
Loki shook his head.
“Oh no… this ship has sailed the day I learned…” He stopped himself. “It is unlikely. Especially after today.” He repeated, his blue gaze drifting away sadly.
“What’s so special about the 17th of December anyway then?”
Loki smirked bitterly. “My birthday. It is my birthday.”
You had never known what it felt like to suffer from a broken heart. But the pain that went through your chest upon his words had you distort your face uncomfortably.
“He… he didn’t even remember?” You choked out.
“No. He did not.”
Silence spread between you. It wasn’t unpleasant though—much rather a mute and mutual understanding. Compassion.
“You know, maybe we should spend Christmas together. We’ll stead food from the kitchen and hide in the library all night long.” You suggested, shyly smiling up at him.
Loki frowned. For a brief moment, it seemed like he was disgusted by the idea. Spending Christmas Eve with a mortal, wasn’t that… below him? On the other hand… would you really be willing to spend time with him when no one else in the compound, not even his own brother who had forgotten his birthday, would?
“Yes. Maybe we should.” Your smile grew, even more so when you noticed a few lonely snowflakes fluttering to the already white ground.
“Let us head back inside.”
“What? No! It’s starting to snow again!”
“Exactly.”
“Loki, you’re not made of sugar, a few snowflakes won’t kill you.” You replied giggling. Loki’s nostrils flared as he breathed in heavily, glaring you down strictly.
Only when the first frozen drops of water landed on his raven hair and flawless skin did you realise why he was so keen on escaping the snow. He was turning blue, his eyes… his eyes changing colour to a bright red.
“What in the… Loki, are you alright?”
The God of Mischief rolled his eyes, gnashing his teeth in the process.
“Yes. I am alright. Now let us head back inside. I will not hesitate to leave you out here on your own if you refuse.”
That stung. Lips parting, you looked up at him hurt.
“Don’t be like that…” You mumbled quietly.
You had read about Frost Giants, Jötuns. Loki was… one of them? How was this possible? Was he Thor’s brother after all?
Loki closed his eyes briefly in response. He didn’t mean to snap at you like that but he also didn’t wish to scare you away with the fact he was a monster. He had, by chance, met this one person whom he felt like he could bear being around, he was not going to lose you to his repulsive self; and yet, an apology would not leave his thin lips.
“I’m so sorry.” He suddenly heard you whisper. “I wouldn’t have tried to persuade you to come outside with me if I had known…”
Loki narrowed his stunning blue eyes at you.
“You are sorry?”
“Y-yes? I mean… you don’t want anyone to see? Is… is that why you hate snow?”
He nodded grimly.
“You should see Jötunheim. It is not among the happiest of places within Yggdrasil’s branches.”
“But this is not Jötunheim. This is the suburbs of New York City in winter and unlike Frost Giants, we celebrate Christmas. Snow can be beautiful. Just think about the possibilities! You can build snowmen and go sleighing for hours without ever getting cold!” You attempted to cheer him up. For a while, Loki said nothing.
“It is hard to believe you are a prisoner here.” He then suddenly stated bluntly.
Smiling sadly, you shrugged.
“I did what I had to do to survive… and I think you did, too.”
He nodded, finally making his way back inside.
“Oh… and Loki?”
He turned around again half-heartedly, curious as to what else you had to say.
“Happy Birthday.”
This time, his smirk was genuine.
A/N: Guys, YOU can help me publish my first novel! It’s easy, it’s anonymous, you can do it from all over the world and it’s just 3€! Your help counts too, I’d appreciate it so much if you helped me fulfil my dream! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente
#loki#loki imagine#loki x you#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson imagine#loki laufeyson x you#loki laufeyson x reader#loki odinson#loki odinson imagine#loki odinson x you#loki odinson x reader#the avengers#the avengers imagine#thor#thor imagine#marvel#marvel imagine#mcu#mcu imagine#tom hiddleston
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snowday
⋈ pairing: ot7 x reader ⋈ word count: 4,126 ⋈ genre: fluff ⋈ notes: seven short drabbles for a snowy day ♥
The snow crunches under your shoes in protest as you step from one foot to the other, your arms firmly wrapped around your own body in a futile attempt to stay warm in the below freezing weather. The day was cold; the night is harsh. The wind bites at your face, the frosty air makes it hard to breathe. Your toes are numb, the skin of your legs prickling under the icy touch of winter.
You wonder who decided to meet up outside of Hongdae station near the H&M.
And why Hyunwoo had agreed.
You see him round a corner and his eyes fall onto you immediately. You grit your teeth and press your lips together, not so much to keep yourself from scolding him for this stupid decision but because it is the only set of muscles in your body that wasn’t engaged in a battle to keep you warm before. Evidently, they are now ready to join the war.
Hyunwoo’s steps speed up and he is in front of you within seconds. His expression doesn’t change much, but you know him well enough to recognize the hint of worry and guilt in his eyes.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says even though he has arrived less than three minutes after the agreed upon time. You were simply early.
“You’re not,” you reassure him and allow him to touch his gloved fingers to your bare face. The cotton is a little itchy on your face but you can feel his body heat even through the thick fabric.
“Babe, you’re frozen solid.” Hyunwoo looks around. “Has nobody else arrived yet?”
“Nope,” you confirm the obvious.
Hyunwoo nods, his face a little gloomier than just seconds before. Without a word he unzips his long, padded coat and takes one step forward to envelop you in his jacket, his embrace, his affection. His arms pull you close to his chest and he rests his chin on top of your head. His hoodie is soft and warm and smells so, so good. You relax immediately, closing your eyes as your frozen body is melting into his. Hyunwoo’s voice reverberates through his chest and right into your heart.
“We’re going to wait five more minutes,” he announces, his lips pressed to your hair. “Then I’m taking my girl somewhere warm.”
“That’s okay,” you mumble against him. “It doesn’t get much warmer than this.”
You feel like a soccer mom at the sidelines of the field as you watch Hoseok frolicking about the small expanse that was the parking lot of your apartment building only twelve hours ago. Now it is nothing but a magical plain of fresh, untouched snow – untouched except for Hoseok’s footsteps and an indented trail left in his wake. He giggles as he pushes the slowly growing ball of snow across the ground until it has the desired size. Finally, he stops and turns to look at you expectantly.
“How does it look?” he asks, out of breath but fully in the moment.
“It looks great, babe,” you say, and you mean it. The ball is almost perfectly round and looks fairly solid. The sun is shining on you and Hoseok and the first snow of the year, and a comfortable warmth spreads inside you.
You have seen many a winter wonderland with Hoseok, but every year feels like the first time all over again. His excitement, his smile, the way his eyes sparkle like they’re specked with a million snow crystals. How he insists on building a snowman together with you, because it’s a tradition and he loves creating traditions with you. All of it feels like you are newly, freshly in love, like soft powder snow that blankets the earth for the very first time.
But unlike the snow, your love for him never melts away.
“Can you come help me put the head on him?”
“Sure!” You trudge through the snow over to where Hoseok is already sitting next to the last round piece to complete this year’s snowman. You bend down across from him and together you carefully lift the ball and set it on the snow body Hoseok has already erected. You secure the head with some additional snow you cram into the space where it meets the snowman’s shoulders. Then Hoseok takes a step back and nods, satisfied with the result.
“Alright,” he says and starts on another snowball. You tilt your head, following him hesitantly.
“Hoseok, what are you doing?”
He stands up straight and smiles, beams at you before planting an icy kiss to your lips. A deep blush creeps onto his already flushed cheeks.
“I’m making him a snow wife.”
“Okay,” you chuckle and decide to help him, forming a little snow ball of your own and starting to roll it across the snow blanket. You can feel Hoseok watching you from time to time until he abandons his endeavor once again and clears his throat.
“By the way,” he says, his voice a little shaky. “Are your nails done?”
It is barely light outside and you can already tell that today is one of those days when it will stay this way; gray, dim, and gloomy until night will creep in. Usually this doesn’t affect you much, but you can’t help but feel a little gray, dim, and gloomy yourself as you trot along the snow-covered streets of your neighborhood. It’s still fairly early, a little past nine, but you decided to get some errands out of the way before you go about your day. You need to stop at the bank and buy some groceries and other essentials, and you’re hoping to accomplish this in less than two hours so you can devote yourself to all the tasks waiting for you at home.
It’s going to be a busy day.
You’re mentally trying to come up with a list; organize all the things you want to accomplish today in a logical order with realistic time frames, when something hits you in the face, cold and hard and painful. You gasp before you start wiping at your face, shocked eyes looking around to assess the situation. Two boys stand giggling not too far from you, their hands already forming more snowballs to attack strangers with. You gape at them in disbelief. They’re young, teenagers probably, but definitely old enough to realize they are being dicks. You are frozen in place, torn between exploding in their faces like the snowball had in yours and swallowing your anger.
“Want some more, lady?” one of the boys taunts and you feel your face flush with anger.
The next thing you know, a snowball hits the same boy in the side of the face, hard enough to make him stumble half a step to the left before shaking his head in an almost comical way to gather his bearings. He turns to look at the culprit; a tall, slim figure, with the bright smile of a boy but the confident demeanor of a man.
“What the hell, dude?” the younger one snaps, but the other only smiles even wider. If you didn’t know the context of the situation, you could absolutely be fooled by the innocence and playfulness of his expression.
“What?” he counters, walking over slowly to stand between you and your sneaky assailant. “I thought we were all playing?”
The young boy stares at him for a short moment, taking in his squared shoulders and the faint aggressiveness in his tone; it’s barely there, but still enough to make both of the kids bail.
“Are you okay?” With two steps, the boy is in front of you, searching your face for any ailments, both on the outside and the inside.
You are still processing everything that happened in the last minute but manage to say: “Yes. Thank you.”
“You, uh-“ He lifts his hand but stops right at your hairline. The fake, challenging smile has made way for a kind grin and soft, brown eyes. “You have something in your hair. May I?”
He waits for you to nod before he gently starts picking remnants of snow and ice out of your hair. Your eyes meet his, and the way he looks at you feels like a ray of light, a warm caress on this dark, cold winter’s day.
“Better,” he finally decides and gives your head a final, playful pat.
“Thank you-“
“Lee Minhyuk.”
“Thank you, Lee Minhyuk.”
“You’re very welcome,” he replies with a mischievous smirk and a lighthearted wink. “But if you’d like, you could buy me a cup of coffee. Right now. If you have time.”
You give a bright, surprised laugh which seems to please Minhyuk. You readjust the strap of your purse for no particular reason.
“Sure, that sounds good,” you agree and start walking so you won’t say the words you heart is screaming at the top of its lungs, as if it has a premonition; a suspicion that this is the only important thing you were meant to do today.
For you, Lee Minhyuk, I have all the time in the world.
The snow came suddenly.
You were just out and about in the city, having escaped the cold by dipping into a department store where you killed time window shopping and flipping through books you weren’t going to buy. You spent some time in a café, resisting the temptation of the various cakes and other baked goods – after all, you had a date that evening.
At least you thought you did until you step out of the department store and find the world covered in white. A quick glance at your phone tells you that your date is supposed to begin in thirty minutes. It also tells you that he has not texted you to tell you otherwise. But this is crazy – the ground is hidden beneath a thick layer of snow, the streets look wet and slippery, cars creeping along in fear of the slushy mess freezing over and creating an icy death trap.
You sigh and unlock your phone.
There is so much snow! Can you still make it?
After hitting the send button, you start walking. The restaurant is only a ten-minute walk from your current location and although the temperatures are positively frigid, you decide to just – go. If he responds saying he can’t make it, you can still find the nearest subway station and go home. But the truth is, you are really looking forward to this date. It’s the third one and things, as far as you can tell, are going really well. You’re both considerably busy, but, as if you had an unspoken agreement, you had kept the entire day open the last two times you met, allowing yourselves to spend a lot of time together and get to know each other. Deep and personal conversation was interwoven with resounding laughter and silly nothingness; your heart still flutters at the memory of every minute spent with him.
He doesn’t seem like the type to ditch you just because things got a little inconvenient – but then again, none of the people in your life who ended up doing exactly that had.
When you get to the restaurant you contemplate going inside and asking for your table; you know he’s made a reservation. But something holds you back, maybe it’s a gut feeling, maybe it’s experience, maybe it’s your own insecurities. Maybe it’s all three of those teaming up to make your feet feel leaden and your body shiver with dread. You reach for your phone.
He hasn’t texted.
By the time he’s supposed to be there, you’re cold. Five minutes later, you decide to stow away your phone into your purse to stop you from going crazy. Another five minutes later, you’re sad. Another ten minutes later, your teeth are chattering.
Another five minutes later, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Kihyun turns you around to make you look at him and you damn near sob at the sight of his face, a mix of emotions flashing over his features as he takes in your frozen and pathetic form.
“What in the world are you doing out here,” he says, his voice calm and stern as he continues to scold you. “Why didn’t you wait inside? Are you crazy? It’s so cold you’re gonna catch death.”
“I- I didn’t know if you’d- come.” You look down at your feet and can’t help but feel a little silly until his arms wrap around you and press you tightly to his body.
“I texted you saying I was running late. Didn’t you check your phone?”
“I did for a while,” you mumble into his coat and you can feel him sigh.
“You thought I might stand you up because of a little snow?”
“It’s a lot of snow,” you argue. Kihyun chuckles.
“There is not enough snow in the world,” he whispers and rubs his hands up and down your back. “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since we said goodbye last time.”
“Me, too,” you reply, hiding your smile in the crook of his neck.
“Good. Wanna go inside?”
“Oh god yes please,” you laugh and let Kihyun take you by the hand and drag you toward the entrance. When he gets to the door he pauses for a moment, his hand curled around the handle, and turns around to look at you. He smiles shyly and your heart flutters.
“By the way,” he says and blushes, “I have tomorrow off.”
“It snowed.”
You’re standing at the window, marveling at the soft, white world outside for a few moments before turning back. Hyungwon is lying on his side, his elbow propped up and his head resting in the palm of his hand, watching you. You smile at the way his dark eyes are grazing over your body, not paying the slightest attention to the miracle happening outside your bedroom.
“Mhm.”
“Come, look!”
He shakes his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Come back to bed. It’s cold.”
You roll your eyes at him but comply, the mattress dipping under your weight as you lie down next to him, your head supported by one of the pillows. Hyungwon’s arms snake around your body to move you toward his own, an almost inaudible whisper of closer leaving his lips as he wraps you into a tight hug. His skin is warm, his scent familiar, his arms the most comfortable place you know. You wrap one arm around his waist and sigh against his shoulder. His fingertips dance lazily down your back, over your hips, and back up the side of your body. They spell out all the sensations that make these moments between you so special; intimacy, ease, love, a feeling of belonging that ties you to each other more than words, rules, or rings ever could.
You press your lips to the bare skin of his chest and Hyungwon’s body reacts with fingers softly digging into your arm.
“Are you just going to stay in bed all day?” you whisper, the calm between you too precious to shatter it with sharp, loud words.
“Maybe,” he says. “If you stay here with me.”
“But what if the snow melts away?” you ask, almost childishly. Hyungwon lifts his upper body, causing you to roll onto your back and stare up at him. His white-blond hair falls in soft strands around his face, the white sheets only covering the lower half of his body. The muscles in his arms move idly as he places his forearms on either side of you to hover above you.
“There will be more snow for us to see next year.”
You place on hand on his cheek and grin. “What if we miss that, too?”
Hyungwon smiles softly and bends down to barely kiss your lips. “Then we’ll see it the year after.”
“What if we miss that, too?”
A low chuckle shakes Hyungwon’s chest as he lowers himself onto your body, carefully, and starts kissing and teasing your neck. You hold him close with one arm as the hand of your other arm buries itself into his hair.
“The year after,” he breathes against your skin, sending shivers down your entire body. His left hand finds its way under your shirt to lightly press against your stomach, warm and reassuring. He is kissing along your jawline now and you almost get sad at the thought that this moment will have to end eventually.
“Hyungwon?”
“Hm?” He appears in your field of vision and he looks at you attentively, expectantly, adoringly.
You take his face between your hands and look up at him, your voice barely making it past your lips.
“How long do you want me to stay with you?”
Hyungwon smiles briefly, brushing your hair back to fan it out on the white pillow. This is his miracle, his winter wonderland; being here with you away from the world, away from everyone, untouchable even for time itself.
He kisses you, hot and deep, and you’re sure that not a single winter breeze could ever make it past his warm embrace. His eyes study your face for a second before he answers.
“For as long as snow falls and my heart beats.”
You can tell Jooheon doesn’t like what’s happening.
The weekend away at a ski resort was his idea and yet he is the one making a face like he has half a mind to just blow up the entire mountain. He stops his snowboard next to you at the foot of the slope, one of his boots already unstrapped, and looks around the group of beginners you joined to give him a bit of time to actually tackle some of the more challenging hills. It’s your first time snowboarding and he had patiently accompanied you all morning, so after lunch you sent him off on his own for a bit. But now he’s back, and his eyes are locked on your instructor who just thirty seconds ago had his hands on your hips in a way that even you as a beginner could tell was neither professional nor necessary.
“How’s it going, baby?” Jooheon says loudly, putting a possessive arm around your shoulders. Some of the girls in your group smirk; he is significantly taller than the instructor, and they enjoy how the creep shrinks away from Jooheon even more.
“Not so good,” you mumble and look up at your boyfriend. You were going to try and overcome your social inhibitions for him, but the experiment backfired and now all you want to do is stay by his side, possibly in his arms, for the rest of the day. You feel lucky that not only is Jooheon always looking out for you, whether he is physically present or not, but he has also never, ever made you feel like you need to act strong around him. He loves your weakness, loves your honesty, loves every little way you allow him to be part of your life – and sometimes even be your white knight.
And right now, you just cannot be strong.
“I think we should go,” Jooheon says, his tone icy cold as the winter air. He bends down and helps you free one of your feet so you can skate after him, follow him back to the lift. You get in line, inching forward slowly as the people in front of you get on.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Jooheon asks, holding on to your arm firmly just in case you should lose balance.
“Yeah, it was just a little-“
“Gross,” he finishes the sentence for you, his eyes still burning with the kind of fire of jealousy and rage that could melt all the snow around you. “I hope he doesn’t touch any of those other girls. We should report him later.”
You chuckle when he huffs, his breath fogging up the air. “We should. Thanks for rescuing me, honey.”
“Of course! I’m sorry I left in the first place.”
“I just wanted you to have some fun,” you sigh. Jooheon looks down at you before pulling you closer by the arm he is holding. Without paying his surroundings any mind, he presses a long kiss to your cold lips.
“What are you talking about? I always have the most fun when I’m with you, babe.”
“But you wanted to go snowboarding.”
“I wanted to go somewhere with you!” he clarifies, pulling you away from the people around you, and out of the line. “I just wanted to be alone with you. You know.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows at you. You burst out laughing and put your hands flat against his chest.
“Well we’re not alone here, are we?”
Jooheon’s eyes widen for a second before his expression turns excited, elated, like the weekend has finally begun.
“Hey babe,” he says and grips your waist, pulling you against him. “Did you see we have a hot tub in our room?”
“I did,” you giggle and ignore the woos behind you when Jooheon kisses you again, with a lot more passion and a lot more purpose than before. When he breaks the kiss, his face is flushed, his hands impatiently sliding up and down your sides.
“Babe? I think I’ve had enough snow.”
“If you were a season, you would be winter.”
There’s a short silence on the line before Changkyun’s deep voice fills your ear. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”
“No!” you laugh, the sound echoing from the walls around you. All the houses stand silent in the dark winter night. The alley is empty but you don’t mind. The night has never scared you.
“How am I winter?” Changkyun demands, but you can tell he is just amused, curious to hear your answer. “Is it because I’m so immeasurably cool?”
“Definitely,” you giggle. “But also, you know, winter has an image of being cold and a little rough, but when you look deeper, there are so many warm things about winter.”
Another pause. You can see Changkyun’s face before you, contemplative, surprised, looking for a response that will downplay the emotional nature of your compliment.
“Not in Australia,” his reply finally comes and you smack your lips. You know he’s just messing around, just teasing you. It’s not that he doesn’t like being emotional, but he prefers to be face-to-face with you, to be able to look you straight in the eyes and tell you about all the things he feels, has felt, wishes he could feel.
And he loves hearing what your heart has to say.
“Are you almost here?” he asks. He is waiting for you in his studio; work has been keeping him busy for days now and finally he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take being without you anymore. So he called you at three in the morning, hoping you would pick up, half expecting you wouldn’t. But you did.
You always do.
The truth is, Changkyun doesn’t remind you of winter in general. He reminds you of dark, hazy nights after it has snowed all day, the thick flakes having turned into a light drizzle. He reminds you of foggy streets and muffled sounds; of empty streets and a chill that creeps through your clothes straight into your bones.
Like a cold, wet winter night, Changkyun goes right under your skin.
From the sound of footsteps on a blanket of snow, over the complete and utter silence, to the way it seems like you could lose yourself and find yourself a million times over in the cloudy darkness if you wanted to, Changkyun reminds you of everything that is beautiful and comforting about a murky, magical winter night.
A night like tonight.
“Almost there,” you reply softly.
“Where are you?”
“By the kimbap place,” you say and stop when instead of Changkyun’s voice, you hear footsteps on the snow. A dark figure emerges from the shadow of the storefront and starts walking toward you. You end the call and put away your phone before moving again, meeting Changkyun halfway across the narrow road.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, examining his face. The spray has left tiny droplets of rain on his face but he seems completely unbothered by it. His dark eyes are fixed on yours as he reaches out one hand to rub his thumb over your cheek.
“I missed you,” he says, calmly, earnestly.
“But it’s so cold! I’m half frozen,” you joke and hold onto his wrist, turning your head to press your mouth to his palm. Changkyun smiles at the gesture and leans in to kiss you.
“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “Let winter warm you.”
#monsta x#monsta x drabble#monsta x scenarios#monsta x fanfiction#monsta x imagines#monsta x fanfic#monsta x fluff#hyunwoo#shownu#hoseok#wonho#minhyuk#kihyun#hyungwon#jooheon#joohoney#changkyun#i.m#sam scribbles
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