#i become not sick for the entire year and then Christmas arrives

[exotic-dinostuff]

Merry crisis. Because I am sick 😋🦖, oh great heavens, have a wonderful holiday I hope Santa comes over, and you have a Great time with your family

[maximoffcarter]

It'll be okay.

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x reader.

Warnings: Mentions of COVID.

Summary: Emily Prentiss was known to always taking care of her team, taking full responsibility of everything, taking the blame, making sure they were okay, etc. But, it was true that she never let anyone know the hard time she was having, that was until y/n entered her life.

A/n: This was requested by anon, and gotta say I dunno if this is even good but I wrote what I felt was right. It’s angst with comfort and fluff😌 I added some backstory cause why nooooot? I mostly based this on the first episode, and maybe after the season ends, I'll do a better one, but I believe this was good enough for now haha. Our baby really does need some comfort and a goddamn break🥹 I also did not proof read this, I never do until it's too late haha, so my apologies. Hope you guys enjoy this, leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

*not my gif*

COVID had definitely taken a toll on the BAU, not only had the world stopped but a lot of things had happened then. People died, people left, the world entirely changed, and there was no stopping, no one could actually stop it. Emily Prentiss had tried to make it work, to make things a little easier as she tried to focus on her job every single day, drowning in paperwork, zoom meetings, not being able to freely do what they were so used on doing, it had been a hard year. Not only that, but the fact that her breakup had been so messy, but that was the least of all the other things she was going through. Emily thought it couldn’t have gone worse, but then y/n was very present in her life. It was funny the day where it all had gone down.

It was the end of the most painful and difficult year, 2021 was about to arrive, just a week for the so awaited new year. And it so happened that on Christmas day, Emily had gotten COVID. She was in complete denial of being sick, more so because she needed to work, and she also had nothing to help her with the undeniable symptoms; the unbearable headache and body ache, the obvious fever, the terrible cold that her body felt, the stupid and annoying coughing and the stupid stuffed nose. Yes, there was no denial she was sick, but of course she wouldn’t admit how bad it was. But that didn’t stop y/n from going into action and deciding to go to Emily. Emily had been on the phone with her a few hours earlier, and when y/n noticed how bad this had gotten, she couldn’t stop herself from getting everything she needed and off to Emily’s house she was.

“What…on earth are you doing h-here.” Emily was interrupted with a cough, her hand soon landing on her chest as she felt the horrible pain as she coughed.

“I’m here to take care of you. Go to the living room, need to keep our distance.” Y/n said softly as she adjusted her face mask, getting a bottle of spray out.

Emily furrowed her brows but went ahead to the living room, soon enough grabbing a face mask and turning back to look at y/n. “I’m fine, you don’t have to stay here.”

“Oh, but I do. We’re close to get the vaccine, I cannot have you stopping at the hospital just because you were too stubborn to accept that you’re really sick.” Y/n sprayed the whole area where Emily had just been, and then turned to look at her with a raised brow. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. You stay in your room, I’ll sleep on the couch, you can only use your room and bathroom. I’ll be bringing you food and medication, already talked to a doctor. If we don’t see any progress, we’ll have to go to the hospital, which I hope, you’ll cooperate, Prentiss.”

Emily just stared at her, a bit surprised on how y/n had become so bossy, but she also couldn’t blame her, knowing perfectly well that she’d probably die on her own. “Got it. I will.”

Y/n nodded. “Good, now I’ll go disinfect your room first. You stay here while I do that, no touching anything anymore. Though, I will clean here too.”

Emily couldn’t help the small smile that spread through her face as she nodded, thankful that the face mask was covering it. “Got it boss.”

Y/n grinned softly as she nodded. “Good, I’ll be right back. Bed stuff?”

“Closet, second drawer, and the blankets are on top.”

Emily would be lying if she said she wasn’t happy to have y/n here. Ever since y/n joined the team, somehow, they had become inseparable, even if she tried to get her to work with the whole team, before she even thought about it, she was already saying that y/n would go with her, and of course, that didn’t go unnoticed by Tara, JJ and Penelope, but they never mentioned anything, even more when Emily ended up with a boyfriend. That of course till this day, Emily thought so much about how she had forced herself to actually like someone just so she wouldn’t feel so alone. But the one person she had actually wanted…had been y/n. And now having her here, willing to take care of her even if she knew there was a risk that she could get sick, it was everything for Emily.

Emily slowly opened her eyes as she heard her door opening. She looked up and smiled softly as she noticed y/n walking in with a tray of food. “Hey. Did I sleep a lot?”

Y/n looked at Emily and smiled, carefully putting the tray of food on the nightstand. “For like an hour and a half. It’s good that you’re sleeping.” She grabbed the thermometer and placed it on Emily’s forehead. She sighed relieved and offered a small smile. “It’s coming down, finally.”

Emily smiled. “And the headache is not as bad.”

“No, Prentiss. I will not leave, it’s good you’re getting better but no way I’m leaving in the next few days.” Y/n raised her brow as she placed back the thermometer in its place.

“I was not going to say anything about that.” Emily chuckled softly. “Just…thank you.” She smiled softly as she sat on her bed.

Y/n nodded softly. “You welcome.” She smiled as she looked at Emily. “So…I ordered some groceries for tomorrow, we’ll have our own Christmas celebration.”

Emily’s heart stopped for a moment, her eyes widening. “Oh my…tomorrow is Christmas! Y/n, you shouldn’t be here. I’m sure you have-“

“Ah, stop.” Y/n grinned softly. “I have nothing to do, and I wouldn’t want to spend my Christmas any differently. What better way to celebrate it than with a sick Emily Prentiss? Such a great gift.” She chuckled softly as she grabbed the tray and placed it on Emily’s legs.

Emily’s heart swelled as she stared at y/n, a small smile on her face. “If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Y/n smiled softly. “Eat that, I’ll bring your medication.”

Emily watched her leave and her smile widened even more. All these years, she had been taking care of herself, not letting anyone in because she knew how that’d end up. She had never liked to be taken care of, but she loved to make sure that her loved ones were always good taken care of. So now, y/n doing all of this…it made her realize that maybe, just maybe…she did feel the same way.

********************

Emily groaned softly as she stretched, slowly opening her eyes to the sound of a groan and then a small whisper. As she looked up, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes, she furrowed her brows as she noticed y/n moving a small table and placing it in the middle of the door. She tilted her head in curiosity as a small, silly smile spread across her face. “What are you doing?”

Y/n looked up at Emily and smiled, her cheeks turning slightly red. “Oh uh…moving a table?”

“And…leaving it right in the middle of the door?” Emily raised her brow.

“Okay don’t laugh but…I thought this could be a way for us to have Christmas lunch together.”

Emily’s face softened as she stared at her, her cheeks turning red and not for the fever. She grinned softly. “Charming.”

“I tend to be.” Y/n grinned softly. “Grab your chair and I’ll bring the food.”

Emily smiled softly and did just as she was told, grabbing the chair that was just might the closet and sitting down in front of the table. She smiled softly as y/n came back with a chair for herself and started brought Emily her plate already with food and her drink. They ate together and right after they talked about everything but work, laughing as they told old stories about themselves and even some stories with the team. Y/n was fascinated just listening to Emily talk, loving that she had chosen the idea of spending Christmas with her, and that Emily had allowed her to take care of her. As for Emily, even if she was tired, she was enjoying every moment she was spending with y/n. As she watched her talk, she kept wondering in her mind if she was right or she was wrong about her suspicions, smiling softly without even noticing.

Y/n furrowed her brows and tilted her head as she stared at Emily. “What?” She hugged a chuckle.

“What?” Emily snapped out of her trance. “Oh! No, nothing. I’m sorry.”

Y/n chuckled. “You should get back to bed and sleep, I’ll clean up and wake you up for your pills.”

“Wait!” Emily coughed, grabbing her glass of water, and taking a deep breath afterwards. “I uh…have a question.”

“Yes?”

Emily took a deep breath, feeling her body still pretty much aching and getting all warm. “Why are you doing this?”

Y/n furrowed her brows again. “I…because I didn’t want you to be alone, Em.”

“Is that the only reason?” Emily raised her brow, a small smile on her face.

Y/n tilted her head as she smiled shyly, looking down at her glass. “Well…I don’t wanna get fired after what I have to say.”

“Which is?”

“You’re a profiler, Em. Isn’t it obvious?” Y/n blushed slightly as she looked back at her. “I…care a lot about you. Which means…that I like you…a lot.” She whispered softly as she nibbled on her lip.

Emily smiled softly as she nodded, tilting her head. “And you’re also a profiler, y/n. Isn’t it obvious?”

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at Emily. “Wait…are you serious?”

“If I wasn’t sick and this table wasn’t in the middle of us, I’d be kissing you right now.” Emily smirked softly.

Y/n’s lips parted slightly as she stared at Emily, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Is the fever making you talk?”

Emily laughed softly, coughing afterwards, and placing her hand on her chest. “No, no…I’m…I’m serious.” She smiled.

“We’re gonna check back once you’re not sick.” Y/n grinned. “But for now…this could be considered our first date.”

“And I’d like to take you in a second date…next year.” Emily joking as she grinned.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re so funny, Prentiss. But I accept.” She smiled softly.

Emily laughed softly as she nodded, feeling her heart beating faster as y/n kept staring at her with that beautiful smile on her face. After all, there was something good out of this pandemic.

********************

It wasn’t new that y/n saw Emily drowning in work, not after all the changed that the BAU had over the years. Having JJ back had at least eased things, but Rossi losing his wife, not having Penelope around, a whole new case that fell into their lap, Bailey not helping at all, Emily was losing her mind. But once she had most of her team back, including Penelope, things didn’t seem to be so bad…until they were, again. Y/n always had her eyes on Emily, the entire time, they both had promised that their relationship wouldn’t interfere with work, it wouldn’t change the way they worked, and it also wouldn’t stop them, meaning that things would stay just like they were before. Of course, the team was now aware of their relationship, and they were happy that at least, there was something to look forward to -Penelope joking that she was already planning the wedding…they believed she was joking-.

But once the whole ‘Gold Star’ started, y/n noticed how Emily just kept getting home late, trying to drown herself in work and compensate for what had happened. She had tried her best to be there for her and let Emily know that it had not been her fault, and that she had done what she and the team had thought was right. Emily tried to hide everything that she was feeling to not let y/n and the team figure out that she was having a hard time, but y/n knew better, she could now see through Emily, but she also knew not to push her. Even if it killed her to know that Emily was having a hard time.

“Hey, so where’s Emily? Thought she’d be here.” JJ snapped y/n out of her trance, making her look up at her while JJ offered a small smile.

“Oh…she had uh…she had something to do.” Y/n tried her best to smile but they knew better.

“Work, huh? She feels…guilty about Bailey?” Tara asked as she turned to look at y/n.

Y/n sighed softly as she nodded. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We know Emily. There’s not much we can do if she doesn’t want to talk.” Tara said softly as she placed her hand on y/n’s shoulder.

“But I’m her girlfriend. I mean…I should at least…I don’t know. Try harder?” Y/n shrugged. “I just want Emily to know that I’m here…”

JJ sighed softly. “Well, I’m sure she knows, she’s just…trying to deal with her stuff.”

Y/n nodded softly as she looked back at JJ, smiling softly. She felt her phone vibrating and got it out of her pocket, furrowing her brows as she saw Emily’s text. Soon enough she was saying goodbye to everyone and then heading back to the office. It felt a little weird to be here so late, the whole office was silent and almost dark, Emily’s office was the only one that had its light on. Y/n took a deep breath as she noticed Emily walking around her office and then stopping by the window. She wanted to support her in every possible way, but she was also afraid that Emily was overworking herself and that didn’t sit right with her. She slowly walked to Emily’s office and leaned against the doorframe, trying her best to smile as Emily turned to look at her.

“Hey you.” Y/n smiled softly.

Emily offered a smile in return. “I’m sorry I made you leave Penelope’s birthday.”

“I was going to anyway.” Y/n shrugged. “What’s going on?”

Emily sighed softly. “We need to talk.”

Y/n felt her heart drop for a moment as she stared at Emily. She could only nod, not trusting her voice as she felt her body slightly trembling as she waited for Emily to say anything at all, but instead, she walked to y/n, grabbed her hand, and kissed it softly, offering a smile as she pulled y/n with her. Soon enough, they were on the ceiling, Emily had sat down and had pulled out a box of cigarettes, catching y/n off guard for a moment, but also keeping in mind how incredibly hot it was to see her smoke. Seriously, y/n…not the time. She crossed her arms and listened to everything Emily had to say, and again, she felt helpless as she listened to Emily, wanting nothing more than to be able to fix all this with a snap of her finger and be able to take Emily anywhere so she could relax.

“Well, you’ve been doing your homework.” Y/n teased as she walked closer to Emily and grabbed the cigarette putting it in her mouth before she returned it to Emily.

Emily scoffed. “Well…we need to get to the end of this.”

Y/n nodded, sighing softly, and looked away for a moment. “So…you think he’s government trained or something?”

“He’s definitely too proficient to be self-taught.”

“And that’s why they’re keeping it a secret.” Y/n tilted her head as she looked back at Emily. “I know that you’ve been overprotective after what happened…but we need to let the team know about this. You know that working together, we’ll get it done.”

Emily sighed softly as she nodded. “I know.” She nibbled on her lip for a moment as she looked at y/n. “Baby…I need you to promise me that whatever we do here, I need you to be safe. We see what he does…what has happened so far. I cannot…” her voice cracked for a moment, looking down at the floor as she put back the cigarette in her mouth.

Y/n sighed softly as she walked to Emily, positioning herself in between her legs and placing her hands on her cheeks, tilting her head up so their eyes locked. “I will promise you that if you promise me the same.” She smiled softly. “Em, I need you to take a break too. You’ve barely been home, you’ve barely been sleeping. I will make the promise if you promise me you’ll also take care of yourself.”

Emily took a deep breath, moving her free hand to y/n’s hips, offering a small smile. “Alright. I will.”

Y/n smiled softly as she leaned down to kiss Emily’s forehead. “You’re stubborn, Prentiss. If I don’t take care of you, you won’t.”

“That’s why I have you. Couldn’t have it any other way.” Emily chuckled softly, leaning up slightly to kiss her lips while she put out the cigarette.

Y/n smiled against her lips. “I know I should be forbidding you from smoking but…did you know you look extremely hot smoking?”

Emily chuckled softly as she wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “No but thank you.” She grinned.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and then leaned down to kiss her lips again. “Let’s go call Garcia.”

********************

Y/n could only stare at Emily while everyone else talking, giving their thoughts about the video they had just watched. she couldn’t really concentrate on what they were even talking about, part of her was trying to comprehend everything, work with them, say anything at all, but her mind was entirely focused on Emily. The moment Rossi and Emily had walked into the office, she could tell that there was something wrong with Emily; the way she stared at them, the way she talked, her eyes seemed…lost. She tried to keep up with everything, every now and then feeling JJ’s eyes on her, even Tara’s, but her eyes were only focused on Emily.

“Em?” Y/n asked softly as they all left the room, walking to Emily and taking her hand. “Are you alright?”

Emily looked back at her and furrowed her brows. “Yes. Why are you asking?”

Y/n tilted her head slightly as she raised her brow. “That was not nothing. What you and Rossi saw…and you…you don’t look okay.”

Emily shrugged. “It’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

Y/n sighed softly. “Emily, I-“

“Right now, we need to focus on this case. We might have something important here. I know I promised, but we also promised we wouldn’t change the way we work here. Right now, we’re at work, and we need to focus on that.” Emily said softly but firmly, not wanting to sound rude or harsh, but the way she looked at y/n, with stress and frustration, made y/n’s insides turn.

Y/n nodded softly as she let go of Emily’s hand. “Right.”

Emily only nodded before she left, leaving y/n standing there, not knowing what to do or say. She knew working together wouldn’t be the easiest thing ever, but she couldn’t help it, and Emily couldn’t blame her for worrying. Y/n had stayed behind with JJ at the office, she had tried to brush it off and focus on their main task. But again, once they came back, y/n noticed it again, she noticed the way Emily rubbed her temple and went straight to her office. She didn’t say anything, she stayed with JJ as she let Emily have a minute. She was right, they had made it clear things wouldn’t change, and so far, it had worked out, and she was not about to stress Emily more.

********************

Y/n closed the door behind her and sighed softly as she locked it, standing there staring at it as she took a deep breath before she turned to walk to their room. Emily was already sitting on the bed, taking off her shoes. Y/n said nothing, walking to the bed and also sitting down and doing the same as Emily. Silence surrounded them for a moment for a while, y/n knew it was stupid that Emily’s words had hit her the way they did, but she couldn’t help it, she knew that if it was the other way around, Emily wouldn’t drop it until y/n accepted that Emily was right, but in this case, which was not even an option.

But then she heard a soft groan coming from Emily, and as she turned, she noticed Emily’s head in her hands, and y/n was back to feeling worried. She stood up slowly and walked around the bed, kneeling right in front of Emily, and positioning herself in between her legs, her hands on top of Emily’s as she leaned her head against Emily’s.

“Em…” Y/n whispered softly.

“I’m exhausted.” Emily breathed out, her voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what’s going on, nothing seems right, everything seems to be against us, to be against me. It’s like they want me to resign so badly, they want…they want the BAU to disappear. I don’t know what they want from me, I cannot just drop this, not after everything we’ve been through.” She said quietly as she felt her eyes getting teary, not being able to look up at y/n. “They’re making us get involved with a fucking serial killer. What has gotten into their minds?! What are they hiding?!”

Y/n wrapped her arms around her, only being able to hold Emily tightly as she started sobbing. Emily knew that she was overworking herself, that she was doing too much, she was obsessing too much, but there was no chance to back down, she couldn’t just let it happen, she couldn’t let them win. But she felt so…heavy. Everything hurt, her head felt like exploding, her chest felt heavy, she had felt the usual anxiety creep in her body, she felt worse than she had years ago. She sobbed quietly as she felt y/n tightening her embrace, Emily suddenly wrapping her arms around y/n’s neck, feeling bad for the weird position they were in, but needing y/n to hold her so badly, she’d worry about the position later.

“I can’t just drop this.” Emily whispered as she buried her face on y/n’s neck, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I know. And we won’t drop it. I’ll be by your side.” Y/n whispered softly.

“I’m sorry I’m so stubborn…”

Y/n shook her head, smiling softly as she turned to kiss the side of her head. “But you’re mine. You can be as stubborn as you want.”

Emily chuckled softly as she pulled away, looking into y/n’s eyes. “I’m sorry that I’ve been drowning myself in this case.”

Y/n sighed softly. “I don’t blame you, Emily.” She rubbed Emily’s back softly as she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I just don’t want you falling sick for so much stress. I don’t want you to get stuck in this to the point where you can’t notice that you’re putting everything and you’re putting yourself in danger.” She said softly as she looked into Emily’s eyes. “I’m just worried about you.”

Emily nodded as she let out a shaky breath. “I know. I won’t keep anything else from you, I promise. And…I’ll come to you when it’s too much.”

Y/n nodded as she smiled. “Em…baby, look at me.” She ran her fingers through her hair as Emily locked her eyes on hers. “I’m here for you, no matter what. The good and the bad, you’re not a burden to me, okay? I love you. And you’re not alone.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears as her face softened, her body slightly trembling as she finally gave up and let tiredness take over her. She took a deep shaky breath, nodding her head as more tears rolled down her cheeks. Y/n rapidly wrapped her into another tight hug, letting Emily bury her face on her neck and sob as much as she needed. They stayed like that for a while, y/n rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings while Emily cried. It was becoming too much, and Emily knew this wasn’t even the half of it and there was so much more to come, but for now, for now she had y/n, she was present in this moment. Y/n gave her the space to break and make her feel like she deserved to have this sort of moment even if they still made her feel weak, but she knew her lover would never judge her, not like she had been judged before. After a moment, she finally felt like she had gotten everything out, slowly moving back but resting her forehead against y/n’s, not wanting to be away.

“Thank you…” Emily whispered softly.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you always take care of me even if you don’t have to.” Emily smiled through her tears.

Y/n smiled softly pulling away just enough to wipe her tears and stroke her cheek. “And I’ll be here to do it over and over again. If I risked my life with COVID, why not now?” She grinned a little.

Emily rolled her eyes playfully. “Well, it kept you in my apartment for a whole month. Not my fault you were so eager to kiss me.” She teased back.

Y/n gasped softly. “In my defense, you were supposed to be out of risk, and also, I couldn’t help it when I had you right in front of me. We had become girlfriends, and I hadn’t even kissed you yet.”

“That’s true.” Emily chuckled softly as she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “And I got to take care of you.”

Y/n nodded. “We’ve got each other’s back. You take care of me, and I take care of you.” She smiled softly.

Emily smiled and nodded softly. “Yes.” She rested her forehead against y/n’s once again. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Y/n smiled softly and sighed softly as she closed her eyes for a moment. After a while, she moved to kiss Emily’s nose and offer another smile. “C’mon, let’s take a bath together. I’ll bring some wine and snacks.”

Emily smiled softly and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Y/n nodded before she got up, but as she was about to leave, Emily pulled her back to her, making her turn back to Emily who was now standing. “Yes?”

Emily smiled softly as she shook her head. “Nothing.” She placed her hand on y/n’s neck and brought their lips together into a tender kiss. “I love you.” She whispered softly against her lips.

Y/n giggled. “I love you too.” She whispered back and kissed her lips one more time before she walked out of the room.

Emily knew there was still a very long way, she had no idea what they were getting into, a lot of stress was coming their way, but she knew that as soon as she walked into their house, she’d be able to leave that stress behind at least for a while. This little bubble they had created for themselves was everything to Emily, and what got her to keep going. And that was all she needed.

[mollywog]

Easy as Pie

Invitation | Prep | Doubt | Neighbor

Debts

She squints her eyes and tilts her head. He fidgets under her scrutiny, scratching the back of his neck to have something to do with his hand, “or not. I can figure it out later.”

Her eyes go wide and mouth forms an oh, before she shakes her head, “I’m sorry, I was trying to remember if I fed the cat today,” she lies unconvincingly. “Actually, let me introduce you,” she turns so he can’t see her face.

He follows her towards a group of guests that have begun dispersing until only Finnick remains. He gives Katniss a sly grin, “Didn’t realize you were bringing a date Everdeen.”

“Not a date,” she scowls, Finnick’s grin only widens. “This is Peeta, he works with Annie and asked me if I could introduce him to our host,” She emphasizes the last words.

He feels like Katniss has been speaking in riddles all night, and the other shoe is about to drop. “Nice to meet you,” he shakes the man’s hand. “I’m a fan,” he adds for lack of anything better to say; even to his own ears it sounds lame.

Peeta watches as something in Finnick’s veneer cracks, “wait, you’re the bread guy right? The one who drops breakfast at Annie’s desk?”

Peeta nods dumbly.

Finnick “Then I’m the real fan. Annie had such a terrible bout of morning sickness this time around; sicker than she’d been the entire pregnancy with Sebastian. It let up some last month, but it was so traumatizing that she’s become tentative about food. Your baked goods have been a godsend, she raves about them and at least I know she’s eaten something. I owe you; if you ever need a weather prediction in a pinch feel free to give me a call. Katniss will give you my number.”

“I’m off duty”

“Okay well you get his number today and you can text him mine tomorrow when you are.” He throws her a wink that makes even Peeta blush.

If he needs further confirmation of who Finnick is it arrives in the form of Annie, “the water’s ready when you are, but you should probably start soon if we want to keep dinner on track.” She turns and spots Peeta, “Oh good, you’ve met Finnick and Katniss, I hope they haven’t scared you off,” she points between the pair with a stern look before bustling off to the kitchen with Finnick in tow.

He waits until they're out of earshot before turning towards Katniss, laughter in her eyes and wineglass obscuring her smile. “Thanks for the introduction,” he deadpans.

She laughs, “I’m sorry, it was too good to pass up. Really you got off easy. He usually loves this kind of thing, but he was too grateful to be any fun.”

“I guess that means I owe you. Do you think Finnick’s predictions are transferable?”

“Nah, that’s alright, I’ve got enough of those,” Katniss shrugs, “but I’m sure we can figure something else out.”

I had a couple other ideas for what I wanted to do with this premise (including a modification of the baby shower game ‘don’t say baby’ -> ‘don’t say Christmas’ as well as Christmas-less caroling), but alas! I’ve run out of time! Maybe I’ll try and pick it up again next year?

[horsesarecreatures]

Book review: The Overstory by Richard Powers

This is a collection of short stories and novellas with the theme of trees. It was well written and won the 2019 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, but I wasn't crazy about it. To me, being around nature is a source of happiness, but the stories were just depressing.

 The first story follows immigrants named Jorgen and Vi Hoel who move to Iowa from New York to start a farm. Joel brings along a bunch of American Chestnut seedlings and plants them, but over the years they die off one by one until only one remains. This tree, however, becomes massive and is a local landmark. Subsequent generations of Hoels begin photogating it every season. Nicholas Hoel, an artist, keeps the tradition going. One winter the family gathers back at the farm, most of which has been sold off, for Christmas. Nicholas decides to brave a snowstorm on Christmas Eve to go to an art exhibit in Omaha. The rest of the family stays put. Nicholas almost dies in a car wreck on the way back. When he finally arrives home, he is greeted by silence. He enters the house to find his entire family dead from carbon monoxide poisoning. But guess what remains? The chestnut tree!!! Its “...profligate twigs click in the breeze as if this moment, too, so insignificant, so transitory, will be written into its rings and prayed over by branches that wave their semaphores against the bluest of midwestern winter skies.”

The next story is about another immigrant named Ma Sih Hsuin. He is a Chinese Muslim from a immensely affluent family who leaves for San Francisco to escape the communists who will descend on his family in another 6 months and send them to workcamps. In the US, he becomes a successful engineer who develops an early version of the cell phone, marries a southern woman named Charlotte, and has three daughters. He enjoys camping and has a happy life. He plants a mulberry tree in his yard because one of the things his father gave to him before he left was a ancient painting of Fusang, a magical mulberry tree from the far east where the elixir of life is hidden. But as his daughters grow up, the mulberry tree grows sickly despite all the care he gives it. Despite his phone becoming licensed, when he realizes he cannot save the tree, the normally cheerful Ma Sih Hsuin becomes depressed and “puts a Smith & Wesson 686 with hardwood grips up to his temple and spreads the workings of his infinite being across the flagstones of the backyard.”

..............................................................................................................................

I get that Powers was emphasizing the theme of nature being infinite in comparison to individual humans, but the heavy mood and imagery in this book just seemed over the top to me. Stylistically, I also found it to be very similar to The Dubliners by James Joyce, which I read once in high school, again in a Cultures of Colonialism class at Stockton, and a third time in a James Joyce class at Montclair State, and at this point I’m sick of it. For these reasons I found this book’s 500+ pages to be repetitive and tedious, even though in the end Powers did a somewhat unique thing where the 9 characters from the short stories came together to protect the forests. 

[realpapaemeritusiv]

🔫 Tell everyone about gianni rn or I’ll shoot (it’s full of water) (just regular water but it’s like just slightly cold)

damn guess i gotta tell the world about my main boy gianni. it'll be under a cut bc its long as shit

okay so this right here

is gianni (technically gianni copia emeritus if we're going by full legal names here). we've made our own lore and i hope eventually you'll make a masterpost of it so if i write stuff later on i can include the link as a reference for anyone that might choose to read it bc honestly i think the lore that we've altered and made up is really interesting and i think people might enjoy reading it one day. anyway, onto the meat and potatoes of this.

so, with the lore that we've created, gianni is the twin brother of copia (named giorgio/gio in our lore bc honestly he needed a name and that name slaps) born to nihil and lucifer (i am 100% down to answer more questions on this bc this slaps also ik owen will def be down to answer questions about that little tidbit or it might be in the headcanon tag on their blog).

there's a bit of a branching path with him because i go back and forth between having them be raised together until they're both 10 or until they're both 5, but the constant is nihil having to send away one son to keep them safe from imperator (named cirice in our lore and will be called that for the duration of this post just to keep things streamlined). from 5/10 until his mid to late 30s, gianni worked his way up in the ranks of an abbey in italy that i think i made up. honestly, he was completely taken advantage of in that abbey, being worked to near death by the cardinals and siblings of sin (fun fact this man is a people pleaser to the max and also physically cannot take a single day off and has actually almost died from it). while literally being overworked by pure luck he managed to meet a special someone (you'll shit when you find out who it is) and starts a little sneaky relationship with them.

the person? temptesa, aka our own rain ghoul. (i'm sure owen's posted lore about it so go check it for more deets). they probably get a good year or two together and exchange rings before his beloved is sent away without his knowledge (to Linköping by pure luck where they're later reunited and i'll def expand on that if anyone wants to know more)

so he's eventually asked to return to the abbey as a cardinal (that we placed in Linköping just for simplicities sake and to have one cohesive area anytime the abbey's mentioned) and arrives back home after 25-30 years to one of 2 things

the previous papas already having been executed by cirice and prepared for the veneration of relics and everyone in the abbey absolutely depressed

or

during anti christmas :)

i haven't really taken the time to build the lore on everything that happens immediately after he's returned home, but he does continue his work as a cardinal and watching as his twin becomes papa and tours the world spreading the word of the church

UNTIL

he gets to play papa one time because his brother's way too sick to perform the ritual/show and he's the only one available who can fill the role. he literally crams learning all the songs in like 11 hours and is such a nervous wreck before that first show and he def barfs at least once before he goes on stage for the first time.

this man is a whole ass natural at being on that stage. talks to the crowd, puts his whole self into every song, and literally stays a few hours after that first show just to talk to anyone who stays after bc this man loves the fans, adores them tbh.

he finally gets his chance to be papa when gio wants to step down and focus on starting a family with his wife (who i am also 100% down to talk about later, not rn tho this is gianni time) and this man puts his entire being into being a good papa. he doesn't take a salary, pushes for the ghouls to be equal to him, defends the ghouls (and there's a ton of stuff i could talk about when it comes to him with the ghouls bc this man is lowkey a whore), and just pretty much revamps the church from the ground up and has the ghouls finally be equals to everyone else.

that's just a lil taste of gianni tbh bc there's so much more i could talk about but i gotta workshop some of it still

[thecrimsonhelmet]

Send 🌿 to accidentally get caught under the mistletoe with my muse. 🌿

It’s been years since Jason actually celebrated Christmas.

Well…alright, that’s not entirely true. Last year he had Christmas at the manor for the first time since he’d been Robin, and it had been weird as hell. Being treated like he was part of the family, like he never left (died, came back, went a little murder crazy, and stewed in his hatred of his so-called ‘family’ until they coaxed him back like some feral, stray cat), like they were all one big, happy family. There’d been laughter and cheer, presents exchanged, a literal feast, several near-homicides over a few rounds of Mario Kart, and one of the biggest goddamn Christmas trees he’d ever seen.

And no one had even been stabbed. Not even a little.

So maybe not years since he’s celebrated Christmas, but certainly years since he did any sort of decorating in his home. He’d helped Alfred a bit, back in the old days, and his mom before that, before she’d gotten sick. But Jason is an adult now, with adult money and his own apartment, and he’s decorated it all by himself, this year—no prompting, no real reason behind it.

If you can call a single sprig of mistletoe hanging over the doorway decorating, that is. Because that’s all he’s done. Gone out and gotten some real mistletoe—none of that fake, plastic shit (he was buying from and supporting a small business owner, not putting money in the pockets of some giant corporation that didn’t give a shit about anyone but themselves)—hung it up, and waited for TK to arrive.

Ambushes him at the door before he can even fully step into the apartment.

“Huh. Would ya look at that.” He feigns surprise, glancing up at the little bit of greenery, as if he isn’t the one that put it there in the first place. “I think that’s mistletoe. You know there’s a rule about that? Pretty sure it’s enforceable by law. And we wouldn’t want either of us to become criminals, now, would we?” Not that he needs an excuse to kiss TK, it’s just a bit more fun, to do it this way.

@tkstranded (x)

[slasherscream]

Hello. Ok I must say I've spent the last 3 days on your blog just reading and reading. Your Billy x reader x Stu give me life!my god it's so good ♥♥♥ Would it be ok to make a request? I was thinking about a scenario where Billy's cheating dad brings home a little girl and he's like "yo, so this is your new sister Billy" and at first Billy is being Billy and hates her guts but Stu is kind to her and as time passes all three become small cute murder family... just an idea...

A/N: this idea is so good. i changed it a bit but here it goes-

Billy’s father has had it coming for a nice long while. He was a shitty man, a shitty father, and an even shittier husband. If Billy looks at the man for too long it makes him physically sick. Needless to say, he’s been living off of borrowed time.

It would have looked suspicious if the man died right after the Woodsboro massacre. So Billy waited, impatiently. He started dating Stu, finished senior year, and the two went off to a community college together (they’d spent so many months planning the murders that they’d accidentally let university applications fall through the cracks).

The years go by quickly. A murder here, another one there, figuring out what four year college to go to. Getting jobs. With real adult life creeping in Billy had almost forgotten about his old man entirely. Almost.

The man has awful timing. He calls Billy up, out of the blue. They hadn’t talked since the day Billy moved out. Frankly, he doesn’t even know how his father got his number. He doesn’t remember giving it to the bastard. He invites Billy home for Thanksgiving and Billy thinks what a perfect early Christmas gift to himself. Dear ol’ Dad’s head on a spike. Then he tells Billy he wants him to meet his new wife and step-kid. Wants his whole family together.

Billy doesn’t know how he manages to act like a normal, vaguely irritated son for the rest of the phone call. Inside he’s white hot rage. The first thing he does when he hangs up the phone is shatter it. The whole apartment becomes a particularly fragile punching bag. When Stu gets home he looks at the destruction with bewilderment, and can only ask, “Did we get robbed man?”

Woodsboro is going to see another violent, tragic murder. That’s for sure.

Stepping into his childhood home for the first time in years makes him sick. Billy swears he can still smell his Mother’s perfume in the air, but he turns the corner and there’s another woman cooking and prancing around in her fucking kitchen like she owns the place.

Billy can’t wait to string her up by her intestines. To choke her with them. He’ll kill her first and make his father watch the entire thing. But however painful the step-whore’s death will be, Billy will make his father’s twenty times worse. That will be for his mother. 

Deciding he won’t be the only one pissed off this week, he brings along Stu for the family reunion. Maybe it was a little vindictive of him to ask Stu to marry him so they’d be engaged in time for the get together. But he was gonna get around to it anyways, eventually. Besides, Stu had laughed his ass off about it.

You don’t come downstairs when they first arrive and Billy wants to roll his eyes at your Mother telling him “she’s not usually like this, honest-” as if he could give a shit.

They’re not planning on killing you. They haven’t killed any kids yet, and even though Billy thinks about it- thinks about how much it would hurt your Mom to make her watch you die - the thought of killing you makes him uncomfortable. You’re just a kid. Not your fault your Mother is a whore and your new Step-Dad is a piece of shit. He’ll just make sure to psychologically torture her in some other way to make up for it.

When you slink your way downstairs in that petulant way that only kids can, Billy starts to rethink that not killing you thing. You spend all of dinner not saying two words to him, but you’ve got the nerve to scowl at him the entire time like he’s intruding in your house and you’re wondering when he’s gonna leave. Or die.

Knowing that appearance is everything, Billy makes sure to publicly bond with your mother. He goes grocery shopping with her. They get lunch. Anything to sell the image of a perfect family. Anything to alleviate suspicion when she winds up dead, alongside her new husband. Stu stays behind and babysits you.

At first you’re resentful of being watched at all. But Stu has a way with kids, his energy so much like one that it’s hard for them to hate him. In just a few days you’re thicker than thieves. So you start telling him things.

I hate playing family. / Mom only ever pays attention to me when people are around. / They’re always gone. / I think they both wish it was just them, that I wasn’t here-

Stu might not be the most empathetic person around (obviously) but something about the things you tell him makes him feel for you. You’ve got a sad little orphan Annie thing going on. Stu doesn’t know why he tells Billy that he thinks he should spend time with you, but he does. Billy, obtuse, thinks it’s to sell the lie better. So he takes you out to some shitty diner for a special “brother/sister” breakfast.

You moped in the car, you stomped your way into the restaurant, and you slouch in your chair when you’re seated. When he asks you if you want crayons to color with, you instantly know that he’s mocking you and "subtly” knock over your water, hoping to wet him. It doesn’t work, but he admires your spitefulness.

You only sit in silence pushing your food around for a bit before you break. “Your Dad sucks. I hate him.” Billy doesn’t stop to think about how he’s talking to a child before he says, “I’m sure he hates you too.” You don’t start crying big alligator tears, like he thought you would. He was already preparing for it, thinking about how he was going to have to bribe you with ice cream or something to stop you from crying. Instead you sink further into your seat, like you want to melt there, “He doesn’t hate me. He just wishes I wasn’t around.... neither of them want me around.”

Billy sits shell-shocked for a minute. Frankly, he’s never talked to a kid this long. He doesn’t remember how old you are but he doesn’t even think you’re eleven yet. He wonders what the hell the both of your parents are doing behind closed doors to make you feel that way. He knew his father was lousy, he’d already grown up with him. But your Mother had seemed normal. A little fake, but normal.

“What do you mean by that?” So you tell him. The way you told Stu. About the neglect. The long hours alone. By the end of it your little hands are balled into fists and your food is ice cold. The entire time Billy sat quiet. At the end you regret telling him anything. Just because he’s getting married to Stu doesn’t mean he’s nice like Stu. He’s probably just like his Dad.

You start to turn to the window, ready to ignore him until he decides to take you both home. You turn back around when he says, “Your Mom fucking sucks.”

You blink up at him, wide-eyed. You’re shocked he took you seriously. “Yeah, she does.” You finish eating your breakfast quietly but neither of you leave the diner feeling the way you did when you came in.

Thanksgiving passes by uneventfully. Billy and Stu are invited back for Christmas break by your Mother and they accept the invitation. Stu gives you both of their numbers and ruffles your hair, telling you not to be a stranger. Billy stands so stiffly while you say goodbye that you extend your hand for a handshake, not wanting to put either of you through an awkward goodbye hug. He laughs and tells you to take care of yourself.

When they come back for Christmas you’re actually outside to greet them when their car pulls up. You tell them about school. About the things you’ve been doing since you last saw them. About how you managed to watch some of the horror movies Stu snuck you, and you didn’t even have to sleep with the light on afterwards. They sit through it all dutifully and maybe even with amusement. You’re not the same withdrawn kid you were when they first met you, that’s for sure.

Billy is a little miserable , spending the holiday at home. He remembers all the traditions he used to do with his Mom. Putting up the Christmas tree. The lights. Burning cookies and icing them anyway, then trying again until they got it right.

He’s surprised at how the house isn’t decorated and you tell him your Mom isn’t very festive. He tells you your Mom can kick rocks, and hauls all the old Christmas stuff out of the garage and attic. You spend the weekend putting everything up together, you, Billy and Stu. Focusing on trying to give you a good Christmas actually distracts him from the way he misses his Mom.

He doesn’t realize it until it’s Christmas Eve and neither of your parents is in sight. You’re curled up on one side of him, and Stu is on the other. The house smells overwhelmingly of pine scented air freshener, and Frosty the Snowman is playing on the TV. You’re making an excellent case on why Frosty should actually count as a horror movie, and Stu is laughing but trying to argue with you about it anyway. He realizes this is the best Christmas he’s had in awhile.

The three of you fall asleep on the couch together. Billy wakes up a few hours later when your parents come stumbling in, drunk and shushing each other too loudly. It pisses him off, thinking about how they’d have probably gone out on the town and left you alone even if he and Stu weren’t there to stay with you. He wonders just how many times you’re left alone in this house that was too big and lonely for him even when he was a teenager, let alone a fucking kid.

He goes to put out a glass of milk for “Santa” along with the cookies when he runs into your drunk Mother in the kitchen, opening another bottle of wine like his Dad and her aren’t wasted enough.

“Thanks for looking after the kid this week. I know she can be a lot.” The words make him stop cold and he looks behind her, to the drawer that the knives are kept in and almost says fuck it. If the miserable bitch hadn’t wanted to be a Mother this badly she should have kept her legs closed.

“Yeah, no problem.” He has to leave before he fucks up the whole plan and kills her too early. 

He doesn’t wake you up so you can go up to bed on your own. For some reason he thinks about the last time he ever got carried up to bed and picks you up and takes you there himself. He remembers the feeling of waking up, drowsy but safe on his Mother’s shoulder. Of being tucked in, and then waking up in bed later, only vaguely aware that someone else put you there. He was younger than you are now, that last time. But he doesn’t think it matters that much. He doesn’t think you’ve ever gotten cared for like that before. That you were ever made to feel as loved as he was by his Mother. And that’s even with the fact that she up and left one day without a word. At least when she was around she was there.

So he puts you into bed, and tucks you under the covers, and sits beside you for awhile, just staring. He looks up when he feels like he’s being watched, only to find Stu in the doorway staring at him. They go to bed and don’t say a word to one another about it.

They get married in the Spring and you’re the ring bearer. You walk down the aisle ahead of Stu with a big grin on your face. You’re also Billy’s “best-man”. He’s not close to very many people, besides Stu, who he’s marrying. He wasn’t gonna have one at all but then he thought of you, and figured you’d get a kick out of him asking, at the very least. You looked like he’d given you a lottery ticket and hugged him so tight he was impressed. You were the guest screaming the loudest when they kissed and it made them laugh so hard they had to stop.

Summer hits and that’s when it’s going to finally happen. They come to Woodsboro to spend the summer. It’s to help with appearances, sure, but they’re actually looking forward to seeing you. They take you camping. You stay up all night watching movies. You drag them up onto the roof to look at the stars and it makes Billy smile, thinking about all the times he used to do it when he was a kid. His Mom would always yell at him, telling him he’d break his neck one day. You point to a place on the roof where he’d carved his name and he rolls his eyes when he sees that you crossed out his name and carved yours over it.

The weeks go quickly and before they know it it’s time to don their old costumes. Billy’s not as excited as he thought he was going to be. He doesn’t know why he’s starting to get second thoughts, he hates his Dad and despises your Mother even more. Until Stu asks him, hesitantly, “What’s gonna happen to Y/N?”

And there it goes. The reason his stomach’s been twisted up into knots. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen to you. It’s too late to back out of it now. His father’s been had this coming, and your Mother is as shitty as she can be without outright forgetting to feed you or keep the lights on. But what about the aftermath? Are you gonna get carted off by the state? Or shipped away to some distant relative who couldn’t give a shit about you? The thought makes him sick, but he doesn’t want to admit it. All he does is snap back at Stu, “Who gives a shit.”

Stu walks out and doesn’t come back till the next day.

They kill them and it’s their best work. They’ve had plenty of practice over the years. There’s crying, begging, pleading. They draw it out for a long time. At the end of it Billy’s father is whimpering, staring at the mangled corpse of his second wife and asking why. So Billy takes off his mask and tells him why.

They sneak back into the vacation home they’re renting and you’re just where they left you. Tucked in and sleeping soundly. Billy falls asleep with a smile on his face. Stu gets up twice in the night, restless. Each time he winds up outside your door.

A day later an officer shows up at your door, hat in his hands, and tells you that something awful has happened. Billy pretends to be shocked. Stu closes his eyes and tries not to think of how you’re definitely eavesdropping, too impatient for them to come and tell you what’s going on after the cop leaves.

Billy goes to identify the bodies and can’t help but think it is kind of hard to recognize them. If there’s anything he and Stu are good at it’s this.

He feels a lot less smug when he gets home and you’re sobbing your eyes out, clinging to Stu like he’s a lifeline. The moment he sits down next to you you throw yourself at him and he’s surprised at how quickly he wraps his arms around you. At the way he rocks you back and forth and tries his best to soothe you.

“What’s gonna happen to me, Billy?” You wail, helpless in the way only a kid can be. And Stu is looking at him over your shoulder and before he knows it he’s opened his mouth and said, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. You’re my sister/brother. We’re family. We’re going to take care of you.” It doesn’t make you stop crying but he keeps saying it, over and over. You’re gonna be okay. Nothing’s ever going to happen to you. We’ll take care of you, we promise.

You’re better off with him and Stu anyways.

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 5)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: swearing, violence, mild smut

Part Summary: You and Topper make amends. You two attend the end of the summer bonfire at the Boneyard. When JJ sees you guys together, things take a turn for the worst. 

Masterlist

Somehow, after hours of crying, you finally fell asleep on your bed. You're not quite sure when it happened. Your covers tucked nicely under you, wet from your tears. When you first got home, you immediately snuck up to your room, far from your parents. You ripped off your Labor Day dress, having already hated it, but you also took your aggression out on it. You changed in one of Topper's T-shirts that you stole sometime last summer... when you were hooking up. You had never been so close. Morning, noon, and night you were together. You were practically dating but without the titles. Actually, it was far deeper than that. You spent almost every hour together, you co-existing. You were acting married even though you were only teenagers. You guys just loved each other that much. If someone had told you then that a year from now you two wouldn't be talking, you would've thought they were crazy. 

“Y/N!" You hear Topper in your dreams.  "Y/N!" He repeats, then you process it's real. 

"What the-" You rise from your laid position and spot the boy climbing in from your window in the dark. "Topper?" 

"Hey! Sorry to scare you," he apologizes as he rises to his feet from a crawling position on your floor. 

"Did you climb through the window?" You question, this wouldn't be the first time, but it nevertheless is mind-boggling to you how he can climb up the side of your house. 

"Yeah, can you tell your mom to not have the gardeners cut the vines so short?" He complains with a chuckle, brushing down his Patagonia shirt. 

"What are you doing here?" You yawn. Considering what he said to you just hours before, you can't help but wonder why the fuck he's here. 

"I... I need to apologize," he stammers, taking a seat on the edge of your bed just by your legs. "Y/N, I'm so sorry! I was such a jerk to you earlier. I shouldn't have-" 

Before he can even finish, you leap at him, pulling him into a pleading hug. "Jesus, I'm so happy you're here," you whisper against his shoulder. 

Topper instantly wraps his arms around you, engulfing you. He releases a deep breath, not having realized until this moment that he couldn't breathe the entire time you weren't talking. "I've missed you!" He pulls back and brushes his hand across your cheek, bringing your hair back. "I missed you the moment you left!" He wears a smile of relief as his eyes glisten with tears threatening to fall. 

"Never let me go again," you mutter, almost as a beg. 

"I could never. I didn't," Topper explains in a rushed whisper, gripping your waist. "As soon as you left I was a mess, ask the boys! They had to talk me off a cliff. I came by earlier but your parents said you were still at Kiara's... which I'm guessing you were with JJ and the other Pogues..." His face falters and he avoids your gaze at the mention of JJ. 

You bring your hand up and tuck your fingers under his chin, guiding him to look at you. His eyes meet you with defeat and it nearly breaks your heart. "JJ drove me back to John B's, but I had Sarah drive me home almost as soon as we got there." 

"So you and JJ..." He can't bring himself to ask. 

"We..." Your brows scrunch together as you realize you never really discussed it. "You know what, I didn't even know." Enough about JJ, you're just happy that Topper is here! You felt so empty all day, in a constant state of panic. Now, you can exist again. "I'm just relieved you're here, Top. I've felt sick to my stomach all day," you release a breathless laugh of relief. 

"No, yeah you're right, no one else matters," he shakes his head, reaching for your hand on his cheek and taking it in his hands. "As long as we're good then everything else will be okay." He lifts your hand to his lips and gives them a needy kiss. 

"Stay with me?" You ask softly as he does. 

You see him swallow hard, pausing with your hand his lips. His eyes flicker up to yours with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "I was hoping you'd ask." A faint grin appearing on the edge of his lips. 

You and Topper get ready for bed as you used to every night when he snuck into your room a lot more. You've shared a bed since breaking off your... arrangement. There was the ski trip and Bermuda, but on random nights when he couldn't sleep or missed you, Topper would find himself in your bed. You pull back your blankets, knowing to get on the side closest to the window, away from the door. Topper didn't need to think twice to move to the opposite side because ever in the case of an emergency, he's the closest to the door. He's always thinking of how to keep you safe and satisfied. As you climb in, Topper begins to remove his t-shirt and shorts. You can't help but watch as his clothes become a pile on his side. It's months since you two have done anything, but that doesn't mean you haven't thought about it. There have been opportunities, but you always try to be responsible and remember why you stopped. Topper doesn't notice your staring and wondering what it would feel like to run your fingers down his chest. He climbs in next to you and immediately guides you into his side. Instantly, you feel secure and wanted, which is all anyone ever needs. He brushes his fingertips up and down your spine gently while you rest your cheek against his bare chest. It's not a new feeling to you, but it certainly never gets old. 

"There's a bonfire tomorrow at the Boneyard, wanna go together?" The boy asks, glancing down at you. 

"As long as Rafe doesn't go wild as he did," you snicker, but you mean what you say. 

"Don't worry about him, we had a nice long chat once he sobered up this afternoon," he insinuates and you wish you would've seen Topper go off on him. Then, you comprehend that it might've only happened because Topper was mad at you and Rafe was getting the side effects. 

"He doesn't deserve you, Top." You mutter, lifting your head off his chest to place a quick kiss on his chest. 

"That's how I feel about myself with you," he confesses as he peers down at you. "You've always been there for me. When Sarah cheated, you were right there and pulled me through it. The way I spoke to you this morning. I-" 

"No, no, don't say that," you shake your hand repeatedly as you cup his cheek as you did before. He leans into your touch and you find yourself wishing to be closer to him, as though that's even possible. "I love you, Top. You're my best friend. I'll always be there for you. You've helped me in more ways than you could ever realize." 

"I love you too, Y/N," he smiles, leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "So much..." he whispers against your skin. 

His eyes flicker down to your neck and you remember last night in the kitchen. You brush your hand across Topper's cheek, pulling his focus back to you. His eyes and features falter at the evidence of JJ on you. 

"I'm here with you! Okay? It's you and me," you try to emphasize. 

He nods slowly, still feeling an ache in his chest, but relieved to have you in his arms. You're it for Topper. He would do anything for you, drop anyone for you, nothing is too much. You alone are what drives him and are the reason he wakes up in the morning. He would never admit it aloud out of guilt, but when he was with Sarah, he always compared her to you. He doesn't fully know why he dated her, maybe because he felt you slipping away when you realized that you no longer wanted to hook up. He couldn't lose you so he tried to replace you, but he quickly realized that was impossible. No one could be you. 

_____________________________________

Topper woke up before you and let you sleep, pondering having you in his arms. Your legs entangled in his, your arm across his chest along with your cheek. In the light, he finally notices you wearing his shirt. A faint smile forms on his lips at the sight. He has you here with him, not with JJ or Rafe or anyone else who's pining after you. You're his. 

You've spent the entire day together on Topper's boat. It couldn't have been more perfect. The hours slipped by without either of you two noticing. Topper has been energized and enthusiastic about everything, all because he has you back. Around ten, you and Topper arrive at the Boneyard for the final bonfire of the summer. You wear distressed white short shorts over a black tank bodysuit with a matching black Chanel belt. All finished with the pearl earrings Topper gave you for Christmas last year.  

Topper keeps you close, his arm around your waist as you walk toward the crowd of teenagers. "I'm so lucky." 

You peer up at the boy with a giggle. "Why?" 

"I have the most beautiful girl in the OBX at my side," he flirts. 

You turn your attention ahead, struggling to hide your blushing. "You sound like Rafe." 

Topper steps around to walk backward in front of you. He locks his fingers through the loops of your shorts and pulls you into his chest. "At least he and I agree on something." He grins, resting his hands on your hips. 

You playfully roll your eyes but find it hard to hide your amusement. "You're such a cheese ball." 

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks," he announces before planting a quick peck to your temple. 

You nod, stepping back toward the shore as Topper holds onto your hands until the last minute. "Okay, I'll find us a spot by the water." 

"Be right there," he winks, offering you a mischievous smirk. 

For a second, you watch Topper jog off to the stack of coolers by the cement wall. Is it possible to be too dependent on someone? You know that if you and Topper stopped talking completely that you wouldn't physically die, but emotionally it would destroy you. You smile, knowing that you two will grow closer because of your fight. It taught you a valuable lesson. It took losing Topper for you to fully comprehend how much you need him. Turning on your heels, you head toward a log facing the shore. It's far enough from the chaos to give you and Topper some privacy, but close enough to still be included in the festivities. You two are both social butterflies, but today has been about you two and you want to keep it that way. You sit down on the log, content watching the small waves crashing against the sand just a few feet away. The light of the moon shimmers on the water, making it looks like lines of crystal. 

"Want a drink, Princess?" A familiar voice asks over your shoulder 

You glance up to see a 

"Wow, you look extra Kooky tonight," he remarks under his breath as he brings his cup to his mouth. 

You glare at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Let's play a game!" He blurts out. "How many items that Y/N is wearing are designer?"

You roll your eyes, realizing how drunk he is because JJ isn't like this. "How much have you had to drink?" 

"Just the right amount!" He answers swiftly before moving on. "My guess is all of them, but I can't be too sure. You'll have to take off your clothes so I can check what's underneath." 

"You wanna sit for a second? Maybe cool down a bit?" You offer, gesturing to the space beside you. 

His expression shifts from carefree to hurt. "Why do you care?" 

"JJ..." You sigh, peering up at the boy with immense guilt. 

"What?!" He tosses his arms up at his sides, losing some of his drink in the process. "You come here with Prince Charming, acting all coupley!" 

 "It's not like that-" You try to explain calmly. 

"Not according to Sarah!" He counters in a shout. You nervously check over at the crowd, making sure no one heard him burst. "You two planning your next trip to Bermuda?!" 

"What!" You whip your head back around toward JJ. "What did Sarah tell you?!" You fly up to your feet, stepping toward him defensively. 

"Did you sleep with him?!" JJ yells again and you're sure others heard him this time. 

"Excuse me?" You gasp at his audacity. 

"After you left John B's, did you go and find him?!" He elaborates with a breathless laugh. He steps closer to you, getting in your face. He doesn't care if others listen or if he's making you uncomfortable. "After you kissed me and slept in my bed, did you go and sleep with Topper?!" 

Abruptly, you feel a hand pressed to your back and see JJ being shoved backyard. 

"Hey! Back off man!" Topper growls, suddenly at your side. 

JJ catches himself from falling after a second of stumbling. "Oh and here he is now!" He laughs, tossing his cup to the side. "Your knight in shining armor!" 

"I think you should go, man!" Topper warns between his teeth. 

Topper's arm slips around you and grips your waist protectively. You watch JJ as he glares at Topper's arm around you. 

"Don't "man" me, alright! Touch me again and you'll lose a hand!" JJ threatens. 

"JJ!" John B calls for his friend as he runs toward you from down the beach. Kiara, Pope, and Sarah are close behind him. When JJ doesn't react. John B shouts again. JJ! Come on, let's go back over to the fire." 

"No! Not until she answers me!" JJ screams, yanking his arm free. 

Pope, Kiara, and Sarah watch in distress as JJ and Topper go back and forth. None of you are sure what to do. 

"Answer what!" Topper barks, stepping toward JJ defensively. You grab his arm, keeping him back. 

"Oh, I'm sorry! Is your name Y/N?" JJ laughs mockingly. "That Kook Academy doesn't do you guys any favors for your intelligence does it?" 

Pope steps around to block off his friend. "Just cool down, buddy!" 

"I knew you were Kook, Y/N, but I would've never marked you as slut," JJ shouts at you over Pope's shoulder. 

Topper breaks free of your hold, charging at JJ. John B grabs Pope and yanks him out of Topper's way. Now block-less, JJ runs at Topper. His face is red with aggravation. You could've never imagined seeing JJ look so enraged. The person he was with you the other night was entirely different. He was kind, gentle, understanding. You don't recognize him. Topper shoves JJ hard enough to make the boy fall back onto the sand. 

Topper tackles JJ into the ankle-deep water, immediately punching him in the jaw. The two grunt, struggling to get the upper hand. John B attempts to pull Topper off. 

"Topper!" You yell desperately. 

"JJ!" Kiara yells from the sidelines. 

"Enough!" John B barks at the pair as Pope runs to assist. 

The crowd by the bonfire starts to figure out what's going on a few yards away and rush over to watch. Pogues and Kooks each cheer for their fighter. Kelce and Rafe show up, pushing through the crowd to help out their friend. 

"Topper! Get off of him!" You plead as your best friend continues to press JJ's head under the water. 

JJ manages to punch Topper in the cheek, making the boy lose his balance for a second. Despite hating each other, Kelce and Rafe try to help out John B and Pope. 

"Guys! Quit!" Kelce commands, pulling at Topper. 

"Top, you'll kill him!" Sarah screams from beside Kiara. 

You want to go stand with them, but at this moment you're not sure if they want anything to do with you. Sarah and Kiara are Pogues. You're not just Y/N right now, their friend. You're a Kook during this Kook vs. Pogue fight. 

The boys manage to yank Topper off of JJ. The blonde Pogue flies up from beneath the surface, gasping for air. Topper falls back onto the sand in a seated position. Topper continues to fist JJ's collar and as he's shoved off, ripping JJ's shirt down the front. You notice the large purple and blue bruise on JJ's chest and freshly heeling cut down his neck to his collar bone. JJ frantically reaches behind himself, searching for something. Then, things take a turn for the worst when he whips out a gun. The crowd that watched the fight with amusement now scatters in a panic. 

"Woah! Woah! Woah!" Topper's eyes grow wide as he starts to scoot back, holding up a hand pleadingly. 

Kelce and Rafe bolt away, John B and Pope rush out words, trying to calm JJ down. 

"JJ!" John B yells at his friend. "What the hell?!" 

"Oh my god!" Sarah's hands fly up to her mouth. 

"That's right! Bet you didn't think I had that did ya?" JJ grins wickedly at Topper. 

"Topper!" Kelce attempts to collect his friend but halts when JJ points the gun at him. 

"Everyone back off!" JJ orders, rising to his feet, returning the gun's point toward Topper. 

Without a second thought, you sprint across the sand. You slide in front of Topper, the waves splashing against you. 

"Y/N! No!" Topper screams as soon as you land in JJ's path. 

"Y/N!" Sarah and Kiara shout your name in unison. 

JJ hesitates when his eyes land on you. You see him lower the gun a little and Kelce takes the opportunity to pull Topper from the scene. 

"JJ please..." you beg of him. 

Your heart is racing, but you're certain JJ won't hurt you. Despite his evident pain and anger toward you, he won't do it. You remember the boy from the other night, the one who spoke to you with such admiration. That boy wouldn't harm you. You know he's in there beneath this tough facade. 

"Y/N! Come on!" Rafe wraps his fingers around your arm and drags you away. 

While he's distracted by you, John B swiftly steals the gun from JJ's hand and begins ushers him away to their circle of friends. The Pogues swarm JJ, all talking over each other. 

 Rafe frantically cups your face, checking on you. "Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." You mutter, glancing over your shoulder, watching John B talk to JJ down the beach. 

"No cuts? Scrapes?" Rafe panics. 

"No..." You shake your head absent-mindedly as you’re too distracted by observing JJ. 

"Are you okay?" Kiara checks on JJ worriedly as you watch from a distant. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine!" JJ rushes out, still agitated. "Fuck this man!" He swears, then his eyes land on yours with surprise. He hand’t expected you to be listening or even care. 

You two stare each other from across the beach. Guilt consumes his features and sympathy breaks you apart as your vision lands on the wounds covering JJ’s torso. Rafe brings you over to Kelce who has Topper catching his breath against a tree. 

"Dude's fucking nuts, man!" Kelce curses, all fidgety beside you. 

As soon Topper sees you coming, he pushes himself off the tree and rushes to you. His arms engulf you as he presses you to his chest. 

He squats down to be at your level, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re so stupid, Y/N! You just jumped in front of a gun! Why would you do that?!” 

“Because it was pointed at you!” You justify desperately. 

Topper's eyes soften. “You’d risk your life for me?! Are you crazy?!” A soft, breathless, laugh escapes him. 

“Of course I would you idiot!” You remark with frustration. How could he possibly think you wouldn't? You'd do anything for the boy. 

“God, I love you so much," he mutters, placing a hand on either side of your head and planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” You check his body in a panic. 

“Yes, yes I’m okay!” He assures you. “Let’s get out of here before things get crazy again." 

Your eyes grow wide. “Agreed!” 

He looks over at you and Topper doting on each other. It makes him even more pissed off. "Great! Go baby him! Tend to your Kook Prince, you Princess!" He yells across the beach. 

John B covers his friend's mouth. "Shut up, JJ!" 

"Jesus JJ!" Pope huffs under his breath. 

You and Topper snap your heads in JJ's direction. As a result, Topper pulls you into his side securely. 

“We'll text you guys later!” Kelce calls out to you both as he and Rafe start backing toward their cars. 

“Stay close to me,” Topper slips his into yours, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m never letting that psycho Pogue anywhere near you again!” 

When you arrive at Topper's car, he opens your door for you. He keeps a sharp eye on the Pogues that remain on the beach. When John B or any of them glance our way, he glares daggers in their direction. Once you climb in, Topper reaches in and begins to buckle your seat belt as though you were a toddler in a car seat. 

“Topper I think I can put on my own seat belt,” you 

“I know, Sweetheart. I’m just..." he stops his action, kneeling beside you. "I guess I’m still a little scared. I was so afraid when that gun was pointed at you, I... I couldn’t breathe. I can never lose you, Y/N,” he rushes out, becoming emotional. 

Your emotions become bottled up as a lump in your throat. You rub your fingers through Topper's hair and plant a kiss on his forehead. His hands glide around your waist to your back, hugging you needly. His head rests against your chest as you cradle it. 

Abruptly, he breaks from you as a thought pops into his mind. “Promises me that if there’s any dangerous situation like that again, you run!" He instructs sternly. "You don’t do anything reckless for my sake!” 

You shake your head frantically, already rejecting his words. “You would’ve done the same thing for me! You basically did!” You justify. 

“I’m seriously Y/N!" Topper stands his ground. Eagerly, he takes removes your hands from his hair and squeezes them in his own. "I could never live with myself if something happened to you! Never again!” 

You want to argue with him on it, claim that if he's going to be protective of you that he must understand that you'll be the same. Yet, nothing escapes you. Instead, you simply nod, not wanting to fight at this moment. 

He nods, satisfied by your compliance. “I love you, you know that right?” 

You nod. “I love you too, Topper." 

_________________________________________

JJ fell into a dark abyss of self-deprecation and destruction after the bonfire. The Pogues all drove back to John B's, but as soon as they got there JJ disappeared as he did the day before. All they can do is wonder where he goes. If they knew that he was at the bar searching for his dad half drunk, they would be stopping a second fight for the day. 

JJ can't help but feel responsible for it all. One minute he has you. You're right there. The next, you're gone, in the arms of Topper of all people. He wants to know if anything from the other night was real for you. Was he just a game to you? You're the Princess of the OBX, you can have anything you want, including JJ if you asked. Is that what happened? You wanted him for a night and then got bored and went back to your fellow Kook. He wishes he hadn't let you down. He wishes you were here. He wishes that he could hold you again and feel you in his arms. Waking up next to you was the best moment in his life and he fears he'll never feel that sort of peace again. 

______________________________________________________

You Topper spend the night at his house, too afraid to be apart. Late into the night, Topper struggles to fall asleep as he holds you. Your back is pressed to his chest as his hands rest against you underneath his shirt you're wearing. Every time he tries to close his eyes, he envisions what could've happened tonight. You could've been shot. Topper could never live with himself if anything happened to you. Moving slowly to not wake you, he rolls onto his back and reaches toward the nightstand for his phone. He begins to scroll through social media and text messages, responding in the group chat between you, Kelce, Rafe, and himself. You've all agreed to go to lunch tomorrow at the Club with some other Kooks from the bonfire. 

You stir next to Topper, making the boy pause for a second. When you roll over still asleep and curl into him, a wave of relief rushes over Topper. 

“Go back to sleep,” you yawn. 

Topper jumps at the sudden sound of your voice. “Shit... sorry Beautiful, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I’ve been awake. I could feel you overthinking," you whisper, scooting closer into his side. 

“You could feel me thinking?” He repeats with a hint of confusion.

You hum, as it makes perfect sense to you. You hear the sound of Topper pushing his phone back onto the side table. He rests his now free hand over your arm that lays across him. After a couple of minutes, you can still feel the tension radiating from him. 

“I’m okay, Topper,” you tell him to ease his nerves. 

“I know, I can’t just help but review the course of events in my head. What if he didn’t hesitate? What if his hand slipped? What if-“ 

“Enough!” You fly up to prop yourself up on your elbow. You stare down at the worried boy with sympathy. "You’re okay! I’m okay! What’s done is done and all we can do is be safe from now on. We’re safe!” You reach up and comb your fingers through the side of his hair. “Okay? It’s just you and me here.” 

Impulsively, Topper extends his neck and slams his lips to yours. You sit stunned as the kiss rides out its course. You and Topper go months without anything intimate and within two days, he's kissed you twice, breaking every ruled you two have made. When you don't react, Topper breaks from you with a startled expression, as if he wasn't comprehending his actions. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry! I-“ 

Before Topper can finish his sentence, you press your lips to his hungrily. You're not sure why, but you need him. Topper is your kryptonite, the bittersweet reality in your life. Forgetting his regret, Topper immediately sits up, resting against his headboard. You take the opportunity to straddle his torso and he keeps you steady with his hands on your hips. It's been ages since you've made out, but it's like riding a bike for you two. You know what each other likes and what gets the other going. 

"I've missed you so much," Topper whispers against your jawline as he moves down to leave marks on your neck. He aggressively attacks your sensitive skin where evidence of JJ remains. Deep down in the back of your mind, you know Topper is parking his territory for JJ to see later. Your skin has become a battleground for the two. "I've missed this." 

"Me too," you pant, silently wondering if you truly mean it in the same sense as him. 

Though you chose to kiss Topper back and want to, you can’t understand why JJ’s face enters your mind the moment you do. As you deepen the kiss with Topper, you chase the sensation he’s giving you. You're addicted to the way he makes you feel, it's familiar and reminds you of a time when you were carefree. Yet, your thoughts remain fixated on JJ. You want Topper, but all you can think about is JJ. 

__________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things @hockeybabe87 @jolomez

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Part 7

Summary: Ransom makes good on his promise and your parents arrive for dinner. But then, you discover something that brings your entire world shattering down around you once more…

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap and violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So here it is, the last chapter to this series! I can’t believe all this spun from @jtargaryen18​‘s Halloween challenge last year, and here we are 6 months later! Of course, I’d love to thank my writing partner from the earlier chapters, but sadly she’s no longer on Tumblr. Without her none of this would have been possible. I love you SG wherever you are. Thank you to everyone who has read and engaged so far and I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing. The Epilogue will follow next week and trust me, you do NOT want to miss that!!

In this, the reader has a sister, however feel free to interpret the Y/S/N element as sibling instead, if that appeals to you.

Word Count: 8.5k (I’m sorry I don’t do short fics, really I am!!)

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 6

 “Will you relax?” Ransom drawled from where he sat, sprawled back on the sofa in the main lounge of the house, his denim clad legs crossed at the ankles, his black cashmere sweater torso melting against the cushions. “It’s just your parents, what’s the big deal?” You weighed your reply but instead smiled, he couldn't possibly understand. He wouldn't. "Let me just have this moment, please." He looked at you, his eyebrow arched before he scoffed, “whatever, Sweetheart. But if you’re gonna keep pacing up and down, can you do it in the hallway? The wood flooring is a lot more hardwearing.” With a roll of your eyes you left the lounge, wringing your hands together. This was the first time in months you'd be seeing your parents and it wasn't lost on you the charade you'd have to keep up despite wanting to somehow plea for a rescue. It was also worrying how they were going to react. Especially following the call you’d made a week or so ago, just before New Year’s Eve.

When you’d dialled the number you knew off by heart, your mother had answered. And upon hearing your voice she had shrieked and then the line had gone quiet until your father had spoken your name with a trembling voice. You’d been unable to answer straight away, your own voice catching, before a sob had burst from your throat and the tears had poured down your face. You’d managed a few, choked words of apologies until Ransom had pushed himself up from the seat he had been perched in, silently observing. He curled his arm over your shoulder, giving you a squeeze as you composed yourself. Eventually, you’d managed to calm yourself down and thankfully your dad hadn’t asked too many questions but had accepted your invite to dinner.

And now, here you were, nervously awaiting their arrival.

It wasn’t lost on you that, in their eyes, the fact you had cut them off was your decision, not forced on you by the man you were now sharing a bed with. And that was your other worry, you had no idea how he was going to behave. If Ransom showed your family the same contempt he displayed to his own, your dad wasn’t the type of man who would stand for it. And then what? But you had zero time to think on it as the doorbell rang. Your heart leapt to your throat and your stomach turned acidic. Ransom poked his head out of the lounge and looked at you expectantly, like you were to answer. Adjusting your sweater dress for the millionth time, you walked to the front door and reached for the knob with a shaky hand. You steeled your nerves and blinked hard to dissipate the tears, and opened the door. For the first time in months you looked back into the familiar eyes of your parents. Your mom’s face was pinched, as if she was chewing the inside of her cheeks and as you glanced to your dad you already noticed the daggers he was shooting at the man behind you. To anyone else it would be enough to make them quake in their shoes, but not Ransom. “Mom, Dad.” Your voice sounded alien as you spoke quietly, your fingers grabbing at the bottom of your sleeves as one of Ransom’s hands curled over your shoulder. "Y/N," your dad replied, and the awkwardness officially set in.

"Aren't you going to invite them in, Sweetheart?" Ransom's voice made you jump a bit.

"Yes, please, come in," you stepped aside for them to enter. "Welcome to, erm, our home."

Calling it that felt all sorts of wrong, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. Besides, it wasn’t like you could call it what it was, your prison. Your father stepped inside followed by your mother, the foyer now feeling a little crowded. Your mother was quick to pull you in for a hug. But it was brief and not the way she used to hug you, no, this hug felt like it came from a stranger. Your dad’s embrace, however, was everything you remembered. Safety, strength and love and you felt yourself melt into his arms, choking back a sob as you pressed your face into his chest. "We appreciate you coming to dinner," Ransom spoke, breaking the embrace you shared with your father. "It's nice to finally meet you both. I'm Ransom." Your dad looked at you as you nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes as he looked to Ransom. “We know who you are. With the news, the papers and Y/N's article, we've probably become more acquainted than you're aware.” He spoke calmly but cooly, gripping Ransom’s outstretched hand with a less than friendly shake, one that would make a lesser man wince. Instead, you saw what you thought was a flicker of amusement on Ransom's face before your dad released his hand and you introduced your mother. She didn’t offer her hand. Instead she gave a sniff and took a deep breath, getting straight to the point as she always did. “Well, this is all very nice and everything but what the hell do you think you’re playing at, Y/N? You disappeared with no trace, we thought you were dead, and then we find out you're not. Instead you’re, with him, choosing not to contact us or speak to us? Forgive me for the brash and abrupt approach, but before we sit down for dinner, we deserve some answers.” Her voice gathered pace and volume as she continued to rail at you, telling you how worried and sick the entire family had been, how thanksgiving and Christmas without you had been awful and whatever else she had on her mind as she spewed her words at you, her face an eyes blazing with anger. You felt sick, never had you meant for any of this to happen, clearly. And you'd secretly hoped Ransom would have seen the devastation he'd caused by his actions, however you knew that was an ill-fated hope just as well. You struggled to speak, the words jumbling around in your head and your mouth bone dry. "I'm so sorry," Ransom sighed. "Why don't we come into the lounge and have a drink or two and we can talk all about it? I know that Y/N was looking forward to your visit and clearing the air."

He looked at you as he ushered towards the lounge, a hidden smugness to his face that only you could detect. He thought he'd just played the hero, the prince saving his distressed princess. “Good idea,” your dad nodded, his hand gently on the base of your mother’s spine, “come on, Honey.” “Straight down, second on your right.” Ransom informed as your parents headed off a little ahead of you.

“Now, remember, what you tell them has to match what you said to Blanc.” Ransom took your hand in his and spoke quietly as you both began to follow your parents. “I. Know.” You grit though your teeth and jerked your hand free of his. He stopped dead and turned to face you, and for the first time ever you saw something akin to fear on his face, you were resisting that much anger. “Y/N...” he started but you shook your head. “You have no idea how much you’ve hurt them or me do you? That or you simply still don’t care.” You hissed before you took a deep breath and drew yourself up tall. “But, we’ll just go in there, spin a load of more lies and that’s it, all done isn’t it?” He blinked before his jaw set and he shook his head. “I’m warning you...” “What else is new?” You sighed. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything and I’ll still be here when they leave.” You stepped a pace or two in front of him and entered the lounge. Your parents were sitting on the couch you'd become very familiar with while Ransom moved straight for the drink cart. "Mr. Y/L/N, can I interest you in a top shelf scotch?" "Mom," you said softly as the conversation between your dad and Ransom faded out, "Ransom and I have a great white wine if you'd like or..." "Scotch is fine," she interrupted you, a stone cold look to her disappointed face. Ransom served the drinks, handing you your preferred wine with a kiss to your head. You watched how your parents interacted with him, the way your father watched every calculated step, the way your mother shot daggers in the two of you as you sat opposite them on the love seat. You leaned forward so as to move a bit away from Ransom, however, he was quick to put his arm over the back of the love seat, his hand able to still touch you. “So, erm, how’s....” “Your sister? Nanna? Granddad? Who would you like to start with?” Your mom took a sip of her drink and you dropped your eyes, your gaze focussed on your hands as they rubbed together. 

"I'm sorry, okay?” You stuttered, shaking your head. “I know you’re angry and upset and you have every right to be but... I didn’t do any of this on purpose.” “That detective man, Blanc, and the police... they said you didn’t want us to know where you were...” “I didn’t.” You choked on the lie a little. “My head was a mess and...” you sniffed as you felt Ransom’s fingers graze the skin on the back of your neck as you looked at your mom. “Mom, please, please don't make tonight continue with vicious jabs and vile glares. I'm sorry, to you, to everyone. I was...." you stopped and centred yourself. "I was lost and I didn't know what to do." "Why don't we just get this out of the way then maybe we can move on with our evening?" Ransom suggested and your father nodded in shocking agreement. "Let's let her explain, Dear. She said she made a mistake and there were good reasons she couldn't come to us, I'm sure. Let's just hear her out." Your father was always the more sensible one. You mother took a shaky breath and looked at you and you swallowed before you started to talk, the lie you had rehearsed in your head slipping from your lips. “I erm, I was having a bit of trouble at work and everything just got too much and... well, I don’t know what happened, a breakdown or whatever,” you took a deep breath, “I just needed to get away, from everything.” “Including us?” Your mom asked and you shook your head. “I wasn’t thinking straight, I just...” "You know, it doesn’t matter what you say to explain because frankly, I won't understand but I do hope that you never have to experience what we went through. Ever." She deadpanned. "I do believe that is my fault, Mrs. Y/L/N. I encouraged her approach and didn't discourage the fact that she wasn't contacting you or anyone she was close with." Ransom sighed, feigning concern for your parents.

You knew what he was doing, the Master Manipulator was coming out in him and you knew there was no going back, no. It was as if Ransom said 'challenge accepted' in winning your parents over. Just, so you assumed, the night would end and you'd be happy in his arms and they'd never think twice about your brief disappearance again. “We hadn’t been seeing each other that long, and my reputation isn’t the greatest. But I should have put my own concerns aside and seen that the way we were going about things was wrong and I should have insisted she reached out. You see, me and my family aren’t close and I sometimes forget that we’re the ones that aren’t normal.” "We hadn't known she was seeing anyone," your mum stated. She was out with her claws, not going to let Ransom nor you off so easily.

"Well, I'm not like Y/S/N, Mom. I don't just bring home whomever I'm taking to bed that month." You'd said it before you could stop it. Never had you said something like that before about your sister, nor spoken to your mother like that. And you didn't miss the twitch of a smirk to the corner of Ransom's lips, telling you he was a bit proud. Surely, you didn't want him to be rubbing off on you in that way. "I'm sorry, that wasn't how I meant it. I just knew I had to be more careful in sharing everything. Like he said, he's not got the best rap, but, after my interview on him, well I guess I just found him intriguing and-“ “Ah, yes," your father now spoke up, cutting you off, “the smear and redact. Believe me, Ransom, we're very familiar with your reputation and our daughter's initial thoughts on you. Which is why you can see how we were a little surprised, once the initial shock of her supposed death wore off, that the two of you were... together." “I understand.” Ransom nodded. “And I would feel the same in your shoes. But, well, I guess after the interview things just kind of spiralled from there. I don’t really know how it happened myself, to be honest, I’m just glad it did.” As if he was sealing the deal, he leaned toward you and pressed his lips to your temple. You sighed and gave him a smile. This bastard was smug enough to start shifting the tone in the room with a metaphorical snap of his fucking fingers and you watched it work on your parents. The ice slowly melting away, the glacial peak softening around your mother. And then the metaphorical snap became a real one as he moved his arm from round you, clicked the fingers of both hands and then slapped his left palm with the underside of his right fist with a flourish as he flashed a smile round the room. “Okay, so....who’s hungry?”

Your parents both raised their eyebrows and as your mom looked at your dad, you saw him shake his head ever so slightly and she took a deep breath, before she turned back to Ransom and you, a small smile on her face. “Dinner sounds great.” "Sweetheart, after you," Ransom politely shifted to the side so you could rise and lead the way. He turned back to your parents, "we wanted to make sure we were able to spend as much time together without the chore of preparing and cleaning up after so we had dinner brought in. Y/N had it all set just before you arrived." You shot him a glare as you moved by him, your mother and father behind you, Ransom pulling up the rear. Sure enough, still warm and catered were four place settings at the table in the large dining room across and down a bit from the lounge. Your parents sat down across the table from where you and Ransom stood, silver dome lids obscuring your eyeline as you sat. Oddly, you'd never eaten in the dining room before. It was your room in the basement, the kitchen table or the coffee table in the lounge. Red wine and cutlery were already set along with water. Your parents and Ransom set their scotch glasses near the wine. Your dad arched an eyebrow at the ostentatious nature of it all and you caught his gaze as he gave you a kneeling smirk. With a laugh, you realized that someone should at least remove the lids, and since you were the host, you rose from your chair and bent over the table a little, reaching for the knobs of their domes. You stacked them together and sat back down, pulling yours and Ransom's as you went.

As you settled down to eat, your parents both complimented the food before a little silence fell as you all ate, the occasional clanking of cutlery against the porcelain plates ringing out across the large room. Ransom made a few comments here and there about the food from the company you’d ordered from being good, as usual, your parents agreeing before a light conversation struck up about the holidays and various other mundane topics, all as if you were close and the conversation prior hadn't happened. Like it was a regular Sunday family dinner. All the time, you spotted your parents growing more and more comfortable with the situation, and you felt yourself relax a little, hoping and praying that things would keep amicable.

And then, after another spell of silence you heard your mother clear her throat. "So, Ransom, what is you do? I never gathered that from…well, from…” she trailed off and Ransom took a dep breath. “To be honest with you, Mrs. Y/L/N, not a great deal until recently. Just another way Y/N managed to help me change my life around." He looked at you with appreciation. "She made me see that living my life riding off people’s coat tails wasn’t really anything to be proud of.” He paused to take a sip of his scotch before he cut another piece of his steak. “Now I’m writing. I have a couple of things on the go and a few from my grandfather that he never finished so, hopefully, they’ll take off.” This bastard! You could not believe the bullshit that so easily sprang from his mouth. It was fascinating and yet absolutely disgusting at once. You found yourself convinced, and not for the first time, that he actually believed the shit he talked. "What's your book about, if you don’t mind me asking?" You father queried, after swallowing down his steak with his wine, saving his scotch for after. “Not at all,” Ransom swallowed his food. “Another area I’ve taken inspiration from, it’s based on a private detective.” He gave a chuckle. “I’ll be handing out a lot of royalties and dedications at this rate.” "Just a private detective?" You pressed, having wondered yourself as he'd told you once before you were an inspiration. He looked at you, smirking a little. “I’ve told you, Princess, I’ll let you read it when the first draft is done.”

Your father eyed you as Ransom spoke of pet names and inspirations. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze, entertaining Ransom's portion of the conversation but you found them quickly fluttering back to those kind eyes that matched yours. At that point, your dad shot you a sweet father-like wink before clearing his throat and speaking.  "So, let's not beat around the obvious, this is awkward." He paused to emphasize his point. "I'll just come right out with it. What could your future intentions be with my daughter?"

"Jesus Christ, Dad!" You surely hadn't seen that coming.  Ransom blinked a little before he cleared his throat. “I’ll keep her as long as I can, Sir.”

At that, his hand curled over your knee, giving a gentle squeeze and you took a deep breath, drawing your back up straight as his hand gently started to trail further up towards your thigh, fingers still hot on your skin through the layer of your thick tights. You cleared your throat, and moved a little, and Ransom removed his hand, a smirk blatantly evident on his face.

“Good to know.” Your dad reached for his wine again, a teasing smile on his face. “I mean the lease has gone on her apartment now and we turned her room into a gym the moment she moved out.”

“Oh purlease!” Your mom scoffed, “a gym. By that he means he has a rowing machine and a bunch of weights that serve as nothing more than expensive door stops.”

At that Ransom gave a full belly laugh, his head tipping back with just the right amount of humour. Not too much to appear fake, but enough to seem like the exchange had genuinely amused him. He almost had you fooled too.

Bastard.

The rest of the dinner past with fairly amicable chat, the ice well and truly broken. Ransom and your father struck up a pleasant conversation about football and then baseball, Ransom confessing that he hadn’t been following either sport much recently but also nodding when your dad suggested that perhaps they could catch a game sometime soon, in a bar. At that you had smirked into your glass, as you knew the thought of going to a place surrounded by a load of loud, drunken members of the public would be Ransom’s idea of hell. The idea that he might just have to follow through on your promise amused you, a lot.

Eventually, your parents both announced that they should be going, and the warmth and happiness that had descended on you began to slowly seep away as you hugged them both good bye. As they headed down to their car, you stifled down a sob as you waved them away, realising you had no idea when you’d be seeing them again. That was on Ransom, for him to decide when and if you deserved it.

But, you’d played his game. You’d behaved. He said he wanted you to trust him, to be content with him. Surely, he would realise that this was the happiest you’d been since he snatched you, and if you continued to behave then he would have no reason to keep you from seeing them for so long again.

With a sigh you turn away from the door and step back inside, Ransom just behind you. You stopped and waited for him to close the door and lock it. He gave you a little twitch of a smile. 

“Well, that wasn’t as painful as I expected.”

You rolled your eyes.

"You were great, Sweetheart."

"Yeah, well, you won them over. I doubt they suspected anything by the time they left." Your words didn't cut him, they cut you. You cleared your throat and shook your head, "anyway, I'm going to go clean up. I'll meet you upstairs."

"What, no 'thank you'?" He piqued.

You turned back to him, "Thank you, Ransom. For allowing my parents to come over."

“That wouldn’t be sarcasm, now would it?” He arched a brow, his arms folding across his chest.

"Oh, no, not at all," you overly pouted, stepping up to him, running your hands over his chest to seal your own sarcastic ploy.

His hands were quick to grab your wrists and oddly there was an air of excitement to your eyes.

“What on earth is there to possibly be sarcastic about?” You continued and he scoffed.

“It’s a good thing I kinda like your sass.”

You simply quirk your eyebrows and give a small shrug before attempting to turn away. However, Ransom still had a hold of your wrists and he kept you rooted near by.

“Ransom, what...”

“Leave the dishes, the maid comes tomorrow. I pay her enough, she can deal with it.”

You scoffed, “you’re such an asshole.”

"Come to bed with me," he asked more than suggested.

Since your little tryst in his precious car a week ago, he'd been far more touchy-feely, needy even. And in your eyes, Ransom Drysdale didn't do needy. However, this neediness served a purpose. You were able to keep him soft in all but one place, manipulating his needs for your own.

“You want me to come to bed with you?” You playfully quipped, cocking your head to one side.

“You want me to beg or something, Y/N?” His voice lowered as he narrowed his eyes. “Because I can make it a demand not a request.”

“Not beg, no.” You ignored his threat. “But a please wouldn’t go amiss.”

His controlling hands moved your arms around his neck before they fell away to your waist. His forehead bent into yours and his nose brushed against the tip of your own. "Please, come to bed with me, baby," he whispered against you.

You were smirking inside as his lips met yours in a deep kiss, his tongue gently flicking through your lips and sliding against yours. 

“Since you asked so nicely.”

It was a quick swoop, one that completely caught you off guard as he pulled you off your feet, his arm around your back while the other was hooked under your legs. His lips were on yours as he carried you to the staircase, not ever missing a beat or step, his tongue gliding over yours as he walked.

You didn't know how the two of you had made it up to your bedroom, and without incident but, the next thing you knew, you were led flat over your bed, his body caging you in.

“You said I did well.” You looked at him and he blinked, his brow furrowing a little. “How well?”

Silently as you waited, hoping he would take the bait.

And he did.

“Very well.” his eyes searched yours and you bit your lip.

“Well enough for me to see them again?”

"If you want, maybe lunch with your mother," he answered, kissing over your jaw and down your neck between each phrase.

You stilled, shock hitting your system and just how easily he had offered that up, you hadn’t even had to try. Noticing your change in body language Ransom paused and looked at you. “What? Don’t you want to?”

“No, I mean yes, of course I do. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. I mean...” you stopped yourself short of saying what you had been about to, that you were his damned prisoner and until a week or so ago hadn’t left the grounds at all in months. You swallowed as Ransom sighed.

"Trust, remember, baby," he leaned back on his knees between your legs. "Call her in a couple of days, set up lunch."

“And you trust me to do that?” You swallowed. “No stupid tricks or mind games?”

"I won't be far behind." There it was, the stipulation. That silent warning heeding a tone left unsaid. “That said, I’m kinda hoping we’re past the point of me having to remind you about certain things to make you come back.”

"I understand."

Ransom shook his head, licking his lips. “No, I don’t think you do.” 

There was a tone of sadness almost to his voice and you watched him, his eyes locked onto yours and then you understood.

This went right back to the core of all this. He wanted you to want to come back. Not to simply do it because you have to. It was the ever present chink in his armour, the one thing you’d been able to exploit.

And, if you were being totally honest, could more than likely learn to live with the situation if you could have some kind of grasp and control, because that’s what this was about. That ever present power struggle and desperation he has within him to be more than people simply assumed him to be.

In a twisted way, you were almost proud to see the difference in his behaviour over the last few months was insurmountable. Whether that was directly down to you or not, you couldn’t be sure, but something had made him tap into that part of himself that could show reasonableness, rationality and, dare you suggest it, compassion.

Whilst you knew you’d never forget how he had taken you, against your will, or the pain and violence he had inflicted upon your body, maybe, in time, you could forgive. 

Because he simply hadn’t known any better.

"I'm not going anywhere," you spoke softly, sitting up to caress his cheek. His evening stubble scratched at your palm.

His eyes squinted shut, holding back an emotional response to her promise. There was so much he wanted to say but he couldn't. He physically could not bring the words out from his throat. So he did what he had always done, or thought he could, and that was to show her. Show her what he wanted to say. His lips pressed into the palm of her hand and as her fingers rubbed along his ear and behind his head, his lips travelled the length of the soft skin of her forearm until he pressed a delicate kiss to the crook of her elbow.

Turning his head, he caught her lips in a soft kiss which grew deeper as he pressed his body into hers, grinding his hardness against her groin. He felt the exhale from her nose against his cheek as his tongue muted the groan from her throat. His free hand skated up her thigh, to the hem of her sweater dress, bunching it in his fist. At that point, her hand gently wrapped around his wrist and he stopped, pulling away to look at her, his brow creased in puzzlement.

“Let me.” She whispered.

He swallowed hard and gave a short nod. She sat up and he leant back as she did, her hand against his chest, guiding him how she wanted him. As her hands fiddled with his flies, his eyes never left hers. When she tugged on the waistband of his jeans, he raised his hips slightly to allow her to pull them down, taking his boxers with them and he gave a slight sigh at the relief his rock hard dick was now free from it’s constraints.

“Feel good?” She smirked at the sound he made.

He nodded, “yes”, his voice gruff and gravelly.

No sooner had she said it, she’d taken him in her mouth. Instinctively, he bucked upwards, his hands settling in her hair, head falling back against the pillow as he hissed.

When his hips rutted upwards a second time, she moved back, releasing him with a pop and he glanced down at her, his face full of frustration but she simply smirked at him.

“Stop moving." 

The control of the situation wasn't his, it was hers and he was fully aware of it as she changed her pace, quick-quick-slow and if he squirmed she stopped.

A roll of his balls between her hand made him shudder. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, “fuck, Y/N!”

She responded by taking him to the back of her throat, and the noise that came from his was halfway between a growl and a whimper as it stumbled from his mouth.

On and on this went, and every time she brought him to the edge and he couldn’t control his movements she stopped. It was a delicious torture, but one he was fast reaching his limit with.

“Fuck, baby, I…” his hands raked through her hair as she bobbed up and down on his shaft, her tongue pressing against the thick vein on the underside of his cock. He moaned loudly, “I gotta…”

"No," she purred, kitten licking the slit in his head, the precum dripping onto her tongue. Her lips enclosed over him again, short bobs until she was making long strides at deep throating him. 

She squealed as his hands tightened around her hair, squeezing at the strands to pull her back but she kept her pace, his hips giving way to a violent thrust to the back of her throat as he came hard, his spend shooting deep, coating her inside. His chest heaved as he came down from his high, not letting up on his grip until he was done trembling in euphoria. 

Then in a beat he flipped her to her back and hand his hands over the waistband of her tights, "that wasn't smart, Sweetheart," he growled. 

His eyes flashed in challenge as she giggled and whispered, "I thought it was." 

The force of him tearing her tights as he pulled them away from her legs bothered neither of them, her thin panties soaked and leaving a wet trail down her leg as he removed them, had him salivating. 

"You think it's funny? I'm gonna see how you like it," he challenged. 

Ransom wasted no time in taking a fast swipe at her leaking cunt with his tongue and Y/N cried out as he flicked the tip of his tongue over her swollen and throbbing clit. Her hands went straight to his hair, her knees practically boxing his ears as she curled her body towards his ample assault. 

His long arm slid up her body, over her tummy between her beasts as his splayed his fingers open across her skin, trying to press her back into the mattress. As she complied, she gave a gripping tug to his longer locks and Ransom emitted an elicit growl against her pussy. 

"Jesus Christ," she cried out, the sound sweet in his ears. 

"You taste so fucking good, baby," he spoke against just above her mounded flesh, whilst his fingers sought a wet refuge. He wasted no time in sliding two in, middle and ring fingers, slipping in a first, then second knuckle deep then scissoring inside her until they were all the way in. 

His lips curled around her clit as hers had done to his head, humming over the bud of pleasure, a pressure she nearly exploded over. 

"Oh, no, you don't get to do that yet," he stated firmly. The command made her twitch under him, her breath audibly hitching in her chest. "You're gonna cum on my cock as I fill that pussy up."

"Fuck, Ransom, please," she begged. 

"It's not funny now is it?" He slipped away from her body, sitting back on his heels and removed his own sweater. "Get naked, Princess."

He watched as she struggled to strip of the heavy sweater dress she wore, a stark difference to the fearful prize he had to himself months ago. Now she was his and he loved every single moment of it. From her sassy, smart mouth to the way she took his dick on demand. Ransom slipped his pants away, the two of them both naked and awaiting what was next. He wanted to flip her onto her tummy, rail her from behind while she took it on her hands and knees, keening at him as he thrust into her. 

But instead, he spread her legs wide and slotted his thick cock between her legs, her ankles locking around his narrow hips as he thrust in and gave a naughty twist of his hips. Slow, deep, nasty ruts into her core bounced her tits just a little and he found the wanton cries of her need to be enticing enough to lap at her nipples and breasts, licking and nipping at her skin. Grinding into her as he licked and kissed his way up her neck to that spot that made her cave in at the base of her jaw, jointed just below her ear. 

Her hands wound their way into his hair again and she gripped the strands, giving a pull back, restraining his neck a bit before she let up, allowing his head to drop a pinch. 

Chills covered his sweat sheened skin as she whispered, "harder" into his ear. His body quivered and his stomach fluttered. 

"Fuck, yes." He pulled out and flipped her to her tummy, like he'd wanted to do before. "On your knees, baby. Let me see that pussy."

She positioned like he demanded, a little sway of her hips telling him she was ready. A swift spank to her rounded ass and she cried out as he slammed home. 

"Oh, baby," she mewled as he filled her from behind, bruising fingertips pressing into her hips. 

Her lips praising him, using his nickname for her on him ignited a fire in his belly, his hips snapping harshly against her, his balls slapping against her clit. But it wasn't his pace and the pressure building in his body that was causing him to bury deep inside her, his head rubbing that g-spot that was making her moan filthy words. No, it was the look she gave as she turned her head to just peer over her should the same minute he was throbbing to cum inside her. 

"I'm...fuck, fucking cum, baby girl," he whimpered, desperately holding back so she could cream over his cock. 

And cum she did, her pulsating walls gripping him in a tight squeeze as she pulled him in with a force, literally crying out his name as she came. Her body practically convulsing in pleasure as he filled her up with his seed. The two of them collapsing against the expensive sheets, his body led over hers, still sheathed inside her as they both sagged and panted. 

As if high on the throws of their ecstasy, Ransom kissed along her back with heavy lips and hooded eyes. He could taste the saltiness of her skin, the dampness of sweet sweat a leaving a wet coating over his lips. And when he could feel the blood return to his extremities, he ever so gently pulled out of her, his body sore and tired. She whined at the feeling of his weight escaping her body, but he was quick to fill that void, replacing it with the heat of his frame as he pulled her close, allowing her head to rest against his bare and sculpted chest. He pressed his lips onto the crown of her head. 

"Sleep, baby," he whispered. "Just relax and sleep."

***** For weeks things were good, maybe even really good. Ransom was giving you more freedom, not yet unattended, but you weren't locked away. He'd made do on his promise. 

You had a great lunch with your mother, at the Country Club, in which he'd set up. He'd driven you there, waited in the bar but could easily keep an eye on you. Whilst he might have had ulterior motives that were slightly more sinister than merely being there to keep an eye on you in case you had a panic attack (the excuse you gave to your mother), all in all you didn’t mind. You, too, didn't doubt he paid the waiter a hefty tip to stay nearby as he'd checked on your table more often than most or necessary, again, you didn't mind. 

But despite his hovering, a point you'd made when you'd returned, he promised he trusted you so to save the pains of an argument, you let it go. You'd kept your own promise, never to drop a hint to your mother or anyone else that you weren't less than a free woman.

As the days neared Valentine's Day, Ransom seemed to be more touchy than usual and more than once you'd caught him softly staring at you. His eyes conveying more emotion than they did. Not unlike the first few nights when things had drastically changed between you in November. And when the day arrived, you both exchanged gifts after an early morning wakeup call that you most certainly did not mind. Ransom seemed genuinely pleased with the new silk scarf you’d ordered, having thought it would be a nice replacement for the one he had left at the mansion and point blank refused to return to collect.

For your gift, he handed you a small white envelope. Giving him a puzzled look, you opened it and pulled out a small card.

‘In our favourite room you'll find, your gift my beautiful Valentine.’

Instantly you felt an uncomfortable cold feeling in the pit of your stomach and you swallowed a little. It was a clue, exactly like the ones he had set for you all that time ago on Halloween the previous year. But, as you blinked and looked at him, you saw the expectation on his face and had to remind yourself that this was different.

This was not the same man.

"Is it at least wrapped in a bow, so I know it's mine?" You asked and he smirked a little, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.

 "Trust me, you'll know when you see it."

With a final look at him, you climbed out of bed and pulled on your silk slip before you headed down the stairs. As soon as you’d read the clue, you knew he meant the study. But, when you opened the door, you started to wonder if you’d made a mistake as there was nothing there jumping out at you, at all.

You started rummaging through the stack of things on the desk, looking for anything that resembled a gift. In your haste, you accidentally knocked small stack of notebooks over the edge of the desk. You rushed to get them and straighten them up, hoping not to mess up the order of things he'd had piled together. The moment the leather-bound journal like book touched your fingers, a jolt of curiosity ran through you. 

You opened the cover and ran your fingertips over the dried ink that sat engraved on the pages, a bold and all capitalized print to the handwriting. Not a surprise from a man who's harsh overture played constantly on the surface. Your eyes scanned and scanned the scroll, a frown creased your brow as you registered the meaning of all his notes.

These weren't just any sort of notes, these were his footnotes for his book. And that now disorganized stack of papers that moments ago littered the floor, you looked at them again and realized there among the typed and printed pieces of paper, was his manuscript. 

Hesitating, you picked it up. The front page was plain bar the words. ‘Murder, He Wrote’ and you scoffed at the fact that was the title of the article that had gotten you into this situation in the first place. Mind you, he had said you were a muse of sorts so maybe that was his way of tribute.

You flipped through, skimming the pages, finding yourself strangely proud if you will, that he’d actually finished it, well what appeared to be the first draft anyway. It was indeed about a private detective, by the name of Arnie Bronze, who was hot on the tale of a missing woman called Lucy Roberts who had vanished in mysterious circumstances.

You skipped on a few pages, the narrative shifted to that of focussing on the so called killer, a man named Riley, and you realised that Lucy wasn’t dead as anticipated, she was being held captive. 

In Riley’s basement.

You felt your stomach clench as you focussed in on a small snippet of dialogue, one that was extremely familiar.

 ‘I like this,’ Riley toyed with the straps to the bra Lucy was wearing, his middle finger tracing the outline of the strap against her skin before his lips followed the same path.

‘You should, you chose it,’ her voice was quiet, but still there it was, that unmistakable undercurrent of disdain she carried for him visibly present, as always.

Riley merely chuckled, ‘like I chose you, huh.’ At that, she blinked and looked at him, and he flashed her a smile. Oh, if only she understood exactly why…

What. The. Fuck?

Was he writing about you? Or had he already written this and was merely acting out his sick fucking fantasy. The answer to that became apparent when you tossed the manuscript down and reached for his book of notes.

It was littered with note after note, graphic accounts of the things he’d done to you, along with little questions and observations, how he could turn that into passages for his book. Your breath began to quicken and you turned the pages faster and faster, not needing to read his notes in the slightest as you could remember every sordid little detail for yourself.

Eventually you found the last page. This one contained two simple lines, the first from the night of Harlan’s memorial when he’d arrived home completely soaked.

Memorial was a shit show, as anything is when the fucking Thrombey’s are involved. Y/N made hot chocolate. Held a conversation I actually enjoyed.

This contained no side note as to how this could be used within his book, almost as if it was simply a journal entry, but you didn’t really have time to dwell on that, as your eyes flicked to the line underneath which carried no date.

Original plan changed, no longer going to get rid of when purpose served. Storyline of book will diverge at this point.

'When purpose served'. Well, it didn’t take a genius to work that out.

You threw the book down onto the desk, the room swimming around you as both your hands covered your mouth in shock and horror. You were sick to your stomach, the bile acid in your stomach turning acrid, and you wanted to wretch. 

He’d meant to kill you.

“So, do you like my gift?”

The voice made you scream and you jumped, turning to face the doorway where Ransom was stood, his sweats hung low on his hips, arms folded over his bare chest as he leaned against the frame.

“What?” you blinked, swallowing, the word nothing more than a trembling whisper. “You mean you wanted me to find this?”

“You asked me about being my muse.” He shrugged. “As you can see, you were much more than that. Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart.”

You couldn't hold back the gag in your throat and you quickly turned into the waste bin by the desk, spewing your empty stomach into it. The bile burned your throat as it came up. With a shaky back of your hand, you wiped away the remnants of your episode and leaned forward on the desk, your free hand palm flat against the mahogany.

You were disgusted, that much was painfully true, but you were now terribly afraid for your life. A feeling that hadn't come over you in four months. You felt just as you had that very night, terrified, alone, and fighting a sense of chill that crept through your body and deep into your bones. Your eyes, big and brimming with tears looked up at him and your mind went numb in processing the situation. No quicker than you had just vomited, you felt a pang of hurt, your heart ripping from your chest as everything settled within you. You had accepted this, this fate that had been laid out for you. You were accepting him and the life you were being forced to live. You accepted the beast that had begun to care. But he was merely a wolf in sheep's clothing, the true monster you'd always known to lie in wait just under the surface. 

Your brows creased and your heart raced. You felt the bubbling of a scream start deep in your churning belly, your own monster vying to climb its up your chest and out of your throat. You were angrily screaming on the inside long before your voice sounded to the outside, piercing the room in a shattering, blood-curdling banshee cry of anger. 

“This…” you picked up the notebook in your right hand, throwing it at him violently, “this is the reason you took me?”

“Yes.” He didn't even dodge the thickly bound object as it hit him square in the chest before falling to the ground. 

“You...fucking asshole.” You spat, angrily swiping your arm across the desk. The neatly stacked piles of papers scattered like leaves falling from a tree as they fluttered to the floor. “And to think, I actually started to believe myself that there was more to you than everyone said, that underneath all of that bravado and narcissistic, downright nasty bastard exterior there was something or someone that maybe, just maybe was worthy of caring for! ” Your voice was loud, echoing off the wall of his study as you screamed at him. “But you kidnapped and raped and hurt me in ways I never thought possible for what? So you could write a goddamned book?”

Hot tears coursed down your face as you trembled, staring back at the utter monster who stood before you, his face stony as you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. “And then you planned to kill me once I no longer served a purpose? Well, tell me, how long have I got?”

“It’s not like that anymore.” Ransom took a deep breath as he stepped forward. He was calm, too calm and instantly you took a step back. “That was my initial plan, yeah, but what I wasn’t banking on was how being around you would make me feel.” He swallowed as he licked his lips. “I couldn’t get rid of you like I originally planned once you served your purpose. Because I love you.” Your mouth dropped open at his confession, utter horror coursing through your veins as you realised what he was saying. The chances of you getting out of this were depleting by the second. He really was completely fucked in the head. “No, no you don’t!” You shook your head, “this...is not love, Ransom, this is obsession, it’s...” He cut you off as he surged forward, his lips pressing to yours. You placed your hands on his chest, shoving hard as you turned your face away, screaming loudly at him to leave you alone. In an easy movement he spun you round, his arms clamping around yours pulling them behind you as he held you in place, your back pressed to his chest as he pressed his lips to your neck. “I know deep down you love me too...” his breath was hot on your neck, voice still eerily calm as his hips pushed forward and you could feel his erection digging into the curve of your spine. “Fuck, this is what you’ve done to me, feel that, Sweetheart? You wrecked me, and now I need you. It’s that simple.” At that he pushed you forward, harshly bending you over his desk, one large hand securing both of yours being your back, your body twisted in a warped recreation of that time he’d used your sweater to restrain you all those months ago. You struggled but he simply twisted your arm further, causing you to cry out in pain and desperation as his other hand roughly hoisted up your night-dress. “You’ll say it eventually.” He stated calmly as you heard that tell-tale rustle of fabric as he pushed down his sweats. “It might take another spell in the basement to make you realise, but you’ll come round.” “It doesn’t work like that.” You sobbed, your voice cracking as his hand let go of your arms and slid up to your neck, reaching round your throat. His fingers curled round your neck as he pulled your head back, his mouth nipping at your neck before he pulled back, his face inches from yours as his icy blues stared locked onto your eyes. They were cold, dangerous and you shook your head, tears pouring down your face.  Your lip trembled as you closer your eyes, taking a deep breath before you opened them again, resigning yourself to the fact that this next line might just seal your fate and wind up with you losing your life. But right now, that would be a blessed way out.  “I can’t love you simply because that’s what you want.” “Oh Sweetheart,” he chuckled, his lips ghosting over yours, “I know that. I know I can’t force you to feel something you don’t, but the only person you’re fooling is yourself. I just want you to admit it.”

“I won’t.” You stuttered, “never, Ransom.”

“Oh, Y/N. Haven’t you learned by now? I always get what I want, including this, you’ll see.” With a harsh thrust forward he pushed inside you, making you scream at the burn thanks to the fact you weren’t ready for him, at all. He gave a groan as he grabbed at your hips, your pelvis jolting painfully into the edge of the hard wooden desk you were bent over. “As my granddad used to quote,” he pulled back before delivering another deep thrust harshly into you, his fingers digging into your flesh as you closed your eyes, scrunching them shut as your cheek rest against the desk, tears leaking from your eyes, “we all become stories in the end.” 

He gave another deep rut forward as he ground into you, his breathing deep.

“Now it’s time to rewrite ours, Princess.”

*****

Epilogue

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

[jetaime-jespere]

Under The Weather

Some pointless fluff that's been floating around my head for a few days. Also on ao3 🙂

It’s not the usual alarm clock that wakes her this time - the tauntingly peaceful melody that she now associates with being ousted from a dream every morning.

In fact, Emily is hardly awake. Her eyes are still sealed shut, she’s still nestled under the covers because the thought of moving is almost unbearable. Even in her sleep induced haze, the only thing she’s fully aware of is just how shitty she feels, like every part of her body has somehow teamed up against her in unison. What started last night as a subtle headache is now accompanied by a persistent rawness in the back of her throat. The same pain has crept in to settle behind her eyes, and now radiates around her head, like a pair of gnarled hands wrapped and clenched around her brain. But that isn’t the only thing - everything just hurts. Her limbs feel like lead, her throat is now on fire, lips cracked and chapped from the winter air. Her mouth is dry as dust as she grapples for the glass of water Aaron had left on her nightstand hours ago - something he’s done since they moved in together.

Cracking one eye open takes monumentally more effort than it should. The wind rattles against the windows, whistling through the bitterly cold February morning and Emily groans at the prospect of even moving from the safety of their warm bed. A glance at the clock tells her it’s 5:40. Aaron’s side is empty, the sheets cooled, but she can hear the steady pulse of the shower, see the steam curling out from under the door. The cloying pull of sleep is too consuming, the glass of water all but forgotten as Emily groans. The notion of having to get up in less than a half an hour is making her stomach roil in protest.

Instead, she burrows herself deeper into the blankets, wishing somehow this day would somehow restart itself. Her eyelids are too heavy to stay open, even though the looming reality of her alarm hovers over her, along with the daunting challenge of making it through the day. Emily remembers the stack of unfinished case reports left on her desk from yesterday, abandoned in the wake of remembering Ava’s ballet class just a few minutes too late to be early for once. That’s about the time the headache started, subtle enough to temporarily ignore as their daughter happily chattered away in the backseat, little legs kicking against the leather upholstered seat - a story about unicorns and fairies, one Emily could probably retell herself she’s heard it so many times. If only she knew then.

The next thing she’s aware of is Aaron bending down to kiss her awake, fresh from the shower and half dressed in an undershirt, his skin still damp as he murmurs good morning . The whiff of eucalyptus soap and his mouthwash only makes her dizzy as she all but pushes her husband away from her with an ill attempted protest against his affection. “Five more minutes,” she croaks. “S’tired.”

“Sweetheart?” Aaron questions even though he doesn’t have to. He’s no stranger to her indifference to early mornings, the way her arms wind around his neck to pull him close most days when he wakes her with the same kisses, the same sweet nothings in her ear. On the rare occasion when they have more time, he ends up back in bed with her, making the most of a few precious moments. Those mornings are his favorites - the ones where he gets to press her into the mattress, get her leg over his shoulder, seal his mouth against hers to muffle the moans he hasn’t grown tired of hearing even years after he first heard them. But this is different. He figures it out immediately, knuckles brushing against her flaming cheek, skin clammy under his touch.

“Hmmph?” Emily shrugs out from under his touch, the cool hand on her burning forehead a reminder of just how awful she feels. “Five more minutes and I’ll get up.”

Aaron laughs softly, already reaching for his phone on the dresser. “Not a chance.”

“I’ll be fine in a half hour.” It’s a futile attempt; Aaron knows her better than she knows herself by now. Emily doesn’t get sick often, maybe once every few years. But when she does, it hits hard and fast, rendering her inherently useless for a day or two, and they’re all a little thrown off kilter without her. Even though her eyes are closed she can practically see him making arrangements - school dropoff and pickup, soccer practice for Jack, ice skating lessons for Ava. It’s also a Wednesday, the one day a week he spends mostly in meetings as unit chief. It’s the day she picks up more slack around the house, handles the after school activities in addition to her own professional responsibilities. It’s a routine they’ve perfected through trial and error over time.

“You weren’t yourself last night,” he sinks down beside her, his weight dipping the mattress down as he pushes some hair from her face. “You barely touched your dinner. You fell asleep with the light on,” he adds pointedly, pressing his lips to his wife’s forehead for confirmation. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Do not,” she argues. It’s becoming harder and harder to challenge him, a battle she knows she’ll ultimately lose. There’s no way he’ll let her out the door let alone into the BAU at this point. Despite the sweat that trickles down her back, her teeth chatter together.

Aaron wraps her into his arms, aware of how she melds against his chest as she seeks the warm comfort of his body. “Do too.” His tone is light, which only manages to frustrate her more. “And you’re staying home today. Don’t even try to argue with me.”

Emily attempts to pull away from his embrace. “I have a meeting too, you know. Jack has practice and Ava -”

“Has ice skating. I know, Sweetheart.” Aaron gently pushes her back down, tucking the blankets around her. “I know their schedule. And yours. We’ll manage.” But he’s already reaching for his phone, dialing a number he knows by heart.

“Who are you calling?” She asks weakly, succumbing to his insistence. The sky has lightened to a shade of dark blue instead of inky black, the first traces of the winter morning starting to peek through the curtains.

“I’m texting Garcia. If she can take Ava this afternoon, I can get Jack to soccer after my last meeting.”

Emily grumbles while he taps out a message as she runs through her day ahead. There are her own meetings, of course, a slew of chores around the house waiting when she gets home, all the little things that accumulate during the week without fail, over and over. Aaron can almost read her mind as he gets dressed, disappearing into the depths of their closet to pluck a suit from the rack on his side. “Things won’t implode without you, Em. We can survive one day.”

From her place in bed, Emily watches him dress, securing the sleeves of his dress shirt, the jacket stretching across his broad shoulders over the crisp fabric of his shirt. Some days, she can’t believe they’ve come this far. Seven years of marriage has brought its fair share of ups and downs, most recently an ill-timed miscarriage in the days before Christmas. She hadn’t been too far along - ten weeks - but December 23rd was spent at her doctor, Aaron’s hand wrapped around hers as the news was broken, their eyes glued to the ultrasound screen. They hadn’t been trying at all. It was a surprise neither of them expected, which only seemed to worsen the blow when it abruptly ended. Emily had been the picture of composed, smiling through her grief on Christmas Eve, distracted by Ava and Jack’s excitement, the endless mountain of gifts to smuggle from their closet under the tree, only to spend the early hours of Christmas morning crying in his arms until he rocked her to sleep. She closes her eyes, wills herself not to think of it. It’s still a little too soon.

When he’s fully dressed, traces of cologne lingering in the air, Aaron gathers a box of tissues and fills a glass of water, setting both down next to Emily. “I’ll bring you some toast before I leave. You need to eat something.”

“You need to wake -”

“I’m already -”

“Mommy?” The voice outside the door tells them at least one more Hotchner is already awake. Aaron drops a quick kiss on Emily’s head, frowning when he notes how warm she is. He makes a mental note to bring some ibuprofen with the toast and opens the door just a crack to find their daughter on the other side, fully dressed, not a hair out of place.

“Where’s Mommy?” He’s met with the round, concerned eyes that belong to Ava. Even at six, she could be Emily’s clone, with sleek dark locks and the same pale skin. Ava is precocious, sharp as a tack yet sensitive, hesitant to trust but loyal to a fault. Her arrival in the world had been dramatic, at one point downright terrifying for a few minutes, shoulder dystocia to blame. Aaron had turned ghostly pale as the doctors rattled off medical jargon he’d only ever seen dramatized on primetime television. Yet it was that same efficiency and urgency that ultimately brought their daughter safely into the world a short time later. The moment she was placed in his hands, Aaron was completely smitten, his world forever changed.

“Mommy isn’t feeling well, Ava.” Aaron explains with an abundance of patience, his tone soft and reassuring. In the days after Christmas, following the miscarriage, Ava had been confused when Aaron took Emily’s usual place at the new, massive dollhouse from Santa, doing his best to display the same enthusiasm his wife so effortlessly showed. He’d uttered the same words - Mommy isn't feeling well - when she protested, complaining about his doll handling skills and seeming inability to make their hair look half as good as Emily did. Even though his placations  held an entirely different meaning then, Ava questioned him relentlessly. Telling a version of the truth had been harder than he anticipated, for more reasons that one.

“Is Mommy okay?” Ava asks, persistent as ever.

“She’s fine, honey. Just the flu. Remember when you had it in Kindergarten? You got to stay home while Jack went to school. Mommy and I took turns staying home with you? You got to eat popsicles in bed and watch TV during the day?”

Ava nods, not fully convinced as she tries to poke her head further into their bedroom. “I guess.”

“That’s what Mommy has, honey. Grown-ups get sick too. So Daddy is going to drive you to school. Aunt Penelope is going to take you to ice skating lessons this afternoon.”

Ava squeals with delight at the mention of Garcia, clapping her tiny hands together, only to have the expression melt off her face seconds later. Then she frowns. “But Daddy,” she whispers slowly, her resemblance to Emily and similar mannerisms uncanny, as if profiling him even at the tender age of six. “You don’t know the Good Morning song.”

Aaron checks his watch and pinches the bridge of his nose as he peers into the hallway. Jack’s bedroom door is still firmly closed, indicating his son is most likely still sound asleep. Waking him is the next battle, one of his least favorite tasks as of late. “What song, Ava?” He sighs, not missing the fleeting touch of amusement that crosses Emily’s face from across the room, the softest of laughs. Even in her current state, pale and tired, clearly more than under the weather, Aaron thinks she’s stunning.

“Mommy and I always sing the Good Morning song on the way to school.” Ava folds her arms across her chest, tapping her foot against the floor. “If you don’t know the words -” Her dark eyes double in size, widening impossibly as she stubs her toe with disappointment. “How can you drive me to school?”

“Honey -”

“Mommy knows all the words.”

“Ava - “

“Daddy.” She challenges, sticking her lower lip out in a whiny pout. Aaron knows what’s ahead. Even though Ava has him completely wrapped around her tiny finger, their daughter absolutely adores her mother, never missing an opportunity to steal a few quiet moments together. He often finds Ava curled in Emily’s lap, listening to a story, or playing dress up with some of Emily’s old clothes. Aaron has caught a few misplaced tubes of lipstick hidden in her dress-up box, ones Emily thought she lost long ago. He’s seen the pictures she draws, the way Ava always draws Emily next to her in each one. It tugs on every single one of his heartstrings, every single time.

“Mommy will teach me,” he assures her, crouching down to her level, bringing her to lean on his knee. “Daddy will do his best to know all the words before I take you to school.” He ruffles Ava’s hair as she beams, seemingly appeased by his effort. “Can you be my special helper this morning and wake Jack for me?”

Her face brightens instantly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face at the thought of what she’s being asked to do - something that, most of the time, she’s actively told not to do. “Okay!”

Aaron grimaces slightly as Ava skips off down the hall. There’s a finite window of time until he’s left to deal with Jack’s morning moodiness, exacerbated by his sister’s surprise wakeup call. But it’s worth the few extra minutes he’ll get to spend with his wife. Emily is now fully awake, looking even more miserable than she had moments before.

“You’re on your own for the good morning song,” she rasps sarcastically. Her voice is hoarse, even as she tries to smile. “Couldn’t sing it for you if I tried.”

“I think I’m going to take her for donuts. Those strawberry frosted ones she loves?” He slips back in bed beside Emily, pulling her into his arms once again. “Distraction at its finest.”

“The ones I love,” Emily reminds him, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Good luck.”

“Right. Hopefully she’ll forget all about it.” Then he remembers just who he’s talking about - a miniature version of the woman he somehow got lucky enough to call his wife, instantly realizing how wrong he is. He’s a goner; he won’t hear the end of this for days.

“I doubt it. But you can give it a try.” Emily snuggles into his chest, savoring their final few minutes of peace.

…

Winter sun streams through the windows, casting the bedroom in a mix of shadows and blinding light.

She isn’t sure how much time has passed - an hour could easily be three, maybe five. Sleep has consumed her, on and off all morning. Yet she’s uncomfortable, alternating between throwing the covers off and disappearing into them, unable to seek enough warmth as she reaches for one more blanket. Everything still hurts, and topped off by a congestion that settles deep in her lungs, rattles her chest with every cough. She almost feels worse now than she did earlier, if that’s even possible.

The house is quiet, so she hears the subtle rumbling of the garage opening, the soft creak of the door leading into the house. Emily smiles to herself - she’d recognize his footsteps anywhere as he makes his way through the living room. He’s undoubtedly picking up wayward shoes and toys along the way, most likely grumbling about the clutter. He’d never admit it (even if she knows it to be true) but it’s one of his favorite tasks. The mess is a reminder of what they’ve built over time, that sometimes things work out just as they were meant to. Even if it means their house will never be spotless.

She pries one eye open as he shoulders through the bedroom door, slipping his suit jacket off to drape over a chair. “You could have stayed at work.” Emily isn’t surprised at all. She knows him sell enough by now.

“I know.” And while Aaron is fully aware of that, there was never a chance he wasn’t going to come home to tend to her. He stayed at the BAU long enough to get things squared away, arranging plans for the kids, and delegating tasks as needed before making a hasty exit. And now, only a few hours later, he’s back. He checks her forehead, refreshes the glass of water on the nightstand and tosses some tissues into the trash. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Emily shifts to make room beside her. “Worse than before, if that’s possible.” She sighs a little when he wraps her into his embrace. Her head falls against his chest on its own accord. “Ava and Jack?”

“Garcia is taking Ava to ice skating. She’s taking her out for ice cream afterward.” He gets a hand in her hair, rocks her back and forth a little bit until she relaxes fully against him. Almost.

“What about dinner?” Emily mumbles, stifling a cough into her fist. It rattles within her chest, reverberating through her ribs. “She needs real dinner, Aaron.”

“I think she’ll live without vegetables for one night, Emily.”

She’s too tired to argue. “Jack?”

“Dave offered to take him to soccer,” Aaron says, patting her back through the last of the coughing fit and grappling for the water glass on the table. “It’s all taken care of.” His hands are soothing, gentle and strong against the sore, stiff muscles. “You sound terrible.”

Emily pointedly ignores him. “What about you?”

“I cleared my schedule for the rest of the day. Tomorrow too,” he adds with a wink, taking her hands in his own when she starts to object. “I’m making it my mission to get you better.” He shows her the package of popsicles he’d stopped for on the way home, tosses the bag away to the floor. “And I got some of these. Just for you.”

The soft laughter that comes from her is accompanied by yet another hacking cough. It’s the little things he does that are the most thoughtful - a pit stop to the grocery store in the middle of a work day is just one example. “Sounds like you have quite the job ahead of you.” But she’s eyeing the popsicles - it’s the first thing that’s sounded appealing all morning.

“You’re not an easy patient,” Aaron chides as he hands her a cherry flavored one, taking a lemon flavored for himself. “One of the worst I’ve ever dealt with, actually.” He flicks her nose lovingly.

“Is that so?” The cool chill of the frozen ice against her lips and throat is a temporary relief, a moment of reprieve. She doesn’t even notice when a little piece of it breaks off to leave a tiny red stain on the sheets. “You’re no picnic yourself, you know.”

It’s his turn to laugh, because she’s right. He’s just as stubborn, the art of rest and healing lost on them both. “I feel called out.”

“It’s because I’m right,” she quips. And she is.

Emily sleeps fitfully in his arms, only waking up once as the sun sets over the trees in the distance. When her eyes drift open, he has the television remote in one hand, the other anchoring her across his chest. “What time is it?” She mumbles, blinking furiously as her eyes adjust to the dim light.

“Close to five.” He kisses her, rocks her a little to wake her up. “You’ve been sleeping for hours.” Aaron sounds almost pleased that she finally got some solid rest. “I’m going to make you some soup. And don’t tell me I don’t have to.” He untangles himself from her, somehow without disturbing her comfort within their bed. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

His fingers brush across her cheek; she’s not as hot to the touch this time. Emily leans into his hand, curling her fingers around his wrist.

“Thank you for coming home.” She hardly sounds any better, certainly doesn’t feel it either. But having him there somehow makes it slightly more bearable, an unexpected silver lining to all of this. And the reverence in his eyes, the same one she sees every time he looks at her, confirms the fact that he’d do it without question. Another example of the unconditional love he’d promised years before when they exchanged vows in Dave’s backyard.

“There’s nowhere else I should be, Sweetheart.”

Four days later, Aaron wakes up with the same aching muscles and raw throat, barely able to keep his eyes open as a new week awaits them. Emily is only more than happy to return his favor.

[footballxposts]

A Blue Forever - Mason Mount

Prompt: Mason proposes.

Warnings: Flufffyyyy af

Recommended listening: Fairytale of New York by Gavin James

A/N: I might do a p2 to this bc I have ideas that need to be released.

It was a dark and frosty Tuesday evening in December, exactly four days before Christmas. As you and Mason, your childhood best friend turned boyfriend, pulled into one of the staff-only bays of the car park situated next to the Millennium hotel, you sighed furiously. He refused to tell you the entirety of your journey where you’s had been headed, and now he was adamant on remaining silent, giving you no indication as to why you were now less than a five minute walk away from Stamford Bridge. Your head was rested against your fist, your elbow on the window ledge, holding your arm upright. Mason quickly took the keys out of his ignition, and flicked the overhead light in between you both on to illuminate your faces. Smiling across from you like a little kid, you turned your face to meet him, your expression still blank.

“Come on, don’t look at me like that.” He teased, taking your free hand into his own. “You’ll find out why we’re hear in a few minutes.”

“Why can’t you tell me now?” You whined and pouted at him, hoping your puppy dog eyes would win him over like they usually do. But it wasn’t working. Mason was terrible at keeping secrets, especially from you, but nothing was going to stop him this time.

“Because it’s supposed to be a surprise and if I tell you now it won’t will it?” he widened his eyes back at you, his little grin still in place.

“No, but you know I hate surprises, Mase. I always have done and always will. So pleeease can you just spare me the anxiety and possible embarrassment and just tell me now?!”

Ignoring your final plea, he rolled his eyes and mumbled a small ‘my god woman’ under his breath before looking down at the phone in his hands. An incoming call message was now plastered across the screen from a number you didn’t recognise, the vibrations and ringing causing the pit that had already formed in your stomach becoming even bigger.

“We’re all ready when you are, Mason.” a woman’s voice sounded, just audible enough for you to hear despite his phone not being on loudspeaker.

“Okay perfect thank you. See you in a minute!” Mason replied kindly. Ending the call, he hurriedly re-locked the device and turned the light above you both off. “Ready?” He asked nervously, his eyes twinkling ever so slightly.

“I mean I don’t know what for and no not really but okay, let’s go.” You replied with a huff, letting go of his hand and grabbing your handbag from down beside your feet. Mason stepped outside the car first, and you followed after as he closed his door, the crisp air hitting you both. As you closed your own, you met up with him around the back of the car and linked arms, making your way to the stadium entrance, blissfully unaware that the best moment of your entire life to date was patiently awaiting you inside.

Upon entering the building, you were greeted by a friendly-looking female, one who you could only assume was the lady Mason had been speaking with on the phone previous to your arrival. Mason engaged in conversation with her as you zoned out, eyes observing the empty grounds and racking your brain for an answer. Thought upon thought filled your mind, but you couldn’t pinpoint a solid explanation. Why on earth had he brought you to not only one of his main places of work but both your childhood club’s historic venue at 9pm in the evening when it wasn’t a match-day and it was so close to Christmas? Literally nothing made sense.

Before you could bite your cheeks or worry yourself sick anymore, Mason’s hand gently squeezed your own as he led the way to the Shed End. Stepping outside and making your way down the steps, you came to one of the middle rows and sat down beside him, not before looking down at him and giving him a stubborn ‘can you please tell me what is going on now?’ look.

“Mason Tony Mount, can you please enlighten me as to why we are sat here on a cold winters night when there’s no reason to be?” you looked at him, clutching at your scarp. “I’m scared now.” you informed him. His eyes looked at your own and he smiled, then diverted his attention back to the empty green pitch in front of you both.

“Do you remember when we were.. I don’t know maybe around ten years old? I think it was a few years after I had just started training properly for Chels at the academy. And we came here to watch the first team play together and after the match you told me you couldn’t wait to see me playing at this place someday, I think you referred to it as ‘with the ‘big boys’, but don’t quote me on it.” He smirked.

Placing your hands in your pockets and leaning back into the hard plastic seat, you took a deep breath before answering. “Yeah of course.. how could I forget? It seems like it was yesterday. And yes you’re right that’s exactly what I said though it pains me to admit it.” you responded, looking down at your lap with a small awkward smile. “What about it though?”

“Well, I told you I didn’t think I would ever be good enough, maybe for the first team back in Portsmouth but never for a club as big at Chelsea even though I was in the academy. But you had faith in me and reassured me even at that age. You said..”

“I said ‘You have to play here Mase. Chelsea’s not just our favourite team it’s our second home.’” Your smile widened at him as you took the words out of his mouth. “I told you.. I remember.” Mason smiled back as tears began forming in your eyes. “And now look at you.”

“And now look at me. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you Y/N. I owe so so much of it to you.” He said, standing up from his position and holding out his hand again. “Which is why I need you to follow me again because I want to say thank you.” Taking his hand into your own, you followed him down to the end of the stand, and made your way onto the pitch.

You went to question him again multiple times but each time he cut you off, not giving away anything. As you came to the end of the tunnel and walked towards the centre of the field, the frosty green grass now with a trail of footprints on it.

“Mason what on earth is going on?” You asked him, terrified as to what was about to happen.

“I’ll tell you in two minutes I promise, but first watch this.” He said, pointing to one of the large screens as the floodlights had gone off. You jumped a little but the little moment of being slightly petrified was about to be so worth it. Now playing was a video compiled with memories of you and Mason growing up to now. You laughed and sobbed as you looked back on all your special moments with such fondness and gratitude. Each part of the video had a message appearing on the screen, with Mason telling you all the things he loved about you and how he couldn’t wait to create so many more memories with you like all the ones you had shared over the years. The final message to appear on the screen was a question. It read ‘you helped make one of my dreams come true. will you please help me make another come true by saying say yes?’

Confused and in shock, you gasped and put your hand up to your mouth, not realising Mason had moved behind you whilst you were reminiscing and distracted. Turning around as only some of the lights came back on, you saw Mason down on one knee and started bawling. He was crying himself, but also unable to contain his smile.

“Y/F/N, You have been my best friend and my girlfriend for the longest time ever now, and I absolutely adore you. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I don’t want it to because loving you to ends of this earth in the greatest privilege I’ve ever been given. Please will you do me the honours of marrying me and being my wife?” He asked, popping the all important question.

“Oh my god, Mase.” You sniffled. “Yes, of course.” You said as he stood up again, kissing you as his body engulfed you in a hug. Just as you broke apart and he placed the most beautifully cut ring you had ever seen on your finger, it started snowing. The snowflakes dancing around you both, tickling your skin. Smiling as your foreheads rested against each other, music started playing and fireworks began shooting up from the roof of the stadium. He really had pulled out all of the stops.

“Ready for one last surprise?” He asked.

“More? Mase my heart, I don’t think I can take it.” You giggled at him.

“I promise you it’s just one more thing and it’s literally only something small.” He responded.

“Okay.” You said making your way down the tunnel after him. You stopped outside the home dressing room. Upon entering, you noticed all the other players shirts had been taken off their usual hanging spots, including Mason’s, which had been replaced by one in only his spot. On the back of a new home jersey was ‘Mrs. Mount 19’.

“Oh wow, nice touch.” You teased him, nudging his side with your elbow as you walked over towards it. Your old jerseys at home only ever had Mason’s surname on the back of them.

“What can I say? You’re not just any blue forever, you’re my blue forever.” He winked.

Best early Christmas present you had ever got from your best friend. Ever.

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

➷ first snow | c.bg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader (older)

genre/s: fluff, lil crack

word count: 2,5k

you and beomgyu have the biggest crushes on one another, yet are blissfuly oblivious until that mid-December evening.

an: This is my first piece; please be kind hehe. I’m aware it’s bad, but I hope to do better in the future! 

Beomgyu’s teeth clenched down on the chopsticks in his mouth with such force, it’s surprising that they didn’t shatter. The samgyeopsal restaurant was as vibrant as any other restaurant of it’s kind in Seoul – teeming with customers who, yelled their orders to the owner as they grabbed seats at the round metal tabletops and downed the soju in their shot-glasses as they roared with laughter amongst their friends. At the moment, there was even a company dinner taking place at two of the tables in the far corner, and a female customer crying with five empty beer bottles on her table close to the window.

The restaurant was as bustling as ever, so much so that you weren’t even able to hear yourself think; but Beomgyu could not tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

It was the first time in a while that you and the boys had been able to meet up. They had just had a comeback, weeks of promotion and even award ceremonies to attend; so you hadn’t even been texting much. It was safe to say, that the dinner that night was very much anticipated by all of you – especially Beomgyu, who had insisted on the get-together under the pretence of commemorating the younger members becoming adults.

The time apart had made him realize just how he felt about you. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly it was (heck, it could have been since the very beginning) that he fell for you, but what he was now certain of, is that whenever his heart raced upon your visits to their dorms or their performances, or simply just having you near –  it wasn’t from a chronic illness. Thank goodness.

But now he had to sit, watching you and Yeonjun talk to one another the entire night as if you were inseparable. It left a nasty after taste in his mouth, but each time either of you looked at him, he’d flash a smile and either nod, or mumble a ‘yes’ almost as if he were able to pay attention to any of the intricacies of what you were talking about. He was utterly jealous, but there was nothing he could do about it.

To make it worse, you looked absolutely stunning. He noticed everything – the new pastel pink blazer, which complimented your skin; the new elevated sneakers, which made him giggle, he knew how your tiny little self pouted whenever hanging out with them. You had gotten bangs, which he wasn’t a fan of – he saw less of your face now, and you even wore a new fragrance – he noticed everything. After all, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off from you since you arrived at the restaurant.

But when he imagined that you had done all of those things for Yeonjun, it stung.

Taehyun seemed to notice, the dark brooding energy eminating from his hyung was very hard to miss, and a knowing smile stretched across his face. “Hyung, what’s up? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

It took Taehyun having to actually wave his hand infront of Beomgyu’s face before he actually even realized Taehyun said anything at all, turning to face him with a ‘hmm?’ and a distant smile. Taehyun sighed. “Why don’t you just speak to her?”

Huening, who had been deeply engaged in an eating battle with Soobin, seemed to overhear this discussion and snickered before calling Soobin to listen in as well. “Oh? Beomgyu hyung has a crush on (Y/n) noona?”

“Beomgyu? (Y/n) noona?” Soobin gasped, in genuine surprise. “Did I miss something?”

Beomgyu’s face heated up like Florida in summer. He had never been more grateful for his long, floppy brown locks than right in that second. “How can I speak to her? Yeonjun hyung has been hogging her attention span ever since we got here.” He sighed, crossing his arms and pouting a little when you laughed at something Yeonjun said.

“Hyung,” Taehyun sighed, pursing his lips together. “You’re just being jealous and dramatic right now. We’ve all spoken to Noona this evening, it’s only you who have been giving her the cold shoulder. And obviously Yeonjun hyung and Noona have more to talk about, they’re taking the same courses and have the same friend circle.”

“Yeah, hyung, they’ve always talked plenty. You haven’t noticed?”

Maybe they were right. Maybe he was just being silly. Maybe you had attempted to make conversation with him on more than one occasion and maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been as nice about it as he had thought he was. The truth was he was, he was insecure. Albeit he was aware of the feelings he had toward you and wanted to run to you the minute he knew, he had no idea how you felt. So when witnessed how close you and Yeonjun were, it brought him back to reality.

It made him realize that just because he liked you, it didn’t mean you felt the same – and it scared him. He knew Yeonjun was a great guy, who would definitely treat you as you deserved; like a queen. So if it was that you liked Yeonjun the way he liked you, he had no confidence to tell you the truth.

Seeing your rosy cheeks push up as you laughed at something Yeonjun had said again, he lowered his gaze into his soju glass and swirled around the bit which remained. After contemplating for a moment, he downed the remnants and grabbed his jacket off the back of his seat as he pushed it back. There was no way he could convince himself to confess to you. So instead of hurting himself by sitting there, he’d leave, is what he thought.

Soobin, who had initially been as oblivious as you were to Beomgyu’s feelings, knew exactly the kind of distress he would be putting himself through (after Taehyun and Kai had brought him up to speed, of course). When he saw Beomgyu get up, he placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a warm smile; meant to persuade him to sit back down.

“I’m pretty sure you and I know that Yeonjun and (Y/n) noona are pretty great, and that if they did have to get together, they’d be a pretty sick couple too,” he said, pouring Beomgyu and himself another drink.

Beomgyu grimaced. “Wow, that makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, Hyung.”

“Ah, no,” Soobin laughed, taking a sip from his glass before placing his hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder again. “What I mean is, that’s exactly who you are, Beomgyu. You’re kind and selfess; always prioritising the feelings of others, even over your own. Yeah, you’re really playful and annoying sometimes, but that’s just how you show your affection. And I’m sure that if you just tried, you’d been surprised at the outcome. Don’t go assuming how people feel.”

Huening grabbed Beomgyu’s waist and gave his tummy a hearty rub. “You’re great enough as you are, Hyung!”

As if on cue, your drunken mumbling cut them off. They all laughed, finding you extremely adorable. Your head, which had been resting on your arm, swayed left to right for about two minutes before finally slipping and falling to the table. Both Yeonjun and Beomgyu stuck their hands out to catch you before that could happen though, Yeonjun looking at Beomgyu in confusion.

The rest all passed glances at one another. Taehyun slapped Soobin’s shoulder, and Soobin sighed reluctantly.

“Well, I think it’s about time we head home. Huening and Noona are out cold,” he laughed, before slapping money down on the table and throwing Huenings arm over his shoulder. Taehyun got up to get Kai’s other arm, and Soobin looked to the three of you again; none of which had moved a muscle since. “Ah, Beomgyu, why don’t you take Noona home tonight? Hyung should come with us since we need someone to get a cab and get into the dorms for us.”

“But why can’t Beomgyu -”

Before Yeonjun could say any more, Beomgyu had already made his way to your side of the table and had slung your coat and bag around his shoulder. He carefully moved you onto his back, making sure not to wake you. You weren’t asleep though.

“Yooou smelll liike......Beomgyuu!” you giggled in your drunken stupor, tightening your arms and nuzzling your head into his neck. The poor boy’s heart feeling as if it could leap out of his chest.  

The walk back to your apartment was silent, but not the awkward kind. It was almost mid-December; around the time that the first snow was expected to fall. People were either already home with their families, or making their way there, setting up Christmas decorations and planning the menu for their Christmas lunch. Beomgyu wasn’t able to go back to Daegu this year, but the comfort of the silence and your bodies pressed together – knowing that you were there with him, holding onto him tightly – it was enough for him.

The sound of you mumbling broke him from his trance, the sensation of your breath hitting his neck sending chills down his spine.

“Hmm? Are you sobered up a little now, Noona?”

Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you pushed yourself up and stuck your head over his shoulder. Realizing that it was in fact Beomgyu carrying you, you huffed, kicking your legs like a toddler so that he’d let you down. Thinking that was your answer to his question about your sobriety, he came to a stop and carefully set you down.

You shoved his back, stumbling a little. “I can get back home on my own.”

He had ignored you for the entire evening. Tonight was the first night you had been able to hang out together in months, but he didn’t even pay you any mind. You had been harboring this one-sided crush on him not long after you had first met one another. And it was driving you absolutely crazy.

For a night out drinking at a samgyeopsal restaurant, you had bought new clothes, made an appointment at the hair salon, carefully studied make-up tutorials on the internet and had spent the entire 2 days prior mulling over whether or not you should just tell him how you feel. It all seemed for naught, though, because the fool didn’t even look at you!

After shaking your head a bit to clear your field of vision, you pushed back the hair in your face and stuck out your arm in the direction of you apartment building in hopes that it’d keep you walking straight. You were good for about two or three steps, before the heel of your shoe got caught in the tar of the road and you slipped right into Beomgyu’s embrace.

“Noona, what are you doing. You’re still a little drunk, let me take you back.” He sighed, lifting your arm up over his shoulder. “Plus, do you have any idea how late it is? It wouldn’t be safe to let you go alone anyway.”

You scoffed, grabbing your arm back from his grasp. You turned to him and squinted, the same liquid blurring your vision giving you the courage to grab his face in your hands. Apparently alcohol wasn’t even enough to boost your confidence though, because after staring into his pretty brown eyes which seemed to sparkle even when laced with confusion and amusement, you sighed, throwing your hands down, before continuing to stumble up the street.

Damn boy is unrealistically gorgeous, and for what, you growled, mostly to yourself, but not entirely.

Beomgyu grabbed you arm and spun you around, with a big fat smirk plastered over his face. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

Your face quickly turned a deep shade of red, realizing he had heard you.

“What I’m saying, is that apparently what you have in looks you lack in brain cells.” you snapped, pulling your arms out of his grasp again. Only this time, he didn’t let you go so easily.

“You... think I’m gorgeous.” He smiled, laughing in such a way that you were almost certain it was he who was drunk.

“I just called you an idiot, and you’re focused on that?”

“You could call me Elena Gilbert and although I’d want to hit you in your throat, I’d still be completely in love with you.”

Oh, but how the tables had turned. You rested your arm against a car parked in the street, as a precautionary measure, in the case that you collapsed either from the alcohol or the disbelief. Beomgyu shoved his hands into his pockets and locked his eyes down onto the tar below his feet, lip between teeth and hating himself intensely. “What did you just say?” you asked, half giggling from the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

“I-I mean, I know you probably have a crush on Yeonjun hyung and all...” he said, voice breathy and unsteady as he pulled a hand from his pocket and placed it at the back of his neck. Your face fell and you felt almost completely sobered up now, standing a little straighter. “So it’s probably wrong of me to confess, b-but if I don’t do it now I might regret it, and Choi Soobin said something about me being a great guy – I mean I know, but -”

“So what I’m getting in between that attempt at self-praise, and the numerous attempts which are probably still pending, is that you think that I have feelings for Choi Yeonjun, right?”

“Well you spent all night talking to him, laughing at all those jokes that I could do better.”

Somewhere in between your back and forth banter about how Yeonjun was funny and how you didn’t have a crush on him, little flakes of snow had began their descent from the pitch black sky above. The two of you hadn’t noticed until the fall had become a bit heavier, some of them collecting in your hair. You both fell silent, and he joined you as you leaned up against the car.

Together, you watched the flakes make their journey down to the street, where they lumped up, covering the trees and rooftops in a white blanket. Others had now joined you in the streets, excitedly gasping and snapping photos with friends and family in the first snow of the year. The laughter of little kids could be heard too, running around with red noses as they flung one another with little clads of snow. It was magical and warm, and there was no one better you could imagine to have by your side.

You let out a sigh, your breath making a thick cloud float in the air. “I like you, a lot. I missed you so much during all these months apart, and right now, I feel like I’m the happiest person alive to know that you feel the same and that I get to be here with you.”

There was a silence again.

Beomgyu took your hand, slowly intertwining your fingers as he placed them into his coat pocket. As his thumb traced across yours, he whispered something which had your breath caught in you throat.

“There’s cheesecake in the dorm refrigerator, want to come?”

[moonlightsanctuary]

Kuvira x Reader The Christmas Conundrum Part I

SOOOO it has been a while. So sorry this is late, had a lot of crazy stuff happen to me and this should have been out since Christmas but unfortunately i ended up sick with COVID, and a bunch of other health issues. So i am just now posting this. It ended up being so long that i had to split it up into two parts. With that being said special shout out to @ellsss and @goldfyshie927 for their honest feed back and encouragement. They is cool peeps you should go check out their blogs. This fic was suppose to be for a commission for special someone but we fell out of contact. @kuvirasrubberducky hopefully this finds you well and i hope you are taking care of yourself. 

Disclaimer: As always there will be smut so you have warned! -.-

Summary: After returning to Zaofu under the care and guardianship of Suyin Beifong, You and Kuvira have to readjust to your old life before the earth empire. Although Kuvira has proven her worth and dedication to try to amend the damage and pain she has caused she still feels alienated from the Beifongs. The reader tries to help Kuvira face the deeper issue at hand and help reconcile somethings she has long kept hidden from the world including Suyin and you. Will your plan of attending Suyin’s Christmas celebration go smoothly or will the curse of the Beifong family drama hit its peak and become a melting pot from a very salty Beifong who refuses to forgive and move on? Find out for yourselves! Set after Ruins of the Empire. 

Kuvira X Reader - The Christmas Conundrum Part I

It was the most wonderful time of the year. You watched the citizens of Zaofu go about their day preparing for Christmas. Decorations lined every street corner and shops, garland decorated every lamp post, and colorful lights glimmered in every snow-covered pine tree. You clung to your coat tightly, feeling a cold breeze blow past you as snow drifted down from the sky coating the land in a serene winter ambiance.  Yes, it was the most wonderful time of the year, but not for everyone…especially not for Kuvira.

Since the reunification process and the downfall of the earth empire, things have not been easy for the former great uniter. From the time the two of you were put on house arrest under the care of Suyin Beifong, the transition from total freedom to full restriction has been a very troubling and taxing situation for the both of you. The relationship between Kuvira and Suyin was very rocky but both seem to have come to some sort of common ground. Though Suyin and Kuvira had gotten better and the two seemed to have learned to be cordial around each other didn’t mean that the two were fully amended. The relationship was far from what one would call normal. Suyin and Kuvria would still interact in a way that was very awkward or tense. Almost as if they were both walking on a very cold and thin layer of ice. Regardless, you remained by her side since the very beginning and nothing has changed since the day you joined her cause. You loved her, and no matter what the two of you have been through over the years, nothing has changed.

It was the first time in three years Kuvira had been back with the Beifongs for Christmas. Suyin, a person who was always known for her grand gestures decided to host a celebration for the upcoming holidays. Suyin had taken it upon herself to send out invitations to almost anyone who was a close friend of the matriarch including her half-sister Lin Beifong. You expected Avatar Korra and her girlfriend, the Future Industry CEO Asami Sato to make an appearance as well. This celebration would certainly be very interesting, you thought to yourself growing increasingly worried about what tonight’s events would have in store for you.

You were both welcomed back to the Beifong household and given personal invites from Suyin herself for tonight’s event. You were grateful for the invite knowing full well that Suyin was doing her best to offer an olive branch but you couldn’t help but wonder what her intentions were. As the hours grew close you felt the dread building up inside you that grew stronger as time passed. You knew you were both in for an awkward situation and wouldn’t be surprised if tonight’s events would be emotionally draining on both you and Kuvira. You began to mentally steel yourself for tonight’s events, hoping and praying that everything went smoothly.

When you returned to the Beifong estate you immediately noticed the change in the atmosphere from its usual peaceful operations to the frantic movements and panic as both guards and servants shuffled past you in a hurry. You assumed the Beifong household servants and guards were bustling about getting ready for the party. You walked past the entrance hall, heading towards the parlor.  You paused as an orderly carrying a large box nearly knocked into you. Quickly, you stepped aside to allow them room to slip past you. After the orderly mumbled an apology before rushing away you proceeded to enter the parlor. At the center of the chaos stood the matriarch of the clan herself Suyin Beifong.

Suyin stood at the foot of a tall pine tree with her back to you as she mulled over the tree’s decorations. You approached the matriarch carefully, watching as Suyin used her metal bending to put up last-minute decorations on the tree.

You stood quietly behind Suyin watching her use her bending to take out a large metal star from a colorful box. Suyin held it in the air and turned her attention back to the tree, looking it over carefully. You eyed the star, astonished by its beauty. The design was simple yet elegant. With unique carvings that covered the entire surface of the star and jewels that lined the outer edge. At the very center of it was a star-shaped ruby. It seemed to glisten from the Christmas lights that were wrapped around the branches of the tree. Suyin hoisted it up higher in the air, playing with the weight of it as she maneuvered it up to the top. Very gently and with much concentration she settled it at the very top of the tree, carefully setting it down and making sure the branches would hold its weight. Once she was convinced that the decorative piece was secure Suyin released it from her hold, letting her arm fall to her waist.  It was quite a sight to see, just admiring the beauty of the tree put you more in the Christmas spirit that was almost nonexistent up until now.

You took a step forward to get a better look at the decorations. The gold garland that wrapped around the tree made the Scarlet and gold ornaments appear vibrant. Silver metal candy canes and pine cones also hung from its branches. The metal was smooth and reflective causing the ornaments to sparkle from the nearby Christmas lights. It was breathtaking, there were no other words to describe it.

“It’s so beautiful…” You said out loud, not hearing yourself speak. You watched as the matriarch flinched from your words, turning quickly on her heels to meet your gaze that was still fixated on the tree. It seemed the older woman was not aware of your presence despite her seismic abilities.

“Oh, Y/N!” Suyin said, pressing a hand to her chest to ease her already fried nerves. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You turned to address the matriarch, noticing how she looked a little worn and weary. You assumed the stress was caused by the intense preparation of tonight's events and believed it was beginning to eat away at her. That was Suyin. If it wasn’t up to her standards then it just wasn’t worth it. You had to give the older woman props, the amount of time, effort, and dedication she put towards her projects were quite impressive. Accepting only the very best and nothing less than that. It’s no wonder Kuvira was so dedicated and hardworking. Suyin must have pushed her hard as her protégé. It made you wonder what life was really like for Kuvira growing up. Up to this point, you only heard the few scant stories that Kuvira had shared with you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.” You quickly cut in after realizing you were staring. “I was just watching you put up the decorations and I have to say the tree looks marvelous!”

At this Suyin breathed a deep sigh. Detecting an undertone of worry, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the older woman. “Is everything ok?”

“With me yes, everything is fine but I can’t help but worry about…” Suyin trailed off, causing you to stare at her with brows knitted in concern.

“Worry about...what?” You pressed, genuinely curious.

“Well... worried about getting everything prepared for tonight before my guests arrive. there are still some things I need to address such as the menu and the entertainment. Lin should have been here already, but her travels were delayed from the approaching snowstorm. So she said she will be here in a few hours.” Suyin sighed at the unfortunate news. She hoped that the storm wasn't too serious but knew Lin could take care of herself. In an attempt to take her mind off her stress she diverted the topic. “I hope you and Kuvira will be there.”

You turned to meet the Matriarch eye’s, the exhaustion evident on her features, but you could see the concern she withheld. “I plan on being there, however, I can't say the same for Kuvira…”

Suyin frowned, turning her attention to the tree, her shoulders sagged at your statement, as if your statement confirmed her fears. “I really want Kuvira to be there, it would mean the world to me. But…” Su grew quiet, her sight fixated on the tree.

Despite her appearance, you could see that Suyin’s mind was somewhere else. “Su…?” You said, trying to revert her attention back to the conversation.

Suyin cast her eyes to the ground. You noticed her hesitation to speak. For someone like Suyin, the behavior was rather odd. She was always quick to speak her mind, not caring what people thought about her. It was an admirable trait but also a flaw of hers.

“I am trying Y/N…” Suyin finally spoke after a few moments of silence.

Instinctively you took a step closer to her, careful to keep enough distance so you didn't feel like you were trying to invade her space. It was more out of care and concern than invasive.

“What do you mean?” you asked gently.

Suyin turned to meet your gaze, you could see the confliction flittered across her face as she spoke. “I know Kuvira has never been one for family gatherings. I mean how could she? Just look at what her parents had instilled in her at such a young age… and I’m afraid… I’ve only added to it.” Suyin turned away from you, it seemed that she was too ashamed to even look you in the eyes. “It’s no wonder she doesn't completely hate me… I wouldn’t be surprised if she did...”

You noticed Suyin’s expression hardened, the idea that Kuvira had possible feelings of underlying hatred towards her was eating away at her. Though Suyin was well versed at keeping her emotions in check, the suppressed hurt you saw behind those emerald green eyes betrayed what the older woman was truly feeling and trying to keep hidden.

“Oh, Su… She doesn’t hate you.  How could she? You were the only mother she has ever known.” You said in hopes to help quell her fears. “I know things haven't been easy for the two of you since we were placed under your care to serve our sentences, but hate is not something I think she feels towards you. I just think... these things take time.”

“How could she not!?!” Suyin rounded on you. The action was so abrupt it caused you to take a step back, afraid that your words of comfort had accidentally upset her.  “I had just as much as a part to play in her actions and for what? If I just listened to her and not brush her off… involved her more with the family - treated her more like a daughter?” Su spoke quickly, trying her best to rationalize Kuvira’s behavior and her direct involvement.

“Honestly I think she is angrier at herself at this point.” You spoke up, feeling that it was necessary. “She blames herself for what happened.” It has nothing to do with you.”

“Then why do I get the feeling that it does?” Suyin asked you, trying to make sense of everything.  Her eyes burned with raw emotion. “It's been months since the two of you were brought under my care and yet she is still distant with everyone, including me. She doesn't talk to me the same way she used to. She hardly eats with us, and when she does she doesn’t even bother talking to anyone. I can barely get her to hold a conversation with me that is not related to the weather or how she is doing... I had hoped that by inviting her it would show that I’m trying to reach out to her- that I’m trying to bring her into my family. I just… I don’t know what else to do.” Suyin seemed legitimately distressed as she spoke.

You stepped forward, placing your hand on Suyin’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s not you Su.” You said softly, trying to reassure her that she was not the problem. “Kuvira is at the point where the guilt is just weighing heavy on her.” You paused, taking a moment to ponder how much information you wanted to share without getting too deep into details. You knew Kuvira was rather autonomous and preferred to deal with her own issues herself. You wanted to respect that.

“Kuvira is just caught up in her own emotions. I can barely get her to talk to me so believe me it's not one-sided. She’s…” You trailed off debating whether to tell Suyin or not, hoping the information you were about to share wasn’t too much... You knew if Kuvira was here she would object. At the same time as Kuvira’s guardian, you felt that Suyin needed to know. “Su, She’s… she’s been crying in her sleep… she’s been having nightmares.”

“Kuvira’s having nightmares again?” Suyin interrupted, her eyes widening. You could tell that she wanted to press you for information. You were worried you may have swung open the door for her to do just that. Instead, Suyin pursed her lips and knitted her eyebrows, her eyes searching your face for answers.

“Yes, she has.” You reaffirmed, hoping that she didn’t begin to drill you with questions you knew you couldn’t answer. “I really shouldn’t be sharing this with you but as our guardian, I feel that this was something you should be aware of.”

“No, of course. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I appreciate you telling me, I just… I’m worried about her.” Said Suyin, doing her best to keep her voice leveled from her growing concern. “She’s had night terrors growing up, mostly about her parents. I didn’t think she still had them.”

“Well she gets them every so often but they have been rather frequent as of late. I have noticed that Kuvira tends to get like this around the holidays.”

“Well, Kuvira has never been fond of the holidays. From what I've noticed over the years they seem to get her depressed. Probably stemming from her abandonment.” Suyin took a deep breath to help her relax before addressing you again, “You don't have to worry Y/N. I won’t tell her anything. You have my word.” Suyin said firmly.

At Suyin’s reassurance, you breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that Su was not being intrusive. “I appreciate that, thank you.”

“I appreciate you being honest with me. You and I both know how Kuvira can be about these things. Though I have noticed that she has been looking rather… exhausted lately. I had asked if everything was ok, but she brushed it off as if it wasn’t anything important. I should have known better… Kuvira has a habit of undermining her problems.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle in agreement, knowing Suyin spoke with such accuracy. “Ain’t that the truth. It would take a rope and a sledgehammer to get anything out of that thick skull of hers. I swear she is so stubborn sometimes.” You shook your head, “I wish she wasn’t though. It’s not helping her and I think deep down she knows that.”

“Please!” Suyin scoffed, fixating you with an annoyed look. “I’ve been trying to break through those platinum metal walls that she surrounds herself with for years. You might as well grab a plasma saw and start drilling with me.” A small smile appeared on Suyin’s lips.

You laughed at Suyin’s statement. You knew it was in jest but had to admit the matriarch’s words held much truth. The sounds of footsteps scurrying in caught both of your attention, you turned around to see a guard rushing in. He stopped abruptly and stood at attention waiting for Suyin to address him.

“Is there something wrong?” Suyin asked the guard with a raised eyebrow.

“Madam Beifong, an airship belonging to the Republic City’s chief of police, has been spotted by the watchtower. Do we have permission to allow them to land?” The guard asked rather stiffly.

Suyin’s eyes lit up. “Lin’s here? I thought she would be longer. Yes, I grant permission. I will be there momentarily to meet with her.”

With that being said the guard saluted before turning on his heel and running back out from the direction he came in from.

“I’m sorry Y/N I have to cut this short. I need to speak with Lin. We have much to catch up on and no doubt she will want a full report on the progress the two of you have been making.”

“Oh, I understand. It’s not a problem. Besides, I need to get back to my quarters to grab a few things. I’ll see how Kuvira is faring.” You reassured Suyin.

“Thank you, Y/N. If you can talk her into coming to the party tonight it would mean the world to me. I want to see the both of you there.” Suyin said lifting her hand and placing it over yours where it rested on her shoulder, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“I will figure out what to will do with Kuvira. I might try to have a private chat with her over tea or something later when this is all over. I’ll have some chamomile tea brewed for her and sent to her quarters, later on, to help settle her nerves. Hopefully, it will help with the sleep problems for the time being until we find the underlying cause.”

“That sounds like a plan.” You smiled in agreement. You turned to walk away to leave Suyin to meet with the chief of police when a hand shot out to seize yours. You stopped, turning around to see Suyin smiling. “Really, Y/N... Thank you. I appreciate it.”

You nodded your head, feeling Suyin squeeze your arm gently in appreciation before she released you, arm falling back to your side. With that you took your leave, walking back to the living quarters that you shared with Kuvira. You wondered what she was up to. Knowing her probably some rigorous dance routine or bending forms.

When you entered your quarters you found Kuvira standing by the window watching the snow drifting slowly to the ground. When you closed the door you noticed her stiffening but as soon as she heard you announce that you were back you could see her visibly relax. You approached her from behind wondering what she was so focused on. She made no attempt to turn around to address you instead her gaze remained locked on the view outside the window. You breathed in a deep sigh, you hated when she got like this. Kuvira had a habit of retreating into her walls. Even worse into her head, blocking out everything and everyone, including you. Though she was physically here with you, you could tell that her mind was millions of miles away. You often wondered what went through that brain of hers. Her thoughts must have been just as complex as her emotions. It’s no wonder she frowned so much. She must be putting in a lot of mental effort to stonewall her emotions.

She was still in her nightclothes, her hair out of its usual style was tousled and unkept from sleep. It draped over her shoulders and stuck out in some areas. A clear indication that she hadn't bothered fixing it when she woke up. From the looks of things, it appeared as if she just got up moments ago. It made you wonder how long Kuvira had decided to sleep in. It wasn't like her to do so. She preferred to be on top of her rigorous daily routines but with her current behavior and her known issues with night terrors, it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. I made the concern you managed to keep under wraps grow, mentally processing ways to try to help, but Kuvira was a stubborn one. Opting to deal with her own affairs and problems herself and pushing anyone else who tried to get close away with very few exceptions. You being one of those said exceptions.

“Hey…” You whispered, lifting a hand to place on Kuvira’s shoulder in hopes to snap her out of her trance. “Did you just get up?

You felt Kuvira stiffen under your touch but immediately began to relax. She turned to meet your eyes, noticing your face etched with worry. She sighed deeply, “About a half-hour ago.” Kuvira answered quietly, her voice still raspy from sleep.

You took a moment to study her features, her appearance looked dejected. You saw for yourself how worn and exhausted she looked, taking a mental note on how her eyes were developing dark circles. You swore the bags under her eyes were big enough to hold her dance equipment. It wasn't a good thing, to say the least. This was beginning to become a problem, a problem you would eventually need to figure out how to rectify despite Kuvira’s stubborn nature.

“Did you have another nightmare?” You asked gently.

Kuvira didn't answer you, all but gave you a silent nod in confirmation. Your hand rubbed her shoulder, trailing down the length of Kuvira’s arm, taking hold of her hand and lifting it to your lips to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Do you want to talk about it?” you asked in hopes she would be willing to open up.

“No, I don't. There's no point to... It’s not going to fix anything.”

“Kuvira…” You began, trying to get her not to start minimizing her issues. It was a notorious habit, one that obviously wasn’t helping if her appearance had anything to say about her mental state. “I know that is how you might feel about it, but if there is something troubling you then you need to not keep it bottled up. It’s just going to fester until it starts to manifest itself into other problems.”

Kuvira averted her gaze from you, almost as if she was trying to retreat back into her walls but not entirely. She took a deep breath and exhaled, “I know.”

“If you don’t want to talk to me will you at least talk to someone? Have you tried reaching out to Suyin?”

You felt Kuvira tense at the very mention of the matriarch’s name. She pulled her hand free from your grasp and turned to walk to the kitchen, leaving you without an answer. You stood there baffled, not sure of what to do.

No, I’m not gonna let her brush this off easily. You groaned and began to follow after her. You turned the corner and stepped into the kitchen just as Kuvira closed the cupboard, a mug in hand. She went over to the pot of freshly brewed coffee she had just made moments before your arrival and poured herself a cup. You stood beside her, leaning against the wall waiting for her reply. “Well?”

You watched as she reached for the sugar dispenser and cream,  pouring in a generous amount. She grabbed a spoon and began stirring the contents in the mug. She was clearly trying to avoid your questioning gaze.

“No of course not.” Kuvira finally answered before lifting the mug to her lips and taking a sip. She exhaled into the mug, feeling its warmth spread throughout her body, relaxing her.

“Why not?” You asked, reaching into the cupboard for a mug to pour yourself a cup.

“Why would I?” Kuvira answered dryly. “What happens to me is my problem. Besides, it's not like Suyin cares.”

“Kuvira… You know that’s not true. You know that Suyin cares. Why else would she have welcomed you back home?”

Kuvira shrugged, taking a long drink from her coffee. “Beats me… Probably because Korra and Lin guilt-tripped her into taking me back.”

“Kuvira, She cares about you. How do you not see that? The times she’s asked how you are doing, the random things she has asked for your assistance on, inviting you to dinner? You can't sit there and tell me you haven’t noticed?.”

“What of it? Kuvira said sharply, growing more agitated by the second. “That doesn't mean anything…”

“Well if it didn't mean anything to her then why does she keep doing it? For Spirits sakes Kuvria, Suyin has been trying to reach out to you by offering an olive branch and you are choosing not to reach for it.”

“I don't know why? She didn't care before, why start now? Kuvira asked bitterly.

“You know she does. I think deep down you do too! Su just has a strange way of showing it, and though it may have not always been the right way she is still trying.” You pressed further, not allowing Kuvira to dismiss it as a frivolous matter. “She asked me about you today.”

Kuvira’s eyes lit up as she pulled her mug away from her lips, swallowing the coffee that she held in her mouth hard. “She did?” She asked, surprised by your statement.

You took a drink from your own mug enjoying the taste and the much-needed warmth it brought to you before answering her. “Yes, she did. She hopes to see us both at the gathering tonight. Lin just arrived before I got back.” You paused, hesitant to bring it up Suyin, worried about what her reaction would be. “Suyin asked how you were doing… She’s worried about you.”

Kuvira took a sudden interest in her coffee mug. Scratching at the matte polished surface and swirling the contents with the spoon. She was contemplating this you were sure. If her stoic expression was any proof of that then you were certain. At the very minimum, she was receptive to your suggestions.

“I really don't want to go,” Kuvira whispered. she leaned her head back to down the rest of her coffee. She straightened back up, placing the mug on the counter with a hard thump. “She really wants to see you there. I’ll be attending too so you are not alone in this….” you reassured her.

“It’s not just this party Y/N! It’s more than that. I don’t want to want to pretend everything is normal when it’s clearly not. I know the Beifong’s have said they have forgiven me but I really can’t help but question the validity of that especially the way they act around me. I swear it’s almost like they expect me to do something bad…” Kuvira said, growing more irritated. She could feel herself being overcome with old resentment feeling an unspoken underlying hurt that even she herself wasn't aware was there, but she didn't want to acknowledge it. Doing so would further cause unnecessary tension that she knew would worsen her mood.

The sudden abrupt change in Kuvira’s behavior made you raise a brow. You could tell that the concern she felt was a valid one but you could see there was something more to her words. Something she wasn't speaking out loud almost as if she was avoiding something. You didn't press for an answer that you knew she wasn't ready to discuss, but you didn't want to dismiss her concern as something frivolous. You knew that in a way she was right. Since the two of you had been put under Suyin’s care you noticed how people watched you carefully, almost fearfully. Like a barrel of blasting jelly with a very short fuse. It was to be suspected of course the two of you were war criminals by all counts. Who’s to say either one of you would not revert to your old dogmatic tendencies. You couldn't change the opinions of others, after all, you were a big believer that actions spoke louder than words. You expected to be treated as such once it became known that Suyin would be your guardian and would be aiding in your rehabilitation. Now you had to put much work into proving to the citizens of Zaofu that you were not a threat and that alone took time. You took a long drink from your mug, feeling your expression soften as you contemplated the situation.

“I know…” You whispered softly. “And I know it’s even more difficult for you since you grew up and knew a lot of these people personally, especially the Beifong’s. You have to understand that these things take time.”

“I know… I just thought that my efforts in stopping Guan in Gaoling would have been more than enough to prove that I’m not the same person. That I'm not the Great Uniter any more. I regret how in my conquest for power I lost sight and hurt the ones I cared about… I’m trying to change Y/N… Why can't they see that?” Kuvira said anger flitting over her face as she spoke. What caught your attention were her eyes, you could see the pain she felt in that moment threatening to surface but she wouldn't allow it.

You put the mug you held in your hand down and reached out to her, pulling her close to you.  “I'm not the only one who sees it. Suyin sees it too. As much as you don't believe that to be true, it is. Please... give her a chance. I know it's frustrating but you are not alone in this… You have me…” You gave her a small smile, lifting your hand to cup her face.  

Kuvira exhaled sharply, feeling herself relax under your touch despite her frustration. She knew you were right, but it didn't make dealing with the reality of the situation any easier to bear. She leaned into your touch and allowed herself a moment of clarity, knowing full well you were subjected to the same treatment as her. It wasn't easier for either one of you and understood that you both needed each other. She needed to be rational about this and not let her personal feelings get in the way of reason.

“I know…” Kuvira said quietly, thankful for your support despite her stubbornness. “Thank you Y/N. Really, I don't know how you put up with me sometimes…”

You chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “The same way you put up with the Beifong’s.” You pulled away from her and pushed her tousled hair from her face.

Kuvira sighed deeply, finally making up her mind. “Alright, I’ll go. But just so we are clear this was your idea.” She jabbed a finger at you accusingly.  

You took hold of her finger and shook it. “Glad we could come to an agreement.” You said, resisting the urge to laugh.

Kuvira pulled herself free from your grasp. Her eyes narrowed, a frown forming on her lips. “Don’t patronize me…”

You scoffed. “Me? Patronize the all-mighty Kuvira? I would never…” You smiled.

Kuvira couldn't help the pout that formed on her lips. You found it so cute when she did, loving her softer side that she kept well hidden from the world but only allowed you to see. It melted your heart into mush.

You lifted and rested both hands on either side of her shoulder. “Why don't you go ahead and take a shower. Start getting ready. We only have a few more hours until we are expected to be there and I have some last-minute gifts to stash under the tree so I need to do that before things get crazier.”

Kuvira nodded in agreement. “Ok.” She whispered softly, pulling away from you. Your hands coming to rest at your side.  

She pointed in the direction of the bathroom, gradually walking in that direction. “I’m gonna go shower. I'll see you when you get back.” She said then walked out of the kitchen.

You grabbed your mug from the counter finishing the last of your coffee. Taking Kuvira’s empty mug in hand, you placed them in the sink. When you heard the sound of the bathroom door clicking close and the water turning on gave an indication you were in the clear. Carefully you walked into the bedroom and into the large walk-in closet. You pushed aside boxes and moved around clothed until you found a specific box that was buried under the lot. You pushed that box up to the side and began putting everything you moved back into place. Once finished, you lifted up the medium size box with both hands and walked back out into the bedroom. Taking a seat on the bed you peered into it, noting the number of objects that you had bought for each Beifong including Lin and Kuvira.

You shuffled through the pre-packaged gifts searching for one particular package that you didn't want Kuvira to open in front of the Beifongs. Your fingers closed around a long box. You pulled it free, giving it a quick glance to make sure the wrapping was still intact. You couldn’t suppress the smile that formed on your lips as you studied the box, feeling that familiar tug in your stomach at the idea of using it. You looked over at the closed bathroom door, listening in on Kuvira opening and closing the shower door. You were very tempted but knew it wasn't the right moment. With a small sigh, you leaned over to pull open the drawer to the nightstand, placed the gift quietly inside, and gently slid the drawer closed. Somethings were better to wait for. You hoped Kuvira would like it when the moment was right. The thought alone had you pressing your lips together to subdue your excitement. Yes you decided, there were some things in life worth waiting for and this was one of those things. Pushing the gifts back into the box you stood lifting up the box and left the bedroom, closing the door behind you for good measure. You walked out of the apartment into the cold winter afternoon and headed towards Beifong estate.

Once inside you immediately noticed that the chaos had slowed but not by much. Pushing through a group of servants putting last-minute decorations on the wall, you headed towards the parlor. When you enter you turn to peer around the corner to make sure that the coast is clear before proceeding in.  You approach the foot of the tree, placing the box on the floor and reaching in to pull out presents. You heard shuffling behind you which causes you to peer behind you. You waited a few beats making sure the coast is clear before turning back around to carefully place each gift under the tree.

You heard the sound of metal shoes tapping the stone floor heading in your direction. You stood up quickly, turning around just in time to see Lin and Suyin enter the parlor, their conversation ceased as they turned their gaze away from one another to where you stood, standing in front of the tree awkwardly.

“Y/N?” Suyin spoke first. Giving you a puzzled look. Lin stood beside Suyin eyeing you suspiciously as Suyin continued. “I thought you were going back to your quarters?”

“I did. I just wanted to put some things under the tree for later since your family usually unwraps gifts at midnight.” You stepped aside so they could see for themselves. The two inched closer and peered overseeing the neatly wrapped packages under the tree. Their suspicions died down.

“Oh, that is such lovely wrapping paper, you didn’t have to do that Y/N.” Said Suyin, pressing a hand to her chest.

“I wanted to do something nice.” You stated, noticing how Lin still watched you carefully. “I mean it is Christmas after all, the time for giving.”

“Exactly! I wished some people felt that way…” Suyin turned her attention to Lin, her eyes narrowed and lips forming a tight line.

“What?” Lin said defensively, eyes widened when Suyin fixed her with an accusatory stare. “I came, didn’t I? You know I’m not one for family get-togethers.”

“While that may be true did you have to come in your work uniform?” Suyin said exasperated. “Honestly Lin don’t you wear anything besides your armor?”

“I came right from the station… it’s not like I have anything else.” Lin said matter of factly.

“Right… other than your extensive collection of coats,” Suyin said dryly.

“I don't even have that many Su.” Lin countered, “And besides what of it? It gets cold often in Republic City. So it is a necessity to have.”

“Lin, the fact that you have more coats than actual clothes is enough proof to show that you’re practically married to your work.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Lin asked, not sure what Suyin was getting at with her argument.

“And what are you supposed to wear for tonight???” Suyin asked sharply.

You couldn’t help but stand there silently, watching the siblings squabble over Lin’s choice in wardrobe. You weren’t really surprised. The Beifong sisters could only remain civil long enough before they found something to bicker about. You knew the argument they were having was completely frivolous, but at that moment both women were so focused on it that they seemed to have forgotten your presence in the room. You wanted to leave, to let them go at each other. It would have been one less problem for you to deal with, but you knew that it would only set the tone for a tense gathering. You didn’t want anything to make things difficult for Kuvira. It already took enough convincing to get her to attend. With much apprehension, you tried to offer a resolution.

“Hey, If I may…” You began. Your voice was an octave higher than normal which worked in gaining their attention.

Both sisters stopped, switching their attention back to you to glare at you, causing a lump to form in your throat. You immediately regretted your choices but had no choice to continue unless you wanted them to round on you. “Su, Lin is a workaholic and that is not an unknown fact. And Lin as someone who understands being a workaholic, it doesn’t mean you can’t have a life.”

You clasped your hands together, addressing both of the Beifong sisters at the same time. “So, Su why don’t you rummage through your wardrobe and see if there might be something suitable for Lin to wear. If not maybe make a call to your tailor to see if they can come up with something last minute.”

Both sisters stared at you with blank expressions. You could see the gears in their minds clicking as they pondered your suggestion. Suyin shifted her gaze from you to address Lin. “I’m sure there is something in my closet we can find for you to wear Lin,” Suyin said mentally visualizing what she had accessible on hand that might be within Lin’s acquired taste.

“So long as it’s not frilly or makes me look like a clown I could care less,” Lin said dismissively. “At this point, I rather just wear a burlap sack.”

“Lin No! Stop” Suyin frowned, visibly horrified by Lin’s suggestion. “You are not wearing a burlap sack. We should be able to find you something. to wear. I am sure of it.”

“Fiiiinee…” said Lin begrudgingly, dissatisfied with the idea of having to play dress-up with Suyin. She was already dreading showing up.

“Great!” You exclaimed, rubbing your hands together before folding them together over your chest. “Now that it’s settled I will let you guys continue on with your discussion.”

You took a few steps forward with the intent to walk past them but were halted when Lin raised a hand in front of you, blocking your path.

“Hang on a moment Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

You raised a brow in suspicion. “About what?”

“Well as your parole officer I’m supposed to be checking in with you about once a month and it’s close to that time. The other issue being Kuvira.” Lin explained.

“What about Kuvira?” You asked hesitantly.

“I spoke with Su and she explained to me that Kuvira is showing signs of self-isolation.” Lin stood up straight, folding her arms across her chest. “Normally I don’t get involved with personal problems but seeing as it’s a perpetuating issue that is unresolved, it’s now officially my issue to deal with. Your mental stability is part of your rehabilitation. Can’t expect progress if either one of you is uncooperative and moping around.”

“I wouldn’t call it moping. And as far as I’m concerned she’s done everything she has needed to do. She’s just been distant with everybody… including me.” You expressed to Lin who listened intently.

Suyin interrupted, holding out an arm to gesture to the large sofas in the middle of the room. “Here, why don’t we all sit down,” Suyin said, laying a hand on Lin’s arm to gently lead her to a nearby sofa. You followed behind the two sitting down in front of them as they both sat together across from you.

“Look, It’s really not my place to say. I’m not one to divulge other people's personal issues… I’m sorry.” You apologized.

“I know you care about her and that you have a personal obligation to keep her affairs private but as your probation officer and Su as your guardian, it’s important that we know if there are any potential issues that might cause problems.” Lin pressed

“Kuvira is not trying to cause problems. She just doesn’t like the holidays.” You said, defensively

“If it’s just that then why is she refusing to cooperate with Su.” Lin countered.

“Lin, that’s not what I meant.” Suyin interjected, “All I said was that she has been extremely distant with me and doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Su it’s the same thing!” Lin stated.

“It’s not the same.” Suyin exclaimed, “I never said she didn’t listen. Kuvira’s done everything I’ve asked her to do, but what bothers me is when I’m trying to reach out to her she closes herself off.” Suyin explained, her tone coming out pained. “I just want…” Suyin paused trying to hide the hurt that flashed across her face. “I just don’t want her to push me away…not again...” Suyin said softly.

“Su…” Lin whispered, placing a hand on Suyin’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

“I just want to know… what I did wrong this time,” Suyin whispered solemnly, tilting her head down to watch her hands pull at the fabric of her robes in her lap.

You could see the pain and concern that Suyin suppressed written all over her face. That same pained expression that she managed to hide earlier was there in full display. You couldn’t help but be surprised by it. It was almost hard to believe to see Suyin visibly hurt and near tears by Kuvira’s avoidance.  You knew that Suyin was not always direct about how she felt about Kuvira, but at that moment you could see how much Kuvira truly meant to Suyin. You secretly wished Kuvira could see for herself how much the matriarch cared for her. You wondered if it would be enough to kick Kuvira out of whatever funk she had been in up to this point.

“I know…” You said gently after a few moments, wondering what Suyin was thinking. You felt guilty for originally questioning Suyin’s intentions but just seeing her here in front of you now made you realize how inaccurate your perception was.

“It really isn’t anyone’s fault. Kuvira’s just being stubborn.” You said to Suyin, causing her eyes to meet yours. She saw nothing but empathy and compassion.

“No one is to blame for this.”  You reassured her. Suyin’s gaze softened, understanding that there was more to this delicate situation.

“I did manage to talk her into going. So she will be at the party tonight. Though I have to admit it took some convincing,” You admitted.

“She’s going to be there?” Suyin asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

 “Yes, she has agreed to be there.” You confirmed, finding it hard to ignore the growing smile on Suyin’s face at the confirmation.

“But she hasn’t explained to you why she’s been distant?” Lin asked you directly, not satisfied by your answer.

“I mean she has told me very little about it.” You replied.

“What has she discussed with you, Y/N? Do you have any idea as to why she’s feeling the need to isolate?” Lin asked, pressing for an answer.

You took a moment to decide how you want to answer her question without giving her too much information. “As I had mentioned earlier to Su, I don’t think she is angry at anyone. If anything I think that she is just taking the opinions of others and the way people look at her way too seriously.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Lin.

“What I’m saying is…” you paused, trying to find the right words to defend Kuvira the best way you could. “Though things have been really challenging for her since moving back to Zaofu. She’s trying her best to make amends and to fix her wrongdoings and personally… I don’t think she feels supported…”

“I don’t understand why she would feel that way,” Suyin said, confused. “I’ve been trying to get her to open up to me, but I haven’t had much luck… I’m at a loss as to what to do.”

“Su, I don’t think this is just about you or anything you are doing.” You stated quickly, not wanting your words to be taken out of context. “I just think her lack of support around her is causing her to feel hopeless and alone, but that’s my opinion. I mean besides you Su; who else has really tried to talk to her?” You asked, hoping that Suyin would begin to understand the message behind your words.

“I…” Suyin paused, it seems that she was starting to understand the situation. “I didn’t even think to consider how she’s been settling in since she came back… how she's even handling everything. I mean Kuvira is no stranger to rumors, but I didn’t even think about how detrimental they could be to her.

“Especially since she’s in a great state of emotional and mental sensitivity. The added stress could also be contributing to her sleep issues.” Lin chimed in, adding her input into the conversation.

You nodded your head in agreement. The two older women were starting to understand that the issue was far greater than themselves; it all came down to Kuvira herself. More or less her mentality and how people viewed her now that she was no longer the Great Uniter. Having so much power at once and literally having it stripped away would make anybody question their life choices and sanity, especially when it came down to their relationships with others. That is considering if the relationship was still salvageable.

“Maybe, it’s possible…You do bring up a valid point Y/N.” Said Lin, her hand coming up to scratch at her chin.

“Indeed…” Suyin nodded in agreement. “I believe at this point it would serve in both of our best interests if I were to have a sit-down conversation with Kuvira.”

“I think that would be for the best, Su.” Lin agreed. “Better to hear it directly from the source.”

“I want to hear what Kuvira has to say before assuming the worst.” Said Suyin, her face remained passive but her voice sounded apprehensive. “I’ve already told Y/N that I would have tea brewed to help with Kuvira’s sleep issues… I will find time to meet with her later.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.” You said, feeling an odd sense of guilt at keeping Kuvira’s weary behavior towards the Beifongs to yourself. You knew the two sisters meant well but there were some things that people had to find out for themselves, and this was one of those things.

“It’s okay Y/N,” Suyin reassured you. “It’s not your place to speak on Kuvira’s behalf. I’m just glad that she will be joining us tonight. Hopefully, everything goes smoothly…”

“I’m sure it will.” You stated.

“I mean what is a Beifong gathering without a little family drama,�� Lin said nonchalantly.

“Lin!” Suyin whipped her head at Lin and narrowed her eyes. “Really?”

Lin shrugged her shoulders, “What? I’m just saying it’s pretty typical for our family to have some sort of drama or a reoccurring crisis during family get-togethers.”

“Well for once it would be nice not to.” Suyin spat.

“Anyways…” Lin began, brushing off her sister’s sass. “Besides that Y/N how have you been doing?”

“Oh you know, just helping out where and when I can.” You answered, feeling a bit awkward now that the conversation had diverted away from Kuvira and onto you. “I try to go where I'm needed.”

“Lately, Y/N has been helping me with reconstruction projects. I had her assist with a new design for our landscape project” Suyin confirmed.

“Yes, I have been trying to find ways to figure out how to make exotic plants thrive and reformat the layout of the grounds. It’s dirty work but I enjoy it. However, the weather has made it difficult to work so I will have to pick it back up when it gets warmer.”

Lin scoffed “Yeah, I don’t blame you. Getting here alone was a real pain. This storm is no joke. We had trouble with navigating our way here. At this rate, we might need to hunker down for a few days and wait out this storm.”

“Really? It’s that bad?” Suyin balked.

“Yes, visibility is terrible,” Lin confirmed. “If it wasn’t for it being daytime I highly doubt I would have been able to get here safely.”

“I’ll go ahead and have the rooms prepared just in case.” Suyin decided, her face etched with worry. “Hopefully the others will make it here safely.”

“They should, I radioed Korra and Tenzin before departing. They left after I did. From what I’m aware of they’re taking the future industry airship.” Said Lin.

“If that’s the case then I’m sure they’ll make it here safely. Asami has people that know what they’re doing.” Said Suyin, still showing visible concern.

Lin snickered at Suyin’s comment, earning a dirty look from Suyin. Her smug look vanished almost instantly. You resisted the urge to laugh, instead you bit your lip to suppress it. The way the two would throw shade at each other was something you found hilarious, not that you would make it known. One angry Beifong was enough to deal with… you didn’t want to do anything that would cause them to direct their anger at you. You doubted you would come out unscathed. That was a force you knew you did not want to reckon with if Kuvira’s description of their past fights was accurate as she claimed to be. You remembered when Kuvira explained to you their last fight. You almost didn’t believe it. It sounded so exaggerated and atrocious it was hard to believe. When you overheard the guards the other day talking about it after learning that Lin would be stopping by you couldn’t help but notice how nervous they became. Speaking cautiously in frantic whispers made you eavesdrop on the conversation. You had listened in on one of the guards complaining about how long it took to clean up the damage from the last time they fought. You remembered Kuvira mentioning it took weeks to fix the damage to the estate after the last time they went at each other's throats. Overhearing the guards talking with wide eyes and hushed voices made you wonder how extreme the fight was to cause that much damage. You definitely didn’t want to find out.

“Anyways…” you began, hoping to alleviate the tension. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss? I probably should head back and start getting ready.”

Lin shook her head, “Not at the moment, I will get with you later on for your evaluation.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you confirmed, pushing yourself off the sofa into a standing position.

Suyin rose from the sofa, “In the meantime, I’m gonna have the rooms prepared for later. That way everybody can retire after and nobody has to travel through that dreadful storm. I will get with you later Y/N.”

Lin stood up, “I’ll go ahead and radio Asami to check-in with them. Just to be sure.”

You nodded your head in agreement, “Great, see you later.”

You smiled at the two, then turned to leave. Giving them the opportunity to finish their chat before they went to carry out their tasks. At least things couldn't get more invasive than you thought to yourself. You pushed open the doors to the estate and headed down the path back to your apartment, wondering what you would return to.

[acciomalfoy]

the way the planets align (fred weasley x reader)

A/N; this fic is @fromashescomephoenixes child and i assisted in raising it :) so go check her out rn cos she is wonderful!

summary: y/n grew up alongside her two bestfriends, but life had other plans when y/n moved to france when she was 11. prior to the triwizards tournament, fred and y/n are forced to face the lives they lived, and the radio silence of the past year has an explanation afterall.

word count: a whopping 7.5k

-

It’s funny, really. How quickly life can pick you up, and how quickly life can throw you back down.

 “Faster!” I had screamed as the wind rushed through my hair. I remembered this moment the most. With the wind rushing through my hair and knotting it like nothing else, I felt like I was an eagle all the way up here. My nest? Quite simple really. The boy sitting in front of me. 

 Reality though, was quite different. I was on one of the Weasley’s seven brooms, and Fred was sat in front of me. I hadn’t met many quidditch players, but I already knew that Fred was a damn good one. We had had a plan, you see. Once we arrived at Hogwarts, we were going to become the youngest quidditch players ever. We had it all planned out..  

Fred began his descent to the ground in a swift plunge, and I clutched onto him tightly. If I made it to the ground, I was going to murder the idiot. 

 “Freddie!” I yelled out, and he only laughed.

 “Don’t worry y/n! I’m the best quidditch player of all time,” He yelled back, and I wasn’t quite sure what occurred in that moment, but as soon as Fred slowed down his descent by a fraction, I knew I was in for it. 

 “Sure you are,” I giggled. “Although I’m slightly better,” The wind caught Fred’s response to this, so I never heard it. Looking back, I wonder what he had said. For once, everything seemed perfect. When we reached the ground, I was torn between kissing the ground and wishing I was still flying with Fred.

 “I’ll never get sick of flying like that,” Fred smiled. The summer had made his freckles stand out even more than usual. I grinned back at him as we raced into the burrow.  

 “Darling y/n!” Molly greeted me cheerfully. “I haven’t seen you in ages! It must have been at least two hours,” she teased in a loving tone, and I could only grin back at her.

 “I missed you!” Ginny cheerfully chimed in as she gave me a hug. I waved to her and gave her a hug while Fred and George grabbed a couple of pumpkin pasties out of the cupboard.

 “Good afternoon y/n,” Percy greeted me as he peered over the top of his book. He was wearing strange glasses, which he swore he needed but Fred and George said he simply fancied that they made him look more grown up.

 “Er, hello!” I cheerfully replied. Percy always seemed so much more grown up than Fred and George and I, that I almost felt awkward talking with him.

 “Oh!” I remembered suddenly. “Would it be okay if Fred and George come over to my house for dinner tonight?” I asked Molly. Percy glanced up, but quickly resumed his uninterested reading.

 “Please mum!” Fred and George begged one unison. They liked my house because mum always made dessert. Although George always liked to tease me by saying Fred likes dinner anywhere that I was. I didn’t mind that idea, in fact it only made me blush, but I knew George was joking. Molly nodded her approval and we ran out the door, eager to spend the afternoon in the sun. 

 We began our hike to our absolute favourite picnic tree, where the sun was softly filtering through the leaves of the forest. We were by no means quiet as we joked and laughed our way through the woods.

 Finally we reached our picnic tree. I was the first to shimmy up the ladder. We had found the tree about three years ago, and from then on it became our hideout. The tree had such a huge trunk that even with all three of us we couldn’t get our arms around it! The trunk split into three large branches about eight feet off of the ground, and grew on from there.

 “We’ll have to find a new hideout at Hogwarts,” I sighed, but spoke loudly enough so they could hear me down the ladder.

 “I bet there’s some sort of secret room we could use!” Fred suggested eagerly.

 “Or we could just stinkbomb whatever room we want, and then no one else would want to use it!” George suggested as he popped his head over the top of the ladder.

 “Yeah, but I don’t know if I could even get used to that scent,” I wrinkled my nose in memory of the one we set off last Christmas.

 “Ah true,” Fred sighed. “Bet there’s a charm for that issue though!” We giggled and continued to talk about our plans for Hogwarts. We’d all be going next year, although I was still waiting for my letter since my birthday wasn’t until the next week. 

 -

 Dinner was certainly memorable that night. Fred, George and I walked back with about fifteen minutes to spare. They ran across the lane to get changed in time for dinner. I put on my favourite maroon dress and dashed downstairs just in time to hear the doorbell.

 “Hey guys!” Their marching grind beamed towards me and we sat down to a delicious dinner of homemade pizza. I should have noticed something was up, because we only ever had homemade pizza like that when there was big news. At the tender age of 10, this was the worst news I had ever received.

 “Are you boys excited for Hogwarts?” My mum had asked Fred and George. Of course, this launched us all into our carefully laid out plan. This extended to everything from what house we would be in, to what desserts we would eat on the first night.

 “Well, we have some exciting news,” My dad began. I glanced up, curious if my letter had arrived early or something. Unfortunately I was a bit preoccupied by a bit of cheese that was extra gooey on my pizza.

 “You’ll all get to experience two wizarding schools! In a way at least,” Mum announced this and we all instantly wanted to cheer. Secretly I hoped she would say we were all going on a gap year to Durmstrang. There was something so mysterious about it!

 “We’ve enrolled y/n at Beauxbatons as we’ll be moving there in August!” Dad positively beamed towards us all. Obviously they expected a rush of excitement about this, but what were we meant to say? I stared at my mother.

 “Without Fred and George?” My mom nodded a little sadly to confirm my worst fear.

 “But I’m sure you could all write letters or something!” My dad piped up. I felt like crying, but I couldn’t cry in front of Fred and George. Well, I could. They’d be very supportive, but I didn’t want to show them just how upset I was about it.

 “Excuse me,” I pushed aside my plate and left. I bounded up the stairs to my room, which was decorated with Holyhead Harpies posters. In a matter of moments my world had come crashing down. Beauxbatons was in France for Merlin’s sake! I would be completely and utterly alone. I sighed quietly, and opened up my window, leaning against the window sill. 

 It was quiet for a long time, the only sound I could hear being my own shallow breath as I tried to control my tears. A freckle covered arm nudged mine, and when I looked to my right I saw my best friend.

 “You know that nothing will change, right?” He asked quietly, and I laughed humorlessly.

 “Everything will change, Freddie. I can’t abuse Snape with you guys, or be the youngest chaser on the quidditch team. I want to go to Hogwarts.” I leaned my head on Fred’s shoulder, and he let out a long breath.

 “We can write to each other every week. Yeah, we can do that. Everything will be the same, nothing could tear us apart.” It was quiet again.

 “You promise?” I whispered, and he entwined his pinkie finger with mine.

 “I promise.”

••••

 Fred had fucking lied, I thought bitterly. We were sixteen now, and the letter exchanging had fallen through two years ago. I felt resentment rising in my chest, but I knew it was no one’s fault. It’s just the way that things unfold. Now, as I stood outside the Great Hall I had dreamt of entering my entire life, I had to still my hands as they involuntarily shook. I had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to even be afraid of really, and yet I couldn’t stop my heart from clouding my judgement as it always had as a child. Maybe there was just something about Fred that made me lose all inhibitions. 

 “Now!” Madame Maxine shrieked, and the doors flew open with a resounding bang. There was a split second where we froze, the eyes of Hogwarts on us. It wasn’t until the older girls flew forward did the rest of us, and without even seeing him I just knew where Fred was sitting.

 Something about a sixth sense, our parents used to say. I was Fred’s twin instead of George, with how finely tuned our minds were. We were always able to sense when something had happened to the other, or pinpoint the exact location of one another despite being apart. 

 I willed myself to look away from the flurry of red robes in the centre table. Knowing my luck, I would see a Weasley with questions written all over their face. It was something I couldn’t handle right now. Something that maybe I would never be able to handle. I curtseyed when I was supposed to, eyeing a yellow-robed boy who winked at me, and we continued marching forward.

 I knew that the house of courage was the next house to be curtseyed to, and I decided that if I had gone to Hogwarts, I definitely wouldn’t have made it into that house. I stared at the ground as I curtseyed and continued forward. During the dance we performed I was looking at the roof or the ground, anywhere but the sea of students in front of us. We hurried to the side, and I made the fatal mistake of looking into the crowd.

 Right into the eyes of a smiling Fred Weasley. 

••••

I sat down angrily at the Ravenclaw table. I’m not sure if anger was the right word for what I was feeling. But really how else am I supposed to describe the heartbreak, the sense of loss, and fear I felt. It was all too much. I simply couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. Especially as it was the hall we had so expertly planned our pranks, and conversations, and lives for. 

 What hurt the most, quite possibly, was knowing that there had never been a relationship to begin with. I wasn’t sure how old I was when I realised Fred was definitely better looking than most, and at some point during our letter exchange I had begun to fall for my friend. 

 “Y/n?” My friend Marie nudged me. “You looked beautiful out there!” She encouraged me eagerly, seeing that I was incredibly quiet.

 “Merci, Marie.” I managed a small smile towards her. “I just feel a bit out of place,” I shrugged. 

 “Well, I’m sure any number of boys here are eager to make sure we feel right at home,” Marie wiggled her eyebrows towards me as I let out a small laugh. I rolled my eyes before picking up a fork. “What about...” Her eyes scanned the room for a minute.

 “That one!” She pointed towards the Gryffindor table. I nearly choked on my piece of potato when I saw that of all the boys in the room, she had picked him...

 Fred Weasley’s eyes burned into mine again. I couldn’t stand it a moment longer and I murmured a quick excuse before rising from the table and leaving the hall hurriedly.

••••

When making the choice of leaving the hall, I had forgotten one thing. I didn’t know my right from left in this fucking castle. Everything was dimly lit, and there were endless corridors and nooks that aided in my getting hopelessly lost. I could vaguely recall the halls from Hogwarts: A History, but that had been six, seven years ago. 

 Eventually, I gave up and collapsed into a secluded corner. All things considered, there could have been a worse spot to allow four years of harsh feelings catch up to me. The starlight dimly illuminated by shaking hands, and bounced off of my silvery blue skirt. It was altogether peaceful, apart from my soft shuddering sobs. 

 “Hey,” a voice suddenly broke the secrecy of my break down.

 “Fred, I don’t want to see you right now.” I groaned. His warm brown eyes and soft freckles were too much. They still made my heart flutter and my head spin. As if I was soaring through the air on my broom again, a little girl having a crush on a little boy.

 “What? Why not?” He asked, flabbergasted. I turned the other way, and began to trace the soft patterns of my wand, as I often did when I was nervous. 

 “We’re not friends anymore. You clearly forgot me.” I accused him. It felt good to finally see him and show him how awful he had been to stop writing.

 “You’re the one who stopped writing to me!” He fired back, and I slowly shook my head. He had ignored my letters for over a year and had the nerve to lie to my face about it. 

 “Go. Away.” I coldly turned, and positively bolted down the hall. The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. Letters had begun growing scarce around our third/fourth year, and it was seemingly reasonless. The trail had truly gone cold at the end of our fourth year, and that was when the real heartbreak had set in. What a time to be alive. 

••••

“George, did you keep writing to y/n?” Fred was sprawled on one of the many lounges in the Gryffindor common room, while George was lying at his feet. 

 “No, we never even started writing to each other,” He shrugged. Y/n and George had never been quite as close, and they naturally fell out of touch when she moved. 

 Fred pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his robe pocket, and lovingly smoothed it out.

 “She stopped writing to me in fourth year.” Fred whispered. At this George sat bolt upright. The thought of Fred and Y/n not being best friends was a startling one, one that had never come across his mind. 

 “What do you mean?” George asked, clearly stunned. His twin and y/n had written weekly for as long as he could remember. “Why didn’t you check if it got lost?” Fred shook his head.

 “I did George,” He held up the crumpled paper he was holding. His pained expression was almost too much for the twin to bare. “I wrote four fucking times. This one was going to be my last hope,” He crumpled it back up, and shoved it into a pocket dejectedly. 

 “Oh Fred...” George sighed. “I suppose a prank on Gin is out of the question then?”  

 “I can’t right now.” Fred ribbed his face in his hand. He felt so lost and confused after his encounter with y/n. How could she have thought he would ever want to stop writing to her? Something must have happened to the letters, but he felt like he must be kidding himself if he thought that 5 different letters could get lost. Errol wasn’t that old, was he? 

••••

I dressed quickly in the morning in my pale blue, silky uniform. Although I still sometimes wished that I had gone to Hogwarts, I had to say that the Beauxbatons uniform was much better. As I exited the dormitory I bumped into my friend Maurice who had just exited his dormitory.

 “Salut!” Maurice greeted me cheerfully as we fell into step beside each other. 

 “Quoi de neuf?” I muttered. Though we all mostly spoke English around each other, we also had fun, shorter chats in French. At Beauxbatons they taught most classes in English, except for potions since it was so precise and they couldn’t risk as translational mix up. 

 “You okay y/n?” Maurice asked, pausing and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Aunty Lisa told me to keep an eye on you,” I sighed. Of course, mother would set my cousin on my tail to make sure I didn’t stress. 

 “Never better,” I grinned. “I might, er, run to the bathroom before breakfast,” I turned and threw a wave towards Maurice before I left. I hurried down a random corridor and hoped I’d be able to find a hufflepuff or something to show me to the great hall later.

 For now, I didn’t pay any attention to where I was going as I slowly walked around. I let my eyes drink up the lovely sights of Hogwarts. It was still sinking in that I was finally seeing it, even if I was seeing it under much different circumstances than I had hoped. I ducked away into a corridor as I heard hurried footsteps coming up behind me. Unfortunately I had misjudged, and they were coming towards me, not passing me. 

 “Y/n?” I heard a voice that I vaguely recognised, but couldn’t place. “What are you doing here?” After a moment of thought I finally placed the voice to Percy Weasley. 

 Bloody hell, of the hundreds of student in the castle it seemed I’d only ever meet the Weasleys. 

 “Hello Percy,” I mustered up as much cheerfulness as I could and I tried to walk past him. He grabbed my arm, and I was forced to stop and converse with him.

 “Well!” He smiled broadly, “How have you been?” Clearly he had a much different memory of how close we had been, because he was acting about ten times kinder than I’d expect. 

 “Really well, thank you.” I turned my lips up, hoping to achieve a smile. “Are you hoping to participate in the tournament?” 

 “Oh heavens,” He laughed in a very uptight manner. “No, no. I work for the ministry now.” He said with an air of self importance. 

 “Well, congratulations.” I spoke, with a hint of sarcasm and I made to excuse myself.

 “Would you like me to walk you to breakfast?” I cringed as my escape was foiled. 

 “Er, actually, I was heading to my dorm.” I lied on the spot, cursing the sound of my grumbling tummy. 

 “Oh! Which tower are you in?” I again cursed my poor lie. Thankfully, I was saved (or further doomed) by Fred coming around the corner. 

 “Y/n! Can we please talk?” Fred sprinted towards me and grabbed my hand. I saw some sort of emotion flicker cross Percy’s eyes as I shouted good bye and followed Fred. I laughed once we turned a corner.

 “Thanks Freddie,” I grinned a moment, forgetting I was meant to be angry with him. One more look at his honey brown eyes sent the negative emotions straight into my heart, however. “I’ll be going now,” I began to leave haughtily.

 “No. You won’t.” Fred begged. “Please let me talk to you.” I nearly yielded, but couldn’t stand the idea of my heart broken again with excuses of why my friendship wasn’t worth it. 

 “I can’t talk to you, Fred. Merlin, it hurts for me to even look at you. It’s heartbreak if I’ve ever known it.” I whispered quietly before racing away. Somehow I ended up in the Great Hall, with snot and tears on my face. 

 Before entering, I gently cleaned my face with a charm, and reapplied the natural makeup I had on. Determined to brave the hall before risking running into another Weasley, I calmly walked towards the Ravenclaw table.

 “Oh Marie,” I groaned. It was I could do to keep my composure and not sprawl my head onto the table. Luckily, as my best friend she was able to see this. She patted my back gently, and placed a fresh chocolate croissant on my plate. “Thank you” I smiled. 

 “Of course,” She smiled back towards me. “Did you get lost?” She giggled slightly. 

 “More hopelessly than you could ever know!” To her this would seem like dramatic flair, however I truly felt lost at heart. Unsure how to proceed between Fred’s excuses, Percy’s kindness, and the stress of possibly entering the tournament. I wanted to believe that Fred was telling the truth about the letters, but it didn’t add up.

 The last letter I had sent before Fred stopped writing had been a special one. I had been unable to hold in my feelings towards him any longer. At the end of the letter I had explained that I loved him. Not in the sisterly, or friendly way that I had previously led him to believe. But a real love. 

 Of course he stopped writing. I couldn’t blame him. But I had hoped that he wouldn’t let in stop our friendship. It had hurt. It still hurt, because even though I was young I also knew more than ever that I loved Fred. 

--

“I heard that a ministry official is going to ask you to the ball, y/n.” Marie whispered in that way of hers, and I stared aghast.

“What? Surely that’s illegal.” I whispered back, and Madame Maxine stared at us over the rim of her glasses. I swallowed before picking up my quill.

“Nothing’s illegal for ministry officials, silly. Have you heard of Percy Weasley before?” I froze. Percy fucking Weasley. 

“No, I haven’t. He sounds like a proper nonce.” Marie and I broke into peels of laughter, and another look from Madame silenced us. 

“Will you say yes?” Marie had long mastered the ability to speak with her mouth closed, and had tried in vain to teach me.

“Absolutely not.” I replied, and the sounds we heard for the rest of the lesson were quill scratching parchment and our headmistresses voice. 

-- 

It was on my way to another lunch in the gardens that I was ambushed by arguably my favourite Weasley.

“Hey Georgie.” I couldn’t help the old nickname fall from my lips, and he smiled at me.

“I’ve missed you.” He said, and I smiled sadly.

“I’ve missed you too, silly. I assume you didn’t find me for pleasantries though. You were never the most tactful Weasley, were you?” I laughed at the look of sheer outrage on George’s face, and he eventually chuckled.

“Rumour has it that you stopped talking to my brother a year ago.” He said, and I sighed.

“Fred stopped writing to me after I sent him a letter confessing how I felt about him. Take that as you will, but I took it as a clear rejection.” I took a deep breath, now able to say Fred’s name without falling into pieces. George stopped.

“What? Fred said you stopped talking to him, and I don’t like to think of my brother as a liar.” He said hotly, and I stared at him.

“Am I a liar, Georgie?” 

It was quiet for a long time.

“No, you’re not.” 

-

“Miss L/n!” I should have known that I couldn’t escape Percy Weasley. He was relentless, and I wondered if he knew what the word no meant.

“Hi, Percy. I’m actually on my way to class, I’m afraid.” I tried to end the conversation before it could begin, but no such luck.

“Perfect! I’ve been meaning to walk you to class for a while! Gentlemens chivalry and all.” He looped an arm under mine and I reluctantly started walking.

“Now that I’ve got you here, I wonder how you managed to rank top three in all of your classes. Naturally, I always ranked top five, but that’s mildly less impressive. I think it goes without saying that I topped most of my NEWT’s, but I’m still intrigued on what your methods are. There’s still plenty of learning and memorising that goes on at the Ministry, you see, and I think that you and I would make a great team. Who knows, maybe you can be my assistant when I’m Minister of Magic one day.” I tuned Percy out as quickly as I could. Really, I couldn’t think of anyone who would actually want to listen to Percy for five minutes, let alone the rest of his life. 

I thought wistfully of Fred during the walk to my class, and how much my heart ached at the mention of his name. Maybe I had been harsh on him. Suppose our letters had been lost in the post? It wasn’t unlikely, and it sure would explain why he seemed so confused and upset. 

“Well, this is my stop.” I interrupted him as he droned on and on and on and on and-

“It was a pleasure as always.” Percy picked up my hand and I tried not to gag as he kissed it. Was there anything quite as horrible as this was? I didn’t think so. Oh, maybe your best friend cutting contact with you after you confess your love to him. My life was going spectacularly.  

“See ya.” I darted inside the classroom, spying Maurice and Marie sitting by the door. 

“Hey, y/n.” They chorussed. I noticed with relief that Madame hadn’t arrived yet, and I slid into the seat beside Maurice.

“Salut.” I sat in silence thinking about how weird Percy was, when my breath caught in my throat.

I hadn’t been ranked top three in every class this year, and the last time I had been ranked top three must have been in fourth year. I recalled a quill in my hand as I wrote to Fred excitedly, and the emptiness I had felt upon not receiving a letter. Was it possible? 

I think it was about time I had another chat with George. 

-

“Where are you going George?” Fred glanced up, half interested. His gaze was still fixed on the list of products him and his brother were assembling.

 “Ah, just for a stroll,” George explained as he subtly picked up Fred’s robe instead of his own. The twin hardly nodded, as he became immersed once more in the list of clever tricks and treats they had assembled. George thanked Merlin for his good luck and slipped out the portrait hole.

 Once safely in the corridor, George felt around in the inner pocket to find what he was looking for. Thankfully, it was right where Fred had left it. As always. George pulled out the crumpled parchment, but didn’t dare to open it. It was too personal he had decided. He was simply acting as a messenger, he reminded himself.

 Y/n had invited George to meet her in the library after lunch. Thankfully, after being at the castle for nearly two months at this point, she knew her way around. Now, George thought, all that’s left to do is deliver a letter.

-

“George!” I hissed from a secluded corner of the library. This library was nice, but if I’m being honest I preferred the lighter atmosphere of the library at Beauxbatons.

 “Oh! Hello y/n, fancy seeing you here!” George teased and winked towards me. In return I rolled my eyes, but still had to suppress a giggle at his overused joke. 

 “Look I need to ask-“ I began to feel a little flustered.

 “How did I get my dashing good looks?” He ran a hand through his hair and struck a pose. 

 “No I-“ 

 “Sorry doll, I’m taken. But I have a twin!” George sent finger guns my way, and pretended to swagger away.

 “No! George!” As frustrating as it was, I had missed George’s little jokes. “Did you know Percy had a crush on me?” I questioned firmly. George’s jaw dropped open.

 “I mean-“ He ribbed his neck sheepishly “We used to suspect it in first and second year. But Fred beat him up about it and we thought that was that!” I buried my face in my hands, cringing at the very thought. Merlin’s soggiest sock couldn’t make this any worse. 

 “I think I know what happened,” I sighed. I felt defeated, and mean. I couldn’t believe the things I had said to Fred. How I’d brushed him away. Now the task at hand was talking to that Weasel that had ruined everything. 

 “Well, I don’t know exactly what conclusion you’ve reached,” George gently spoke. “But I think you should read this,” Before he left he pressed the folded, crumpled parchment into her hand. 

-

“George!” Fred sang out as soon as George entered their dorm room. “I have a plan!” He leaped from bed to bed in a happy spirit that often accompanies new hopes.

 “I’m going to ask y/n to the ball!” He exclaimed. George sighed, unsure how his brother thought this would instantly fix things. Luckily for Fred, George had pulled a few extra strings for the odds to be completely in his favour. 

-

“Marie!” I sobbed as she came into the dorm. This was probably not how she expected to find me tonight, and the shock on her face was obvious. 

 I had ripped the covers off of my bed and wrapped them around me like a large cocoon. Then I had promptly laid down and cried for the better part of an hour. At least it was a good test of my makeup setting charm.

 The letter is what did it. Oh! The letter! I cradled it ever closer to my heart as I sobbed again. He had written with all the heartbreak I had felt, with all the love I had felt, with all of the friendship I had felt. And it never got to me! Just as my letter never got to him!

 “He loves me Marie!” I gasped. “He wrote me five letters.” Marie, like the true friend she was, promptly crawled into the cocoon with me and began to rock me softly. 

 “Hush, mon caneton,” she whispered. I steadied my breathing and hugged her tightly. Thank goodness that we had both decided to come on this trip. I don’t know what I would have done without her.

 “I love him too,” I admitted. 

 “Well what are you waiting for?” Marie asked with a knowing look on her face, and I slowly nodded. She was right.

 “Go attack that little weasel.” I laughed in delight, and Marie gave me a soft shove out of our cocoon of blankets.

 “Go!” She repeated, and with another shove I stumbled out of our room. I had no clue where I would find a certain Percy Weasley at this hour, and I didn/t quite know where to begin. Only one person reminded me of Percy, and I figured I may as well head to his room.

 “Professor Snape.” I smiled politely as he opened the door after I knocked, and he merely scowled.

 “Pray tell me what you are doing outside of my classroom.” He sneered, and I stopped smiling.

 “Do you know where I can find-” I was rudely interrupted by none other than the man of the hour.

 “Miss L/n! How I’ve longed to see you!” Percy popped out from being Snape, and I found myself being guided away from the dungeons by the very person I wanted to slap.

 “I’m sure I have longed to see you more.” I said, and he squeezed my shoulder. I almost threw up, right then and there.

 “Why were you looking for me, my dearest?” I was two seconds away from punching the smarmy bastard in the face, and I took a deep breath.

 “I just wanted to let you know that if you ever try to come between Fred and I again, the letters you stole will be the least of your worries. I will ruin you, Weasley, and you better not forget it.” I snarled as I shoved his shoulder before walking off, and the stunned silence fueled my satisfaction.

 It was time to find my Weasley.

 Twenty minutes later and I couldn't find a trace of him. My heart sunk to my stomach. What if my coolness had finally gotten through and he had given up? Was he avoiding me? I slumped into my seat at dinner and leaned my head on Marie's shoulder.

 "I can't find him," I sighed. She reached over and patted my back while she swallowed her bite of quiche.

 "Well, he couldn't have gone too far!" She attempted to cheer me up. Out of habit, my eyes wandered over to the area where Fred and George usually sat. I raised an eyebrow as I found that their spots were empty. Loud footsteps behind me caught my attention and I snapped my head around the other way.

 Thank Merlin, it was George. He was jogging towards me and his robes flapped behind him.

 "Y/n!" He greeted me once he was within earshot. I waved and grabbed another piece of pizza.

 "You play quidditch at Beauxbatons, right?" Marie perked up beside me and grinned before proceeding to sing my praises.

 "She's only the best chaser I've ever seen! You should've seen last sea-" I cut her off, blushing furiously.

 "Yes. I play quidditch." I rolled my eyes.

 "Great, can you help me with something?" George begged. I nodded and followed him out of the room. The sun was just beginning to set, and the air was quite chilly. I wondered what he could possibly need help with at this time. Especially since quidditch had been cancelled this year!

 After we left the hall, and I was extremely puzzled what was happening I began to ask a few quesitons.

 "Do you know where Fred is? I can't find him," I asked George who looked completely bewildered.

 "Fred? No I have no idea!" His voice reached incredibly strange pitches and I realised quite quickly that he was lying.

 "So. What do you need my help with?" I suppressed a grin as I began to see what was happening.

 "Er," There was a pause while George thought of what exactly he had summoned me for. Luckily for him, Ron and Ginny were walking by at that exact moment. "Ron was thinking of trying out for keeper!" He explained desperately.

 Ginny's eyebrows shot up, and she slugged Ron in the arm.

 "Good for you little brother!" Ron's face burned red as they walked away and he began to make excuses.

 "Don't we need Ron for this then?" I grinned at George, and he began to mutter something under his breath.

 The rest of the walk passed relatively quickly as George and I caught up about everything that had happened since I moved. We easily fell into conversation thanks to Fred keeping us both updated on the other. Finally we arrived at the field.

 "Godric! I'm late for something." George looked at his non-existent watch and ran away before I could stop him.

 "What the hell?" I muttered as I began walking back to the exit of the quidditch pitch. Unfortunately, in my angry haze I tripped right over a broom that was lying on the grass. Gingerly, I picked it up, and paused. Why not, I thought, as I mounted the stray broom.

 "Y/n!" From a distance, I thought George had come back. I sped forward slightly, moving the broom precisely and smoothly to greet him. Of course, by 'greet' I meant cast a harmless hair changing charm. Luckily (for his sake,) I quickly noticed it was Fred. Unluckily (for my sake) I was now incredibly flustered and unsure what to say. I chanced a timid wave, and thanked Merlin when he returned it, equally timidly.

 "I'm sorry!" I instantly shouted, speeding down from my perch in the sky. I pulled out of the short dive just a few feet off of the ground.

 "No y/n," Fred shook his head "I'm sorry. I should have known you would never stop writing." He stared at his feet, looking ashamed. "Must've been that goddamn bird," He let out a nervous laugh, but continued to stare at the ground. I didn't want to bring Percy into this yet. He didn't deserve a place in what I hoped would become a treasured memory.

 "It wasn't your fault," My heart was breaking at the pain on his face. But how do you break this sort of news kindly? "I shouldn't have thought you would stop writing either, I just-" I trailed off, unsure what to say.

 "What was in that last letter you sent?" He asked glancing up. I paused, hopping off my broom. Fred followed in his actions, and our eyes finally met.

 "Wait, you never even saw it?" I knew that he'd most likely never seen it, but I had always imagined Percy had let him receive it at least. Little did I know the precision that Percy carried out his plans with.

 He had begun by snatching a letter here and there. Laying the foundation for doubt of each other's consistency of correspondence. He had saved the letters sent by me, burned the ones sent by Fred, and written his own imaginary replies. I had become an obsession for him. So much so that when he saw me this year, he thought we would instantly pick up where we had left off in his imagined reality.

 The day I had sent the letter to Fred. That all important letter. He had taken it and saved it for himself. Looking upon my words of love, and imagining they were from him. The thought of Percy receiving those words instead of Fred brought tears to my eyes.

 "No," He admitted.

 "I wanted to tell you-" I cut myself off. What if all Fred was searching was the friendship we had previously shared? I bit my tongue and held a silent debate until I finally plucked up my courage.

 "I love you," I let the sweet words fly away towards him. I hoped they'd be returned. That their fragile wings would be cradled, rather than crushed. A momentary surprise froze Fred. The stress of the situation made those few seconds feel like hours. Hours of anguish and feeling entirely exposed and unprotected. Finally, Fred sprang in to motion. He rushed towards me, as his lips found mine, my eyes fluttered closed. It was just Fred and I, the aligned planets watching as their plan fell into place. Fred tasted like strawberries and he sucked softly on my lip. I couldn’t help from running my hand through his messy hair, and I felt him grin into the kiss. 

 "Go to the Yule ball with me my darling?" He asked softly as we broke apart.

 "Of course my love," I let my head rest on his strong chest as we let the last flickers of sunset wash over us.

 The ball had approached much quicker than expected. Over the past two weeks, a lot had happened. First, I had explained to Fred what Percy had done. I didn't want to create a rift between the brothers, but it was the only way to fully explain and resolve the situation. Fred had looked very solemn, and confronted Percy who denied everything. Unfortunately for him, he carried around my last letter with him which was quite incriminating when we discovered it.

 Fred and I had hardly spent a moment away from each other.

 I had a periwinkle blue mini dress on, which hugged tightly around me. Over top, I had a sheer silvery blue gown that shimmered like stars as I moved. All of the Beauxbatons girls had picked something of the same color scheme, but this dress felt so me that I didn't mind. After curling my hair into delicate ringlets I helped Marie curl her hair and then we left.

 I took a deep breath as we glided down the stairs after Madam Maxine. I could hardly contain my excitement. My heartbeat felt similar to when I was anticipating a particularly good match of quidditch.

 Fred was standing there looking spectacular in his dress robes. He had charmed his tie to be a periwinkle blue, and he was holding a small bouquet of lavender flowers. The moment I smelled them, I remembered that moment with him on that broom. I remembered the rush of adventure, the hint of recklessness, but most importantly: the trust. I trusted him so much.

 He took my hand, and we silently walked into the ball. It almost felt too perfect. Too cliche, not unique enough for such a special story. Our story that we were writing one page at a time.

 After a few songs spent pleasantly dancing, laughing, and whispering lost words to each other I had an idea.

 "Freddie?" I whispered as I leaned my head onto his chest.

 "Mmm?" He swayed us gently to the sweet music.

 "Can we leave?" I asked. "I want to go on a broom with you again," I explained. His face softened and he took my hand as we walked to the quidditch pitch.

 Here we were. Up in the air again. I spread my arms, testing if my eagle wings were still there. They were. And as an eagle, I had finally reunited with my nest. I brought my wings back down to take hold of the broomstick. This time I was in control, and I'd had a bit more practice than 10 year old Fred had had. So, I sent us into a steep dive, almost until it felt like a free fall.

 After the rush of adrenaline I soared back up until we reached the roof of Gryffindor tower. I couldn't stop myself from imagining how many sleepless nights we could've spent talking here. How many breakfasts, and boring classes I could've spent with him.

 As I saw the moonlight softly reflect off of Fred's pale face I realised then and there. He was my soulmate. He was my perfect match. He was the person that I didn't want to spend a single minute without unless I absolutely had to.

 I told him so too.

 "Freddie," We were holding hands again as we laid on top of a soft blanket he had conjured to lay down on the roof. The incline of it was just barely safe to lay down on without sliding off. I didn't feel scared though, I had Fred to anchor me.

 "You look beautiful in the moonlight y/n," He turned his lively eyes towards me. I blushed and smiled slightly.

 "I love you so much," I began. He kept his eyes trained into mine. Giving me his full attention. "I don't want to lose you again, okay?" I took a somewhat shaky breath. " I just mean, the past couple weeks have felt like a dream.” I said, and Fred held my hand.

 “I know, pretty girl. You won’t lose me again, not if there’s anything I can do about it.” I squeezed his hand back, and we watched the night sky in all its glory.

 I was standing in my dorm room, nearly ready to leave when an owl flew into the window. Plonk, I realised it was poor Errol. It appeared he could hardly handle a flight around Hogwarts anymore. I tucked him into a small blanket and gave him an owl treat. He let out an appreciative coo and snuggled into the cozy nest I'd made. I unrolled the parchment, and twirled the sprig of lavender that had been in the ribbon between my fingers.

 Dearest y/n,

 Today you go back to Beauxbatons. I'm sorry I can't be there in person, but I'm happy to tell you everything is going really well.

 The shop looks amazing, although they can't have it ready for us until some time next year. I figure this will work well anyway since we still have a few more products to perfect. (Thanks for helping us with the antidote for the puking pastilles by the way!!)

 Also, the apartment will be perfect I think. We would be on one of the very top floors, so you might feel a bit at home given your talent for quidditch. It's close to diagon alley, but actually in muggle London, which I thought you might like. I said we'd take it within the next 8 months, since I'll obviously be leaving school before graduation and you'll be graduating in March.

 I hope the carriage ride is fairly nice. I know it won't be perfect since yours truly isn't there (wink wink) but I hope I'll be able to visit soon! I have to go for another surprise I'm working on, but I'll owl soon. I have my eye out for lovesick, letter stealing brothers this time!

 Yours forever and a day,

 Freddie

[yakultberry]

kfc (kisses for christmas) ; c.sc

✪ summary: You’re unexpectedly single on Christmas Day, but you don’t want to spend it alone. At least you can count on the cute delivery boy to bring you fried chicken. ✪ pairing: chicken delivery boy!seungcheol x reader ✪ genre: fluffy fluff ✪ word count: 2.1k words  ✪ tags: @yutacrush​ thank you for beta reading for me i would like to marry you

✪ a/n: helllo binu here!! i am very excited to be posting my first fic on yakultberry c: this fic is actually part of @merakiiverse​‘s job au collaboration (will link after posting). i really have a lot of respect for everyone who writes straight up fluff, because ooooof did i struggle way more than i expected while writing this lmao hopefully it turned out okay and y’all can enjoy! <33 

[chicky delivery boy]: your order is 5 minutes away! 

At the arrival of the text, you scrambled out of your position on the couch and quickly began to clear away the dirty dishes on your coffee table and the used tissues that had accumulated over the course of the day. You weren’t quite sure what ghost of Christmas past possessed you to continue your annual tradition of binging cheesy holiday movies all day, but you supposed it was because you were at a loss for what to do at all. You had spent the last two Christmases with that asshole. It wasn’t like you could call up your friends to hang out with you today; no, they were lucky enough to have nice boyfriends who didn’t break up with them two months before the holidays. And you definitely weren’t going to go out on the town by yourself, only to be forced to watch all the happy couples cuddle close to each other in the cold. 

So here you were, alone in your apartment, waiting on your fried chicken to be delivered.

It seemed to be the one constant in your life amongst the aftermath of your chaotic break up. Whenever you made an order, it would arrive at your doorstep within thirty minutes, always warm and always comforting. Although you wouldn’t quite say that Joy’s Chicken was the best chicken restaurant in the area (the family-owned joint two blocks over was definitely much tastier), it still managed to become your go-to after the delivery person from the family restaurant got lost on their way to your apartment for the third time. That, and once your order had arrived on your doorstep, brought to you by a dimpled, dark-haired delivery boy, you quickly decided that the restaurant had its own charms.

“Coming!” you called out to the gentle knock at the front door, skipping across your living room to reach it. After checking your reflection in the mirror hanging in the hallway, you swung the door open, smiling brightly. “Finally, I’m starving-- what happened to you?” 

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the boy said with a chuckle, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped tightly around his face. You reached over to pull down the scarf to reveal that he was smiling back at you, though you did note that his lips were pale and his teeth were chattering. The thick, puffy coat he wore could only do so much when he was covered with a snow from head to toe. You watched as some of it crumbled off of his shoulders when he shuffled to take your food out of an insulator. Today, the box had a cute little bow stuck to the top of it.  “Merry Christmas! This is for you.” 

You took the bag from his hands, but, as usual, you didn’t close the door right away. “Seungcheol, you look like a marshmallow.” 

“Wow, I take it you didn’t get a present for me?” He leaned against your doorframe, a pout now on his lips. “I wish I was a marshmallow. Then I could jump into some hot chocolate and finally feel warm. It’s been snowing non-stop out there since 7PM.” 

At this, you felt a small twinge of guilt for being one of his orders tonight, especially knowing that Seungcheol would often make your deliveries by foot since you didn’t live too far from Joy’s. “Does your shift end soon at least?” 

“Yeah, we’re closing a little earlier today since the boss has Christmas plans! You’re actually my last delivery for tonight.”

“Oh well, if that’s the case,” you said tentatively, stepping to the side. “Would you like to come in for some hot chocolate before you have to head back into the storm? It’s the least I could do since I did forget to get you a present.”

The boy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his grin remained, albeit a bit amused. Now some would say that inviting some random guy into your apartment just because you didn’t want to be alone on Christmas was probably not the best idea, but Seungcheol was definitely not just some random guy. Every Friday for the past eight or so weeks, Seungcheol had arrived at your doorstep with a box of chicken with your name on it. He probably came by more frequently than your regular friends now that you really thought about it. After the first couple of times he delivered, he decided to introduce himself to you since he thought it was unfair that he already knew your name and you only saw him as the guy that brings your chicken (which wasn’t entirely true-- you saw him as the cute guy that brings you your chicken). 

“Unless you have your own Christmas plans to get to, of course,” you quickly added. Admittedly, your conversations with Seungcheol only ever extended to silly banter, so there was no telling what his life was like beyond the threshold of your doorstep. For all you knew, he could very well have a get together planned with his friends or a dinner with his family. Or a date with a girlfriend. 

“I mean, I was planning on watching Die Hard by myself again, but I think I can be a little late for that,” Seungcheol mused playfully. You couldn’t keep the wide smile from spreading across your lips as you moved back to allow him to step into your apartment for the first time. He took off his shoes and shrugged off his thick coat before following you to your small kitchen. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you too long,” you said, and reached over him to grab two mugs from a cabinet. 

“I mean, you can keep me for as long as you like,” he shrugged, but you were quick to catch the mischievous twinkle in his eye. You suddenly realized that this was the closest you’ve ever stood together and turned away to begin preparing the hot chocolate in the hopes of hiding how flustered you felt. 

“Anyway uh--” you cleared your throat, but it was proving difficult to think up a conversation starter when you could feel Seungcheol so close. You chanced a glance over at him, noting how he was still rubbing his hands together and shuffling in his spot to warm himself up. “Oh no, you must be freezing.”

He shook his head, but you could see how the snow that had clung to his clothes was slowly melting and soaking into the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m fine. Though I’m definitely not as warm as you.” You followed his gaze down to the festive pajama set you had been wearing all day, which was patterned with reindeers and sleighs, and you reached over to shove at his chest lightly. 

“I was doing laundry and this is all I had!” Your voice can barely be heard over the boy’s gleeful snickering. It was now your turn to pout at him. “You know what, it’s actually really bad to stand around in cold, wet clothes. You might get sick. And lucky for you, since I am such a caring person, I have precisely the outfit that will save you from such a fate.”

“Oh no, that’s fine--”

Before he could finish, you had already whisked away to your room and returned with a folded set of pajamas that clearly matched your own. You gave him a cute little smile as you handed it to him. “No, I insist! I’ll even put your wet clothes in the dryer so that you can properly get nice and warm.” At this point, Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at you. “What?”

“You just happened to have couple pajamas at the ready?” Seungcheol hummed. “Seems like you were planning this for a while now, sweetheart.” 

“What, no! I got them on sale last year!” 

“Mm, a likely story,” he said, ducking away just in time to avoid your poke attack. Despite his teasing, he still asked you where the bathroom is, and you nearly let out a long sigh when he’s out of sight. Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest, but you weren’t quite sure why. Were you nervous? Scared? If you were honest, everything about Seungcheol put you at ease; plus, nothing about your interactions with him changed other than proximity. So why did you feel so sheepish when he teased and joked around like he always did?

While he was changing, you finished preparing the hot chocolate, topping them off with some whipped cream, and brought your mugs and your box of chicken into the living room. A small window in your apartment showcased the sky outside, which was dark and dotted with heavy sheets of snow, contrasting with your living room’s warm glow from the light of your small Christmas tree. It made you feel perfectly cozy, especially with the hot cup of cocoa in your palms. 

“Ta-dah! How do I look?” Seungcheol announced, walking out to you. The sight of him grinning at you goofily and clad proudly in the matching pajamas only made the fuzzy more prominent until it made your smile just as wide as his. There it was again-- that perplexing heart beat of yours. It accelerated as he came to take a seat beside you on the couch. 

“A lot warmer!” You handed him his hot chocolate. “Here is the promised beverage. Merry Christmas, Seungcheol.” 

“I was hoping to hear something more along the lines of ‘blindingly handsome’,” he sighed out dramatically, taking a sip of his drink. Immediately, his eyes lit up. “But I’ll let it slide this time, because this is delicious.”

A small giggle slipped past your lips as you watched him drink his hot chocolate with gusto, and when he reemerged from behind his mug, you couldn’t hold back a loud snort seeing how his top lip was decorated with a proper mustache of white cream. You nearly fell over from laughing so hard at his confused expression

“What? What is it?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. Between your bursts of laughter, you managed to point at his lips. He reached up and playfully clenched his jaw when he felt the cream covering his mouth. “Oh, you it’s that funny, huh?” He swiped up some of the remaining whipped cream in his mug onto his finger and reached over to place it on your nose. 

“Hey!” You scrunch your nose. For a moment, the two of you simply looked at each other before bursting into another fit of giggles. “You’re Santa Claus and I’m Rudolph.”

Still chuckling, Seungcheol grabbed a tissue from your coffee table and wiped at his lips, then cleaned off the dollop he had placed on your nose. Your laughter subsided at how such a simple action also felt so intimate. You did your best to avoid his twinkling gaze if only to calm yourself.

 “You know, when I took on the responsibility of warming you up, I wasn’t expecting you to be such a handful,” you admitted jokingly, though some parts of you meant it. Namely your easily excitable heart.

“Oh yeah? Well, I wasn’t expecting you to take so long.” 

You turned to face him once again. “I gave you fresh pajamas and some hot chocolate! You’re still not warmed up?”

“They’re not taking effect fast enough!” he insisted with another of his infamous pouts. 

“Then do you know a faster way?” you asked and almost instantly, Seungcheol expression changes, but this time it’s not a mischievous smile or a childish pout. It’s something softer, gentler. 

“Mm, I might know a quick way to warm up. Do you want me to show you?” he asked. You blinked, gaze meeting with Seungcheol’s eyes as he patiently waited for your reply. Despite the somersaults you felt in your chest, you were now more sure than ever that you didn’t feel nervous. Upon the realization what the feeling really was, your lips easily melted into a soft smile, and you gave him a nod. Without another moment’s hesitation, he leaned over to you and delivered a sweet, chaste kiss on your cheek.

The effect was instantaneous: Seungcheol’s ears were the first to go red as his entire face heated up. “I can’t believe I just did that,” he groaned out, covering his blushing face. “That was so cheesy!” 

“I thought it was cute!” you assured him, but your laughter does nothing to ease his cringing. 

“Don’t look at me for five minutes!” he whined.

“Seungcheol really, it’s okay!” 

“Just eat your chicken or something!”