#i love children i love helping and taking care of them but i doubt id ever have my own. theyd overstimulate me i have a limit

[lovebug-apple]

Yandere!Neglectful Batfam x Batmom!Reader PART 3

With the Batfamily

Everyone had gathered in the Bat cave, surrounding Tim as he looked over the divorce papers. He was struggling. Tim didn’t believe this was real. In fact he thought Y/n was full of shit, and just pulled this little stunt for attention, but he just wanted to be sure. Because if she left the media would get suspicious, and she would disrupt the natural order of the family. 

He didn’t believe it was real…….but it was very very convincing. Almost as if it was real. But it couldn’t be real…right?

Bruce was angry, and worried. He was so enraged that his wife would ever do this to his children-to him. Putting all this unnecessary stress on them, just because she wanted attention. And he didn’t even know how long she’d been gone…..come to think about it, he didn’t know the last time he even spoke to her. That’s what he needed to do!

How could he be so stupid? He just needed to call her phone, and that would be that. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through looking for her contact, only to see the last time it was dialed was 3 years ago. That was a little after Jason came back. How has it been that long? Brushing this aside, he called her, expecting it to be answered immediately, but was surprised when the caller ID said disconnected. This was getting worrisome. The others looked toward him with furrowed eyebrows. When had she disconnected her phone? And what was her new number? Why hadn’t she told him?

As he mulled over these questions, an unknown number called him. Thinking it was his wife, he answered it right away, with his hopes of finding out what was going on skyrocketing. What he didn’t expect was to hear a deep, familiar chuckle. The Joker. It was at this moment that Bruce’s world came crashing down.

With Y/n and the Joker

Y/n woke up with a grunt, the cold steel room being an anchor, bringing her back to reality. She didn't know where she was, and she hoped and prayed that what she did remember was a very unsettling nightmare. She knew, however, that this was false hope as she looked around the room, and saw the Joker leaning against the wall, his goons straying not too far from him. 

“I didn’t think it’d take ya that long to wake up. Although I should expect the Bat never trained ya, huh?” he chuckled darkly, his wide grin sending shivers down y/n’s spine. She knew she was in danger, but she couldn’t help herself from trying to save her case. 

“He won’t come!” she blurted out in desperation. He perked up at that. Seeing that she piqued his interest, she continued. “He doesn’t care about me. He hates me even, they all did, that’s why I was in Jump City……” she hesitated before continuing, “I needed to get away, and I doubt they even knew I was gone. Even if you do tell him you have me, he probably won’t come.”

The Joker was pleasantly surprised. He had already told Bruce, and he seemed to care about Y/n more than anything. He reacted even worse than he did with Jason. So either she was lying, which he doubted she was based on the look in her eyes, or, Bruce realized his mistakes, and was going to stop at nothing to correct it. 

The Joker knew Bruce, better than the back of his hand even, and how Bruce reacted under stressful situations. This however was not just a stressful situation, this was the “love of his life”, and this worried him. Batman had never sounded so angry. While he was lost in thought, Y/n spoke again, voice filled with sadness.

“You already told him, didn’t you?” all she felt was sorrow. She had been kidnapped, and even then, that wasn’t enough to garner attention from her family. She had already lost her parents not too long after she married Bruce, and now she was sure she had no one. “He’s not coming. You might as well just kill me, and get it over with…..” Tears leaked down her face as her voice trailed off.

“I don’t think I will. He seemed to care a lot when I told him I had ya. He was angry.” His smile had widened a significant amount, thinking of all the possibilities to beat Batman. This was going to be fun.

Hope you all enjoy! 😁 😁

@redkarmakai @moonieper @thatpersonnamedrook @madine11-blog @bat1212 @feral-childs-word @resident-cryptid @ch1cky-093 @sweetconnoiseurgardener @sillysealsies @dhanyasri @bloodyboi

[ironmanstan]

Hate people who choose to be around children but can't stand them. Why are you here. You're more annoying to me than any child could ever be. "They're so loud and won't listen to me!!" That's their parents faults not theirs. They're small capsules of energy and they're all very short of course they run around and scream do you know how far you can stretch that energy when your legs are like 2 feet tall.

[gentrychild]

I wish you would write a fic where... Fuyumi dyes her hair pink

Fuyumi left the Himura house so furious that she couldn’t think straight. Dry ice followed her every step and she hoped that her uncle, so devoted to their grandparents, would step on it and break a leg.

“Fuyumi, what’s wrong?”

“She is a beauty, just like her mother.”

She kept walking, too enraged to dare to look back at him because something was going to happen. Something that could land her into Tartarus if she made eye contact, because right now, she hated him. She hated her grandparents. And she hated herself.

How could she not have seen that coming?

Her grandmother, telling her to please visit, because her health wasn’t so good and seeing her granddaughter would surely make her feel better.

Only to find both her grandparents, her uncle, looking in perfectly good health while they were sitting next to her suitor, a man that was looking for a bride with the right quirk.

“She has a very strong ice quirk. Almost too strong, if that can exist.”

“If it upset you so much, why didn’t you say so?”

Because she had been too stupid to make a scene She hadn’t dared to react, to show their dirty laundry to a stranger, and now, she was running because the anger had been rising and rising and she was afraid it was either going to eat her alive or explode.

“She is such a good cook and she loves children. She is a teacher, after all.”

“You know how grandparents are! They just want you to be happy. And he is a very nice man…”

Her uncle finally caught her – her short legs be damned – and he grabbed her arm.

“She has two brothers and she took such good care of them.”

Fuyumi raised her hand to bat away her uncle’s hand and the next thing she knew, her palm was colliding with her uncle’s cheek. The noise was akin to a lightning strike, her palm started to burn but her uncle’s expression was worth it.

He looked at her like she has gone mad, like he was afraid of her. Like he was just realizing that her quirk was far stronger than his and that the Himura name is half forgotten while the Todoroki name is known through the whole country and abroad.

“Tell your parents that they don’t have a granddaughter anymore. I am done chasing a mirage. Do not call me. Do not try to contact me. And help me, if you ever tried to use contact Shouto or even Natsuo, I will burn everything you hold dear, consequences be damned.”

Whatever was on her face or in her voice, he seemed to believe her.

After that, she went straight home, just holding the rest of her anger, repressing it like she had done all her life. She could do this. Now that she had cut away all ties with her grandparents (really, she was the last one, her brothers hadn’t seen them in ten years), maybe, just maybe things would get better?

She reached her room and took a deep breath, imagining a red cloud leaving with the air she was exhaling. As she did, she felt the anger leaving.

Until her phone rang.

Grandmother was the caller ID.

From that point, things became really simple but slightly chaotic. And loud. Loud enough for someone (she wasn’t sure who) to knock on her door, then knock some more. For said door to be opened then closed in silence.

Her phone met an unfortunate end as it crashed into the wall hard enough to be thoroughly shattered. Other things followed, most of them trinkets offered by her grandmother. Then came the clothes, that needed to be ripped until nothing remained. And finally, various things needed to be frozen solid.

By the time she was done, she felt better. She tied her hair into a ponytail, cleaned her room, and when she walked out of her room, she realized that her father and her brothers probably were in the house.

Maybe they didn’t notice?

She put one foot one foot on the living room and saw the three of them avoiding eye contact. Her father was reading the newspaper, something she had never seen him do. Shouto was also reading but his manga was upside down. And Natsuo was in the kitchen, making tea.

The tea was disgusting infused for too long, but they all drank it. She mentioned that she needed a new phone and her father immediately gave her one, registered to his agency but it would do in the meantime. And Shouto talked about his life in the dorms.

No one mentioned anything about Fuyumi’s outburst.

All in all, the day ended pretty well.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She is a beauty, just like her mother.”

Even with her immediate family being extremely considerate (or scared of her but she was fine with both) and her grandparents’ phone numbers blocked, her grandmother’s words kept following her. Enough for her to start avoiding mirrors again, something she hadn’t done since her teenage years.

Her first impulse was to cut her hair. She had never worn it short and that seemed like enough of a drastic change.

Until she remembered what her mother looked like when she had gotten married.

Hair dye it was, then.

She went to the salon thinking black. It was proper, neutral, and a hair color she could handle.

And yet, somehow, when she came out, her hair was pink.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It suits you.”

Those words quickly replaced her grandmother’s words. She heard it from her family, her coworkers, and her friends. She had more of the latter those days, as she spent less time at home and learned to be more her and less the eldest Todoroki daughter that was supposed to take care of everyone.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You look happier.”

She didn’t feel like she was happier. She felt angrier than before. She felt more melancholic. And less patient.

But she did feel more. And smiled more.

So maybe it meant something.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re not taking that call?”

“No, I guess I’m not.”

“Good for you.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for this family. Back then, I didn’t realize it but you’re the reason we managed to fare so well.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re incredible. I hope you know that.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Slowly, more words were added to the ones that were haunting her. It didn’t replace them. She doubted that they would ever disappear.

But they took more place, until it was the first thing she thought about.

[lemonjoonah]

Wrapped Together (M)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Word Count: 18K Rating: M Genre: Christmas AU, Romance, Drama  Warnings: Protected sex, oral (m. rec.), referenced illness/death of parent, swearing, classism. Summary: Despite your best efforts to keep your head down, to self-preserve and endure what will no doubt be the worst Christmas of your life, you are still roped into volunteering for the hospital's annual gift wrap fundraiser. The enticing factor that lured you out? The promise of a new shift partner, Kim Namjoon. Though your first day together starts off with a slight miscalculation of his skills for wrapping, he soon becomes your essential ally in the fight to get through this lonely holiday season.

| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |

A/N: A big thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for asking me to join her Secret Santa Christmas Collab, this was my first collab ever and I absolutely loved it. And of course to my beta readers @m00nchild-shi​ and @ladyartemesia​ thank you for helping me gain the courage to post this. I hope that this fic is able to bring a bit of comfort to those celebrating the holidays a little differently this year, so please enjoy!

...

-5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Amidst the chatter of the office, a dull rumble reaches your ears and vibrates the desk beneath your fingers, waking you from the repetitive haze of your hundredth call report. The moment of confusion switches to frantic action when your brain finally catches on and recognizes it as your own personal phone. Scurrying through your purse, you nab it just in time, but after checking the caller ID you desperately wish you hadn’t. 

You knew this call was coming, you’ve dreaded it since you felt the first freezing snowflake on the tip of your nose, when you heard the first carol blaring over the radio, and saw the first tacky inflatable gracing a lawn on your street. It happens every year, like clockwork, though this will be the first time she’ll be enlisting one and not two. Unable to put off the dreaded moment any longer, you answer, accepting that if you rip the band-aid off now and decline her invitation to join the wrapping fundraiser, it’ll be one less uncomfortable moment later. 

“Aunt Emma, hey it’s been awhile.” She’s not exactly your aunt, but you’ve known her ever since you and your mother settled down here ten years ago. With little other family nearby she was one of the few you and your mom could always count on. Making your task to turn her down all the more difficult now.

“My dear, how are you holding up? I’m so sorry to do this but I'm calling with some rather unfortunate news.”

“Oh?” You exclaim, careful not to sound too hopeful that you might be free of your heavy burden.

“Yes, well it’s regarding the wrapping fundraiser. I wanted to put you on the same shifts as myself or Maria. I didn’t want to have you alone, since, well, you know... but there are so many rookie volunteers this year. And with you being part of the organization for so long, I was hoping you work with one of them instead for the evening shifts? It’ll just be you and him, do you think you could manage it?”

“I-I uh...” Now this is something you had not expected. You spent the past few weeks worrying about how you might have to work side by side with pitying glances, condolences, and referenced scripture from the usual staff. Any thoughts and prayers for your loss would likely turn you into a pool of tears. Not something you want to happen in public, or private for that matter, but if you are partnered with a newcomer, one who knows nothing of your past, maybe... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “I can do that.”

“I knew you could! I’ll put you down for the weekday evenings from the seventh up to Christmas. You’re off work at four, right? I’ll send you more details later, but do you want me to be there to introduce you to the other volunteer?”

“No!” You blurt out, insisting in a volume far louder than necessary, but you can’t risk her acting on the offer. Introductions when done by Emma are dicey at best, with one solid breath she has the capacity to share every bit of your sad history, leaving you exactly where you’d rather not be. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. No need to put yourself out like that, you can just tell me their name now and save yourself the trip.” 

“Thank you dear, always so considerate. One second let me just grab that for you...” She pauses on the phone line, as you look around your office in worry, not wanting to get in trouble for taking a personal call on the clock. “Ah here it is. You’ll be working with Kim Namjoon...” 

...

-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-

After finishing work you head off to the mall for your first day on wrapping duty. It should be a relatively quiet night, since the majority of the crowd typically disperses at this time, heading home to be with families for dinner. Your own sits in a paper bag on the passenger seat of your car. A solitary meal as you battle the rush hour traffic. Finishing off the last of the salted fries with a lick of your fingers while you secure a parking spot. 

Flipping down your visor you scoff when confronted with your appearance, your makeup melted off thanks to the struggles of your earlier shift. You dab and blend a fresh blot of concealer on the dark bags beneath your eyes, determined to erase any evidence of your doleful days and sleepless nights. 

The rented store space is already set up, with a long table propped up right at the entrance. Dressed with a variety of paper and ribbon and looking particularly festive. The other volunteers give you a brief greeting and run down before they leave and pass the duties off to you. With them gone you take a seat, looking down at the selection you have to offer this year, trying with all your might not to focus on the empty chair beside you, one that is usually fill by your-

“Hi, sorry I’m late...” Your gaze flicks up from the table, startled to find a giant of a man. Greeting you with a smile warm enough to melt your frozen expression. 

“H-hi,” You stutter out, staring at his handsome face framed with light brown locks, feeling as though you’ve seen it before, but can’t quite place where. “You must be Namjoon?” You ask, running through the list of actors and singers in your mind but coming up empty on who he reminds you of.

He nods, before confirming your name too, and launching into the reason behind his tardiness. “The traffic was not in my favour today.” He gestures to the table and the vacant seat behind it. “May I?” 

“Of course.” You quickly scoot the folding table over so he can slip by the barrier that separates you from the mall. He takes off his coat to reveal a whole suit beneath, though he soon disposes of the jacket and tie too. You try not to gulp as he rolls up his sleeves in front of you, his arms flexing as they reveal themselves. 

“Pretty quiet?” He asks looking around the mall. 

“It usually is around now, give it an hour or two.”

“Have you been doing this long?”

“A few years...” You mumble, not wanting to dive too deep in that well, you quickly turn to pin the question on him instead. “What prompted you to volunteer? Did Emma enlist you during her recruiting effort?”  

“She did, I found her posting the flyer at my workplace.” Namjoon chuckles. “But I’ve seen you all set up here before, and since my usual Christmas plans with my family have changed, I thought I’d join you all instead.”

“Oh, so you’re not spending Christmas with them?” 

“No, they’ve gone to visit my sister and her family in her city this year. I unfortunately have a few work commitments I can’t get out of to make the trip in time, but rather than just mope about at home I thought I might be of some use.” Namjoon smiles again, his fingers folding the corner of the wrapping paper in front of him. “What about you, any plans?”

“No, I usually spend it with my mom, but she won’t be with me this year...” Or any year going forward, you consider while you give him a weak smile. She was the very reason you joined this organization all those years ago, when Aunt Emma was making her rounds and signing up everyone she could at the hospital, you and your mother were there for an appointment, your mom offered up both of your services lending you to a tradition that would extend for years through her treatment, remission, and the final return. 

“So we're in the same boat?” 

“I guess so.” His grin is so contagious, despite the differences in your situation you can’t help but agree.

Your first client of the evening comes forward and drops a small pile of kids toys in front of you both . “Thank god you're here. If I bring these home unwrapped my kids won’t hesitate to spoil the surprise.” You divide the presents between you and Namjoon while the mother keeps talking and flicking through the different styles of paper offered. “At least if they’re wrapped I can say I saw Santa at the mall and he gave me these early. They are so hard to fool these days.” 

“I take it you’ll want the Santa stickers?” You ask pointing to a closed box behind you, hidden away from the wide and prying eyes of young children passing by. 

“Yes, thank you so much!” 

“No problem.” You assure her while putting the last piece of tape on the stack of video games. Though when you look over to check on Namjoon you find that he has barely even started. He cut off a sheet entirely too big and is attempting to fold it around the boxed animatronic pet. Your eyes stare at the state of the poor paper unable to look away from the crumpled carnage. But the shock soon turns to amusement over his determination to salvage the mangled sheet, and you find yourself biting your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Luckily the woman in front of you hasn’t noticed but once you're finished with yours, you reach over for the assist. 

“Here, I can take over that one. Could you do the ribbon for me?” 

 Namjoon nods opening his mouth in an embarrassed grin. He does manage to secure the strand around the package but loses the spool before he can cut it. The red ribbon rolls all the way to your foot, before you stop it with a tap on the sole of your boot. Namjoon winces, while you let out a chuckle before bending over to hand it back to him, and finish wrapping the other present. 

The attempt at a ribbon curl unfortunately goes the same as the package before it, with him completely at a loss and using the wrong edge of the scissor blade. Trying to save him you make another suggestion. “If you want you can always use the premade sticker curls.” 

Namjoon nods and places them on the two packages along with the vibrant sticker of a cartoon Claus winking as he delivers the warning, ‘Do not open ‘till Christmas, Santa’s watching.’

As you load up the presents into a bag, Namjoon takes to the cashbox, looking expectantly from the client with his dashingly dimpled grin. 

“Oh right.” She comments with an awkward smile. Opening her Gucci bag and matching wallet, the corners of her lips turning down when she rifles through several triple digit bills unable to find any smaller denomination. 

The stand is by donation only, but the implication has always been that one should compensate the fundraiser for the service provided. You can usually tell when someone intends to leave no payment at all, and unfortunately you know this act all too well. She’ll apologize and say that she has to run to the bank and get some cash, but you’ll never see her again. Namjoon, unfamiliar with this ploy, continues to give his eager smile, and to your utter shock she submits, handing him a hundred dollar bill. 

Namjoon thanks her profusely as she melts too under his gaze muttering, “Not a problem.” Before walking off clutching her now wrapped gifts. 

You look to Namjoon in disbelief while he locks the money away in the cash box. Only breaking the silence when the client is fully out of earshot. “How the hell did you do that?!”

“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow completely oblivious to what he just achieved. 

“She... she... you got her to donate, and such a large amount. How?”

“What do you mean how? People give that much all the time don’t they?”

“No, they don’t!” 

“Oh...” He gives you another of his knee weakening smiles. “Sorry I assumed, I guess I’m just used to it.” He scratches at the back of his neck looking down at the table.

“Used to it? Where on earth do you see, do you get used to, that kind of generosity?”

“Through my job I suppose?” His grin turns to a look of embarrassment. “I work in art procurement, currently under contract with the museum. I seek out collectors and convince them to donate or loan out their assets.”

It would seem that getting people to open up their wallets is practically his profession. “Well... looks like manning the cash will be the perfect job for you.” That smile of his is a dangerous weapon, and one you would be remiss not to use in the fundraiser’s efforts. Though it still leaves one question unanswered. “But I have to ask...” Your previously concealed giggling comes to the surface. “Why on earth would you volunteer for a holiday wrapping station if you don’t know how to wrap?”

A blush reaches his cheeks. “Last year when I was here... I left with far more than I was expecting, and feeling as though I should have given more. So I figured if I couldn’t be with my own family, I wanted to do this instead.” He starts habitually folding a paper scrap. “And maybe I’d learn a useful skill-”

When a streak of red is left on the paper trailing behind his finger you jump to interrupt. “Is that...”

“Fuck.” He mutters pulling his index close to examine it. “Yeah, those scissors are sharp, didn’t realize I drew blood though.”

You immediately start rummaging around in your bag. “I know I have a couple in here, one second.” You pull out a small box of bandages and peel apart the papers to reveal the adhesive.

“You carry band-aids in your purse?” Namjoon asks, with a raised brow.

“You're the one who cut their finger trying to make a ribbon curl.”

“It wasn’t a criticism, sorry I just thought it was... nice.” He holds up the injury and you're careful to wrap the strip around it.

“Yes well,” Your face heats up as you catch yourself lingering. “Try to stay away from the scissors unless absolutely necessary. I’d rather not have to make a trip to the hospital.”

“That would be counter productive wouldn’t it?” Namjoon laughs outright. 

...

Despite you being the only one to wrap you both manage the evening surprisingly well, pulling in a record donation amount.

“You must be good at your job,” you mutter with a smirk, as you finish counting the lockbox. “I’ve never seen people so happy to part with their money.”

“I only showed them how good of a job you did,” Namjoon explains. “I’ve never seen someone put so much care into wrapping.” 

“First impressions for a gift can be important too.” You justify as you secure the cash in a deposit bag. “They put a lot of care into selecting the gift, why shouldn’t I exemplify that?”

“Even the gift cards?”

“Especially the gift cards. I have to make them memorable somehow don’t I?”

“True.” Namjoon concedes, with a small frown.  “Listen I’m sorry if I didn’t make a good first impression on you myself. If you want I can call Emma and we will find someone else to help you.”

“No, I enjoyed working with you. It just caught me off guard that you didn’t actually know how to wrap. If you get bored of handling the cash I could try and teach you if you’d like... you said you wanted to learn right?”

“You’d be willing to show me?”

“Definitely, though let's stick to the premade ribbon curls. I’d rather not have to use anymore band-aids if I can avoid it.” 

After pulling down the gate and locking up the station up behind. Namjoon accompanies you to the bank to drop off the deposit before you part ways for the evening, with you going out one exit and him another. 

The sudden blast of cold air forces you to huddle in your coat, and crank the heat the very second you step into your car. As the windows to thaw and frost retreats, you spot your tall wrapping partner waiting at the bus stop. 

“Now why would he...” You’re left perplexed judging from the description of his job and quality of his attire you assumed him to drive some sort of flashy car, never would you think he would take public transportation. 

You drive over and stop right in front of Namjoon, rolling down the window. “Where do you live?”

“The Swan Estates, but if you don’t leave near there that’s fine I don’t mind bussing home.” Namjoon looks down the road. “It should be here soon.”

“It’s no problem, I pass by that area on my way home.” You reach across the car for the handle opening the door. “Come on get in. It’s too cold to wait for a bus.”  

Namjoon nods, and eagerly hops into the car holding his hands close to his vents with a sigh. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I didn’t think to ask, I just assumed-”

“That I could drive?”

You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time. 

“As you saw earlier I’m rather accident prone. I think it’s safer for everyone if I leave the driving to others.” He chuckles looking out the window. “What about you? When not rescuing people from cold transit stops or wrapping disasters, what do you daylight as.”

You grimace at the question knowing your answer is nowhere near as impressive as his. “I’m a phone-rep for Interlude Shipping, I work in their tracking department.”

His reaction is not the usual glazed expression you get when you reveal that you work in a call centre, but a look of awe. “You must be so busy this time of year, how do you have energy for volunteering too?”

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you like it there?”

“It’s... a paycheck. I needed a full time position with benefits right out of school and that was what was available. I would have preferred something else but...” You stop yourself, scolding how much you almost revealed. Finding it far too easy to talk to Namjoon. He doesn’t pester you to continue but lets your abrupt end linger in the silence until he points out his house within the estate. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Namjoon nods in agreement with his dimples on full display. “Looking forward to it. Thanks again for the ride.”

After he leaves your car another nervous giggle you’ve been holding in finally escapes you. Three weeks working with this kind, considerate and downright gorgeous man. Though there’s no ring on his finger, he has to be attached to someone. Men like him don’t walk around single for long. Your shoulders fall at the thought, despite the fact that you have no intention of forming an attachment at this time... it’s still too soon. 

Before you even pull out of Namjoon’s driveway, your phone vibrates from the cup holder you stashed it in. Aunt Emma’s name popping up on the display. You press the green button to accept and put her on speaker while you pull out onto the road. 

“Hello my dear, just checking in to see how the first night went?” 

“Good, no great actually. I think you’ll be happy with the result.”

“And your partner? Everything working well with him?”

“Yeah,” You confirm looking up in the rearview mirror taking one last look at Namjoon’s house. “He’s really nice, we already have a system in place so I think we’ll work well together.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. I was worried at first, wondered if I had made the right decision-”

“You did!” You encourage her, not wanting her to change her mind, and make another switch.

“Great, so we’ll carry on as is then. I’ll message Maria to let her know, I think she’s still on shift at the hospital though...” Aunt Emma mutters to herself. “Speaking of which I had to stop by there today and guess who was asking about you?” 

You freeze in the front seat of your car, unable to say his name, but that doesn’t stop your chatty Aunt from continuing on despite your silence. 

“That Jackson, such a nice young man, it’s a pity you-” 

“Aunt Emma, I’m so sorry but I should go. ” You cut her off unwilling to listen to her disappointment over your own personal matter. “It’s getting late and I have work in the morning.”

“Oh of course, no problem dear. Call me if you need anything.” 

When you arrive at your cold and empty apartment. The silence greets you with the usual punch to your gut, just as it has for the past eight months. She should be there to say hello and ask you about your day, just as she always had. But all that’s there to welcome you is the stack of dusty Christmas decor boxes thrown in the corner of the living room. Unwilling to spend another minute alone you sulk off to bed, ready to put another day behind and start the next. But for the first time in a while, you are actually looking forward to a fraction of the never ending cycle. 

...

Whoever said Christmas time is the most wonderful time of year, clearly never worked a customer service job. They’ve never been yelled at for four hours straight, gone to lunch, and then endured another four. With a couple weeks still left until the looming deadline of Christmas you can only imagine what you’ll have to listen to in the coming days. The woes of a parent trying to track down their child's number one gift... it’s enough to send chills down your spine. Just once you’d like to find someone happy on the other end of the line, someone who didn’t need something from you, someone who called just to say hi, and indulge you with a friendly chat. 

With the last call of the day done you throw on your coat, and bolt out of the office before anyone else. Elated by the fact that you have somewhere else to be, happy that someone else is expecting you. Namjoon beats you to the station today, chatting with the other volunteers as they leave. One of them pats you on the arm and delivers a sad smile, you seize with fear and the worry that they had discussed you, but when you find Namjoon beaming without a hint of concern the weight lifts and you can once again forget your loss for now. 

“Hey, how was work?” He asks.

“Good... good.” You cover with a smile not wanting to drag him down. He doesn’t look convinced his eyes narrow and the corner of his lip twitches, but you reciprocate before he can confirm. “How about your day?”

“Quiet, I’ve spent the past few months alongside the curators putting together an exhibit and with it finally finished all that’s left is to wait until it’s over.”

“So you had to stay here for Christmas only to wait for it to end? That’s too bad.”

“There are a couple other tasks I have to attend, an auction, and an event for the patrons, but the tear down on the 24th is pretty important, some of the lenders will want their pieces back in time for Christmas.”

“That’s such a miserable deadline for so much work. Why would they ask you to give up your Christmas Eve to do that? Surely it can be done after the holiday can't it?”

“Not this one, it’s ‘The Gift of Christmas’ Past’ exhibit,” Namjoon explains. “Many people were good enough to donate their family heirlooms for the majority of the season, but come the actual holiday, it’s time for them to return home.”  

You just about fall off your chair in awe. You’ve seen that exhibit advertised everywhere, even been tempted to go yourself, but the thought of going alone has prevented your attendance. “I had no idea, that’s such a popular exhibit, you worked on that?”

“I did, I even helped come up with the idea for it.” Namjoon beams, with a small amount of red rises to the surface of his cheeks. “The curators at the museum have been more than accommodating. I never thought I’d get the chance to step into their roll myself. I was lucky to be given the chance, so you can understand why I had to stay and help them once it’s finished. Of course it’s given me some other opportunities I would never have had in the past too, like the ability to help you here.” 

You nod still looking at him in admiration, while in your mind a further divide falls between you. As friendly as he is to you, it’s obvious that he’s way out of your league. Even if you wanted to pursue something more with him, someone of his status... really it’s a wonder he even looks in your direction, let alone chose to volunteer at this tiny holiday wrapping station.  

Your conversation is interrupted by a mall goer with a bag of gifts. Namjoon helps as best he can, supplying you with tape as he learns over your shoulder. Loaning you his finger to help you knot the ribbon around the gifts. With a sizeable donation left in Namjoon’s care you are both left alone at the table again.

Between clients you do your best to show him how to wrap the small boxes and ready cut paper at your disposal. Though his folding has improved, his use of tape can be considered... excessive. “You shouldn’t need more than three pieces on a present like this.” You chuckle as you catch his hand before it can apply the seventh piece of tape. 

“But your packaging looks so durable compared to mine. How is it supposed to hold together if not for more tape.”

“Years of practice with tighter folds and better adhesive placement.” You analyze his work. “You might be an up and coming art curator but wrapping is my craft.”

Namjoon laughs and grabs a fresh sheet along with the scissors. 

“Should I go fetch my band-aids?” You ask, gazing at the sharp implement with trepidation. 

“No I’ve got this, I’m ready to earn my redemption.” Namjoon folds the paper several times before cutting a rounded edge. “Wrapping might not be my forte, but this I mastered long ago.” He opens up the paper grinning madly as he reveals a perfect snowflake.

You giggle at the innocence of the piece in question. “That is quite impressive, when did you become such a proficient?”

“I’d say I peaked at eight. One evening when it was just my sister and I, we covered my whole house with them. Every surface, every window, plastered with paper snow. Though my parents were less than enthused I like to think of it as my first full art show.”

“What on earth possessed you to do it?” You ask, trying to imagine the look on his parents as they returned home to the indoor flurry.

Namjoon looks up with a heavy expression, for such a lighthearted story why does he look so wary to tell you “A mutual fri-”

But as chance would have it he is once again interrupted by another coming to your station. When the post dinner rush hits you hardly get another chance to chat. 

...

-2 Weeks Until Christmas-

The week passes in much the same way as the past two days, but with each evening session Namjoon is able to improve upon his wrapping skills a little more. To the point where you are comfortable to leave him alone for a few minutes to man the station.

“You’re sure it’s all right if I just run to the washroom for a minute?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I could put up the be back in five minutes sign if you-”

“Go, I can hold down the fort... just leave the band-aids.” You are ready to let out a big sigh when Namjoon holds up his hands in defeat. “Just kidding, I promise, now go.”

You hurry off as fast as you can swearing when you find a line up. By the time that you are finally able to return you find Namjoon finishing up with an attractive woman and her single gift. You smile at her as you join him behind the table, she pauses, caught off guard for a moment but then hands him the donation along with a slip of paper. 

Namjoon opens it as she walks off. Blushing profusely before throwing it in the trash along with the wrapping scraps. 

“What was that about?”

“Nothing... she just must have gotten the wrong impression.”

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Namjoon nods looking down with guilt. 

“And you're not going to keep it? She was gorgeous.”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Right, I assume that wouldn’t go over well with your girlfriend.” You speculate, seeking to figure out his status once and for all.

“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.

“Boyfriend?” 

“No boyfriend either.” Namjoon smiles. “I just wasn’t looking to get her number.”

You look at him in disbelief. If she wasn’t good enough, there’s no way in hell you could ever dream of being with him.

...

The drive home in the evening is rather quiet. Namjoon’s fingers drag across his lips as if in deep compilation. 

“Any big plans for your couple days of freedom?” With Aunt Emma’s team working the weekend that gives both you and Namjoon some time off, but unfortunately apart. 

“What? Oh yes, I suppose.” He answers as though you dragged him from a stupor. “I have an auction to go to tomorrow for work.”

“Buying art for the museum are you?”

“Not exactly in the market to buy. But if you're not busy you should come along, I would love some company.”

“Not because you would love a drive?”

“No, not at all, I was planning on booking a car tonight. I could come pick you up on the way.”

You shake your head. “No, if we’re going together I’ll drive. No need to waste your money on something like that. What time should I pick you up?”

“I’ll have to double check and get back to you but likely late in the morning?” You nod in agreement as he pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?”

You give it to him and your cell vibrates in your pocket as he sends off a text a second later, leaving you with his own.  

“So I guess I will see you tomorrow now then.”

“It’s a date.” Namjoon smiles as he gets out and leaves you in the car. 

You snort in disbelief, staring after him while he runs off to the front door of his house. No, there’s no way, he can’t be serious, it’s not a date, date. The phone vibrates again, reminding you of the unread message he sent, prompting you to look at it before you drive off home.

This was the only phone number I actually wanted.  See you tomorrow,  - Namjoon  

...

You lie in bed caught between denial and anticipation for what’s to come in the next day. Every moment that excitement bubbles up inside, you are forced to push it down with the weight of scepticism. Namjoon was looking to distract from his lonely Christmas, you are just the band-aid to his superficial wound, but would that be so bad? Haven’t you been using him the past week in the same manner, a mode of distraction? The only difference is the depths of your injuries. While his might be a simple cut repaired by time, yours is a laceration straight to the heart, damage that will soon bleed through a flimsy bandage, but at least you can hide it for now, you can conceal the extent of your misery and enjoy the comfort that is him for the holiday. Ripping that band-aid off won’t hurt, not compared to the damage that has already been done.

You look back at your phone smiling at his message, confirming that this is what you want for now, when to your surprise another comes in. 

KNJ: Are you awake? 

You double check the time, 12:23 a little late for a friendly chat isn’t it?

YN: Yeah, everything okay?

KNJ: That depends, what are your thoughts on Hallmark Christmas movies?

You pause in confusion, questioning his motives for such an odd query. Coming up dry you can give him the most truthful answer you can. 

YN: They’re chestnuts.

KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔

YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥

Your phone starts ringing a second later, the caller Namjoon. You pick it up to hear him laughing on the other end. “I’ll have to remember that. You up for burning a film? I could use another open fire, there’s a pretty horrible one on their channel right now.”

“I’m sure I could spark an ember of criticism. How bad are we talking?”

“There’s a made up country, a town that looks like it exists solely for the purpose of celebrating Christmas-”

“And let me guess, a prince?”

“You know it?”

“Nope, just following the trend of tropes.” You grab your earbuds and venture out to the living room wrapped in your blanket, a beverage in hand, and ready to turn on your own TV. With one bud lodge in your ear to listen to Namjoon the other is free to take in the cringeworthy dialogue. “My god why were you watching this?”

“Couldn’t sleep, and I thought this would also help put me in the Christmas spirit, but I can’t stop laughing at how bad it is.” Namjoon chuckles deeply as the heroine stumbles over a mere pebble and falls into the hero’s arm. 

“I don’t think you have any right to laugh at that part.” You join him in laughter. “You two appear to have some similarities.”

“Wait, so does this make me the clumsy lead and you the dashingly perfect love interest?”

“Oh most definitely, I’ll be saving your Christmas.”

“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”  

You’re thankful that Namjoon isn’t there to see your response, silently choking on your glass of water, followed by spilling your sip all down your shirt, further emphasising your next point. “I’m not perfect.”

“Well you should let me see that side sometime, or I will continue to feel like this poor woman who is confronted with someone way out of their league.” 

Namjoon thinks that you're out of his league? “No, I’m sorry but in order for me to save your Christmas based on this movie I have to play the perfect hero.” Of course the leading lady swoons in her prince's arms. “I just wish the characters had more depth, I’ve read kids books with a wider emotional range.”

“Me too. And the timing,” Namjoon scoffs. “It’s always so perfect. They always meet at the perfect moment and latch on immediately only to have everything work out in their favour, and it all claims to be a Christmas miracle, it doesn’t work like that.”

“That sounds like someone’s been scorned before on Christmas.”

“Not scorned no. More like a missed opportunity, one that I’ve regretted for a long while.”

 “Anything I can help with?” You ask. “As the supporting lead that is my mission is it not?”

“Maybe, I’ll have to think about it. Unfortunately my dilemma isn’t so easy to solve.”

“I don’t think anyone's dilemma’s are ever as easy or clear cut as theirs.” You yawn as you lay down on the couch and watch the pitiful drama unfold. “Their world is perfect and always has their back through some sort of mystical power or being.”

   “I think people in the real world call that god...” Namjoon chuckles.

“Yeah well, our god is a shitty writer if this is what their creations come to expect.” You murmur, stifling a yawn.  

“Is that a crack in your shining armour I spy?”

“No, just commentary.” Though your own internal defences are askew, and the longer you watch the more you understand why. It’s jealousy, jealousy of how quickly they overcome any tragedy, and how they do so with a picture perfect life, as if the creators left all the negative emotions, the realistic impacts of trauma, on the cutting room floor. If only you were that perfect love interest that Namjoon wanted you to be... maybe you can keep the facade until the end of the holidays, at least one of you can have a better Christmas for it. 

All you have to do is continue ignoring the most painful parts, a practice you are well versed in considering the boxes still looming in the shadowy corner, still unmoved after all this time. You know nothing good will come from unpacking them, there is no comfort inside, the only thing that could help is long gone, the story which your mother used to read to you every Christmas before you moved here. You’ve hunted through those boxes so many times while she was still here with you, but now that she’s gone you don’t even have the desire to look, nor the strength to store them away. 

...

You wake hours later with a loud crumpling sound in your right ear. Your bud still in place, and your call time continues to count past the 7 hour mark. “Namjoon, are you there?” You inquire with a groggy yawn. 

“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?” 

“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t worry I did too. But unfortunately I seem to have lost an airpod at some point in the night.” The rustling continues as he chats to you. “I refuse to lose another to this couch, it’s taken so many from me already, you’ think I would have learned by now.”

“Oh, then this is a regular occurrence for you? Chatting up women until you fall asleep,” you scoff.

“No! God no, I just usually fall asleep listening to music and then my cushions eat them when I lower my defences.”

“I leave you to battle it out with your sofa, but what time should I pick you up?” 

“Eleven okay with you?” 

You double check the clock, ensuring you have enough time for a shower and to look presentable. “Yeah that works. I’ll see you then.”

...

You pull into the packed parking lot of a large warehouse. With Namjoon looking dapper in a blazer and peacoat. You yourself are glad to have chosen to dress a bit classier than your usual garb for a Saturday afternoon. When he said it was for work you couldn’t risk dressing down. 

But there is still an air of confusion about your reason for being here. If he’s not attending to buy something for the museum or a client, why is his presence required? The items up for auction are not exactly what you expected, with the majority of it being furniture and woven rugs. You tilt your head in confusion as Namjoon eyes up an old wooden desk. 

“Sorry,” He mutters, seeing you as he comes to from his distracted state. “I have a personal weakness for such items.”

“Don’t be, but is that why we're here?”

“No, although it is tempting.” He nods over to a collection of old black and white sketches on the wall across from you, graphite scenes of the city from long ago judging by subject matter and the yellowing of the paper behind the frame. “They’re the real reason we’re here. When I heard of this estate sale I knew that some of those works would likely come to market. I’m here to find out who buys them, and hopefully see if we can secure a possible loan for the museum in the future.”  

“So how do you do it? How do you convince them to part with such pieces other than that dangerous smile of yours?”

Namjoon humours you, flashing his most coveted weapon. “Many of the artworks found at estate sales like this, they’ve fallen into disrepair. They often haven’t been cared for, likely kept in some musty room where the humidity damages them. The museum has a team of top rated and highly respected conservators who would be able to properly preserve it and slow any further deterioration, and in exchange for their services we ask for a short term loan of the art. 

“A win-win.” 

“I like to think so, but some people are rather protective of their investment. It can be a tricky negotiation which I have been on both sides of when I worked for the private sector.” 

“Which do you prefer more?”

“Definitely the public. The museum doesn’t pay as much, but the audience and notoriety far greater. I really hope that I can continue my work with them once my initial contract ends.”

“I assume securing this for them will help in that goal?” You nod to the pieces, admiring the sought after collection. 

“One can only hope. Who knows, maybe I’ll get my Christmas miracle like the movies promised.” He jokes, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you on. 

While you and Namjoon continue to look around at the lots up for bidding, he proceeds to fawn over the wooden art and furniture, taking pictures and looking up the makers. 

You can’t help but enjoy his interest, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth gasp when he’s found something which intrigues him. “Have you ever purchased something for yourself at one of these?” 

“A few things, tables, chairs, and books too. It’s a great place to find unique pieces, or things lost to the past.” He gives you a shy smile. “Is there anything you’d like to look for?”

A possible item springs to the forefront of your mind. “Do they have any books here now?” 

Namjoon grins at your request and leads you over to several crates filled to the brim with books. All the copies inside look to be older editions of epic novels, nothing like what you hope to find. Your heart sinks as you let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Can I help?”

“Nah, I think I’m out of luck. I was looking for a kid’s picture book. I briefly met someone at the wrapping station who found a copy second hand, must have been at a sale like this. I was hoping I would have the same success, but that seems like a bit of a far reach.” Had it not been their gift to someone else you would have made them an offer for it or even gotten their name at the very least, but you were so distracted at the time... all you can see and remember to this day was the book in front of you.

“I’m sorry-” Namjoon starts with an unnecessary apology, it wasn’t his fault that you lost the favourite book of your youth, that you missed the chance to give your mother one last glimpse of the pages with you before she passed.

“It’s fine,” You cut him off not wanting to dwell on the loss or risk deteriorating that perfect cover right here in front of him, in front of everyone, when he has something important to attend to. “Should we go find seats before they start the auction?”

Namjoon nods, seeming to examine your eyes with careful study, but he will find no tears, no dampness there, those are locked away tight. He escorts you to a seat near the back. “This way we can get a better view of those bidding without looking out of place.”

The auction lots pass by with many remaining silent. Namjoon points out several antique dealers to you that are snapping up many of the pieces. But the rest of the buyers all appear to be waiting for the same prize that Namjoon is. 

“Do you have any favourites to win?” You whisper to him as the collection is carried into view.

“I’m hoping for anyone I’ve dealt with in the past.” Namjoon nods in the direction of a middle aged woman dressing in a fur trimmed coat and strands of pearls draped around her neck. “Mrs. Coleman already has a few works in one of the exhibits, and Mr. Roth over there.” He turns to a man wearing a tweed jacket and a sturdy wooden cane in hand. “Is one of the most notable patrons of the museum.”

Silence falls in the room as the auctioneer takes up the gavel again and describes the works. Many around you sit up a little straighter as Namjoon’s eyes dart around at those he thinks might attempt to purchase.

The bids flood in, with very few gaps for breath as the numbers are rattled off. It takes only two minutes before the going price is more than your annual salary. You lower yourself, pooling in your seat as the extravagant wealth is thrown around you. 

Once the pace slows, Namjoon's face highlights his concern, his eyes glancing back and forth between two people, the older lady in mink he spoke of before, and an unknown man with a cell pressed to his ear. 

As the wooden hammer drops so do the corners of Namjoon’s lips. 

“And sold to the gentleman on the phone number three-two-eight, number three-two-eight for sixty-five thousand.” The auctioneer announces. 

“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“What, what happens now?”

“Now we have an anonymous buyer who I have no ability to meet or advise.” He sighs, hanging his head, with his fingers dragging across his mouth again.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper as he nods next to you taking several deep breaths. Your hand reaches out to his arm and he turns to you with a small smile.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll figure something out, but I might as well make the most out of my time here.” With the auction now over he rises from his seat and approaches one of the museum's patrons with an outreached hand. “Mr. Roth, good to see you, you’ll be attending the final night of the exhibit I hope, and who is this with you...”

While Namjoon continues to make pleasantries and exchange business cards you keep your eye on the sketches watching as they are rolled behind the desk and packed away in crates. You approach the area where one of the clerks is recording and distributing the information for the now rightful owners, with a mob of bidders descending on him for their newly purchased items so they might leave as soon as possible. 

It would seem that this business too is feeling the crunch of Christmas. A flurry of paperwork is exchanged in haste passing from one hand to the next, until one signed receipt of purchase escapes his notice and falls to the ground in front of you. Picking it up you wait for the crowd to clear, giving the clerk a chance to recover before you approach with the lost sheet, setting it on the desk before him. His confused gaze soon changes to outright shock over his loss when he realizes what you’ve returned.

He thanks you profusely, causing you wonder how much strife he would have encountered had you not been there to return it. “No problem, you look like you have a lot on your plate.” You smile politely, attempting to soothe your fellow casualty of the Christmas rush. “I just have a question for you though, if that’s okay?” 

“Not at all how can I help?” He agrees, his stance far more relaxed than it was with the horde a few moments before. 

“My friend, he was hoping to get in contact with the purchaser of those sketches there, on behalf of a museum. I don’t suppose there’s any way we could get a hold of them, is there?”

“I’m sorry but not at liberty to divulge that ma’am.” Your rising hope falls, you knew it would be a long shot but you didn’t want to leave without trying. “However... if there’s a phone number or information regarding the museum’s interest I can include that in the paperwork to send off along with the purchase.”

“Really? You would do that?”

When the clerk confirms, you immediately turn on your heel and take a step in Namjoon’s direction before bumping into his solid chest, not realizing that he had already come to find you. 

“What are you doing-”

“Getting you that miracle.” You grab one of his business cards from his hand, and turn back around to give it to the clerk who tucks it into the envelope along with the other documentation. “Thank you.” You smile at the clerk who returns the gesture.

“And you said I have a dangerous smile?” Namjoon mutters as he leads you away with a chuckle. “What did he say exactly?”

“That he would include it with the paperwork for the sale. I just hope they will reach out and call you.”

“Me too.” Namjoon smiles, but it doesn't quite appear to reach his eyes. “Shall we head out. I think I’m done here.”

The drive home is rather quiet, the weight of Namjoon’s gloom hanging in the air and he makes no attempt to hide it. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just trying to figure out where to go from here,” he groans. “Those sketches were going to be the start of something new for me. I know the buyer might still come through but I’m not going to hold my breath. I need to keep searching for what comes next, I’m just a little lost, but I’ll find my path again soon.”

“You make it sound so easy.” 

“Sometimes it is, sometimes life will drop it right in front of me and other times I will have to search for it, but that’s a problem for after the holidays.” Namjoon looks out his window at the lights which start to come alive as you drive home. “Are you ready for the big day?”

“Christmas?” You give a nervous laugh, “No, I haven’t even put up any decorations.”

“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm. 

“Just haven’t really felt the need this year. There’s no one there to enjoy them but myself.”

“Which makes it all the more important to put them up.” Namjoon sits up in his seat, his whole persona changing. “I could help you if you’d like?”

You wince over the quandary. With your decorations sitting in your living room under an inch of dust it might arouse some confusion, and his heart would likely sink if he knew how long they actually rested there for. “I’m not sure I’m quite ready for it yet. Maybe another time?”

...

-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-

Work continues to degrade as the countdown progresses. The only thing getting you through the shifts is the thought of Namjoon’s help at the stand. But as soon as Christmas is over, you wonder if your friendship will go the same way as the festive season, cast aside like the wrapping of the gifts you tended to in the weeks prior. 

After a few days of busy shifts you’re both thankful to make it to another close. But when you are packing up the station Namjoon’s phone starts to ring. He looks down in confusion at the number without a contact attached. “Do you mind?” 

“No, not at all.”

He grins as he answers the phone pacing further back into the vacant shop space and away from the sounds of the echoing mall. You continue to count off the deposit, and roll the wrapping paper. Trying your best not to listen, to give Namjoon his privacy, however you can’t help but notice the happiness in his tone, spotting his dimples from across the room when you sneak a glance. When you grab to move the last box of bows Namjoon ends his call. Tears glisten in the corners of his eyes accompanied by the widest smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“That was- that was the buyer.” He explains as he comes to help you with the final box, taking it from your hands and placing it on the back shelf. “He wants to meet with me this weekend.”

He’s so close, vibrating with an overwhelming delight. His arms move around you as though he is about to pull you in for a gracious hug. You start to congratulate him as he embraces you, “Really?! That’s gre-” only to be cut off when his lips come for yours instead. Once the shock evaporates, you start to appreciate the heat of the moment, the warmth of his skin, the softness of his mouth. Your hands reach up to his toned shoulders and neck pulling him down, diminishing the space between you. Breathing him in like this with your eyes closed, nothing else matters in the moment, nothing other than his firm chest pushing back against yours, his hands on your waist gripping at your shirt.  

With a deep sigh and a bite to his own lip he pulls back. “Sorry I just-”

“Don’t, don’t apologize.” You cut him off this time.  

“I can’t even begin to thank you.” 

“I hardly did anything.” You laugh at the extremeness of his appreciation, though a small part of you dies when you realize his kiss was nothing more than a gesture of gratitude.

 “That’s not true...” He responds, giving you his wide eyes and a shy smile.

On the drive home your companion can barely contain his delight, breaking into random smiles and laughter as he informs his coworkers of the success via text. 

“There’s this event...” Namjoon starts, as you pull in front of his home. “At the museum on the twenty-third, a week from today, I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.” 

“Next Wednesday? But we have a shift at the wrapping station.”

“I spoke to Emma a few days ago and she agreed to cover if we both wanted to go.”

“Emma, making a change so close to Christmas? I don’t buy it. What did you offer her in return?” You ask with a critical gaze. The woman runs such a tight schedule, only something great or important would have prompted her to agree.

“My next year of service.” Namjoon confesses, he looks down at his feet as though he might buckle from the embarrassment. 

“Next year? You already promised to work it?”

“If you want me there that is. I’ll practice more in the meantime, I promise I won’t leave you to all of the difficult packages.” Namjoon chuckles. “But what do you say, will you go with me?”

“Ye-yeah I would love it’s just...” You stutter trying to come up with a good excuse but your brain draws a blank leaving only the truth. “I don’t know how well... how well I’ll fit in there.”

“What? No, why would you think that?” Namjoon places his hand on your leg while you drive. A move which causes the both of you to pause in reaction and him to retreat. “Trust me when I say you belong there more than anyone else.”

You nod your head and give him a small smile, wishing more than anything his hand would return. “I’ll come if you want me there. What’s the attire?”

“Semi-formal, and don’t worry about driving I’ll pick you up.” 

...

-2 Days Until Christmas-

You stand in front of your mirror, wearing a dress which fits your shape perfectly, but stretches your pocket book significantly. The price tags hanging down from the zipper taunt you, tempting you to rip them away, to commit to the indulgence. Even if it’s only for a night, the payoff in the end might be worth the overpriced lace. You give in with a snip of the scissors and a swallow of guilt, letting the printed cardstock hit your bedroom floor. 

 You’ve spent the past couple of hours leading up to this moment in a fit of stress cleaning, disposing of the dust bunnies. Now at least if Namjoon comes over after... you won’t be completely off guard.

The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.

KNJ: Just pulling in.

YN: Be right down.

Sliding your shoes on and grabbing what you need, you leave your empty apartment with a growing smile on your face. The moment you can see the car from the buildings foyer both Namjoon and the driver exit the vehicle, though Namjoon is quick to wave the driver back to his seat, choosing instead to hold the door for you himself. 

The thoughtful gesture is made more appealing as if it gives you a full view of your date in his dark three piece suit, his hair tamed back framing his handsome face, whose gaze appears to be giving you the once over for you too.

“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.

“Of course, I couldn’t embarrass you now could I? Have to land that first impression.”

“You would never. Besides I’m sure my colleagues will be fascinated to know who has enough courage to teach me how to wrap.”

“And how do you plan on introducing me to those colleagues of yours? As your date or your teacher?” You laugh.

“I was actually hoping I could introduce you as my girlfriend.” 

“Your girlfriend for tonight?” You panic, not expecting this development. “Wait, is this one of those fake dating scenarios? Did you tell them you had one and then-”

“I think we’ve been watching too much Hallmark.” Namjoon laughs and shakes his head. “No this is not one of those scenarios, but I’ll take whatever form of companionship you are the most comfortable with.”

He gives you the stare of a man who is looking for more, but you know he won't need you once the holidays pass. His loneliness is temporary, yours is permanent. You’d rather not get your hopes up only to have them lost as he fades away in the cold gloom of January when his family returns. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Upon arrival Namjoon leads you through the massive doors by hand, taking your coat and checking it. The main hall just off the entrance is filled with patrons and staff all mingling and drinking while dining on tiny hors d���oeuvres. You look at the crowd with apprehension.  

Namjoon’s fingers interlace with yours again, a grip clearly intended to give you confidence. “I’ll introduce you to some of the staff first.” 

Several people congratulate Namjoon on the exhibit as he passes, he responds giving them a brief thank you as he ushers you through the crowd. Stopping at a small group of two, who greet Namjoon with a warm welcome. 

“Thank god you’re here, people have kept asking for the brains behind the exhibit.”

“And why didn’t you answer them.” Namjoon smiles before turning to introduce you to them, following up with the man who just spoke. “This is Eric Nam, a curator who I worked on the project with.”

“Don’t pass the torch, we both know it was your idea, I just helped put it into motion.” His coworker smiles gazing at you. “And you must be the one Namjoon has talked so much about.” 

The heat rises to your face as you look to Namjoon who confirms the statement with his own embarrassment. “Thank you Eric for sharing that with her...”

“No problem, it’s the least I could do for someone who gave you the insp-”

Namjoon coughs and shakes his head, cutting off his verbose friend. 

You're about to question your partner himself when the other colleague of his starts asking you questions. “What do you do for a living Ms....” You remind her of your name while Namjoon spotting refreshments wanders off with a whispered promise to get you both a drink. 

“I-I work for Interlude Shipping, in their tracking department.” You explain clasping your hands together in an attempt to settle your nerves.

“Oh, how nice...” The false quaintness in her tone is matched with a smirk as she takes a sip of wine. “Maybe you can help me find out if my sister’s present will arrive in time tomorrow.” 

“Valerie...” Eric growls. 

“What? I’m merely curious about her employment.” She smirks at him before continuing to her inquisition. “How long have you worked there? Did you have to get a degree for your role?” 

“No,” This is exactly what you were afraid of coming here, you just didn’t think the judgement would be coming from someone who works with Namjoon. “I started there right after high school. I didn’t have the luxury to go to an elite school to work in a place like this.” 

Eric comes over and claps you on the back. “Neither did Valerie; she just has family on the board.” Giving a coy smile to his coworker who scowls and stalks off without another word to you.  “In fact you’ve actually done more work here than her in the past month. I hear you’ve been helping Namjoon secure the collection we’ve been after?” 

You nod looking off after the departed curator, worried as to what impact your interaction could have with Namjoon’s position here.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s just bitter that Namjoon didn’t ask her to accompany him here.”

“Oh, does she- do they-”

“Fuck no, but if she’s not everyone’s first choice she’s not happy.” Eric gets in a little closer. “You don’t have to worry about Namjoon looking elsewhere, if he’s at all hesitant it’s just because he’s a little cautious with you.”

“Why would he be cautious?”

“Why would who be cautious?” Namjoon asks, handing you a drink as he appears by your side again. 

 “Mr. Roth, that man should be careful. I heard he had hip surgery recently.” Eric responds, cutting in with a lie to cover your discussion. “It's good of him to still join us tonight, but enough about that, why don’t you go show her the exhibit before it gets too crowded in there?”

Namjoon offers up his arm in agreement. “I suppose we can get started on the tour, if you’d like.”

“Yes please,” You answer, threading your arm through his. “Thanks again Eric, it was nice meeting you.”

“You too, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” 

The stand next to the entrance bears all the names of those involved in the creation and a countless list of those who loaned out pieces to make it possible. “There’s so many involved, how large is this exhibit?”

“Not too big, you’ll see why there’s such a long list soon.”

When the door opens you find yourself in a hallway amidst what you can only describe as a snowstorm. The walkway, made to look like an alley set adrift in snow, with flickering lights and paper creations hanging from the ceiling. “Did you make any of those?” You ask, grinning as you squint through the flurrying beams.

“No, I left those to the talents of the students who came by on school field trips. It didn’t take them long before we had enough.”

“Find any new prodigies?”

“Several.” He answers, before pointing to the mounted photos on the wall. “But these works here are some of my favourites.” The pictures are framed to seem as though the viewer is looking in through the pains of a window to happy holiday scenes. From unwrapping presents around the tree to the busy crowds of your very own mall, each image sets out to draw from you a sense of nostalgia. 

“I can see why.” You find yourself lingering on the last of the photos by an accredited local photographer, savouring the display as much as you can, worried that it might end too soon. 

“Don’t worry,” Namjoon whispers, taking your hand in an eager urge to press on, “There’s plenty more to look at.” He points to the end of the hallway, where you find another door, though this one is dressed with a knocker and wreath looking as if it’s the entrance to someone's home.

You open the door to reveal a series of rooms connected by one long hallway. The first you step into you washes over you with warmth and comfort, the sound of a cracking fire surrounds you while the light of fake embers flows from the side. Set up through the room are tables of items from old to new ranging from Christmas tree ornaments, and household decorations to handwritten cards. “All of these-”

“Were loaned by families from the region, they gave a piece of their history and traditions up for most of the season so everyone could enjoy it. Over here we have...”

You could spend hours sitting and admiring in this room alone, but more than anything you want to push on more to see Namjoon’s excitement in sharing it with you. Each room features a different spot of the home. A chilly shed with vintage toboggans and sleds, a kitchen, stuffed with cookbooks and the smells of baking featuring countless cookie cutters of every shape and size. 

The next room is a little unusual and different from the rest, throwing you off for a moment, when the distinct scent of pine hits your nose. In the centre you find what look to be the replication of a massive trunk, and above false branches twinkling with lights. All round in a circle you find toys in glass cases spanning generations, when it hits you. “Are we under the Christmas tree?”

Namjoon gives you his coveted dimpled grin. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“I do. I can’t believe you managed all of this.” You exclaim hurrying between each display like a kid on Christmas morning. From wagons, and Rubik’s cubes, all the way to Furbies and gaming systems he has the whole collection of popular toys throughout the years.  

Namjoon beams with pride once you’ve circled the entirety of the fake trunk and the presents beneath it. “Only one room left, but I think you’ll like this one the most.”

You're ushered into the next, a dimly lit space, a bed with a quilted cover stands in the centre, and on the walls you find countless story books, pinned open to so their stunning art is on display, papering the room with climatic holiday scenes and loveable characters. In one you find Scrooge meeting the ghost of Christmas past, in another you witness the Grinch save the sleigh from a perilous fall. Namjoon was right, this is without a doubt your favourite. While people filter in and out, you take your time looking at each set of pages. Your pace slow and steady, until you reach the special story that stops you entirely, the book you lost long ago, and have been trying to find ever since. Drawn on the pages before you is a little blue koala, with a pale purple nose, round ears, and a smile that lights up his face as he cuts out dozens of snowflakes. Namjoon stands behind you with a hand on your shoulder as you gaze at the book you know to be titled ‘Koya’s Christmas.’ 

You take a deep breath, while trying not to bend to the tears that threaten to break from your eyes. Focusing your attention instead to seek out the owner of the book, but unlike most there is no nameplate attached to this desirable artifact. “Namjoon, who loaned this? Is there any way I could contact them?”

When he gives you a sad smile, your gut clenches over the possibility that this might be a similar issue to what happened at the auction, a lender who wishes to remain anonymous. The only difference here being that you’ll fight Namjoon for the information if you have to. You’ve already let this book escape from you last year, you refuse to let it happen again. “Please, I’ll-” Just when you are about to plead with Namjoon’s integrity, another memory of your past walks into the room, but this one unfortunately has more tragic ties. “Shit,” you whisper, shifting to put your date between you and the newcomer. 

Namjoon catching the change in your expression immediately reaches out in concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

“There's someone I know just over there,” You nod in the direction behind Namjoon. “I’d like to avoid him if I can. Sorry, it-it’s complicated. ”

 Namjoon puts his hands on your shoulders, eyeing a path the closest exit without letting go of you. “Do you want to leave?”

“If that’s okay?” And just when you thought you were free, when you were ready to make a break for the door. The man in question, spots you and calls out your name.

You turn to face him, trying your best to keep your tone even and your lips pulled into a smile. “Jackson? Hey, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s been so long, not since...” Thankful he stops, not dragging up the subject you wish to avoid. 

Namjoon moves closer, moving his arm from your shoulder around your waist, a comforting and protective gesture. “Dr. Wang... I had no idea the two of you were acquainted.” 

“You know him?” You ask Namjoon, your concern rocketing over what else your date might become privy to. 

“Dr. Wang was the phone bidder. I invited him here tonight to see the work we do.”

“The exhibit was impressive, I can’t wait to see what you have planned next.” Jackson confirms. 

“I should go and let the two of you discuss-” You ready to step away when Namjoon’s hand grabs yours and Jackson calls your name again.

“No reason for you to leave, we should catch up.”

“May-maybe later?” You plead with him fighting back the tears, pushing down the memories his presence drags up. “Sorry I just, I need to go.”

You pull your hand free and race to the exit.  

“Wait.” You can hear Namjoon call behind you. Though you continue to proceed out the exhibit and towards the closest exit outside, breaking into the cold evening air, only to find that he still followed. “Let me call for the car and we can go together.”

You stop in realization that your running will not deter him, he’ll pursue you unless you give him a reason otherwise. “No you should stay, this is your big event, I won’t ruin it for you.”

“Not without you.”

“Please Namjoon,” you beg, adamant that he return. “I don’t belong in there, I don’t fit in and I never will. Even when I try...” The ghosts of your past have a way of finding you and destroying your facade.

“I’ve told you before you belong in there more than anyone else-”

“That’s not true. I can barely keep myself together. I can’t, I can’t go back in, I'm sorry.”

“I don’t understand, what does Dr. Wang have to do with it? Did he hurt you? Did he-”

“No! No, he did nothing of the sort. Jackson was always very kind to me. Don’t let me affect your plans or any arrangement, you should go back and talk to him, I just can't be there.”  

“You think I’m going to just drop you for him, especially when he makes you so uncomfortable? No, I’m leaving with you.”

“Fuck, just... please listen to me. He is a good man, he’s a good doctor, you would be foolish to give up this chance.”

“A good doctor...” Namjoon pauses as a grimace hits his face. “Does he have something to do with your mother?”

“How-How do you know about that?” 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I swear. It's just, when I was first talking to Emma about you, out of concern she opened up about your past... about your mother, about your loss.”  

“She told you?” Aunt Emma, you should have known she would do something like that, god forbid at least one person not know your history. “Then all of this, these past few weeks were they all out of pity?” You should have known, there was no way he would like someone like you. It was all out of sorrow for what you’ve been through.

“Not pity no, I like you, I like you a lot. When Emma said you were pushing her and so many others away... I concealed it out of fear of losing you too. I wanted you to open up about it until you were ready. I was just trying to help you get through this.”

You look up at the museum, drawing a distressing connection between Namjoon’s daily life and you. “Why? You think I’m some abandoned project you rescued from a deceased’s estate? One for you to mend, and later show like an achievement? You should have just left me where I was, instead of breaking me further.”  

   Namjoon’s hands immediately pull back from you. “I never meant to hurt you. Only help you move on, you can’t deny that you are frozen in place. You have so much more potential, but you're living in denial.”

“I live there because it hurts less...” You snap back in fury, as he exposes your painful flaws. “I live there so I can work, so I can help others.”

“But what about you? When will you let someone help you?”

You step away unable to answer his question, turning your back on him you race to the sidewalk to hail a nearby taxi, refusing to let him see a single tear fall. 

Once home, you crawl into bed after throwing the dress to the floor. This was so far from the evening you had hoped it to be, with you instead left alone to ruminate on Namjoon’s words. Despising all the evidence he laid bare against you, turning it over again and again in your mind until your morning alarm startles you out of your stupor. Signalling for the last shift before your break for the holidays. 

...

-Christmas Eve- 

It’s finally here, the worst of all days at the call centre. With your eyes heavy from a lack of rest you take a seat at your desk with an extra large coffee in hand. On your computer you have this morning's team email pulled up, and attached to it a list of de-escalation tactics. You’ll need them today because if people don’t get their package by the end of the routes this evening, there’s no hope for tomorrow morning. 

The call board on your phone is already lighting up like a Christmas tree, but you know those little embers to be fuelled by wrath, fury and unkept promises of delivery dates.   

You try your best to remain calm during the egregious conversations. Offering up tips and tricks to parents who are worried that this will be the year that their child gives up on Santa because your company failed to deliver. 

Your lunch break can’t come soon enough. But when you finally check your own phone it’s littered with texts from Namjoon. Messages of concern, apologies, and the hopes that he will still see you at the wrapping station tonight. He even sent a picture of your abandoned coat and promised to bring it along. 

Fuck, you had completely forgotten about you wrapping shift together. Just one more night, then you can put it all behind you again. If you can just keep your cover for a few more hours then it’ll all be over and Aunt Emma will have what she was promised. 

You send Namjoon a quick message confirming that you will be there, but not promising any more before you head back to your desk. 

The calls get progressively worse with several people using foul language and demanding to speak to your supervisor, you try to talk them down as best you can knowing any call passed on to the higher ups will reflect poorly on your efforts.

Until one woman calling in search of her package finally wears you down, insulting you, your profession, even your family.

“Ma’am I’m sorry but if you continue to speak to be in such a way I am well within my right to disconnect the call.” A desperate bluff, your superiors would rather them end the call than you, you’ve been penalized for it before, and you’ll be damned if it happens again. But unfortunately she calls your hand.

“You will not! I have spent hours on the line trying to reach anyone. The shortsightedness of your company and staff is all too apparent.” 

“It’s the holiday sea-”

 “I know what time of year it is, but it seems your staff doesn’t realize Christmas is tomorrow!” 

“You ordered your package past the guarantee date, we could not insure-”

“Now you listen to me, if there was any form of intelligence in that office you’d be working hard to ensure that all packages make it out before tomorrow morning, but instead you just sit on your ass fielding phone calls and giving excuses so you don’t have to actually go out and do honest labour. You must be the biggest disappointment to your family, not even having a proper job. How can you go home and face them knowing you've left so many without their gifts?”

With the woman's last insult, something inside you finally snaps, giving you the freedom to do what you’ve dreamed of for so long. “I don’t,” you pronounce, building up to take your final shot at both her and your employment. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to let you go, as I’d rather not listen to your nonsensical bitching. So merry fucking Christmas to you ma’am, I suggest you go spend it with your own family if they’re willing to put up with your pompous ass.” You hang up the phone and pull off the headset, refusing to answer the next blinking light that comes on to replace it.

You just sit there looking at it denying the next caller their chance at verbal abuse, and your company's lax policy to protect you from it. The chatter of apologies continue to echo around you as your coworkers press on, but after the years of abuse you can no longer hold it in. Your company always said that this position was a stepping stone to greater things, that opportunities would come you just had to wait a little longer, but after being shackled by circumstances, and no forthcoming higher step to take, you refuse to press on any longer. 

...

You pull into the mall parking lot, far too early for your slot at the wrapping stand, with the contents of your desk now stationed in the trunk of your car. Taking refuge in the women's bathroom cleaning your face of the tears you shed on the way over as you try not to think too much about what you’ve just done. After refusing to concede and admit to any wrong doing you quit, telling them to shove their shitty policies right back where they came from.

Namjoon was right... and with the mall closing early tonight you’ll only have two hours with him, two hours to smooth the tension over and allow for an amicable goodbye while maintaining your cover. 

He’s already waiting for you, with your coat in hand, when you show up. The look of pity that you never wanted to see grace his face directed at you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine... I just would prefer if we didn’t talk about last night. I’m sorry for what I said, and now I just want to let it all go if that’s okay with you?” You smile up at him extending the olive branch.

Namjoon nods looking down at the floor as his hands habitually fold a scrap piece between his fingers. The silence between you is drowned out by the carols echoing down the emptying halls of the mall.

“Didn’t expect it to be so slow.” Namjoon mutters after what seems like an age with no one coming to the stand.

“On Christmas eve? Yeah generally people are home by now, spending time with their-” You force yourself to stop, unable to say a word which will bring sorrow to your heart and loneliness to Namjoon’s.  

 “I’m sorry I can’t do this,” Namjoon interjects. “I want to talk about last night, I need to talk about it.”

“Now is not the time.”

“There’s no one here but you and me. It’s just us, the mall is closing, it's our last shift, if not now when?”

“Anytime but now. The last twenty-four hours have been the worst in my life since-since...” You take a deep breath burying the wave of sadness and regret back down in your chest refusing to let it out. “Please, just forget it okay?”

“Not until you stop shielding yourself like that.” Namjoon scolds you. “I’m tired of you living in fear that your tears will erode your cover, and that your anger will tear it away entirely. I’m tired of you thinking that people will only appreciate you if you maintain this perfectly wrapped state. You might think it’s pretty, that it’s convenient for everyone else, but you are only keeping others out.” 

“Maybe I keep it on so that you won’t be disappointed in what you find when it’s discarded. A sad woman, with no direction, no dreams, unable to cope with loss, and I suppose I can add unemployed to the list now. Is that what you want to see? Is that what you want to find?”

“That’s not all you are... and as for your job, I’m sorry but fuck it. It’s about time you moved on to better things, that place was only holding you back, you deserve so much more.”

“No I don’t, do you want to know why I worked there? Do you? I took that job to make sure she got the care she needed. I promised her when she got better I would quit and find something else, but she never did. But if I leave now I’m accepting the fact that she’s gone... that she doesn’t need me anymore, because I couldn’t do enough to keep her here.” The first tear falls breaking through the long standing divide.

“Staying there wouldn’t have brought her back. Tormenting yourself by remaining frozen in place, won’t bring her back. It’s Christmas for god sake and you are being kind to everyone else but yourself.” 

“This isn’t Christmas for me. If it was, she would be here... not you. I’m tired too. I'm so tired of looking at her chair and- and-”

Namjoon wraps his arms around you pulling you forward as your emotions tear through the shroud. He moves you to the back of the vacant store sitting you among the boxes. “I’ll be right back okay?” You nod, while he tugs the table in and drags the gate down to indicate that you are now closed. When he returns his eyes too are starting to redden. His hands brush through your hair, the side of his palm pressing on your cheek and catching your tears. After seeing one of his own fall you crush yourself against his chest, clinging harder to him than before. His lips touch the top of your head, his hands rubbing on your back and arms as he waits, waits for you to be the first to pull away. The lights for every other store shut off around you the music lowers, all that’s left is the retreating chatter of those going to celebrate the eve of Christmas, and still you hold on to him. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good substitute.” He whispers, encouraging you to finally lean back and admit your denial, accepting his efforts to help, when you yourself wanted to do the same for him. 

“Don’t say that, it was never going to be a happy holiday for me, just something I needed to get past. But for you, I at least wanted to make yours better, I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good one either.”

“You never were a substitute. You were the one I wanted to spend the holidays with. A different Christmas than usual but no less enjoyable.” 

“That’s sweet of you to say.” You smile, but you doubt it’s true. “I suppose we should go...” 

“What about all the supplies?”

“Emma will come by in a few days to collect it all.” You grab the small donation from the lock box and seal it in the plastic pouch, while Namjoon rummages through his own bag. “Do you still want a ride home?”

“If you're offering, I would love one.” The flap of his satchel closes as he stops his search and instead goes with you to the bank and finally your car. You hadn’t checked the forecast for tonight so finding your car buried in a few inches of snow comes as an unexpected sight. At least with Namjoon’s help cleaning it off is a quick task.

Once inside you both warm your hands on the sputtering heater, changing them on the wheel as you continue to thaw your fingers while you drive. 

“Do you have any plans for the next couple of days?” Namjoon presses, though hesitant in his tone.

“Maybe look for some jobs, and take a good long nap?” You answer with a dark chuckle, still preferring to miss the entire holiday if you could. “You?”

“No, nothing in mind. But if you wake up and want to come over, you're more than welcome to spend it at my place.”

You return both hands to the wheel as the road becomes more difficult to drive on, your tires slipping here and there on the ice beneath the snow. “I’ll think about it, though depending on how much snow we get tonight we might both be stranded at home.”

You pull through the neighbourhood gates and up Namjoon’s driveway. With the car stopped he once again dives into his leather bag and pulls out a thin rectangular gift he looks to have wrapped himself. Dressed as per usual, with far to many pieces of tape, he hands it over to you. “I know this won’t make up for everything, but I want you to have this. Consider it a very belated Christmas gift.” 

“Belated? But Christmas isn’t until tomorr-” You take the present and succeed in pulling back the wrapping to reveal the book that you were reunited with just the night before. “Oh...” You look up from the cover to find the return of the sad smile on his face you saw in the museum. “But if this is late then, last Christmas, it-it was you? You were the one at the stand... with this?”

...

-One Year Ago-

You are counting down the hours and minutes until the mall closes, until you can pick your mother up from her doctor's appointment and head home, to your promised tradition of putting up the decorations. The past few weeks have been so busy, with work, volunteer shifts, and her treatments at the hospital, you’ve made it all the way to Christmas eve with the tree and ornaments still packed away in boxes, sitting in the corner of your living room since December first. 

Aunt Emma is currently taking your mother’s position at the cashbox, thanks to the scheduling of the last minute check up. You light up your phone again checking the time, only an hour left. 

“You can head out if you want my love,” Aunt Emma offers while swaying and humming to the carols. “It’s quiet enough for me to manage myself.”

You grin embarrassed by your desire for a hasty departure. “No it’s fine. I’m still waiting for the phone call to say she’s done, otherwise I’ll just end up waiting at the hospital.”  

“Suit yourself.” She stands up to look down the halls of the mall. “Oh, I think we might have someone, he’s heading this way. He’s cute too, you should give him your number and put that mother of yours at ease.”

“Aunt Emma, I don’t need your dating-” You look in the direction she was speaking of losing the rest of your words when you find a tall beaming man coming closer to your station.

“If you need me I’ll just be in the back fetching more ribbon.” 

“But we have plenty.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” She waves herself off when he makes it to your table.

“Hi,” He greets you with the warmest smile and an even tone. “I was wondering if I could get these wrapped together?” He holds up a bag of gifts which he hands over to you.

“Of course. Any preference on paper?��

“Whatever you think is best, it’s for my mom. Just a bottle of her favourite perfume and something a little more special.”

You open the bag to find a small box containing the fragrance, and the other what looks to be a kids picture book. But what initially seems to be an odd choice for his mother, slams your chest with nostalgia when you see the cover and read the title.

“Koya’s Christmas.” You laugh with delight, you can’t stop yourself from smiling when you examine the artistry. The memories it brings back is enough to make your eyes well with tears.

“You know it?” The man asks, looking pleasantly stunned. 

“Know it? I had it memorized as a child. I loved it so much I couldn't bear it when it was packed away at the end of Christmas each year.”

“Me neither, I flat out refused to let it go, I read it year round to the point where our old copy is currently falling apart on the shelf. Even made snowflakes to put in my windows like he did.”

“That’s right, that scene was one of my favourites. May I?” You gesture asking him for permission to look through it. He nods just as excited as you by the concept of something so sentimental. As you flip through the book you recall the beautiful storyline of a koala living in Australia, one who is so upset that they must celebrate Christmas in the summer, never getting to have a while Christmas described in the songs and shown in the movies. But once Koya talks to the leaves in the trees, and the other small animals of the forest, the realization hits that none of them would be able to stay there if it was cold enough for snow. 

You are so close to tears when you reach the page where the little koala realizes it’s more important to have friends for the holiday than the frozen flurries. Proceeding to stay up all night cutting out perfect snowflakes to hang in the windows for all to enjoy at the family's Christmas Eve party. 

“Where did you find a copy? I’ve looked for so long, I lost my own in the move here.”

“I actually found it by chance, amongst a bunch of rare second-hand books at an auction.” The man itches at the back of his head. “Sorry, I can’t be of more help in locating another.” 

“No it’s fine. I’m just glad I got to see it again. I’ll have to tell my own mom that I was lucky enough to see a copy, she loved it as much as I did.” 

You quickly wrap the two gifts in the one sheet as requested. Handing it back to him before you can be tempted enough to make an excessive offer of your own on his mothers gift. 

“Thanks again.” He hands you two twenties for the donation. “My mom usually helps me with the wrapping but I didn’t want her to see this, you’ve made her Christmas.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

When he walks off you notice that he makes several glances back to you, holding a smile each time. 

“So did you get his number?” Aunt Emma pokes her head back out from the stock area. “Maybe his social media, his dick-dock or whatever it is you kids do these days?” 

“No, I did not get his tiktok.” You answer, unable to contain your laughter. “I was distracted by-” You’re ready to defend yourself when your phone starts vibrating on the table, the screen lit up with the number of your mother’s doctor’s office. You answer it, excited to share your account of the book. “Hey mom, you all finished? You’ll never believe what I just wrapped-”

“Sorry dear this is Laurie, I’m just calling on behalf of Dr. Wang’s office. We were hoping you could come by as soon as you can, the doctor would like to meet with both you and your mother before she leaves for the day.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be right down.” You hang up the phone taking a deep swallow of fear, the moment of happiness and nostalgia vanishing with the prospect of the news to come. It’s never been a good sign when they’ve wanted to meet with you both in person. 

Aunt Emma catches on in an instant, pushing your coat on your shoulders and your purse in your hand. “Go, I’ve got this. You give your mother a big hug for me, and I’ll stop by soon to see you.”

...

While you try to relive, to pull back and hold on to, that moment from a year ago, Namjoon nods confirming your suspicions.

You mentally kick yourself for not recognizing him, for not remembering a single thing about him except your connection with the book. But after everything you had gone through, in that night alone, the devastating news regarding your mothers health had blacked out everything else. You took her home that night, trying not to cry, trying to be strong for her. Helping her into bed for some much needed rest, leaving your previous plans boxed up in the corner... where they remain to this very day. And the year only got worse leaving your mind engaged elsewhere, far from the man with the kind smile and similar taste in literature. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you sooner.”

“No, it’s fine, it was a while ago, and I’m the one who should be sorry,” He whispers. “The moment I stepped outside that day, I realized you needed it more than my mother needed a second. I went back, but you were already gone. I was selfish though, rather than leaving it with another, I wanted to be the one to give it to you myself, I wanted to see you, to talk to you again, and so I kept it. I even put it in the exhibit on the chance that you might find it. When I met Emma at the museum and found out that you’d be doing the fundraiser again it seems like fate, but then I heard about what had happened since I saw you last. I realized how foolish I had been, how I had stolen your chance to share it with her before she passed.”

You reach up to your face attempting to wipe away the tears before Namjoon can see anymore, but he catches your hands before you can hide your grief.

“When you saw the book that day, you have no idea the impact it had on me. Watching you react, your emotions so close to the surface. You didn’t care where you were, what you were doing, all you could see was the memory in front of you. I wanted to create that for everyone.”

“Then the museum exhibit-”

“Was a result of my meeting you, my breakthrough idea which got me a chance to curate was thanks to your reaction. I was going to tell you when we were there, why you deserved to be there more than anyone else, but everything fell apart so quickly.” 

“I’m so sorry, I never intended to ruin your night. I just-” You take a deep breath, finally letting out the words you’ve been holding back. “I was scared. Jackson was one of my mother’s doctors, he was always friendly and kind to the point where my mother would joke that he would make the perfect son-in-law. We even went on a date, but when she passed... it was difficult, painful for me to see him again. Finding him there last night, I was so worried you would learn about what had happened, and that you would look at me with the same pity he did, so I ran.” 

“You didn’t ruin it, I deserved what you said for not being more open with you about what I knew. I was scared of losing you. So no more running, no more hiding okay?”

You give him a nod, unable to speak through the tears as you gasp between sobs. He hugs you across the cars divide. “Now will you please come inside? At least for a bit. It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t let you go home like this. I have the snowflakes up and everything but we both know it’s not enough without someone else to see them with.” 

You shake your head, now laughing despite the tears, “You really know how to reel me in.”

“I’m just admitting that I don’t want to be alone on Christmas,” He looks at you with a raised brow. “And I don’t think you want to be either.”

...

Namjoon’s house is the very opposite of your apartment, filled with warmth and light, wooden furniture and plants in every corner. The Christmas decorations bring another layer of himself into the fold. As promised, his window pains are full of snowflakes and the sills... you squint at several small blue lumps perched beside the glass. Moving closer you recognize them as clay koalas made by the skill and hands of a much younger age. Namjoon catches you staring at one position in a dozing state. He takes it off the ledge and hands it to you to give a better look. 

“Careful with that one though,” He points to another figure stationed in the corner. “It’s ears like to fall off.” He rolls the round bit of clay out of position chuckling as it exhibits the trait. 

“Did you make these?”

“When I was a kid. My mom held on to them.” Namjoon muses as he continues to fidget with the figurine. “She dropped off a box of decorations before going off to be with my sister and her family.”

“I’m glad she did.”

“Me too. But even with all the trimmings and decor here this year doesn’t feel quite normal.” He replaces them both in their rightful positions of honour and gestures to the massive couch behind you. “Make yourself comfortable,” he insists, before wandering off to the joint kitchen. “Is there anything I can get you to drink?” 

“I’ll have whatever you're having.” You take a seat on the monstrous cushions, which ease you in before swallowing you in comfort. Making it easy to see how this beast of a sofa has eaten several of his several earbuds. 

“Beer okay?”

“Perfect.”

He comes round with the drinks and takes a seat beside you. Turning on the television he lets it play with low volume in the background so you might continue your conversation if you wished, but at the same time eases the pressure from you if you’d rather not. 

You smile down at your beverage as the overly dramatic film plays out. Your mind still lingering on the damage that you might have caused with your hasty departure the night before.

“Have you talked to Jackson since, is he still going to loan the sketches?”

“He wants to, he sent me an email today saying so...” Namjoon pauses taking a sip of his drink, swirling the contents around in the can. “He asked if you were okay too. I haven’t responded yet, I wanted to talk to you first and get the full story, rather than speak on your behalf. But it’s clear he has feelings for you, if you told him how you felt, I’m sure you could still work things out if you wanted to.”

“No, I don’t think it’s feelings but his concern. He’s just too good of a person not to worry, and I’m sure his own guilt has a place in there too. Jackson and I never would have worked out, we went on that date, we didn’t have much in common, there was nothing there that I wanted to pursue, not like my time with you.”

Namjoon’s eyes perk open as he smiles. His arm reaches around, pulling you in to lean on his side and shoulder. As the strained plot plays out before you. 

“Why do you insist on watching these.” You ask as your eyes become heavy after a few minutes. Leaning into Namjoon more he lays back putting his feet up and sliding you down with him to do the same. Your head now resting on his chest the deepness of his voice carrying down to your ear. 

“They’re like the snowflakes-”

“A paper thin plot full of holes?”

“Funny and true, but not what I meant. I know they are by no means real, but they have this way of adding to the feeling of the season. I didn’t realize how much of a tradition it has become for me and my family until this year, when watching them alone just felt wrong. The movies were an excuse to sit down with them, to talk and laugh. The other night when I called, it wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to spend the time with you.”

“But why me? You could have anyone, even Valerie seems to-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you helped me achieve something I’ve long dreamed of? You may think this cheesy but at the end of all these films, when everything comes together wrapped in a perfect bow, that’s how I’ve felt in every moment with you.”

“You’re right, very cheesy, but not unwanted.” You look up at him from his chest finding only sincerity in his face. “Now if we’re to continue in this similar Hallmark course of action, I do believe this would be the part where you kiss me again.”

“But I’m just the clumsy lead,” Namjoon jokes. “I’m pretty sure that’s your-” You lean in doing just that, cutting him off and pushing him against the couch as you kiss him. His chest quaking with silent laughter soon turns to rumbling groans as you fulfil the expectation of your role. “Though this would also be the part where I tell you we should wait before giving into temptation.”

Your nose scrunches up in displeasure over the notion of such abstinence. “Then let's omit that line, and go off script for the rest of the night.”

Namjoon takes his turn, flipping you over to push you down onto the plush cushions, where you sink under his weight. “Gladly,” he growls, his mouth trailing down your neck pulling on the collar of your sweater to seek further in. 

Desiring the same you discard your own knit garment, before moving on to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, pushing it back until he is forced to tear his hands from the sleeves himself and whip it down to the ground. 

Sliding between your thighs he wraps your legs around his back and picks you up off the couch. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he continues to kiss you while you squeal from being lifted into the air. 

“Bedroom?” You ask, excited by the possible prospect.

He nods, looking up at you with a smirk. “If that’s okay? I’d rather not risk losing you to the couch too.”

You giggle at the notion, while Namjoon heaves you up again to get a better grasp, his mouth tucking into your chest. He fumbles for the door now behind you looking as though he might break it open if the knob won’t turn to his grappling grip. You reach back to assist and push it open. The cool air of the room hits you, causing you to cling to Namjoon’s warmth. 

With two more steps you’re lowered onto the bed, where he grips the waist of your pants, unbuttoning and tearing them down your legs. Laying on the edge of the mattress, you watch as Namjoon kneels down between your legs. His hands glide up your bare legs and pause at the tops of your thighs massaging them as he asks to go further. “May I?”

You take his fingers and press them down on the dampening fabric. Namjoon groans and dips the tip of his index below the material peeking inside to find the warmth of your cunt. It’s a pity it’s so dark in the room, you would have liked to see his smile. 

But it seems you're not alone in this desire, as Namjoon gets up and reaches over flicking on the lamp beside his bed. “No more hiding, I want to see you, all of you.” 

“I want that too. I want you.” 

He smiles kissing you with both hands before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. You return the favour by taking off his pants and boxer briefs releasing his erection. Running your fingers down the soft skin of his shaft, curling them around the base. Tilting his cock towards your mouth you take the tip, teasing your tongue on the rim of the head. Namjoon groans in delight, thrusting his hips up, you take it again as far as you can manage, enjoying his reactions to your tongue trails downward, tracing the swelling veins of his dick. With another drag of his cock you release him with the pop of your lips and he reaches down to grip your arms, breathing heavily with closed eyes.

“I thought you said you wanted to see me?” You chuckle at his undoing.

“I do, but I also want to last.” 

“Condoms?” You ask, continuing to stroke his cock while you adjust to straddle his thighs.

“In there.” He mutters, pointing to his bedside table breathless and helpless to your touch. Only looking up when you have to free him to reach for the box and unwrap its contents. His own hands help you to roll it down his shaft. 

You guide yourself down on his cock while Namjoon arches against his pillow and mattress. His fingers tracing up your stomach and ribs. You reach back to unclasp your bra just as he reaches your chest, and lean down into his touch. 

With his firm grip you rock your hips clenching on his dick and grinding your clit on his pelvis. The louder he gets the faster you move, trembling as you chase your own high and pivoting down further. When Namjoon’s hands grip your hips pressing you into him the pressure becomes far too great pushing you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure through you until you collapse on his chest. He holds you in place as he thrusts from beneath, gasping as your climax continues, coaxing you to clench down on him, straining his thrusts until he comes. 

Dotting the side of your face and neck with his lips at a soft and slow pace, he succeeds in forging another smile in your still gasping lips. He tilts you off and beside him in your blissful haze so he may dispose of the filled barrier. When returning to your grasp you cling to him and he you, dragging the covers up and over the both of you.  

“I could get used to this.” You whisper, curling into his warmth. No longer afraid of the emotions that the holiday will bring. Glowing over the prospect of not facing Christmas morning alone, but wrapped together with Namjoon in the sheets of his bed. “Maybe even consider it a new tradition?” You joke with him looking up to witness his smile.

“If that’s a tradition...” Namjoon whispers, coming in for another kiss. “I plan on celebrating Christmas everyday for the foreseeable future.”

[impalementation]

spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 3

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

* 

“Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

Prior to becoming a romantic interest, Spike is everything I discussed in the last section. He is an id and a mirror for Buffy, he’s prone to both romantic exaggeration and cutting realism, and his liminality suggests ambiguity. But outside of “Lovers Walk”, the writing doesn’t actually delve too deeply into Spike’s nature as a romantic. If you stopped the canon at “Restless”, you’d probably think that Spike’s love for Drusilla was intriguing, but that the show hadn’t really gone anywhere with the implications of it, and for all you knew, that might not be an important part of his character anymore. So one of the most interesting things about season five to me, is that in this season in which the writers first consciously, deliberately decide to explore the sexual and romantic tension between Spike and Buffy, they also emphasize Spike’s romanticism more than ever. The choice to define Spike by his romanticism is a choice that follows naturally from everything established about his character, but it was also not an inevitable choice. Therefore, it’s a choice worth looking at in some detail.

Consider everything that “Fool For Love” establishes about Spike, especially the things that contradict what was supposedly canon at the time. It makes Drusilla his sire instead of Angel, meaning that he is sired by a romantic connection, and as a direct result of heartbreak. It makes him a poet living in the middle of the Victorian era, an age at odds with his previous ages of “barely 200” and “126”. Meaning that the writing specifically decides to ignore its canon in order to associate him with an era in which passions would have been repressed (rather than the Romantic era of the early 1800’s or the modern energy of the early 1900’s). Moreover, the episode reveals his entire aesthetic and personality to essentially be a construct. But most tellingly of all, it reveals him to be an idealist. Spike is not just a performance artist; he yearns for the “effulgent”, for something “glowing and glistening” that the “vulgarians” of the world don’t understand. In other words, he yearns for something bigger and more beautiful than life: something romantic. Later, he chases after “death, glory, and sod all else.” Spike may be a “fool for love”, who has a romantic view of romantic love specifically, but the episode is very clear about the fact that he is also a romantic more generally. When Drusilla turns him, she doesn’t tempt him by telling him she’ll love him forever. She tempts him by offering him “something…effulgent”. (Which, in typical Spike form, the episode immediately undercuts by having him say “ow” instead of swooning romantically). The fact that “Fool For Love”, Spike’s major backstory episode, is so determined to paint him as a romantic--and in particular, a disappointed, frustrated romantic--that it is willing to contradict canon to do so, tells you that this choice was important for framing Spike and his new, ongoing thematic role.

I’ve talked in the past about how season five is all about the tension between the mythical and the mortal--between big, grand, sweeping narratives, and the reality of being human. Buffy is the Slayer, but she’s also just a girl who loses her mother. Dawn is the key, but she’s also just a confused and hormonal fourteen-year-old. Willow is a powerful witch, but she also just wants her girlfriend to be okay. Glory is a god, but she’s also a human man named Ben, and finds herself increasingly weakened by his emotions. And Spike embodies this tension perfectly. He’s a soulless vampire with a lifetime of bloodshed behind him, but he’s also this silly, human man who wants to love and be loved. He wants big, grand things, but every time they are frustrated by a Victorian society, a rejection, a chip, a pratfall, or dying with an “ow”. Furthermore, his season five storyline is all about the tension between loving in an exalted, yet often selfish way, versus loving in a “real” or selfless way. 

There was a fascinating piece a ways back that discussed how Spike’s attempts to woo Buffy in season five almost perfectly match the romantic narratives of Courtly Love. In the words of the author:

The term "Courtly Love" is used to describe a certain kind of relationship common in romantic medieval literature. The Knight/Lover finds himself desperately and piteously enamored of a divinely beautiful but unobtainable woman. After a period of distressed introspection, he offers himself as her faithful servant and goes forth to perform brave deeds in her honor. His desire to impress her and to be found worthy of her gradually transforms and ennobles him; his sufferings -- inner turmoil, doubts as to the lady's care of him, as well as physical travails -- ultimately lends him wisdom, patience, and virtue and his acts themselves worldly renown.

You can see for yourself how well that description fits Spike’s arc. He fixates on the torturous, abject nature of his love, and has it in his head that he can perform deeds and demonstrate virtue, and this will prove to Buffy that he is worthy of her. But despite Spike’s gradual ennobling over the course of the season, I think it would be a mistake to see the season as using the Courtly Love narrative uncritically, or even just ironically. The same way it would be a mistake to see season two as using the Gothic uncritically. Spike is as much Don Quixote as he is Lancelot. He is a character that deliberately tries to act out romantic tropes, giving the writing an opportunity to satirize those tropes, including the tropes of chivalric romance. In particular, the writing criticizes Spike’s (very chivalric) fixation on love as a personal agony, something that is more about pain--and specifically, his pain--than building a real relationship. Over and over in season five, he is forced to abandon these sorts of flattering romantic mindsets in favor of a more complicated reality. 

So at first, Spike’s “deeds” tend to be shallow and vaguely transactional. He tries to help Buffy in “Checkpoint” even though she doesn’t want it (and insults her when she doesn’t appreciate it), he asks “what the hell does it take?” when Buffy is unimpressed by him not feeding on “bleeding disaster victims” in “Triangle”, he rants bitterly at a mannequin when Buffy fails to be grateful to him for taking her to Riley in “Into the Woods”, and he is angry and confused when Buffy is unmoved by his offer to stake Drusilla in “Crush”. While these attempts to symbolically reject his evilness are startling for a soulless vampire, and although Spike certainly feels like he is fundamentally altering himself for Buffy’s sake, none of it is based on understanding or supporting Buffy in a way that she would actually find substantial. Moreover, he lashes out when his gestures fail to win her attention or affection. He has an idea in his head of how their romantic scenes should play out, and reacts petulantly when reality fails to live up to it. 

But these incidents of self-interested narrativizing are also continuously contrasted with scenes in which Spike reacts with real generosity, or is surprised when he realizes he’s touched something emotionally genuine. When Buffy seeks him out in “Checkpoint”, his mannerisms instantly change when he realizes she actually needs real help (“You’re the only one strong enough to protect them”), rather than the performed help he offered at the beginning of the episode. At the end of “Fool For Love” he’s struck dumb by Buffy’s grief, and his antagonistic posturing all evening melts away. He abandons his romantic vision of their erotic, life-and-death rivalry in favor of real, awkward emotional intimacy. In “Forever” he tries to anonymously leave flowers for Joyce, and reacts angrily when he’s denied—but this time not because he wanted something from Buffy. Simply because he wanted to do something meaningful. 

This contradictory behavior comes to a head in “Intervention”, the episode in which Spike finally begins to understand the difference between real and transactional generosity. Up until that point, Spike has been reacting both selfishly and unselfishly, but he hasn’t been able to truly distinguish between them, which is why he keeps repeating the same mistakes. Although he touches something real at the end of “Fool For Love”, for instance, he goes on to rifle through Buffy’s intimates in the very next episode. And so “Intervention” has Spike go to extremes of fakeness and reality. He gives up on having the real Buffy, and seeks out an artificial substitute that lets him live out his cheesiest romance novel scripts. It’s important that the Buffybot isn’t just a sexbot, even if he does have sex with her. She’s a bot he plays out romantic scenarios with the way he played them with Harmony in “Crush”, allowing him to almost literally live within a fiction. But then he “gives up” on having Buffy in a way that’s actually real, by offering up his life. He lets himself be tortured, and potentially killed, for no other reason than that to do otherwise would cause Buffy pain. The focus is on her pain, not his. For the first time, he acts like the Knight he’s been trying to be all along. He performs a grand, heroic deed that causes the object of his affection to see him in a different light, and even grant him a kiss. Yet ironically, as part of learning the difference between real and fake, he ceases to press for Buffy’s reciprocation. Through the end of season five, Spike continues to act the selfless Knight, assisting Buffy in her heroism without asking for anything in return. Which culminates in his declaration that he knows Buffy “will never love him”, even after he’s promised her the deed of protecting Dawn, and even though she allows a kind of intimacy by letting him back in her house. He proves that he sees those gestures for what they are, rather than in a transactional light. The irony of the way Spike fulfills the narrative of chivalric romance, is that his ennobling involves letting aspects of that narrative go. 

In a Courtly Love narrative, the object of the Knight’s affection is fundamentally pedestalized. The Knight himself might be flawed, but the woman he pines after is not. She is “divinely beautiful” and “unobtainable”, something above him and almost more than human. This is why it’s so comic that in Don Quixote, which was a direct satire of chivalric romance, Alonso Quixano’s “lady love” is a vulgar peasant farmgirl who has no idea who he is. (Think of the way Spike asks if Buffy is tough in “School Hard” or threatens to “take her apart” despite “how brilliant she is” in “The Initiative”, followed by scenes where Buffy is acting like the teenage girl she is. Or how Giles in “Checkpoint” says that Buffy has “acquired a remarkable focus” before cutting to Buffy yawning.). Although it’s true that Buffy is beautiful, and supernatural, and profoundly moral, she is also very human, and the writing is very concerned with that humanity. Season five in particular, as I’ve mentioned, is preoccupied with the duality of Buffy’s mythic and mortal nature. Thus it becomes significant that Buffy is assigned such a heightened role in Spike’s chivalric narrative. Just Spike is at once Lancelot and Don Quixote, Buffy is at once Achilles, Dulcinea, and a coming-of-age protagonist. 

And part of the “lesson” of Spike’s arc is for him to see both sides of the roles they embody. One of my favorite things about the scene in Buffy’s house in “The Gift” is how adroitly it conveys the dualities of both Buffy and Spike with simple, but poetic imagery and language. Buffy stands above Spike on her steps, conveying her elevated role, and Spike honors the way her heroic status has inspired him by physically looking up to her as he explains that he expects nothing from her. But by expecting nothing from her, and promising to protect her sister, he also honors the fact that she is a real person with no obligation to him, and a younger sister she cares about more than anything. He also honors his own duality by at once making Knightly promises, and acknowledging that he sees through his former delusions: “I know that I’m a monster, but you treat me like a man.” In “Fool For Love” he tried to acknowledge the same duality of realism and romance, by declaring to Cecily that “I know I’m a bad poet, but I’m a good man.” But at the time, he was an innocent, whose desire to be seen, and whose romantic avoidance of “dark, ugly things”, left him unprepared to understand how Cecily really saw him (similar to Spike’s insistence in “Crush” that what he and Buffy have “isn’t pretty, but it’s real” just before Buffy locks him out). Spike is a character defined simultaneously by continuous disillusionment and dogged aspiration, which is why he makes perfect sense as a character to embody a season torn between the pain of being human, and the wonder of the gift of love.

Fittingly, the season ends with Spike’s most devastating loss of innocence of all. He fails to be the hero for Buffy or Dawn (note that Knightly language he uses on the tower: “I made a promise to a lady”), and he loses the woman he loves. He may have become more virtuous, but unlike in a chivalric romance, that virtue wins him neither Buffy, nor something flattering like “world reknown.” The climax of the “The Gift” is full of romance—a god, a troll hammer, a damsel on a tower, a heroic self-sacrifice, a vampire transformed into a Knight—but the end result is that Buffy is dead, in part because he wasn’t good enough, and all that he and the Scoobies can do is grieve. Stories got Spike nothing, even when reality finally lived up to them. It is a swan song to the myths of childhood, and on the other side of Glory’s portal, Spike and the other characters will have to confront a world where those myths have been left behind.

part 4: “But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

[chidoroki]

What are your top 5 Isabella chapters? (You're so cool!!!)

Oh anon, you're amazing and I hope you know by asking me anything about this woman means that I'm gonna do more than simply list out the chapters for you.

Okay, sooo these chapters may seem like obvious choices but they're no doubt the first few that came to my mind (which may or may not be because I have their numbers memorized). Unfortunately I don't think I have the heart to rank them because aahh, I love each one a significant amount and for various reasons?? and whichever one I deem as the best could easily change the more I think about it.. so I'm just gonna list them in chronological order instead. Hope that's okay!

1 - Chapter 24: Inspection, Part 1 Part of me wants to cheat and list chapter 24 & 25 together since both cover November 2nd and the major events in said chapters are what make S1EP8 one of the best episodes to showcase how terrifyingly great Isabella is, but if I had to choose just one, then I'll go with ch24. Yes seeing her break Emma's leg and announce Norman's shipment are both jaw dropping moments capable of making anyone speechless, but ch25 also has quite a few pages just solely dedicated to the internal dialogues of the duo, so that doesn't help us here hm?. While Isabella dropping her "loving mother" facade and speaking to the food Emma & Norman directly as an actual caretaker is chilling, her confrontation with Ray in ch24 leaves more of an impact on me, given their mother-son relationship and totally not because they're my two favorites, that's crazy. Not only does she nonchalantly reveal that she had Krone killed at the same time Ray was wondering the sister's whereabouts, but she also labels Ray as a traitor, effectively cutting him off as her personal spy and any safety she once guaranteed him. She then makes the resolve to control the children with her own hands instead from now on, which sends Ray into an absolute panic, because if he is no longer safe, then no one is. Along with the anime giving us that added scene of her tossing Ray aside like a rag doll and every frame/panel that shows the sheer confidence she has on her face, having Isabella knock off her biggest ally is such a powerful move to me. This chapter is basically like the queen setting up the board for the perfect checkmate. And it works.

2 - Chapter 37: Escape Courtesy of all Krone's information in ch20-21, Grandma Sarah's single panel flashback in ch23 and even Isabella's own ID number way back in ch3, it was pretty common knowledge at this point that Isabella also experienced the same false childhood as any other kid at Grace Field, but finally seeing her morals and backstory from her own perspective will literally take any hatred you had towards her and toss it out the window (probably) because you'll feel emotions you didn't think you would've originally had towards this fantastic antagonist. The brief interaction we get to witness between her and Leslie is beyond wholesome, so of course the story chooses to break your heart the next moment by skipping right to his shipment and a heartbroken Isabella (which is portrayed way better in anime as manga literally has a panel of her smiling as she waves goodbye, like..huh?). It's also confirmed that she attempted to escape GF and just how important Leslie's song is to not only her, but to Ray as well as he uses this tune in order to verify that Isabella is indeed his real mother. On top of all that, we come to learn that she excels with her position as Mom for the sake of the children so she can indirectly extend their lives as long as possible and give them all the love she can before they’re unfortunately shipped off. Yes her main goal is to stay alive in this hellish world herself, I know, but this chapter is just a fantastic example showing how Isabella isn't as selfish as she once seemed and does care about her children a great deal (and more than herself later on in the story), even going as far as retrieving the ropes the fifteen escapees used to cross the cliff so the pursuing demons wouldn't locate them as quickly. She accepts her defeat and admits her mistakes, as well as express her well wishes to those that escaped and continues to care for the kids that were left behind while she can. There's just.. a lot to this chapter and it does so much for her character y'all, you know this. Needless to say but the anime handles this chapter wonderfully, especially with the soundtracks and the fantastic choice of having her let her hair down aahh she's beautiful.

3 - Chapter 170: Together As much as I love the very end of ch169 and the pure shock it gave me, I gotta choose the following chapter because it made it just as excited to learn what led Isabella to completely turn against Peter. We're reminded of how frustrated Isabella is with the farm system and its tactics that causes them to live in fear, flaunting freedom as bait as they all constantly fight each other just to survive longer than anyone and prove to be useful, less they get killed for acting out or by simply giving up. She successfully manages to rally every single sister & mother at the GF headquarters together (with barely any sort of resistance or issue) in order to rebel against the Ratri clan, which happens mere moments before Emma & company actually raid the facility by the way, just to avoid any suspicions from Peter about the plan itself. Amidst all the suspense and anger, we hear of Isabella's thoughts about how relieved she is to see her children again and how touched she is at the fact they still refer to her as their mom, even if she believes she doesn't deserve the sentiment. In true "Iron Lady" fashion, she keeps these emotions to herself and expresses that it's just convenient she and the kids share a similar goal. Oh, she also refers to Peter as a boy, which I will always find hilarious. To top it all off, it gives me the best mother-daughter moment ever. This is the chapter where she completely won me over and has been a favorite of mine ever since.

4 - Chapter 177: Mother And this is the chapter that completely breaks me. I'm not exaggerating when I say that whenever I revisit this moment I either start to tear up or get real emotional, so I shall let you know my emotional state after I sit and write this out. So, the wonderful woman I fell in love with just seven chapter ago? Mhhmm, DEAD! By some fucking random ass demon who is no doubt my most hated character in this series. ANYWAYS. This unforgivable event was first teased in the last couple pages in ch176, which officially released on MOTHER'S DAY, so not only is that such horrible timing but THEN we had to painfully wait a full week to see if the Iron Lady would survive this or if the children were gonna lose yet another parental figure. Needless to say, the worst case scenario happened and my heart was shattered into pieces. My emotions aside, the chapter itself is (surprisingly?) one of my favorites out of the entire series and is heartwarming is the most upsetting way possible. Isabella putting herself in harms way to save Emma & the other girl (with no hesitation might I add) speaks volumes about how much she loves her kids and how far she'll go to ensure they can live a bright future, even if it means by sacrificing her own life, which was once the only she cared about. The fact Isabella still possessed enough strength after being stabbed to hold back this bastard demon twice her size is worth mentioning as well. Once the demon is taken care of, the first thing she's concerned with is Emma & everyone else's safety, showing us even further that they now take priority over herself (even since ch37, I’ll argue). Despite literally giving her life to save Emma (along with all her other subtle moments I've no doubt mentioned here & in other posts), Isabella admits that she still hasn't done enough to atone for all the trauma she caused them, even though the kids had already forgiven her a couple chapters ago, she still feels the need to do so much more for them. The hug between her and the majority of the GF kids is sad as hell, especially with Emma's internal & external dialogue, but it is always the final interaction between mother and son that breaks my heart. Isabella apologized to all the kids in ch174, but her tearful apology to Ray here holds so much weight; for not treating him right or loving him as a true mother should to her own son, for all the lies and pain that made his life a living hell which left him suicidal. Her final wish for Ray to take care of everyone hurts in all the right ways because despite their differences, they both care for their family so much where they would literally die and live for them. It's a lot of emotion coming from a woman who once had an unbreakable facade, and seeing her use up her final bit of strength to share all that with Ray gets me close to tears. This death had upset me so much that I stopped myself from listening to "Isabella's Lullaby" for a good year because I knew that hearing that melody would only remind me of this heartbreaking chapter. (and yes I'm making myself emotional right now).

5 - Chapter 181.7: A Mother’s Determination Take everything that made the previous four mentioned chapters so great (her strategic mind/her dedication/her powerful influence/her love for the children) and combined all of that into one and you shall get Isabella's special one-shot. It shows us the very beginning (Jan-Feb 2046) of Isabella's time as Grandma of the Grace Field plantation and how she commits to her plan of helping the escapees when they return. In order to succeed, she first reduces the number of shipments (which effectively spares many children's lives), suspects she might be targeted by the other sisters & mothers and even successfully determines which women might actually try to backstab her, all in the span of one month. She also anticipated the perfect moment when they were gonna strike, flawlessly counters their sad attempt of sabotaging her, then easily taunts them to the point where the four sisters are visibly shaking in fear of their lives. Without any delay, she proposes the idea to destroy GF in such a calm and confident manner and proceeds to tug at their emotions with the reveal that each one of their own kids are still alive, how frustratingly unfair the farm system and how strongly she believes she can tear it all down. This is the Iron Lady at her best, and nothing motivates her more than her children. Of course rebelling to end this endless cycle of hatred and fear is a huge factor in why Isabella is putting in so much effort to change destiny, but fighting in order to secure a bright future where her children are free to live normal lives without any sort of fear is something she has always strived for, and now that she has the power to openly assist them create that future, you can bet she's gonna try her damn hardest to give them the happiness they so rightfully deserve. We started the story off with the children learning from her, so it’s pretty amazing (despite this chapter being released after the main story finished) that we end with Isabella using what she learned from her children in order to take control and unite against the real enemy. The only downside to this fantastic chapter is the last panel because I don't wanna be reminded that this absolute queen is actually dead, damn it!

Alrighty, I think that about does it.. and I have no doubt I repeated myself a bunch too hahaa. I still have no idea which chapter I enjoy most now, even among those I mentioned briefly, but it's clear as day that Isabella is amazing. Thank you again for the question anon! Always a pleasure chatting about TPN and I hope you have a great rest of your day/night!

[owlbloop]

Tw: Mention of sexual assault

I do believe all life is sacred, but a fetus lacks awareness or thought and a total ban of abortion ignores medical nessesicty anyways.

Even if you consider a fetus alive there's no sane point to make towards preventing things like aborting a stillborn or bringing a child into the world that will survive a few days and then die painfully. You aren't pro life if you're signing death warrants for birth givers.

I do believe all peoples lives are important. So I don't believe the government can stop them from making choices about their own body, that the government can force a person with a uterus to surrender their bodily anatomy, particularly with the consequences.

One in five babies miscarries, we have an incredibly high childbirth mortality rate, we don't provide services to take care of these children, we don't run the foster care system well enough for the overloaded thing to handle even more youth, we aren't paying for these peoples medical care and them giving birth in the first place, we aren't giving them good sex ed, abuse and rape are massive issues.. I believe that people with uteruses have important lives that they deserve to live unburdened or crippled by something they never asked for. I don't believe a fetus' possible eventual life outways destroying the lives of innocent people.

Guess what, ace and sex repulsed, still could get pregnant one day, even as a teen. I'm afab and could be sexually assaulted. Maybe I wouldn't have access to resources in time. Maybe they'd fail. Maybe I wouldn't be able to bear bringing it up and might end up hiding it happened, only to discover even worse luck later. That theoretical pregnancy could wreck my body, potentially kill me, the psychological consequences could be devastating, there'd be a kid I'd probably want nothing to do with, my sensory issues make it a struggle to even be around very small children, the stigma id have attached to me could be life altering. Don't have sex? I'd never voluntarily have sex, and even if for some reason I did later in life my partner would be extremely unlikely to be male if I consented to it. So you can't begin to say something like that would be my fault, that I should risk death, permanent damage, and the complete alteration of my life, potentially as a minor, for something I never intentionally risked or asked for.

Yeah, I'm christian. Last I checked the Bible says to love everyone, to be a good Samaritan, to treat others like decent human beings. Didn't Jesus tell a guy he was better off amputating his hand than groping a lady? I'm obviously not him, but I severely doubt this person would blame sexual assault on the victim.

I'm not going to hurt anyone, punish anyone, or threaten anyone because they were scared or unprepared for a child. We should be trying to improve the system instead of hurting those already harmed by it. Nobody is getting an abortion for funzies, they're getting it because they aren't ready for a kid or that kid will end up being the literal death of them. People are more than their ability to give birth.

I don't have it in me to hate anyone, to wish permanent harm or death on anyone, and I mean anyone. The core of Christianity should be love and acceptance, we say Jesus died on the cross to help us, protect us, so we could live even with our flaws. Even if you think God would be against homosexuality, aren't we taught he loves all of his creations, no matter what we do? That he forgives our transgressions? Do you think he'd send LGBTQ people to heck? That he'd approve of mistreating people for something beyond their control? That he'd hate someone for making such a difficult choice about their future and the life that could form inside them?

I don't believe in a God that hates anyone, and I strive to keep sympathy for and recognize the decency and beauty in even the cruelest most difficult people. Of course I don't like everyone. Some people are awful horrible people. But inside they have thought, a life, and a mind. They are aware, they can suffer, and they deserve to live and be treated humanely, even if they wouldn't do the same. Please stop hurting people for your beliefs. I can't stop you from thinking what you do, but don't force it or take it out on others.

Religion shouldn't be used to justify pain. It's something fascinating and valuable to many people, it's something that effects so many lives and perspectives, but it should not be a thing of harm. Religion is not a weapon. It's a lense and aspect of life not everyone takes part in, and no one is wrong for their participation or lack thereof. When we use our beliefs to hurt people we are taking a part of so many people's lives and smashing it to shards, just to justify something that it rarely even justifies in the first place.

I miss being able to take pride in church, and everyday it gets harder to find the good parts. But it's still something important to how I grew up, and it's still important to me now, so please stop twisting it into something so destructive

[nakamoto-aesthetics]

Noona | k.jw

synopsis: a typical story about a girl who has a crush on jungwoo but this time... you are his noona

pairing: crush!jungwoo x female!reader

genre: very sexual, with some fluff

warning: hard dom!jungwoo, sir!kink, some teasing, a speck of degradation

word count: 3.9k

a/n: yes the background of the banner says aquarius because the reader in this story is an aquarius😊 (btw: im a scorpio🙃♏️)

“jungwoo” you shout throughout the house. he was supposed to help you set up your iPhone because switching from android to iPhone was a little difficult for you.

the only reason why you switched was that you wanted to FaceTime the other members and do group calls. it was a good way to keep an eye on them in case they were doing things they had no business doing. yeah, you were the mom taking care of all her children. you were the second oldest of the bunch. even though taeil was older, you still treated him like your child.

you were born on February 5th, 1995; you teased johnny all the time about being older since you guys were only 4 days apart. he would play along with you by rolling his eyes or lightly shoving you as a joke. you and he always had a ball when you were with each other, both of you making the group laugh and smile. overall, the members loved you wholeheartedly, it was like you were one of them. you were all family.

footsteps were heard on the hardwood floor and soon the blond head of hair popped up. he was wearing a white hoodie with black baggy pants, the hood was up, the blond hair splayed on his forehead. he looked so damn sexy at that moment. you had to keep yourself from biting your lip.

oh yeah, what you forgot to mention was that you liked jungwoo. yeah, you still treated him like he was your kid but on the side, nobody knew you liked him, except for johnny. he saw the way you looked at jungwoo one time and immediately figured it out. he pulled you to the side after that and you confirmed it to be true. to this day johnny subtly teases you whenever you with jungwoo and you hated it.

“did you get it?” he walks up to you and looks at the phone in your hands. “wow… noona with an iPhone?” he says dramatically.

“shut the fuck up woo” you playfully smack his shoulder and he grins.

“it’s true!” he says loudly and laughs.

“whatever” you roll your eyes playfully, smiling. “can you be quiet and help me now?” you say in a lighthearted manner.

“yes, my lady” he bows and holds out his hand. you try not to break out into a smile but it doesn’t work. a wide grin fills your face as you place the phone in his hand. he then walks over to the table and sits down and you do the same.

the next minutes are spent with you hovering over his shoulder, watching what he does, you putting in emails and passwords as he turns away from the screen, and him asking you security questions.

“okay now enter a pin so nobody can get into your phone” he directs your phone toward you and turns the other way so he can’t see.

‘xxxx’ and then you put it in again. “there,” you say. he looks at the phone again.

“okay now you need face id” he says and taps on it.

“face id?”

“yes you can unlock your phone like that and it just makes everything so much easier. here. just follow the instructions” he hands you the phone and you do exactly that until the end.

“there were done. you know how to do the rest right? download apps, add contacts, change the wallpaper?” jungwoo looks at you.

“yes and if I don’t then I‘ll just ask you” you grin widely, teasing him.

“mm” he hums pressing his lips together as if he didn’t want to help you but in reality, he didn’t mind it one bit.

“you love me woo, there’s no need to hide it” you reach up to brush the pieces of hair that fell in front of his eyes.

“I never hid it,” he says almost too low for you to hear. his eyes were serious, there was no hint of playfulness in his face or tone.

“what are you talking about?” you tense up but continue to brush the other side of his hair out of his eyes.

“I mean that... I like you noona, I like you a lot and I've felt this way since I met you,” you take your hands away from his hair and place them in your lap trying to take in the information. you could’ve been with him this whole time and instead of speaking up as you should have; you waited because you didn’t know if he would feel the same way. right now you were internally punching yourself for being a scaredy-cat. jungwoo notices your actions and there’s a hurt look in his eyes for a second.

“it's okay if you don’t feel the same way, I thought I should just tell you since there was an opportunity. I don’t want it to be awkward just act like I never told you-“

you plant your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. he freezes for a second before kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist. fireworks lighting up in both your stomachs; your hearts were pounding rhythmically as your lips were chasing each other’s wanting more of the other's lips.

‘his lips are so soft and pretty’ you thought.

‘her lips are so soft and pretty’ he thought.

neither of you wanted to pull apart but both of you were losing your breath. jungwoo took your bottom lip in between his lips and tugged it as he pulled away. you gasped softly at his action and opened your eyes looking at him.

“wow,” you whisper.

“what?”

“that was so much better than I imagined”

“how so?” he tried to hide his grin.

“because your lips…” you touch your lips with one hand and then touch his with the other hand. your fingers brush over his lips, still mesmerized by the kiss.

“what about them?” he kisses the pads of your fingers that were placed on his lips, making you let out a small breath.

“they’re so soft and plush” he chuckles at your words. you could feel the vibrations of his laugh on your fingertips. you bit lip and stroke his bottom lip.

“and so are yours so come here” he grips your waist and shifts you onto his lap. you let out an ‘oh’ and he places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in for another kiss, you sighed into it and moved your lips at the same pace. it felt so magical and dreamy. you never wanted this feeling to end. your heated bodies pressed together wanting to feel every inch of the other. his hands traveled down to your ass and he squeezed it, making you moan softly. he took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

“jungwoo” you moaned softly but you were muffled by his tongue in your mouth. he continued to feel around your mouth with his tongue, ignoring you.

“well well well,” a voice says making you two pull apart immediately and look at who the voice belonged to. it was johnny. “I see you finally told him y/n” he adds on.

“jungwoo confessed first” you look at him and smile.

“oh wow I’m surprised, I thought you would be the first to say something,” johnny asks and walks to the counter to get something.

“ehh I don’t know. I just can’t believe me and he could’ve been together the first month I met him. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment.” you say and pecks his lips. he smiles and pecks your cheek.

“well now you finally have him, gosh that was so annoying. I knew jungwoo had a crush on you but I couldn’t say anything, it was so frustrating. I’m just glad you guys know now. anyways, I’ll be back later,” johnny puts on his shoes and coat, opening the door. “oh, and jungwoo?”

“yeah?”

“don’t forget to wrap up, if you don’t have any there’s some in my top dresser drawer.” johnny winks at you two before walking out the door.

you laugh loudly and rest your head on jungwoo’s shoulder. he laughs aloud with you and shakes his head. “johnny hyung is something else” he utters.

“that he is” you agree with him. the atmosphere soon grows quiet, only filled with your shared breaths.

“woo?” you say softly, still with your head on his shoulder. you trace circles on the bare skin of his neck.

“mhm,” he rubs your lower back softly.

“what are we?”

“whatever you wanna be” he answers.

“what do you want us to be?”

“I want us to be… together,” he says and it makes you pause for a second. you wanted to be with jungwoo no doubt about that but was it too early? you’ve known jungwoo for 8 months, you practically knew him inside and out at this point he wasn’t that hard to read. most of all though, you loved him wholeheartedly and you loved him too much to take it slow. you were ready.

“me too,” you say against his neck.

“good.” he smiled like an idiot. “you're my baby now and nobody else's” he pulls your face up to his and plants kisses on your neck. you moan softly feeling heat pool to your core. his lips were so plump against your skin you wondered what they would feel like on your-

“you wanna go in the room?” he kisses along your jaw. you persistently nod your head. he grabs your phone off the table and picks you up, walking towards his room.

“do you have condoms?” you ask.

“nope ill have to get some but for now jaehyun has some” he opens the door and shuts it after he walks in.

“who is jaehyun fucking?” you breathily laugh.

“don’t know, don’t care, all im worried about is who I’m fucking” he lays you on his bed and strokes your cheek. your heart skips a beat right then and there. that felt so good to hear, you’d been waiting way too long for this day to come.

he puts your phone on the desk next to his bed and goes to jaehyuns drawer, looking for the condoms. you watched jungwoo attentively, watching the way his eyebrows knitted together and the way he bit his lip as he looked through the drawer. you guided your eyes down his body. you could see the prominent bulge forming under his thin black pants, making you bite your lip. jungwoo was incredibly sexy.

“found them,” he says and soon closes the drawer coming back with a gold square package. he lowers himself so he’s hovering over you. “are you sure you want to do this? we don’t have to if you don’t want to” he caresses your cheek.

“no, I want to do this jungwoo” you hold his cheek in your palm. he smiles softly and kisses your forehead.

“okay noona” he smiles softly and stands up, pulling off his shirt.

“damn...” you breathily whisper and run your hands down his torso, feeling on his abs.

“like what you see?” he chuckles, mocking you but you don’t mind it; much too distracted by his figure.

“like is such an understatement,” you say in a hushed tone.

“what do you mean?” he tilts his head and swiftly looks your figure up and down.

“I love what I see...” you sit up and grip his waist, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“don’t fucking looking at me like that,” he says calmly but there’s aggression under his statement.

“why?” you challenged, continuing to look at him.

“babygirl, you aren’t gonna be able to walk after I’m done with you” he caresses your cheek.

“are you sure your big enough to accomplish that?” you say, making jungwoo cock his eyebrow.

you already could tell jungwoo was big enough to ruin but you wanted to play around and tease him a bit.

“positive” he simply says.

“I don’t think so”

“you’ve never even seen it and a bulge does not count,” he says and you shrug trying to tease him further, he shakes his head at you and scoffs before looking at you again.

“my dick is big enough- you know what why don’t you take a look for yourself” he gestures to his pants. “I mean you're already in the right position” he was right. your face lined up perfectly with the waistband of his pants.

you nod and grip the waistband of his black pants, you gulp and pull them down leaving him in his underwear. his bulge was still prominent, that alone was big so you could only imagine what the full thing looked like. you grip the waistband of them and look up at him; his eyes are staring right back into yours. your breath hitches before you look back down to his waistband. you pull it down slowly and are first met with the base of his dick.

inches on inches.

you couldn’t believe how long and thick he was. it felt like you were pulling the thin fabric down for an eternity.

once he stepped out of the underwear you leaned back so you could see his length completely. your eyebrows raise and your jaw drops.

“am I still not big enough?” he chuckles at your expression. you gulp and shake your head no. you were speechless, you knew he was big but not this big. how could somebody be so long and thick. ‘will it fit?’ you widen your eyes.

“are you done?” he crosses his arms. you look up at him and nod. “good now I want you to strip” he grabs your hands, stands you up and he sits on the bed.

“you want me to give you a show?” you turn around to face him.

“mhm,” he leans back. his hands are behind him, holding him up.

if there’s one thing your good at, it’s giving someone a show. you turn around so your back is facing him. you cross your arms and grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head. you let it fall to the floor and reach behind your back undoing your bra. you hold it in place so it doesn't fall and look at him over your shoulder. he’s biting his lip in anticipation. you smirk and let the bra drop to the floor. you run your hands down your sides and over your curves to tease him, this works because you can see the way his dick twitches once you do that.

you decide to stop teasing him and pull down your pants, leaving you in the white lace panties. you can hear his muffled groans and you bite your lip. you loved the way he reacted to you. the smallest things turned him on, you couldn’t wait to tease him soon. you could already see it; you teasing him every chance you get and then you get punished for your actions. oh, how you couldn’t wait.

you slip your panties off slowly and throw it at him over your shoulder.

“good luck getting these back,” he says and puts them under his pillow.

“hey!” you protest, still not turned around.

“I’ll buy you more now turn around please”

“why? just so you can take them?” you say in an irritated voice. those were some of your favorite pairs.

“I’ll get you another pair of those, and I’ll buy two pairs of every underwear, how’s that?” he tries to compromise.

“okay...” you try to hide your smile but it doesn’t work.

“okay now kindly turn the fuck around so I could see that sexy-ass body,” he says impatiently, making you chuckle. you finally turn around and drop your arms to your sides so he can see everything.

his jaw hangs open and he looks your body up and down multiple times, trying to take it all in. his mind was so fuzzy at this moment in time. he’s been waiting to see your body. he’s dreamt of it so many times, often waking up to a little surprise sticking up from under his pants. your body was so much better in real life, it was amazing in the dream but it was so so much better in real life. words couldn’t describe it nor the way jungwoo was feeling at the moment.

“you like what you see?” you mock him. he nods his head quickly, biting his lip.

you chuckle and walk over to him. both of you staring at the other's naked body. his hand goes to your bare waist, moving down to your hips and then ass but he doesn’t squeeze it he just... holds it.

“woo are you-”

“you're so beautiful noona,” he says like he was put under a spell. you chuckle and grab his hands, holding them so then you could sit on his lap. your throbbing pussy brushes his hard dick for a second, making his and your breath hitch. you lay your head on his shoulder and peck his neck.

“I think you beautiful too jungwoo” you already knew he was smiling before you looked up. the smile filled up his face, making his eyes shine brightly. you smile in return and leave soft kisses on his shoulder.

“alright, alright stop before I end up cuddling you instead. I still have to ruin you and make you not walk” his hands go down to your ass and grip it harshly, you breathily gasp, and before you know it you on your back and he's hovering over you.

“you're my little slut tonight noona,” he says in your ear and kisses under your jaw. you moan his name in return, he immediately stops his actions and tilts your chin down so you can see him.

“uh uh what’s my name baby girl” his eyes are dark and his tone is low. he wasn’t playing around this time.

“daddy?” you ask uncertainly.

“wrong” he pulls one of your legs apart from the other so your spread out. he raises his hand and strikes your inner thigh. the loud sound filling the room.

“what the fuck?” you hiss and reach to rub it but before you can he grips your wrist and pins it above your head.

“every time you answer wrong, I hit that same spot. your safeword is y/n and my safeword is jungwoo because it would be weird if one of us just starts shouting our own name. it would catch the attention of the other” he says and you nod.

“is it.. baby boy?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“definitely not” he slaps the spot again and you clench your jaw out of pain.

“what about sir?” you ask and he raises his hand, making you squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation.

“correct” he rubs the red area. you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. he kisses your lips, increasingly getting rougher. you moan against his lips, the sound of heavy breaths now filling the room before he makes his way down your body.

“sir huh, who would’ve thought? honestly, I thought of you more like a daddy kind of guy” you look down at him, he looks up at you with the darkest, most passionate eyes, his lips were red and slightly swollen from the kisses while his hair was slightly messy. it was a sight to see.

“shut the hell up” his hot breath hit the skin of your lower stomach. you bit your lip and nodded, wanting him to continue desperately.

he makes his way down until he’s hovering over your glistening pussy. he spreads you open with two fingers and you throw your head back.

“sir” you cry out, after all, that waiting and anticipation all you wanted was to be touched, licked, and ruined.

“you little slut, so wet for me” he glides his finger down you, making your body convulse. he barely did anything and you were already a mess. you attempted to move your hips closer to his fingers but he was one step ahead of you; his hand gripped your hip tightly.

“if you want to end up getting touched then you better stay still” he warned you.

needless to say, it was a long night.

the morning after, just like jungwoo said you could barely walk.

when you woke up you could already feel the pain down there when you moved your legs slightly. jungwoo did a number on you last night. you wouldn’t be surprised if you find out he had accidentally ripped you open.

nonetheless, you had to use the bathroom but jungwoo was still asleep. you tried to wait it out but scrolling through instagram and tiktok but it came to a point where you just couldn’t hold it anymore. you slowly got out of bed trying not to wake the boy and you successfully did just that.

when your two feet hit the ground, your legs almost gave out on you. you had to hold onto the bed for support. you caught a glimpse of your body and realized you were naked. you looked around for a shirt and saw jungwoos, you stable yourself and walk over, grabbing it and slipping it over your head. it looked like a dress on you, jungwoo was so tall. you then limped to the door and opened it ever-so-slightly, slipping out in-between the small crack.

you limped your way to the bathroom and closed the door shut. you were so proud of yourself because that was not an easy task. he messed you up.

once you used the toilet and washed your hands, after you struggled to sit down on the toilet for a minute or two, you walked out. you headed to the kitchen, hungry from the loss of energy last night. you grabbed leftovers out of the fridge, heating it up on a plate, and then eating it. once you were finished, you put your dish in the sink and were on your way back to jungwoos room but not before seeing johnny.

“woah what happened to you?” he looks at you before he comes to a realization. he smirks. “you and jungwoo must’ve had a ball last night huh?”

“shut the fuck up johnny” you roll your eyes.

“what’s with the attitude?” he drops his smirk.

“nothing- I’m sorry okay everything just hurts right now. he fucked me up huh?” you breathily chuckle.

“yeah he did... so how was it?”

“it was... really fun to be honest. he knows how to work his hips. god, that boy has a lot of stamina” you bit your lip thinking about what happened last night leading up to this point.

johnny cringes at the thought. “nevermind stop I don’t want to know anything else” he waves his hands. you chuckle and hit his shoulder.

“you’ll be fine but if you’ll excuse me. I do have to return to him.” johnny nodded and walked past you. you limped back to jungwoos room, slipping through the crack. you shut the softly and quietly limp your way to the bed, situating yourself back into the spot you were once in. you let out a breath of relief once you realize jungwoo was still asleep. you pick up your phone once more and scroll through twitter.

“told you, you wouldn’t be able to walk after I was done with you,” a deep voice says.

“damn it!” you shout and all you hear is airy laughs from beside you.

[insufferablelust]

Hi, I hope you're having a great day! I was wondering if you could write something for Hotch where the reader is one of the younger members and he always wants to protect her. She messes up on a case and Strauss yells at her and she ends up crying and Hotch takes care of her. Thank you so much, and it is okay if you don't want to write it!

Hi! i’m so sorry it took me awhile to write your piece but i hope this is worth it! and i also changed it a bit so i hope you don’t mind, but if you have any specific ideas just let me know! anyways thank you so much for requesting and waiting! much love!

This is an Aaron Hotchner x SA!Reader Blurb.

Warnings : Fluffs, angst, Mean!Strauss, Hotch is like your caregiver in a professional way like he guides you through the cases and help you etc because you’re new and young, Mention of Guns, Blood, Supportive!BAU, Mental disorder, and Abductions.

this blurb also have a special meaning to me since i’m diagnosed with the same Disorder the unsub has in this so i’m sorry if the descriptions are a bit too detailed. i still hope you like it and give me feedbacks or constructive criticisms thank you for reading❤️

———————

Being the youngest in every field has its own disadvantages, when you were at school, being the youngest would get you picked at, but you shut them up quickly with your bravery. When you were in college, most people doubted you even your professors, but you also managed to make them stare in awe when you became the top student of your criminal psychology class. When you were training in the academy, many underestimate you, but again— you came out on top, trainee with the highest score amongst others. So you never thought about being the youngest much,

No, not until you actually work— by work i mean becoming a part of BAU, Special Agent Y/n Y/l/n. It was easy at first, you received such a warm welcome from your new teammates that you already thought that this is going to be easy enough. The first time you met them were at the bullpen, they were all lounging and talking about a recent case as you stepped in nervously yet you put a stern smile. The first person who approached you was the wonderful Miss Penelope Garcia, who happens to be your friend, and then you shook hands with David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Aaron Hotchner, Dr. Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, and got a flirty remark from none other than Derek Morgan— who you scoffed at and said “not going to work on me pal, Garcia has told me aaaall about it” which drew laughter.

Your assignments were quite easy at first, you were always the one to be confident, top of your class and all— so on your first day you got your first assignment with the team, a case in Virginia. You were told to follow Agent Hotchner, and you have to be honest that it couldn’t be any more easier for you. He showed you the ropes, how to analyze certain behaviors, even let you interview the family alone. He made you feel safe and comfortable to do this job, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Now that you’ve gotten to several cases, you’ve felt like you earned your place here, not just as the new girl, but a profiler, an agent, and you couldn’t be more prouder— and you can’t help but to thank Aaron for it, he always guides you through all the horrible things that you just feel content to work on cases with him. Your teammates joked about it sometimes, saying how close you two have gotten, they noticed how Hotch never raised his voice with you, not once, it’s either you’re that good or as Prentiss likes to call it “He has a soft spot for you (Y/n)”

But not all paths are smooth paths, it was sunday afternoon, you were lounging with Emily, Garcia, and Sergio when you heard the call coming from Garcia’s phone. Upon seeing “HOTCHER” as the called id, you and Prentiss sigh deeply before preparing your go bag not even bothering for Garcia to finish the phone call.

Turns out it was a child abduction case, and the first thing to note about this is that time is of the essence and every second counts. The first abduction started in Virginia a month ago, where it was handled by the local police— but then the same type of M.O and Victimology appeared in some abduction cases all over the country, the most recent one is Los Angeles. So off to LA you goes with the team, only thing different this time is that JJ and Hotch was staying behind to talk to the police in Virginia—it’s your first ever case without his guidance and you haven’t decided if you like it or hate it.

———————————

12 hours into the abduction, and Y/n has messed up bad, bad enough that it put her own life in jeopardy. Y/n had gone to follow a lead, that she received from the hotline tip, she debated at first.. on telling the others about the call she received, all her training would told her to tell someone, you can’t go alone but the caller insist that you go alone. Something about this man is not right, you can feel it in your guts. But you know that if you were about to tell the others- they wouldn’t let you pursue, not because you’re incapable but because its not right to go alone, but you took the risk to save these children— the caller did mentioned you only have 10 minutes to drive to his address and if you don’t show up alone, the children will be killed— and you can’t let that happen. So you told the tip responder that you have told your team and that you’re under pursue before sprinting out of the LAPD.

When the team realized that Y/n was gone, it was an hour after she actually left. The second they found out about her whereabouts, they rushed to the location— already hoping that you and the kids are still alive. To their relief, you were found alive, but you were tied to a chair, face bloodied and its clear that you took some harsh beating. The unsub was holding one of the child, threatening to kill him.

He was a man who has Abandonment issues with severe borderline personality disorder, the reason why he abducts children is because he hated his childhood— he hated himself for being a fuck up, so he took the perfect children according to his judgment and kept them— it’s masochistic, he kept them as a reminder for himself of how worthless he is.

“Put the gun down, and let the boy go” Morgan’s voice rang through the abandoned building, causing the unsub to panic and move backwards “No! stay there! c-come any closer and i’ll blow his perfect fucking face off” He snarled, before you gained all the energy you have left and speak up,

“Adam, let him go please. I know how you feel, and let me show you that you are none of those things your mind is telling you. You’re not worthless and you deserve to be loved, a- a mother’s love.. don’t you missed it? Come here, i- i can give it to you” You coughed up blood as your vision gets blurry, The team gasped as the unsub let the boy go.. all of them and kneeled next to you, gun still in hand as he untied you, then lay his head on your thighs. Your fingers shakily move, to ran through his hair, and inching to get the gun from here.

“Shh, shh Mama’s here, give me the toy.. I’ll let you play w-with it later” You said holding back the tears as he slowly handed you the loaded gun before you tossed it and the team cuffed him.

You cried hard as you fell to your knees on the floor, the last thing you heard was Prentiss’s voice calling for medic and then you black out.

——————-

Its been a few days after the incident, you’re on your way back to Quantico. Some of the bruisings are gone but there are some scars that will be there forever, and honestly you don’t worry about it all— the only thing you worry about is what your superior is going to do with you. You knew you messed up bad and it doesn’t matter that you are the reason that those kids are free, you should’ve told your team. When Emily asked you why, you said it’s just gut feeling em. And when Spencer asked you how’d you know?

you told him, that The unsub told you about his young mother, the same exact age as your age, your hair color, and around your height. Thats why he wanted you to come, and the pieces clicked, All of the hesitancy to kill, He liked the pain, not inflicting it to others if not necessary but to himself. That’s how you know. Your answer seemed to please the young doctor as he smiled and whispered a small “Great job, Agent.”

All of them were understanding on why you did it, except Morgan because he’s like your big brother but he did said something along the lines of “You’re a damn good profiler but you’re still stupid” but the worst had to come from your superior; Erin Strauss.

As soon as you landed in Quantico, Hotch was there waiting for you, then escort you to his room, where Strauss was there also. You were nervous not because you’re wrong but because you knew you could’ve done better and it’s against the regulations.

Hotch had said to you during a phone call that he “understands why you did what you did but it certainly doesnt justify it.” The way he spoke those words calmed you down up until now.. standing in front of Strauss herself.

“Agent Y/n, sit down.” You sat down in front of her with Hotch leaning against his desk, you put on a smile as you keep eye contact with her, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine, Ma’am. Thank you for asking—i’ve completed the psych evals too and-“

“What you did was reckless and stupid, Agent. You put your own life in danger as well as your teammates. You let your own ambition to lead you into this mess—“

Taken aback at her words, you quickly replied, “Excuse me Ma’am, with all due respect i never have any intention other than saving the boys from the unsub. So i don’t understand how my ‘ambition’ led me.”

“Agent, you will not interrupt me. Must i remind you that you’re an intelligent, bright, and exceptionally young with a lot of great potentials but let me ask you this, Are you too immature that your ambition on becoming the one who caught the unsub is your top priority? The Director agreed that maybe you should take another year of training to successfully complete mature so you dont make mistakes like this.” and at that your eyes brimmed with tears, How could she? how could she compared your age to how you do your job? You were trying to save the kids and you did. Your age has no connection to any of this and certainly not to your abilities. You were about to say something when Hotch stand and put a finger up signaling you to hold it.

“Ma’am I know what Y/n did is incredibly reckless but she only did that because the unsub specifically asked for her— she reminded him of his young mother, their features are the same. Agent Y/n, does know the regulations and protocols, and she knows that if she tells anyone the risk of those boys dying is greater than any other. So with all due respect Ma’am, As her direct superior in this case, i’m asking you to back up and let me handle her penalty according to my professional judgment as someone who has seen her incredible work and sacrifices.” His voice is loud, ringing on your ears like you’re the only thing that mattered. It left you speechless as he give you the tissue box and then waiting for Erin’s reply.

To your surprise she didn’t say anything before leaving his office. You broke down once again, gasping for air as you feel the pain now, the ache on your shoulder and wrists, the dull pain on your face, the cuts and bruises on your stomach. You are exhausted, and It seemed that Hotch knows it too.

He sit besides you as he gently placed your head on his shoulder, so you can cry with a shoulder to support you. You were so exhausted, that you dont even care if this is breaking any rules or protocols. You just want to save people, you just want to be with your team.

“She won’t do anything, I promise you that ill protect and guides you, so hang onto my words.” He said, rubbing the back of your neck and shoulders as you let out tiny gasps, trying to form a sentence.

“T-thank- y-you, Aaron.” is the only thing you managed to speak before the exhaustion wipes you out, the last thing you heard was his voice, “Anytime Y/n, Sleep well.”

——————

Feel free to send me blurb ideas! give this a like and reblog, thank you!

[hopelesshawks]

Hiii! Umm I'm not sure where we make requests but could you write one where Hawks' spouse was a Pro Hero with an Earth/Plant Manipulation Quirk but they retired to take care of their kid. But now the Commission is asking them to come back for an important mission ???

Thank you! I love your writing 🥺

This is the perfect place to ask for requests Love! This is so precious and I’m so glad you love my writing I’m honored ahhh ❤️

The kid is mentioned as having features both from reader and Hawks but I made this request otherwise gender neutral so just assume that regardless of parental gender there’s a way to get kids that are both of theirs genetically

Tenchi is every bit his father’s son. He may have your hair and when the time comes your quirk, scarlet wings being notably absent when he was born, but his eyes, the markings around them, and his personality even at just three years old are all Keigo. Keeping up with him is a full time job, which is precisely why you decided to retire after his birth. Sure your husband had felt guilty at first that you’d sacrificed work for your burgeoning family but you’ve told him enough times now that you don’t regret your choice for a second that he’s let it go. In all honesty you’ve been enjoying your retirement. Watching Tenchi grow up has brought you such genuine joy and with each passing day you’re only further amazed by the small human you and Keigo have managed to produce.

You’re in the middle of making a flower twist and dance around your giggling toddler when you get the call. A quick check of the caller ID has you rolling your eyes as you answer. “Whatever it is, the answer’s no,” you huff. “Japan needs you,” the commission member on the other side of the line says gruffly. “No, my son needs me, you all want me. There’s an important distinction,” you reply. “One mission, that’s all we’re asking for,” the man sighs. “No, get someone else to do it.” “There is literally no one else who can do it.”

“You’re kidding…”

“I wish I was.”

You sigh heavily down the line.

“One last mission then I mean it, don’t call me again.”

“Gladly.”

Hawks is the only reason you don’t quit the mission. You’ve always loved working with him, it’s how the two of you first met, and he keeps you from yelling too much at the people working with you both when you’re feeling particularly cranky at being separated from your child. Tenchi stays with your parents in the meantime and you and Hawks FaceTime him every night after working. You miss your bundle of joy but seeing the way his little golden eyes light up when you and Keigo’s faces appear on screen makes your heart absolutely melt.

It takes a week to resolve the incident and you’ve never been happier to see the Fukuoka train station in your life than when Keigo gently shakes you awake with a fond smile to let you know you’ve returned home. As you step off the train your eyes search the crowd until you see a familiar little body clinging to the pants leg of one of your parents. Tenchi spots you and Keigo about the same time you spot him and instantly he’s rushing forward with the sort of recklessness only children possess. It doesn’t matter though because you’re running forward to meet him, grasping hold and lifting him into the air and into your arms the minute you reach him. Keigo isn’t far behind, wrapping you and Tenchi both in his arms and his wings to keep out the invasive flashing of the paparazzi’s cameras. “You get the bad guys?” Tenchi asks with big, excited eyes, looking between you and Keigo. “Of course, Mommy kicked bad guy butt,” Keigo grins, throwing you a wink. “I wan’ go next time,” the little boy pouts and you can’t help but chuckle. “Tell you what when you’re big and strong Daddy and I will take you to fight bad guys with us. Ok?” you offer. “Ok!” Tenchi beams, sunny disposition immediately returning in full force.

Later that night when you and Keigo are laying in bed, Tenchi fast asleep between the two of you, he turns his curious gaze on you, watching as you smooth the hair over your son’s head. “Do you think you’ll take another one?” Keigo asks quietly so as not to wake up your sleeping child. “Hm?” “Do you think you’ll take another mission?”

You think it over for a moment but then shake your head, a small loving smile stretching your lips.

“I’ve already got a mission right here.”

“It is a pretty great one, I’ll give you that.”

“Yea and my partner on it isn’t so bad either.”

“You sure about that? I hear he’s pretty absent.”

You stop and look at him, his smile having gone sad as he continues to stare at Tenchi, guilt obvious in his golden irises. “Hey, look at me,” you tell him. It takes a moment but eventually he does. “You’re an incredible hero but you’re an even better father. You try so hard to be there for Tenchi and he and I both know that. So I don’t want to hear it alright?” you insist. “Alright,” Keigo huffs, lips twitching up into a rueful smile. “Hey I mean it. I don’t want to hear you doubting yourself Kei. You’re an amazing dad. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good. I love you pretty bird.”

“And I, you Dove.”

General Masterlist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan

[raindancer2004]

Alec and his Cinderella

Word Count: 3,195 Alec x reader Part One Warnings: Alec is aged up. Fluff, Angst

Alec was sitting his room reading although he wasn’t enjoying the book; having read it many times before. He came to the realisation that he was bored; he needed a change of scenery, something new to do but he wasn’t sure what. “Are you ok brother?” Jane asked “You’ve been looking at the same page for ten minutes” Alec didn’t answer her right away “I’m just…a little bored. I mean I’ve read this book many times before….” “Well of course it’s your favourite” Jane cut him off “I know…but…oh I don’t know…” He ran his fingers through his hair “I suppose I’m…bored. We haven’t had a mission in weeks” Alec continued, Jane nodded “I didn’t realise it had been that long brother.”

Aro called a meeting with the elite guard “Thank you for coming dear ones. My brothers and I have something we would like to discuss with you. Renesmee is now fully grown and has requested the chance to go out into the human world; attend High School, see what it’s like but doesn’t wish to do so with her family. She got in touch to ask if it was ok for her to do so seeing as her father told Caius that he would keep her hidden from the human world” “Glad to see one of the Cullen children has a brain cell” Caius said snidely, causing the guards to smirk; Aro rolled his eyes at his brother and continued “She has agreed that one of you accompany her instead. I just need a volunteer” “No chance” Felix mumbled “I’ll go master. I think a change of scenery will be good” Alec replied “Fancy your chances with her do you?” Demetri asked winking at Alec “Oh yeah totally” Alec replied sarcastically and rolling his eyes.

“Will you be coming too sister?” “No. I couldn’t possibly leave Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum on their own for that length of time, imagine the chaos” Jane replied nodding in Demetri and Felix’s direction “Ha…I do love the affectionate nicknames you give each other” Aro said smiling “I doubt he’d say that if he knew some of the names we call her” Felix said low to Demetri, who choked back a laugh.

“That’s settled then Alec will be going to forks and the three of you will stay here and cover his duties. Although I might get Afton to cover Alec’s guard duties” Caius said with a wicked smile. “How soon do I need to be in Forks?” Alec asked “In a rush to see her are we?” Felix asked grinning “Grow up” Alec glared him. “You can leave as soon as you are ready, my boy” Aro answered “Give our best wishes to them won’t you Alec” Marcus said low “Of course master” He replied and returned to his room to pack.

Sometime later Demetri, Jane and Felix stopped by “So how come you volunteered so quick to go High School? I thought you hated humans” Demetri asked “Not to mention the Cullens” Felix added “I came to the realisation recently that I am bored and would like a change of scenery…and well this will provide me with that” Alec answered “Rather you than me mate…I mean the Cullens are bad enough but to be around that Dog all the time, no thanks” Felix said scrunching up his nose at the thought of the Wolf pack. “Just remember you have to play nice with the humans Alec…They’re your friends now so that means you cannot eat them” Demetri says smirking pointing his index finger at him; Felix and Jane cant help laughing “Get bent” Alec growled “Really sister?” He asked turning to face her “I’m sorry but that was funny, it was like weird dad advice” She said giggling “Don’t eat your friends…ha” She continued to laugh “If you need me to attend parent / teacher conferences, you only have to call” Demetri added smiling, Jane was practically doubled over with laughter “Can you…i-imagine it…Demetri attend-attending…those meetings...he’d flirt with all your teachers” “At least Alec would get good grades then” Felix added laughing “Thank you so much for your support in this…it’s truly overwhelming” Alec said not sounding amused “Sorry brother…you have my full support…honest” Jane said trying to sound serious now “Yes…you have my full support too…son” Demetri smiled and gave Alec a playful wink. “Mine too” Felix adds.

A few days Alec arrived in Forks, Esme collecting him from the airport “Hello Alec. It’s nice to see you. I trust you had a good flight?” She asked him “Hello Mrs Cullen. It’s nice to see you too. The flight was ok if you don’t count the child that spent half the flight crying and screaming” He replied “Sorry to hear that. No need for Mrs Cullen, you can call me Esme” “Thank you Mrs…Esme” He replied “We have set you up in Edward’s old room, there’s a bookcase full of books, a desk even a TV and a bed, should you wish to relax in your own space” She told him with a smile “Thank you for letting me stay with you” “You’re very welcome Alec. It’s the least we can do seeing as you are helping out Renesmee. I do have to tell you though there is one rule that must be followed during your stay. You aren’t allowed to…satisfy your dietary requirements shall we say in Forks. You will need to leave the city for that” “I understand…we have a similar rule back home…Volterra is out of bounds when it comes to...satisfying our dietary requirement” Alec responds.

Esme pulls up on the drive and sees Renesmee waiting for them “I should warn you Renesmee is really excited you’re here so…be prepared for a hug” Alec nods ‘surely she wouldn’t’ he thought to himself. “Alec! You’re here” Renesmee calls out; running and wrapping her arms around his neck giving him a hug, Alec hesitantly wraps his arms around her waist “Told you” Esme says smiling as she walks past them. “Ha…you owe me $10 Jas” Emmett calls out laughing.

That night Carlisle, Esme, Alice and Jasper sat in the family room with Alec and explained the cover story the school were told regarding himself and Renesmee. “It has been several years since any of our children have attended the school here; so we had to come with a plausible cover you and Ness, especially as no one really knows about her and I still work at the local hospital” Carlisle began, Alec nodded “Just a bit background for you first regarding us. Jasper poses as Rosalie’s twin and they use her last name Hale and it is known that they are the niece and nephew of Esme’s late brother. Emmett, Alice and Edward all use the name Cullen as Esme and I adopted them” Carlisle added. “Ok, so how do Renesmee and I fit into the family?” Alec asked “So Jasper had the idea that you and Ness should pose as siblings and use his last name of Whitlock. You would be the Carlisle’s niece and nephew and after losing your parents recently you have come to live with us” Esme explained. “That sounds alright actually. You’re good at this” Alec smiled. “Oh and we thought it would make sense if you and Ness were twins so you’d be in the same year at school” Alice added smiling “I have your new ID too courtesy of a friend” Jasper said handing Alec a birth certificate and passport “Thank you Jasper”

The day before school starts Renesmee pays Alec a visit “I’m going to hunting, would you like to come?” She asked him “You mean animals?” He asked in return his nose wrinkling at the thought “Not necessarily…I mean prefer your diet to ours…so I game either way” She smiled and he noticed the mischievous glint in her eyes “As much as I’d love that, I do not think your family would approve of you switching to my diet during my stay” Alec answered “Well then that means you can try our diet during your stay. Come on I’ll show you how to hunt animals” She sounded excited at the thought of showing someone how to hunt so he didn’t tell her that he had hunted animals previously on a mission albeit decades ago.

“Oh my god! You were so fast and you took down that Mountain Lion quicker than dad usually does” Ness said grinning as she and Alec entered the house “You taught me well Ness” Alec praised her “Thank you Alec” Edward chuckled having read Alec’s thoughts that he had hunted animals before but he appreciated Alec’s little lie and the hunting trip had helped them bond a little.

“Where have you been? Why are you with him?” Jake almost growled giving Alec a disgusted look “Shit” Emmett said from upstairs “Get lost Jake. Where I go and who with is none of your business” Ness replied “Come on Alec” She grabbed his hand and went to walk around Jake but he side stepped blocking her path “That is where you are wrong. It is my business” Jake raised his voice and before Ness knew what was happening Alec pushed her behind him and squared up to Jake “You have a problem with Ness, you have a problem with me! And for the record Ness doesn’t report to you, she can do whatever she likes. NOW MOVE!” Alec growled and stood his ground ready to defend Ness if needed, after all she was his ‘sister’ and no one was going to hurt her. Jake snarled at Alec and began shaking “Take it outside Jake!” Jasper warned from the top of the stairs “Don’t make me tell you a second time” “FINE!” Jake shoved past Alec on the way out “This isn’t over” He mumbled as he slammed the door behind him. “Thank you Alec” Ness said low “You’re welcome. Come on you promised me a movie night remember” Alec replied walking upstairs and Ness followed.

“I didn’t expect him to protect Ness like that” Emmett said to Jasper and Edward “Posing as siblings is easier if you think of one another as siblings” Edward replied “You mean he…he thinks of her a sister?” Jasper asked “Kind of. Think of it like this he is so used to having Jane around and doing things with her and although he knows she can take care of herself, he still protects and defends her. He has fallen into that brotherly role easily with Ness because A) she is alot younger than he is B) he didn’t like the way Jake spoke to her and C) he’s unsure if Ness could fully defend herself against Jake’s wolf form if she was ever put in that situation” Edward answered. “It’s a good thing he’s here then, maybe Jake will back off and respect her decision” Jasper replied.

Alec and Renesmee start High School the following week, the start of a new school year and Alec was surprised to discover that he was excited about this new venture. Although he missed Jane it was nice having Ness around and he had to admit he liked her company. Her view on things, on life was different; refreshing, as she was seeing everything for the first time, experiencing everything for the time and he had become fascinated by her and her reaction to the world. Ness introduced him to the world of Disney and the many princesses that lived within it. He decided to introduce Jane to the world of Disney once he was back at the castle.

The atmosphere at the Cullen house was quite relaxed compared to the castle; it definitely had a ‘family home’ vibe that he got used to very quickly, Esme and Carlisle making him feel as though he was part of their family from day one. He got along with Jasper easily as they would talk about history for hours; exchanging ‘war stories’ at times too. Emmett and Alec bonded over Emmett’s computer games; Alec would often beat him at Mario Cart, but would lose to him when playing Killer Instinct. Alice reminded him of Jane when it came to her knowledge of fashion trends; the season’s newest colours, her love of shopping and having her nails painted. Rosalie taught Alec about cars and he was amazed by her knowledge and love of them.

The first term of school went by rather quickly; Alec and Ness joined the chess team and Alec is elected the team captain. They both scored top marks in their ‘team project’ for history; Alec having been around during that time gave them an advantage.

They went to a school field trip to the Seattle Museum; something Alec and Ness found interesting and amusing “Hey, I’ve just realised something” Ness said low to Alec; who raised an eyebrow at her “You’re probably older than some of the exhibits Alec” Ness whispered “Are you saying I’m old?” “No not at all Alec…I’m saying you’re ancient” Ness said laughing “You say ancient, I say experienced, young one” Alec replied smiling “Young one? – Ha. You’re funny Alec” Ness responded.

A few days later Jake arrived at the Cullen house whilst everyone was out except for Alec and Ness “Ness! Ness! Where are you?” Jake yelled as he made his way through the house; Ness purposely ignoring him “So Alec, I’m struggling with question four, can you please explain it?” Ness asked as she and Alec were doing their homework together. “Of course. So…” “What the hell Ness? Did you not hear me call you?” Jake cut off Alec “And why are you here with him?” “I did hear you call and I chose to ignore you and what does it look like I’m doing?” Ness replied “Don’t take that tone with me!” Jake growled out “You should be at home not here” “You don’t own me Jacob and I don’t have to answer to you” Ness replied “That is where you are wrong! You belong to ME” He growled getting closer to her “And I forbid you to spend time with him outside of school. Is that clear?!” Ness didn’t answer “IS THAT CLEAR?!” He growled louder, mere inches from Ness when black mist swirled around him removing all of his senses but one – hearing “Listen to me Jake. Ness doesn’t belong to you, she doesn’t belong to anyone. Ness can do what she wants, when she wants and with whomever she wants. If you ever speak to her that way again I will RIP you to pieces and burn them. Is that understood…DOG?!” Alec got louder as he spoke. “Ness doesn’t want you. You should leave…NOW!” Alec added calmly but authoratively and returned Jake’s senses; Jake was preparing to lunge at Ness but Alec was quicker he pushed Ness out of the way and threw Jake across the room. Jake crashed through the glass balcony doors and landed in a heap outside, right at Emmett’s feet. “I think that means you’re not welcome here Jake” Emmett smirks as he steps over him making his way inside. Carlisle and Esme flash to Alec’s room to find Ness crying and being in Alec’s arms “You’re ok…I’ve got you. You’re safe…I promise” Alec whispered and tightened his hold on her. Carlisle and Esme took a seat on the bed and Alec filled them on Jake’s visit and apologised for the damage to the doors.

The High School decided to throw a ‘Winter Masquerade Ball’ with the emphasis on being the ‘mystery behind the mask.’ As ball got nearer, Alec and Ness went shopping for their outfits and masks. Ness picked a deep purple sleeveless floor length dress, a purple and black mask, and a pair of black shoes. Alec chose a dark grey suit with a deep purple shirt, a light grey tie and black shoes. His mask was black and grey. “I’m really excited, I’ve never been to a ball before” Ness said grinning ear to ear “I must admit it has been a long time since I attended a ball. The masters used to hold them regularly at the castle, but there hasn’t been one in quite some time” He told her.

Y/N attends the ‘Winter Masquerade Ball’ at the High School and Alec noticed her the moment she entered the school hall dressed in a pink sleeveless prom dress with white flowers scattered over the dress with a pink and silver mask. “Sorry Alec, am I keeping you from something or someone?” Renesmee asked with a smile when she noticed him look over shoulder towards the door “No…I…Er…What was you saying?” Alec responded “I was just asking if you think you’ll dance with anyone here tonight?” Renesmee replied “Well…erm…a girl in a pink dress just came in on her own, so I could ask her…but what about you?” “Go ask her to dance, I’ll be ok. I can ask Matt from English class” Ness replied “Thank you Ness. How will you which one is Matt, the whole point of tonight is the ‘mystery behind the mask’?” Alec asked curious “I heard Matt tell Lee what colour mask he’ll be wearing” Ness replied.

Alec approached the girl in the pink dress “Would you like to dance?” He smiled and held his hand out to her. “That’d be nice thank you” Y/N placed her hand in his and he led them to the dance floor.

They danced and spoke to one another throughout the night; never exchanging names. Alec found himself becoming intrigued by her; the way she moved elegantly around the dance floor with him, the warmth he felt holding her in his arms during the slow songs, her voice was soft and her laugh was quickly becoming his new favourite sound. “Would you like a drink?” He asked her “Yes, please a drink sounds good” She replied “Wait here. I’ll be right back” Alec made his way to the drinks table and got the girl a drink, making himself one too. He turned and started to make his way back to her when he saw her look at the clock and then turn and run from the room. Alec set the drinks down on a table of full of teenagers and followed her out; being careful to run at a human speed. He couldn’t see her; she had disappeared before he was able to say goodnight, before he could get her name or number, something he was going to do at the end of the Ball. He tried to pick up her scent, follow her to ensure she got home safe but that’s when he realised that he hadn’t recognised her scent whilst dancing with her, so that meant they didn’t have any classes together. ‘wait she had no scent, not one I can remember anyway’ he thought to himself. He felt frustrated as he had never felt so at peace around a human before and now he’s lost her;  the only reminder that she was real, the only clue he had to try and find her was a silver shoe she left behind as she ran off into the night.

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Love in True Form II

Warnings: Non-con, dub-con, A/B/O, loss of virginity, breeding kink, lactation kink, multiple pregnancies, multiple children, birth, maybe more, 18+

Word Count: 2,720

Pairings: Dark Alpha! Steve Rogers / Omega! Reader, Dark Alpha! Bucky Barnes / Omega! Reader

Summary: Reader moves to the country side to live a slower life she’s not used to after living all her life in the city. She meets two men who can’t seem to get out of her life, and she sees them everywhere. What happens when their instincts get the better of them?

Chapter summary: Reader starts to settle in and has her first meeting with a new client. 

- indicates POV change

~ indicates a time change

A/N: WOW this is completely overdue. Hope everyone enjoys, my masterlist should be working soon. ALSO the POV will stay first person, so sorry if you’re not into that. I’m trying to interoperate different writing styles, and I have plenty of other fics in 2nd person (3rd person will be next at some point in another fic) 

xxx

When I got home, I was still a little shaken from the two guys I had encountered. Their crystal blue eyes made me feel unsettled, yet I couldn’t shake the familiarity I got from them. Had I met them before? Were they there when I was scoping out this place a few months ago? Questions racked my brain, but it was impossible. The only person I had met was my real estate agent. Nobody had been around for miles, and today was the first day I had traveled into town. 

I decided not to think about it any longer due to the countless emails from patients trying to set up virtual appointments. I opened them up and started working my way through each person, delicately reading and responding appropriately with a time that worked for us both. 

-

Steve slammed down the supplies he had bought at the store into the shed. Bucky was inside working on the fire to keep them warm for the night. Steve’s body tingled as he remembered the omega they encountered, as he remembered her faint scent, saw her beautiful body. He felt his blue jeans get a bit tighter at the thought of having her as his own. It’s what they’ve been dreaming of for years, him and Bucky. 

Steve ventured back into the house to find Bucky pacing about with his hands behind his back. When Steve shut the door, Bucky turned to him, halting his pacing. 

“We have to find her.”

“I know,” Steve sighed, moving to the kitchen to start dinner. 

“She smelled magnificent, Stevie, I never thought I’d find someone. She was an omega. A real omega. They don’t exist anymore!”

Steve nodded along. He wasn’t ignoring his friend, quite the opposite actually. He was devising a plan to get their omega. He wasn’t sure how he would, but he wanted it to be as sweet as possible for her. But he also thought of possible reasons she was alive. It didn’t make any sense. Like Bucky said, omegas didn’t exist anymore. 

In their day, there were thousands of them. Steve was a beta then so he had no chance at them, but Bucky was always an alpha. From both of their understanding, omegas had died off while they were still in ice. The omegas had bred with alphas, nothing else was possible, but their offspring seemed to be only beta. Now, nobody really knew what alphas, betas, or omegas were; they were just humans. No special category to go into. 

“Steve?” Bucky was sweating at this point, the worrying for the omega was bringing his alpha out of him. He was looking at Steve with wide, blown out eyes. Steve smiled sweetly before clapping his hand over Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Buck, I know. Her scent hasn’t left me since we saw her in town, and I’d be lying if I said this all made sense. We’ll get her, though, don’t worry. I have a plan.” Bucky nodded his head and glanced at the ground as he put his weight on another foot. 

“When?” he asked impatiently yet gloomfully, meeting his eyes again.

Steve sighed and removed his hand. “We have to ease her into it, Buck. We can’t scare her or force anything, it’ll just make everything that follows way harder than it needs to be.”

Bucky nodded at Steve’s words. He knew what he said was true, but he needed his omega. Their omega. The thought of sharing an omega would typically never be an option for him, but with Steve it was different. 

Steve knew this girl had no idea what he or Bucky was. Hell, she didn’t even know what she was! She was going to be scared and reluctant, and she’d fight them until the end. They were going to have to shape her into an omega. No doubt she wasn’t taught properly how to be one, but Steve could be patient. He had waited this long, he could wait a little longer. 

Bucky switched from foot to foot one last time before retiring to the kitchen. Steve looked at his friend and shook his head. He had a feeling his Bucky wasn’t going to be as willing to wait as him. 

-

I was jerked from my dreams with a loud snore. I looked around and saw my small home completely dark, save for the little moonlight coming through my living room curtains. I sat up from my couch and grabbed the book that I had been reading, that had fallen to the floor, before making my way into the kitchen where my laptop sat. 

I pressed a few keys to wake up the monitor, and I looked at the time--when the screen lit up--to see it was half past 1. I scrolled to my email tab and saw a new email request from someone who wanted to set up an appointment. I clicked on the email and quickly typed in a response for a time to talk that suited us both. 

This Steve Rogers seemed nice. 

~

My hands ached as I planted the last cabbage plant into the ground. So far I had a garden of carrots, cabbage, broccoli, and celery. This new vegetarian diet was something I had never tried before, nor were these foods something I was particularly fond of, but I was more than willing to give it a try. 

I dusted my hands off and ventured inside the cabin to where my only two pieces of technology lay. I checked the time on my phone before setting it back down. I still had 15 more minutes before my online meeting with Steve started, so I walked to the fridge to cool down with water and have a break. 

I looked at my bookshelf and decided I needed more books. All I could fit in my car was about 30 books, but I had already read most of them. It wouldn’t take long to get through the rest, but thankfully Molly told me she had some I could have. I smiled to myself at the thought of being met with a bunch of planting books when going to retrieve the older woman’s stash. Not that I wouldn’t use them, though, Lord knows I certainly need to get better at this whole gardening thing. My hunger kinda depended on it. 

I was brought from my thoughts when my computer started ringing from the Skype app, causing me to frown at the screen. Who could that be? No patients were scheduled right now, and nobody else would want to call me; my family and few friends seemed to be shunning me on my choice to leave. Maybe they believed if they shunned me enough I’d come back to the city. I scoffed at that. Not a chance.

I pushed myself from the counter I was leaning on and walked to the screen to look at the ID. “Steven Rogers.” I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at the clock at the bottom right hand corner of the screen. We still had 10 more minutes. Regardless, I reluctantly pressed “answer”; what else am I doing right now?

Skype connected us, but Steve’s screen was completely black. I checked my connection, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t hear anything, so I decided to wait a few more seconds for him to connect. His internet must be bad. 

“Steve?” I smiled at the dark screen, and hoped he could at least see me. Putting a face to a name and voice could really help someone who’s going through something; it can help them realize other people do care. 

“Hello?”

“Hey! Oh, erm- can you see me? Your screen is black, so I can’t see you.” It got silent for a second. 

“Oh, yeah I can see you. I don’t know why you can’t see me; I’m sorry it’s probably me. I’m not good at this technology stuff. I had a hard time turning on my mic, that’s why I was silent at first.” He gave a dry laugh.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay. I had a hard time getting used to this when I first started, too, so don’t worry! You’ll get used to it soon.” I smiled at the dark screen, I was glad Steve could see me. “I should apologize for my appearance, though, I was working in the garden.”

“Oh, you look lovely, don’t worry.”

I blushed at his compliment and reached for the bag leaning against the table’s leg. Inside was a notebook that contained details about my patients. I didn’t like discussing much over email or text--I liked talking about it face to face, or face to black screen in this case-- so that’s why Steve’s section was mostly empty. All I knew was his name and that he lived about 10 miles from me. 

“Well, enough about me. What did you want to discuss today?”

~

Steve and I ended up talking about how he felt different from everyone else. He felt he couldn’t relate with everyone else and that he just felt alienated. I nodded the entire time he spoke, stealing glances at my notebook to take notes every few seconds. 

When he was done I asked him a few questions. Any reasons he may have as to why he felt this way, when did he start feeling like this? Was there any dramatic change in his life? He answered he used to feel normal, in his early years, but one day he just woke up and felt unable to relate to the people around him anymore. He even felt he lost family and friends. My heart broke in my chest as I jotted down more notes. That was something I could sort of relate to, I thought.

We talked about ways he could enter outside of his comfort zone, finding hobbies that others enjoyed in order to feel a bit more connected. Go to stores that, not many people shopped at, but enough to let him ease into a life that involved other people again.

I asked him if he had any social media. If he wasn’t comfortable with doing social things in person yet, there were plenty of groups to join online that incorporated fun activities and joined people together virtually. It could also be a good way to connect with lost connections and maybe make new ones. 

“Oh, no Doll, I can’t say I do. I’m not really into anything like that. I don’t even have a tv, and, as you can already see, have bad internet.” He chuckled again and I joined in a bit. 

“Oh yeah, I understand.” I had sworn off phones--except my cell that was stripped of everything except my contacts list-- and tvs, so I understood where Steve was coming from completely. “Well hey, no harm in that. Social media can be good, but in my opinion the best contact can be made face to face. No offense.” I laughed at the irony and Steve did, too. 

“Thank you, and I agree.”

I hummed in response and pulled out my calendar from my bag. I looked for a free spot next week, and saw an opening on Thursday at 3:45. 

“Alright, Steve, it’s been a pleasure speaking with you, but our time is up, sadly. I’d like to reschedule an appointment with you, if that’s okay, next week. How does Thursday at 3:45 sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Great! Okay, remember what I said. I look forward to our next chat. Hopefully I can see you next time,” I added with a smile and a small giggle.

“Me too, talk to you soon, Doll.” There goes that nickname and my blush again.

“Bye!” The call ended and I made a few more notes in my notebook before closing it. My next appointment wasn’t for another hour, so I thought maybe I could go to town to get some stuff I couldn’t grow myself--or at all.  

As I went to shower and look presentable, I couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. He was a charmer, and for someone who felt disconnected was able to connect with me fast. I tried to destroy the barrier I tended to feel with patients that had been made. They sometimes saw me as a figure, but I wanted them to feel as if I were a friend they could confide in. I was there to help them, yes, but I didn’t see the need in them calling me Miss. My name would do just fine, or any other nickname they picked up along the way, but Steve chose “doll” fairly quickly. He even asked me a lot of questions. Where I lived before, where I lived now, where I went to college, things like that. We had a lot more in common than I thought we would, though, so maybe that’s why we just clicked better. Everyone moves at different speeds, and I needed to remember that.

-

Steve pushed the laptop further down the table, away from him. He had a giant smile on his face, and he couldn’t deny the hard on he was sporting from just hearing her voice. He couldn’t believe the tape and microphone trick had worked. He felt bad about lying, but he didn’t want to scare her off by seeing him. Plus, he needed to hear her voice and her breathing for a bit, just before he started speaking. 

When she introduced herself to him, it took him everything not to repeat it over and over like a love poem his mother used to read to him. He wanted to draw her in her “messy” state, her hair sticking up in wild places; some strands sticking to her forehead from sweat. He wondered if that’s what she’d look like under him.

He disappeared into his room and shut the door. Bucky went back into town after he found they had forgotten something at the store. Steve had a while before he got back, and he decided to take advantage of it. 

Steve laid down on the bed and shimmied out of his suddenly tight jeans. He gripped his member through his underwear and groaned at the feeling. He stroked his member over the fabric a few more times, teasing himself, before removing himself from his confides completely. Steve’s rock hard cock sprung out and hit his stomach, slightly bobbing. He sighed in frustration yet relief at the feeling. The tip was fiery red with precum oozing out from the slit. He spit into his hand before grabbing the base firmly. 

Steve stroked himself, slowly at first, up and down. He moaned and panted as his hand got him off, his mind on the woman and her sweet voice the entire time. How her boobs would look when they were released from the tight black shirt she had worn in the meeting. How she’d look begging for her alpha’s fat cock to plunge into your tiny cunt, milking him and bringing on his knot. How’d it feel to claim her and ceal you both in a bond. How she’d look carrying his pups, her tits leaking for milk he’d happily drink up. Steve took a break from working himself to tease his tip with his thumb, shuddering a bit before he pumped himself faster as his moans got louder and more desperate as his need to cum became greater and greater. He was whining the omega’s name like a chant as his other hand reached down to start playing with his balls. His hips were rising, fucking his fist harder and harder. He moaned a few more times before he felt the sweet swell of his cock as his knot grew. Spurts of cum flew from his pulsing member as he worked himself through his orgasm. He continued to roar and growl her name as he came down. 

When Steve was satisfied, he just stared at the ceiling, a smile still playing at his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cum that hard. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he was that hard! As he waited for his knot to subside, he started cleaning up his mess and headed into the shower. Bucky would be home any minute now, and he had to tell him everything that he had learned about you. 

xxx

[cyclogenesis]

director's commentary for 'got a feeling that i'm going under' - especially the relationship bucky has with sam's family, and the scene with sam getting hurt.

Oh man, Got a feeling that I'm going under, the fic into which I put every single emotion I ever had. The idea came from the most fantastically random source - many years ago while chatficcing porn with a friend we were writing a 5SOS Harry Potter AU (yes, I deeply miss having someone to chatfic out my worst id garbage with) and I wrote a bit where I used the phrase "like being split open in reverse" about magical wound-healing. The image always stuck with me, and one evening I was thinking about Bucky Barnes, and what his whole fucking deal is, and the idea for the first scene popped into my head. The accelerated healing factor of super soldiers is so interesting to me, and we've seen so little about it - but like with any injury, it helps a hell of a lot if you set the bone/close the wound/etc. first.

I'm always interested in how Bucky went from sniper twink to the guy pitching himself off a motorcycle headfirst at another super soldier; that dude has gotten reckless as hell with his body! So he for sure gets hurt a lot, and I doubt that he was tended to with much care when he was the Winter Soldier, so I imagine he's gotten used to seeing to his own injuries while in the field, probably to the point of feeling awkward about someone else checking on him now. Thus: Local Man, 106, Really Trying to Go to Bed Still Bleeding, Realizes Horrified Partner.

I started writing it sometime after episode 3 or 4 (taking it on faith that the show was gonna have a HEA), initially because the other thing I was working on was taking too long to get to the porn, so I thought I'd write a one scene 4k or so little thing where Sam tends to Bucky's wounds, and they're tucked close in a motel bathroom and, you know, then they fuck, good for them. But then I was really enjoying the tension of that scene, and then I thought about artistically carved magical wounds, and things escalated.

Honestly, my usual approach to any fic is "write enough story to earn the sex scene", so that's sort of what I was doing, but in the way where I kept complaining to my friends that I was trying to get to the porn, but I just kept writing all these feelings. (I think at this point, with this pairing at least, I have to admit that I also always want to write enough story to make it clear that even if they don't say so in the fic, they are absolutely in love with each other.)

I was really struggling with how to finish out the first kiss scene, because I really wanted to get to the porn, but it was just kind of a logistical pickle. It took awhile to occur to me that I didn't have to write about the first time they have sex, which was mind-blowing as that's almost always what I write. Once I realized that, I also realized that (at this point, after the high of the show's ending) I desperately wanted to write a little established relationship for them.

So a kitchen injury to continue the theme was kind of a gimme, and having Bucky cooking dinner at Sam and Sarah's felt like it went right along with how clearly Bucky is part of their family now per ep 6, and would thus be comfortable enough there after awhile to cook in their kitchen (though he still wants to do a good job!). Plus the kids clearly adore him, and I think AJ's still at the age where he'd openly be more dazzled by Bucky and thus eager to help him do whatever. Indulge me in breaking down the following bit, because it's one of my favorite parts:

“I’m fine,” Bucky says again, looking at the stove as if it might betray him and his carefully constructed soup if he gets out of its sightline. “It just needs to simmer for five more minutes.” (Still trying to refuse help, but he'll get there, bless him! Also though he's put a lot of effort into becoming a good cook, he still doesn't entirely trust recipes and gets a little nervous when four other people are depending on him to be fed.)

Sarah, having already assessed the scene and identified what needs to be done, retrieves a wooden spoon from the drawer and pokes Bucky with it. “I got it, go.” (I love the mental image of the wooden spoon poke. Like first of all yes, jab the man, but also it shows quickly that in Sarah's mind at this point Bucky is basically her brother-in-law. 😭!!)

“The salad is looking good,” AJ reports to everyone. (Children are small insane people that still require attention and validation even when someone else is literally bleeding! Love that for them, sincerely.)

“It’s gonna be a great salad, buddy!” Bucky says to him over his shoulder as Sam directs him to the first floor bathroom. (But like, Bucky is so good with kids. He's happy to validate AJ and appreciates his help! He wants to help AJ grow up to be a good man and men these days have to know how to cook! 🥺)

Bucky is out here and he's ready to be a Barnes-Wilson (or a Wilson-Barnes. Or a Wilson. He's flexible)!!

And now the last scene, man, the last scene. Like the rest of this fic, it was absolutely not planned ahead of time in any reasonable way. Let me be super honest here: I ran across a Tumblr post that was basically like "fics where Sam takes care of Bucky are stupid garbage and so are the people who write them" (loosely paraphrased) and I was like OH FUCK this fic is thematically wrong and I Am The Problem, and after brooding about that for probably longer than I should have I realized, relatedly and fortunately, that the only way it made sense to end this fic was to flip the theme on its head and have Sam get injured and Bucky have to look after him. And how Bucky would freak out and become immediately invested in doing everything he can to make sure he can take care of Sam in every way forever. From there I sat down and wrote out the last scene pretty quickly!

I always get the most nervous about endings, so I'm really glad people enjoyed this one. I was pretty in my feelings after posting this fic, considering that I hadn't written a story since 2018, it was my first one for this pairing, it's a real stylistic switch from my past uh few decades of work, I hadn't written for a media fandom with a ton of canon in one thousand years, the central theme was magical wound-healing (?!), etc. The response to it was an extremely pleasant surprise and something I'm still grappling with as I've continued to write in this fandom. I hope someday I can write something else that connects with people the way this one did!

[honestlyhappyharry]

Chapter 1

Prologue

4 and a half years later

The truth was you thought about Harry sometimes, or a lot of the time if you were being honest. Usually, it was happy thoughts about the way you laughed together and how everything made sense, until the day he stopped listening. You thought about him most when you looked at her. Lily-Anne Eleanor Styles. She was the most important thing in your life. And she looked just like her father, Harry. 

A lot of the time you thought about how much easier it would have been if you had gone back to Harry after your fight that night, you thought about infinite possibilities of how your life could have turned out and you thought about his soft, brown curls and greek god type look. 

But it was too late for that now. 

Raising Lily alone wasn’t the easiest thing you’d ever done but for the most part you weren’t alone you had your mum and Eleanor who were always there for you. You had met Eleanor when you were dating Harry and you has been friends ever since. It was surprising as Louis and Harry were friends and Eleanor was still with Louis but your paths never crossed. 

Once you and Harry broke up you knew you had to completely stop any communication with him. You didn’t go and get the rest of your things, you changed your phone number and took the money you had saved from when you were dating Harry and brought a 3 bedroom house in Santa Monica. Then, on the 19th of May, your daughter was born.

The living room was quiet before your phone started buzzing. “Hey, El.” You answer after reading the caller ID. A quick glance at the clock in the living room tells you it’s nearly 3 so you slip out the sliding door and stand in the backyard. 

“Y/n! How are you?” She had her usual chirpy tone of voice. You could hear the sound of other people talking in the background, the low, guy kind of talking that reminded you of all the times Harry had the boys over and they could be acting rowdily in the lounge. 

You didn’t know where Harry was living because whenever any mentioned him you’d zone out. Maybe, you weren’t sure, it was so you didn’t get hurt by what he was doing or because you just didn’t care. But it happened a lot. 

You took a few steps over to the glass pool fencing and leant on it. “I’m alright, Lily’s just about to wake up from her nap though.” You inform her. At 4 years old Lily didn’t always nap in the afternoon but this morning she had dance lessons and then you went for a walk on the beach so she was really tired. Usually, she napped most Saturday afternoons but this Tuesday she needed one. 

You were very fortunate to be able to work as an editor in the Los Angeles Times. It meant you were able to work from home a few days a week and in the office for a few days when Lily went to daycare. Seeing as it was a different type of job to the life you had with Harry, the media hadn’t been interested in what you were doing, thankfully because it was very easy to realise Lily was related to Harry. 

“I miss her so much,” Eleanor replied, you could almost see the smile on her face. From the beginning, Eleanor had been so supportive and helpful throughout your pregnancy and once Lily was born she was even better.

Being close with Eleanor meant you were also close with Louis, he was a lot like the father she didn’t have.

You replied to her previous comment with “El, we saw you like two weeks ago,” and a laugh which she returned with a giggle. 

“I know but she grows so much every time I see her.” She whined a little. “Anyway, I was calling to invite you to come to Disneyland with us tomorrow, Lily too of course.” She offered. Lily loved Disneyland possibly more than anything else and living in LA made it easy for you to take her there. “It’s okay if it’s too short notice.” Her voice came through the other end of the phone and you realised she hadn’t heard a reply. 

“Yeah, Lily would just love it. Have you guys rented the whole place?” You asked her. It had taken a while for you to get used to the celebrity lifestyle when you were with Harry, celebrities renting theme parks to avoid the paparazzi. 

The thought took you back to your one year anniversary with Harry when he’d rented Disneyworld out for you. After you’d spent half the day there Harry had let a big group of people from the homeless shelter with children in and insisted he’d pay for anything they wanted.

“No, just toon town and fantasy land, it’s kind of a trip for the kids. Louis’ bringing Freddie, Lou’s bringing Lux and the twins are coming as well. I think Louis might have invited Liam but I’m not sure.” She lists for you. 

You didn’t even have to think about it. “We’d love to come. I can’t wait to see Lou again and Lux must be so grown up. Oh, and the girls, I haven’t seen them in like half a year. We’ll definitely be there. After the two of you chat for a few minutes more about some trivial things you say goodbye and hang up.

You didn’t think to ask if Harry was coming because it didn’t occur to you he would be.

You walked back over to the house and slid the door open before walking back in to see Lily sitting on the couch. She usually came down stairs after a nap to see you. “Hey baby, want to go to Disney tomorrow?” You offer, already knowing the answer. Her face lit up quickly as she started frantically nodding her head. 

“Yeah, can you ask Auntie El to come?” She asked. Eleanor was definitely one of her favourite people.

“Yeah, she’s going to. Uncle Louis as well. And Lux, Lou and Freddie. Do you remember Liam? He might be there. And Daisy and Phoebe, they’re Louis’ sisters.” You list, trying to remember everyone and hoping she’d know someone you were talking about. 

All of the boys knew Lily was Harry’s daughter, from the curly brown hair to the green eyes it wasn’t hard to tell. Lily knew of Louis and Niall seeing as he was a good friend of yours. She sort of knew Zayn and Liam from the few times you had invited them over but you doubted she would remember either of them. 

Thankfully, Lily had never asked about her father which you thought was odd but you didn’t know what you’d say if she did ask.

“I remember Daisy and Phoebe.” She told you. They had met her on a few occasions and they just thought she was the cutest thing in the morning. “Is Liam got brown hair? And he’s quite tall?” She asked, you had a little at the fact that every adult she had met was taller than her but she still had to class them as tall.

“Yeah, but his hair might be different now.” You mention, trying to remember what it looked like when she last saw him and what it looked like from the photo you saw on his Instagram the other day. 

She snapped you out of your thoughts with her next question. “Snack now?”

_______________________________________________________________________

Taglist 

@annestine

Let me know if you’d like to be added.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

“don’t do that. don’t shut me out.” + Jupeter

I wrote this for @spiky-lesbian because she’s had a rough week so here’s some angst babe, go figure 

----------

“I’m getting too old for this.”

Juno was pretty sure PIs were supposed to think that sort of thing when they were doing something cool and dangerous, like leaping the gap between the cars of a moving train or ducking behind crates at a harbour to avoid laser fire.

Rather than crawling on their stomachs to get their pet sewer rabbit’s favourite ball out from behind the sofa. But hey, it was his day off.

Then again, Small Fry did look delighted when he straightened back up with a loud groan and the cracking of some vertebrae, whiffling her nose and hopping excitedly, shaking the floorboards of their little apartment. Smiling fondly, Juno threw the ball off down the hallway so she could chase it, squeaking happily.

“Next time that happens I’m not getting it out for you! You can go make goo goo eyes at your daddy for a change,” he called after her, brushing dust from his curls and his shirt. But the smile didn’t fade from his face, even after she had rounded the corner to go and cause mischief somewhere else. Anyone who said keeping a massive sewer rabbit in a modest Hyperion apartment was a bad idea was just too afraid of cleaning up the occasional broken lamp or gnaw marks on the walls.

He was about to straighten back up and go back to the book he’d been reading, he got so little time to do things like that these days but his husband was still at work, the boys were asleep and Bianca was happily playing in her room, giving him a rare hour or two to himself that he didn’t want to waste. He was mildly tempted to crack the lock on the drawer where Nureyev stowed away any case files he brought home so he couldn’t continue working himself ragged outside of his own office but, contrary to the size of the lock and the dedication with which his husband hid the key, he really was getting better at giving himself time off.

After all, it had been a hell of a long time since work was the only thing he had to keep him going.

He was about to do that when something else behind the sofa caught his eye, something that wasn’t just a toy of Bee Bee’s that she’d forgotten or one of Small Fry’s hordes of left socks that she liked to build nests out of. He was about to sigh and mutter something about the wonders of having three kids being that you’d find trash in the weirdest places but something wary ran its way down his spine. Something that was maybe instinct, maybe his detective brain putting pieces together and proving yet again that the years spent theoretically on the other side of law and order hadn’t dampened his skills.

Whatever it was, it made him reach out, once again feeling the twinge in the base of his spine, using his hip to nudge the couch further out so he could snag it and bring it out.

It was a small bag, something designed to be inconspicuously held at the waist or over the shoulder, dark in colour so it wouldn’t catch the eye. Juno frowned, the wariness growing stronger as he sat on the couch and opened it up.

He recognised the precision and fastidiousness immediately, like it was rolling off it in waves like too much perfume. It was in the way everything was crammed in so tight there wasn’t a spare inch of space, everything chosen for its shape and size so it would go in seamlessly like a game of tetris. It was in the items themselves, every possible scenario accounted for; dried rations, iodine pills to purify water, vouchers for shuttle tickets that would take you anywhere in the galaxy, tightly rolled stacks of genuine honest to god Earth currency to take you even further than that, no questions asked, clothes folded so tightly they looked like napkins at first. And, in an even more closely concealed pocket on the inside seam, fake documents, fake IDs, fake cards loaded up with fake creds.

And a knife. If Juno had been entertaining any doubts, any lingering threads of uncertainty, then seeing his tired reflection in that razor edge snipped them neatly away.

He sighed, long and low, filing through the emotions rising in his chest, sending away any that he knew weren’t helpful or were just offshoots of his anxiety, counting backwards from ten like Buddy had shown him until all the messiness sorted itself out.

He didn’t pick his book back up. He watched the clock and waited for his husband to come home.

Nureyev really enjoyed working at the salon. He kept waiting, expecting to get bored or frustrated with it all, but it hadn’t happened yet. He just laughed at the conversations with his colleagues more and more, got more familiar with the smell of hairspray on his clothes and felt a small spark of pride at the ache in his ankles at the end of a long day.

It was enough to make him feel something approaching hope.

He slid off his shoes, not wanting to track any dust from outside into the apartment. Living on Mars had meant needing to get used to the fine red silt clinging to his soles every day and turning up in the most inconvenient places, no matter how careful he tried to be. Juno, the Aurinkos and Rita barely even seemed to notice it. Nureyev assumed that came from growing up with the stuff.

The apartment was surprisingly quiet, enough that he was already getting ideas before he walked into the living room and saw his wife sitting on the sofa.

“What exactly have you done with our children, my love?” he grinned, “Bought us some alone time?”

Juno started a little at his voice, even though he should have heard him come in, the door closing, his keys rattling into the bowl. And when his eye lifted and met Nureyev’s, it was immediately clear that his ideas had been far off the mark.

“Yeah, Rita has them,” Juno’s voice was even, not full of scowls and snarls as usual, not in any way a ‘we’re in serious trouble’ voice but Nureyev’s veins still flooded with adrenaline as he rooted to the spot, a discordant clashing in his ears, “I did want to have some time with just you and me.”

“And yet you’re still dressed?” Nureyev was a little impressed with himself, how his tone came out still perfectly light and joking, like he wasn’t completely gripped by panic and his brain wasn’t scribbling blue prints behind his eyes.

It would seem hairdressing hadn’t lost him all of his skills.

“Babe, listen,” Juno sat forward, eye gentle, “Just come and sit with me, okay? Nothing’s wrong, nothing bad has happened or anything like that. I just want to talk.”

Nureyev frowned. Maybe he had lost his skills a little. Or maybe they’d just never worked on Juno.

But he did sit, stiffly, still braced for something awful in spite of his wife’s reassurance. And when Juno wordlessly produced one of his getaway bags and set it on the coffee table between them, he was ready to run.

But Juno didn’t let the moment build, he didn’t keep him hanging. He simply sighed and reached across the gap between them to take his hand.

“Peter, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Nureyev looked up, certain he must have misheard.

But Juno’s expression was firmly set in penance, mouth turned down, brow fallen across his eye which was soft and sad, “I never once asked you if you were struggling to adjust to the way our lives are now. I never thought to check in with you. I let you down in that and I’m sorry.”

“I...what?” Nureyev was well aware he was falling short of his usual articulation but no more words were coming in to fill the blank gap in his mind, “You’re not...you’re not upset with me?”

Juno frowned a little, shaking his head, “No. No, why would I be?”

“Because…” Laughter, of all things, raw edged and disbelieving bubbled up in his chest, “Because the only thing to take from this is that I’m insane or I was going to leave you?”

“Are either of those things why you’ve got these bags?” Juno asked evenly.

Nureyev winced, “You found the others?”

“No but I know you enough to assume.”

Nureyev took a shaky breath, “I’m not leaving you. And...and I don’t know whether I’m insane or not, honestly.”

The sadness in Juno's eye deepened and he squeezed his husband’s hand, “I don’t think you are but we need to talk about this. What exactly were you trying to prepare for with these?”

“I...I don’t know…” Nureyev didn’t like this one bit, this reversal of their usual roles, Juno being so calm and collected and even while he sat here struggling to leash his emotions, “Nothing! I...I wasn’t…”

Juno exhaled, something cracking through his calm, “Don’t do that. Nureyev, please, don’t shut me out. That’s the one thing I need you not to do right now.”

Nureyev felt his throat close and he couldn’t have said anything if his life depended on it. He didn’t want to shut his wife out, he really didn’t, but it was so hard to unlearn something that had been your first line of defence since childhood.

But if there was anyone who understood that, it was Juno.

“Listen, Nureyev, there’s no answer you can give me that will make me angry with you or upset me. I just want you to feel safe here with me and with the kids and...finding this, it’s just made me worry that you don’t?”

Nureyev forced his lungs to pull in air and turn it into words, determined to not be the man who had shut Juno out for years, the man who had packed those bags.

“I do feel safe here, I am happy here,” he promised, feeling the truth of it and drawing strength from that, “It’s just been so long since I stayed in one place, since...since I could feel safe. And sometimes it feels like another cover I’m wearing for a little while, like something’s going to change and I’ll have to run again. And I guess I just wanted to prepare for that, even if it isn’t what I want. Even if I’m praying it never happens, I just can’t let myself be unprepared. It’s not how I was raised. And having those bags...I can breathe a little easier. I can settle into this more because even if the absolute worst thing happens, I’ll survive.”

Juno nodded slowly, eye never leaving his husband’s face, “Nureyev, we both knew this was going to be a change. And change is hard, even if it’s for the better. And if this helps you settle down, I’m fine with that.”

“But I’m not,” Nureyev croaked, wanting to wipe his eyes so the tears there didn’t fall but also not wanting to let go of Juno’s hand, “I don’t want to live my life like it’s not mine. This isn’t a cover, it’s my family and my home and I want to feel like that.”

Juno squeezed his fingers, “This is yours, Nureyev. I’m your wife and they’re our kids and this is our home. No one is taking any of this from us, I promise. And if you need me to remind you of that, I will, every single damn day for the rest of our lives if that's what you need. And it fucking sucks that everything you’ve lived up until now is telling you different.”

“Yeah,” Nureyev mumbled, the tears falling and dripping off his nose now but they hit Juno’s hands before his own and he didn’t flinch, “It does.”

“Come here…” Juno murmured, pulling him close, wrapping his arms around him as their bodies fit themselves together, “You can cry, it’s okay.”

Nureyev did. Because he believed Juno when he told him it was.

They spent the rest of their rare evening alone pulling out all of the getaway bags Nureyev had stowed over the first week of their retirement from the Carte Blanche, all of the stockpiles of food as well, everything he’d hidden underneath their new life with Mag’s voice and the voice of a hungry child guiding his hands. They didn’t get rid of it, he wasn’t ready for that yet, but it went into a box under their bed instead.

And Juno still told him he was proud of him.

Nureyev thought there was always going to be that part of him that had Mag’s rules in it’s mind and a constant hunger in its belly. All he could ever do was fold it up as small as he could make it and find space for it in the back of his brain.

But with Juno’s arm around him and red dust on the soles of his shoes, that felt easier than it ever had before.

[dragonstoravens]

Babylon Vol. 1: Pandora’s Box, Brotherly Interlude

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(We’re back!!! And OH BOY HERE WE GO!!!! We’re only a few chapters from posting all of book 1 now, just two more updates after this one. I hope you enjoy this ~romantically spicy~ update!)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @charlottedotexe @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites @viawrites-andacts

19. Pandora’s Box

    Something felt off.

    It wasn’t the same sort of off that came with glowering at entitled individuals to get them to give Trinity some space or the kind that came with feeling like she was in danger. No, it wasn’t unpleasant like that. It was a gentle, floaty sort of feeling, something sort of like fondness that she just couldn’t put her finger on because she wasn’t quite sure she’d felt it before. Azure looked up at her friend, that feeling in the back of her mind trying to present itself but lacking the vocabulary and clarity to make any headway. He was talking to her, saying something in that soft voice he used when he didn’t want anyone else to hear them or he was trying to reassure her that she had no need to be nervous. It was such a soothing tone, she realized with a small start, that she hadn’t even been paying attention to what he was actually saying. Her cheeks flared red and she coughed a little, looking guilty. 

    “Sorry, I didn’t hear that. The music’s a little loud, what did you say?”

    “I said, dinner’s over. Care for a dance?”

    Trinity was standing next to her, his hand out in offering. He was always so polite, even after months of… whatever this was, asking before each dance as if she was going to say no and sit in awkward silence while the other couples swirled around them. It was like some sappy romance novel she’d devoured growing up-- the handsome prince asking “may I have this dance,” taking the princess’ arm, pulling out her chair for her… and she had to admit Trinity looked the part, in his perfectly tailored waistcoat. For some reason, Crim had gone strangely old-fashioned for tonight’s style-- Trinity even looked a bit like the illustrations in those old books, with his long coat and silver embroidery and hair shining a soft gold in the false candlelight dancing from wall sconces scattered about the hall. He smiled at her, hand still outstretched, something oddly… hopeful, in his expression. Or was she imagining it? She’d never turned down a dance with him before, there was really nothing to hope for.

    “Right, of course. I’d love to.” She smiled up at him, crooked and even a little bashful, and set her work-toughened hand in his larger, softer one. He helped her up out of her seat and she tried to keep her internal voice down as she quelled whatever this feeling was in her stomach that had begun the moment their hands touched. She stepped carefully with him out to the dance floor, goosebumps covering her skin as he placed his hand on her waist. Something strange was happening, and it was really weirding her out. Maybe the food was bad? That was doubtful, someone’s head would be on a pike if any of the people at this event even thought for a minute the food wasn’t made properly. That took out drinking too, because she hadn’t had anything that wasn’t water today due to some maintenance she had coming up soon. The mystery deepened, layers of what it couldn’t be peeling away.

She’d been staring at his jawline for a full thirty seconds now, and she had been flushed red nearly the last forty-five minutes they’d been here. She was beginning to look feverish. As they began the lazy, spinning journey across the ballroom they’d taken so many times before, he leaned towards her, his lips centimeters from the curve of her ear. His breath was warm, ghosting across her cheek as he whispered.

    “You alright?”

    She shivered and nearly stopped breathing, her head a jumbled mess and eyes wide. Was she alright? She had no idea. She wasn’t dying, so she was probably alright. Her head bobbed up and down and she looked in his eyes, deep and green and pretty. Trinity’s eyes had always been pretty, she’d known that, but she didn’t remember them being so pretty. Maybe it was the candlelight? In the back of her mind, the single brain cell that WASN’T occupied with trying to figure out when his eyes had gotten so green reminded the rest that he’d asked her a question, and nodding alone wasn’t really going to cut it for an answer. She looked startled.

    “Oh yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a little warm, that’s all.” She’d always been a terrible liar, but she hoped against all hope he’d just take it at face value, just this once. She cast her eyes around the room, hoping to find something to talk about that wasn’t herself. Her eyes fell upon a couple in a dark corner, arms wrapped around each other and swaying off beat, smiling ear to ear and conversing quietly. She smiled and motioned with her head. “They look happy, ain’t that out of place here.”

    He followed her gaze, those eyes like a searchlight into her soul leaving her for a moment. His lips curled gently, a soft smile most people here wouldn’t believe was an expression in his repertoire. Sometimes even she couldn’t believe she got to see it. “I’m glad for them. You have to find happiness where it comes, in this kind of life, and too many of us forget how.”

    She nodded and smiled, humming her agreement as she looked back up at him. Then, a question surfaced, brought on by a conversation they’d had in a hallway a few months prior and the memory of a sad look in his eyes. Her brows knit together, and for a moment she was very concerned. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper as her heart pounded. “...Are you happy?” 

    Trinity turned his gaze on her once more, his face distant as he seemed to consider. “Right now?” Those eyes came back into focus, and his smile once again lit up their tiny corner of the world. “Yes, I’d say I am.”

    A wave of relief washed over her to see him smile, and then a memory tickled at the back of her mind. She was ten, and her mother was signing divorce papers.

    “Mama,” She asked from her seat across the table, a pencil in hand, “What is love anyway? How are you supposed to know how it feels?”

    Her mother had sighed and turned over a page, looking up at her with sorrowful eyes. “Mija, love is what you call it when there’s nothing more important to you than knowing someone is happy.”

    A second wave, this one of realization, hit her like a train. All Trinity heard in their shared comm was a quiet little “...oh”, before her left foot tried to step where her right foot already was. Her ankle twisted out from beneath her, sending her nearly crashing to the floor.

    Before she could hit the ground, or really before it was even obvious she was falling, Trinity’s strong arms around her shifted and tightened. Suddenly, her hand was clasped in his, the other firmly on the small of her back, arched gracefully in a way she wouldn’t have thought she was capable of. He was holding her in a perfect dip, as if it had all been intentional. Of course, she would realize all of that later. For now, time was lost to the two of them, lost as they seemed to be in each other’s eyes. 

    Time outside their tiny bubble ticked on, of course, the sudden change noted by curious eyes all around the ballroom. Couples shifted in their dance steps, eyes met eyes in conspiratorial glances-- were they about to see a proposal tonight? Others couldn’t help but falter in shock at this never before seen side of Trinity Jericho, known to be icy on the best of days. How many of them, or their children, had he turned down only to be transformed into the sort of man who romantically dipped women on the dance floor by one brash southerner? Two pairs of eyes, on opposite sides of the room, turned away in unified frustration and disappointment. Perhaps it was too late for them-- each of the people they’d been longing for at a distance seemed now even farther away.

    But then the moment had passed, barely an instant to the two who had been locked within it, and Trinity smoothly swung Azure back up into his arms. Their steps resumed. Unsurprisingly, he seemed to have recovered from their little mishap more easily than she.

    “And here I thought we were past you tripping over your own feet,” he murmured, thinly veiled amusement evident in his tone. She tried and failed to come up with something witty to say back, her head so clearly somewhere far away from where they were. Her cheeks darkened, the rosy hue stretching to her ears and shoulders, and she wouldn’t, couldn’t hold his gaze. 

    “Sorry, I was thinkin’ about somethin’ else.”

    Whatever it was, he hadn’t noticed it in the comms. Either she’d gotten better at keeping thoughts to herself, or he’d been a little distracted too. No further explanation seemed forthcoming, though, and the last thing he wanted was to push her when she already seemed a little… off. He nodded, allowing her to brush the topic aside, and pulled her close as the music shifted into something slow and sweet. Very close. After all, he wouldn’t want her to trip again.

20. Brotherly Interlude

    Three hours, some cybernetic tinkering, and three cups of black coffee later, Azure finally felt like her heart wasn’t about to leap out of her throat, but now it was instead hanging low in the pit of her stomach. Once the delighted high of her realization faded, the guilt had set in. It felt wrong to care for Trinity, something forbidden and foreign stripping the joyous feeling down to something upsetting. The entire purpose of her presence at these stupid events had been to keep potential suitors and their pushy families out of his hair. It felt like a violation of his trust, to develop these feelings he was avoiding from others, and she had worked so hard to gain that trust in the first place. She cared about him, about his well being and his happiness, and she couldn’t see how not only making him reject her, but making him then go to these things alone again to avoid her was in any way helpful. He’d be back at square one, but with the added issue of the only person he could ask for help now being part of the problem. Sure, he’d told her the first time that it only had to be a one time thing, but then she’d asked to keep going, and now this looked like the world’s worst ulterior motive to deny other women access to him so she could isolate him and keep him all to herself. It was a horrible concept, and she hated herself for even bringing the possibility to light.

    And she wasn’t even a good match for him, all number crunching and heavy boots. He deserved someone light on their feet and pretty and kind, so kind, just like he was.

    She was sipping at the beginnings of mug number four and wondering how she’d ended up in this mess and how the hell she was going to get out of it when her brother, shirtless and with a fresh coat of blue developing in his hair, entered the room. Her shoulders stiffened and then purposefully slumped, trying to look normal. Crimson tossed her what she found out was a scone once she’d mindlessly taken a bite. 

    “Put a shirt on, dumbass.”

    “Aw get a grip, where am I gonna be comfortably shirtless if not with family?”

    “Weirdo.”

    “Nah, you.”

    She smiled mechanically and dipped the sandy dry baked good in her cup. Sweet, with a little bitterness from the coffee. Crim sat himself on the edge of her workbench table, thoughtfully and carefully dropping every crumb onto her workspace. He looked at her with a measured gaze that she knew was trying to tell her something that she just didn’t want to listen to right now. He cleared his throat.

    “How’d your date go?”

    “Wasn’t a date. Just a favor.” It was a lot harder to hide the strain in her voice that she couldn’t get a lid on when it was her brother she was talking to. She didn’t want to want it to be a date, it’s messy and that meant it wasn’t going to be easy to solve and she hated things that weren’t easy to solve. Except she did want it to be a date. Really badly, actually. Which again, was the problem in the first place. She pulled on a wrench a little too hard and it went flying across the lab. Crim ducked and winced.

    “The eightieth favor, and ya came back redder’n a summer sunset.” Her beloved brother ignored it, like the loving family member he was. Look at him, pressing the initial issue. She wondered if she was like this to him when he got weird and locked himself in his little studio to do mountains of paperwork alone in between four minute naps and four AM meals with Perry. Maybe she should be nicer to him. He was all she had at the end of the day after all, it was just such a shame he was such a little shit. She brushed a few crumbs off her table.

    “Listen, ain’t my fault the rich and influential like blowin’ money just to gossip like they could at a knittin’ circle.”

    “You don’t have to go, you know. I know you hate these things, and any man worth his salt would tell ya you’re free to stay home.” He took another bite of his scone and avoided her eyes, like he knew the contact would make her jumpy and defensive. He was right of course, about men and the eye contact, but then she was already jumpy and defensive, so what was he doing other than mitigating damage like he always did for her. What a good twin.

    She hesitated a moment before responding. She definitely did hate the events, with the overdone glamour and the careful answers to thinly veiled questions about motive and expertise. It was like playing a game no one would tell her all the rules of. She was horrible at games, and she was even worse at talking to people when she knew they wanted to rip her apart. But she didn’t really have to, Trinity had her back, every step she took.

    “I know, but he’s alright, and he needs my help.”

    Her brother shifted to stop leaning on her desk and grabbed the small hand broom she kept nearby to start sweeping bits of scone off her table. She realized with disgust that he’d just been eating it dry. She held out her mug. He leveled her with a look as he sipped it. 

    “Your taste in hot beverages needs help.”

    “Not my fault you need forty packets of sugar minimum to power your ability to breathe.”

    For the first time in longer than she’d want to admit, she watched her brother laugh and try to force down some hot bean water in his least favorite form.

    “Touché.”

    “Backwater hick, speak Terran-English like you were meant to.” She smiled as she took her mug back and dunked into it one more time. She had hoped maybe the joke would change the subject, but damn if stubbornness didn’t run deep in the family. Crimson skipped right back to the topic originally at hand.

    “Azzy, you know that it’s a little outta character for you to keep doin’ somethin’ you don’t like when you don’t have to. What’s goin’ on? He blackmailin’ you? The dick’s bomb and you don’t wanna share, what is it?” He threw the joke in to keep the mood light, and she knew that, but she choked a little on her oversaturated scone anyway. Her brother, ever observant, laughed again, and she’d be happy to see him happy if it wasn’t at her expense. “Oh Azure, you dun caught the bug, huh?” He was still laughing as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and decided it was best to take his leave while he still had the last word. “Good luck with that, Kari. You’ll need it with a man like that, I’m sure.”

    She couldn’t formulate a response in time, so she drained the rest of her coffee and returned to her work, ears burning.