#i miss her giant parka days

[curryplss]

smol

[firstofficerwiggles]

Dress Code, Part 2

Link to Part 1, Part 3 (T rated), Part 3 (M rated)

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Some swearing, Jealous!Din, sexy dancing, touching

Summary: You continue to challenge Din about what you choose to wear. Pretty fluffy overall. Plans for a Part 3.

Word Count: ~4200

Author’s Note: I am not good at making up planet names so I will admit to totally stealing these. Eridani is the name of a real star and Alastria and Chantil are both from Star Trek. Also again a little hint of Ed Sheeran in the dancing scene.

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“Are you serious? More snow?” Your voice is incredulous as you fly over the frosted winter landscape of the planet Alastria. It’s been two weeks since you won your wager against the Mandalorian and you haven’t had any opportunity to wear anything that he could consider even remotely revealing. First he took you to Hoth, and although you and the child had a great time playing in the snow, you spent the whole time covered in sweaters and a giant parka. You had laughed it off though, enjoying his cleverness at finding a way to circumvent your win. But then, he had dragged you to Eridani and Chantil each one colder than the next. Plus to add to his diabolical plan, he has purposely been keeping the Razor Crest’s internal temperature low in order to ‘save on fuel’ so you can’t even wear your lighter clothes on board. You’ve been so covered up you might as well be wearing your own suit of beskar.

You suppose it hasn’t been all that bad though, you begrudgingly admit to yourself. The three of you have been spending more time together as you’ve been traveling. Lately it seems like Din always finds a way to be around you and the child. In the past he’s preferred his pilot’s seat while flying even with the autopilot engaged, but now he seems to find little projects to do wherever you are. Like the evening you were cuddled up with the baby telling him various fairy tales and Din had sat near you both spending the whole time cleaning the same blaster. Or when you were baking cookies, and he had decided to reorganize some supplies that happened to be right next to where you were working. Finally, the other day he had even thrown off the pretense of being busy and joined in and helped you and the child build a blanket fort in the hull. As the baby napped on a pile of pillows inside the fort, Din had stayed with you in there, just resting for once while you both had the chance.

With all of this closeness, you had hoped there might be some movement on the romantic front between the two of you, but there hasn’t been anything definitive in that area. You must have replayed him calling you ‘sweetheart’ a million times in your head, but he hasn’t said anything like that again. You’ve tried to show him how interested you are, wearing your necklace everyday so he can see it, smiling at him as much as possible, teasing him, and going so far as to touch him with little brushes of your hand, a pat on the shoulder, or even a squeeze of his arm whenever you get the opportunity. He seems receptive enough to your flirting, yet he’s given you so little response you wonder if he’s realized what you’re trying to do.

The Mandalorian’s voice brings you out of your musing, “I thought we could visit my old mentor, Davi. His town might be in the mountains, but it’s nice, I think you’ll like it, despite the cold.” He smirks a little under his helmet. He knows he should probably feel a bit guilty at the tour of icy worlds he’s been giving you, but honestly, he’s been enjoying getting under your skin each time you land on another freezing planet and he hears you sigh over having to bundle up again. He should probably admit to himself that he does miss seeing your dresses, but you look cute even under all those layers. Plus he was right, your necklace looks good with all of those sweaters and heavy knits you’ve been forced to wear.

“Who is Davi?” you ask, curious to know more about Din’s past.

“He sponsored me when I first joined the guild. I was his apprentice for two years before I starting hunting my own bounties.” Din tells you. “He’s retired now, and he lives with his niece, Isa. I think you’ll like them both.”

Even with the snow and ice, you can see that Davi and Isa’s town is charming, and you enjoy the quaint buildings with their pretty trim. It reminds you of the gingerbread houses you used to make as a child in the winter. The majestic mountains make for a stunning backdrop too and you are glad that Din brought you here. He notices the happy light in your eyes as he says, “I knew you’d like it here,” rather smugly.

“Yes, yes, you know everything,” you reply, rolling your eyes only slightly at him.

You arrive at a brightly lit home that oozes warmth and coziness from its frosty windows, and when Davi throws open the door, you receive a cordial welcome that makes you feel like he is your old friend too. Davi is thrilled to see Din and even more delighted to meet you and the baby. Even though Din has introduced you as his friend, Davi teases the Mandalorian about finally meeting his lovely family. Davi’s niece, Isa is also quite pleased to meet you and she even hugs you in greeting. She’s a pretty young woman in her early 20s with bright eyes and a cheerful smile.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she tells you excitedly, “I thought I was in for another ‘guy’s visit’ having to hear all of their old hunting tales again.”

“Oh come on, Isa, you love that story about the crazy Gungan we had to chase through the swamp,” Davi reminds her with a laugh.

“Sure, maybe the first 100 times I heard it,” Isa retorts. “I’m looking forward to some quality girl time instead.”

“That sounds great,” you tell her. You have been living in a heavily testosterone-laden climate and it has been forever since you’ve had the opportunity to hang out with another woman and just do ‘girl’ things. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’d love to go shopping and maybe get our hair styled too?” She suggests, “There’s this great party tonight and I wanna look fabulous!”

“Count me in!” you reply enthusiastically. You look over at Din for a moment though, hoping he’s not going to insist that he needs to accompany you shopping like he usually does. But he’s obviously comfortable here and he just gives you a small nod. “Let’s go now.”

Isa notices your exchange with interest, but doesn’t say anything, yet. She can’t wait to get you alone though and grill you all about your relationship with the mysterious warrior. You head back out into the snowy streets with Isa chatting excitedly about the shops and the fantastic salon that she’ll be taking you to. You arrive at a store with many party dresses, they’re beautiful but most of them are a bit risqué too. You’re just starting to look when Isa interrupts you with “Ok, spill, I want to hear all about you and Mando.”

“There’s not much to tell, I’m the nanny to his foundling.” You try to tell her, but your cheeks flush and she knows there’s more.

“Oh c’mon, I can tell you’re not ‘just-the-nanny’,” she laughs lightly. “He’s never ever brought a woman to meet Davi before.”

“Well, a few weeks ago I thought there was more starting to happen between the two of us,” you say and then tell her about the necklace and your silly wager. “I really thought that was leading to something…” you trail off and shrug, “but I guess not?”

“What?!? There is definitely something happening,” Isa asserts. “That was super romantic of him to buy you that necklace, and he clearly gets jealous of other men paying attention to you. He likes you.” She says it like it’s a fact. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Maker, I do, so much, probably too much,” you admit to Isa. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known. I know he seems rough and dangerous, and he can be, but he is also very kind, respectful, and considerate. You should see how gentle and soft he can be with the child. I don’t even care that I’ve never seen his face.”

“Your whole face lights up when you talk about him,” Isa is beaming at you. “I think you need to tell him how much you care.”

“But if he doesn’t feel the same way, it will just make everything awkward and weird.” You want to believe Isa, that Mando reciprocates your feelings, but the alternative scares you too much.

“He feels the same way.” She is confident about that. “But, maybe you could just give him a little push, feel him out more,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Let’s find you a killer dress and make sure he takes you to this party tonight.” Isa turns back to the dresses pulling out several that are very sexy. “It’s in the hot springs caverns and it’s warm and steamy in there all the time,” Isa explains.

“Wait, so no bundling up?” you ask hopefully.

“Just for the walk there, but once we’re inside you’ll be plenty warm. So, we’re going find you something that shows plenty of skin,” Isa declares.

Gathering a pile of garments, Isa pulls you to the dressing rooms and then you both try on several looks that range from seductive to downright lascivious. She is partial to an electric blue dress that is tight on her figure and has several cutouts exposing various sections of her skin. The dress you find is surprise, surprise, silver, in a halter style. The bodice is tight fitting with a deep vee that ends just at the top of your stomach before flaring out into a flirty mini skirt looking like molten metal is pouring off of your hips. Your back is almost totally bare save for two delicate straps that cross over one another to hold the bodice in place. It is a lot more skin than you normally show, but you have to admit you look great. Light winks off of your necklace and you smile to yourself thinking about how your Mandalorian might react to seeing you like this.

“That’s the one!” Isa announces handing you a pair of strappy stilettos to try on with the dress. They are the perfect final touch. The rest of your time with Isa passes quickly in a happy haze of hair styling and gossip. She tells you about her friends and the guy she wants to impress. You’re really looking forward to tonight, but you’re worried, “How are we going to convince Mando to go to this party?” you wonder to Isa, “It’s not really his thing.”

“Leave everything to me.” Isa sounds like she is up for the challenge.

You and Isa return to her home giggling cheerfully about your big plans for the evening. Din loves seeing you so happy, his only regret is that you can’t have more days like this one. He had a long talk with Davi about all that has happened since he first found the child and the dangerous path it has thrust all three of you on. Fortunately for Din, his old mentor is more tactful than his niece merely providing a friendly ear as Din lists all of his concerns for your life with him. Davi can tell that Din cares for you more than he is admitting, but he doesn’t push the point. Instead, he calmly suggests that you appear to be able to meet the trials of living with a bounty hunter, otherwise you probably would have left by now. Din nodded in agreement to that, making Davi smile knowingly to himself.

As you sit down to dinner with everyone, Isa chats animatedly about your fun day together and suggests that you prolong your visit by a few days. Din, who ate his own meal in private beforehand, seems amenable to the idea, this town is fairly remote and only Greef Karga remembers Mando’s connection to Davi. As Isa talks, she manages to casually bring up the party to her uncle. Din is only half-listening as he is focused on the baby actually eating his food and not playing with it, until Isa says, “And you don’t have to worry about our safety, Uncle, because Mando will be there to watch over us!”

“Wait, what are you saying?” Din’s head snaps up.

“I think it’s a great idea!” Davi replies, delighted, “The ladies are all excited for you to take them to that party in the caverns tonight.”

“A party?” Din sounds like you are going to drag him to a deadly ambush. Except he feels more confident that he can handle the deadly ambush.

“Oh come on, you’re still a young man, you’ll have a wonderful time with these beautiful women. And I can take care of the little one,” Davi urges him, “after all he loves his Uncle Davi.” Davi tickles the child under the chin and receives a joyful coo in return.

“Please, Mando,” you give him your most hopeful look, “I promise we’ll have fun.”

Din sighs, but he knows he can’t say no when you’re looking at him like that, he’s not made of stone. “Alright.”

“Great! We’ll go get dressed!” Isa springs into action pulling you with her. You both manage to get ready in record time knowing that you don’t want to give Din any opportunity to back out on your plans. Before you leave her room though, both you and Isa make sure your cloaks are completely covering your outfits for the night. You caution Isa that if Din has even one inkling of what you have on, you won’t be going anywhere. You are thankful your cloak is so long that only the toes of your shoes peek out.

Isa leads you out of town towards the caverns and you see other young people heading in your direction. She discreetly stays ahead of you and Din the whole time under the guise of being the leader but mostly so you two are walking side by side. The new shoes are higher than anything you’ve worn for a while so you lean in and take Din’s arm. He seems to take this as perfectly natural and helps steady you on your feet. When you arrive at the caverns, balmy air hits you and you breathe it in welcoming the warmth. Isa ushers you in and leads you to a place where you can leave your cloaks. You can’t resist being a bit dramatic now that your big moment is here and you let your cloak drop from your shoulders in one fluid motion before handing it over. Then you do a small twirl to let the Mandalorian get a good look at you.

Din’s mouth goes completely dry and he feels like his heart skips several beats as he takes you in. He is thankful that his helmet hides his expression because there is no way he could hide the raw desire he is feeling right now. You look more gorgeous than he could have imagined. The silvery dress makes your curves sparkle alluringly and all he can think about is running his hands all over the silky looking material and then moving on to all of your soft exposed skin. Plus the color of the dress perfectly matches his armor, making it look like you belong with him. He feels as if all of the blood in his body is rushing to one sensitive spot and it’s making him slightly lightheaded. You are smiling at him expectantly, but he has forgotten how to speak. He has to clear his throat twice before he can ground out, “What is that?”

Ok, that wasn’t what you expected him to say. “It’s my new dress,” you retort, a little exasperated.

“That is not a dress. That is pieces of fabric pretending to be a dress.” He sounds frustrated and like he is trying to control himself.

“Hey, you remember our deal, you can’t say anything critical about my clothing.” You give him a pointed look.

“You look like walking sex.” He hisses at you.

“Well, I am going to take that as a compliment.” You flip your hair over your shoulder and huff off in the direction of Isa and a group of friends she has found. If Mando wants to be a fuddy-duddy all night, you’re going to let him. Isa is fun and you’re sure her friends will be too. You put your smile back on and square your shoulders in determination as you stride over towards them.

The caverns have been lit with several colorful lights which bounce off of the icy walls and the pools of hot steaming water. There’s a band playing music with a strong beat, a lively dance floor, and several servers circulating with fancy drinks. Isa cheerfully introduces you to her friends, one of whom is a handsome man with golden brown hair and a charming smile, named Guy. He seems to be a bit of a scoundrel, but when he voices how beautiful you are, you can’t help but be flattered. He’s telling you about his job as a pilot for a transport ship, trying to impress you with tales about near misses with ex-Imperials, when he notices the Mandalorian who is not-so-subtly invading your personal space.

Din had watched you walk away, a bit mesmerized by your swinging hips. Of course, by the time he gets his feet moving in your direction, some asshole is already flirting with you. He sees the man flash you a toothy smile and he even has the audacity to lean in and pick up your necklace, Din’s necklace, under the guise of admiring it, all the while staring blatantly at your breasts. Din hears his pulse roaring in his ears as he comes to loom over you and glare at this jerk.

“Hi, Mando,” you say a little sarcasm in your voice at the greeting, “meet Isa’s friend, Guy.”

“Guy?” Mando drawls out incredulously.

“Hey man, nice to meet you,” Guy is affable. “Didn’t catch your name?”

Mando just stares at him and then says, “Seriously, your name is Guy?”

“Guy was just telling me about making the Kuiper run in under 20 parsecs,” you break into the frosty exchange.

“Impossible,” is all Mando says drily.

“No, really,” Guy insists, “I managed to do it by skimming by a black hole.”

“It’s impossible,” Mando says again.

“Maybe you and Guy can trade piloting tips?” you say, adding a small chuckle to ease the tension.

“Not fucking interested.” Mando is being downright rude to him. You’ve never known him to act this way to someone who wasn’t a threat. Luckily, Isa comes to your rescue as she brings her friend Lisbeth over to meet Mando. He seems to come back to himself a bit and is polite as he greets Isa’s friend.

“Are you two together?” Guy questions you nodding his head in Din’s direction.

“Not like that,” you reply, “we’re just friends.” But you say it as if you don’t really believe it.

“You sure?” Guy smiles shrewdly at you.

“Well, he’s never said otherwise,” you conclude with a small shrug.

“In that case, how would you like to dance with me?” Guy holds out his hand to you and gives you a wink. You can’t help but glance back at Mando for a moment, but then turn your gaze back to Guy and say yes. You don’t imagine that Din will ask you to dance anyway as he seems determined to be a grump tonight, plus you’re pretty certain he doesn’t know how to dance.

Guy leads you to the crowded floor and you begin moving to the beat of the heart-pumping music. At first you’re just dancing next to Guy but then he starts closing the distance between you two and eventually puts his hands on your hips. He pulls you in a little closer to him but then suddenly he’s gone, being shoved away roughly by a beskar-clad arm.

“If you’re going to dance, you’re going to dance with me.” Mando tells you possessively. His hands replacing Guy’s on your hips, pulling you in close to him.

“Mando!” you squeak out in surprise at his abrupt appearance. “Is he ok?” You turn your head to look for Guy, embarrassed that Din has so rudely dismissed him.

“I don’t give a damn,” Din tells you as he reaches up and turns your chin so that you are looking back at him. Ironically, the lead singer of the band is belting out a warning to a woman not to fuck with his love. You face flushes as you look into the black visor of the helmet.

“I- I didn’t think you’d want to dance,” you stammer out, stunned by his actions.

“You didn’t give me a chance to ask you,” he replies and he begins to direct your hips to sway with his to the music. You move with him in a sultry pattern. You were wrong, Din does know how to dance. You move your arms up to encircle his neck as you let yourself relax into the movements, your bodies syncing together with the beat.

As the music changes a bit, he turns you in his arms and pulls you against him until you are flush with his body. You lean into his chest feeling the cool metal of his cuirass against your bare back and he dips his head down to your ear, and says “I like dancing with you.” His voice seems huskier than normal.

“I do too,” you tell him in reply. You’re feeling bolder now and you roll your hips over his and brush against something hard that is definitely not beskar. He groans deeply and then turns you around again so he can look in your eyes as he asks, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“I think I have some idea,” you say flirtatiously and give him a wink. He pulls you back into him with a growl and guides your body into a move so sensual it makes your head spin. His hands are on your bare back now and even though it’s only the leather of his gloves that touch you, the heat coming off of them is undeniable. You can’t resist telling him, “Your hands feel good on me.” He doesn’t say anything in reply but merely tightens his grip on you and then lets his hands explore more of your back.

You lose track of time as you focus only on the Mandalorian and the way you move together. You’ve both become quieter the more you dance as if you no longer can handle verbally teasing each other and just want to feel. Each song blends into the next, and it’s like you are the only two people in the room. A sonic charge could go off and you wouldn’t even notice. When the lights flicker to signal the end of the party, you’re surprised. It takes you a moment to come back to reality, you feel like you’ve just awoken from the middle of an intoxicating dream and your head is a little dizzy. Fortunately, Din seems more in control, and he guides you towards Isa and the exit. Isa! You completely forgot about her. When you reach her, she gives you a sneaky smile and hands you your cloak. As you take it from her, she leans in and whispers, “I told you so.” Din takes the cloak from your hands and places it around your shoulders covering you back up against the cold. Then he takes your hand in his and threads his fingers through yours as he leads you back out into the dark night. All three of you are quiet as you walk back to Isa’s home. When you arrive, Din tells Isa, “We won’t come in, we’ll just let the child sleep here and come back in the morning.”

“Not too early,” Isa says rather cheekily, “I’m sure you’ll need your rest.”

As you head back to the ship with Din, your stomach flips at the idea of being alone with him all night. You shiver a little in anticipation.

“Are you cold?” he asks, noticing the shiver.

“Only a little,” you tell him, not wanting to give away the real reason.

“Maybe you should be wearing more clothing,” Din says, but there is a teasing tone to his voice now.

You reach the ship and head inside. It’s a little chilly in there but not as bad as you thought it might be. You whisk your cloak off of you again, headless of the cold, wanting Din to see you in the dress again.

“I’ll make you a new deal,” he says, his helmet moving up and down as if he is looking you over. “I’ll take you to some warmer planets and I won’t complain about your clothing, but only if you promise to never wear that dress in public again.”

The dress has served its purpose, better than you could have anticipated. “Alright, it’s a deal,” you tell him with a smile.

“Although,” Din drawls out, “if you want to wear it again when we’re alone together, I’d like that.”

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Thank you for reading! I promise there will be a Part 3 (if I can, I’ll do one T rated and one M rated). Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

@sleepwithacommunist @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @rueblogsthings @mackycat11 @tv-zepeda @remmyswritings @dee-rosemary @boomtownboy @mandosboobiez @hoodjarin @haley7242

[threeletterslife]

On a Cold Summer Day

→ summary: Maybe deciding to leave California to attend uni in New York was the dumbest decision you've ever made. It's fucking freezing here! You don't think you can survive without the beach twenty minutes away from your living space. At least you have a native New Yorker Kim Seokjin to help you adjust. Kinda.

→ pairing/rating: seokjin x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 70% fluff, 30% crack | college!au

→ warnings: profanity, mentions of sex, implied sex, dating apps lol (tinder & bumble)

→ wordcount: 7.2k

cr. 

This is a motherfucking abomination.

They're asking you to come to class on a Monday at 8 in the morning??? What kind of fucking monstrosity was this? You thought college was supposed to be a goodbye to waking up early. Now you have to take your goddamn philo 101 class at the asscrack of dawn (okay, it's not exactly dawn, but still).

It's too early to be discussing Socrates and human ethics and all that head-aching shit. And even worse, it's fucking freezing in New York!

You're what people call the basic SoCal girl. You grew up with palm trees in your backyard. Anything below 80 degrees is enough to make you bring out your winter jackets (which aren't really real jackets either). In fact, your definition of a winter jacket is slipping on a lightweight flannel over your usual tank top.

But now, in New York, damn the weather wasn't kind. You wear a parka to class and when you're waddling about the campus, you look like a giant marshmallow. Honestly, it's a little humiliating.

It hasn't even been a month and you already miss California. God, you miss the sunshine. And also In-N-Out.

The college workload isn't as bad as you anticipated so even after attending your dreaded morning classes, you're left with a sufficient amount of time. You used to spend those extra hours on Tinder, passing left and right on guys with the swipe of your thumb as you drooled over their shirtless profile pictures.

But ever since you met Jungkook—

Ah, Jungkook. He was a very interesting story. How do you start telling this? Hm.

Well, it really started on the first day of college. The moment after you attended orientation, found your dorm, kissed your parents goodbye and said hello to your roommates, you revisited your trust-worthy dating app, Tinder while lounging on your bed. All that professional business on the first day of uni kind of made you horny.

Back in California, you had a few memorable encounters with your Tinder partners that left you blushing and hot-faced for weeks. When your high school besties found out you were moving away from the Golden State to attend NYU, they would not let it go about all the hot NYC men you would be able to, er for the lack of better word choice, bang.

So you were going to listen to them and hook up with a New York guy. And not even twenty seconds into your swiping party on Tinder, you spot him.

His name is Jeon Jungkook. 20. NYU student. Civil Engineering. Hot damn. You had to take a few seconds to stalk his profile before screaming internally and victoriously swiping right. Now you just had to wait until he swipes right on you. If you're lucky, maybe you could get laid tonight.

And lucky you were.

You dressed in a simple outfit (that'd be easy to discard) and met Jungkook at the Shake Shack for a casual date (in which the burgers are not as half as good as the burgers in In-N-Out). After some casual discussion that honestly didn't last too long, he took you back to his rented apartment.

And then you had the worst sex in your life. Not that Jungkook was lacking in the downstairs department, (no, no he was pretty measurable), but apparently he had a roommate that would not fucking shut up for the life of him. It's not a very sexy experience when you hear someone loudly rage quit Minecraft in the room next to you.

But you and Jungkook had both laughed it off. After all, the two of you already really clicked. And on your part, although you didn't quite have the perfect hook up, you found a likable NYC man. You were surely going to see him again.

See him again you did. Jungkook made sure his roommate would be gone this time before the two of you lay down on his couch and began watching some random rom-com. Halfway through, he initiated some making out, which was as perfect as making out could get. Until you muttered something about how "sexy a NYC man is."

Jungkook laughed so hard he almost fell off the couch. The rest of the night was not spent having sex. Instead, the two of you stayed up late talking about your home states, which both happened to be California. You were so excited about meeting another Californian that your horniness completely dissipated.

And from then on, you and Jungkook became close buddies with slight benefits. (You found him to be a better platonic companion than a sexual partner.) Mostly you came to him to rant about New Yorkers, and he would laugh at you, telling you that you would get used to it.

So, that was your story with Jungkook.

Now you're on your way to his apartment with some Shake Shack to-go so the two of you can watch Shark Tank (which you've been dying to see). When you finally reach Jungkook's apartment and knock on his door, to your surprise Jungkook doesn't answer it. Instead, a tall man—a handsome man—stands looking at your rather puzzled face.

He's so unbelievably hot that your breath hitches.

"Hey," the man says, grinning. "JK's girl?"

"I'm single," you blurt out, no doubt making googly eyes at the man in front of you. "I-I brought some Shake Shack," you offer. "Um, Jungkook and I were, like, supposed to hang out..."

"I'm here!" Jungkook's calls from inside the apartment. "Let her in, bitch!"

"Yesterday I was 'motherfucker' and today, I'm 'bitch,' apparently," the Bitch Man says. "I think JK's forgotten my name." When he laughs, you don't know why you feel flustered. "I'm Seokjin," he says, gesturing for you to come into the apartment. "But you can call me Jin. Or any variation. I don't really care. As long as it's not 'bitch.' " Seokjin glares at Jungkook who's snickering in the background.

"O-Okay," you say, stumbling into the apartment and nearly tripping over your own shoes as you place the takeout bag on the kitchen counter.

"Hey, Y/N!" Jungkook says, slapping your back as he greets you merrily as usual. "Long time no see! I have the show on TV already. You ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," you say quickly. "Dude, but like who the fuck is the hottie?" you whisper urgently to your friend. "Like I don't remember you telling me you know someone like that."

"Oh, him?" Jungkook snorts. "That's my roommate."

Your eyes turn wide as you gape open-mouthed at the handsome figure casually lounging on the couch already. "Shut up. He's the fucking Minecraft rage quitter??"

Jungkook laughs. "Yeah. Not so handsome anymore, huh?"

You're still in shock, stuttering to find an answer, but Jungkook laughs at your pathetic attempt, grabbing the Shake Shack bag and dragging you over to the couch.

"Dude, is he like going to hang out with us?" you ask Jungkook in a low whisper, nodding over at Seokjin who was busily using his phone.

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind," Jungkook tells you as he man spreads on the right side of the couch, putting you in the middle of the two men. "His Bumble date canceled on him last minute. So I'm trying to patch up his enormous ego."

"Fuck, of course I don't mind," you hiss at him. "But if you told me earlier, I wouldn't have come here in sweats. Like I thought it was weird that you ordered two burgers, but like I just thought you had a huge appetite today!"

"I think you look hot in sweats."

"Well, thanks." Wait. You freeze. That was definitely not Jungkook's voice. A blush creeps up your cheeks as you turn to your left, only to see Seokjin, gazing at you with friendly eyes and a bright smile. "O-Oh!" you sputter. "T-Thanks, Jin. Sorry, it's just that like, I, uh I take first impressions pretty... um, seriously."

The man on your left laughs out loud. "Y/N, my first impression of you was weeks ago. I heard you and Jungkook through the wall."

Your mouth drops open. "No."

"Yes," Jin insists.

"NO!" you shout, leaning back from Seokjin and squishing Jungkook in the process. "Were you trying to be a loud gamer to drown out our noises?!" you shriek.

"Yes?" Seokjin says so obviously that he even phrases it like it's a question.

"Oh, god," you groan, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. I'm, like, actually so, so sorry."

Jungkook tries hard not to burst out laughing at your humiliation and even Jin can't help but grin.

"It's fine," Seokjin says. "You made it up to me with the burgers!" he exclaims, fishing out his Shake Shack hamburger from the bag and breathing in deeply. "Ahh," he sighs dreamily, "the best hamburger money can buy."

Okay. You have to admit that his perfect New York accent is hot, but you can't just ignore what he had just uttered. "I think In-N-Out has the best hamburger money can buy," you say, crossing your arms over your chest quite authoritatively. You tend to become quite defensive about Californian culture.

Jungkook snickers at how serious you've become in a matter of seconds but he stays silent.

Seokjin looks at you with his eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his lips. "Really?" he says. "You should get used to the Shake Shack then. We don't have In-N-Out around here."

Your mouth drops open for the second time today as you jerk your body around to stare at Jin. "What the fuck do you mean there's no In-N-Out?"

The man shrugs, relaxing back with his burger in hand and grinning at you. "I mean, we do have better burgers at the Shake Shack."

You groan, collapsing back on the couch and staring defeatedly at the bright TV screen. "I miss California."

"Jungkook went through the same thing," Seokjin assures you. You slowly turn your head to look at him. "I helped him assimilate to NYC life. And now look at him! He's so good at acting like a pure-blood New-Yorker that you even called him a 'sexy NYC man!' "

Oh, no. That particular memory sears through your head, leaving you flustered and quite frankly, frustrated.

"What?? How do you even—" you pause to glare at Jungkook who suddenly refuses to look your way. "I can't believe you told him, Jungkook!"

"We're roommates. We tell each other everything," Seokjin proudly says.

"Oh, god," you mutter under your breath.

"Seok's right, though," Jungkook pipes up. "He's the man to go to when you want to get into the NYC spirit! The dude was born and raised here. He knows everything you need to know about New York. Hang out with him a few times and you'll surely have to drop your SoCal girl status."

You huff. "But like I love being a SoCal girl!"

"We'll see how fast that can change," Seokjin grins.

This isn't a date... is it?

Seokjin had offered to take you out to wander about New York and guide you around to sight-see. He'd told you to dress casually, but how casual is New York casual?? You end up wearing a wine-red sleeveless romper and some cute gladiator sandals, which would honestly make you feel underdressed if you walked anywhere around LA like this.

But one step out into the cold night air, your teeth begin to chatter aggressively. Seokjin's already waiting for you outside of your dorm building and he laughs out loud when he sees you shivering violently.

"You sound like a woodpecker," he snorts. "You look cute, by the way."

"T-T-Thanks," you stutter. "Holy shit, Seokjin, how are you in a T-shirt and shorts right now? It's so motherfucking cold, goddammit!"

Jin throws his head to laugh—almost as if you told the funniest joke in the world. Which, you did not. "It's only 70 degrees, Y/N!"

"It is not!" you argue. "Shiver me fucking timbers, it has to be at least thirty degrees. Where's the snow??"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have worn a sleeveless romper then," Seokjin teases you. "Do you want to go back inside and change?"

"No!" you say. "It's called fashion. Back in California I could wear whatever the fuck I wanted. Like, do you understand that my wardrobe's being limited here??"

Seokjin shrugs, nudging you playfully as he gestures toward the night sky. The brisk air nips at your bare arms and tickles your nose, making you huddle closer to the man next to you. He merely smiles at your action and wraps a warm arm around you. "Welcome to New York, Y/N."

School keeps you busy for a good few months. Meeting up with Jungkook to rant about New York's rat problem and nasty subways while drooling over California's great wonders has become a rarity especially when you're trying hard to maintain your straight-A streak (literally since the day you were born). You haven't even touched Tinder on your phone for a good three months! (And that has nothing to do with the fact that you kinda might have a crush on Kim Seokjin.)

You've been texting him a few times a week (though you've never really gotten to meet up after your first, uh, "date." But the flirty texts he sends you and the promise of meeting up after all of your major exams makes you work twice as hard on your schoolwork. Jin also incessantly teases you about your strange Californian dialect, but you don't mind—especially when you can bag him for replacing every 't' sound with a 'd,' thanks to his New York accent. (He keeps pronouncing 'the' like 'da' and you have to admit, it's a little endearing.)

By the time Thanksgiving Break rolls around, you're deep in the process of organizing your lecture notes so you don't let yourself go out for a whole week.

And when Winter Break rushes in, you and Jungkook take off to California to reunite with family, leaving Seokjin to drown alone in the New York festivity while you and Kook enjoy a hot winter (literally). But the two of you make sure to come back to New York during New Year's to celebrate the iconic ball drop.

"I don't have to watch it on TV anymore!" you had said triumphantly.

When the countdown had signaled a New Year, you weren't lip-locking with either of your friends (but you didn't really mind). Instead, Seokjin had popped a bottle of apple cider (because you and Jungkook couldn't legally drink yet). Jin sipped his own champagne as he watched his younger friends get sugar drunk on apple cider.

All too soon, Winter Break is over. And now's the start of a new semester at NYU, but you already know your classes and professors so you finally let yourself relax. (Jungkook always tells you it's crazy how strongly you radiate work-hard and play-hard energy.)

Yet no matter how long you spend in New York, you just can't get used to it. It must be because you've mostly been stuck inside studying.

The moment you meet up with Jin again, you're brought into the world of New York once more.

"I missed your accent!" you yell as you nearly bulldoze over Seokjin to hug him when he opens the door to his apartment for you.

"Wow. You didn't miss me?" he jokes as he embraces you, tugging you into his apartment and closing the door behind you. "I thought you'd be happier to see me and not hear my insanely hot accent."

"Keep talking, please," you giggle, burying your face against his chest.

"You have no shame, Y/N," Seokjin sighs, but he lets you cling onto him as he waddles backward and towards the small living space with the TV set in it. "JK's out on Tinder date so the apartment is for us," he tells you as he practically throws you on the couch. "What do you wanna do?"

You huff, straightening up your clothes and glaring at Jin for tossing you. "I appreciate it. Like I'm totally not a fragile package," you mutter sarcastically. "I don't know. I guess we can, like, do anything. Are you in the mood of staying in..? Or, like, do you wanna go out?"

"Hmmm," Seokjin pretends to think. He collapses on the couch next to you, staring up at the ceiling with a thoughtful look on his face. "How about we go out?" he says. "You've been cramped up in your dorm room for so long, I think you need fresh air."

"It's like you can read my fucking mind," you grin. "Where to?"

"We're going to get some New York-style pies!"

"Oh, shit," you say. "I love pies."

Apple pie, blueberry pie, key lime pie... Fuck, I'm practically salivating already.

Seokjin winks at you, hoisting you up on your feet and marching toward the apartment door. "Pies, here we come!"

"I fucking thought we were getting pies, Seokjin. Like, dude. This is a pizza parlor," you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Oh, Y/N," Seokjin laughs, ruffling your hair with affection, but when you glare daggers into him, he stops with a nervous chuckle. "Well, we New Yorkers call whole pizzas, pies. It makes more sense that way."

You nearly rip out your hair. "How does that make sense? Pizza and pie are two completely different things! What do you call your pies then??"

"We call them pies!"

"Huh??"

"Whatever," Seokjin snorts. "You need to get used to all of this New Yorker dialect and slang," he says, nudging you. "What do you want on your pizza pie? I'm getting a whole one so JK can have the leftovers."

"Um, I usually get cheese, mushrooms, goat cheese and oregano," you say. "But, like, I'll take anything except pineapples. Pineapples on pizza is a fucking sin."

Jin gasps loudly, putting a hand on his heart. "I always put pineapples on my pies!"

"Oh no. Don't tell me you're one of those people," you groan. "Come on, Jin, I thought you knew better! Like I swear, it's a New Yorker thing—"

"Don't you try to put the blame on New York!" Jin says. "Besides, JK likes pineapples on his pizza pies too, so maybe you're the weird one."

"God, not Kook too."

"Well, we'll get half with pineapples and half without," Seokjin compromises. "How does that sound?"

"Abominable," you mutter under your breath. If there are pineapples anywhere on the pizza, every slice will still have that disgusting tangy taste to it.

"Sorry?"

"I-I mean, that sounds great!" you feign an over-enthused look on your face as you pump your fist in the air. "But you're paying."

Seokjin rolls his eyes but agrees.

And the rest of the time spent goes rather smoothly. The two of you poke fun at each other as usual, and you only mildly get offended when Seokjin pulls the:

"Hey, Y/N?"

"Mm?" you say with your mouth stuffed with pizza (you never thought New York-style pizza could beat the Californian-style but here you are).

"I need to ask you one more thing before we wrap up and I walk you to your dorm," he says, handing you a napkin when you finally swallow your food.

"Thanks," you say. "Ask away."

"I've always wondered," Seokjin says as he leans forward, resting his chin on his upright hand, "why do you excessively say the word, 'like?' "

You let out an unflattering yelp, almost choking on your own spit. Quickly, you take a sip of your ice-cold water to ease the scratchiness of your throat. "Like, what do you mean?" you manage to choke out after an embarrassingly awkward pause.

"I mean, I'm just curious why you say 'like' every five seconds," Jin says, cocking his head. "Is it a SoCal thing? Or a Y/N thing?"

"It is not a Y/N thing! Like a lot of other girls do this, I swear. And it's not like I wanna say it," you huff. "I guess it's like this kind of habit that I, like, can't really get rid of. I dunno. I've heard it was a SoCal thing, but like I'm not too sure."

"Five," Seokjin says.

"What?"

"You said 'like' five times in approximately fifteen seconds," Jin says. "That's about one 'like' every three seconds. That's quite a lot. And I take back my previous hypothesis in which I said you said 'like' every five seconds. I guess it was three."

"I literally hate you!" you scoff. "When did you get all mathematician with me?"

"Since I applied to NYU as a compsci major," Seokjin answers, "which was about three years ago."

You huff. "Whatever I'm gonna major in, I hope it's not related to math."

"Come to think of it," Jin hums, "I never got to know your major." He brushes the pizza crumbs off from his hands and stands up to toss the used napkins away in a nearby trash can.

You stand up as well, taking up the pizza box as Seokjin guides you out of the pizza parlor. "I'm undecided," you tell him. "Like I really don't know what I want to do."

"Well, you're an undergrad, so you'll find something you'll like soon," Jin assures you. "You've got time."

"Thanks," you smile. "Honestly, you're the GOAT."

"Excuse me, I'm a what?" Seokjin looks mildly offended.

"The GOAT?" you say. "You're not even in your thirties yet, keep up!"

"A goat??" Jin bellows. "A fucking barn animal??"

You want to facepalm but your hands are occupied with the pizza box. "The Greatest Of All Time???" When Seokjin still looks puzzled, you shake your head, "Might wanna check out Twitter now and then, old man."

"Maybe that's a California thing!" Jin protests. "It's totally a California thing. I mean, look, Y/N, New Yorkers aren't that crazy to go around calling people barn animals."

"New Yorkers are definitely crazier than Californians," you say. "Oh, and we have to cross the street soon, my dorm's close."

"No way in hell we're crazier than you," Seokjin snorts. "C'mon we can cross the street here."

The here that Seokjin's refers to is a street full of cars and no pedestrian crossing. "Are you really suggesting that we jaywalk?" you say incredulously. "This just proves my point further!"

"What?? Jaywalking is normal," he argues. "Plus, it saves time. We New Yorkers are busy!"

"Puh-lease," you say. "You won't be so busy when you're dead," you point out. "There was this girl who went to my high school, right? And like one day we all heard that she died after some stupid car hit her when she was jaywalking. Dude, her boyfriend's still mourning her death. I think his name was Taehyun. Or Daehyung. Or Taehyung? I don't remember. But my point is," you pause dramatically, "that I don't want to die so we should not jaywalk."

"Californians are way too laid back," Seokjin sighs. "Fine!" He throws his hands into the air. "We'll find a crosswalk, then. I'll spare your life."

You giggle, nudging him to the side. "Thank you. Chivalry is not dead."

"Shivering is definitely not dead either," Jin jokes. "It's only sixty degrees, Y/N. And you're wearing a whole coat! Do you really need me to give you my jacket?"

"Oh shut up," you say, hugging the warm pizza box closer to your chest. "New York at night is freezing. Like I still haven't gotten used to it. And no, I don't need your jacket," you scoff, upturning your nose away from Jin.

"Fine, but if you become a frozen popsicle, I'm selling you off to a museum."

"Wow," you deadpan. "I rescind what I said earlier. You are not the GOAT. You are the WOAT."

"I don't have to be a genius to understand what that acronym is," Jin snorts. "And I am not the worst of all time. That's Jungkook. You know, he brought in his Tinder date again yesterday and they've been really, really loud in the bedroom. I can't fucking sleep."

"Oh, poor Jinnie," you coo. "What are you gonna do?"

"I just blasted the Baby Shark song yesterday on my speaker and they stopped on their own," he shrugs. "It's an instant turn-off, apparently."

"That's evil!" you cry. "But so genius."

"I know, I know," Jin laughs. "Any more song suggestions to prevent Jungkook from banging at the craziest hours of the night?"

"Hm..." you say. "What about the Winx Club theme song? Or the Pokémon theme song? Or, oh my god, like what about the Sofia the First theme song???"

"What the fuck are the Winx Club and Sofia the First?" Jin says.

"No way," you say, shivering slightly when a gust of wind decides to torment you and your hair. Pulling the strands of your hair from your mouth, you yell, "You're missing out! I grew up with the Winx Club! And I only watched Sofia the First because my younger sister liked it so much."

"You have a younger sister?" Seokjin asks. "Well, figures. I'm an only child so the only things I watched as a kid were Transformers and the Avengers." He snorts. "Maybe a little bit of Pokémon."

"Dude, I could name all 151 Pokémon from Generation I," you say. "I was obsessed."

"Oh yeah? I can name all 807!" Seokjin declares. "Every one of them from Generation I to VII."

"God, you have me beat," you giggle, shrugging your shoulders. “I thought you watched only a little bit of Pokémon!” 

“Maybe I just have a fantastic memory,” Seokjin teases.

You roll your eyes, though you’re grinning uncontrollably. Sighing, you turn to a stop in front of your dorm building, holding out the pizza box for Jin to take. "Oh, wow, what do you know? We're already here."

"That went by quickly," Jin laughs, taking the pizza box. "Time always flies quickly with you."

You don't know if he really meant the last part, but you blush an embarrassing color of fire-engine red of which you hope he can't see because of the darkness.

"I agree," you admit. "I had fun. And thanks for the pizza. New York-style reigns over what I'm used to back in California."

"No problem," Seokjin grins fondly at you. "Guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," you smile. "Just text me whenever Jungkook's being too loud on his sexscapades. I'll send some good turn-off music recommendations like right away!"

Seokjin laughs, nodding his head in agreement. "I can't wait."

I can't wait either.

Your crush on Seokjin literally amplifies by tenfolds every time you hang out with him, which is quite often these days.

One "date" with Jin had turned into two. Two turned into three. Then, five, then eight. Now you're seventeen "dates" in, you and Jin have yet to define your relationship with each other. But you suppose you don't mind.

It isn't very often that you're so emotionally attracted to someone. I mean, how long has it been since I liked someone before I had sex with them??

But your relationship with Seokjin is special, and you're willing to drag on these "dates" (at least you hope they're dates) if it means that you and he will eventually become a couple. Unless Seokjin's not attracted to you in that way.

But that's crazy. Who isn't attracted to you in that way?? Okay, maybe a lot of guys. But you've always had a sixth sense when it came to men! Usually, you crush on the same ones that like you back. So maybe something could really blossom out of your current relationship with Kim Seokjin.

Unless he friendzoned you the moment he heard you have sex with Jungkook.

You are in quite a dilemma.

Two weeks later, your dilemma has extended from your love life to your academic life. There is pressure from your parents and peers to choose a major—especially since you've already lasted one semester in college already.

You have to start studying for the final exams as well. And everything is driving you nuts.

You've always considered going to med school, but law school doesn't sound so bad either. You have to choose your majors according to what job you want to have in the future, but you don't know what you want to do at all! You're just really good at doing what you're given to do. So, honestly, if someone pulled a random major from a hat, you could probably take it and do something with it.

Hm. That idea doesn't sound that bad.

You end up FaceTiming Seokjin for guidance.

"Well, you look like you haven't gotten sleep," he comments when he sees your dark circles and frenzied hair.

"I need to choose a major," you tell him immediately. "Like, right now. In the next twenty minutes or I'm going to blow."

"Oh, shit. How can I help?"

"Okay, so I made this huge list of NYU's majors and like all you have to do is randomly scroll through the list and pick one!" you say. "Easy! Whatever you pick, I'll do it!"

Seokjin scrunches his face. "I don't think that's a good idea, Y/N. What if I pick something insane? Like bagpiping? Or mining?"

You roll your eyes. "I don't think NYU even has those majors. C'mon pick one, hurry up! I'll close my eyes. Tell me when you're done."

Seokjin looks at the long list of majors you had sent him, shaking his head at you in disbelief. He doesn't want you potentially ruining your future because he picked a shitty major for you. And you looked pretty serious about this idea too. As if the moment Seokjin chose a major, you'd pick it and run with it.

Jin's not going to jeopardize your future like that. He doesn't even have to look at the list to declare what he thinks would be best for you. (And besides, if you didn't like it, you could always change majors... And if you couldn't change majors, you can't really blame it on him because you made him choose randomly. So it would be your fault. So either way he's immune!)

"I landed on business management," Seokjin says. "You can open your eyes."

Your eyes are wide the moment you open them. "Management?" you gasp. For a second, Seokjin thinks you're going to throw a tantrum, but a huge grin erupts on your face. "Oh my god! Management! Why didn't I think of that before?? It's perfect! Thank you, Jin! Thank you so much! You're literally fucking magical."

Seokjin's almost taken aback by your positive response but he plays along with it rather coolly. "I am pretty fucking magical. You're welcome."

"You just reduced my stress levels by fifty percent," you say, sighing as you fall back on your bed. "I still have to study for all my final exams... Not very fun... You know, back in California, if I ever felt stressed out or something, I'd, like, drive to the beach for a fun day with friends."

Seokjin cracks a smile. "Yeah, well we have sewage water here in New York. You can swim in there if you miss the beach so much."

"Sounds appetizing," you deadpan. "One day, I'm going to take you to SoCal and show you the beaches."

"That honestly sounds great, Y/N," Jin says. "Never been to the beach before."

Your jaw drops open in shock. "No fucking way, Jin. No fucking way."

"Well, you never saw snow before until you came to New York," Jin points out.

"Yikes," you mutter. "Touché."

Seokjin smiles fondly at you before shaking out of his little reverie. "Hey, you have to study, right? I'll stop bothering you."

"Oh, please," you laugh. "You're not bothering me. I feel even better now. Not even a beach trip could elate me to this extent."

And it's true. Just talking to Seokjin for a few minutes dissipates all of your pent-up stress. And you have one less problem to worry about—you finally have an idea about what major you want to pursue! Seokjin is a walking miracle.

Maybe after your exams, you'll have to ask him out on an official date. If you don't chicken out, that is.

It is officially summer!

You've maintained your straight A's, have finally decided your major and even found a part-time job at a local thrift shop. Life is great.

It would've been better though if one, it wasn't so fucking cold during May and two if you were dating Seokjin.

Jungkook's been teasing you about how head-over-heels whipped you are for Jin, but you threaten to hack into JK's Tinder account and lock an unflattering photo of him on his profile picture whenever his teasing becomes extremely annoying. It's so strange that you've been stuck on one crush for nearly eight months now since usually, you have a new 'boy toy' every other week.

Seokjin is special.

So special that you literally gave up your hookups. And sex. You also deleted your Tinder account. You are serious about this man.

There's something about him that makes your insides twist in a funny way and your heart feel warm and fuzzy whenever he texts you. Have you mentioned how attentive to your needs he is? The man's a genius gift-giver! On your birthday (April 4th), he bought you an embroidered double-sided jacket that not only made a bold fashion statement but also kept you warm in the abominable New York weather.

God, you might even love this man.

You should confess to him soon before some other girl snatches him. But it seems as if Seokjin has stopped going on dates, and the only girl he actively hangs out with is you. (You had to ask Jungkook to figure that out.)

So maybe you have a chance.

And today is the day to act upon it.

Seokjin promised to take you out on a walk around Central Park after you finished your shift at the thrift shop. He's eagerly waiting with a warm cup of hot chocolate for you by the time you're finished.

"Hey!" you say, beaming. "Thanks for the drink."

"No problem," Seokjin answers, winking at you before sipping his own ice coffee. "Central Park's about forty minutes away from here. Are you up for the walk?"

"I walked around a lot in California so maybe I should ask you if you're up for the walk," you smile, strutting out of the shop with Jin quickly at your heels.

"Where's there to walk in California??" he asks when he catches up to you.

"Oh my god, Jin. You're forgetting about all the cool shit in LA!" you say. "I walked to Urth Cafe like every day after school with my friends. And then like we'd have these photoshoots on Melrose Avenue... Man, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I went to UCLA."

"You got accepted into UCLA??"

"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "I'm kind of glad I didn't go, though." You would’ve never met Seokjin.

"Oh?" Seokjin laughs. "Are you finally getting accustomed to New York, then?"

"No way," you say, shaking your head fervidly. "Dude, do you not see the jacket I'm wearing right now? It's freezing! And you're wearing a short-sleeve shirt!"

"It's the jacket I bought you!" Jin exclaims, smiling. "Well, the weather here's something you gotta get used to. By the time you graduate, though, you'll be fine."

"I hope so," you say. "I really, really hope so."

"But I mean, other than the weather situation, I feel like New York is your home now," Jin says. "You like the people here, at least, right?" He bats his eyelashes flirtatiously and you roll your eyes, though the butterflies in your stomach wake up from their slumber. "How have your Tinder dates been?"

"Oh, uh..." You awkwardly scratch your head. "I deleted my account."

Seokjin laughs out loud. "Oh no! Were the New York guys not cutting it??"

You flush, biting your lip and twiddling with your fingers. He kinda put you on the spot, here. Maybe you should come clean now...? You originally planned to confess at Central Park, but maybe it’s smarter to confess earlier. (That way, if he feels the same you two can have your official first date at Central Park. And if he doesn't feel the same way, the two of you can go home before visiting Central Park to avoid awkwardness. It's a master plan!)

"Well, I wouldn't know," you shrug coolly. "The only New York guy I had sex with turned out to be a Californian dude in disguise," you giggle. "And... I just didn't find the need to get with other guys."

"Oh?" Seokjin smiles amusedly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like, I don't know," you sigh. Your head is jumbled with words you've recited and also the words that you just thought of to string together. Your chest feels heavy and your stomach twists in knots but you force yourself to follow through. With a deep breath you let it all out: "I guess like I've had a teensy weensy crush on you since like the moment we met," you start slowly, carefully. "And I'd uh, I'd like to officially date you, if you, like, feel the same way as me..." you trail off, looking at Seokjin to figure out if his initial reaction would give away his true feelings toward you.

But to your utmost relief, he grins. That's a good sign—it has to be!

"Y/N..." he smiles. "Five. Again! In twenty seconds this time! One 'like' in every four seconds. You're slowly getting rid of your SoCal dialect, look at that!"

When Seokjin sees the unamused look on your face, he throws his head back and laughs. "I was just teasing you, love," he says. "You know, I deleted Bumble the day I met you in person?"

"Really?" you squeal, turning to Jin with such high velocity that you almost spill your hot chocolate. Your insides melt, and your head repeatedly echoes the way he had called you 'love.' You feel faint.

"Yeah," Jin says. "So we're official, aren't we?"

"Hell yes!" you say.

"Our first date is at Central Park," Jin laughs. "This was the best timing ever. It's even in the summer. You know, when everyone scrambles to find love. We don't have to look anymore!"

You snort, linking your arms together and leaning onto Seokjin—who just now became your boyfriend. "I still can't fucking believe it's summer," you sigh, shaking your head. "Like dude, it's so fucking cold that I'm drinking hot chocolate!"

"Oh!" Seokjin exclaims. "Right! The hot chocolate?"

"What?"

"Open the lid, please," he grins. "A pleasant surprise will be waiting for you."

Carefully, you do as he says, only to find the white cream on the hot chocolate to be shaped into a sort-of mangled heart. You gasp, staring at the heart in utter shock. "Were you going to ask me out today??"

"You beat me to it," Jin laughs. "Saved me the trouble, love."

The butterflies in your stomach flutter about every time he calls you that (which was only two times so far, but still).

"We're really meant to be, then," you giggle.

"Like, we really are."

Seokjin taught you many things. How to be a good New Yorker without even being a native. How to hail a taxi gracefully. How to get a seat on the Subway. How to order the best pizza pie ever. And most of all, he taught you commitment.

Never have you been this committed to a man in all your life. That being said, you've only lived for nineteen years. But then again, it's hard to change your habits of being finicky with guys in your high school years. Yet they're changed now.

You've said goodbye to Tinder, to hookups, to meaningless sex. You've said hello to your boyfriend, to continue your pursuit of business management, to navigate around New York.

July becomes your favorite month quite easily when you realize it is possible for New York to have hot weather too. You bring out your short skirts and tank tops and have a fashion show every day choosing which outfits to wear. (Seokjin becomes your personal outfit-picker against his will.)

You have to say, New York isn't so bad. You haven't really missed California at all for a while.

"You know," you tell your boyfriend as he braids your hair for you so you can complete your outfit of the day with a stylish, “effortless” side braid.

"Hm?" Jin answers, his tongue peeking out of his lips from hard concentration.

"I think I'm getting used to this place," you say, turning around to smile at your boyfriend.

Seokjin laughs, tying your braid in place before leaning in to kiss your lips. "Finally!" he says between small pecks. "It took you awhile."

"Oh, come on. It didn't take me that long. It hasn't even been a year yet!" you protest. "I love New York. Honestly!"

Your boyfriend smiles. "When do you think you'll start to talk in a New York accent?"

"Never!" you say. "I'm keeping my 'likes' and 'dudes,' thank you! I have to keep some part of my Californian self."

"Oh, trust me," Seokjin snorts. "You will never lose the fashion-crazed part of you. Please don't make me fly on a plane to go to Coachella."

"Damn, you know me too well," you huff. "Fine. No Coachella. But I want to take you down Hollywood one day. Or at least Urth Cafe. No, holy shit, I need to take you to the beach! Or In-N-Out! There are so many places to go in LA! I'll be the best tour guide ever, Jin!"

"Aw, love," Seokjin says, nuzzling your nose against his. "I can't wait for my tour in the Golden State with my native Californian girlfriend."

"I can't wait either!" you giggle, kissing his lips while placing your hands against his soft cheeks. "I had the wonderful experience of getting my own, personal native New Yorker tour guide, so it's only fair I let you on a tour around my home state too!"

"We'll go during winter break, how's that?" Seokjin says. "We can celebrate Christmas in California."

You grin. "It'll be a tropical Christmas. You up for that?"

"I'm down!" Seokjin says. "I've never lived through a hot winter before. I'll have to see all the rave about California myself."

You wink at him. "You'll love it. Like, really, really love it."

"If I don't, you have to try pineapple pizza pie," Seokjin says. "Bet."

"Oh, you're on!"

All too soon, summer is over and the fall season creeps upon you and the rest of New York City. The freezin' season is back and ready to haunt you and turn your mornings into motherfucking abominations.

Except, it's not as cold as you last remember it. Maybe this year's winter in New York will be warmer for whatever reason. Or maybe it's because Seokjin always does a great job of keeping you warm when it's cold. (You definitely think the latter is the true answer.)

Because with Seokjin, even waking up on Mondays at 8 in the cold fucking morning isn't so abominable after all.

masterlist

[halfwayinlight]

Title: Whale Watching Fandom: Star Trek TNG Rating: PGish Pairing: Will Riker/Deanna Troi @jessrva requested  imzadi, post thad-pre kestra...i just love the potential of life with a kid that we never got to see, or he can be totally background..just solid hot married parents riker/troi

“See! See dat!” Thad squealed in delight, legs bending, and he would have been trying to clamber up the rails if his father didn’t have such a secure hold on him.

“Yeah, that’s a huge whale!” Will laughed as the enormous humpback breached and sent up a spray that misted them, even from meters away. He shook his head to get the droplets out of his eyes and was about to check Thad’s face when his son shouted in delight and strained closer toward the railing.

Deanna’s arm was there in a breath, banding across Thad’s chest. She gave a light pat. “We have to stand here, sweetheart.”

He leaned toward her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “He’s not going anywhere,” Will assured. Even if the very worst happened and their son somehow slipped, it was the holodeck and there were safety measures.

I know, but you know that I worry, she thought toward him. Her other arm slid around his back, and she shivered a little before snuggling in closer to his side.

“Compu--”

“It’s fine,” she assured, “you don’t need to turn up the temperature for me. It… it takes away from the ambiance.” Despite her insistence, he could see she was cold, even in the parka and thick boots and gloves and hat.

“At least whale watching season in Alaska is in the summer,” he teased, his hip bumping hers playfully.

“It’s warmer than the last time we visited,” she agreed.

“Mama! Yook!” their baby was demanding their attention now, his nearly year old self squirming in sheer delight as another whale surfaced and kept pace with the boat.

“I see it, sweetheart,” Deanna chuckled, clearly savoring the view before them, even if it wasn’t real and the temperature was lower than she usually preferred.

While most of their family holodeck adventures were more for the grownup’s amusement, they were expanding their options to try to give Thad at least virtual experiences he missed seeing by living on a spaceship. Most of the time Deanna chose something with the ocean or swimming. They had programs for Lake Elnar, the Opal Sea, Pacifica, and the Black Sea.  This was, to be fair, ocean-oriented, too. But she’d asked Will to choose today.

“A few more days, and he’ll be toddling through the gardens in Medara,” Will murmured. “And splashing around the lake…” When she was quiet beside him, both of his arm wrapped around their son and he glanced down at her. “You’re not having second thoughts about… the lake, are you? If it’s too hard, we can go somewhere else or stay at Fifth House.”

Her head shook, and she pushed up on her toes, pulling him close to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Tisses!” Thad begged.

Deanna smiled as her lips pressed to Will’s. An insistent chubby hand caught her coat and added to their son’s demand. “I have kisses for you, too, be patient,” she chided, though she did so with a laugh and a kiss to their baby’s round cheeks.

Imzadi?

Her hand patted Will’s back in assurance. “No, I just can’t believe he’ll be one in another week. It's going so quickly! I know Beverly told me it would, but... it's still going faster than I expected. It seems like mere weeks ago that I had him. And then he wasn't a newborn any more. And he's almost a toddler and looks less like a baby all of a sudden. That last hair cut, it's... different.  He's starting to look like a toddler, and then he'll be a child....But I’m glad we get to celebrate on a planet that’s so important to me.”

He knew what she hadn't said. That it reminded her of Ian. How fast it had happened. And this was normal growth, but it was moving quickly. These precious moments and milestones were coming faster than ever. I'm sorry, Imzadi, he tried to offer comfort, not knowing the words to make it easier for either of them. "And I'm glad, too. That we're celebrating in a place so important to both of us,” he added aloud. In his arms, Thad squirmed and exclaimed again as a pair of whales surfaced and one breached. “And I’m sure your mother’s spared no celebrations.”

“I’m sure she hasn’t,” Deanna agreed, resting her head against his shoulder. She relaxed against him as though she could absorb comfort from him like a sponge taking water. It was nearly true.

There was something else she wanted to add to that, Will was sure of this. But he had full faith that his wife would share soon if it was something he really needed to know. Something told him it was a conversation to have when their son wasn’t enamored with giant mammals and open water.

He pulled his attention back to Thad and the moment. If anything, being a parent had helped him learn to appreciate being in the moment. Everything was new and exciting to their son, and sometimes Will knew this was overwhelming. But today it was utter delight. Beside him, Deanna was absorbing the emotion, too, and she was letting him share in the euphoria of joy. The happiness of their boy slowly easing the harder memories of her first child leaving.

The lights shifted in the simulated sky, turning into dusk and the northern lights glimmering overhead and bring up fresh chatter and giggles from Thad. They settled onto deck seating in a cozy pile. It took only a few moments to conjure up a few blankets for them and some hot chocolate that Deanna shared with Thad.

Eventually Thad was cuddled between them and staring up at the shifting colors in the sky, enchanted.

“I’m looking forward to celebrating our anniversary, too, while we're away,” Will murmured against the sensitive skin of his wife’s ear.

“Mmmm, me too,” she agreed, turning and finding themselves a mere inch apart. He leaned in the remaining distance and took a long kiss. “Mother has something planned for that… not sure what, yet…”

His eyebrows lifted. “Should I take that as a warning.”

“No,” his wife chuckled. “She adores you. You make me happy. You take such good care of us.”

“I gave her a grandchild,” he continued the list wryly.

“Mhmm,” she agreed. “And she would be very happy to fill up every room in Fifth House with a grandchild.”

Will relaxed back in the seat and found her hand to give it a soft squeeze. He took several long moments to try to come up with the answer before finally asking. “Exactly, ah… how many bedrooms does Fifth House have?”

She sighed, her thumb stroking his hand affectionately. “Well, now that depends on how you count.”

“One… free,” Thad mused beside them.

“Yes, one, two, three,” Deanna agreed absently. “There’s something like a dozen bedroom suites in the north wing. South wing was largely ceremonial, but had a few rooms. I really don’t know how many are in the east and west, but I suppose mother would be glad to tell me…”

“Yes, would you please?” he dared her, eyes narrowing to match her mischief. Is that something we’re even ready to think about?

She shrugged silently, releasing his hand to fuss over the blankets around them and adjusting Thad’s small toque. I’m not saying no, but we haven’t really discussed it...Do you… want more kids?

I like the idea of him having a brother or sister. Growing up with a sibling. We both missed out on that. He’d sometimes wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up with a sibling. And more than once she’d talked to him about Kestra and shared her wonderings with him. What it would’ve, or rather could’ve, been like to grow up with a sister.

Personally, he thought it might have been harder if he’d had a sibling. At least if he’d had a younger sibling. It would’ve been harder, if not impossible, to leave for Starfleet at such a young age. He shivered at the idea of leaving a brother or sister behind.

Deanna somehow managed to move closer yet, pulling a drowsier and drowsier Thad into her lap and resting her head against his chest. I’m sorry he hurt you so much. Gloved fingers brushed his cheek, and it was only then that he realized there were tears.  “Will?” she asked softly.

“This is the best medicine,” he replied, wrapping his arms around his family and holding both of them close. “I love you both, very much.”

“We love you, too,” Deanna answered thickly, taking several long kisses, fingers playing with his beard.

This time it was his turn to brush away the tears, and he finally pulled back slightly from the kiss, dropping a small one to her forehead and cherishing this connection they shared. “The rest of this can wait until tonight… is Wes taking him?”

“Nursery,” she clarified. “They’re going to keep him overnight for us.” It took a lot of doing, including specific scheduling, to make sure Vale was on call and they were both off schedule the next day. But after a challenging first year or so of marriage, they’d learned to make time together as a couple. Since Thad had joined the family, they’d only managed five nights over the past eleven months to themselves.

That was an oversight Will hoped to correct, starting tonight. But they had planned a little family time first. And from the drowsy expression on their baby’s face, their plan to wear Thad out first was working. Currently Thad was shifting to rest his head against his mother’s shoulder, and he was sucking on his middle two fingers in the way he did each night as they read bedtime stories to him.

“What should I know about our trip to Betazed?” he finally asked quietly. They still had the holodeck for at least half an hour, but it seemed like Thad might be asleep before their time was up. Often if they started their own conversation in low voices, Thad would nod off. He certainly wasn't in a hurry to give up time with his two favorite people.

She gave him a gentle smile and rubbed their son’s back lightly. “You know that for Betazoids, children are a special blessing. So I think she’s likely planning a big party. Or even several parties and celebrations. I’m… actually a little concerned it might overwhelm Thaddy. There’s also a small ceremony. A blessing. But, Will, we live on a starship with the same few hundred beings, and his circle is small. It’s one thing to go to a planet or starbase and make a visit. But I’m worried it might be too many people and too much...”

Will absorbed this quietly before ordering another fresh hot chocolate for Deanna and taking a nearly asleep child so she could enjoy her drink. “The blessing sounds really nice. You’ve always been supportive of rituals and ceremonies to mark important events. But more than one party and a big party ...is that… typical?”

“A party and the blessing, yes. Knowing my mother, it will be much more elaborate. Because he’s her first grandchild. And, thus far, only grandchild. And because she’s… my mother.” That’s really all that needed to be said about Lwaxana Troi. “I’ll call her in the next day or so and try to make sure it’s… within reason.”

He nodded, pulling the blanket closer around Thad. “She really is one of his biggest fans.”

“It’s one of her more endearing qualities,” Deanna agreed. She pushed herself up, giving the view of the northern lights one last gaze before turning to her husband. “I think he’s asleep.”

“He is. He’s drooling on me,” Will answered with a grin. One hand cupped the back of his son’s head as he leaned in and captured her lips in a slow, warm kiss. He let it linger and deepen, tongue teasing hers for a long moment before pulling back. “I think it’s time for the two of us.”

“Mhmm,” she agreed, fingers teasing the nape of his neck and dropping several kisses along his cheek. “I’m thinking some nice synthenol… some of those oysters you like…” Another soft kiss to his lips, and she smoothed back a lock of his dark hair.

Will grinned widely. “And that new dress of yours?” he asked hopefully.

Her head tipped, and her eyebrows lifted as she gave him a long appraising look. “Actually,” she confided, “I had a different idea for my wardrobe tonight. But I’ll let that be a surprise… and I’ll even let you choose the jazz music.”

With a wolfish grin, he stole a quick kiss before rolling smoothly to his feet and shifting their sleeping son. His fingers entangled with hers, and he urged her up. “Computer, end simulation.” Nodding toward the door, he added, “Lady, you’ve got a date.”

[pink-bird-30]

Zutara Week 2020 Day 7-Rebirth

*Laughs nervously while scratch back of head

Well, as you can tell I’m like a week and a half late on this submission to Zutara Week 2020.  Do I have an excuse?  Nope.

This is my last submission to Zutara week 2020-aka Zutara-never-ending-week-for-me. I really like what I wrote here and I hope you do too. It took me a few days and it amounted to almost 6,000 words. Which is crazy to me.

Thank you for reading my submissions from the past two weeks, it's been a blast being part of Zutara Week. As a new person to the fandom, I'm grateful so many of you like my stories.

Here you can find my completed works from this week/week 1/2 on FF.Net:

(https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13657644/1/Zutara-Week-2020-All-Works)

As always, Happy Reading!

(Ps, I might make this an actual story, let me know!)

The ancient spirits once foretold a banish prince would become the Fire Lord.  He would restore peace and harmony to his nation, bringing all corners of the world together and become one.  As years passed, the story was told around campfires and at Fire Nation festivals.  As each Fire Lord had their children, and were blessed by Agni with a son, the forsaken nations would pray to the spirts their salvation had come.

But hundreds of years had passed and each son was granted the throne in honor each cycle.  Even with the Fire Nation growing with power, the people had long forgotten the tale of the Banished Prince who would restore harmony to the four nations.

Until today.

“Uncle Iroh, where is my father?”  Prince Zuko slowly sits up in his bed, feeling the pain on the left side of his face radiate with every move.  Iroh sighed as he pulls a chair to Zuko’s bedside before hanging his head low.

“Nephew, I am sadden to tell you.  But you are to leave in four days’ time and never to return.”  Iroh can hear the intake of breath from his nephew, but refuses to meet his eye.  Iroh was already in shock that his younger brother would do such a thing to his own son.  But not surprised that he would turn on his own family.

“But…”  Zuko sniffles, trying his best not to cry.  It’d hurt his burned eye too much.  “I’m the prince of the Fire Nation!  I have to stay.  I need to-“

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh reaches out and takes his nephew’s hand.  Squeezing it in comfort before withdrawing completely.  “You’re father has determined you are not to return until the Avatar is found.  Until then, you are banished from the palace.”

“W-what!  Banished!  No son of the Fire Lord has ever been banished!”  he cried out.

Zuko’s words triggered a memory from Iroh’s travels in the Fire Nation Army.  When he was a young man of seventeen, the older generals had everyone sit around a bonfire and tell old myths of the Fire Nation.  He remembers one of the generals telling the story of the Banish Prince, and how his rise to power would be the rebirth of the four nations.  But the part of the story that people always forgot, was the rise of the Banish Prince only happens due to the love that burns in his heart.

Iroh stands up and sits on the edge of Zuko’s bed patting his knee, “You may not understand now, Prince Zuko.  But soon, it will all be worth it.  For the moon cannot live without the sun to chase it out of the sky.”

Zuko raises a brow wondering why his uncle is always so cryptic.

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

“Prince Zuko, I believe there has been a sighting of the avatar.”

Zuko’s amber eyes slowly open, breaking him from his meditative state before rising from his knees to his feet.  Striding across the room, Zuko grabs his armor and dual dao swords and turns towards the solider.

“Take me to the Avatar.”

The soldier bows his head before meeting the prince’s eyes, “We are heading to the South Pole.  An old Fire Nation ship set off a flare.  We are certain it is the Avatar.”

The banish prince nods before following the soldier from his quarters and making his way to the war room; it was time to plan their attack.

Hours later, the Fire Nation ship pulls to a small Water Tribe community.  The prince scoffs seeing how poorly these people live.  He has no desire to step foot off the ship in fear their poverty would tarnish his royal status, but the need to capture the Avatar outweighs his disgust.

“You men, drop the ramp.  It’s time to capture the Avatar.”

“Yes, your highness.”  The men yell in unison before firebending the ramp to the snow covered ground and stepping ahead of the prince on the journey down to the Water Tribe people.  Zuko followed behind with his uncle Iroh, looking around at the small tents and the large igloo that takes up the small colony of people.  It wasn’t until he stepped foot on the snow that there were no men present.  Mostly women and young children occupied the tribe.  It was only made apparent when no one tried to stop the firebenders from invading their homes.

Zuko walks up to the first water tribe person in his sight and pulls them by the parka, “I am here for the Avatar, where is he?”

The teenaged girl lifts a dark eyebrow and lets out a small growl, “First off, let me go!  Second, none of your damn business Fire Nation scum!”

The young woman’s hands shoot out in a quick movement, freezing Zuko to the snow.  His eyes widen in shock, not realizing there were still waterbenders among the Southern Water Tribe.

“How..the waterbenders were wiped out years ago in raids sent by Fire Lord Ozai.  How are you still alive?”  Zuko tried to pull his legs from the ice, but the waterbender was stronger than him.

She grasps his chin with her hand, the coolness meeting the warmth of his face, forcing him to meet her gaze.  “Your father murdered my mother and my people.  I will do whatever it takes to protect them from you and your men.  We may only be a tribe of women and children, but our spirit is strong.”

Pulling away she moves her arms to bend the snow into slivers of ice and attacks Zuko’s men.  They bend fire to shield themselves from the onslaught, but don’t account for the waterbender to be ready to bring the water from the ocean in a giant wave and push their ship from the colony, making it breakaway from the ramp.

Zuko gasps at her strength, “You’re a master waterbender, aren’t you?”

She smirks, “ That’s Master Katara to you, firebender.”

His anger finally getting the best of him, Zuko breaks free and steps into a firebending pose, “And that’s Prince Zuko to you, Master Katara.”

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

“I blame you, jerkbender.”

“Hey!  I’m not the one tied to the tree right now, am I?”

Katara huffs as she tries to break her hands free from her bindings.  Zuko had to go and gang up with a bunch of pirates, didn’t he.  All she wanted was the waterbender scroll, it was her right as a waterbender to perfect her technique and teach Aang.

“Look,”  He gets up from where the pirates knocked him unconscious.  Dusting off his armor, he runs a hand down his face.  “I only hired them to get the Avatar, getting you alone was all me.”

Katara looks at him curiously before rolling her eyes, “Oh please, you hardly seem like the talking type.  What do you want from me?  Besides the obvious of course.”

He lets out a deep chuckle, “You know.  For a waterbender, you have a fire within you.”

Struggling against her bindings again she sighs in defeat and looks away.  Sometimes she wishes she never left the South Pole.  Things were easy there.  She was the only waterbender and her duty was to protect her people and heal them.  But now she was stuck to a tree with her nemesis telling her she had a ‘fire within her’.  Not letting him see the tears fall down her cheeks, she gives up.  Hoping her brother will find her missing from their campsite.

“Katara?”  Zuko takes a step closer to her, noticing she is no longer fighting against the tree but bending her head away from him at an awkward angle, making sure he was unable to see her face.

She sniffles in reply, giving Zuko enough courage to step forward and tilt her face towards him.  He sees the tear stains down her dark cheeks, her bright blue eyes puffy and red, and her lip quivers slightly.

She’s like you, hurt by a war started by fear and power.

Zuko shakes the thought away and brushes the tears away, “You have to understand.  I need the Avatar to go home.  Without him, I’ll never have my father’s love.”

Slowly, Katara meets his gaze, taking note of how his eyes seem lighter under the moonlight.  “Zuko, your father should love you no matter what.  You shouldn’t have to prove to him you’re worthy of his time.”

He closes his eyes, refusing to let the water peasant see him so weak.  She watches his face contort from sincerity to anger, before letting go of her face completely.  Katara would never admit it out loud, but she misses the warmth of his hand against her cool cheek.

Opening his eyes, Zuko looks away from Katara and walks behind her.  He pulls the blue necklace from his pocket and drapes his arms around her to place the jewelry around her neck.

“I found this after the attack on my ship.  It must’ve came off while we battled.”  He ties the cloth around her neck before stepping back, “I hear you call for the Avatar to turn around for it, I’m guessing it is of great importance to you.”  He takes a knife from his belt and cuts at the bindings keeping her to the tree.  Once the last one loosens, she falls to the ground grasping the grass between her fingers.

He walks around the tree and offers her a hand.  She looks up at him skeptically before accepting it and allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Thank you.”  She mumbles.  Adjusting the pendant at her neck to sit perfectly center.  This gives Zuko the opportunity to see the etching on the pendant, noticing the Water Tribe symbol carved into the soft blue stone.

Zuko realizes he’s staring at her longer than usual.  He quickly looks away, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks and coughs to erase the awkward tension rising between them.

“Don’t mention it.  Ever.  I can’t let people knowing I let the Avatar’s waterbending master go.”

Katara smiles slightly before stepping forward.  Zuko notices her movements and freezes, afraid that she will turn on him.

“Zuko.”

He swallows hard.  “Yes?”

She walks closer to him, his eyes watching her movements, ready to attack if she decided to turn on him after his generosity.

Leaning towards him, she rests her hand on his shoulder and brushes a soft kiss across his scarred cheek and withdraws from him completely.

“Thank you, Zuko.”

Grasping the pendant in her hand, she gives him a genuine smile before running off into the forest.  Leaving a dumfounded prince holding his pale hand against his cheek.

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

“Nephew, it seems that you are more joyous than normal.  May I ask the reasoning?”  Iroh pours another cup of tea and places it on a serving tray.  He then ringing the bell to signal the waiter to pick up the next order of teas.

Zuko sputters, almost dropping the mop he was using to clean up a tea spill caused by a mother with two young sons.

“I don’t know what you mean, uncle.”

Iroh washes his hands in the water basin before drying them with his light green apron, “Ah, Prince Zuko.  Although you may not see it, I notice when a young lad is harboring a crush.”

Zuko’s eyes widen before turning to his uncle in fury, “You have no idea what you speak of, uncle!  Besides,“ Zuko leans the mop against the wall and takes a seat at a nearby table.  “Who would I have feelings for?  We’ve been on the run for weeks.”

Iroh nods as he grabs a hot tea kettle and two cups and settles them on the table. He pours two cups of jasmine tea and takes a small sip, savoring the lovely flavors.  “You see, nephew.  A crush is something that accrues over time.  Maybe during instances of time that will amount to a longing heart.”  Iroh leans closer to Zuko, “Now tell me, is it the waterbender?”

Zuko nearly spits out his tea before the hot liquid seeps down the back of his throat.  “The water peasant?  That’s absurd, uncle!”

Iroh hums as he takes another sip of tea and settles his cup back on the table.  “Well, if that is so.  Than you would not mind taking the next table in the corner there.”

Zuko follows his uncle’s line of sight and takes note of the far corner of the room.  There’s a small girl with dark black hair pulled back by a green headband.  And an older girl with long dark curls and bright blue eyes wearing a green Earth Kingdom dress.

“Katara…”

As if she heard him, Katara looks up from her conversation with Toph and looks over to the kitchen window, catching sight of the banished prince.  He watches at her jaw drops and quickly says something to the girl at the table, and gets up.  Making her way towards the kitchen window.

Zuko’s eyes widen as he ducks under the counter and prays she’s smarter than to try and confront him in public.

“Wow, and here I thought you were too good to get down with us mere peasants.”  Her voice carries through the kitchen, gaining a hearty laugh from the older gentleman in the room.

“You must be the young waterbender.  My name is Iroh, but you may call me uncle Iroh.”  The older man reaches a hand out to Katara and she shakes it gently.  

“ My name is Katara.”  She replies.  She lets go of Iroh’s hand and crouches down to Zuko’s level.

“Nice hiding spot.”  Her blue eyes lighting up with amusement.

Zuko crosses his arms and looks away indigently, “Why are you here, waterbender?”

She sighs before settling on the floor, folding her legs beneath herself, “I could ask the same from you.  But given the recent reward notices for your head, It’s safe to say you’re also on the run.”

This seems to catch the princes attention, “Notices?  Where?”

Katara reaches into her pocket and pulls out a folded up piece of scroll and hands it to him.  She watches as his eyes scan the paper before burning it to a crisp.

“Hey!  That wasn’t your’s to burn!”

“What?”  he tosses the ashes onto the floor, not caring he’ll be the one to clean it later.  “Needed something to remember me by?”  He teases.

Katara rolls her eyes, “No.  If you must know, Sokka wanted it just in case we got caught by your men.  Well, you ex-men I suppose.  Why did they turn on you?”

He looks away not waiting to rehash the last two weeks to her.  It’d been difficult to lose his fleet of ships and men after his sister became involved in the hunt for the Avatar.  It was his only shot at regaining his honor and as always, his little sister had to come in and take it away from him.

Noticing the mood change, Iroh interrupts the teens on the floor, “Master Katara, may I interest you and your friend over there a cup of jasmine tea?  It’s today’s special.”

Katara smiles and stans up from the floor.

“That would be lovely.”

She watches as Iroh takes a tea kettle and two cups and leaves the kitchen, giving her an opportunity to speak with Zuko alone.

“Zuko.”

“Lee.”

Katara looks at him skeptically, “What?”

Zuko rolls his eyes, “I go by Lee here.  It’s so no one knows who I am.”

After a moment of silence, Katara starts to laugh.  This angers the firebender, making him stand up and get in her face.

“What’s so funny, water peasant?”

Trying to catch her breath, she steps closer to him and reaches her hand out to brush her thumb across his burnt cheek.

Lowly, she mutters “I don’t think you can really hide all of you from people.”

Without thought, he leans into her cool hand enjoying the sensation of her being there with him.  He reaches out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, and caressed her jaw before his hand falls to his side.

“It seem that I’m not the only one trying to hide, even with obvious physical differences.”

Katara smirks and pulls away from him, “Yeah, well.  There was this crazy prince chasing us the past few months.”

They both chuckle before stepping away from each other and Iroh waves for Katara to have a seat at her table.

“I guess I’ll-“

“We’ll probably see-“

The both stare at one another not sure what either one were going to say.

Zuko steps forward again and brushes a soft kiss across her cheek this time and leans towards her ear, “Until next time, Master Katara.”

He watches as she touches her reddening cheek slightly and mutters a quick “goodbye” and heads back to her table.

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

“Please, stop!  You don’t have to do this, Zuko!”  Katara uses the nearby stream to create her octopus arms.  She deflects the fast moving flames from Zuko’s hands as they neared her from all directions.

Zuko stood his ground, ignoring her cries for reprieve, and  summons all the fire within him and thrusting it towards Katara, knowing it’d be a fatal blow.  Much to his surprise, she uses her arms to deflect most of the flames.  The small cry she lets out as a flame singes the side of her neck makes him sick to his stomach.

I’m so sorry, Katara.  I hope you can forgive me one day.

“Zuzu, I’m bored.  Let’s go.”  Azula brushes her finely manicured nails against her armor and turns away from the fallen Avatar.  Katara realizes the retreating army and makes her way over to her fallen friend.  Picking up Aang gingerly, she looks across to Zuko.  His expression unreadable, but his clenched fists is enough for her to know he can feel everything.

“Why, Zuko!  Why would you betray me like this.  I was your friend!”  Zuko turns away, hearing the words rip from her throat, coming from deep within her chest.  He knows there’s tears streaming down her soft dark cheeks, her hair loose around her shoulder knotted from their fight, and her heart…as broken as his.

Azula’s head falls back letting out a wicked laugh, “Oh you poor thing.  Thinking the Prince of the Fire Nation would befriend a mere water peasant.”  Azula walks forward, but is met with a wall of water that is turned to ice.

“Oooh an ice wall, very clever water trash.  But not for long!”  Azula spreads her arms forming blue fire between them.  As she’s about to thrust forward Zuko blasts Azula with a fire ball, sending her into the side of the cave.  Her head comes in contact with one of the crystals, knocking her out cold.  The Earth Kingdom solders crowd around her before lifting her and retreating from the cave.  Zuko looks back at the wall of ice, seeing Katara and Aang were long gone.

“Uncle?”  Zuko peers around the room waiting for his uncle to be happy he has restored his honor, but is met with Fire Nation guards holding him hostage, kneeling on the ground forcefully.

Slowly, the older firebender raises his head.  The look of disappointment evident in his tired amber eyes.

“Prince Zuko, you have made a great enemy tonight.”

Confusion must’ve shown across his face, for his uncle clarified his statement, “For the heart can break and mend, but the cracks will forever remain.”

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

Being back at the palace was not what it seemed.  Zuko was finally accepted by his father; letting him sit in on war meetings, eating together in the grand hall, and the Fire Nation citizens treating him with respect and love.  He had his honor back and yet he still felt so empty.  Azula suggested dating her friend Mai as a distraction from the ‘water peasant’.

Mai is great, but she doesn’t care for anything.  He gives her a shell on Ember Island, she thinks it cheesy and stupid.  He picks her Fire Roses from his mother’s garden and she laughs, seeing plants as repulsive gifts, and when they go out to dinner, she doesn’t like to chitchat.

It makes him yearn more and more for the waterbender.  He sees her eyes in the ocean water of Ember Island.  Her voice is in the chimes when a soft breeze drifts by, singing from the beach house steps.  And the moon, the biggest reminder of them all.  He lays in the sand night after night staring up at the night sky, enamored by the moon’s light and the stars that glitter across the sky.  He knew she was up at this time, watching the moon as he did…

Rolling over on Appa, Katara struggles to sleep with the full moon high in the sky.  She scratches at her throat, feelings the fresh wrinkled skin scabbing over from her burns.  Caressing the skin, she feels her throat tighten, a fresh new wave of tears slowly starting to fall.

She wanted to be angry at him, she really did.  But she couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him like she had before.  They understood each other too well, especially after the Crystal Catacombs.  She was this close to healing his biggest insecurity, the truest way of ridding him of his past and move forward as a better man.

But he chose his honor.

He chose to betray her for his chance to be back in his father’s good graces.  Rolling onto her back, Katara lets her eyes wander across the night sky.  They were somewhere in a forest, away from any civilization knowing they could not trust many people.

Once Aang was better, they were able to leave the Fire Nation ship and continue their journey.  Sokka tried to figure out why Katara was acting distant, making sure to go to bed early and wake before them to avoid speaking with them.

Deep down, she knew Sokka knows something happened back in Ba Sing Se between her and Zuko, but he refuses to ask his little sister.  And for that, she was eternally grateful.

She didn’t think she could explain to her brother she had fallen for the banished Prince.

Stupid, arrogant, honor hungry…compassionate, handsome prince.

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

It’s been a week since Zuko has joined the ‘Gaang’ at the Western Air Temple, and Katara refuses to be anywhere near the once again banished prince.  No matter how many times he tries to get her alone, she refuses to speak with him.  And even if he does get her alone, he forgets what he wants to say, and Katara keeps her mouth shut in hope the awkward silence will drive him away.  This works for the first week, but then he changed tactic.

When she first saw him again, she felt her heart jump into her throat.  The feelings she thought were locked away deep in her soul were reignited and came bursting through.  But with that reignited emotion, she was able to turn it into anger and hatred.  But his stupid long shaggy hair, and her discovery of his chiseled muscles made it hard for her to think clearly.

And he notices this the second week he’s with his new found family.

While teaching Aang a new firebending technique, he decided to discard his tunic since the sun was high, making the usually moderate temperature temple a bit sweltering that day.  Katara just happened to walk across the temple grounds at the same time.  He always knew when she was around, and between fighting techniques, he glanced at Katara noticing she stopped in her tracks.  Her eyes trained on Zuko as he moved fire with a controlled grace.  

This set motion for his plan the following week.

He knew Katara would wash their clothing in the fountain in the eastern side of the temple.  It was easy to convince the Airbender to train near that part of the temple, giving some lame excuse that the sun was the most powerful in that location.

After sparring with Aang for a few moments, Zuko made sure he has gained attention from the young woman washing clothing in the fountain.  He first notices Katara takes small glances in their direction from time to time. Then it would turn to her changing her position at the fountain so she was facing them while reaching into the water to lather the clothing.

When Zuko takes off his tunic, he could hear the clothing in Katara’s hands fall suddenly into the water.  He smirks to himself before turning around to face the Avatar again, but taking a quick glance in Katara’s direction, seeing her eyes widen.  She realizes she was caught staring before reaching into the fountain for the forgotten clothing.

Zuko chuckles to himself and continues to teach Aang a few more firebending movements before calling it a day.  Aang quickly hurries off, saying Toph wanted to teach him how to open craters in the ground, leaving Zuko and Katara alone.

After being caught by Zuko, Katara tried her best to keep her eyes averted.  Focusing solely at the task at hand, she didn’t notice the person sitting on the lip of the fountain, casually reaching into the water to cool their heated body.

“So,”  Zuko’s deep voice breaks through the silence.  “Did you enjoy the show?”

Katara gasps, realizing Zuko snuck up on her.  “Hey!  Don’t scare me like that!”  She throws Sokka’s wet pants at the firebender, but he caught them effortlessly before tossing them aside.

“Ha!  I got you to talk to me.”  He smirks, watching a slight blush dust across Katara’s cheeks.  She quickly looks away and huffs in frustration.

“You scared me, that isn’t exactly fair.”

“Ah.  But you see,” he walks around the fountain, seeing that she is gazing at his chest before meeting his eyes once he’s settled next to her.  “We’re still talking.  And you haven’t attempted to keep quiet.  Why is that?”  Her smirks, knowing well enough why she is talking to him.  She needed a distraction from her distraction.

Stupid shirtless firebender!

She huffs as she continues to clean the rest of the clothing, “Look, there’s nothing to talk about.  So why bother holding a conversation with someone who clearly has their own interests in mind instead anyone else’s.”

Ouch.

Zuko nods in understanding, knowing where she is coming from.  He didn’t expect her to be accepting of his sudden presence, but he assumed she’d warm up to him sooner rather than later.  And it seems she wants to take her sweet time about it too.

Another silence falls upon them, but this time it’s comfortable, unlike the other times when the tension was thick enough to send anyone in a three miles radius into the opposite direction.

Zuko doesn’t think before reaching out to cup Katara’s chin his warm pale hand.  Her eyes slowly meet his amber gaze.  He watches as a single traitorous tear falls down her cheek, making his own throat tighten with emotion.

“Katara…”  Without warning, she pulls him into a tight hug.  Her sobs muffled in his chest as he wraps his arms around her pulling her closer to him.  He kisses her head before smoothing back her hair from her face and runs his hand up and down her back.  She clutches his body close to hers, hoping he’d never leave her again.

Once her sobs die down, she pulls slightly back from Zuko.  Their arms still wrapped around one another, but enough space for them to see each other’s faces.

Zuko reaches out and brushes the remaining tears from her face, causing a small smile to grace her lip.  But as soon as it appeared, it dissolves and the moment between the two is shattered once Katara pulls away to wrap her arms around herself.

“Zuko…I need some time to fully forgive you.  What you did…”  her voice breaking thinking about the pain she suffered from the past two months.  “…I-I don’t know what I need, but I don’t hate you.  I just- ”  She throws her hands not knowing how to explain how she feels, but Zuko gets it.

“I betrayed you when you needed me most, and I turned my back on you.  I know I should have chosen you over Azula and my father, but the need to restore my honor outweighed any consequences.  At least for a moment.”  Zuko stares off into the sky, seeing mountains in the distance and a few birds flying in circles.

“But hearing your voice…what I did to you.”  He reaches out and touches her scarred throat lightly, feeling her shiver at the contact, and lets his hand fall back into his lap.  “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.  I chose wrong.  And I lost everything I cared about.”

Katara’s ears perk at his words, “You…you care about me?”

He shyly smiles, running a hand through his hair and looking down at his feet.  “Is that truly hard to believe?”

“No, Zuko.  It’s not.”  She cups the side of his cheek, raising his eyes to meet hers.  “I can’t trust you completely until you’ve proven yourself.”  He felt his heart sink.  He knew it’d be a tough fight, but he knows she’s worth it.

She steps closer to him again, letting her hand drop to his shoulder, “ But do know, I never stopped caring for the banished prince who tied me to a tree.”  

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

The pain was unimaginable, shooting through his chest waking every fiber of his being.  He’s redirected lightening before, but never at an indirect angle.

She could have died.

The thought constant in Zuko’s mind as he leaned on Katara as they walked to the palace.  They awaited news from their friends if they were victorious.  But the longer they waited, the more they feared the worst.

Zuko ignored the pain in his chest needing to stay alert just in case his father was victorious.  He and Katara were the backup plan if things started to go south, but by the looks of it, there were no urgent messenger hawks being flown in.  It was a good sign.

Katara paced his room, creating a light flurry in her path.

“Katara,”  Zuko tried to sit up in bed, but was met by her cool hands pushing him gently down to his pillows.

“What did I say about moving?”  she scolds him in frustration.  She reaches to removing his robe to check on his wound.  Her eyes widen realizing it was bleeding again.  “Why didn’t you tell me it was hurting you!  You’re bleeding!”  Quickly, she rushes to his bathroom to get a bowl of water and bandages and sets them down at his bed side.

He watches as her hands start to glow a light blue as the water attaches to her palms.  Slowly, she moves her hands over his chest rhythmically.  Her delicate fingers erasing the pain from his aching chest.

“Mmm..”  His eyes start to grow heavy.  He tries to fight the exhaustion sweeping across his body, but the soft humming coming from Katara, as she continues to heal him, helps lull him to sleep.

Watching Zuko finally relax, Katara finishes healing him properly.  She reaches for the bandages next to the bowl and wraps them around his torso.  It was difficult to get around him while he slept, but she needed to make sure his wound would heal properly.  Weighing her options, she decided it was best to try and sit him up and bandage him.

From where she sat on the chair next to his bed, she wasn’t sure how to approach this.  After a minute she decided it was best to straddle his waist and pull him up slightly to wrap the bandages around him securely.

Getting up from the ground, Katara placed the bandages on the bed and throws her leg over Zuko’s waist and settled on his lap.  She felt her cheeks burn, knowing she was in a compromising position with the soon to be Fire Lord.  But it was for his health.   Right?  Right.

As she reached forward to pull the bandages around his body, Zuko shifted in his sleep causing Katara to fall onto the bed with a squeal.  In his sleep, Zuko reaches out and pulls Katara to himself, and tangles their legs together.  Katara’s heart races realizing how bad this could be if Zuko were to wake up.

Katara blows some of her hair out of her face as she reaches around Zuko to grab the bandages.  At least from this angle she has the ability to properly wrap the bandages around him.  After she secures the last wrapping around him, she ties the front of his robe and lets her head fall back onto the pillow.

Maybe I’ll close my eyes for a few minutes.

She tries to shift away from Zuko, but his grip tightens on her.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Katara freezes.  She looks up to Zuko’s face noticing his eyes were still closed.

He’s obviously still asleep.

As if hearing her thoughts, his eyes open a fraction, the soft ember gliding across her face seeing that she’s really there.  He shift back on the pillows to let her head rest on his chest.  The rhythm of his heart faster than it was mere moments ago.  His arm comes up to stroke her loose curls, tangling his fingers through the dark locks.  His other arm wrapping around her waist, locking her in place against him.

She feels herself get pulled into the enticing darkness of sleep.  But before she reaches unconscious bliss with the heat from Zuko beneath her, she hears him speak softly.

“I didn’t know how much the sun needed the moon.”

He felt Katara shift in his arms, moving her hand to cup the side of his cheek.  He could feel her breath against his face as her nose brushes his lightly.  His breathing hitches in his throat as she closes the space between them.

Katara kisses Zuko softly before pulling back and laying her head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

“The moon will always follow the sun until the end of eternity.”  She whispers as her breathing evens out.

Zuko smiles, finally understanding his uncle after all this time.

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

After the fall of Fire Lord Ozai and the rise of Fire Lord Zuko, the four nations were once again reunite.  After a few years, word spread that the new Fire Lord was taking a wife of the Southern Water Tribe.  The people of all nations cheered for the union between two nations, bearing witness to the rebirth of their entire world.

The End.

[joon-bugs]

Crush

~I’m late (as usual) but this is in commemoration of Jungkook’s birthday! No matter what age he will always be our baby Kookie. Let me know if there are any ideas you guys have for future stories, and enjoy!~  

 ‘He looked so small kneeling at your feet. His grown out hair was pulled back into a low bun, a detail you had overseen previously. A few shorter strands hadn’t made the cut and were haphazardly strewn over his forehead, covering his wide doe eyes. The image would have been so innocent if not for your nakedness.’ 

word count: 3,268 

pairing: Jungkook/Reader 

genre: smut 

warnings: swearing, first time oral (male giving, female receiving), Taehyung being an ass, (more) couch staining, slight violence, baby boi Jungkook, slightly submissive Jungkook, unprotected sex 

If there was anything nice to say about Kim Taehyung, it was that he gave good head. Okay scratch that. He gave phenomenal head. He delivered toe curling pleasure like it was his damn job and knew it.  The only flaw with him was the fact he was a major ass. Taehyung or 'Taehoney' as he was dubbed, was a cocky bastard with a pretty face. He reveled in getting off men and women, collecting in the reward of bragging about it while receiving reverence and sometimes money from his classmates. Getting on his knees was a hobby that benefited him in more ways than one, and he was perfectly content to break down the recipient of his efforts. Today, it just so happened to be you. 

Honestly, you didn't know why Taehyung had given you the time of day. You weren't his type by any standard, preferring the silence and seclusion of the library to the rowdy atmosphere of your apartment. Having three roommates only sounded like a good idea from a money perspective. It didn't help they all liked to smoke and drink, which usually led to them inviting friends over. And being really really loud. So the library had thus become your hideaway, away from the world. 

Maybe one of your  roommates had told him about you, put you on his radar, painting a target on your back. That could have been the only explanation as to why he weaved through the rows of paperbacks, only to plop down at the furthest table, which you happened to be seated. All he had to do was smile and extend his hand. 

"I'm Taehyung. Nice to meet you." 

You were done for, caught in his net the moment he opened his mouth. 

Somehow in the span of an hour Taehyung convinced you to study at his place, ensuring you that his roommate would be out. Like a lamb to slaughter you agreed, your backpack seeming heavier as you followed him home. 

Taehyung was sly, quick to offer you a seat on the small loveseat, making no move to squeeze next to you. He instead crossed his legs, sinking to the floor by your feet. You were grateful for the space, the air already suffocating in the emptiness of the apartment. 

You'd just started to take out your things when a touch startled you, and you looked down only to see the red haired boy grinning, his fingers inching up your shorts. Maybe the whole situation would have been avoided if it was colder, if the weather called for sweatpants or a parka. Or maybe it was ineffable, fated by some twisted deity. Either way Taehyung had gotten between your legs, and it was taking all of your willpower not to scream. 

"Tae-Taehyung...I don't-understand." You panted through clenched teeth, tossing your head to the ceiling, your fists balled. He came up for air to bite a chunk of your thigh, and you released a sound between a shriek and a gasp. 

"There’s nothing to understand Y/N. Enjoy the ride baby." He laughed, enjoying himself. You canted your hips when he resumed his actions and latched onto his hair unconsciously. You glanced down to watch him work and marveled at the contrast between your skin and his fiery locks. The scarlet letter came to mind and you scoffed, thinking of the symbolism. Guess that made Taehyung a harlot. 

“What’s so funny hmm?” His eyes met yours and you turned red, noticing his dripping chin. Was all that really from you? 

“N-nothing. Just thinking.” You gave a half hearted reply, hoping it was enough. His lips poked out in a pout. 

“I would hope you were thinking about me..and I don’t think what I’m doing is very funny. I’d rather have you begging than laughing.” He sounded upset. 

“Tae-“ 

“Time to work more of my magic then.” 

Taehyung grabbed your butt and yanked you closer, your thighs cradling his skull. He wrapped his lips around your clit suddenly and sucked hard. You yelped, back bowing off the couch, mouth open, eyes wide. He chuckled, the air stimulating you further. 

“That’s more like it sweetheart. Show me how you fall apart.” He lowered his voice, sending chills up your spine. The noises that followed were absolutely sinful, loud and obscene. Your legs were beginning to shake, the coil in your belly tightening. Taehyung’s nails dug into your thighs and you just knew there would be marks. You took in a big breath, the pressure rising. 

“I think I’m-“ 

“What the hell?! 

You shot up, pulling Taehyung’s hair to get him off. He resisted at first, content to continue despite the audience, until he realized you weren’t letting up. He sighed loudly and looked over his shoulder, still holding you spread eagle. 

“Oh you’re back early. Game finish early Kook?” Taehyung had a bored tone, a complete 180 from his earlier persona. You furrowed your brow at the nickname. Why did it sound so familiar..? You slowly scanned your eyes up the newcomer’s legs, taking in the toned definition of their thighs, all the way up to a pronounced chest and wide neck. You noticed the scar on his cheek and the small mole on his chin. Oh god. It was Jeon Jungkook. The best athlete on campus who so happened to be your biggest crush. Your crush who had just witnessed you getting tongue fucked by his roommate. You should’ve ran. If not for the mortification burning through your blood, you would have. 

Jungkook grit his teeth, glaring daggers at Taehyung who gave him a cheeky grin. 

“Sorry you caught me in the middle of something. Let me finish up then we can get lunch.” He talked as if he were discussing the weather. Jungkook dropped the duffel bag he'd been holding and charged forward to wrench Taehyung back by his shoulders. He fell on his back with a thud, the impact hard enough for a side table to shake. 

“What the f-” 

“You’re a real piece of shit ya know that?!” Jungkook yelled, standing over Taehyung with his hands in tight fists. You’d never seen the younger look so angry before. Taehyung scowled before standing to brush off his pants. 

“What’s the problem man? You act like this is the first time you’ve walked in on me working.” Working? It's not like I’m paying him. 

“That’s what this is? Bullshit. You’re telling me she came to you? That’s low even for you.” Jungkook got in his roommate’s face, breathing heavily. You wondered why he was so upset. 

“What? Hard to believe miss goody two shoes would ask for my services? I mean-” Taehyung scoffed, looking proud, “Could you blame her?” The situation was getting way out of hand and you chatised yourself for ever coming to the apartment. You crossed your ankles and shivered, debating on snatching up your shorts, but too afraid to move. 

“Im gonna beat your ass.” Jungkook’s threat was quiet and firm.  Despite only being able to see the back of Taehyung’s head you imagined the giant eye roll he gave Jungkook. 

“Oooo what a tough guy. Grow up Jeon. Tell me the real reason you're mad. It's because I can do what you can't. Make a girl come on my tong-” Taehyung’s head quickly connected with the drywall as his body was slammed up against it. You felt the weight of the attack as if it was aimed at you. Fistfuls of Taehyung’s shirt was bunched and twisted in Jungkook’s grasp, the two roommate's faces nose to nose.                    

“You knew damn well I would be home early, I should-” 

“What? Hit me? C’mon show us what a real man you are.” Taehyung licked his lips, enjoying his taunting. You saw Jungkook’s jaw twitch and knew you had to step in. 

“Wait! Don’t..don’t.” You pleaded lamely, becoming red as the two men turned to stare. Jungkook seemed to soften and hesitated a moment before shoving himself away from Taehyung. 

“Cute Jeon. Real cute.” Taehyung chuckled, adjusting his clothes. He fixed up the mussed section of his hair and tossed you a wink, before turning towards the door. 

“Sorry I couldn’t finish you off Y/N. But maybe Kook could help you out..” He threw the words over his shoulder, slamming the door behind him, leaving the apartment silent once more. Jungkook’s gaze was glued to Taehyung’s disappearing form for a moment and you took this time to bend down to grab your pants, trying to be as subtle as possible. You began to undo the row of buttons on the front but paused after hearing Jungkook mutter. 

“Are you..okay?” You were hesitant to ask and flinched when the boy’s head whipped around and his eyes bore into yours. Your earlier task forgotten, all you could do was stare back, watching as Jungkook mumbled something else under his breath, seeming distracted. 

“S-sorry for being here, I’ll just go.” His attention was making you nervous and it didn’t help that your lower half was exposed. It was not how you wanted your first encounter with him to go. His look turned hard then and he clenched his jaw, approaching you swiftly. You jumped back, pressing your body further into the couch, head dizzy at the unexpected move. Oh god he must be really mad. You anticipated that he would yell and throw you out, never to speak to you again. Clenching your eyes you waited, breath held. 

“I’ll show him.” The words were soft, quiet. You slowly opened your eyes, confused for a second, not seeing Jungkook in front of you. It was only when you felt a waft of warm air graze your legs, did you realize where he had gone. 

He looked so small kneeling at your feet. His grown out hair was pulled back into a low bun, a detail you had overseen previously. A few shorter strands hadn’t made the cut and were haphazardly strewn over his forehead, covering his wide doe eyes. The image would have been so innocent if not for your nakedness. And his staring. Right at your crotch. 

“Um..Jungkook?”  

“He did this to get back at me.” He said, leaning forward, letting his fingertips travel up your legs. You clenched them, keeping them closed for modesty’s sake. Omg Jeon Jungkook is touching me omg omg. You were internally losing your cool. Jungkook continued. 

“He can never just take an apology, always gotta act like a dick-” 

“Taehyung?” You were baffled at the lack of context to his rambling. He paused in his exploration, but his eyes never moved. 

“He knew I liked you Y/N. That’s why he wanted to get you here alone.” Shame flooded your face and you gasped audibly, realizing just how big of a dumbass you were. 

“You..like me?” Probably not anymore you whore. 

He looked up at you then and gave you a shy smile, looking much younger than you knew he was. 

“Y-Yeah. I was..too shy to tell you.” He looked away, reverting his attention back to your closed privates. Who would have thought someone as outgoing and sporty as Jungkook would actually be bashful? 

“I like you too Jungkook.” The confession escaped your mouth faster than you could think and you waited with baited breath, wondering how he might react. What you weren’t expecting was for him to heave a huge sigh and plant a kiss to the top of your leg. 

“Good.” He breathed, warming your skin, while his free hands circled your knees. You bit your bottom lip, trying not to release any noises. The warmth moved high, dangerously close to your core. You wrapped your arms around yourself, both embarrassed and turned on. 

“Can I make you feel good Y/N? Can I touch you?” Jungkook seemed nervous himself now, his voice wavering. Yes. God yes. Is what you wanted to say. You ended up with something a little less eloquent. 

“Um..sure. Make me feel good Kookie.” His eyes flashed at the nickname and he parted your legs open in a single move. Cold air assaulted your nether regions and you shivered, feeling your wetness already cooling. Jungkook hesitantly ran a finger up your folds, swiping some of the arousal pooling there. You flinched at his touch, watching as he brought the coated limb to his lips, poking his tongue out to taste. 

“Wow. That’s how you taste.” With his voice neutral you were unsure whether he was complimenting you or if he was disgusted. You soon got an idea of what his answer would be when Jungkook lowered his head, picking up where Taehyung left off. 

His inexperience was obvious by the hesitant flicks of his tongue and by the lack of rhythm in his ‘technique.’ Nevertheless tingles started to surface within you and you squirmed at the feeling. 

“Am I hurting you?” Jungkook looked up at you with a concerned expression, eyelashes nearly brushing the bottom of his eyebrow. You swallowed and shook your head, unbelieving of what was happening. How he could manage to look so cute while he was going down on you was a mystery. 

“I’ve never..done this before.” He admitted after a pause, his cheeks dusting with color. 

“I could help you, if-if that’s cool. You can stop-” 

“No. I want too Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” God you shouldn’t have felt such a rush at his compliance but you did. You guided him back down, finding enough confidence to place your hand on his head. A sudden thought popped into your mind. 

“Hey Jungkook? Could you maybe undo your bun? I want to touch your hair.” He’s gonna think you’re a freaking weirdo now great. 

Wordlessly he removed the elastic without pause, flinging the tie across the room without coming up for air. You let out a trembling breath, weaving your fingers through his hair, marveling at its softness. Jungkook hummed, sending a shock of vibrations and you bucked into his face, nails digging into his scalp. 

“Oh!” Gasping for breath you tried to control the rocking of your hips, eyes swiveling in every direction to find something to lock onto too, until they settled on the man on the ground. His own body was reacting similar to yours, lower part pressing up against the couch. He was humping the furniture like a dog in heat and you felt your arousal grow at his neediness. When his lips discovered the small bundle of nerves and started sucking you hissed through your teeth, clenching your jaw so tight it hurt. At this rate you were going to come hard and fast. 

Jung-ah! Kook!” The heaving of your chest distorted your exclamation but he seemed to hear you. 

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His pupils were blown, dark enough to match his hair. The ceiling light caught the reflection of your juices on his chin and you could only conjure up images of everywhere else you wanted his mouth to be. 

“N-no. Please Jungkook. I need you up here.” Now who’s the needy one? 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea I’m..” Hard. 

“I know. I know.” You grasped his face and coaxed him to join you, bringing your lips together messily, not minding the taste of yourself on him. He was still before coming alive, grasping the back of your neck to intensify the kiss. It was sloppy and loud but you were burning from the inside out, Jungkook a craving you had dreamed of indulging in. You pulled him down on top of you, your head meeting the armrest. In this position you could feel his straining length on your bare thigh and you were grateful you were already prepped. Otherwise there was no way he was fitting inside you without it being painful. You reached down to palm him through the joggers, feeling him twitch and lean into your touch. 

“I know this is so sudden and I literally just confessed but can I-ah-fuck you?” He was huffing, breath raspy and hot on the shell of your ear. His politeness only made him more endearing, and you laughed. 

“Yes. Please.” 

With your spoken consent Jungkook hastily shimmied his pants off, revealing he wasn’t wearing any underwear. You stared at the mass before you, watching as it curved to rest on his hoodie. The tip was leaking, the rest of him red and ready. Jungkook saw your expression and froze. 

“If you aren’t sure Y/N-” 

You wrapped a hand around him to silence him and he choked, only coming back into himself when you positioned him at your entrance. 

“Fuck me or I’ll call Taehyung to do it for you.”  

Jungkook slammed home, spurned on by your taunting and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. He was big. Bigger than you initially thought, and tears sprang in the corner of your eyes at the harsh intrusion. Jungkook began to thrust sharply, couch groaning under the fast movements. He had his eyes closed, lip captured between his teeth, completely lost in the moment. You hit his arm until he refocused on you, blinking away the wetness in your eyes. 

“Ah-let me-ah-on top. You’re too big.” Jungkook looked apologetic and pulled out, rolling over quickly. His whole body twitched, as if he was still inside you, sweat caked on his skin.

You brought your knees onto the side of his and took him in your hands once more, easing yourself down inch by excruciating inch until he was bottomed out, and you were full. Jungkook jerked then, hitting a spot that had you cry out and you begged for him to do it again. He grabbed your hips hesitantly, only gripping you tighter when you rocked against him, desperate for the friction. Soon the two of you were panting and grinding, tugging on the tops that remained but eventually giving up because neither of you could stand to be any more patient. Jungkook watched through lidded eyes as you bounced on him, letting on high whines that mimicked your own. You were getting tired, nowhere near as athletic as he was and started to slow, panting but trying to reach your end. Jungkook seemed to know of your dilemma because he planted his feet and increased his pace, ramming into you harder and faster than before. You held on to the front of his hoodie, unable to meet his thrusts anymore, only holding on as he brought you both to climax. 

You came first, your inner walls fluttering around him as you threw your head back, letting the intense orgasm wash over you. You collapsed on Jungkook’s chest, body spasming as he let out a yell, thrusting two, three more times, before finishing deep inside you. You felt the warmth of his seed and thanked god for the birth control you had started taking on a whim. Not that having a child with Jeon Jungkook was an unappealing idea. 

Your mouth was lead, thick and dry in your mouth, your limbs jelly. Holy shit I just slept with my crush and it was amazing. You cuddled his hoodie, despite how hot you felt , sighing in content when his arm came to pull you closer. 

“Hey Y/N.” 

“Hm?” 

“Want to grab lunch after this?” 

“Is this you asking me on a date?” You smiled, suppressing a chuckle. There was a pause. 

“Yeah. I am.” He did laugh, and you silently thanked Taehyung for bringing you two together, even if it hadn’t been under the best circumstances. 

Written by Rose 

[goldeneyedgirl]

Ficathon: Mad World

I’ve spent today on uni work and chipping away on Shadow to Light, so instead of a prompt fic, have a sample of one of my WIPs - this one is Mad World, a fic where Alice is the daughter of Charlie Swan’s estranged sister who goes to live with Bella and Charlie. It was an experiment in gothic horror/romance, tbh.

“If you don't know where you are going any road can take you there.” - Lewis Carroll

When I look up at the sky in Forks, I don’t see clouds. Or I do, but they’re obscured by leaves and branches; the forest stretches above me and it’s nice. Private and safe, even though it makes it feel a lot later and darker than it really is. It’s like we’re in a cocoon, and there’s no one else in the world.

I return to reality as his teeth rasp against my stomach, above my belly button, and I giggle, ticklish. I’m splayed across a rock, and it's scratching my back - my sweater is balled up in the dirt, and my shirt is pushed up above my bra.

My fingers twist in his hair and I smirk as he looks back up at me. Jasper Hale; who I sit next to in History and in Trig. His shirt hangs open, revealing a body that will be taking pride of place in my fantasies.

“You okay?” His voice is low and even, but his eyes are sharp. Dark, and watching me. For a moment, I see calculation and something I should react to. Something dangerous. Like he could kill me right here and now; fuck me and choke me; rip me into wet, meaty pieces; beat my skull into dust with a rock. This boy, this man, is dangerous, and I have invited him to get much, much closer. He could do whatever he wanted to me, and he wouldn’t be the first.

And I don’t care. That darkness, that rage, and potential for violence, I’m not scared of it. I haven’t been for a long time. It’s easier to consent than to resist. And more than that, I like that darkness. I like that sharp edge. And what I know of Jasper Hale, I like.

Whatever I am feeling twists and fades into the steady thrum of lust, of confidence and willingness.

“Absolutely nothing,” I say, and tug his hair to bring his face closer to mine.

And that’s how I spent my third afternoon in Forks; fooling around with Jasper Hale in the woods behind the high school auditorium.

—

It’s a rainy Thursday night when I finally, finally arrive in Forks. And in that moment, it is the most beautiful place on earth - the green of the forest, the grey of the rain, the fresh air. It is Shangri-La on Earth, and I am apart of it.

I left North Carolina on Monday, and since then have taken a bus, a train, another bus, another train, and a third bus. I have layers upon layers of deodorant and grime upon my skin; my phone is dead; my hair is greasy from the endless styling tutorials I looked up to combat boredom, and all I want is something to eat and a shower. Anything that isn’t itchy seats, never-ending road, or snack foods would be heaven upon earth at this moment.  

In truth, I don’t feel human anymore. I feel like a transient spirit, a modern-day gypsy, a lost girl. That for the rest of time, this will be my life - dirt and fuel and waiting for an end that never comes. But somehow, I have made it to Forks; the red ‘x’ on my photocopied map is finally a real place, with buildings and streets and people. Forks isn’t home, but it is the most welcoming sight I have had in years.  

I jump down from the bus; a backpack on my shoulder, a satchel across my chest and a duffle bag in one hand. For all intents and purposes, this is all I own in the world. Twenty-three dollars in my wallet, and my entire life in my bags. I could go anywhere I wanted, except twenty-three dollars won’t take me many places.

No one else on the bus carries as much luggage as I do, and no one is dressed alike either - I changed at the Seattle bus station into my second-to-last clean outfit, to try and make a good impression. Everyone else is wearing a jeans-parka-boots combination, which is probably smart with the horrible weather. Not that I will miss the hideous summers of North Carolina. But I get the sense that this bus is full of locals, who busted happened to be travelling from Port Angeles or Seattle. There’s something about them, like the green of the forest, the dirt and mud of the ground, the rainwater has sunken into their bodies and marked them invisibly as belonging to the town of Forks. I wonder if I’ll be here long enough to be marked too.

The bus station is the smallest I’ve been to on this whirlwind road trip - a tiny convenience store, a spinning rack of postcards, a payphone, and endless wooden benches.

Uncle Charlie is right there, waiting for me - sitting on a bench with a paper cup of coffee. Even if he hadn’t been wearing his uniform, I would have guessed he was my uncle. He doesn’t strictly look like my mother, but there is something in the way they carry themselves, the way that they fill space. I don’t know. I just know that he is definitely Mom’s little brother, one Chief Charlie Swan of Forks, WA.

My new guardian - saviour or gaoler is yet to be determined.

“Uncle Charlie!” I put a big smile on my face and march straight up to him - if life has taught me nothing else, it’s that first impressions count.  And not to piss off the person in charge of your welfare. “I’m Alice.”

Uncle Charlie looked up at me, and for a moment, just stared.

So, my outfit wasn’t the best first impression I could have picked. But it was the only one left that I could wear in public - my beloved, holey galaxy leggings; ancient floral Dr Martens that I had laced with pink ribbons; a giant purple and black sweater, and a black miniskirt. Combined with the pancake make-up I had used to cover up my blotchy-skin and dark under-eye circles, my greasy hair knotted in two buns with my collection of dollar-store butterfly clips, and the fact that I smelt like four days of bus, sweat, and fried food, I definitely looked like the devil child my mother probably portrayed me as.

“Mary Alice!” Uncle Charlie recovered. “How was your trip?” He smiled awkwardly and stood up.

“Long,” I said ruefully. “But I’m here now.”

—

Uncle Charlie tried to make conversation as we drove back to his place, as if a truncated game of ‘Twenty Questions’ could undo the awkwardness of not knowing about each other for seventeen years.

And it wasn’t like I could abridge my messy, ridiculous life story into a fifteen minute car trip, anyway. Or that Charlie Swan could become a beloved uncle between the bus station and his home.

Who was I?

I was Mary-Alice Brandon, eldest daughter of Annette Marie Swan-Ackerman, the only child of the late artist Nicholas Brandon. Resented step-daughter of Stephen Ackerman. A granddaughter and a niece and a half-sister. Former prisoner of a remote reform school. Epileptic. A secret keeper, and an artist.

How could I tell Uncle Charlie all the tiny details that made up me, and the reason I was here with him now?

That my mother is no Swan, but a chameleon, a snake, a cuckoo in the nest?

That the last of my stitches came out last week, but the scars still itch like crazy?

That I used to love gas-station slushies, especially pink ones, until I was twelve? That now I love soda, so cold it makes your brain and teeth hurt, and tastes like static?

And besides, what do I know about Charlie and my cousin? He’s a divorced police chief, and his daughter Isabella is also seventeen years old - five months older than me - and lives with him full-time. She attends the local public high school. That my grandparents are dead, and my ex-aunt has since remarried.

That’s it. That’s all I really know. And I am about to live with them.

If I think about it too much, it just feels like another trap.

—

The Swan house was small, but then, so were all the houses on the street. It was old, too, but I’d always known that was a probability. It didn’t make it easier, though. I’ve never done well in old houses. It needed a few repairs - the paint was peeling off, one of the shutters was hanging at an angle, and the front garden was dirt, grass, moss and ferns. Uncle Charlie struck me as a neat and practical kind of person, so this was surprising. But maybe in the spring, I could coax some kind of garden to life, as a way to say thank-you.

We walked in the backdoor, letting it swing shut behind us with a bang.  Inside, the hallway was narrow and dark, with stairs leading up, and a few aged pieces of art hung on the plaid walls - mostly landscapes, and several of fish that were very good, if hideously ugly.

The first thing my eye caught was the mantlepiece in the sitting room, above the fireplace - a shrine to a teenage girl who bore a startling resemblance to Mom.

“Wow,” I said, moving closer. The eyes, the smile, the brown hair - this had to be my cousin. “Is that Isabella?”

“Yeah, that’s Bells. She’s out with her boyfriend at the moment,” Uncle Charlie said, setting down my duffle bag.

“She looks just like Mom,” I said, amazed. It was uncanny - Bella looked more like Mom’s daughter than I did.

“I guess she does,” Uncle Charlie said. “Bells is much prettier than Annette was at that age - but that’s all Renee.”

Charlie sounded uncomfortable, and I had to admit to myself that I was uncomfortable hearing my mother’s name. Turning away from the photographs, I pasted a smile back on my face.

“Sorry, I’m easily distracted,” I said. “You were going to show me my room?”

“Yeah. It’s not much,” Uncle Charlie began. “It’s pretty small…”

“You’re taking me in. That makes everything else perfect,” I said firmly, grabbing my backpack again. “Lead the way.”

—

Well.

Uncle Charlie had warned me that my bedroom was tiny.

It was more than tiny – more like a large alcove with glass doors. The walls were off-white, and a square window looked over a tiny yard and the forest. A narrow bed was wedged against the wall, made up with a hideous yellow bedspread. A dresser was arranged against the wall between the bed and doors. Opposite the dresser was a tiny desk and chair. Jammed in the gap at the end of the bed, next to the desk, was an old laundry hamper.

I was betting I could touch the window and the door with my arms outstretched.

Luckily I was used to small living spaces. I wasn’t sharing with anyone; that was enough to make up for the fact that this room would have been a better closet. Or window box. Apparently, Uncle Charlie had used it as an office when he needed to bring work home.

I set my bags on the bed. This was going to be my home for the next year and a half. It felt overwhelming all of a sudden, that I would be living with an uncle and cousin I had never even met before. It wasn’t like school, where I had shared a room with seven other girls, and we’d all been strangers.

I could do this.

It was only eighteen months. I had been away at school nearly three times that long, and if I could survive school, I could survive living at Uncle Charlie’s.

I had intended to unpack and settle in before dinner, but in the end, I just changed into some pyjamas, shoved my bags under the bed, and fallen asleep nearly instantly. I didn’t wake up until much later, almost midnight, starving and disorientated. I crept out of my room, making a note to buy some kind of curtains for the glass doors to give myself some privacy.

Uncle Charlie and my cousin were clearly already asleep, so I got myself a glass of water. There was a note scrawled out for me, telling me to help myself to food, and that they’d see me tomorrow. I felt bad for vanishing without spending time with them or even meeting Bella, but there wasn’t much I could do about that now.

The house was quiet in the darkness, but I used my phone to carefully navigate - and look around. The shrine held a wedding photo of a much-younger Charlie, and the woman who was my ex-aunt; a sad memento when I knew that Uncle Charlie had been divorced for quite a long time. An off-brand recliner sat near a small, out-of-date television, the remote on top of a TV guide, with various sports matches circled in pen. Several pairs of shoes sat by the front door - my cousin was clearly a strong supporter of Converse sneakers.

The leftovers in the fridge looked kind of suspect – some luminous mac and cheese, a chicken that was nearly picked clean, and some greasy looking Chinese. I ended up slapping some peanut butter on some bread, and drinking nearly half a carton of milk, before vanishing back into my new ‘bedroom’ for some more sleep.  

Peering out of the uncovered window into the night, I could see beyond the fence line into the black of the forest. The tops of the trees cut the bottom half of the sky off perfectly, like an old-fashioned silhouette. It was strange to imagine my mother living in this kind of town, growing up here. But then, I had a hard time picturing my dad and her being married, too.

Lying back, I stared out at the night sky, the slow movement of clouds over the stars lulling me back to sleep.

[nctxnation]

Serendipity

➳ Pairing: Johnny Seo x Female Reader

➳ Genre: Romance | Fake Dating AU

➳ Word Count: 3.5k

➳ Serendipity (n): finding something nice while looking for something else

“You’re drooling.”

“Huh?” You turned your head to the side the flashing lights of the television blinding you momentarily.

“You got a little something right there,” Your best friend Johnny said pointing at the corner of your lip, “Is the movie that boring?”

“Oh, shut up,” You nudged him with your shoulder, simultaneously rubbing off the nonexistent drool. “I’m just sleepy. Finals are really stressing me out, all I do is breathe and study.”

“Ditto,” Johnny said grabbing a chunk of popcorn and shoving it grossly into his mouth, “Professor Lee has been getting on my ass for sleeping in class, but I’ve been studying so much for other classes I have no time to sleep.”

“We should probably get some sleep,” You jumped onto the balls of your feet, stretching the soreness out of your muscles and raising your arms high. “At least we can sleep peacefully during Winter Break.”

“Yeah, speaking of Winter Break,” Johnny turned off the television and draped the blanket you two were using over his shoulders, “my mom wants me to visit.”

“That’s nice,” You smiled knowing how much Johnny missed his family. “You can spend time with your family.”

“Yeah, but you see…” He drawled on, avoiding your inquisitive stare.

“What is it Johnny?” You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, urging him to spit it out.

“My mom sort of thinks I have a girlfriend,” He blurted sheepishly, his cheeks taking on a pretty rosy hue that reached his neck and ears.

“Oh.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes and face turning redder, “I told her I was bringing you over for the holidays.”

“You what?” Your eyes bulged out and your eyesight wobbled. The hot fury burning inside you was ready to erupt and Johnny wouldn’t survive. “What do you mean? Johnny, what have you done?”

“She was just talking about how all her friends son’s had nice girls and you know how much she likes you,” He explained rapidly. “We’ve been friends for a long time and you know she adores you. Your name was literally the first name that popped into my head so please don’t kill me, I’m trying to stay alive for at least another birthday.”

You watched his features twitch through a series of emotions, his eyes silently pleading you.

“Fine,” You finally let out after a pregnant pause, “but you seriously owe me big time, Suh.”

His face lit up and he swept you up in his arms, tangling the blanket all over your body and pressed you tightly to his chest.

“Thank you! Thank you!” He grinned and kissed the top of your head sloppily, “You’re the best Y/N! I swear I’ll make this all as painless as possible.”

“Bring all your coats,” Johnny said as he watched you pack all your clothes that were currently strewn across your bed. He sat on your roommate Wendy’s bed. “I don’t need you freezing before we make it back home.”

“I think I’ve grown accustomed to the cold,” You told him ironically packing your best parka, “Wendy’s gonna kill you for messing up her bed with your giant limbs.”

“It was like this when I got here,” He winked at you before grabbing your favorite teddy bear that he gifted you when you broke your arm in high school. “Take this. We can use it as a device to make my mom all soft and gush about how you fell in love with me for the first time when I gave it to you.”

You took the bear and placed gently into your suitcase, “So, then what’s our story? How did we happen?” You motioned to the both of you, “When did we develop feelings? When did you realize you loved me?”

The pale winter glow of the sky filtered through Wendy’s shimmery curtains, casting a heavenly shine on Johnny’s skin. He looked so angelic perched on a pile of pastel pillows surrounded by cute plushies. His eyes sparkled and you marveled at how much they looked like the night sky you were so fond of.

His gaze was on you, unwavering, “When I could put words to how I felt for you.”

You stood there breathless and disoriented, not knowing what to say next. He watched you attentively gauging your reaction with raised eyebrows and a playful smirk.

“How grossly cheesy.”

You felt the oxygen rush into your lungs and you let out a light chuckle as Wendy walked into the room, immediately shoving Johnny off her bed.

“I can’t believe you two are actually going through with this,” She said reclaiming her bed and rearranging the order of pillows and plushies Johnny had knocked askew. “Johnny, you idiot, how could you just blatantly lie to your mom?”

“She sounded so sad,” Johnny climbed onto your bed, flicking the extra clothes aside. “She just doesn’t want me being alone, I guess. She’s a big romantic and I think she just hopes I find the same kind of love she has with dad.”

“Which is understandable and sweet,” You inputted giving him a soft smile, “I don’t mind doing this, but you still owe me big time. Now leave I’ve got other things I need to pack that I’d rather you not see.”

Johnny blinked slowly, a smirk creeping up his lips, “But I’m your boyfriend.”

“Fake boyfriend, you pervert!” You cried out smacking him with one of your jeans. “Leave before I change my mind and call your mother to tell her the truth.”

With the speed of lightning, the tall boy rolled off your bed and held his hands up in the air in defense. His hair was sticking up every which way and his shirt rumpled, you found it a rather endearing look on him.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” He made a dash towards the door, waving goodbye at the two of you.

“Taeyong and I made a bet with the other guys that you will return from break as couple,” Wendy stated impishly, eyeing you in a way that made you want to hide behind your luggage. “Doyoung thinks you guys are too slow and oblivious so nothing will happen. Jisoo says it won’t happen until a week after you come back.”

“What in the world…” You felt your cheeks heat up. “Are you guys seriously taking bets on Johnny and I getting together? What kind of nonsense is this?”

Wendy shrugged, “We’ve been doing it for years, we just think you guys will finally stop dancing around each other.”

“Johnny and me are not dancing around each other,” You grumbled irately, “There is nothing going on between us. We’re just friends.”

“Mhmm sure,” Wendy didn’t fight you on this, but she didn’t look convinced, “Well at least I can tell Yoona that Johnny is available. She was wondering if you were finally going to snatch him.”

“W-what?” You felt your soul crumble a little. “Yoona and Johnny?”

“Yeah,” Wendy beamed up at you, she nonchalantly began to pick at her nails, “wouldn’t they make a cute couple?”

“But we’re dating...”

“Fake dating,” Wendy’s stare was devilish and you knew she had you were she wanted. “All our friends know it’s fake. You and Johnny know it’s fake. So, why not right?”

“Right.”

“Unless…” Oh, no here it comes. “Do you want to date Johnny? I mean really date him, not fake date him. Do you want Johnny Suh to be your boyfriend?”

“N-no,” You rushed out hastily, shoving the remnants of your clothes and undergarments into the luggage. “Johnny and I are friends. He can date who he wants. We’re just doing this for show.”

You hurriedly snapped the luggage shut and grabbed your towel. You were in serious need of a soak in the tub with warm water, fruity bubbles, and sweetly scented candles. You felt a headache coming on and you had an inkling it was all due to Wendy.

“Okay,” She said as you collected all your toiletries, “Y/N just remember don’t fall in love with, Johnny.”

“You make it sound like my life is rom-com,” You grunted.

“Actually do fall in love with him that way I can win the bet!” She cackled as you closed the door behind you.

Yes, the headache was definitely a cause of Wendy’s unnecessary words. You didn’t love Johnny in that way and you were certainly not going to develop any such feelings. Although, the thought of Johnny being you boyfriend did make your heart flutter.

“Just give me your hand,” Johnny whined as you wobbled out your house carefully treading over the icy terrain of your yard, “Your mom is watching us from the window. She’s going to think I’m a horrible boyfriend who let her daughter fall face first into the snow.”

“Your fingers are cold,” You cried out as Johnny slipped his fingers through yours and pulled you closer to his body to steady you, “Who wears fingerless gloves in the dead of winter? There’s snow on the ground and ice in the air, John!”

“It’s fashionable,” Johnny protested, “Okay, just try to hurry we’re already running late. Aren’t your parents going to join us?”

You two were going to the small party Johnny’s parents were throwing him. They threw him a welcome home party every time he came home from college, it had been cemented into their yearly tradition at this point.

“Dad’s working but my mom might drop in later,” You explained climbing into his car. You could feel your mom’s eyes on you as you did so. “I can’t believe your mom told my mom we were dating. You know she yelled at me when I got home the other day for not telling her.”

“What does she think about us dating?” He asked casually, turning on the air.

You placed your hands over the hot air greedily blocking it from warming anything other than your frosty fingers.

“She was pretty happy, I suppose,” You shrugged trying to come off as nonchalant as possible, “She thinks you’ll make a wonderful boyfriend, her words not mine.”

“So, you don’t think I’ll make a wonderful boyfriend?” He pouted, successfully pulling out of your driveway and starting the ten minute journey to his house.

“You pushed me off the slide in sixth grade,” You deadpanned. “Such a gentleman.”

“That was sixth grade!” He exclaimed making a turn, his house coming into view. “My actions at that time aren’t who I am now. I’ve changed. I can be romantic. I was voted most romantic in high school, remember?”

“Yeah, but I’ve never seen that side of you,” You defended.

“Sure you have,” Johnny insisted parking the car in front of his house. “You’ve just been to blind to notice it,” He whispered to himself hoping you wouldn’t hear.

You didn’t, you were too wrapped up in staring at the beautiful house in front of you. From your view, you can tell the party was in full swing as the windows were glowing gold from the inside and you could see misshapen shadows moving about. On the outside, his house was alive with festive lights and decorations a dusting of snow covered everything, making it look like an enchanting picturesque setting of a Christmas movie.

He hurriedly rushed to your door to open it, flashing you a gleaming smile.

“See romantic gentleman,” He winked at you, looping your arms together and hauling you inside.

Immediately, the both of you were assaulted by the warm smell of spices and sweets, then by the arms of happy woman. Johnny’s mom nearly tackled you out of her son’s grip, showering your cheeks in wet kisses.

“Y/N,” She gleefully pinched your cheeks, “I’m so happy my favorite daughter could make it.”

“Don’t let all my exes hear you say that,” Johnny said cheekily earning a slap on the arm by his mom. “Ow, mom, I was joking.”

“Don’t you know not to talk about ex girlfriends in front of your current one,” She reprimanded. “Plus you’ve only ever had three and I don’t think middle school romances are all that serious.”

You giggled suddenly remembering, “Oh I remember the girl telling him she loved him after a week and a half.”

“They broke it off right after,” She laughed along with you, “Poor girl kept coming back asking to see him, he had the audacity to send her a letter telling her he was moving out of the country.”

“Okay, okay, let’s not bring back unwanted memories,” He said, “My high school romances were much better.”

“Eh,” You laughed, “I don’t think they were all that much better.”

“You weren’t lucky in love then, sweetie,” His mom patted his cheek tenderly, “but maybe it was just the universe’s way of holding you off for the right girl. Everything happens in a way we don’t expect it, but we end up being happy over it. It happens serendipitously. See, you’ve got the right girl right here.”

You nearly choked on your own spit. Johnny began coughing wildly, his face flushing ruby red as he refrained from meeting your gaze, too embarrassed to do so. His father came and steered him away, claiming that Johnny had guests to greet. You only wished you’d be whisked away too.

“Can you help me bring out more snacks, sweetie?” You followed Johnny’s mom into the kitchen.

“You know when Johnny told me you two were dating I was so happy,” She piled on a plate of freshly baked cookies onto your waiting arms, “I always knew you two would end up together. You two had something there, you were just too blind to see it. I always thought you would make a lovely couple.”

“Thank you,” You felt your shoulders dipping at the disappointment that stirred in you. You told yourself that the reason behind it was for lying to someone so kind and that you knew, not the fact that Johnny wasn’t really your boyfriend.

“I was waiting for it to happen,” Her eyes had a faraway look. “Ever since Johnny came in one day barging through her like a tornado after finding out you were going to the school dance with some guy. He said he wasn’t jealous, but I knew otherwise.”

“Oh,” You distinctly remember Johnny disapproving of your date, but you hadn’t thought much of it. By the end of that night, you had ditched your jerk of a date and had spent the rest of the dance with Johnny. “I think he was angry because we always went as friends, I don’t think he liked me.”

“The night of the dance he ended up distraught and confessing he felt something he couldn’t put into words for you,” His mother said staring at you knowingly, “I told him it was love.”

When did you realize you loved me?

When I could put words to how I felt for you.

The words that you two spoke jokingly that day in your room came crashing into your head like a wrecking ball. You suddenly felt as disoriented as that day.

“Mom, what embarrassing things are you telling my girlfriend,” Johnny groaned striding over towards the both of you, “Mom, look you broke my girlfriend.”

My girlfriend. The words sounded so beautiful coming out of his mouth.

“Oh, it was just us reminiscing on stuff,” You told him handing him the plate of cookies, “Help your poor girlfriend out by carrying this for me. It’s too heavy.”

“It weighs as much as a feather,” He deadpanned but obliged, his mother watched the two of you happily as you left the kitchen. “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing,” You told him as you reached the refreshments table. He place the the cookies onto the table before pulling you to the corner of the room.

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” He whispered, he took your chin in his hand and forced you to stare at him, “You looked so shocked. Did she say something weird?”

“No,” You shook your head grabbing at his hand but he only took it as a cue to interlace your fingers together and pull you closer. “She was just talking about how cute we look together and how happy she is that we’re finally a couple.”

“Oh,” He nodded understandingly, a shadow of hurt flickered over his eyes, “I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable by saying that. I know us acting as a couple is probably weird for you.”

You felt yourself being honest, you blame it on woozy you were by an indirect confession of love, “That’s the thing, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable…”

And it didn’t. It made the flutter in your heart return, which only increased at the proximity of Johnny’s face.

“What?” His eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“Oh, mistletoe!” You heard his mother shrieking from across the room.

The whole room full of guests turned to look at her and then at the pair of you, as you slowly rose your head to face the little plant that was causing all the commotion.

“Oh my God…” Johnny croaked out uncomfortably as the whole room watched, he leaned closer to whisper into your ear, “I know this is weird, but can I kiss you?”

You nodded silently, not finding the strength inside you to form actual words. Your throat felt dry and your heart was beating wildly in your chest.

Johnny leaned down and pressed his lips softly on yours. The kiss was chaste at first, then he began to move his lips, savoring the moment. He was deliberate and gentle with his lips then when you pushed yourself onto him, his movements became erratic and fervent. All the years of feeling something akin to love that he had suppressed came pouring into the kiss and only he knew.

You on the other hand, were feeling everything differently. It was all new, or perhaps it had always been there just dormant. Suddenly there was a word for the flutter in your heart whenever you saw Johnny. There was a word for the way you wanted his happiness and the way you always found yourself searching for him amidst a crowd.

It was love. His mother had said he knew he loved you when he knew what to call it. Know you knew what to call it and it all had happened serendipitously because of a lie and mistletoe.

You pulled away, overwhelmed with the realization of knowing that you were in love with your best friend. You sprinted out of the house, gasping for air and dizzy from the kiss.

Johnny followed you into dimly lit street littered with fresh snow that was falling at a leisurely pace.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, his brown eyes was begging you not to run off towards your house. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I shouldn’t have kissed you knowing you don’t feel the same.”

“Johnny…”

“I should have just told my mom the truth,” He rambled on. “I just--she seemed so happy thinking we were dating. Then before I know she hung up and I just didn’t have the heart to call her back and tell her. I think a part of me let it happen because I always wanted it to be real. I wanted us to be real.”

The truth was out there now, he couldn’t take it back.

“For how long?” Your voice never rose. You blinked away the snowflakes that collected on your lashes. “How long have you felt this way?”

He stared solidly at you, right through you, and you met his stare equally as powerful, “I’ve been in love with you the moment I knew what love was.”

You were breathless and disoriented again, the man in front of you really knew how to get that reaction out of you.

“I know you don’t feel the same way,” He never once broke eye contact with you. He was being very brave about the whole ordeal, dealing with the outcome of his words head on.

“I think I do,” You murmured creeping closer towards him, the slush of the snow seeping into your socks. “I didn’t have a word for it but your mom made me realize it was love.”

Johnny smiled brushing away the snowflakes sticking to your hair, “I guess it is then.”

“Kiss me,” You told him finding confidence you didn’t think you had.

“I will,” He pressed his forehead on yours, the smell of gingerbread cookies washed over you as he spoke, “but first let’s actually date. No fake dating, real dating, and let it last more than half a day.”

You giggled, “Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Yes,” He grinned, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes. I love you, Johnny.”

Then before he can blink, you kissed him first. You felt him smile into the kiss. The swirling snow above and the cold that came with it did nothing to budge either of you. The warmth that spread through you due to the sheer happiness that you felt was what kept you from freezing.

If Johnny hadn’t accidentally said he was dating you, you wouldn’t be truly dating now. It was truly something serendipity.

[amessinadress]

••Giant List Of Mickey Milkovich Quotes••

“I DONT KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE SAYING!”

“Must really clear your mind watching the sunrise after a long night of gurgling old man balls.”

“You came all the way down here to talk about my pubes?”

"You ready to go again or you need some time, firecrotch?”

“Fuck you is what you were invited to."

"Those fingers go anywhere near that cock, Imma break every knuckle on your hand."

"You're going down, Army!”

"Red-head. Bat-shit crazy. Packing 9 inches."

“Not everyone just gets to blurt out how they fuckin feel every minute.”

“Nonook of the fucking north, why don’t you lose the parka, unless you’re planning on banging Eskimo’s.”

"You wanna chit-chat more or you wanna get on me?"

“Whatever. Likin’ what I like don’t make me a bitch.”

“Does this violate my probation?”

“The fuck are you looking at?”

“GUESS WHAT WE’VE BEEN DOING DADDY? WE’VE BEEN FUCKING! AND I TAKE IT! HE GIVES IT TO ME GOOD AND HARD AND I FUCKING LIKE IT! I SUCK HIS DICK! I FUCKING LOVE IT!”

“Missed ya.”

“I like fucking carrot tops.”

“I just want everyone here to know, I’m fucking gay. Big ol’ mo.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Fuck you Gallagher.”

“So go do yoga, sing fucking Taylor Swift, I don’t give a shit. Just get out of the fucking car.”

“Can I go with him?”

“You’re under my skin man. The fuck can I do?”

“His parter. Lover. Family. Ya know?”

“Don’t fucking tell me what’s impossible.”

“I can take care of him. Okay, let me take care of him until he's better.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Look don’t worry, we’ll get a dick in you as we can!”

“Of course we are.”

“C’mere”

“Ian what you and I have makes me free.”

“Together.”

“I love you… It means we take care of each other… It means thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit”

“Fuck you, fuck you and especially fuck you!”

“Well this ain’t Macy’s bitch, and you ain’t window shopping.”

“Sure. Got nothin better to do than watch a bunch of pruney queens slap their sacks against your ass cheeks.”

“Yeah, I'm sure you're gonna turn him into a nice, upstanding citizen since you've blown so many of them.”

“NO ONE’S GETTING LAID UNTIL THEY GET PAID!”

“They’re not climbing Everest, They’re climbing dick.”

“no that’s illegal in this country”

“anyone can jerk a cock. I jerk mine, he jerks his. Learn a unique skill or shut the fuck up.”

“I got bottom, so you're on top.”

"Yeah whatever. Tell em you got AIDS."

“Iiiiiiiian Gallagher! You messed with the wrong girl!”

“You wanna fuckin’ die?”

“Don’t think you’re getting off just because you’re about to drop a patty from your fur-burger.”

“the fuck they can! Look at her, she’s fuckin’ dead!”

“I'm worried about you. I love you.”

“I want you to come with me.”

“He stays here, he’s staying with me. He’s fucking family”

"Tell fuckhead this is not over!”

"Oh. Never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad I finally found Jesus."

“Fuck you and your weird ass kid”

“You wanna get paid a little more for putting a strangers dick in your mouth?”

“... you mean horny? What 17 year old gay kid isn’t horny?”

“Yeah, please, check your phone. I'll just yell at the wall.”

“You ever think back in the day that this is where we would be?”

“I was ‘til shit for brains here pulled his Glock out.”

“Leave the goddamn stealing to the experts. fuck.”

“Hope Damon knows how to hitchhike.”

“I could pull it out, but I don't want to scare all the kids.”

“Oh, check it out. Ian Gallagher putting his big boy pants on.”

“I'm thinking a little bit of nipple pinching and some ass eating.”

“Sun all year round. No more freezing our asses off. Just sandals and tequila from here on, man. It's what kept me going in the joint. The beach. Us.

“Bet your white ass burns like a mother fucker.”

“Something else I want to hit.”

“Like stab that fat fucking mick who keeps trying to steal my jello!”

“Jesus Christ. You wanna spread a blanket out and look for shooting stars next?”

“I like em sweet.”

“It’s a fucking snickers bar!”

“What the fuck does a squirrel have to do with waffles anyway?”

“YES I FUCKING KNOW I GOT SHOT!”

“Fuck I missed you.”

“Yeah ya know when someone robs me with my own fucking gun, they're not my friend. I’m kinda funny like that.”

"Mary Poppins here is on a warpath.”

“Look, if you dont want to hang out with me that's fine but you need to call your family.”

“Rise and fuckin shine, Cinderella.”

“I love banana pancakes!”

“Yeah I called for a Youber!”

"Whatchu going down for then, huh?"

"Card carryin, apple pie eatin, born on the fourth of July American fuckin citizen.”

“Fucking cheat on me ian. Wont get out of bed and you’re fucking bouncing off the walls- I came out for you, you piece of shit!”

”Do yourself a favor and put a bullet in my chest, cause if you don’t, you’re in serious shit.”

“Okay you need to push the fuck back, nutjob.”

“I meant we were fucking getting gas!”

“That’s all you think he is? some twink?”

“Say cheese, mother fucker!”

“If I wanted to fuck a guy in the ass, I would have stayed in prison. - Get the lube, bitch.”

“My name's Ian. I can't turn the page like a normal human being. I have to put my whole goddamn paw in my mouth.”

“EAT MY CORNBOLE, COCKS!!”

“It's like getting screwed by a bowl of potato salad every morning.”

“At least my shit gets flushed, unlike your coleslaw-smellin' dick.”

“Mind your business, Enzo!”

“Yeah, please, that'll be the day, when Ian Gallagher doesn't nag the shit outta my ass and tell me what to do about somethin'!”

-Let me know if I missed any that I should add.

[emeraldwaves]

Title: With Blue Flames and Ice we Freeze For @villainmonth Day 6 - Family Pairing:  DabiGeten Rating: T Word Count: 3,439 Read on Ao3 Summary:  

Living in Hell isn’t Dabi’s first choice, but after getting kicked out of Heaven, he’s stuck. It’s a pain in his ass, especially when his father forces him to undergo the Trials of Hell in order to prepare him to be the next King of Hell. Dabi isn’t particularly interested in facing the various ‘Sins’, but this is his ‘fate’. With Geten to guide him, Dabi suffers as they descend together into the depths of Hell.

Thank you to @amaisenshi  for reading this over <3

Dabi can't place what it is about Bubaigawara that doesn't sit right with him. How is it someone can try and fail so horribly at being supportive? Maybe it's a mix of Heaven and Hell. Both are awful in their own right.

Heaven is strict. They don't allow emotions; they cannot feel a thing there, surrounded by sunlight and clouds and joy... but it doesn't feel like that. It feels like nothing, or rather, it's not something Dabi could even begin to describe. By all counts, Dabi should honestly like Hell better, but Hell is like a personal level of torture. He's consumed by the caverns, trapped by the heat boiling under his skin. He suffocates here, but cannot die, a never-ending cycle of gasping for air to free himself from the confines of the realm.

Geten has been quiet since they left, maybe she can sense something is off. Not that he would think it would affect the icy woman. Maybe she didn't like seeing Bubaigawara like that... maybe it warns her of what she could be... how she could lose her mind in this place.

She stops walking suddenly, turning around to stare at him. "You're real gloomy. Not a very fun travel partner."

He clicks his tongue. "I didn't realize this was a fun experience."

"It is for me," she shrugs, brushing her hand in front of the new door. He watches her ice dance up the front of it. His eyes follow the path as it covers the door, revealing it's design. "I know you're wondering why I have ice in Hell," she says suddenly, not stepping in front of the door like she normally does.

"It's fuckin' weird," he blurts out and she stares at him for a moment, her eyes sharp.

"You'll figure it out eventually," she shrugs.

"I don't actually care."

"Then why do you stare at it so strangely," she asks, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's just strange. Not many people use ice in Hell."

"You're lucky I do," she mutters, glancing at the door.

"Yeah, yeah. If you didn't have your ice you wouldn't be able to reveal the doors or whatever the fuck. Can you just hurry up?"

Her eyes are so sharp, glaring icy daggers at him. "Maybe I won't open the door then," she hisses.

"I just said your job was important."

Her fists clench before she turns around abruptly. "Sure you did," she scoffs, and reaches forward, swinging the door open. "You can enjoy whoever is on the other side of this door." The bite is back in her tone and Dabi walks past her, raising his eyebrow as she wrinkles her nose at him.

Whatever, she can be pissed if she wants.

He steps inside, not sure what to expect. The differences between the first two trials are enough to make him question what each one will be. He expects Hawks to be an outlier, but he has no idea if the others will be similar to Bubaigawara or not.

He pauses, Geten following him into the room and he looks around. The cavern looks the same as always, a little darker than the previous one. In the middle of the large room, a girl rocks back and forth a giggle slipping from her lips when they both enter the room.

"You're finally here!" she cheers and before Dabi can blink, the girl runs up to him. Her cheeks are pulled into a wide smile, her face flushed as she stares at him. "I've been waiting," she giggles.

Dabi blinks, trying to process the amount of energy coming towards him right now.

"I knew you would be busy with the bird man and Jinny so I've been patiently waiting," she sighs. "I'm a little surprised you beat Jin," she says and tilts her head. "Not surprised it was easy for you to get past Hawks. He's so in love!" She scoots back away from him and twirls on one foot, her form shifting to that of Hawks, the black wings spreading out behind him.

Wait...

"With your sister no less," the figure says, and Dabi needs a moment to realize no, it's not Hawks, this girl can obviously change her form somehow. "Every time I see him he looks so lovey dovey!" She cups her hands and pops a leg out, posing in a way that doesn’t quite suit Hawks. It's weird to see him looking all dainty and... cute.

With a sigh, she spins around and is back in normal form. "I'm so jealous," she says, a laugh slipping from her lips. "I want to be in love like that... I want to be in love with everyone!"

"Annoying," Dabi mutters, knowing this is the closest he'll get to a headache in Hell.

"I mean, I already love Geten!" the girl says and rushes towards Geten, staring up at her, eyes wide and eager.

With a sigh, Geten rolls her eyes. "Himiko..." She says it as if she's greeting someone, and yet her voice is filled with annoyance.

"Don't be like that!" Himiko giggles and she twirls around, transforming into Geten.

Dabi blinks. One Geten was plenty... but two...

"Don't change into me!" Geten immediately snaps, ice swirling around her boots.

"Aw why not? You're so pretty, but you hide it with this giant winter coat. You should get something more slim fitting!" Himiko teases. It's strange to hear her voice so cheerful and bubbly. Admittedly, Dabi didn't realize it could get so high pitched.

"Himiko!" Geten snaps, shooting ice at, well, herself, but the girl jumps out of the way.

"You could have the cutest winter jacket!" she sighs, landing in the middle of the cavern. Humming she tugs the collar of the fur parka forward, staring down at her chest. "Hm. Kinda small," she says, giggling wildly. "I guess I could see why you keep those covered up!"

Dabi can't help but smirk at the red which appears on Geten's cheeks. Her face lights up, as if she's standing in front of a fire and she folds her arms across her chest, holding her jacket close to herself. Admittedly, the look is... kind of… cute, and for a moment Dabi forgets all about how rude and crass the woman can be.

"S-Stop it, Himiko! You're not supposed to transform into me!" she growls, her icy eyes glaring at the other girl.

"Oh come on!" she says. "I was just having some fun!" She twirls around, the bottom of the jacket swinging around her legs, her long white hair moving around her face.

"You don't gotta be ashamed of your-" When a fist connects with his chin, Dabi stumbles backwards. "What the fuck-" He groans, rubbing his chin.

She glares at him, panting heavily, clouds of ice slipping from her lips. "I'm not ashamed of anything. My... it's... not either of your business!" He kinda wants it to be, just because he's so damn curious now what her boobs look like under that giant parka.

Himiko laughs wildly, the sound echoing throughout the cavern. With Himiko's energy, Geten's voice sounds genuine and full of excitement.

It's enough to send a shiver down Dabi's spine.

"You're supposed to be dealing with him, not me!" Geten hisses, thrusting her finger towards Dabi.

"Okay, okay," she sighs, twirling around as Geten's form seems to melt off of her in a gray, liquid substance.

Geten sighs with relief, but Dabi misses the flush of her pale cheeks. Or at least, that's a thought he pretends didn't just run through his mind.

Hopping back towards the middle of the room, Himiko smiles. "So you're actually completing the trials," she hums, tilting her head back and forth. The messy buns on her head bounce gently with her movement, her wild eyes glistening with a strange excitement.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Dabi snorts.

"Good!" Himiko cries out, lunging towards him as she pulls a knife from her belt. "Now we really can have fun!"

Out of shock, Dabi stumbles backwards, avoiding the knife. It's not going to kill him, but her scratching his flesh doesn't sound pleasant.

"Fun?" he mutters, catching himself. This is anything but fun.

"I know you want to see my memories, but they won't tell you anything interesting!" she says in a sing song tone. "I know all about you!" she giggles, charging towards him with the knife. He has a feeling she's going to be relentless. He steps back from her, letting the searing blue flames appear on his fingertips, ready to attack.

She leaps in the air, and he sends fire towards her, hitting at her stomach. She yelps and immediately falls down away from him, rolling to the side. "Why so mean?!" she pouts and pushes herself back up.

A large grin appears on her face. "I hope you know I can turn into anyone I want to," she says, slowly walks towards him. "But I find it best to turn into people I know the other person loves," she sighs, twirling around in a circle as long white hair flows down behind her, her eyes morph into the tired gray color Dabi hasn't seen in quite some time. White angelic wings flow behind her, her long white robe covering her pale, smooth skin.

"Isn't that right, Touya?" she hums.

"Mother," he breathes out, before his brain can apply any sort of filter.

Todoroki Rei's lips curl into a wide smile, a terrifying thing to witness on the face of his calm and collected face of his mother; it's not a sight he's used to, and it takes him off guard.

In general, seeing his mother, despite knowing it's not her, isn't something he was expecting. He falls backward, landing on the ground, and Himiko leaps, still in the form of his mother. She grips his arm and places her knee on his other arm and he knows he should shoot fire in her face but this is his mother right in front of him. Though he knows it's not really her, he doesn't have the drive to fight her.

He can't watch his mother's face twist in pain.

"Should I stab you, Touya," Himiko giggles, purring out his name as she gets close to her target. "Send you right to Purgatory..."

He slams his eyes shut for a moment to regain himself.

It's not her. His mother would never be in Hell. It's not her. She's not allowed down here and he can't remember the last time he saw her. It's not her.

She's not here. She would never be here.

He plants his feet on the ground, lunging forward as he grabs her arm and slams her to the ground.

"How fucked is this," he snaps, staring into the face of the woman who raised him.

"But I just love this look on your face," she purrs, a loud laugh bursting from her lips. "It was oh so worth it for that."

Holding up his hand, Dabi grabs at her forehead, ready to get away from this girl.

"You're insane," he growls as the memories rush into his body.

~~

Heaven was a cruel place.

Despite all the stories, all the times she'd been to church and tried to be a good girl. None of it mattered. Heaven was a place for those who followed the rules, leaving them to suffer for all eternity.

"The joy of playing Cupid," All Might's voice boomed.

It sounded like a beautiful thing when he spoke of it.

Himiko Toga was a guardian of Love; which admittedly, had a nice ring to it. Himiko loved love, and now it was her job to watch others fall in love and send them grace to bless relationships.

It was never something she learned more about. But jobs in Heaven weren't handed out willy nilly, and Himiko was soon to learn what hers meant.

At first, everything seemed exactly how she would expect it to be. As a guardian of love she watched and observed relationships grow and flourish.

Her favorites to watch were two young girls who had found each other in school. It had been an awkward love, one that blossomed deeper and deeper with each month they knew each other. She watched as one struggled to decide how she truly felt about her friend, and how the other knew immediately.

They kissed one afternoon, during a study session. The two of them fell into it, going further and further, touching and kissing and being... together.

There was a pang in Himiko's chest. She wanted it. Whatever it was they had; she was desperate for it. Yearned for the level of acceptance the two girls shared. She blessed them with grace... but she wanted more. She wanted to understand why the two girls smiled so much.

"I want that," she said, thrusting her finger towards her cloud pool when All Might walked by one day.

A large laugh left the tall man's lips. "Himiko Toga! There is no need to want what they have. In fact, you mustn't long for what they have, otherwise you could fall. This is paradise. Here you can observe their experiences and help them find happiness."

She twisted her lips. But why was she not experiencing the same?   

Happiness. It was... an abstract concept. Something Himiko almost understood. It was like she could almost reach out and touch it, and her fingertips would brush against something that was just out of her grasp. It was a slightly... warm feeling. It made her want to quirk her lips up and curl them above her teeth.  

She had felt it a few times, though she wasn't exactly supposed to. But she couldn't deny it felt good.  

But it didn't get better.  

She tried to focus on her job. It was an important one, and as confused as she felt, watching the two young women did give her a bit of clarity. Their smiles were important, and she was the one that helped them.  

She was an angel, a guardian of love, but what did that mean? Had someone done this for her? Had someone blessed her relationship? They weren't allowed their memories from their time on Earth, but Himiko wondered if someone watched her. If someone looked at her, jealous that she knew what happiness was while she seemingly had it all.  

When she watched the two girls, she felt pangs in her chest over and over, sharp pangs of frustration. They were happy; holding hands while they walked their dog in the park, enjoying holidays with family. All the while Himiko would give her grace to them blessing their relationship, and her own sense of self slowly died behind the mask she wore.  

They would be happy. They would be happy. She would watch them be happy.  

But what would she be? The more she thought about it, the more questions began to swirl around in her mind.  

Why?      

Why was she forced to watch as others received such joy and happiness? Was this really to be her eternal life? Over and over she would watch couples experience joy, go through their lives having this thing she so desperately wanted. She wanted what they had. She wanted the smiles and the laughing and the joy.   

So why couldn't she have it?  

She began to look at other couples, her eyes scanning all the various humans. With each couple she watched her heart grew heavier. She wanted to be in love and know love... not just guard it. She wanted to feel normal... she wanted to feel.  

She didn't care what it meant. "I want it all!" she cried out, gripping the side of her cloud pool, watching the various couples pass by in the pool of water.  

She wanted to reach out and grab the happiness that was just beyond her grasp. She could practically see it; it was like a thick, warm blanket she wanted to wrap herself in. Her fingers were just inches away from it.  

And when she felt her fingers curl around that warm blanket, she let out an unhinged laugh the warmth spreading out over her body. It was hers now; to have and to hold for eternity. All of it belonged to her. Slowly the mask began to drip down off of her face.  

She would have it all.  

The blanket corrupted her, the heat clinging to her body. And as her soul turned black, her lips curled up into a smile.  

     ~~  

"Do you know..." she giggles, still wearing the form of Todoroki Rei. "That guardians of love are people who died without knowing love at all. Forced to watch people experience something they never had... forced to bless people who have something they always desired. I learned that when I fell. Even my own family-"  

"That's not true!" Dabi yells, forgetting that it’s Himiko talking and not his mother. He slowly moves his hand away from her forehead.  

Dabi has always thought his mother's eyes were beautiful. Despite how tired they often looked, despite how much pain she suppressed behind them so not to corrupt herself, he thought they had a shimmer to them he wished he could've seen whenever he chose.  

It's a selfish wish; a greedy, desperate wish.  

The face of Todoroki Rei stares at him and he's forgotten. All he heard was her family didn't love her and he had to set the record straight. Of course they did. Of course he did.  

"Oh?" Himiko purrs, her lips curling up into a devilish smile. It's odd, to see his mother looking so scarily demonic. "Did you forget I'm not Todoroki Rei!?"  

“No," he growls.  

"Then why did you yell so loud?" she laughs and Dabi lunges for the knife in her hand.  

He snags it from her grip and immediately holds it up to her throat. She swallows, her pale skin pressing against the shimmering blade. "Change back, or I'll send you to Purgatory."  

With a whine, she rolls her head, letting the image of Todoroki Rei melt off of her. "You're really no fun, King-in-Training. I hope you fail."  

He momentarily wants to ask if Enji is more 'fun' than he is, but he doesn't want to hear about all the things Todoroki Enji has done during his reign as king.  

"I guess for now you can... say you've won," she snorts, spreading her arms out as she giggles staring up at the ceiling.  

"Of course I've won. I wasn't about to fall for your shitty tricks," he says, thrusting the knife down against the floor.  

"Whatever you say~!" she calls out, the lilting sing song returning to her tone.  

With a snort, he walks towards the door, a shiver rolling down his spine. Geten hasn't moved as she stands by the exit, snow falling down around her body, the spot beneath her feet is covered in ice. "Let's go!" he calls out, wanting to get as far away from the woman who can transform into the one thing he hates the most.  

Geten walks a little bit behind him. "So you're a Momma's boy-"  

"Don't," he snaps, the blue flames flaring around his palms.  

"Alright. I guess I was surprised your mother was an angel."  

"Only half."  

"But... you were never human?" she asks.  

"No, never," he says. "Pureblooded demon, or well... demon-angel... in this case. Just how my father always wanted."   

"That’s… rare," she says, her eyes scanning up and down his body.  

"My father would be thrilled to hear you say that," he says, chuckling darkly. 

"Is your mother still an angel?" she asks, her voice a bit quieter. He doesn’t appreciate her pretending to care.  

"It’s none of your damn business..." he hisses out and she lets it go.  

His mother isn't an image that's easy for him to see. The moment replays over and over in his mind, the image of her lips curling into Himiko's creepy smile...  

It wasn't her, Dabi repeats over and over in his head. He's never going to see his mother again, he's resigned himself to that fate though he loves her with his everything. He can’t stay because it’s not her…  

He will remember her as he knows her; The family that actually cared for him, ripped away by Heaven.  

[grailacademy]

Welcome to Grail Academy - Chapter Twenty-eight: Season of the Witch

“There’s going to be hell to pay, I can guarantee you that much.” Esmerelda reapplied her lipstick in the reflection of Bernard’s sunglasses, who strained his neck down to meet her level. Nico looked up at the intimidating monument that stood as a symbol of political power in Calicem, city hall, as his leader fixed her makeup. “Okay, I know I’m Mister Bad Idea, but...this seems like a REALLY bad idea,” He looked back to his teammates, anxious, “Are you sure you can pull this off, babe?”

Esmerelda flipped her hair and spun around, giving Bernard the signal that he no longer had to hunch down and act as a human mirror for her. “Darling, would I have worn my Ruby Red lipstick instead of my Cherry Blossom lipstick if I didn’t believe we could do this?” Nico looked past her to his partner for an answer, but Bernard only shrugged. “I guess not…” Nico cringed to himself as the words escaped his mouth, and adjusted the sunglasses on his own face. Esmerelda swiftly popped the collar of her trench coat, snapped her fingers, and the boys followed her as they hiked up the marble stairs that led to city hall.

There was plenty of hustle and bustle going on in the lobby, interns rushing to grab coffee for disrespectful supervisors, tired businessmen quietly arguing with each other about various political endeavours, unamused security guards standing watch near the front desk, where one was currently trying his luck at flirting with the receptionist. She giggled as the security guard spouted some terrible pick-up line, until a clawed hand slammed down on the desk’s counter. Esmerelda tapped her manicured fingers against the counter impatiently, with Bernard and Nico standing stoic with their arms crossed behind her. “Am I interrupting?” she quipped, and the security guard quickly backed away towards his coworkers. She stared daggers at him until he bumped into the back of the wall, at which point she turned back to address the receptionist. “I’m sorry, ma’am. How can I help you?”

“We’re here for the birthday party. We’re the dancers, yes? You’ve been told?” Suddenly, Esmerelda articulated through a foreign accent, keeping her scowl a permanent expression. “Birthday…? I’m sorry, I don’t have anything like that on the schedule.” The receptionist nervously flipped through a binder as she stuttered her apology.

“What!? Do you know who we are? We are the Toe Tappers! We are booked years in advance!” She roared and spun around to look at her teammates, who both shook their heads in disappointment. Bernard repeated Esmerelda’s exclamation at the woman behind the desk, “Years.”

“I-I truly am sorry, ma’am, but I don’t have you on the visitor list! What are your names?”

Esmerelda pointed a finger at each of the boys, and herself, shouting, “Gunther, Gustav, and Greta! I cannot believe this. The governor calls us all the way from Atlas and he does not even bother to put us on the list. This is unforgivable!” Nico and Bernard chimed in together, “Unforgivable.”

She snapped her fingers, and Nico hefted a boombox onto his shoulder. “You will be punished for this. You will experience the full power of the Toe Tappers rage!” With the press of a button, the boombox started to loudly play techno dance music, and the trio began to vogue with such intensity and aggression that the other people in the lobby actually began to back away, for fear of getting caught in the crossfire of body movements. Frantically, the receptionist dialed a number on the front desk scroll, and stammered a plea for help. “P-please, they’re dancing at me! It’s terrible dancing, but it’s very scary!” Whoever was on the other line chortled hysterically and hung up, and the woman stood up. Laughing nervously, she waved the dancers toward the elevator. “M-my apologies, I must have made a mistake. Yes, here you are,” she tapped a finger on the visitor list, where none of their fake aliases were written, “the Toe Tappers! Go right ahead, the governor’s office is on the fourth floor.” The three of them stopped their angry dancing abruptly, and the music paused. Esmerelda flipped her hair and huffed at the woman, before snapping her fingers again and strutting to the elevator with Bernard and Nico following behind. “Hmph, I should think to make a complaint about the reception service in this place!” She called out as her heels clicked against the stone floors. The three of them filed into the elevator, and once the doors closed, they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

“I can’t believe that worked, merde…” Bernard mumbled and pulled his sunglasses off. Esmerelda chuckled, “I was the head of the drama club at my elementary school. You’re looking at the lead actress in our class’s production of Othello~” She gave a small wink to them, and both Bernard and Nico gave her applause for her acting. 

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Later that night, the wheels of the train squealed across the tracks as orange sparks shot out from between the metal, slowing the cars to a stop at the station. Ivan and Beau hugged before fist-bumping, standing at the platform. “Where are you going for the break?” Ivan asked, zipping up his winter coat. Beau turned around to look at Vert, who was trying (without success) to get comfortable on a bench where he was trapped by a jetlagged tourist snoring against his shoulder. “Me and Vert are gonna visit his brothers for the holidays! It’s about time he introduced his girlfriend to his family.”

Beau smiled when she saw Iris approaching them, her giant suitcase rolling on its metallic wheels as she dragged it along. Along with this, she had a duffle bag hanging off her shoulder, a backpack, a second suitcase under her arm, and a guitar case strapped on top. She did her best to carry all her luggage, but it only took a small crack between tiles for her to tumble over and become buried in a pile of baggage. She thrusted her arm upwards and climbed out of the prison of suitcases, and explained, “I have to meet my family back home for the town festival. We always perform in the parade, and they would kill me if I missed it.” Ivan and Beau helped Iris stack her luggage on a trolley, and Ivan sat down on the stack like a throne. “I’m staying in Calicem, I got suspended again so I have to clean all the graffiti off the bathroom stalls at school. It’ll probably take me the rest of the semester.” He pouted, and Iris gave him a supportive pat on the back.

The train conductor shouted from a small window, announcing the departure of the train, and Vert wiggled his way off the bench and headed to one of the cars. “Well, that’s our ride” Beau said, looking between her friends. Vert motioned for his girlfriend to hurry onto the train car, and she trotted into his arms, where they both waved goodbye as the train pulled out of the station. Soon it was Iris’s turn to say goodbye, then waves of other classmates. It was almost midnight when Ivan waved goodbye to team SAND as they jumped onto the back of the last train car, calling out “See you next semester!”

The station was empty. Ivan was dreading the long, cold walk back to campus, and he dreaded the janitorial duties professor Kismet had in store for him even more. He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets, trudging through the snow back home. That is, until a low rumbling sound resonated through the empty streets of the city. It got louder and louder, Ivan could feel it growling in his chest. Then, a bright light, sweeping over the street like a tidal wave. It passed over and overwhelmed his eyes and ears, and then all he could see was white.

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

Beau slept quietly with her head against the window of the train, resting as the skyscrapers and office buildings rushed by. Vert threw his parka over her lap to keep her arm, and smiled. He couldn’t hear the rumbling over the vibrations of the train, the rickety wheels bouncing on the tracks. The bright light that shone like a beacon didn’t stir Beau from her slumber, but it was the only warning that Vert identified before everything went white.

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

Iris flipped to a clean page in her notebook, and began to write down notes to an in-progress song. She chewed on the eraser of her pencil as she thought of lyrics, stuck on trying to find a word that rhymes with catacomb. The sudden growing light blinded her, making her drop the pencil from her mouth to try and shield her eyes.

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

Team BIVI awoke in their dorm room, tucked under the blankets of their beds, wearing their pajamas from the night before. They all yawned and looked at each other, confused. “...Huh. Weird.” Ivan stated, then shrugged and rolled over to go back to sleep.

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If you never spoke to him, Buck would look like just another ne’er-do-well. Just another ghost roaming the city, just another reminder to be grateful for what you have. He trudged through the streets of Calicem with nothing but old black jeans, a stolen brown corduroy coat, a dirty white shirt, and a backpack carrying his essentials. A stack of thick envelopes held together by a rubber band, a hunting knife gifted to him by his father, a journal marked up with a collection of theses and failed chemistry experiments, a rusted thermus housing the spare change that constituted as his life savings, all bounced around in the pack dangling off his shoulder. He was often seen scribbling away in his notebooks, with his knees pulled close to his chest as a makeshift desk to write upon. That is, when he wasn’t pedaling furiously on his bike to breach hills and potholes in the road as he made deliveries. He kept himself as well-hidden at night as he did the names of his father’s business associates. He understood the dangers of being an errand boy for the local kingpin, the secrets he’d have to keep, and he’d learned to survive. During the day: on street corners, in parks. At night: under bridges, in alleys. Just another ne’er-do-well. Nobody would suspect a thing.

All Scarlet could think about as he and his team packed their things and loaded them into the back of a truck, was the fact that Buck had a head start on packing. Because his room was already empty. His journals already taped shut inside an unmarked cardboard box, his photos already mailed to his father under an anonymous address, his clothes already folded neatly at the bottom of Scarlet’s duffel bag, a hidden momento of times long passed.

Yorick steadied his breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. He stood in the center of the factory floor, now empty and hollow. There was a line of unmarked trucks waiting just outside the perimeter of the factory’s fence, vibrating from the unified low rumble of their engines as the drivers stared at the building in anticipation. Scarlet watched with the rest of the workers as the factory suddenly ignited in fire, blue flames spitting from the top of the smokestacks and shattering the windows in an explosion of glass and rubble. Sable, who stood behind her faithful militia near another truck with Hari in the driver’s seat, threw a cloak over her shoulders and lifted the hood up. Only moments later, Yorick emerged from the brush of the surrounding field and wiggled through a hole in the fence, giving the crowd a thumbs up. Sable bellowed, “Let’s move out, while there’s still daylight.” She stepped into the truck and, one by one, each vehicle vacated the premises in a line, followed by the last truck with RYSQ riding inside. “I have to admit,” Rettah commented, sliding her hand onto Yorick’s thigh, which made him shiver with excitement, “you do make cleanups a lot faster.” She giggled, and Yorick laughed shyly along with her, as Scarlet watched the burning facility crumble and grow farther and farther away in the distance. He resisted rolling his eyes at the not-so-subtle flirting, instead tuning them out and focusing on the passing trees. Buck would have liked this.

[wildefiction]

Of Course...Mr. Collins

Word Count: 1,654

Chapter Summary: Reader helps Misha and his family prepare for the holidays.

Chapter Warnings: None. Maybe brief anxiety

TWENTY-EIGHT

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of trashy mid-day television, several short naps and more trips to the bathroom than you cared to count; the ceramic floor cool beneath your fevered skin.

By the end of the weekend, your symptoms had all but completely subsided, a mild headache the only reminder of how miserable you’d been over the last few days. Buried in the warmth of your deep blue fur-lined parka, the bite of the early morning chill went un-noticed as you walked hand-in-hand with Misha to his car.

So lost in your own mind, you barely noticed when he pulled into the driveway – the smooth electric engine so quiet that Misha removing his seat-belt was the first thing you noticed.

The entire day Saturday, while you’d been confined to bed, the multitude of tweets and other notifications you’d been tagged in were impossible to miss and since then, the tiny seed of doubt that lived in your chest had begun to flourish. As a fan yourself, seeing through the mean comments to the worry and concern beneath the awful words wasn’t difficult. Misha was adored by people around the world, news spread like wildfire on the internet and often innocent actions were blown out of proportion by those who were either genuinely concerned or who just liked to stir up trouble. The pictures surfacing from San Francisco seemed to be some mix of both.

“You okay?” Misha’s fingers, laced through your own, tightened while those impossibly multi-dimensional eyes stared down at you, worry etched into the creases of his expression.

The pain evident in his features was like a vice around your chest, and, as pinpricks of moisture gathered at the corners of your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to erase that hurt, whatever it took.

“Of course! Mish, don’t look at me like that – I’m okay, I promise. Just thinking about this weekend is all.”  A soft smile of encouragement replaced your own concern as you leaned up on your tip-toes and wrapped your arms around his waist. Pressing lips lightly to his cheek before burying your face in his chest, the warmth of his body mingled with the calming scent of his cologne and immediately you could feel the tension start to dissipate – just like it always did.

The moment of quiet was short-lived as the front door was pulled open and both Maison and West came spilling down the steps, Vicki chasing after them with their jackets, which neither child appeared to care for.

“Daddy!” “[Y/F/N]!” Four arms wove themselves through both your and Misha’s legs, the children’s exuberance nearly knocking you off balance.

Looking up from the tangle of limbs, you smiled warmly at Vicki. The woman had lowered herself to the steps of the porch. Leaning against one of the thick stone columns, she held a camera in one hand and a tired expression on her face. Gently prying Maison’s left arm from its spot still around your thigh, you approached the front steps, leaning over to hug Vicki as well. This kind of welcome home was still a foreign concept for you, but slowly you were beginning to enjoy the feelings associated with being around Misha and his family.

*****

Over the course of the subsequent days, preparations for the holidays started to become the focus of your daily schedule.  

The weekend after returning from California found you crouched in the attic of Misha’s house, sorting through bins filled with lights, wreaths and shiny baubles. Misha’s voice echoed up through the opening across the room, letting you know he was ready for another load. Vicki pointed to a shallow box on your left, indicating that was the next to go. The three of you had managed to work out an assembly-line of sorts and soon the three of you were all gathered in the living room, the decorations neatly stacked atop the sideboard flanking the fireplace. The very same one that had held your contract all those months ago. While it often felt like you’d never been without Misha, you were suddenly reminded that it had been a mere few months since he and his family had welcomed you into their lives and into their home.

“We seem to be missing something…” Misha tilted his head and stared at the blank space stretching before the large bay windows.

“I just…can’t put my finger on it.” Tapping his bottom lip, his clear sapphire eyes turned to Maison and West. “What do you guys think, are we missing something?”

“Daaaaaa-deee, we need a kwis-mas twee.” Maison stared up at her father, a bright smile spreading across her face as she laughed at his question. Putting all of her weight into the effort, the little girl planted her hands at the small of his back, trying her hardest to push him towards the front door.

Coming up behind her husband, Vicki planted a knit sock-monkey hat atop Misha’s head, the bright blue and cream features of GISH’s mascot sliding down over his eyes. Shrugging into a black parka, Misha laughed at his wife’s antics; West stomping around the entryway in his oversized snow boots, the zipper of his own jacket jingling with each step.

For just a moment, you stood there – watching the dynamics of this family play out before you. They were so very typical, almost down to the white picket-fence. And yet, at the same time they were all so incredibly different in the best way possible.

Three hours later, snow danced around your feet as gusts of wind disturbed the pristine, glittering powder. After searching for what seemed like hours for the best tree, West had stumbled upon a giant he deemed ‘the one.’ It was breath-taking really, the boughs heavy with emerald needles; two rich, deep mahogany pine-cones still clinging to one branch.  The boy, buried to his knees in the drifts surrounding the magnificent fir, was beaming with pride as Misha knelt to assess how best to bring the ten-foot tree home.

*****

Flames licked at the edges of the logs piled neatly in the living-room fireplace; the warmth of it filling the room with comfort as you hung four stockings from the mantle. Across the room, Maison and West sat at a small table, shaking crumpled paper sacks with unimaginable glee. When asked what they should do with the pine-cones they’d removed from the tree, the kids had decided they wanted to make bird feeders (so the small birds wouldn’t go hungry in the cold winter weather.) Watching as they each opened their bag, both children were very excited to see that spreading seed on a peanut-butter covered pine-cone yielded new treats for the sparrows who hadn’t flown south.

“[Y/F/N]! Look at what we made!” A trail of multicolored seeds following in his wake, West lifted his prize up to where you could see it better, blowing a few long strands of sandy hair away from his eyes.

“Ooh, those are great, I bet the birds will really appreciate you looking out for them by making this treat. Why don’t we go outside and hang them up?”

Faces glued to the large living-room windows, both children were seated, legs crossed, with mugs of hot cocoa on the thick bench seat overlooking the front yard. Several small birds flitted between the safety of the eaves and the veritable buffet hanging before them.

Vicki and Misha were positioned on either side of the great tree, taking turns stringing lights through the branches; boxes of ornaments scattered at their feet. Jason’s Christmas album playing on low in the background added to the memorable day, and as you gathered the links of garland made from popcorn and cranberries, you realized just how excited you were for the holidays - something that had been missing in you for more years than you cared to count.

The rest of the afternoon passed in much the same way, and, by early evening the house looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. Rather than being kitschy and overdone however, it felt homey and welcoming. With thoughts of the holidays however, also came thoughts of gift-giving. The simple bliss you’d felt much of the day started to ebb away, replacing itself with anxiety – what could you possibly give Misha and Vicki that they didn’t already possess? In the short time you’d spent with this family, it had become quite clear that they were both incredibly talented, giving and creative people. Somehow a new blender just didn’t fit the situation. Nor did you feel like you could just walk into the nearby mall and miraculously find the perfect thing. The more you thought about it, the stronger and more intense your worry became. Idea after idea would drift through your mind, only to be stricken from consideration almost immediately. So consumed were you with the problem; eyes staring blankly into the flames dancing in the hearth, that only after being called several times did you realize you were being spoken to.

“What’re you thinking about?” Lowering himself to the plush carpet, Misha turned, a lopsided grin spreading across his stubble-blanketed features. Scooching to sit behind you, the arms he loosely draped around your waist tightened until your back was pressed hard to his chest, breath warm against your ear.

“Well, I was thinking about what I should - …. you know? It doesn’t matter, because now I’m thinking about something very different. Twisting to face him, your lips hovered a breath from his – eyes locked.

“I should go help with dinner, and I do have to go home tonight – so this little game you’re playing… definitely isn’t going to work. Good try…Mr. Collins.”

With a quick press of your lips to his cheek, you rose from the floor, sauntering off in search of Vicki and the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen.

TAGS: @jamielea81​ @wings-of-a-raven​

[searchingwardrobes]

Underneath the Tree

Surprise @killiancygnus! I’m your @cssecretsanta2k18! You said you love fluff, modern aus, especially friends to lovers, and I may also have stalked your tumblr a little and discovered that you would also love to just see CS cozy in front of the fire. This fic has all of that. I also decided after you told me you had never had a real tree before that I had to give you one in fic form. I have had a real Christmas tree every year of my life, so I can honestly inform you that getting one is neither as easy or romantic as portrayed in Hallmark movies, which was the perfect way to get some humor in this thing. And what better way to get CS cozy in front of the fire than to have them get caught in the rain? I hope you enjoy this story as much as I have enjoyed getting to know you, Francesca! Merry Christmas 🎄

Summary: Emma Swan has never had a real Christmas tree before, and her best friend Killian Jones is determined to give her one. A real live tree from a quaint tree lot like in a Hallmark movie. Even if it’s pouring down rain . . .

Rating: M-ish because Fran says she likes, “kind of smutty, but not too smutty” which I totally get!

Title from the song of the same name by Kelly Clarkson, the lyrics of which are perfect for this friends to lovers story.

Can also be read on Ao3

She shook her head before heading to her bedroom to change. The first time he had tossed out the “L” word so casually, it had freaked her out. Now she knew how he meant it. The love of a best friend, that’s what they had. A comfortable one filled with no pretenses, casual affection, and innocent flirting. A rarity in Emma’s life for sure, but Killian Jones had proven too stubborn to go away when she got prickly or threw her walls up. Since she couldn’t get rid of him, she eventually accepted his unflagging loyalty and occasional burst of heartfelt sentiments.

It was Killian’s stubbornness that had them heading to a Christmas tree lot on a cold, rainy Brooklyn morning. She had mentioned that she had never owned a Christmas tree aside from the pitiful tabletop thing that resided in her apartment. It came with red baubles already attached to the plastic limbs. All she had to do every year was dust it and set it on the table. Killian, however, had insisted that just wouldn’t do. They were getting her a tree, and not only was it going to be a decent size, it was going to be real. They were going to a tree lot like in those montages on Hallmark Christmas movies.

“Will Rockin Around the Christmas Tree be playing in the background?” Emma had asked sarcastically.

“Maybe,” he had told her with a smirk.

So now Emma was shivering in the passenger’s seat of Killian’s pickup truck, peering past the windshield wipers at the giant, waving Santa welcoming visitors to “Santa’s Treeland.” Killian parked, then came around to open Emma’s door like the old-fashioned gentleman that he was. The rain had tapered off to a light misting, but it still increased the sharpness of the cold. Emma yanked her beanie down farther over her ears and shoved her hands inside the pockets of her parka. Killian wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against his side, rubbing her arm up and down to warm her more. She had to admit, it helped.

Luckily, the trees were stored beneath an awning made of tarps. A sweet looking middle-aged man approached them as they neared the lot.

“Welcome to Santa’s Treeland!” he said as he handed them candy canes. “First Christmas together?” he asked with a wink.

Killian chuckled warmly, tugging Emma closer against him. “You could say that.” He winked down at her as they walked away, and she poked him in the ribs with her elbow. He just laughed more as he rubbed the sore spot.

The trees were organized by size: 4-5 feet, 6-7 feet, and then 8-9 feet. Emma gaped at the prices.

“Fifty bucks for a tree that’s shorter than me?”

Killian frowned at the tree she had tilted upright. “No way, Swan. Your apartment may be small, but I’m not letting you get a tree unless it’s taller than I am at least. And yes, that’s the price. They’re ten dollars a foot, cheapest in any of the burroughs.”

Emma folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Nope. I refuse to pay that much for a dead tree.”

He ignored her completely, hoisting a tree that was over six feet from the next stack over. “Well,” he said, eyeing the thing up and down, “good thing you’re not paying for it.”

Emma blinked rapidly. “Y-you can’t do that!”

He sighed and gave her a tender smile. “Yes, I can, and I will. Now, what do you think of this one?”

Emma, always uncomfortable about receiving generosity, shifted from one foot to the other. She contemplated arguing with him, telling him she didn’t need his charity. If this were Mary Margaret or David, she would have. But with Killian, she knew it wasn’t like that. His upbringing had been similar to her own, and he would never direct pity her way for it.

She tilted her head, chewing on her lower lip. What was she even supposed to be looking for? “It’s okay I guess?”

Killian chuckled. “Is it full enough?” He started turning it slowly. “Or does it have gaps? And the shape, is it close to a triangle or is it too thin or too squat?”

His questions helped as he continued to spin it. Emma frowned. “Now that you mention it, one side looks like it’s missing some branches.”

He nodded, then shoved the tree back with the others. “Then we keep looking.”

They looked at four more until they finally found one just at six feet that was perfect. Unfortunately, while they had been looking the rain had increased. Killian dashed through the rain to where he parked the truck, and by the time he got back his dark hair was plastered to his forehead and rain dripped off his coat. An employee helped him slide the tree into the back of his truck, and Killian quickly covered it with a tarp. Even Emma got slightly drenched just dashing to the passenger’s side of the vehicle. Killian gave his head a shake while Emma squeezed out her damp hair, and they both laughed even as their teeth chattered.

The rain didn’t let up as they drove home. Emma wondered at the wisdom of dragging a wet tree into her apartment, but Killian didn’t seem at all concerned as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, humming “Oh, Christmas Tree.” When she hesitantly voiced her concern, he just smiled at her.

“I covered it with a tarp, so it won’t be too wet,” he assured her, “and we’ll let it dry before we decorate it.”

His festive mood finally had her relaxing, and she actually found herself tapping out the rhythm on the door handle when he switched to humming “Winter Wonderland.” He parked in front of her building, and Emma realized there was no way she wasn’t getting soaked now. He couldn’t get the tree out of her trunk and up to her apartment by himself. Just as she suspected, by the time they had the thing leaning against the door of her second-floor apartment, her wet clothes clung to her skin and her shoes left puddles in their wake. But somehow, Killian was still smiling.

“Where’s that tree stand I got you?” he asked, shaking the rain out of his hair.

“I set it up right in front of the window like you said, with an old sheet under it.”

Killian rubbed at his jaw as he righted the tree. Then he started to shake it, sending drops of water flying all over the place.

“Ugh!” Emma protested, lifting her hands in front of her face to block the onslaught. “I think we should let it dry out here before we take it inside.”

“We can’t do that, we have to get it in the stand and water it right away, or it will dry out. They drink gallons of water when you first get them home.”

“What are you, a Christmas tree expert?” Emma laughed.

“Well, Liam got me a few trees when I was a teenager,” Killian said as tilted the top of the tree Emma’s way. She grasped the slender half as he hoisted the trunk. “And then there’s Google.”

They both grunted as they maneuvered the thing through Emma’s door. She wanted to ask if he’d had a tree since Liam passed, but she didn’t have the heart to dampen his mood. Besides, she’d been to his place the last couple of Christmases and knew full well he had no tree. She wondered if this little outing was as much for him as it was for her. After all, Christmas traditions just weren’t the same when you were alone.

They tilted the tree so they could set the bottom of the trunk into the red metal stand. Killian’s smile – the one that had scarcely wavered all day – faded somewhat as he shoved the tree downward. His brow furrowed.

“What the -” he muttered. “You got a good hold on it?”

Emma tightened her grip and nodded, her frigid fingers getting poked by the tree’s needles. Killian let go of his end and got down on his hands and knees. All Emma could see was his ass sticking out from underneath the bottom branches. He swore under his breath as he struggled with something; the sound of clanging metal accompanying his curses. Yet all Emma could do was grin as she admired her current view of Killian in his tight jeans. Now that’s a gift any woman would like to see underneath her tree.

“It won’t go in.”

“Excuse me?” Emma startled, blushing furiously as Killian’s head popped back out from under the tree. His hair was disheveled, and his cheeks and elf shaped ears were bright red. Even though he was staring at the tree, and not her, she suddenly felt she had been caught at something.

“It’s too wide for the stupid stand,” Killian muttered gesturing at the tree.

“Oh,” Emma breathed out in relief.

Killian grabbed at a fistful of hair. “Surely we can fix this.” He stood up and eyed the tree critically. “Keep hold of it, Swan, I'll be right back.”

He dashed out of the apartment, and Emma stood there, feeling foolish as she continued to grip the tree. Her wet jeans were driving her mad, and the branches of the tree were poking their way up the sleeve of her parka. She adjusted her grip and groaned when she felt sticky sap coating her palms. What in the world was taking Killian so long?

Emma’s eyes widened when he returned with a huge pair of pruning shears. He squatted down by the tree again, and damn it, Emma couldn’t help where her eyes kept going. Something about the way his wet shirt was plastered to his skin, the way his slightly damp hair was curling at his nape, made her suddenly aware of how well built her best friend was. She really needed to get out of this wet parka because she was suddenly really hot.

“There’s a branch sticking out of the very bottom of the trunk, and I think if I trim it off, it’ll fit in the stand just fine.”

Emma tore her eyes away from his rear end to actually look where he was pointing. “Um, are you sure you want to do that?”

But he was already cutting at the base of the branch with the shears, and as it fell away . . . there went half the tree.

“Shit,” Killian grumbled, running his hand through his hair in frustration again. He really needed to quit doing that. It was making Emma’s fingers twitch.

“Hey,” she told him, “it’s no big deal. We’ll just put that side against the window. No one will be able to tell from the street.”

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he told her, frowning for the first time that day, “I ruined your tree.”

She shook her head. “No, you didn’t. Now can we get this thing in the stand already? I’ve got sap running down my arm.”

That got a chuckle out of him, and he bent down again to tighten the screws in the stand. Once it was steady, they both backed up to examine it.

“Is it just me,” Killian asked, “or is it . . .”

“Leaning? Um, yeah.” Emma finally shed her parka, then stretched her arms. She grasped the tree again while Killian loosened the screws. Then he backed up to assess things.

“A little to the left . . . “ he instructed as Emma adjusted the tree, “a little to the right . . . There! Perfect! Don’t move!”

He dove back under the tree and tightened everything, then he and Emma stood back to admire their work. She smiled, and Killian put his arm around her. Maybe she was beginning to see the appeal of -

Then the tree seemed to lean to one side in slow motion before crashing to the floor.

“Shit,” Killian swore again.

“At least we didn’t water it yet.”

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

Killian’s swearing had taken on epic, sailor-like proportions. They finally realized, after many balancing attempts, that they had chosen a tree with a crooked trunk. No matter what they did, the damn thing ending up sideways on the floor. Now Killian had retrieved a tackle box from his truck and was wrapping the thing in fishing wire. He ran the line to the lock mechanism on her window, and now her tree was basically tied to her window so it wouldn’t fall down.

Emma looked at what they had spent the last half hour doing: there were tree branches and pine needles all over the floor, the tree still dripped rainwater from its branches, the back half of it was completely missing, and Killian’s tools and tackle were scattered over Emma’s kitchen table. Killian himself was shaking the tree to ensure that it was held securely by the fishing wire, and he was even more wet than he had been when they’d gotten home from his multiple trips back to his truck. Suddenly, the whole thing struck Emma, and she burst out laughing. At first, Killian seemed startled, and slightly indignant, but then a slightly sheepish grin overtook his face right before laughter spilled out of him as well. He shrugged his shoulders as he stepped away from the hopeless tree.

“Well, I promised you a real tree. I never said anything about quality.”

Emma’s laughter faded as another emotion overtook her. She looked him up and down as he stood there scrutinizing the tree, his arms crossed. Then he lifted one hand to rub at his jaw, his thumb brushing his lower lip. Emma swallowed as realization crashed over her.

“I love you,” she blurted out.

He turned to her tenderly. “Aye. I love you too, Emma.”

She shook her head in frustration, the look in his eyes clearly telling her he misunderstood. “No. I mean, yes, I love you. But I also love you.”

She puffed out a breath, irritated at her lack of eloquence, and a strand of hair fell across her eyes. Killian stepped forward, reached out, and tucked the strand behind her ear.

“What was that, Swan?”

He had a slight smirk on his face that made Emma want to smack him and take it back, but then she saw the slight widening of his eyes and the way they darted across her face. Insecurity. That was the emotion in his gaze.

She managed a tiny smile. “I just realized as I was standing here . . . all of this, how you’ve gone to all this trouble to give me a Christmas memory I’ve never had before, it’s just . . . “ She bit her lip and crossed her arms, then nervously uncrossed them again. Damn it, why wouldn’t her words make sense? “You’ve always been such a great friend to me, but somewhere, somehow . . . I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His eyes sparkled then as a wide grin filled his entire face. He surged forward, claiming her lips, his hands cupping her face. She melted into it as his thumbs caressed tiny circles on her cheeks. They both changed the angle to deepen the kiss, their lips parting for one another. One of his hands slipped from her cheek to her hair while the other one grasped her waist and yanked her close. Emma moaned as she slipped her arms around his neck. He pulled back, breathless, and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I have been in love with you for so long, Emma, it’s been sheer torture.”

“Then why didn’t you -” he cut her words off with another kiss, and every thought fled her brain. Not that she needed an answer. Prickly Emma Swan with her impenetrable walls? Of course he hadn’t thought he could tell her how he felt.

Their kisses were more frantic now, hungry and full of want. But everywhere Emma’s hands drifted was wet and cold. She pulled back and smiled when Killian chased her lips.

“I’m still wet,” she explained, and an involuntary shiver punctuated her point.

“And cold,” he added with a frown.

He rubbed her arms up and down, the warmth from his palms sending tingles down her spine that had little to do with his body temperature. When he let her go to start gathering up blankets that were tossed about her living room, a shudder of loss went through her. When he bent to light the fireplace, she pouted.

“I uh, guess I’ll go change,” she told him, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“Don’t you dare.” The deep timbre of his voice made her stop in her tracks. When she pivoted back to face him, the smile he was giving her was filled with lustful promise. He quirked a brow as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I plan on warming you up thoroughly, trust me, love.”

She swallowed hard, but forced her voice to sound light and airy when she answered him. “Well you better hurry it up before I get hypothermia.”

He chuckled and quickly got the fire going. Then he stood and laid Emma’s fluffiest blanket out on the floor in front of the hearth, the one with the thick, plush lining. Then he grabbed an oversized quilt and walked – no sauntered, he was sauntering – towards her. He tossed the quilt down on the couch next to her, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he drew her close, kissing her passionately, sending heat skittering across her skin. He loosened his hold on her, yet didn’t break the kiss as he undid the buttons on her flannel shirt. Then he pushed the damp garment from her shoulders, sending it falling to the floor with a plop. It felt wonderful to no longer have the wet fabric clinging to her, but goosebumps rose up on her now bare skin. Killian, his lips still fused to hers, attempted to chase them away as he ran his hands down her arms and up her back. He quickly unclasped her bra, and removed it as well. His hand came around and cupped her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple. Emma moaned, her head tilting back as Killian finally pulled away from her lips. He trailed kisses along her neck, her collarbone, then lower as he sank to his knees. Emma whimpered, however, when he didn’t linger on her breasts, and he chuckled.

“Don’t tease me,” she admonished as she yanked on his hair.

He smirked up at her. “I make no promises.” Then he winked as he unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. As wet as they were, she had to shimmy to help him slide them off. He grasped her hips and kissed her navel, then took the waistband of her panties in his teeth and slid them off too.

He wasn’t through teasing her, however. As soon as she was completely naked, he rose and grabbed the quilt. He wrapped it around her and brushed her lips with a chaste kiss.

“Better?”

Emma debated just dropping the quilt from her shoulders, but she was too curious about what else he had planned. His teasing was driving her insane, but it was also a huge turn on. Still, she couldn’t help kissing him roughly, dragging his lower lip between her teeth.

“A little,” she finally answered, “but is that the best you can do?”

She yelped when he suddenly scooped her up in his arms and then deposited her gently on the blanket in front of the fire. “Patience, love. I’ve waited too long for this to rush it.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and it wasn’t from the fire. She tilted her head up at him. “Can I make one request?”

“Anything.”

“I think you’re overdressed.”

He clearly understood her meaning as a smile lit up his face and he quickly began undoing his own buttons. Emma couldn’t help licking her lips as she watched his shirt fall away, that chest hair that always teased at the top of his shirts on full display. Then he peeled his own tight jeans off, then his boxer briefs, and his arousal for her was on clear display. Her heart beat faster in her chest at the sheer masculinity displayed before her. God, he was a beautiful man! How had she kept him so firmly in the friend zone all these years?

She said nothing, merely opened the large quilt for him to come and join her. They lay down before the fire, wrapped up together in the warmth. As he caressed her and kissed her deeply, Emma had never felt so content and full of want at the same time.

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

Emma blinked her eyes open, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fireplace. Killian’s arms were still wrapped around her. She glanced up to find that he had fallen asleep, too. She took the moment to run her hand along his arm, feeling the strong muscle beneath her palm, then to drag her fingers gently through his chest hair. They were both still naked, but they hadn’t yet made love. They had pleasured one another in other ways – Killian hadn’t been kidding when he said he wanted to take his time – and then in the drowsiness and warmth had drifted off. Emma rolled over to prop herself up on Killian’s chest.

“Babe,” she whispered, tracing his jaw gently with her fingertips. His eyes blinked open and he smiled drowsily at her. “We fell asleep.”

“Aye,” was all he said. Then he tilted his head up to look at her wonky tree. “I suppose it’s dry by now,”

Emma scratched lazily at his chest hair, giving him a coy grin. She shifted higher, the feel of her bare breasts against his chest hair sending a buzz right down to her core. She thought to say something flirtatious, but when her eyes met his, she couldn’t string words together. So instead she kissed him. Lazily at first, and then with aggression. She could feel his body responding beneath her. His hands drifted down her back, then grasped her hips. Words failed him, too. He rolled her over, and that conveyed everything.

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

An hour later, they lay sated and content on their backs amongst the piles of blanket, looking up into the boughs of the Christmas tree. Killian’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her shoulder. Emma breathed in deeply, a gesture of contentment, and the smell of pine filled her senses.

“You know,” she said softly, “you were right. A live Christmas tree is really beautiful.”

Emma enjoyed the feel of his responding chuckle against her cheek. “We haven’t even put the lights on it yet.”

She rolled over to cup his cheek, her thumb tracing the scar beneath his right eye. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow night, and we’ll decorate it then?”

He smiled as he threaded his fingers through her hair. “Alright, love, I’ll be here tomorrow night.” Then he pulled her down for a kiss that curled her toes.

Killian came the next night to help her decorate the tree. Even with the back half missing, the crooked trunk, and the fishing wire hooking it to the window, it was beautiful once it was lit up and covered in tinsel and baubles. When the lights were all out except for the Christmas lights, Emma loved to admire it from the sofa across the room, her feet tucked under her and a mug of cocoa in her hands. But her favorite view of the tree was from underneath, with piles of blankets, and all wrapped up in Killian’s arms.

[dragon-star-light]

Snow Days

This post is for @hpe24 Thank you so much for letting me use your amazing artwork! Y’all should go and check out her blog! The art is fabulous! The picture was perfect inspiration!

Dick’s POV

I look outside the manor’s many windows at breakfast. Snow drifted down covering Wayne property in a fresh untouched white powder. It was the perfect snow for sledding, building, and snowball fights.

I focus back at the table at my three younger brothers who were eating breakfast somewhat calmly compared to normal. The only reason all of were here was a huge snow storm hit last night and Mom didn’t want Jason and I traveling in it back to our homes. Bruce agreed making us stay. It turns out most of Gotham was shut down because for the snow. It was honestly a giant snow day that stretched city wide.

My mom, (F/N), was drink hot chocolate and munching down on waffles entranced by the snow falling outside. She loves snow so much. She grew up in Texas before moving to Kansas and in both place she got to see snow three times and only once got to play in it. When she moved to Gotham, it was amazing for her. It snowed every winter here and when she moved into the manor, it a real Winter Wonderland outside.

Bruce sat at the head of the table reading yesterday’s paper because today’s wasn’t coming while drinking coffee. He on the other hand wasn’t as big of a fan. Growing up Gotham helped him adjust to the fridge weather, but he never viewed it as a Winter Wonderland more like a frozen death trap. But Mom always made him come play in it and it was one of times Bruce would show his true smile.

“So boys,” Mom voice cuts into my reflections and Tim and Damian start to a fight, “Will we all be going outside to have some fun or am I going on my own?” She asks finishing off her the last of her waffles.

“I’m coming with.” I pipe up first finishing my cereal the greatest breakfast food in the world. No way I missing out on a Snow Day.

“Why not.” Jason adds shrugging his shoulders with waffle in his mouth.

“I’m down Mom.” Tim says smiling finishing his second mug of coffee.

“I suppose if Todd and Drake are going to than I will as well Ummi.” Damian explains drinking the last his hot chocolate. This would be his first Wayne family snow. Sucks the girls couldn’t be here they would love it.

Mom turns towards Bruce smiling like a child during Christmas. Bruce glances up smiling gently, “I’ll join all of you later I have a couple things to finish.”

Mom’s smile falters a bit, “Spoil sport; fine but if you don’t I’m dropping snow down your pants.” She threatens playfully glaring but we all knew she would. Bruce holds his hands up in mock surrender and nods to her.

Damian’s POV

I honestly have no clue why snow makes Ummi so happy. It white, cold, frozen rain, and boring. I watch as Dick runs ahead reaching a closet door and swings it open. Inside was jackets, snow pants, boots, gloves, scarves, hats, earmuffs, and other warm apparel. Dick quickly grabs a two tone blue parka with white fur trim around the hood

“Mine!” He yells putting down on a chair before diving back into the cloest with Jason not far along with Tim. Threats and yelling come the cloest as they reach for things yelling mine.

“You might want to get in there before they take anything really good.” Ummi comments casually leaning against the wall gestureing to the fight in the cloest.

“I’ll pass; I’m going to wait till there done acting like children.” I reply crossing my arm rolling my eyes at the antics before me.

Ummi laughs before shrugging, “Tim said that his first year. He got stuck with a bright pink jacket because Steph wasn’t giving the red one up.” I snort at the thought of Tim in a pink jacket.

“Well the girls are not here so it should be fine.” I explain as the boys come out carrying what they wanted. I walk up grabbing a red coat with black sleeves and no hood, black snow pants that looked my size and red snow boots. “See perfectly fine.”

She ruffles my hair laughing, “This time my little bat but just you wait.”

I glance at the other who were all working on their boots. Jason was in leather jacket styled coat without and hood, solid black snow pants, black boots, and red gloves. Tim had a top half black and bottom half red jacket no hood, with black snow pants, red and black boots, and black gloves. Dick had the two tone blue jacket with black snow pants, black boots, and brown gloves.

“Let’s get this snow days started boys.” Ummi cheers going towards the back door. She wraps a stripped green scarf around my neck kissing my forehead. “Don’t get to cold.”

As I step out further cold wind blows into my face and I could feel snowflakes on my eyelashes. Snow nothing but cold. I feel something hit my back. I turn around and glare at the culprit, “Todd you will pay for this!” I pick up snow forming a ball and flinging at him.

Jason’s POV

I laugh hiding behind the snow wall Tim and I built as Damian yells threats from Dick’s and his. “You both will pay for this!” Tim quickly gets up sending one of the snow balls flying. A pissed scream sounds.

“Face shot.” Tim say proudly fist bumping me.

“Stupid brat didn’t see that one coming.” I reply laughing.

Tim laughs along with me, “We should watch ourselves. A pissed Demon Spawn is more dangerous.” I nod forming more snow balls.

“You are correct Drake.” An all to familiar voices says darkly. We glance at each other before slowly looking up to see Damian and Dick standing there with two buckets full of snow. They both laugh and dump the buckets full of cold snow down on top of us. I let out a strangled cry as the freezing cold snow went down my shirt.

“Shouldn’t piss Damian off.” Dick say laughing loudly. I could hear Damian snickering as I move around yelping as the cold snow travels down my back.

“You two are going to pay for this.” I growl tackling Dick to the ground and try to shove snow down his shirt.

Tim’s POV

I scrambled out of the pile of limbs and dart across the snow covered yard towards Mom who was building a family of snowmen. I’m done getting snow shoved in place snow shouldn’t be in.

“Want some help Mom?” I ask as she places the head on the smallest one. She stands back up placing her hand on her hips smiling at me. Her cheeks were tinted red for the cold and her breath was coming out in white puffs.

“That would be great Timmy.” She brushes snow out of my hair before working on the next one. I join in making one myself. “Did you get tired of having snow shoved down you pants and shirt?” Mom ask laughing.

“You saw all that?” I asks placing the middle on top of her bottom.

“Of course I did.” She laughs forming the head placing it on the top of the middle. “Could you hand me that box? It’s time to dress them up a bit.” I grab the box propped up against the tree bringing it back. Inside was old clothes, buttons, and sticks everything you would need to build a proper snowman. “Boys time to dress the snowmen!” Mom shouts causing the fighting to stop; she always stopping fights. The other three come running over smiling innocently with bright red faces.

—— Time Skip ——

Dick’s POV

I stand back admiring the snow family in front of me. Each one represented a member of the family. Bruce and Mom were the center and all of the kids surrounded them with Alfred standing besides Bruce. It was a picture perfect scene.

“Lunch Time!” Alfred calls from the back door. Jason, Tim, and Damian run to the door smiling and playfully shoving each other. I stay back and walk to the manor with Mom. She bends down and picks up a handful of snow packing it a ball.

“What are you doing?” I ask curiously.

Mom smiles up at me a giggle evilly, “I warned your father didn’t I.” I laugh along with her; Bruce was in for a cold surprise.

[theblackestofsuns]

The Post Office

The service windows at my local post office open at nine o’clock in the morning and not one second sooner, but the “lobby” area opens at eight thirty. On a regular day, at a non-holiday time of year, that means that you can go in and check your mail box or buy stamps from a vending machine well before nine. During the holidays, it means that you start lining up as soon as they unlock the doors and then you seethe for thirty minutes until the first clerk who opens her window yells “Next.” Which is a little weird since she hasn’t helped anyone since at least five o’clock the previous day. Maybe it’s all one continuous experience for her. Probably. On Wednesday, I had four boxes to ship out for the holidays but I didn’t have to ship them out right away. I took them to the post office more as a sort of dare. Let’s see if I can do it. Let’s see how bad it’ll be. I got there at about twenty to nine and I was seventh in line. No one in front of me had a lot of stuff to take care of, so I felt like I’d won something. There’s a separate window, on a different wall from the service windows, where you can pick up a package if you’ve got one of those little slips. No one ever knows if they’re supposed to line up there or in the main line, and often they do one and are told they should have done the other. There were three people in line to pick up packages when I got there. At nine, the first window opened and the first customer stepped up. Before she started helping that customer, the clerk yelled to the three people waiting for packages that they had to get into the main line. “There’s only one line,” is what she said. Two of the people had expressions of despair on their faces at first, but they ate it and went to the back of the main line. Which was now about twenty people long. The third man did something a lot of people at the post office do when they are upset. He started talking out loud to everyone who could hear his voice while pretending to be talking only to himself. He’d been there since eight-thirty, waiting patiently, and now he had to go to the back of that long line. He was roundish, walked unsteadily with a cane and had on an enormous NY Giants parka and a small NY Mets cap. I don’t even know if those things go together. The second customer of the day, who was now first in line, said the man could go in front of him. He was called up to the second window almost instantly. The second reason I’m telling this story is that he said to the clerk that he had a slip representing a missed delivery for a package that was not his. Got that? The slip was left at his house and has nothing to do with him, but he thought he’d drop by and sad sack his way to the front of the line to get it straightened out. The first reason I’m telling this story is that the clerk took one look at the slip and said to the man “Sir, this is for UPS.”

[fectless]

3. Pragmatic: Penguins Sledding, Booby Traps

The snow glistens in the fading light, reds and golds contrasting with the deep blue shadows in the way that the landscape usually does when twilight occurs. The sunsets are long now and the actual days and nights short, but Katara can recognize this particular place regardless of the lighting. The area she stands in now is one of the few places in her childhood that had remained unsullied by her mother's death- mostly because this is the first time she's been here since then. Her mother had often found Katara here with her brother- sometimes she would even join them. But Katara no longer plays.

(Katara can remember the last time she had been playing with Sokka- the last time she had felt like a child, and it hadn't been here. No, it had been closer to home on that last day. That last day- the day when joy ended and Katara might as well have become Koh himself for all the bad luck she seems to bring.)

All the same, Katara knows this clearing. In fact, if she were to crest the hill, she is certain that she'll see some child from the village holding a small smoked or salted fish (pinched from the storehouse) aloft, trying to entice penguins into carrying them around. She can almost hear the children giggling.

No, wait. She can hear laughter.

“H-Hey,” a voice calls jovially, “come on, little guys. Wanna go sledding?”

But that voice doesn't belong to one of the village children. That's Aang. And she's responsible for him, too, so she needs to go make sure he doesn't cause the animals to stampede and get himself hurt. So Katara steadies her breathing and makes her way over, just in time to watch the strange boy lunge for an otter-bird and miss. Aang gets to his feet and smiles at her.

“I have a way with animals,” he laughs, proceeding to make a weird “nark-nark-nark” sound and waddle after the penguins.

A smile tugs at her lips as she watches.

It's been a long time since she got to see a child having so much fun. Even now, the mothers don't really like it when she watches the children, often only allowing her to do so when it's time for them to lay down for a spell or if one of them (one of the mothers) is sick. And otherwise, she has so many chores to do that take her from the village or leave her by herself and can only watch from a distance as Sokka tries and fails to mold the younglings into warriors.

So watching Aang try to catch a penguin is a treat. Right now, he's trying to hold one, but the many-limbed otter-bird just drags him along as he grasps at its feet.

The words leave her mouth before she can think to hold them in, “That's not how you catch a penguin, Aang.”

“Really?” He lets go and rolls over to stare at her.

She swallows. He looks so trusting, she can't help but think, so relaxed. Even the children back in the village don't look at her with so much trust, and Sokka and Gran-Gran never... Katara's face goes blank. “Yeah. Here,” she says, forcing away her other thoughts and unthinkingly slipping into one of the few stances that helps her bending, “I'll show you.” And she plucks a small fish from the water.

Immediately the animals start swarming.

But the boy doesn't focus on them. “You're a waterbender!”

Katara's face remains carefully schooled. “Yeah. I am.” Because there's no point in denying it, really. Because she has waterbended without thinking, again, and put someone in danger, again, and obviously she should have known better because even this strange airbending boy from within the ice would know that a Southern waterbender is nothing but bad luck and now he's going to avoid her too.

But instead he says, “That's so cool! I've never met a waterbender before!”

No, I don't suppose you would have, all things considered.

She blinks. “Well, you're looking at the last waterbender from the South Pole.” Nothing much to look at really. Nothing good comes of being a waterbender these days. For her and those nearby especially.

Aang looks so confused. “But a waterbender has to master water. How can you do that if there's no one to teach you?”

(And Katara remembers then: discussions between her parents when she ought to be asleep. How great it is that the South has a bender again; how proud they are that she's theirs; how they'll find someone for her, because a bender has to learn to bend. Then: discussions between her father and Gran-Gran and the rest of the tribe when they think she's out of earshot. How terrible it is that the raids have started coming more frequently; how terrible that a waterbender has attracted firebenders again and caused so many deaths just as things were getting better.)

Maybe I shouldn't.

(Waterbending is a bad thing. A very bad thing.)

She shrugs, throwing the fish at one of the younger-looking penguins and watching as it is chased around.

“What about the North Pole? There are other waterbenders there, right?”

Katara blinks because, yeah, there would be other waterbenders at the other pole, wouldn't there? But she wouldn't really know- doesn't know if there is a North Pole still. “They're pretty far away. We haven't heard from our sister tribe in a long time.” Not since they refused to send aid at the beginning of the war.

And here Aang smiles, his whole face lighting up like an aurora. “But you forget,” he says, pointing at himself, “I have a flying bison. I can personally take you to the North Pole. Katara, we're gonna find you a master!”

She doesn't know what kind of face she's making right now. “That sounds-” There's no way that could happen. But to leave- to go somewhere where her bending isn't a curse, somewhere where she isn't hated or looked down on or known only as misfortune. To be free-

Would mean abandoning everyone that Mom sacrificed herself for.

“I mean,” her hands come to grasp each other and she realizes for the first time that she has lost her gloves. “I don't know, Aang.” His face falls and she feels so guilty. So she throws him a phrase to placate him, much like throwing fish to penguins: “I've never left home before.” Not without meaning to come back. And if she leaves the South Pole, she isn't sure she would ever return.

He still sounds a bit upset, perhaps disappointed, as he says, “Well, you think about it. In the meantime, show me what you did with the penguins again?”

Katara forces a smile onto her face. “Alright. Watch closely.”

And then the penguins mob the young boy as she bends a fish into his hands.

Shortly thereafter, they stand at the top of a cliff, two penguins following them around in the hopes of obtaining more food.

“Let's do this!” Aang hops on the penguin before she can give him one final warning about sledding, and she has to follow along.

But she enjoys it.

The wind pushing the hood of her parka back and whipping her hair-loops around her face; the churning of her stomach as the otter-bird speeds and swirls around in the tunnels of ice and melting snow without care for the destination; the weight of her responsibilities falling away as the penguins soar with no fear of falling... This is the closest to free that she has felt in ages.

So of course the ride ends on a sour note.

The birds slide to a stop on an icy plain and squawk nervously, struggling to rise from under the two of them. Katara pales as she realizes where their reckless sledding- and Aang does, too, though he only stares in confusion at the sight ahead of them.

“W-What is that?”

“A Fire Navy ship and a very bad memory for my people.” Jagged spires of ice hold the metal monstrosity up, the ice around it so solid that Katara cannot see the ocean below despite being mere feet from the water. “It has haunted my tribe since-” she forces the words past the blockage in her throat, “since Gran-Gran was young.”

The air here... Katara shivers. It almost feels as though Father and Lady Tui are just barely holding back a longnight storm.

Movement from the corner of her eye draws her attention. “Aang, wait!” The boy keeps moving. “We're not allowed near it- it could be booby trapped.”

Finally, he pauses, looking over his shoulder at her and grinning. “To be good a bender, you have to let go of fear.” And then he begins climbing the ice to find a way into the ship. (No, ship is too gentle a word for this giant, metal beast. It's too tame to describe what was one of the first strikes against her people.)

She disagrees- to be a good bender is to know when not to do something stupid. But she's responsible for him, which means that if he goes in there and sets off a trap she will be blamed for it. “Aang! Wait- don't.”

Koh take his face! The boy ignores her, just like everyone else does, and she is forced to follow him.

He pauses for only a moment to help her through a hole in the metal thing's side. The boy is easy to spot as he wanders through the monstrosity- his bright clothing contrasting against the dark walls, his steps echoing.

She has to get him out of here. “This was one of the Fire Nation's first attacks.”

Finally, he stops in front of a weapons shelf. “Okay, back up. I have friends all over the world, even in the Fire Nation. I've never seen any war.” He lifts one of the metal spears, a frown forming on his face.

Katara's blood turns to ice. Never seen any- Friends in the Fire Nation- “Aang... How long were you in that iceberg?”

“I dunno-” Katara can feel her feet freezing to the metal beneath her. “-A few days, maybe?”

“I...That doesn't...” Her breath mists into the air. “I think it was more like a hundred years, Aang.”

“What!” He nearly drops the spear as he finally turns to face her. “That's impossible! Do I look like a hundred twelve-year-old man to you?”

“Just- Think about it. The war has been going on for almost a hundred years; you don't know about it- you would have had to have been in there the whole time. It's- it's the only explanation.” The only one that makes sense, at least.

(The spirits play tricks on people, some of them at least, but Lady Tui and Father are too compassionate and serious, Agni too proud, and the patron spirits of airbenders and earthbenders could never be bothered to move someone through time. And lesser spirits aren't powerful enough to do such a thing.)

“A-a hundred years?” The airbender backs away from her, until his legs suddenly give out and he nearly slams against a wall. He holds his head in his hands, hiding his wide, wild eyes from her. “I can't believe it.”

She kneels down beside him, ice melting into cold water, a hand raised to touch him- to offer comfort. But she draws back. Words, too, fail her; she doesn't get farther than a weak, “I-” Because she has lost her mother, her family, her tribe, but the last two are alive still. He has lost his entire people, his home is destroyed, and all this to a war he had not even known existed. Words cannot make things better; and touch from one such as her- a Southern waterbender, of all people, would only make things worse.

They sit in silence until he draws himself to his feet. “There is a bright side to all of this. I know it.”

Katara's heart twists because, A bright side? Truly, this boy before her is so young. Maybe it's good that he can think that.

He at least has Appa. He has made it to her tribe instead of falling into the hands of firebenders who would only try to kill him. Perhaps, if there is a bright side to be found, the good he is able to see stems from those two things.

Aang staggers from the room. She rises to follow him. They have forgotten which way the entrance is and, while they look for it, his foot catches on a wire that had been hidden in a pile of snow and he winces. Katara freezes again.

Bars slide over the door, hissing fills the chamber. She can hear something being shot into the air with a high-pitched whine and Aang asks, “What was that you said about booby traps?”

For a long moment, they stand still, staring at each other with wide eyes. Then they nearly explode into a flurry of motion as they rush to get away. Aang shouts, “Hang on!” and she has to hold back an instinctive flinch as he grabs for her, even as it becomes clear that he is only using his bending to help them escape from the metal monster before something else can go wrong. She stumbles when he sets her down, and even as she leads him back to the village, she can feel her frozen fingers and toes breaking, feel suddenly unsteady limbs shaking as she struggles to breathe. Her heart is beating too hard and too fast and she can almost taste blood in her mouth.

It isn't until she begs, Father, help me, please, that the sensations begin to fade.

(The taste lingers.)

-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-

Katara can see that the village has gathered at the gate as she and Aang crest the last hill. The children cheer as they spot the airbender, rushing out to meet him with smiles and embraces and she can only wonder, What did he do?

Because they clearly like him. Even the shy Xuehuu, who hangs back by her mother instead of rushing forward with the others, looks relieved to see him safe.

They like him almost as much as everyone hates me. The thought is mean, edged with hurt and tinged with the color of La's depths in the midst of a storm; she pushes it away. (Or tries to. It stays like the metallic stain of blood on her tongue, and she does not quite know why that hurts more than having had the thought in the first place.)

As excited as the children are to see their new airbending friend, the adults and Sokka are clearly not.

Her brother rushes forward, face darkening with every step. In his eyes, she can see the reflection of the monstrosity's flare slowly falling from the sky. “I knew it! You signaled the Fire Navy with that flare- you're leading them straight to us, aren't you?!”

Katara can feel the blood of the people surrounding her again; she's going mad. “No,” she mutters. Sokka's head snaps towards her, his heart pumps a little harder. She refocuses. “It was an accident, Sokka.”

“Yeah! We were on the ship and there was this booby trap and, well, we boobied right into it.” His posture and voice are a study in regret; Katara stands firm and cold, body language showing no such signs. Though she does wish he hadn't spoken up.

Here Gran-Gran steps forward, a stern look on her face. “Katara! You should not have gone on that ship.” She stares back at the old woman, unflinching. But her grandmother continues, “Now we could all be in danger.”

The words “because of you,” aren't spoken, but by the look everyone but Aang sports, Katara knows that the tribe is thinking them.

Aang rushes to defend her- tries to take the blame upon himself- and that is when she looks away, because the only one who believes Katara to be blameless is not only wrong, he is not of the tribe. He is a stranger that she is responsible for, that she has brought into the village, a warrior, or the Air Nomads' equivalent- based on his tattoos, and he is honor-bound to defend her, if only for those reasons. Blame for his actions rests with Katara and only Aang himself does not know.

“Aha!” Sokka finger points at the airbending boy, but she feels his eyes rest on her. “The traitor confesses! Warriors,” he calls to the children, “away from the enemy. The foreigner is banished from our village.”

Aang looks heart-broken at this, but Katara- Katara feels only fury. Always, she thinks. Always.

“You're making a mistake,” she says without inflection. She can feel every molecule in her body agreeing with this. The snow beneath her hardens into ice, creeps up to steady her feet. “Aang is not our enemy.”

“No, I'm keeping my promise to Dad. I'm keeping everyone safe.”

Am I included in that “everyone?” Another thought to be dragged away by the tides of her mind and frozen out of reach.

She turns away from her brother, trails her eyes over the crowd, and feels her anger drain. “Gran-Gran, please.” She is so tired, suddenly.

But Gran-Gran shakes her head. “No, Katara, you knew that going on that ship was forbidden.” But she hadn't. Not really. Katara had never been told not to go on the ship. Quite frankly, no one had cared where she went until the men left and more hands were needed to keep the village from starving. More than once, one of the warriors (actual warriors, not the children going through Sokka's attempts at training) had even encouraged her to do something that would probably kill her. “I think it's best if the airbender leaves.”

The airbender. Not Aang. No, because he is a bender, and the South has no use for those.

“Fine,” Katara says. Perhaps Sokka can feel a hint of what Katara means. He is the only one who looks at her, the only one who does not turn away as she and Aang stand on the other side of an invisible line drawn in the snow. She has had years to practice burying what she feels, but this... This has been a long time in coming. “Come on, Aang, let's go.” The ice around her feet thaws; the ice around her heart solidifies. She begins walking towards Appa.

“Katara! Where do you think you're going?”

She stops but doesn't turn around. “The North Pole.”

“You would choose him over your tribe- over your own family?”

Her eyes close. Her mouth opens-

“No. Katara,” Aang interrupts, “I won't come between you and your family.” The airbender says goodbye, hardly letting her get a word in edgewise: “It was nice meeting everyone.”

One of the girls rushes forward, begging him not to leave. Katara can't even look at them.

“I'll miss you, too,” he says.

And then he's gone.

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