#it’s so so interesting. shaking it around in my head like a snow globe

[impossible-rat-babies]

the kinda like. inherent divine-ness of zenos and the wol rattles around in my brain line a ping pong ball

[dem-obscure-imagines]

The Way it Was Before

Bernard the Elf x Reader

Fandom: The Santa Clause

Summary: Something is VERY wrong this Christmas, and it seems you’re the only person in the world who remembers the way things were before. Well, almost the only person. It’s up to you and the Head Elf to save the day before Jack’s wish becomes irreversible.

Note: I was literally possessed by the spirit of Christmas to write this. I still don’t understand how I whipped this up so fast. Also I have a few ideas kicking around for a sequel, so let me know if that’s something you’re interested in! Additionally, I will be uploading this to Ao3, so if you see it on there too, don't worry hahaha

Warnings: Language, a lil violence as a treat (nothing major just literally a few punches lol), a lil angst but a very happy ending <3

Word Count: 14k

Reader is: Female, 23

Well, that was it, then. It was over. You couldn’t help but feel a little torn up about it. You just weren’t cut out for the job, or maybe you didn’t have the magic for it. Whatever the reason, Mother Nature had made it clear. You were not the Spring Enchantress, and this would be your last foray into the Magical Realm for a very long time, if you ever set foot in it again.

Mother Nature had to visit Santa at the North Pole. You weren’t sure why, she didn’t tell you what she was there to pick up, but she did give you some time on your own to explore the Workshop for the last time.

Wanting to get away from the wandering eyes, you found a secluded nook and sat down, resting your head in your hands. You loved the Pole. It was so intricate and beautiful and whimsical and you would never see it again. You’d never step foot in Mother Nature’s Grotto or the Summer Isles, or even Halloweentown.

It hit you all at once and the tears came flowing before you could stop them. You just hoped none of the elves were around to find you. You didn’t want to worry them when they were already so busy.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice asked, drawing your attention to the doorway where he was standing. Bernard, the Head Elf. Your eyes wandered over his shoulder to the sign on the door. Of course, your crying spot had to be directly outside his office. Figured.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” You wiped at the tears, trying to compose yourself. You motioned to the door. “I didn’t realize…”

He shook his head. “That’s alright. Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry, I can—”

“No, you’re no bother at all. Come on in. My couch is a lot comfier than that bench there.” He motioned you forward and you hesitated, but got up and walked into his office, a large, cozy room with forest green walls, hardwood floors, a small fireplace, a cozy couch, and a desk facing it. There was a shelf of snow globes on one wall, a shelf of old leather books on another.

Bernard motioned to the couch and you took a seat while he perched himself on the edge of his desk. He plucked a tissue out of the box and handed it to you, empathy etched in his brown eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“It um…Mother Nature…” You spoke slowly, composing your words. “She said I’m not the Spring Enchantress like she thought. So um…I’m getting my memory wiped and heading back to the Mortal Realm. Tomorrow, I think.”

“Wiped? Like entirely?” Bernard said, horror in his voice.

“I mean, I’ll still know who I was before I started training under her, but…all of the magic stuff, all of this…” You shook your head. “I knew it was all too good to be true.”

“I am so sorry this is happening to you.” He shook his head. “It’s not fair.”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wiping your tears on the tissue he’d given you. “I’m just glad she brought me here one last time. It’s so beautiful here.”

Bernard smiled softly. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small snow globe, waving a hand over it before handing it to you. “Even if you won’t remember this place…I’d like you to take a piece of it with you.”

You took a shaking breath, more tears flowing at his words, at the sincerity on his face, at the beautiful snow globe he’d given you. You stood to accept it and found yourself hugging him instead, seeking comfort from the most powerful elf in the Pole. His arms wrapped tight around you, comforting you at your most vulnerable.

“Thank you. So much. Even if I don’t remember it, I…I think I’ll still know. That it’s real. That all of this is.”

“Believing is Seeing.” Bernard said, meeting your eyes. “Someday, you’ll remember that.”

You hoped he was right…

THREE YEARS LATER

Leaving your Irish Folklore class, you were absolutely buzzing with ideas. It had been an amazing lesson. Your professor was very knowledgeable on all sorts of legends and fantasy creatures, where they’d come from, how stories about them had started. You, as a writer, were planning on using this knowledge to write an epic fantasy romance. You weren’t sure what exactly it would be about; you were still waiting for it to click, but you were sure it would eventually.

You walked to your favorite coffee shop, a little ways from your apartment, and grabbed a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream, your favorite around this time of year, sitting down with your work at your favorite table in the corner of the shop.

You took out your notebooks, comparing the notes you’d taken in class to the ones you had left over from…before. The inklings, few though they were, that had lingered in your mind, even after Mother Nature, yes, that Mother Nature, had supposedly wiped them all from existence. Granted, there wasn’t very much left from your time with her, just a few things: the Northern Lights dancing across the sky as you…as you…no, see, there it was. Nothing.

That was all that was left, pieces. And the snow globe on your shelf that you knew was more than just a snow globe, but you couldn’t remember why. Or who’d given it to you.

Sometimes you felt crazy, pushing against the walls of your memory, begging it for just one more detail, but that was how it had been for the last three years. You knew you weren’t making it up, that it was more than just fantasy, but you couldn’t tell anyone. Not even your therapist. The looks wouldn’t be worth it.

So you kept these things to yourself, jotting them down to get them out of your head. Or, rather, keeping them safe in case someday Mother Nature came to finish what she started, wiping it all away for good.

You worked on an outline for a short story for your creative writing class, but you didn’t feel all that confident in it. You sipped your cocoa some more, which had cooled to perfection, and opened an article you were supposed to read for your Folklore class. Something about elves. Festive, you thought with a chuckle. It was indeed the season for that, especially since that had been your last class before Christmas. A perfect send-off for the end of the semester.

Once you’d gotten a decent amount of work done, you packed up your stuff and headed back to your apartment, setting your bag in your room. You checked a few things off of your To Do List.

Gleaming on the shelf, your snow globe caught your eye. “Believing is Seeing.” You whispered to yourself, eyebrows knitting together when you did. It sounded familiar, but…you weren’t sure why. Or what it meant.

Down in the living room, your roommates were watching Christmas movies. In a few days, they’d both be headed home for the holidays and you’d be left on your own for a few weeks. You didn’t mind all that much. You did well on your own, in the quiet. You were kind of sad about spending the holidays alone, though.

Maybe you could find a community event to attend. A holiday party or something. Maybe your college would be doing something for the students who were staying. You hoped they’d let you attend even though you were a grad student.

On the TV, a cheesy Hallmark movie played out, the city girl deciding the small town she’d stumbled into was actually the perfect place for her and the handsome lumberjack that worked at the Christmas Tree Farm at the edge of town was actually her soulmate. You chuckled. You didn’t believe in soulmates. Not like that, at least.

“Hey, we’re going to a party tonight. Down at the Kappa House. You want to come?” Your roommate, Cindy, asked.

“Oh! Thank you. I’m alright, though. I’ll order some takeout or something.”

“Alright.” Megan, your other roommate, nodded. “How was your class?”

“Good! Yeah, I’ve just gotta finish this essay and then I’ll be good for the semester.”

“That’s good.” She grinned, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

You sat with the two of them until they got ready to leave, dressed in short red dresses, fishnets, and Santa hats. “Call me if you need a DD.”

“Oh we will.” They giggled, stumbling out the door, each armed with a bottle of cheap wine, leaving you on your own in the apartment. You did as you’d said and ordered some takeout, cranking out the rest of your paper and turning on some Christmas movies. Elf, Home Alone, all of the classics were on.

You felt something in the back of your mind, a little tingle. You froze, staring at the screen. You expected another little piece, a sliver, anything, but the feeling faded as quickly as it came. You sighed, setting your container of Lo Mein on the coffee table. Suddenly, you were tired. Maybe some sleep would help. So, after putting your things away and cleaning up after yourself, you changed into your pajamas and headed to bed.

You stared at the ceiling for a while, trying desperately to jog your memory for the little inkling that was about to emerge earlier, but to no avail. You shook your head and turned onto your side.

Believing is Seeing…

***

The next morning, you felt groggy and decidedly weird. You jotted down the dreams you remembered in your journal and went downstairs to get some breakfast to appease your growling stomach. You poured yourself a bowl of cereal with milk and plopped down in front of the TV, all but dropping it in your lap when you saw what was on the screen.

“Come on up to the North Pole, folks! Christmas Wonderland right at your fingertips! This year, we’re opening our Winter Wonderland Water Park, Hotel, and Resort! Pet the reindeer! Take a photo with an elf! And don’t forget to meet Santa!”

“What the Fuck.”

“Oh! See! I told you! We should go! They have a two for one on the Mistletoe Cruise!” Cindy grinned, hopping over the back of the couch. “Rewind it!”

You did as she said, pausing when the prices were on the screen. It just so happened to be when this so-called Santa was also on screen. Taking one look at him, you could tell something was wrong. His height, his voice, but most of all, his hair, which was frosted and spiked up. He may have been wearing the suit, but that was no Santa.

Chills ran up your arm at the sight of him. No, that was no Santa. That was Jack Frost.

It was coming back to you a little now.

“What…the North Pole…?” You murmured, confused.

“Obviously. What, did your parents never take you as a kid?” Megan asked. “We went all the time when I was growing up.”

“I can’t say they did, no…” You shook your head. No, this was bad. Something was very wrong here. Your stomach sank, veins on fire and chills unending.

You got changed at the speed of light and headed out to town, stopping in the book store next to your favorite coffee shop, where on the front rack was this new Santa’s memoir. It was titled, “Becoming Santa” and you doubted anything in it was anywhere near the truth.

You scooped up a copy of it as well as a book on the history of the Pole. There had to be something in there, some hint, some…someone you could contact. You checked out at the counter and headed next door to the coffee shop, spreading out your books and notes. You grabbed a cocoa with extra whipped cream and a shot of espresso. You knew you’d need the caffeine for whatever lied ahead.

You combed the books extensively, rolling your eyes every paragraph as you waded through Jack’s stuffy memoir. It was…impossible. You couldn’t believe this had all happened overnight. Unless there was magic involved. You cracked open the history of the Pole book, which had pictures, thankfully. You were able to look through and see if there was anyone you recognized. The longer you stared at the pictures, the more it confirmed your suspicions. You had been to the Pole before, but not in the capacity your roommates were discussing. It hadn’t been a theme park, a tacky tourist destination loaded to the brim with money-grabs. No, you had been there when it was a gorgeous, beautiful workshop, full of joy and love and…for lack of better word, Christmas cheer.

A single tear slipped down your cheek and you sat back in your chair, taking it all in. You remembered. Most of it, anyway. There were still bits and pieces that wouldn’t click into place just yet.

“This seat taken?” Someone asked.

You looked up, staring for a long moment as his features came into focus, his kind brown eyes, dark curls, a pointed ear sticking out from under his hat. He was the exact same as the last day you’d seen him, right down to the red tunic embroidered in golden symbols, the tassel necklace around his neck.

You gasped softly. “Bernard?”

Click.

His face split into a grin and a wave of relief swept over him as he all but collapsed into the seat across from you. “Thank the stars. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“How could I forget?” You asked, mostly to yourself. You had forgotten him. Well, until now. But it was all coming together. Something about seeing him made everything else, all those loose, scattered pieces, finally come together.

“So far, you’re the only one who remembers.”

“Remembers you?”

“No, remembers…the way things were yesterday.” He lowered his voice and you nodded, eyes wide.

“Okay cool, I’m not crazy. Always nice to know.” You sighed, closing the book and sliding it over to him. “I’ve been looking for…I don’t even know what, to be honest, but I knew it wasn’t right.”

“That’s…yeah.” He nodded, flipping through the book before closing it again.

“So what’s going on?”

“No idea. I was on my way out of the Pole when it hit, which is probably why I was spared. All of the elves…” He shook his head, arms crossed. “I don’t have any magic. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Why me?” You asked softly, voice breaking at the edges. “How did you find me?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since everything happened. I’m really sorry. What happened to you isn’t fair and I understand if you want to stay out of it, but I need your help. You’re the only person I have left.”

“I was on your team the second you sat down.” You told him, earning a tired smile. “So I did find…something. Um…Santa. Our Santa, I mean. When did he…?”

“He put on the coat in 1994.” Bernard replied with certainty.

“Okay that’s not good.” You opened Jack’s memoir to his origin story, in which he claimed to have become aware of his Santa Powers in the same year on the same night. “That never happened. Jack…he must have gone back in time and overwritten things.”

“How would he even have done something like that?” Bernard asked, taking the book from you and reading through the section you’d underlined.

“Father Time,” you mumbled. “Maybe he did something to Father Time.”

“Maybe.” Bernard nodded. “He’s in London. Big Ben. We can head there. But first, we need to find our Santa and pray that he remembers too. If not, our goose may already be cooked.”

***

Bernard ordered a drink for himself and the two of you left the shop, sticking a nice tip in the jar on the way out. You led Bernard to your apartment. Your roommates were still there, buzzing about their impending trip to the North Pole.

“I thought you guys were going home to see your families for the holidays.” You said, prying to see just how much they had changed in this new reality.

“Oh right, right, we were, but this deal is just too good to pass up, you know? My parents will understand. We’ll just celebrate…over spring break or something.”

“Yeah, yeah same. It’ll be fine, I’ll just mail them their presents.” Megan agreed, going right back to vacation planning with Cindy.

You gave Bernard a look that he returned before the two of you went up to your room. You pulled open your laptop and sat on the floor, Bernard looking around your room, eyes careful, admiring every detail until he found it, the snow globe he’d given you still sitting on the shelf.

He smiled softly, picking it up and giving it a shake before setting it back. “You still have it.”

“Of course I do. I’ve had it in all of my apartments. I don’t move anywhere without it.” You smiled and paused, thinking. “Did you…use your magic on it when you gave it to me? Maybe that’s what’s bringing my memory back.”

“No, I only used my magic to inscribe the plaque.” He explained, pointing to where the words were inscribed in curling cursive words, Believing is Seeing. “Something else is protecting your memory, even now.”

“Mother Nature?” You wondered quietly. Then again, if she wanted to protect your memories, why would she have wiped them in the first place? It didn’t make sense, so instead, you turned your attention to Google. “Alright, what’s Santa’s government name? As long as Jack didn’t kill him, we should be able to find him.”

��Scott. Scott Calvin.” Bernard replied, sitting on the carpet beside you, leg brushing against yours. “When we found him, he was living in Illinois. He might still be close to there now.”

“Scott Calvin…” You said quietly, typing his name in the search bar along with Illinois to attempt to narrow down the search results. It was common name, but hopefully not too common. You scrolled through hits from Facebook, showing Bernard the profile pictures to see if there was one he recognized. After all, you never saw Santa when he was still human, only as the Big Man himself.

“There! There, that’s him!” Bernard pointed to one of the Scotts. You clicked on his profile and started scrolling.

Marriage Status: Divorced

Employment: Frost Toys, Illinois

“Frost Toys.” You read, sounding deflated. “Even he’s working for Frost.”

“Can you get a phone number? His business phone maybe?”

“Can do.” You hopped onto his LinkedIn and found his contact, punching in the number and handing your phone to Bernard.

He waited while it rang, shaking his head when it booted him to voicemail. There was a long beep and Bernard said, exasperated, “Hey Scott, this is Bernard. If you remember me, remember anything, please call back. We’re going to fix all of this.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to you, looking disappointed.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Having trouble believing that at the moment.” He exhaled, frustrated. “This is bad.”

“On a scale of zero to plastic Santa…?”

He chuckled, mood lightening the tiniest bit. “You heard about that?”

“It was the talk of the meeting that month.” You laughed, remembering. Your smile faded when you remembered who else had been at that meeting. Maybe that was where Jack had gotten his messed up little idea of world domination.

“I’d take three of that guy before this.” Bernard shook his head. “What now?”

You thought before shrugging. “I guess we’re going to Illinois.”

“You’re serious? You’re coming with me to get Scott?”

“Or what, let you do this on your own? No way. Help me get some stuff together. I just put gas in my car so we should be good for a while.”

He smiled, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him. “Alright, what do you need?”

As quickly as you could, you gathered up the absolute basics: a pair of pajamas, an extra set of clothes, your toothbrush and toothpaste, your hairbrush, extra fuzzy socks, and a phone charger. Once the two of you were done, you stopped in the kitchen to load up on snacks and drinks for the long car ride, garnering looks from your roommates.

“Hey, who’s the guy?” Cindy asked, having missed him on his way in, apparently.

“I’m Bernard, a friend of (Y/N)’s. We have, uh, History together. History class, that is.” He offered his hand, but neither of them shook it, still too wrapped up in their phones and the cruise tickets they were busy booking.

“Ohhhh, right, I think I remember her mentioning you.” Megan nodded, agreeing. “You two going somewhere?”

“Illinois.”

“Why?” Cindy asked. “What’s in Illinois?”

“We’re going to see The Bean. I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.” You shrugged. “Probably cheaper than a North Pole trip, too.”

“The Bean…” Bernard chuckled, shaking his head as he shoved a box of Rice Krispy Treats in the snack bag along with some Hershey Kisses and a bag of Twizzlers.

“Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, pack some salty stuff for me,” you muttered, elbowing him.

“Heh, right. Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly, packing a few saltier options that would appeal to your human taste buds.

“We probably won’t be back by the time you two leave, so…lock up good, alright?” You asked, meeting each of their eyes.

You loved your roommates. You knew they weren’t usually like this, dropping literally everything for a vacation. It was something about this timeline. Christmas wasn’t…happy like it was supposed to be. It was a bitter, greedy thing that was pushing these girls, who loved their families very much, away from their loved ones during the holidays. It made you sick.

“You alright?” Bernard asked, noticing the moment you began to space out. The last thing he needed was to lose you, too.

“I’m good, yeah. Let’s go.”

***

Hauling your little suitcase and your bag full of snacks, the two of you walked out of the apartment to where you’d parked your car. Thankfully, it was still there, one of the things the new timeline seemed to have no effect on. You slid your suitcase onto the back seat and Bernard set the bag of snacks on the floor in front of the passenger seat.

You settled into the driver’s seat, turning on the car and adjusting the temperature and the mirrors. Bernard fiddled with the radio, looking for Christmas tunes and finding them, catching the end of White Christmas just in time for an announcement from the radio host.

“We’re playing your favorite Christmas Hits all day, 24/7. That was White Christmas by Michael Bublé, up next, Santa’s new hit single, Come Meet Santa.”

“You’re kidding me.” You groaned as an insufferable song started blaring from the speakers, Jack singing about his fancy new resort at the Pole.

“He’s got the reindeer in a petting zoo?” Bernard asked, disheartened as he listened to the lyrics.

“Oh my god…” You shook your head. “We’ve gotta find Scott.”

You connected your own Christmas playlist to the aux cord, doing away with Jack’s twisted idea of Christmas and set up navigation to the Frost Toys office building in Chicago. You figured even if it wasn’t exact, it would get you close enough to Scott by the time he called you back. Well, you hoped he would. Hope was kind of all the two of you had.

You drove out the front gates of your college campus and started heading towards the highway. “Let me know if you need a bathroom break or anything.”

“Alright.” Bernard nodded, still looking tense.

“Did you…try to call the Pole? I don’t know if there’s a special number for that or…?”

“I did. Customer Service put me on hold.”

You blinked. “Customer Service?”

“Yeah we didn’t have that department yesterday.” Bernard crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut in what you were sure was the immense stress of the situation. “Sounds like Curtis is in charge up there now, though. It’s like I never existed.”

“Oh.” You said, turning on your blinker to get in the faster lane. “I’m really sorry, Bernard.”

“Yeah, it’s…we’re gonna fix it.” He insisted, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “We have to.”

“We will.” You assured him.

He chuckled darkly. “This whole time, all I’ve been able to think about is how…this…what I’m going through now is what you’ve been going through for the past three years.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t really know what I was missing out on until today.”

“How do you mean?”

“Something about you showing up jogged my memory. Before that, it was just little tiny bits and pieces. If it weren’t for your snow globe, I definitely would have thought I was losing my mind. I remembered Mother Nature and the…role she played in this, I guess, but I could not have told you what she looks like. All I’ve had is the idea of her.”

“And now?”

“Now I remember. Pretty much everything, I think. Santa, the Pole, you, all of it.”

“Well that’s good for us.” Bernard chuckled.

“And when it’s over, I’m sure she’ll just…wipe me all over again.”

“I will see to it myself that that does not happen.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe she ever did that to you to begin with. Lead you on like that just to drop you like nothing happened.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, I just…like I said to you that day in your office—I think, it’s still a little fuzzy—I always knew it was a little too good to be true. I always felt like I just…I was the puzzle piece that didn’t fit. That there was this big, beautiful, magical world out there, but I wasn’t meant to…be part of it, I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Bernard shook his head. “I’m 1600 years old and I’ve never met someone who doesn’t have a place. And having met you, I can guarantee you do belong. If Mother Nature can’t see that, then that’s her loss.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“You know, we can always use a hand in the ornament department.”

“I’d work anywhere you stuck me just to be able to hang out at the Pole again.”

“See, that’s the spirit.” He laughed.

The two of you drove for a handful of hours and you did decide to stop for gas, just to be safe. That, and you were really craving a gas station slushee. So, you filled the tank while Bernard grabbed the two of you some slushees for the rest of the drive down.

While he was standing there, there was a weird, floaty feeling about him. For a moment, his hands began to fade, sparkles taking their place, but as soon as you walked through the doors, the bell jingling above your head, the feeling went away and he exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling solid again.

“You alright?” You asked, voice hushed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding before daring to meet your gaze. Never in his millennia and a half had he ever felt so weak.

“Bernard?”

“I’m fine!” He insisted, raising his voice slightly, but softening when he met your eyes again. “Sorry, I’m…fine.”

“Hang in there.” You whispered, standing closer to him. “I can’t lose you, too.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. The two of you went back out to the car, sipping your slushees and turning the Christmas music back on when it was interrupted suddenly by an incoming call.

You looked at Bernard and he reached over, putting the call on speaker. “Hello?”

“Bernard? Is that you?” Santa’s voice came out of the speakers and you sighed in relief.

“Santa? Oh thank the stars.” Bernard closed his eyes, a long breath working out of his lungs.

“What the hell is going on? Where are you?”

“We’re about an hour from Frost Toys. We did some research and found this, uh, new job of yours.”

“Don’t get me started.” He chuckled. “I’ll send my apartment address. Does this number work? Whose phone is this, I didn’t know you had a cell phone.”

“I don’t. It’s a long story, but I’m with a friend and we’re on the way.”

“Good. Well then, I’ll see you two soon. The sooner the better.” Scott sounded very relieved. He hung up and texted over your new destination, which was just a little ways further than the building you were already heading towards.

With new fervor, you pulled out of the gas station and got back on the highway, reaching Scott’s apartment with speeds even Bernard was impressed by. You pulled into the parking garage, got your little orange slip to put on the dash, and took the elevator into the building. Scott buzzed you upstairs and you met him outside the door of the snazzy, modern downtown apartment. At the very least, this timeline had given him a cushy job. He ushered the two of you inside.

“Bernard.” Scott greeted, hugging his Head Elf briefly before the two turned back to you. “I’ve never been so relieved to see you.”

“Likewise.” Bernard sighed.

“And you are…?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” You introduced, offering your hand. “I don’t expect you to—”

“Oh! You were Mother Nature’s apprentice for a bit, weren’t you?” He asked, remembering.

“Yeah. That was me.” You nodded, deciding to spare him the gritty details. “I’m here to help save Christmas.”

“That might be easier said than done…”

“(Y/N) thinks Jack might have used time travel to do this. We were planning on going to see Father Time to see if any of this is something he can fix, or…or if Jack did something to him and that’s how he accomplished all of this.”

“It wasn’t Father Time.” Scott shook his head. “Jack tricked me with a wishing snow globe. Made me wish I had never been Santa and…took the coat for himself.”

“Oh.” Bernard murmured, nodding. “The Escape Clause. Well that would do it, then.”

“There’s gotta be some way to undo this.” Scott said. “It can’t just be over. This can’t be it. Carol…she doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Mrs. Claus?” You asked softly and he nodded solemnly.

You’d met her on a few occasions and she had always been so nice to you, relieved to have another human-ish woman at the Pole, as she said, which always earned a laugh from you. And now, she was a school principal again at a public school who didn’t believe in Christmas anymore. Even Mrs. Claus wasn’t safe from Jack’s trickery.

“Okay, so…we go to the Pole, then. Get…plane tickets, I guess. My roommates were planning their vacation there when we left, so if they can do it, I’m sure we can.”

“Definitely.” Scott nodded, searching for tickets on his phone.

“We go there, find that snow globe, and undo all of this, set it right, the way it’s supposed to be.” You said, determined.

“You think it’ll work?” Scott asked Bernard and he thought over it for a long time before nodding.

“It has to.”

***

Scott booked three tickets for the earliest flight in the morning, at five. You changed into pajamas so you could attempt to get some sleep, and Bernard put something on the TV. You emerged from Scott’s guest bedroom, face wiped clean of makeup, hair freshly brushed, and cute little penguins on your pajama pants. Bernard grinned.

“What?”

“Penguins?”

“I thought they were cute.” You defended, shrugging as you plopped down on the couch next to him.

“I never said they weren’t.” He shrugged, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Hey, pizza sound good, you two?” Scott called from the kitchen.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Bernard agreed, flipping channels until he found what he was looking for. Ah yes, the Christmas movies. Specifically, the stop-motion Rankin/Bass movies you’d watched during your childhood. Absolute classics.

You gasped, childlike wonder filling your features. “Oh, I love this one.”

“You like these movies?”

“I’ve seen just about all of them, I think. We always used to watch them when I was a kid. These were my childhood. I like them a lot more than the Hallmark movies my roommates are always watching.”

“Rightfully so.” Bernard agreed. “These guys just…got it.”

“Better than anyone else.” You sat criss-cross on the couch. “Riddle me this, Mr. Head Elf, is Rudolph real?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N), but no, he is not.”

“No! What? You’re lying!” You covered your face with your hands. “My life is a lie.”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” He laughed. “Rudolph is not one of our reindeer. The rest all are, though. Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen.”

“Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen?” You asked.

Bernard smiled, proud. “Precisely.”

“Hey,” Scott held the phone away from his face for a second, covering the microphone with his hand, “pepperoni good? Thin crust?”

“Sounds good to me, Santa.” Bernard gave a thumbs-up. He could not, for the life of him, remember the last time he’d even had pizza.

“Yeah, I love thin crust.” You agreed.

“Great.” He nodded and walked back towards the kitchen again, finalizing the pizza order.

The commercial break hit with, of course, an ad for the North Pole Waterpark and Resort. There were clips of miserable elves playing games in the arcade, forced to work as lifeguards in the waterpark, facilitating the reindeer petting zoo.

You frowned, that familiar feeling of dread settling into your stomach again. This was awful.

“That’s Betty, there, in the green. Third in command. Second, now, I guess. She looks…”

“Miserable.” You finished.

“Yeah.” Bernard nodded. He let out a frustrated shout. “I can’t believe this is happening! Look at them! Look at what he’s done to the Pole!”

Bernard took a shaking breath and slumped back against the couch, his lack of magic hitting him once again and that floaty, sparkly feeling returning.

“Bernard?” You asked, voice rising in concern.

“It’s my magic. The magic of the Pole, of Christmas, everything. Elves are…well, we’re basically made of magic, so if we don’t fix this, and soon…” He shook his head, words trailing off into hopelessness.

“Take some of mine.” You said, quiet, but certain.

He stared at you for a long moment. “What?”

“Take some of my magic.” You told him, more confident this time.

“You still have magic?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“And no idea how to use it, but you do. You need it more than I do right now.”

“O-okay.” He nodded, sitting up a little straighter.

You unfurled your legs, turning to face him. You turned his hands so they were in a receiving position and placed your palms on his, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes to focus yourself, tuning into the fragments of magic still inside of you and then pushing them towards him, through his hands, up his arms, into his chest.

He flinched a little at the feeling, the sharp, cold tingle, but his eyes widened when he saw it, your magic, flowing into him. It was iridescent, teal and purple and pink and blue, waves ebbing and flowing, its gentle glow lighting up your features in the dim room, your hair blowing around softly in the gentle breeze it created.

It looked like the Northern Lights.

He pulled away after a few long moments, stopping the flow. You opened your eyes to look at him.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, concern etched deep in your gaze, pulling at his heart strings in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries.

“A lot better. Thank you,” he said. “But save some for yourself. That might be what’s protecting your memories.”

“Right.” You nodded, thinking. “That makes sense.”

It was quiet, the murmur of the TV the only sound other than Scott in the kitchen, getting dishes out in anticipation of the pizzas arriving, their ceramic clattering against the fancy marble counters you’d spotted on your way in.

You looked at Bernard, really looked at him for the first time. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been crushing on him a little bit, back when you were acquaintances, when he was the knowledgeable, responsible, somewhat stern Head Elf with a heart of gold and you were Mother Nature’s apprentice, vying for a destiny you would not receive.

You remembered the way your heart would lurch when he peeked into the meetings you sat in on, with the rest of the Legendary Figures, and occasionally, the Guardians of the Seasons, if their presence was necessary.

One of the other elves, you were pretty sure her name was Abby, had given you a tour the first time you were there, she’d introduced you to him, and she’d also called to attention the way your cheeks went rosy the moment you walked away from him.

You wondered if he thought of you, if he had those memories too, tucked away someplace special, or if you were just another passerby in his long, long life. Sometimes you almost forgot he was hiding a thousand years behind that youthful face.

Sitting there, you weren’t sure if it was him who started leaning in or you, but it stopped as soon as Scott called for you from the other room, like a scratched record in the middle of a sweet, slow Christmas ballad, pulling you both back down to reality.

“Pizza.” You chuckled, standing up from the couch. Maybe it was the lighting, but you swore Bernard’s cheeks were rosier than they had been before.

“Right. Pizza.”

The two of you walked out to the kitchen together and sat on the barstools pulled up to the counter, grabbing slices of the thin-crust pepperoni.

“So, I booked the North Pole tickets. I also booked us tickets from there to London…Just in case.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Bernard chuckled.

“Hey, you look better.” Scott noted.

“I’m feeling a lot better, too.” Bernard motioned to you. “(Y/N) here still has a few tricks up her sleeve.”

“Good. We’re gonna need all the magic we can get.”

***

You didn’t get very much sleep before your alarm went off. It had been about what you were expecting. You never slept well when you were stressed.

You did, however, have a dream.

You were sitting in a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians, the two of them that were left after the Spring Enchantress’ retirement. Of course, you were training up to fill the position, so it wouldn’t remain empty for long.

Mother Nature led the meeting, held in the giant tree at the center of her Grotto, glancing at her watch every few minutes until finally, he showed up. Jack Frost. Even then, chills ran up your spine, though, at the time, you were convinced it was a side effect of his existence in general.

“Sorry I’m late, ladies. Had quite the hold up in Toronto.” He shrugged, sliding into the fifth seat at the round table, a snowflake embedded in the crystalline mosaic on the table’s surface. “What are we talking about?”

“You, actually.” Mother Nature stated, sitting up straighter. “We were wondering how the search for the Aurora was going, since you’ve elected to take on the task yourself.”

“Ah, yes, well, it’s certainly not easy. Winter Guardians don’t just fall from the sky, you know. But I’ve searched all of the places she used to pop up. Hence my overlay in Canada.” Jack shrugged. “And besides, it’s been five centuries since we’ve had one, I think we’re doing just fine without her.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” The Autumn Witch, a gorgeous young woman named Amber Sanderson, interjected, meeting him with her sharp gaze. Her long, curly orange hair was as beautiful as the autumn leaves, brown skin smooth and ageless, even after her thirty or so years on the council. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

“Then what would you say, Ms. Sanderson?” Jack countered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “If you have a problem with the way I’m running things, I’d prefer if you were forward about it.”

“We have been.” Evangeline Cho agreed, the Summer Sorceress. As her season had just started, she was glowing even more brilliantly than she usually did. “Every year, winter creeps further and further into autumn and spring. And it seems you haven’t done anything to stop it.”

“What, I can’t control that! I’m getting more powerful! It’s merely a side effect.”

“Which is precisely why we need someone on this council who can control their abilities. Such as an Aurora, which you were tasked with finding nearly a century ago, Frost.” Mother Nature stated, her voice cool and even. “If you’d like one of us to find her instead—”

“Oh no, no, that won’t be necessary. I promise you, by next winter, we will have an Aurora again and I’ll go back to managing snow days and frosting window panes.” He drew an X over his heart. “Cross my heart.”

“Excellent.” Mother Nature nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”

You blinked awake in time with Mother Nature’s gavel, staring at the ceiling of Scott’s guest room. That wasn’t a dream. You were certain. It was a memory. You’d have to tell the others.

***

Once your alarm went off, you got dressed and met Scott and Bernard in the entryway of the apartment. Bernard, who hadn’t changed his clothes, had one pointed ear sticking out the brim of his hat, a dead giveaway if there ever was one. You rummaged through your carry on and produced a knitted hat you’d made a few years back, motioning to his ear.

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” He nodded, swapping his usual headwear for the hat you gave him, slipping it on with ease. “Where’d you get this?”

“I made it. I knit.”

He chuckled, checking his reflection to make sure he was covered well. “Well aren’t you just full of surprises?”

“As we’re both learning.”

Scott drove the three of you to the airport and you arrived early, hoping your plane would be a little ahead of schedule, but when you found it was actually delayed an hour, it gave you time to grab drinks at the coffee shop.

“Hot cocoa, shot of espresso, extra whipped cream, please.” You ordered, Bernard just behind you.

“I’ll have the same, but make it a double shot.”

“Coming right up,” the barista nodded, setting to work.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, filling the sky with orange and pink, sunlight glistening on the icicles hanging from the windows. You smiled, appreciating the quiet moment despite the dread looming overhead.

Once your drinks were ready, you joined Scott on a chair near the windows.

“So um, I had a dream last night. I think it was a memory from before.” You said, not sure how else to bring it up.

“What was it about?” Scott asked, curious.

“I was at a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians. Jack was there, sitting in for…the Aurora, I guess.”

“The Winter Aurora.” Bernard replied, nodding.

“What is that?” Scott asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Well, there’s a Guardian for each season, often a woman, gifted with the powers of that specific time of year. They work with their Legendary Figures to oversee the flow of time and ensure everything is on schedule. The Spring Enchantress, the Summer Sorceress, the Autumn Witch, and the Winter Aurora.” Bernard explained. “We haven’t had an Aurora at the Pole in 500 years…”

“Well that would explain why I’ve never heard of her.” Scott nodded, thinking. “So Jack took her job?”

“Yeah, they were talking about his…powers increasing, I’m assuming because he was getting buffed by her powers in addition to his. And how winter is creeping into autumn and spring because of it.”

“That’s not good.” Bernard shook his head. “The seasons have to be balanced. Jack’s hunger for power is messing up the eco system.”

“Mother Nature said he was supposed to be looking for her, and I don’t know…maybe he just…wasn’t looking.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Bernard took a long sip of his cocoa. “I’ll add that to the top of my list as soon as we get everything else back to normal.”

As soon as you finished your drinks, the plane started boarding, so you followed after Scott and onto the plane. Through the windows in the walkway, you could see the plane, giant, winter blue, and emblazoned with a giant picture of Jack Frost’s Santa impression, giving a thumbs-up.

“I’m gonna puke.” You rolled your eyes.

“Ditto.”

The three of you boarded and settled into your seats, all in a row. Scott had brought his laptop along to do some research on the flight. He figured it was better to go in with something of a plan than be blindsided by whatever you found on the other side. You had a feeling the Pole would look a lot different than last you’d seen it.

You settled into the window seat and got as comfortable as you could. For a supposedly luxury flight, the seats were surprisingly stiff. Knowing Jack, you should have expected him to cut corners, even in his power fantasy brought to life.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Bernard asked, voice soft.

“As well as I can, I guess.” You shrugged. “I’m glad I’m not doing this alone.”

He nodded, eyes meeting yours, soft and serious. “I am, too.”

A lady in a flowery dress walked past, her perfume so strong, you caught a whiff of it from the window seat, its floral scent immediately tickling your nose. You tried your best to suppress the sneeze, but to no avail. You sneezed two times, waiting for a third, but it never came.

“Jeez.” You shook your head, reaching for the Benedryl in your bag.

“What’s that for?”

“My allergies. That lady’s perfume was pretty strong.” You chuckled.

“You have allergies?” Bernard asked, eyes narrowing. “Spring allergies.”

“…Yeah?”

“You have spring allergies and Mother Nature thought you were the new Spring Enchantress?” Bernard asked, looking skeptical. He knew Mother Nature. She was an intelligent, almost all-knowing being. He knew she wouldn’t make a mistake that obvious.

“That part never made sense to me either.” You shrugged.

“She thought you were a Spring, but…you’re obviously more of a Winter. I might be a bit biased, though.” He smirked.

Your heart raced when he said it, the realization hitting you that he was flirting. You were getting hit on by Santa’s Head Elf. That was something not everyone could say.

“I mean, I was born in December. The 21st.”

Suddenly, his flirting demeanor was gone, replaced instead by a look of realization, like you had just given him the last piece of the puzzle he’d been trying to solve since the day you left the Pole. “The Winter Solstice…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let me see that, Santa.” Bernard took the laptop from Scott’s lap desk, clumsily navigating with the mousepad and punching something into the search bar. “Where was it your parents are from, (Y/N)?”

“I grew up in South Carolina. We were supposed to live in Michigan, but Dad got a job opportunity at the last minute, so we moved right after I was born.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Traverse City.”

“Hmm…” Bernard clicked through articles a bit before finding a story that made your heart race. “Is…Is this the house?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s…Oh my god.” You covered your mouth, reading through the article. Three months after your family had moved out, there had been a freak snow storm that took out half the houses in the neighborhood. And your house had been hit the worst, the roof over what would have been your nursery was caved in completely.

“Jack hasn’t been not looking for the Aurora. He’s been killing her every time she’s popped up.” Bernard concluded, a horrified look on his face.

“Wait. So you’re saying…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m…”

“Mother Nature appointed you Spring Enchantress to throw him off of your scent.” He said. “That has to be it. It’s the only explanation.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, fingers shaking as you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I…I mean, wouldn’t I know? I’m not…special. Not like that…”

“Are you kidding me?” Bernard asked, incredulous. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. (Y/N), I’ve seen your magic. It’s the only think keeping me alive right now. It…” He reached for your hand, positioning your palm so it was facing upwards and as soon as he did, a wave of stunning Northern Lights glowed between your fingers. “Do you see that? I’ve seen Aurora magic. This is that. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner…”

“Woah.” Scott muttered, eyes falling on the scene unfolding between the two of you.

You curled your fingers, pulling the magic back into yourself and extinguishing the light. You sat with it for a moment and met Bernard’s gaze. “He tried to kill me.” You murmured, tears brimming in your eyes. “He tried to kill me for…for power? For a title?”

“We’re not going to let him get away with it.” Scott stated, fire in his gaze. “We’re not going to let him get away with any of it.”

You felt a tingling on your head and watched as white trickled from your scalp down to the ends of the piece of hair at the front of your face. Your heart raced and you touched the hair with shaking fingers.

It was real now. You were the Winter Aurora. And you had a feeling the closer you got to the Pole, the more evident that would become…

***

By the time the plane landed, the three of you were settled on a plan. Scott, Jack’s biggest priority, would cause a distraction, buying time for you two. Bernard would find the elves and try to snap them out of it. You, as the only one Jack wouldn’t fully recognize, would go find the snow globe and get it to Scott so he could undo his wish and fix everything.

Was it a perfect plan? No. But it was all you had, so it would have to be enough.

You walked off of the plane together, hoping the streak of white in your hair wouldn’t draw too much attention. Once you were inside the gates, the three of you huddled, finalizing your plan.

“You’re going to be fine on your own? Do you know how to get to the snow globe room?” Scott checked.

“I’m…being here…yeah, I’m definitely gonna be able to find it.” You nodded, still completely blown away by the powerful waves of magic, hitting you all at once for the first time. “It’s all coming back to me.”

Bernard grinned, hopeful. “Good. Good luck.”

“You too. Stay safe. I…I really don’t trust him. What he’s capable of…” You said warily.

The Head Elf shook his head, confident. “Is nothing compared to what you are.”

“Let’s save Christmas.” Scott announced.

The three of you split off. You watched as Bernard and Scott walked away together, Scott playfully nudging Bernard. About what, you couldn’t be certain, but you had a pretty good feeling it had something to do with you.

Cheeks flushed for more reason than one, you took off, following the swirling feeling around your heart, dodging past security elves with a stealth and speed you didn’t know you possessed. It was like muscle memory, suppressed very deep in the core of your being. A power you had never tapped into, but one that was quick to embrace you. You felt it in your soul, the Pole wanted you there, and it was very glad you’d returned.

Following the instructions Scott and Bernard had given you, you walked briskly down the corridors, slinking past bakery elves on their way to one of the many tourist eating spots. The workshop itself sat big and empty, barely an elf in sight. The few that were there looked tired, sad, working on tacky Santa Claus bobble heads and cheap gift shop pens. It broke your heart.

Distant voices echoed against the cavernous halls. In your mind, you heard echoes, too. Laughter and love and light, elves building toys, creating things together, working to make the kids of the world happy, no matter what it took. The workshop had been wrapped in pine trim and string lights, warm and bright.

Now, it sat dark and empty.

You wiped a tear from your cheek and continued down the hall, to where the entrance to the Hall of Snowglobes was. And at its entrance, was Betty, who stared at you for a long moment as though trying to place where she recognized you from, but quickly shook it off.

“You can’t be back here. No visitors allowed. I can escort you back to the main area, though.” She offered, smiling.

“Your name is Betty, right?”

She hesitated. “How did you…? Nevermind that, you’re still not allowed back here.”

“I have to be back here.” You told her. “It’s important. The fate of Christmas depends on it.”

“Well, the fate of Christmas depends on me doing my job, so if you’ll follow me this way.”

“I can’t do that, Betty.” You shook your head. “And I know you don’t want to either. Don’t you see that all of this is wrong? That what Jack’s done to the Pole, the capitalism, the resort, the gift shops, the reindeer in the petting zoo, this is not what Christmas is supposed to be. You know that. I know you know that.”

Betty’s features saddened and for a moment, you thought you’d won her over until she reached for a walkie talkie. “Security, we’ve got a tourist that needs to be removed from the Workshop.”

“Great.” You huffed, summoning your power to your hand, just as Bernard had shown you. But instead of sending a blast of energy at her, you let it slowly waft over, rainbow colors and dancing lights slowly enveloping her. As the magic hit her face, she blinked through it, eyes awash in the pinks and teals and purples. Yet another streak of white flowed through your hair.

She dropped to her knees and stared up at you, tears in her eyes as it all came flooding back. Her voice fell to a whisper. “You’re our Aurora.”

“I am.” You nodded, feeling confident in your title for the first time. “And I need your help. We don’t have much time.”

“Bernard, he’s gone! He—”

“He came here with me. We have to hurry. We need that snow globe.” You told her and she nodded.

You helped Betty to her feet and she ushered you into the Hall of Snowglobes, carefully plucking the little glass orb that had started all of this off of its pedestal and handing it to you. You held it with careful hands, admiring it. It was beautiful, if not absolutely dangerous.

“We’ve gotta get this to Santa.” You told her.

She nodded, following you out of the Workshop and into the bustling center of town, an absolute sensory overload if there ever was one. Tourists packed the streets, vendors were shouting over the noise, and above it all, speakers were blaring Jack’s Christmas Album, each new song worst than the one before it.

There was a massive stage, covered in fake ice and bright lights, and on said stage, was him, Jack Frost in all of his faux Santa glory, his red suit iced at the ends, hair spiked and ridiculous, like icicles. Behind him, was a row of toy soldiers and in their grasp was none other than Bernard, eyes wide in fear as Jack manifested a blast of snow in his hand.

“(Y/N)!” Scott shouted over the crowd, waving wildly to get your attention.

“Get this to Scott.” You handed the snow globe to Betty, urgency in your voice and your eyes. “I’ve gotta get Bernard.”

“On it.” She took the globe from you and weaved through the crowd expertly. You ran towards the stage as though everything was moving in slow motion.

“This guy isn’t Santa! He’s trying to ruin Christmas!” Bernard shouted, voice cracking as he did.

Jack laughed loudly, and the crowd assembled did the same. “Do you hear him? I am Santa! Without me, there would be no Christmas! What gives you the right to say any of this?”

“I’m the Head Elf!” Bernard insisted, struggling against the toy soldiers. “I’ve seen a thousand Christmases and dozens of Santas! You are nothing compared to any of them!”

“Alright, tough guy, you think I’m not Santa? How about I show you what a real Santa is capable of?” Jack threatened, ice in his voice. He raised his hand to freeze Bernard and you dove onto the stage, tackling Jack to the ground, earning a loud gasp and several concerned voices from the crowd.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking narcissistic popsicle!” You shouted, getting a good punch in before retreating to Bernard’s side, kicking the toy soldier behind him and pulling apart the large ribbon bow binding his wrists. Parents covered their children’s ears, shielding them from the harsh language. Some of the crowd cleared out, retreating to a safer distance, while others pulled out their phones, desperate to go viral on YouTube.

“Come on.” You grabbed Bernard’s hand and he squeezed yours, following you off of the stage and through the crowd to where Scott stood with the snow globe. He shook it and made a wish, but nothing happened.

“What?” Scott asked, trying again. “It won’t work.”

“It’s the Escape Clause.” Bernard closed his eyes, remembering the rules. “Jack made this wish. He’s…he’s Santa now; he’s the only one who can undo this.”

“Oh my god.” A wave of dread flowed over you.

“And those, my dears, are the words I will never utter.” Jack said, dusting himself off and sauntering over to the four of you, his security not far behind, ready to apprehend all of you. “It was a nice try, though. Really valiant effort, all four of you. Scott, Bernard, Betty…and you. I can’t say I recognize you.”

“Maybe if you had half a braincell, you would.”

He scoffed, offended. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. They’ll figure that much out when they get you to jail, I suppose.” He shrugged and the security officers seized the four of you, taking the snow globe and giving it back to Jack. He tossed it in the air cockily a few times before chuckling. “You know, I don’t need this thing. I’m never going to wish all of this away.”

Frost tendrils crept up the glass dome and in a great burst of light, it shattered. You gasped, feeling the magic settle. This was it. This was reality now. There was no way to undo it.

“O-oh.” Bernard took a stuttered breath, faltering. He collapsed to the ground and you pushed away from security, rushing to his side and collecting him in your arms.

“Bernard?”

He shook his head. You raised a hand to give him more of your magic, but he lowered it with his own. “You have to finish this, Aurora.” He said, eyes serious, glimmering despite the pain you could tell he was in. “You’re the only one who can.”

He leaned forward, a hand brushing the hair away from your face, capturing your lips with his own, his kiss soft and tender, tasting faintly of peppermint, and then he disappeared in a burst of sparkles, his silver and gold magic drifting forward into your chest.

You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks, arms empty and heart emptier. “No! NO! What did you do to him?” You turned, facing Jack.

“The only thing I could. Protecting Christmas from the likes of you.” He shrugged. “What was it he called you? Autumn? Is that your name? Autumn?”

“No.” You told him, rising to your feet, pure magic lifting you from the ground and setting you on your feet.

His eyes widened and he took a step back.

“I’m the Aurora.” You rose into the air, teals and purples and pinks swirling around you in a rush of power. You raised your hand, manifesting the snow globe within it, its broken shards reforming in your grasp, effortless and precise. Once it was whole again, you shook it, magic swirling within its waters, overriding the rules of the Escape Clause with rules of your own.

A voice came out of you then that you weren’t sure was your own. It came deep from your chest, echoing across the pole, accompanied by a wave of power, the same magic you’d used on Betty, but tenfold, fierce and fiery, prickling like static all down your arms as it left you.

“May Everything Return to the Way it Was Before, to the Way it was Always Meant to Be.”

And with one final rush of magic, everything went white.

***

It took a while for the picture to form in front of you, your hearing distorted, the colors slowly coming back one by one.

You were kneeling there in the center of the Workshop, which was full of elves, their work paused as they watched the scene unfolding. Scott was Santa once more, wearing his red undershirt and suspenders, looking jollier than you’d ever seen him. Carol stood beside him, looking confused.

Mother Nature was there, as was Tooth, and, of course, Jack Frost, wearing his signature blue suit as opposed to the red one he’d been wearing moments earlier.

You got to your feet, looking for Bernard in the crowd, but not finding him. Your heart lurched, your search brought to a halt by Jack’s nasally voice.

“Aw, come on now, kid, no hard feelings, right?”

Rather than replying, you wound up and punched him square in the jaw with more force than you were used to possessing.

“OOOOOOOH…” The elves murmured, wincing as Jack fell to the ground, gripping his face.

“I’m going to ask you one last time and you are going to answer me. What. Did you do to him.” You demanded, a fierce power zinging through you.

“I didn’t do anything to him! This is all a big misunderstanding! Right, Santa? Tooth? Back me up on this!” Jack groveled, shielding his face with both hands, cowering in fear.

“Can’t do that, Jack.” Scott shook his head. “You have to answer to her.”

“Where is Bernard?”

“I feel like there are more pressing issues at hand—” Jack deflected, shrinking further away from you.

“What’s that?” One of the elves asked, pointing to a column of sparkles manifesting beside you.

You turned to look, staring at it until it clicked. Reaching into yourself, you let the last pieces of Bernard’s magic flow out of your chest, where it had retreated for safekeeping. Silver and gold glitter rushed out of you, swirling from the ground up until he was standing there again, solid and real.

He all but collapsed into your arms, holding onto you tightly while he found his balance again.

“Bernard,” you sobbed, holding him close, your arms desperate to prove he was real again, that he was solid and wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey, no need for tears, Aurora. I’m alright.” He grinned, meeting your gaze. His hand rose to your cheek and he wiped your tears away as he took you in for all that you were. “Thanks to you, I am.”

“(Y/N)?” Mother Nature asked, voice soft and warm.

“I…I can explain.” You insisted, turning to face her.

“No need, dear one. I know why you’re here. I’ve always known.” She smiled, bowing her head. “And now that you’re here, we can finish this.”

You looked to Bernard and he nodded, letting go of you to give you a gentle push forward, his eyes proud and supportive.

“Kneel.” She instructed, and you did, dropping to one knee in front of her.

The elves fell silent, desperate to witness what was unfolding for the first time in centuries.

“(Y/N) (L/N), through your bravery and selflessness, you have proven what I’ve known all along. You are the Aurora Borealis, the Winter Guardian, and Protector of the North Pole and all her Magic. For the first time in five centuries, the North Pole has an Aurora, which means…” She looked to Jack, who shook his head desperately.

“No. No way. I am not giving an ounce of my power to that…that…she punched me! Twice! Did none of you see that? She’s violent!”

“After everything you did to the Auroras before her, you’re lucky all she did was punch you!” Bernard snapped, arms crossed. “Not to mention the fact you destroyed her house in an attempt to kill her.”

Jack gasped in faux shock. “What, me? I…I would never—!”

“Jack.” Mother Nature reprimanded sharply. “You don’t have to give her the power. It was never yours to begin with.”

She outstretched a hand and, as easily as turning on a faucet, the power he’d been given, the magical, dancing light, was siphoned out of him and floated straight into you. Your feet lifted from the ground, head tilting back as your body slowly rose from the floor, power greater than you’d ever seen or felt ebbing and flowing around you, changing you into the thing you were always meant to become: the Aurora Borealis.

Your hair fully turned white, glimmering like fallen snow, a few stray streaks of pink and purple and teal scattered throughout. Your skin took on a subtle sparkle, every part of you becoming stronger, right down to your fingernails. Your clothes were replaced with a simple, glittering dress, the color of the night sky.

Gently, you touched down again, fully reborn.

The elves murmured and whispered in awe and you looked around to find a row of proud faces.

Mother Nature stepped forward and took both of your hands in hers, meeting you face to face for the first time in three years. “Dear one, I am so sorry for everything you’ve been through. I should have warned you, I should have done more to ready you, but I didn’t and…I let you feel alone.”

“I am alive because of you. Because you misled him. Everything you did was to protect me. I understand that now.” You told her, voice smooth and confident.

She touched her forehead to yours for a moment before pulling away to meet your gaze again. “Then, dear one, I have one last question for you.”

“I’m ready.”

“Hereby and Forevermore, your duty as the Winter Aurora is to the North Pole. You are tasked with its safety and secrets, to protect all of its residents and the magic they hold. Do you accept the Title of Winter Guardian and all of the responsibilities it holds?”

“I do.” You nodded, meeting Bernard’s eyes for a brief moment, only to find the warmest, proudest smile on his face.

“Then this belongs to you.” In her hand, Mother Nature manifested a small, elegant silver tiara, embellished with glittering snowflakes. She set it gently in your hair, completing your transformation once and for all.

Jack started sneaking towards the door, but you lifted your hand, a wave of power rushing around him, turning him back towards the rest of you and giving him a push back towards the rest of you. He stumbled forward, looking around the group nervously.

“You’re—you’re not gonna kill me, right?” He asked. “You still need me! I’m the one who oversees the snow days and-and the snowmen! Think of the snowmen!”

“We do need a Jack Frost.” Mother Nature said. “Which is why while you were here terrorizing Santa, I was locating your successor. Jack, come on in.”

The doors of the Workshop opened and in walked a much younger man with shaggy white hair. Your best guess put him in his early twenties, and his wardrobe was much more modern than the other Jack’s as well, a blue hoodie adorned with silver swirls. He carried a large stick with a curve at the end of it, somewhat resembling a scythe.

“Nice to meet you.” He waved casually, leaning against his stick.

“My successor?” Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re firing me?!”

“Oh, we’re doing more than firing you.” Tooth chuckled. He looked to you. “Aurora, what do you think we should do with him?”

“He needs to be put…somewhere he can’t hurt anyone else.” You decided. You turned to the Head Elf and he perked up, interested to hear your suggestion. “Do you have a snow globe I could borrow?”

He grinned and reached into his satchel, pulling out a fresh one. “I like the way you think.”

“What? No! You can’t just—” Jack shook his head, looking to Santa, to Mother Nature, to even Mrs. Claus for some other solution.

“This is for all of the Auroras before me, for the elves you brainwashed and the reindeer you stuck in a petting zoo. You’ll have lots of time to think about what you’ve done. And maybe someday, in five hundred years or so, I’ll let you go live a boring human life.” You told him, taking the snow globe from Bernard and focusing.

There was a bright flash of sparkles and then it was done, Jack was trapped in the confines of the little snow globe in your hands and he looked very angry about it, but his complaints were too muffled to make them out clearly. Santa reached for the snow globe, so you handed it to him and he gave it an amused swirl.

“Well done, (Y/N).” He complimented, passing the snow globe to Curtis. “See to it that this gets locked away properly.”

“Will do, Santa.” Curtis nodded and headed off.

“Now, (Y/N), if you are going to be staying here, I suppose someone will have to show you around the place.” Santa smiled knowingly.

Bernard cleared his throat. “I believe that would be my responsibility as Head Elf, Santa.”

“Yes, I believe it would.”

The Head Elf offered you his arm and you gladly took it, letting him escort you up the stairs of the workshop and down the hall so the two of you could have a private moment. As soon as you were out of sight, he turned to face you, his hands cupping your cheeks, nose brushing against yours.

“See, I knew you were more of a Winter.”

“Do I look okay?”

“You’ve never looked better.” He murmured, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours passionately. In your Mortal life, you’d had your fair share of kisses, but kissing Bernard was something else entirely. He was experienced, that was for sure.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Now, where would you like to explore first?”

***

Bernard took you around the Workshop, showing you all of the departments, which were full of elves, all of them working hard to ensure Santa was on schedule to leave that night. Bernard checked in with each of them as he did, making sure everything was going according to plan. Tooth and Mother Nature had stuck around to help out, and some of the other Legendary Figures had arrived as well, introducing themselves to you when you came around.

Finally, as the end of your tour, Bernard led you to an ornate set of stained glass double doors. As if by magic, they swung open when you approached, giving way to a beautiful bedroom, tall, arched ceilings, dancing Northern Lights projected across them. Stained glass windows, a large, wooden desk, hardwood floors and shelves and shelves of books. There was a carved armoire in the corner of the room, and against the leftmost wall, on a platform, was a giant canopy bed.

“This is the Aurora’s suite. You can decorate however you’d like. I had some elves from the interior design department get it fixed up for you.” Bernard explained, your arm looped through his, hand resting on his bicep. “If you’ll turn your attention right over here…”

He led you to the desk, dropping your arm and plucking something off of the desk. Your snow globe! The one he had given you three years before, still inscribed with those famous words that had started your entire adventure to begin with, the last remnant you had from this life before it was ripped away from you.

“My snow globe! How did you get it here?”

He shrugged, handing it to you. “My magic came back. Which means I can give this back to you.”

Bernard lifted his hand and you pressed yours against it, palm to palm. Gently, your power flowed from him back into you, a light breeze blowing through the room. He brushed your hair away from your face and pressed a long kiss to your cheek.

“There’s still a lot to do, but…I think we’re going to be able to pull everything together by tonight.”

“Well then you better get out there, Mr. Head Elf.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

He met your eyes, “You’ll be okay?”

“I’m going to be just fine.” You assured him, setting the snow globe back on the desk so you could rest your arms on his shoulders, his hands resting on your waist. “And after, you and I will have all the time in the world to figure this out.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean to interrupt…” Curtis muttered, standing in the doorway.

“Curtis!” Bernard exclaimed, his voice cracking.

You giggled when he abruptly pulled away to face his number two.

“The tree topper department needs an extra set of hands.” Curtis said, motioning back towards the workshop.

“Can I help?” You asked.

“Oh, Aurora, you don’t have to—” Curtis shook his head.

“Yeah, but…can I?” You asked, eyes curious.

Curtis grinned. “Yeah, of course.” He made eye contact with Bernard. “I like her already.”

Bernard gave you a nudge. “I do too.”

***

At Santa’s request, you met him and Bernard at the stable gates to see him off for your very first Christmas as the North Pole’s Guardian. Your heart was racing. You didn’t know what was expected of you or what you’d have to do, but Bernard was there, his smile ever so reassuring.

Some of the elves that worked with the reindeer helped get them all properly harnessed and ready for the flight, carefully attaching their reins to the sleigh. Bernard walked you through what you’d have to do. As one of the oldest elves in the Pole, he remembered the process well.

“It’s easy. All you’ll have to do is raise your hand.” He was standing right behind you and raised your hand with his own, positioning it just so. “And lower the barrier so Santa can leave. And if you can’t, we have controls for that now. It’s…mostly ceremonial at this point.”

“Well that does make me feel a little better.” You smiled, turning towards him.

“And, um, after, I think you should…check the armoire in your room. I left something for you.”

“Oh you did, did you?”

“Something for the party. You don’t have to wear it, though.” He shrugged awkwardly, cheeks extra rosy.

“And the party starts…?”

“The minute Santa gets back.” Bernard explained. “And then we get three months off and pick back up in March.”

“Alright.” You nodded, smiling. “Plenty of time for you to show me the ropes.”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He smiled, looking both ways, but not risking a kiss, not with all of the elves assembled to send Santa off.

“Everything ready?” Scott checked, donning his famed coat and hat for the flight just as a few elves loaded the famous gift bag, filled to the brim and then some, onto the back of the sleigh.

“All set, Santa.” Bernard nodded.

Scott put a hand on your shoulder, the other on Bernard’s. “We owe this Christmas to you two. Wouldn’t be standing here without either of you.”

“All in a day’s work, Santa.” You smiled.

“I’ll see you when I get back. And then the real fun begins.”

“I’ll see to it that we have enough eggnog at the ready.” Bernard replied with a wink, which Santa laughed at.

“Excellent.” He climbed into the sleigh and gave you the signal.

Just as you’d practiced, you lifted a hand and focused on the barrier protecting the Pole, made of the same magic that flowed through your veins. Effortlessly, the veil parted, making way for Santa’s sleigh and the elves erupted into cheers as Scott flew off into the sky. Bernard cheered loudly, turning to you and scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around in his excitement. You squealed with laughter.

Once your feet were on the ground again, you met his eyes briefly before pressing the quickest of kisses to his cheek and walking over to Carol, who was smiling a proud, maternal smile.

“Let’s get you ready for that party, huh?” She asked, looping her arm around yours. “You’ll have to fill me in on everything you’ve been up to! It’s nice to have a human-ish woman around here again.”

“I missed you, Carol.”

“I missed you too, hon.”

***

The deliveries went on without a hitch and Scott was back at the Pole faster than you could sing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Carol, you, and Betty had gone into your room to prepare. Carol did your hair, perching your snowflake tiara perfectly atop your head. You felt like a princess.

Betty helped zip up the dress Bernard had left for you, an elegant silver gown with a layered skirt, a tasteful slit up the leg, and off the shoulder sleeves, a layer of tule on top that was embellished with silver stars.

“You look stunning.” Carol complimented, resting her chin on your shoulder as the two of you admired your reflection.

“Thanks to you.” You tilted your head. “I’m still getting used to the hair, but…I think it looks nice like this.”

“Makes you look like a superhero.”

“I kinda feel like one, too.”

“Well you should. Scott told me everything that happened. I’m glad you were there to help.”

“I’m glad I was, too.” You said, pausing before asking, “So…theoretically speaking of course, is there a rule prohibiting the Aurora from…dating?”

Betty gasped, smiling. “I knew it! You and Bernard—”

“You and Bernard?”  Carol asked, interested. “I never would have guessed.”

“Never?”

“Well, maybe a little.” She admitted, pinching her fingers together. “Saving the world together is a very romantic first date.”

“So…I am allowed to…date him?” You asked, earning a giggle from Betty.

“There is nothing, to my knowledge, prohibiting either the Aurora or the Head Elf from falling in love,” she reported. “But I can check the handbook if you want me too.”

“That is good to know.” You tapped your temple, laughing a bit.

Downstairs, you could hear the music pick up and the three of you took that as your cue to join the festivities.

Soon, you were standing at the rail overlooking the Workshop floor, where Bernard was standing, chatting with Curtis, Santa, and some of the other elves. As soon as he caught sight of you, he froze, his glass of eggnog halfway to his mouth and eyes locked on you.

You smiled coyly and lifted the skirt of the gown, carefully navigating down the stairs. He ditched his glass on a cluttered table and met you at the foot of the stairs, taking your arm.

He swallowed thickly, admiring you for a long moment before murmuring, “You look beautiful, Aurora.”

“Thank you, Bernard.” You smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You picked a great dress.”

“Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.” You nodded, letting him lead you over to where the rest of the elves were paired up, swaying to a slow song. Your arms settled around his neck as he tugged you closer, a hand on your waist, the other finding your free hand.

It was clear in seconds that he knew how to dance, as he expertly spun you out and then back into him with ease, his chest flush against yours, mouth right against your ear. It was one of those moments you were forced to remember he’d lived a hundred lifetimes. He carried them well; he always had.

When the music picked back up, he said, “Let’s go get some air.”

You nodded, letting him lead you back up the stairs to the railing, where a few stray elves were also hanging out, getting some space from the heat of the party. The two of you leaned against the metal, looking down over your new home.

You were quiet for a long while before finally asking the question that had been on your mind since early that morning, in an airplane in another timeline. “Did you know her? The other Aurora?”

He nodded, face serious. “I knew her, yeah. I wasn’t Head Elf at the time, only second in command. She and I were acquaintances, but she was nice.”

“Mmm.” You hummed.

Bernard reached over and touched your hand. “I much prefer what you and I have this time around.”

“And what is it you and I have?” You asked.

“I’m…not sure yet.” Bernard shook his head, tugging you ever so closer, a gentle hand on your waist. “But I do know that in all of my 1600 years, I’ve never felt like this before. Even before, when you left, when I thought I’d never see you again, I was waiting for the day our paths would cross. I wish it had been under better circumstances, but…”

“But, I’m glad you found me.” You interjected, taking another step forward and resting your head on his shoulder.

Bernard leaned in to kiss you, but stopped, noticing all the elves watching. However, when you pointed straight up at a bundle of glowing mistletoe, he knew there was only one thing he could do…

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Ladies, thank you so much for agreeing to meet here at the Pole.” Mother Nature smiled at each of you, seated at the large round table in your office, which was, coincidentally, right down the hall from Bernard’s office.

Around the table were yourself, Mother Nature, and the three other Guardian Spirits, Briar Flores, Amber Sanderson, and Evangeline Cho, each of you dressed for your respective season, but Briar was absolutely glowing, as though a halo of light was positioned just behind her head at all times.

“Thank you for having us, (Y/N).” Briar thanked, bowing her head. “My place is absolutely a mess at the moment. Bunny has paint on just about every surface in the building.”

“Any time, Briar. This place has been quiet since the elves started their break. Things should be getting started up again soon, though.”

“If you need any help saving Christmas this year, you let us know.” Amber chuckled.

“Knock on wood Christmas doesn’t need saving this year.” You laughed, knocking on the table.

“I am serious, though, as soon as Easter is over, we all need to get mimosas and brunch. There is this lovely little island that is just so flowery and perfect this time of year, you’d all love it.” Briar beamed.

The rest of you murmured and nodded in agreement, stopping only when Evangeline looked up at the doorway, biting back a grin.

You looked up to see Bernard standing there, a bouquet of snowdrops in his hand.

“Hello, Bernard. How can I help you?”

“Oh, Aurora, I didn’t mean to interrupt. The guys in foliage need a second opinion when you have a minute.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded, looking to Mother Nature.

“Meeting adjourned. I’ll see you all next month for a progress report.” She smiled, straightening up her papers. The rest of you all stood up from the table and began to exit the office.

Mother Nature rested a hand on your shoulder, glancing back at Bernard. “You look really happy here, (Y/N).”

“I am really happy here.”

“Good, I’m glad.” She gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll see you next month.”

Once the others had scattered to the winds, Bernard walked into the office, closing the door behind him.

You quirked an eyebrow. “The guys in foliage, huh?”

“Partially. Partially just the Head Elf wanting to make sure his Aurora had something pretty to look at.” He whispered, an arm drawing you closer for a kiss that you gladly reciprocated.

“Your Aurora already has something pretty to look at.” You replied, a finger booping the end of his nose.

He shook his head, grinning. “Does the flirting never cease?” “Check in with me in a few hundred years.” You replied, setting the snowdrops in your vase before lacing your fingers through his, your other hand rising to rest on his arm as you walked out of the office and towards the large room you’d been using to train your powers. “Now, where were we with those lessons…?”

Tagged: @madameggroll, @capamericant, @midnightmisses, @five-hargreeves-apologist

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

mango, m | jjk | 4

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: A love story between bad boy Jeon Jungkook and a strange girl with mango eating obsession.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; reader has knife scars on her legs (read 2 for explanation); smut (f-receiving oral, penetrative sex); there’s so much fluff you might die; non-idol!AU - university!AU; badboy!Jungkook x sociallyawkward!reader; Jungkook likes his ears being played with hehe

--

3.

-

You pulled away, breathless. Jungkook blinked rapidly, backing up a little.

“Do you, um… want to come in?”

You tilted your head curiously. Your eyes shifted down and Jungkook slid to the side, closing the door a little, glaring at you.

“Do not pay attention to him.”

You took a step in, clutching your bag tightly. “Why?”

He frowned and took a few steps back, letting you in the apartment. “He doesn’t know time and place.”

You shrugged. “Maybe he does and you don’t.”

Jungkook shot you a quizzical look but you dropped your bag, sliding out of your sneakers. He closed the door, watching you suspiciously as you inspected his furniture. He had a nice black fabric couch, black coffee table, a branded television. A dark blue and black rug.

“Aren’t you a virgin?”

You hummed. “Why would I be a virgin?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes and stalked over to you. “What fool touched you and left you? I’ll beat him up myself.”

You looed away from his knickknacks and blinked slowly. “Left me? It was only some guy from high school. I wondered what the fuss was all about, but it wasn’t very interesting.”

A muscle in his eyebrow twitched. “Was he drunk?”

You shook your head. “No, but we did it with clothes on, because…” You trailed off. “Anyway, I think we weren’t that interested in each other. We wanted to be able to say we did it, that’s all.” You looked Jungkook up and down, nodding to yourself. “But I think it will be better with you.”

He placed his arms over his chest. “Excuse me, I am not some object. I have feelings.”

“Oh.” You looked away, back to the snow globe on his shelf. You shook it and watched the fake snow swirl around. The base of the globe read ‘Malta.’

You felt Jungkook’s long fingers encase your arm and pull you to him. “Ah, that doesn’t mean ignore me. I meant it as a joke,” he pouted ruefully as your body pressed against his.

You pursed your lips. “You are very confusing.”

Jungkook puffed his cheeks. “No, I’m not.” He sighed, smiling. “We could sit down, watch a movie or something. I have Netflix.”

You pressed your thigh against his crotch and Jungkook hissed at you, jerking his hips away. But you had already felt it.

“Wouldn’t it be reasonable to take advantage of the situation?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you. “If I acted on every single hard-on I had, my life would be a lot more complicated.”

You pointed to your chest, jabbing it a little. “But what about me? I want it.”

His expression changed at your words. He chewed on his lower lip. You watched him, his long messy hair over his eyes. You reached up and tucked some behind his ear, clearing his face from the black curtain. He inhaled a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Dark brown orbs to yours.

“But you didn’t say I love you.”

You paused, hand lingering by his neck. He tried to hide his unease by smirking.

“Is that how it should be?” you inquired. “You can only have sex if you love them?”

“No, but I only want to have sex with you if you love me,” Jungkook replied, chuckling nervously.

His laughter died in his throat as your hand slid down. You stared at his pecs, pressing your palm against the left side of his chest. His heart beat fast against your skin, pulsating rapidly. You reached over with your other hand and took one of his, pressing it against your racing heart, beating in time with him. You lifted your head to his round, doe-like gaze.

“I confess, I don’t know what love is,” you murmured quietly. “But I think we’re on the same wavelength, so if you love me, then it must be love.”

You realized, with every smile Jungkook gave you, something inside you melted a little bit.

“You’re strangely romantic,” he remarked.

You let go of his hand and removed yours from his chest. “Should I just… yank off your pants or something?”

He laughed, richer this time, shaking his head. “You want me to be fully naked and you fully clothed?”

You shrugged. “No, I can get naked.”

“Wait, what–”

You grabbed the bottom of your sweatshirt and pulled it over your head, chucking it aside. Jungkook gawked at you as you reached for the zipper of your leather skirt, unzipping it and stepping out, kicking it away. Now you were in your black bra and black opaque tights. You gripped the top of your pantyhose and pushed it down. His hands suddenly shot out and grabbed yours, stopping you.

“You don’t…” He groped for words. “If you’re uncomfortable or something.”

You blinked at him. “You already saw my scars. Do you not want to see them?”

Jungkook released your hands, swallowing. “I want you to feel okay with not showing me, if that’s what you want. But your battle scars are really cool. I would be happy if you were comfortable enough to show me them again.”

You stared at him for a full thirty seconds. “If you love me like you say you do, you will end up seeing them anyway.” You cleared your throat, packing your nerves away. “I want to… normalize them when I’m around you.”

His brown eyes became indescribable, something between gratitude, relief, and happiness.

“Okay.”

You took a deep breath and pushed the stockings down your legs, taking your feet out of them. Staring down at your ugly knife scars, the memories that came with them, wondering when they would fade, wondering when you would look at them and see something else.

Jungkook knelt, fingertips extended to touch the lines. He traced each one with parted lips, sending sparks up your skin. Features racked with empathy. He pressed his fingers against his lips and then his fingers to your largest scars.

“I think they’re past being kissed better,” you muttered.

“My kisses are magic,” Jungkook answered. “They’ll make you feel beautiful.”

You laughed a little. “Are you sure?”

He stood up, arms slipping around your waist, smiling at you. “Never know unless you keep trying.”

You looked up at Jungkook, him and his mischievous smile, his tiny mole underneath his lower lip, his nose scrunch, his sparkling brown eyes, losing yourself in them and being okay with it, because this wasn’t anything like what you’ve known before. It was much nicer, much more heavenly as you got to your tiptoes and kissed him, arms around his neck. Pulling him close, whispering his name, relishing in the loveliness of his soft pink lips as he pulled you to him and walked you to his bedroom, sighing in satisfaction as you pressed your body against his harder, more muscular one.

“Damn, all that mango must be doing something right,” Jungkook murmured, running his hands down to your ass and squeezing it. “Eat more of it.”

You smiled against his lips. “Are you saying I’m fat?”

“I’m saying you’re juicy and I like it,” he teased, lowering you to the bed.

Your hand reached up and touched his wild hair. He stiffened a little as you ran your fingers through the long strands, dry now from your conversation.

“Why do you always slick your hair back at school?”

The side of his lips quirked upwards, somewhat regretfully. “It’s the hairstyle that gets me the most attention.”

You tilted your head. “It’s kind of nice like this, though.”

“I can’t see that well,” Jungkook laughed.

Your two hands collected his hair into a ponytail. “What about like this? With some in the front? I think I’ve seen this style before.”

How could someone have such a brilliant smile? “I trust you. You can do whatever you want with my hair.”

You brought his face down to yours, kissing Jungkook and that smile. Maybe one day you could smile like that. Maybe one day you could, but for now you settled for smiling into his kisses, fingers tangled in his hair, breathing into his mouth and making him moan. Your skin tingled at his noises, deepening the kisses, lacing your tongue with his. He nudged you up the bed and the two of you crawled back, laying against the sheets. You arched your back, brushing your chest against his and he groaned, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

“What do you want to do?” Jungkook murmured against your lips.

You kissed up his jaw, pushing his hair back. Your tongue traced his earlobe and he sucked in a tight breath, pushing you against him.

“I thought you liked it when I whispered in your ear?” you said softly, pressing your lips against his skin.

He swallowed, deep voice shaking. “Yeah, I do. A little too much.”

You nipped experimentally at his earlobe and he moaned, fingers pressing into your sides, clutching you tight.

“M-more…”

You took it into your mouth and swirled your tongue around his earrings, tugging lightly. He shivered, gasping your name, hands sliding up your back, his breath against your neck. Turning his earlobe in your mouth, sucking softly. Jungkook rolled his hips into your thigh and you felt his hardness. He began to rut against you as you played with his ear, kissing all the way up before nipping your way back down. It made his body shake and moans tumble from his lips.

You were suddenly hit with an epiphany.

“Is this why you always stared at my mouth?” you breathed. “When I was eating dried mango?”

Jungkook let out a trembling chuckle. “You c-caught me.”

“I just thought you were a pervert.”

“Maybe a little bit.” You pulled your head back and raised your eyebrows. Jungkook grinned. “Maybe a lot.” He nudged your chin with his nose, kissing down your neck, dipping his tongue between your collarbones. You reached back and unclasped your bra, sighing softly as the straps fell. His hands came up and cupped your breasts, strong fingers kneading you. Every breath on your skin igniting the fire, whimpering as he pressed his thumbs against your nipples and rubbed them in circles, making out with your cleavage.

“I thought about these tits way too much,” he mumbled. “You never wear anything tight up top.”

You gasped as he kissed your nipples, licking them lightly. “I was trying to… be more okay with my legs. Even if it’s just the shape.”

Jungkook’s large hands slid down your sides and hips, gripping your thighs. “Everything about your legs is fucking fantastic,” he growled hotly. He licked a stripe down your chest, flicking his eyes up to you, forming his words against your skin as he slid down. You felt your chest tighten, seeing his hunger, his want, feeling his palms against your thighs and calves, calluses against your scars.

“Your legs make me so damn horny I have to come up with strategies to hide my erections when I’m around you.”

You laughed a little. “They’re always covered up.”

One of his sculpted eyebrows raised. “Except I remember what they look like,” Jungkook mused, lips travelling down your thighs, running his hands up and down your skin making you breathless. “And maybe I like all the different socks you wear.”

“… Pantyhose?”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, ears turning pink. Jungkook kissed your legs all over and shivers danced up and down your spine as he paid attention to them, soft pecks and light touches. You reached down and gripped the sides of your black panties. His brown eyes shot up to you, squeezing your calf a little.

You smirked and he smirked back.

You pushed them down, gasping as cold air hit your wet warmth. Jungkook’s breathing stuttered, hands reaching down as you got to your thighs, taking them from you and pulling them down your legs, gasping as strings of your juices snapped against your skin.

“Can I eat you out?” he asked breathlessly as your panties were flung into the far side of his room.

You wondered if you would find them again. “I guess. Is it that nice for you?”

Jungkook gave you a surprised look. “Of course. You never had someone eat you out?”

You shrugged. “It wasn’t that special.”

He hummed, a slow smile forming on his lips. “Let me change your mind.”

His head dipped down between your legs. You tilted your head, breath cut short as he gripped your thighs, tipping them up, fingers pressed against your skin. And then your eyes widened as he placed his lips on your dripping slit, tongue licking you all over, moaning into your core. Your hands clutched the sheets, crying out as he thrust his tongue into you, curving it inside your pussy.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

His brows furrowed, sliding his lips up a little. You moaned as he pressed the tip of his tongue to your clit. Sucking delicately, lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves. It felt like pleasure was shooting up your body way too fast, like a time-lapsed video of a flower growing. You moaned, back arching and head tipping back as he worked you, one of your hands suddenly gripping his head, nail scratching his ear.

Jungkook whined, muffled by your pussy as he sucked harder, rougher, and somehow your hips were jutting into his face, unsure if it was just your involuntary shudders or your need to orgasm spurring you on, feeling your juices leak out from his lips and paint his cheeks, his intense dark eyes on yours.

You orgasm crashed into you, waves of pleasure torrenting through your chest. Your thighs threatened to snap shut, but Jungkook gripped them open, groaning as you filled his mouth with your taste, shifting down to you opening and sucking it all up. Your eyelids fluttered and your elbows slid out from under you, falling onto the bed with a flump.

Holy shit.

You were panting hard, unsure how Jungkook gave you such a powerful orgasm with his mouth. He licked you lazily and your hips shivered. Satisfied, he got to his knees, licking his lips clean.

“You have to warn me next time,” Jungkook pouted.

“Sorry, I… I wasn’t expecting it…” you wheezed out, pressing your lips together and letting out a long breath. Jungkook suddenly threw himself down on you, mouth to yours, filling your nose with your scent, tasting yourself as he inhaled your breath, moaning in his throat.

“Fuck…” he breathed, nipping at your lips. “Your breath is so fucking wonderful.” He shuddered as you panted into his lips. “You taste so good too, so fucking sweet. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life.”

You chuckled. “Maybe it’s the mango.”

Jungkook kissed you repeatedly in while speaking. “Then I can’t risk it; I have to keep buying it for you.”

You smiled, gently pushing him off you, switching your positions. He blinked up at you, but you pressed his hand against his cheek, moving his head to one side, brushing back his hair, exposing his ear.

“W-wait–”

You bit his ear and his words died in his throat, turning into a moan as you nibbled. You lowered your body onto his, your softness against his muscles. His strong arms wrapped around you, gasping as your hard nipples rubbed against his chest and your lips encircle his earlobe.

“S-suck on it…” he pleaded; hands splayed across your back.

You did, playing with his earrings and Jungkook whined, nails digging into your back. You hummed approvingly and he scratched down your skin, shuddering and crying out. You kissed his ear and his hips bucked into you with a moan. He pushed his sweatpants down impatiently, freeing his hard cock so it rubbed against your thigh. You felt the pre-cum smear onto your skin as you whispered his name into his ear, making his eyes roll back into his head. His hand pressed his cock against your thigh and he began to hump you as you sucked on his ear again, whimpering.

“Please, please, please,” he begged. “More…”

You were breathing hard too, shallow and tight as you felt him rut against your hot skin. “But I want you to fuck me, Jungkook…”

His moan so deep and erotic that you felt your pussy clench with need.

“Okay,” he panted and you freed him from your grasp so he could reach over to the nightstand, fumbling for a condom.

“You really like your ears being played with, huh?” you wondered out loud, noticing how hard he was, the head of his cock a dark red.

His flush on his cheeks deepened. “Yeah, but I don’t like telling people, because I sound pathetic…”

You tilted your head. “I think it’s sexy.”

You saw the blush turn from pink to red. “T-thanks.”

His fingers scrambled with the condom and you took it from him, opening it carefully. You tried not to laugh, but Jungkook puffed his cheeks at you, noticing your contained expression immediately.

“It was only a compliment.”

He frowned and pursed his lips as he put the condom on. “It’s a compliment from you, the one I love.”

Your stomach did that weird floppy thing again. Jungkook shuffled over to you, taking your thighs and positioning himself between you. He looked up at you, chewing on his lower lip.

“Are you prepped enough? I could–”

“Jungkook, just put your cock in me,” you cut him off, smile on your lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, gasping as the head rubbed against your wet opening.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I’m tougher than you think.”

He grinned. “That’s true. Okay.”

You snaked your hand between your bodies, putting him into the correct position and he slid in slowly, his eyelids fluttering. Oh. Jungkook was bigger than you thought. Or perhaps you hadn’t had that many dicks in you or something. You sucked in a breath, trying to relax your muscles as he filled you up, leaning back and spreading your legs, chest quivering as he pressed his hips into yours.

“Oh fuck, you feel so fucking good.” His voice was unsteady, gripping your knees hard.

You tensed and tightened your core.

Jungkook yelped, snapping his head down at you. “H-hey!”

Your eyes shifted up to his face, letting the mischief show. “I heard Kegel exercises have many benefits.”

He shot you a pained look. “You’re trying to murder me.”

You pulsed around him again and he hissed, placing your legs on your shoulders and pressing down.

“Stop it or I’ll blow my load in three seconds,” Jungkook warned.

“Maybe two?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Let me enjoy your legs pressed against me as I pound your pussy, please.”

You sucked in part of your cheek. “Okay…”

Jungkook slid out a little and sank back in, making both of you moan. You clutched the sheets, breathing hard. He noticed your strained expression.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Never had it this deep before. Keep going.”

He began a slow, deep pace, radiating pleasure all over you. You weren’t aware it was possible to feel this much, your skin prickling with lust, his hips slapping against yours, the feeling in your chest swelling so much that your almost couldn’t breathe. Your gaze locked with his and the way Jungkook was looking at you, like he couldn’t help himself, like he was becoming lost in you, like he wanted all your days and all your nights, taking your breath away because you wanted that too. His curly long hair hung down, pupils blown wide with lust, jaw clenched as he increased his pace, your moans deepening at the sensation.

“You’re so handsome,” you panted between gasps.

Jungkook grinned. “You’re prettier.”

You smiled and his expression softened. “I love it when you smile at me.”

You chuckled awkwardly, tapping his arm. “Faster and harder, please.”

He smacked his hips into yours, earning a pleased gasp and a clenching of your pussy. Jungkook gritted his teeth, fucking your hard and fast like you asked, feeling it build inside you, pushing you to the precipice. You bit your lip, whining, Jungkook so strong and gentle over you, but also giving you what you wanted, watching your face the entire time. You squeezed his cock and he groaned your name.

“Cum for me,” he whispered. “Cum for me and I’ll cum for you.”

Your fingers found his arms, clutching his tense muscles, his tattoos peeking out from your grasp. There was a sharp tautness inside you, so close, so close, and his piercing brown eyes drowning you and, soon enough, the words came, tumbling out of your mouth in wispy gasps.

“J-Jungkook… fuck, I love you so fucking much and I’m going to cum, fuck.”

You threw your head back, moaning his name again as you came, pussy spasming and throbbing around him. Jungkook hissed above you, slamming into your hips one last time, cock jerking against your walls as he followed suit, your orgasm massaging his out, spilling into the condom. You could feel his cock pulsate inside you. He whimpered your name softly, pushing his hips into you a little. You exhaled, legs slipping from his now sweat-covered shoulders.

Jungkook reached down and pulled out gingerly, holding the condom in place.

“Finally got to hear you say I love you,” he chuckled.

You laughed, pressing your head back into his pillows.

“Guess I just needed you to stuff me with your cock.”

Jungkook poked you, pouting. The mole underneath his lower lip winked at you. “I want to hear it normally too.”

You sat up, looking into his eyes. His dark chocolate eyes that stared at you the first time, the eyes that took in every detail about you, the eyes that slowly began to know you and would continue to know you because now you knew there was another feeling that wasn’t nothing, another emotion that wasn’t apathy.

You placed your hand on his cheek, pushing back his long, dark hair, smiling at him.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

-

“What do you think?”

Jeon Jungkook took the small compact mirror from your hand, inspecting your work.

“Looks kind of funny,” he chuckled. “But I like it.”

He had showed up to Chemistry lecture early, long dark hair brushed but undone. No gel this time. He had sat down in front of you, black leather jacket creaking, folding his jean-clad legs under him. You had arrived with a black hair tie and black nails with tiny pink flowers on them. Combed your fingers through his hair and collected it into a ponytail, revealing his clean undercut. A few strands framed his face, accenting his high cheekbones.

“You wanna be my barber?” he teased, looking up at you.

You shook your head. “I don’t know how to cut hair.”

Jungkook stood up. “That’s okay. You can learn. Then I can spend more time with you and remember you every time I look in the mirror.”

You looked at your nails, remembering Hoseok’s smile as he painted them.

“I guess I would have to look up some YouTube videos.”

-

fin. haircut drabble. 2021.09.01 - birthday drabble

--

masterpost

[galaxysessions]

You two are dancing in a snow globe round & round / and he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown…

Amanda looked at her reflection in the cloudy mirror hanging from the interior of her locker door. The pads of her fingers swiped expertly beneath blue eyes, hoping to catch any mascara that had strayed through out her day. She fluffed the hair at the crown of her head, wanting to bring life back to her blonde waves, and in a brief moment of psychosis she contemplated running to Duane Reade to purchase a spray or even a hot tool that could save her. Amanda let out an audible groan - at the horrifying fact that she was becoming her mother, at her disappointment in her subpar hair - and slammed her locker door shut. At least the outfit she had tossed together after her shift was cute: dark jeans and a black top with fluttering sleeves that was just sheer enough to hint at what was underneath. 

She was due at One Hogan Place in 20 minutes.

Sonny had insisted that he owed her dinner. How many dinners had he made for her and the girls? Hundreds, it felt like. How many times had they sat around at bars together after cases? Too many to count. How many empty take-out boxes had they shared? A lifetime’s worth. But this, this was different.

This was a date.

Familiar with the DA’s office, Amanda hoped she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew there. She didn’t want to answer questions about why she was hanging out so late and she was too nervous for small talk. Most of all she didn’t want to have to lie, not tonight. Keeping her head down, she flitted up staircases and down hallways until she was in front of Sonny’s office. She pulled in a deep breath, reminded herself that this man had seen her at her very worst, so her flat hair wouldn’t be the end of the world, then gently knocked on the door. It was cracked open, so she waited a beat before she slipped inside.

Sonny was sitting at his desk, leaned over some paperwork. For the brief moment she was able to, she admired the stretch of his shoulders. When he heard her enter, he looked up. The smile that immediately tugged at his mouth when he met her eyes made Amanda’s heart squeeze in her chest out of overwhelming adoration. “Hi,” she exhaled, somehow both more and less anxious at the sight of him. 

“‘Manda, hey,” Sonny greeted her. He stood up and waved her further into his office, coming out from behind his desk. “Come in, come in.”

“You still working?”

He heaved a sigh, returning a file to its rightful cabinet before turning back to her. “It never ends.”

She perched herself on the edge of his desk as she so often did, setting her purse down on the surface beside her. “Hey, c’mere,” she said when she noticed something: his tie was crooked, collar rumpled, his hair out of place. He had probably had a long day. She reached out a hand to him, nose scrunched as she smiled. “Your tie, you… well, like my grandma used to tell me and Kim after a long day of school, when we’d come home all roughed up: ‘you look like you’ve been shot out of a cannon.’”

Another grin broke across his face as he took a step forward, then stood in front of her, still, obedient. Amanda could feel his warm gaze looking down at her while her manicured fingers reached up to adjust the knot of his tie. “Well, you look beautiful.”

She knew her cheeks were turning pink; God, she hated that. What happened to her poker face? Her eyes flickered up to meet his as her hands drifted up toward his collar. Then she was smiling like a lovestruck teenager, as if no man had ever complimented her before this exact moment. Maybe she just needed to hear it from the right one. “Thanks,” she murmured as she smoothed the fabric of his shirt. She didn’t try to fix his hair - she liked the little strand that had escaped its style.

Sonny was standing so close to her that his legs bumped hers, silently asking her to make room for him. So she did: she parted her knees so she could playfully trap him, lower limbs snaking around his tall figure until her feet hooked loosely around the other side. A huff of laughter escaped Sonny as she felt his warm palms slide up the sides of her thighs to find her waist. Through the thin fabric of her shirt she could feel his thumbs moving back and forth, back and forth, and Amanda suddenly no longer cared about their dinner reservations.

Amanda carefully set the heels of her palms back on the edge of the desk, fingertips dangling. Collarbone prominently displayed, she gave her head a languid shake to move her hair away from her face. She gazed up at Sonny, still caught between her legs, playing against her side. Anticipation was beginning to simmer in the pit of her stomach. “Anything else I can help you with, Counselor?” 

Desire had darkened Sonny’s features and now he appeared mischievous as his eyes flickered over her thighs, her chest, her mouth. “Ah…” he started to answer her, but then he leaned in and kissed her instead of completing his thought. There was nothing gentle or cautious about the way his lips found hers: it stole the air from her lungs and his mouth felt searing hot. Her hands lifted from the desk, one cradling his elbow, another reaching up to his jaw. She loved the prickly feeling of newly formed stubble on his face, a sharp contrast to the softness of his tongue. The long line of his body angled itself closer to hers, and as she leaned back, she felt him let out a rough exhale at the way their forms aligned. 

Amanda had sworn to herself that she would not fuck this up - whatever this was that she was doing with Sonny - by having sex with him too soon, but in that moment she was so dizzy with want that his incredibly nerdy desk blotter was looking hotter and hotter. The hand at his elbow dropped blindly to the shiny metal of his belt buckle. Like a moth drawn to a flame, she couldn’t help but toy with it even though she knew it was a bad idea for more than one reason.

“‘Manda…” Sonny growled her name against her mouth, half in a warning, half in encouragement. One of his hands had wandered up the front of her shirt to ghost over her breast, so whatever he was trying to get her to stop doing, he had rendered his own message ineffective. 

“I won’t,” she breathed against his lips insincerely, fingertips trailing down the line of his fly, teasing, testing, “we won’t…” 

“Mr. Carisi, sorry I’m so late. I’ve got those -“ The voice of a young girl accompanied by the office door swinging open broke them both violently from their heated reveries. They separated from one another like they had been electrocuted: Sonny launched himself backward into his file cabinet, appearing to slam his funny bone in the process. Amanda scrambled off of the desk and on to her two feet, loose paperwork flying, hastily wiping off her mouth with the back of her hand as she stood at attention. The girl looked to be in her early twenties, with unruly curly hair wearing an ill-fitting sweater, but most importantly her eyes were wide in complete confusion. A large manila folder hung from her fingers.

“Lindsey!” Sonny yelped, carding his fingers through his hair. “Lindsey, hi. Hey. I just, you can put those on my desk,” he went on, pointing to the space he and Amanda were just occupying. “Thank you.”

Lindsey cautiously, wordlessly, placed the folder where she was told, then stepped back toward the doorway.

“This is, uh… do you know Rollins? Amanda? Detective Rollins?” Sonny asked Lindsey awkwardly, unnecessarily. His eyes shifted over to Amanda as he explained, “Lindsey is a law school intern here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Amanda offered, arms crossed over her chest to indicate that she was not interested in prolonging this painful interaction.

“Nice to meet you,” the student echoed, tone hollow. Turning away from them both, she let her hand linger on the door handle as she asked, “should I close this?”

“Yeah, please,” Sonny mumbled before his intern disappeared into the hallway.

Alone again in the office, Amanda raised both of her eyebrows and shot him a pointed look.  “Real smooth, Carisi.” Her heart was still pounding against her ribcage, partly because they were almost caught, partly because she didn’t know how Sonny was going to handle something like this. He was so nervous about keeping secrets, whereas Amanda felt like her life had been a series of little untruths for as long as she could remember. She kept her arms crossed like she was protecting herself.

Sonny leaned back against the file cabinet as if he was deflating. After what seemed like forever, he let out an exhale, then reached out a hand to her. “So… how about that dinner?”

note - idk just a lil one shot xoxox

[reidecorating]

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift. 

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :) 

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding. 

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do. 

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it. 

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request. 

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door. 

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well. 

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake. 

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :) 

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

 ∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-” 

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far. 

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way. 

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist. 

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?” 

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally  drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him. 

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,” 

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders. 

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen  at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,” 

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing,  trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud. 

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come. 

[songbirdsingingthings]

Traditions - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO KOHEI HORIKOSHI

DAY THREE OF 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST

What were you supposed to get the boy who could have anything he wanted? That was the question that had been plaguing your mind for the entirety of November and now December. Shouto Todoroki, your loving and caring boyfriend, was the hardest person you had ever shopped for in your life. Even Momo was easier to shop for - she actually really liked homemade baked goods since when she’s training she has to eat a ton of processed stuff. You were currently at the mall, picking up things for the rest of your friends with Shouto, while also trying to scope out what interests him in certain stores.

“So who’s next?” He asks as you scroll through the list on your phone.

“Hmm… I think Midoriya.” You respond, looking around to see all of the stores surrounding you. A certain one grasps your attention with the bright yellow, blue, and red colors. Shouto follows your gaze and he gives you a small smile as it lands on the huge All Might themed store.

“Well you're definitely gonna find something in there.” He chuckles, gently tugging your hand as the two of you walk towards the door.

You had finally left the mall with several bags being carried by the both of you, but you still had no clue what to get for your boyfriend. After Shouto dropped off the bags in your door and gave you a quick kiss goodbye - he apparently had some important business to attend to - you decided enough was enough. You scroll through the contacts on your phone to find Fuyumi, Shouto’s older sister, and press the call button. You’re only able to hold it to your ear for a few seconds before she answers.

“Y/N! How are you?” Fuyumi’s sweet voice filtered through your phone.

“I’m good, how are you?” You ask politely, making your way to sit down on your bed. 

“Fine, just doing some stuff around the house. I’m glad you called though, I haven’t been able to talk with you for a while.” You heard some clinks and clatters in the background and quickly assumed she was doing the dishes.

“Oh, no problem! I actually have a question if you’re not too busy.” You say, letting your shoulder press your phone to your ear so you could start taking all of your purchases out of their bags.

“I’ve got time, shoot away!” She says cheerily, causing a smile to grace your face.

“It’s about Shouto-”

“What about Shouto?” A deep but happy voice piped up through your phone.

“Hi Natsuo!” You greet, smoothing the blouse you got for Ochaco out.

“Hey kiddo! What’s up?” You could almost feel his wide grin radiating through your screen.

“Was asking Fuyumi a question, but you can answer it as well. I wanted to know what kind of stuff you and Shouto did when you were younger around the holidays to get an idea of what he likes to do. I was trying to find something to get him for Christmas, but I feel like if he wanted anything he would have already gotten it, so I want to do something with him.”

“Uhmm…” You hear both of them exchange awkward words, so you pipe up instead.

“I mean my brother and I would have gingerbread house competitions, go ice skating, and have movie marathons, but I don’t really know if that’s something Shouto would be into .” You say, opening the last of your bags which contained a snow globe with a polar bear cub in it for Koda.

“Y/N, uh… Shouto’s never really done any of that before.” Natsuo says. You frown a bit, but shake your head.

“Oh - is there anything your family does especially for the holidays? I mean I know your dynamic is a bit… different than others, but I’m sure you found a way to celebrate...right?” You asked warily.

“That’s a really sweet thought but umm… Dad didn’t really let us mingle, so he’s never experienced any usual holiday activities. I mean he celebrated with us, don’t get me wrong, but we never really got to do fun things as siblings.” Your jaw drops. You remember playing with your brother in the snow being one of the happiest memories during the holidays and you can’t believe Endeavor didn’t grant Shouto that. All of a sudden, a lightbulb seemed to come to life above your head and a grin replaced your frown.

“Thank you! Thank you so much for telling me, I know what to do!” You exclaim, clasping your hands together. You bid adieu to your boyfriend’s siblings and immediately start planning.

“Y/N, I don’t understand what’s going on. Why did you call me out here?” All bundled up in a puffy jacket that made him look even cuter than ever, snow pants, and a pompom beanie. Shouto looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“We are going to have the best day ever.” You state, grabbing his gloved hands in yours. “We’re going to make a snowman, then we’re gonna bake some cookies, maybe make some hot cocoa, and watch some Christmas movies.”

“W-what?” He manages, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Merry Christmas! I was trying to think of something to get you, but I kept coming up with blanks. So, I figured we should celebrate our first Christmas together by implementing some solid traditions.” You saw his shocked expression turn into one of somewhat embarrassment as he looked to the side.

“Y/N, your idea sounds great, but I’ve never done those activities before. What happens if I mess them up?” Concern flickers across his eyes, but you give him a reassuring smile and cup his cheek with your mittened hand.

“It’s perfectly fine if you ‘mess them up’, even though I’m sure you won’t. These activities are specifically designed to be fun, stress free things to do, okay?” Shouto nods and gives you a small smile. You give him a quick kiss and your day of fun begins.

Building a snowman was certainly a feat. You had to teach Shouto how to roll the snow to create bigger bases than the average snowball, which completely enthralled him. It was cute to see him so excited about how the snow managed to get that big, and he even put a little spin on the snowman, creating a “frozen pond” right next to him and an ice fishing rod so that he could go fishing.

Next was the cookies. Even though he really hadn’t cooked that much in his life, like many things, your boyfriend picked it up quite quickly. The two of you would perform a quiet dance in the kitchen, dropping two sticks of butter in one bowl and pouring a cup of sugar in another. What Shouto didn’t know, however, was flour’s tendency to create a mini explosion. His face when it poofed up in his face was priceless. You laughed so hard your stomach hurt which only made Shouto take some more flour and throw it on you so you were matching.

Finally, you made it to the end of the day. Both of you were cuddled up on your bed in your dorm watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Your back was pressed up against his chest and his arms were around yours, his left hand drawing soft lines on your skin, heat following his finger tips. You were so happy. Shouto really looked just ecstatic for the entire day, enjoying every activity you came up and even adding his own personal spin to them. You were so engrossed in those happy memories from earlier in the day that you didn’t hear Shouto say your name.

“Y/N,” he says in a velvety voice, shaking you a little to gain your attention.

“Hmm?” You hum in response, telling him that you were listening.

“I have something for you.” You turn around to look at him and you gasp with delight. In his hands dangled the daintiest little locket you had ever seen. It was a pretty silver oval with the tiniest little hinge on its side.

“May I?” You ask, motioning to open it. He gives you a soft smile and nods. You open it very carefully and you melt at what you see inside. It was your initials next to his with a heart outline.

“I know you don’t like obvious jewelry so I didn’t go for the heart locket, but I still wanted to get the meaning across. Do you like-” You cut him off with a searing kiss. You cup both of his cheeks in your hands and press him close to you.

“I love it, Sho. Thank you so, so much.” He grins at you and opens the clasp.

“Do you want me to put it on for you?” He asks. You nod quickly and turn your head back around. His hand sweeps your hair to one side and swings the necklace around your neck so that the clasp was in the back. His fingers danced lightly across the back of your neck, sending a tingle down your spine. He closes the little clasp and smooths it out. You reach up to touch the little locket and smile, turning back around to look at him.

“To new traditions,” you toast, arms wrapping around his neck.

“To new traditions.”

[yandere-society]

A Christmas Catastrophe

Pairing: Yandere Collector Yoongi x Collector YN

Synopsis: YN’s always been a collector. She’s always had the desire to possess any and everything she’s set her heart on. So when she finds an item she’s been wanting for over a year, she jumps at the chance to finally have it, unaware of the trap that’s been set just for her . . . 

Word Count: 2422

Warnings: Yandere themes, Blood, Murder

Admin: @chimchimsauce​

Request:

AN: This turned out way different than I was expecting it to, but I hope you enjoy it! It’s also pretty fucked up so . . .

Collecting is in YN’s blood, she’s sure. Ever since she was a small child, she was drawn to items she found interesting - rocks, bouncy balls, figurines, etc. But as she got older and her pockets began to fill with money of her own, YN’s collecting habits skyrocketed. Common items that anyone could obtain just wouldn’t cut it for her anymore. She set her eyes on things that were rare - things most collectors could only hope to set their eyes upon in real life. It’s caused her to get quite the following online in niche collectors communities. People message her to try and buy items from her collection but she never accepts, not even when the amount of money they offer is astronomical.

Half the appeal of having something is the fact that other people want it.

But collecting rare and expensive items is not easy. YN spends countless hours every week scouring online marketplaces and thrift shops to find the items that she has on her wish list. Her constant hunt for things has taken her to a variety of places - she’s driven hundreds of miles to go to estate sales, taken flights to attend conventions, and once even dated a guy who was related to the original artist of a piece she wanted.

She was successful every time. There is no feeling as satisfying as the first time holding an item she’s been searching relentlessly for. But it always fades quickly and she’s on to the next thing, the desire to possess and collect overtaking her once more.

YN has done some pretty crazy things in pursuit of her collection, but non as crazy as this. It had taken YN over a year to find this one item she was looking for - a misprint of a novel written by an author who died two hundred years ago. Based on what people think, there are only about a thousand of them in existence. YN read the re-edited version of the book and found it rather dull, but there are people who are willing to pay over ten grand just to have it.

When she finally found one for sale, YN was quick to buy a plane ticket to fly halfway across the world to pick the tome up. She’s never been this far away from home, but the thought of getting the book pushes any anxiety she may have out of mind. YN has no idea why or how this book ended up in South Korea of all places. But she’s even more surprised by the fact that it somehow landed in a small second-hand shop in a back alley of Seoul.

Thankfully, when she called last week to have the book pout on hold for her, she found out that the owner speaks English very well, so she won’t have a problem communicating with him.

YN looks at her phone, following the map through a labyrinth of abandoned alleys. Snow is falling gently, reminding YN that today is Christmas. Usually, she’d be at home celebrating with her family, but she was more than happy to drop them for a chance to get this book.

A bell rings when YN pushes open the door to the small shop, the warm air hitting her face and knocking away some of her chill. The shop is crowded with tall bookshelves stuffed to the brim with a variety of random items - most of which are covered in a thick layer of dust. It’s clear that no one really comes here and YN absently wonders how it’s still in business.

“Hello?” she calls out.

No response. 

YN huffs. She hopes this Yoongi guy she’s supposed to be meeting hasn’t blown her off, especially since she had to take the longest flight known to man to get here.

She makes her way through the shop, feeling like a bull in a china shop with how carefully she has to avoid random piles of merchandise and the occasional broken item crushed into the worn floorboards. 

YN makes it to the back of the store where a small desk is pushed against a wall, a thin, somewhat ghostly looking man sitting behind it. His eyes are unfocused and earbuds are plugged into his ears. He doesn’t even register her presence originally. YN has to tap the desk right in front of his face to get him to focus.

“Oh,” the man says, pulling his earbuds out, “You’re that girl here for the book, right? YN?”

YN nods, trying not to let her annoyance show.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she says.

“It’s in the back,” he says, “Follow me.”

He rises and YN is shocked by how . . . pale he is. He nearly looks sick and YN thinks she can see his veins even under the terrible light.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks him as he steps out from behind the desk.

“What?” he asks her.

“Nothing,” she says, retracting her statement.

It really isn’t her business. As soon as she gets the book, she’s going to leave anyway so it doesn’t matter.

The man looks her over and something about his gaze makes her stiffen. It’s uncomfortable. His eyes are almost lifeless, brown but dead like frozen mud.

He’s so creepy. 

He turns without another word and behinds to walk to the other edge of the store where YN assumes the storage room is. Even the way he walks is weird. His footsteps are too heavy, loud in a way that’s unnatural. He barely lifts his feet, but she can almost feel each step in his ribs.

As soon as YN has the book and pays, she’s leaving, never to return.

Yoongi pulls a set of skeleton keys out of his pocket, taking one and inserting it into the ancient lock on the door. The mechanisms groan, nearly refusing to open. The door does unlock when Yoongi applies a bit more pressure to the key and he steps inside, becoming YN to follow her.

It’s pitch black inside, making YN’s heartbeat speed up astronomically. An icky feeling wells up inside of her, the same one that appeared whenever she had to visit her great aunt and go down into her creepy basement. 

YN’s senses are hyper-aware. The air is stale in here, laced with a scent she’s never experienced before. It almost makes her gag but she forces herself to hold it in, not wanting to be seen as rude. A yellow light turns on overhead, flickering before finally staying lit. Yoongi is closer to her than she’s like him to be, but his back is turned, looking at the shelves built into the room. Even these are stuffed to the brim, absolutely filthy and covered in grime.

“The book is in good condition like you said, right?” YN asks him.

She’s going to be pissed if he pulls out a book covered in rat droppings and cobwebs.

“Of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. 

YN doesn’t quite believe him. Yoongi moves deeper into the storage room, YN following him. There are a variety of things in here that pique her interest - small items that float in murky water, a collection of old stained knives, and a snow globe bigger than her hand. She reaches out to touch it, curious about the scene inside of it, but Yoongi smacks her hand away before she can touch it.

YN brings it to her chest protectively, startled.

“Don’t touch that,” he hisses out.

“Sorry,” YN says.

“It’s in the very back,” Yoongi says.

YN swallows, following after him as he gets even deeper inside of the storage room. She looks at the snow globe over her shoulders, looking at the fake snow that’s swirling around even though she never got to shake it. 

This whole experience has been really unsettling, so when Yoongi stops and pulls a perfectly preserved book off the shelf, YN nearly sags in relief.

She reaches her hand out for it and Yoongi places it in her palm.

“You’re quite the collector, huh?” he asks her, his fingers still wrapped around the book.

“Yeah,” YN says, gently trying to pull it away from him.

His grip tightens. 

“So am I,” he says, smiling at her.

His teeth are incredibly straight and perfect, a complete contrast to the rest of his sickly and generally unkempt appearance. 

“That’s nice,” YN says, “Can I have the book now?”

“You know, I think the rarer an item is, the better it is for collecting.”

YN nods, agreeing and trying to decide if she should just cut her losses and run. But she’s looked for this book for over a year now and she finally has it in her grasp. She can’t give up yet.

“What do you collect?” YN asks, hoping that indulging him in conversation will get this experience to fly by faster. 

“Figurines, mostly,” he says, “Though everything else in this shop is mine as well, none of it holds my attention for very long. My figures, though. I adore them.”

“I like figures too,” YN says, all of the hairs on her body sticking straight up.

“Really? Would you like to see my collection?”

“No thank -”

“It won’t take long at all!” Yoongi says, suddenly insistent, “I’ll show you and then we can get you checked out, okay?”

Yoongi pulls the book away from YN entirely, practically dangling it in front of her. All the warning bells in her head are going off, but her desire to have this book has her internally soothing herself. Plenty of collectors are weird or just bad at speaking to people. He’s probably just the same as them.

“Okay,” YN says after a moment.

Yoongi gives her that perfect smile again and then turns to walk back the way they came, stopping in front of that snow globe. He picks it up and the entire shelf groans, sinking inwards and to the side to reveal a hidden pathway. A draft wafts up and tousles YN’s hair.

To hell with it. This is too far. Just as YN turns on her heel, preparing to run, Yoongi’s hand grasps her wrist, his skin cold as ice.

“You wanted to see right?” he asks her.

YN’s never seen a man so creepy. Everything about him is off.

“I changed my mind actually,” she says, wetting her lips and trying not to panic as those dead eyes follow the movement of her tongue, “I don’t really need the book.”

“Nonsense,” Yoongi says, dragging her inside, “You simply must see it.”

He’s surprisingly strong to look so sick. YN digs her heels into the floor but Yoongi has no problem dragging her inside. The door shuts behind them and Yoongi pulls her crying and screaming through another maze of pitch-black hallways until he steps foot into a showroom. 

Everything in here is impeccable. The floors shine and the lights overhead are bright. Her attention is immediately brought to the dozens of life-sized figures he has, each of them different. There are men and women, figures of all shapes, sizes, and ages. It looks like a creepily realistic wax museum.

YN doesn’t want to know why Yoongi has these figures. All she wants to do is go home.

“Please let me go,” YN says, tears streaming down her face.

“Let you go?” Yoongi asks her as if he’s genuinely confused, “Why would I let you go? You’re the final piece before my collection is complete.”

YN’s blood turns to ice. She turns her head to look at the figure closest to her, noticing the way its skin is too lifeline to be made of wax.

“Please no,” she begs him, trying her best to fight him off.

Just as she swings her free hand at his skull, he drops her and pushes her harshly, sending her straight to the ground, her skull smacking into the floor. 

Her ears ring and the bright lights overhead blur her vision. She feels nauseous as she raises her hand to touch the blood seeping from her scalp.

“Damn. I’ll have to make sure that gets cleaned up,” Yoongi mutters to himself, annoyed.

YN is terrified on the ground, but the blood on the ground makes her look like an angel, one surrounded by a halo. Yes, she really will be perfect, the very last piece of his collection.

He’s been following her for years, countlessly one step behind her as she snatched up several of the items he wanted for his own collection. It pissed him off to no end until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Even the thought of that smug smiles she always wears in her YouTube videos sent him into an outrage, one that landed him his first figure.

It was an accident, of course. The woman in his store had been there and accidentally knocked over one of his shelves, crushing her underneath it. 

She could have been saved, probably, but he’d never seen someone with a face like hers, so completely one of a kind, something he knew that YN would never be able to possess.��

And so a new obsession started. He would lure people he thought were interesting into his shop and lock them deep inside of it, propping them up on giant doll stands when they submitted to him.

It made him feel so powerful.

But YN was still out there, still always one step ahead of him. And so he laid this trap, ecstatic to finally have her in his possession. 

Yoongi leans over YN, watching as the light slowly starts to fade from her eyes. It’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, a true Christmas miracle. He can’t resist sinking to his knees, watching as confusion and fear swirl in her eyes. For once, his own gaze isn’t clouded, clear as a night sky, dark and absent of stars. 

Her blood smears on his fingers but he doesn’t mind, taking YN’s face in his hands tenderly and painting her lips crimson. He kisses her then, sucking her final breath into him, stealing it and her life away.

For an hour he just sits there and looks at her, completely mesmerized. She looks so beautiful in red that he decides to dress her in it, carefully pulling a red dress over her forms. She’s heavy in his arms when he picks her up and takes her to the spot he’s saved just for her, a plush red couch where she looks like she’s lounging peacefully, her lips smudged with her own lifeline.

And finally, his collection is complete. 

[horrorslashergirl]

Kinky December Day 4: Fireplace Sex with Chromeskull

Authors Note: We spend the fourth day of this event with Chromeskull and it seems this Florida guy hates the cold. Let’s see how Jesse deals with it. I decided to introduce my home country in this piece and share a little of my country with you all. Greetings from Romania! I hope you all have a warm winter.

Chromeskull x Reader- Not the usual Florida heat

Winter was all about the coldness, the pure white snow that fell from the sky, fluffy coats that hugged your body and drinking hot beverages, but that wasn't the case in Florida. You weren't looking forward to decorating a palm tree for Christmas, so you suggested your lover spending this year Christmas in your home country, which he agreed, all for you.

You had to stifle the laugh the first time you got off the plane in Romania and the first cold air that hit your bodies; Jesse was a shivering mess, pulling the black coat closer to his body, the mist of cold air that escaped his mouth with each breath he took.

The whole ride to the cabin you rented for the holiday was spent with Jesse searching for warmness, his body flush against yours in the backseat and the constant signing about how cold it was and something about him freezing his balls.

After five hours of driving, you reached the cabin, Jesse entering the cabin first and setting your and his luggage on the wood floorboards. The cabin was still cold and he had a constant frown on his scarred face, half of which was covered by a scarf.

'It's freezing cold inside.' Jesse signed with shaky fingers and you rolled your eyes at his bickering.

"Of course it's cold. We have to start making the fire, big baby." You told him as you waltzed into the living room, pulling your scarf off and coat, stretching your arms above your head. The cabin was very cozy and it was so good to be finally back in Romania, Jesse on the other hand? Not that much.

There was also another problem, the lack of firewood and you knew that the next words that will leave your mouth will make Jesse want to go back to Florida with the next plane.

"You will have to go outside and get wood for the fire." you told him and he gave you a simple look that said 'Are you kidding me?'.

"The ax is outside on the front porch. Good luck, stud." You told him, hiding the smirk that formed on your face as you heard the front door open and shut with a bang.

Jesse was a southern guy in all ways possible, spending all his life in the Floridian heat, so being dragged into your country when the winter was in full blast wasn't exactly something he enjoyed, but you knew he was doing all this for you and that made you happy. Looking around you decided that you should start decorating the cabin and make it homely.

You were grinning in victory when you found the Christmas decorations in a closet; as you were putting the shiny globes on the empty Christmas tree in the living room you heard the front door open, something being dropped on the floor and the door closed with a bang. Peeking your head in the hallway, you saw some wood by the front entrance.

It was a silent request: Start making the fire while I get more wood so my dick won't be transformed into a popsicle.

You quickly started to make the fire in the living room by the fireplace, your eyes shining as the bright flames came alive, the warmness kissing your cold hands. 

After one more hour, you looked around the now Christmas decorated living-room; Christmas tree beautifully shining with lights and all kinds of decorations, the flames dancing in the fireplace. Next, it was the food; you skipped into the kitchen and mentally thanked your friend for taking their time to come and bring the food, the fridge full of all you needed to cook.

You decided to make something homely, something traditional. One of the Romanian dishes that best represent the Balkan influence is the popular sarmale, stuffed cabbage or vine leaves with a mix of rice, minced meat, onion, tomatoes, and herbs. A favorite for most Romanians, this dish is usually served with cream and polenta and is a sure presence on all Christmas tables across the country. You also grinned wickedly when you found a certain bottle in one of the cabinets in the kitchen. Traditional spirit with approx. 40% alcohol, made from the distillation of plums. Its stronger alternative is Palinca or Țuică, usually prepared in Northern Romania (Ardeal county), distilled twice and made from different sorts of fruits.

Jesse loved fine liquor, so the thought of him taking a sip of this would be interesting; it was a strong drink and the note on the bottle made you giggle.

'A little treat before having fun.'

Back on cooking, next, it was Cozonac, a kind of Stollen made from leavened dough, into which milk, eggs, sugar, butter, and other ingredients are mixed together before baking. You decided to make it with almonds. After putting it in the oven, you decided that the last on the list would be a traditional warm soup, knowing Jesse will need something to put the coldness away.

You started to make meatball soup, a traditional Romanian sour soup with said meatballs consisting of pork and rice. They are seasoned with parsley, lovage, salt, borş, and sour cream.

Whipping your hands you were looking proud at the table filled with the warm Romanian cuisine, and just like the time couldn't be more perfect, you heard the front door open, a gust of cold wind and snow coming into the hallway.

You walked there to see Jesse covered in snow and shaking like a Chihuahua, and you giggled, making your behemoth lover glare at you and you knew if you were a piggy the ax he was holding in his gloved hand would be impaled straight in the center of your forehead.

'I hate winter. I hate the snow. Romania is cruel.' he signed, pulling his snow-covered coat, scarf, and hat off. Your eyes noticed the pile of wood by the door and you smiled warmly at Jesse, walking towards him and resting your hands on his chest, nuzzling into his cold chest, the turtleneck he was sporting didn't help much to keep him warm.

"I cooked for us. It's all warm." you whispered into his chest, rubbing his sides to get the coldness away.

'Finally. I'm starving. Chopping piggies heads off is much funnier, than chopping wood.' he signed, following you into the kitchen and you rolled your eyes.

Typical Jesse.

Brown eye widened as you entered the kitchen with him, the smell of delicious food hitting his nose, it was much warmer here from the oven constantly working up from your cooking.

Filling two small glasses with , you offered him one and he looked at it suspiciously.

"I'm not gonna poison you, idiot." you told him with a smirk making him snort.

You both raised the small glasses in salute and drowned the drink; you were used to the strong alcohol, but Jesse? You laughed as you watched him cough, looking at you like you were crazy.

"Stronger than whiskey, huh?" you asked Jesse all smugly.

'It's very good, but....How do you Romanians live drinking it?' he signed, making you giggle.

'By the way. Drinking isn't supposed after eating?' he asked you and you shake your head.

"Not this one, baby. Normally, Țuică is only consumed before the meal." you explained then offered a seat for him at the table, first serving him the warm soup, which he eats eagerly, probably starved from all the wood chopping and cruel weather outside.

Cruel for him of course.

Next was the second dish, which he looked at with confusion.

"Go ahead, take a bite." you urged him, continuing to eat your own meal.

You were ready to get another portion of sarmale, but your eyes widened when you saw that the big bowl was empty. Looking at Jesse you saw him lean into the chair, a content look on his face, rubbing his stomach.

"You eat all of them." you said, almost dumbfounded.

'It was delicious, doll. How come you haven't cooked these meals for me before?' he asked, filling his glass with the traditional Romanian liquor that he seemed to get accustomed to.

"I didn't think you would like them that much." you whispered and he simply smirked, shrugging.

'So? What else you got for me?' he signed, ready to eat more.

"I didn't think I would have to feed a lion, but we still got some dessert." you told him, offering the plate of cozonac to him.

He took a small bite of the good and his brown eye lit up, getting the plate from your hands and eating all of the pieces. After he was done, he closed his eye and sighed silently, his stomach full and feeling like he was in heaven.

"Geez, all Americans are big gluttons?" you sassily asked with a raised eyebrow, amused to say the last, but also very proud of your cooking.

Jesse opened his eye and gave you a lop-sided smirk.

'Everything that you do is delicious, baby girl....Including your own little self.' he signed, licking his lips as he gave you a not very discreet look that made you blush.

"Well, I'm glad you aren't bickering about the cold anymore, but I have to wash the dishes." you told him, getting from the chair and walking to the sink, only for a pair of strong arms to wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush against Jesse.

"Jesse?" you called on to him, only feeling his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, his face nuzzling into your hair, the embrace you were trapped tightening.

'I want more dessert.' he signed in front of you, turning you around and backing you into the living room, his eyes on the fireplace and he pulled away from you to put more logs to keep the cabin all warm and cozy.

'Come here, doll. Come to daddy.' he signed, beckoning you over to him, which you happily did.

You could never deny him anything, not Jesse. He did so many things for you, treating you like a princess, making sure you had no worries, that you were always smiling. Walking over to him, you pressed your lips against his, your hands moving up and down his chest, while his own were cupping your asscheeks through your black leggings.

Tongues rubbed against each other, loving how you both tasted, how delicious you were. Teeth nipped at his lower lip and he let out a silent growl that vibrated through your mouth. The next thing you knew, you found yourself on your back on the soft, fluffy rug in front of the fireplace with Jesse between your legs.

He looked down at you with a mischievous smirk.

'Since I'm a guest in Romania, I should get the full-on experience, sugartits.' he signed deviously and you chuckled, starting to kiss his neck, your hands moving under his black turtleneck and over his chest, your cold hands making him shiver and jump slightly.

'Fuck....You're so cold.' he signed, resting his forehead against yours as your thumb grazed one of his nipples.

"Mhmm....You know I have bad circulation. You weren't bickering about it back in Florida." you commented, making him snort, one of his hands moving under your leggings to pinch your buttcheek, a squeal leaving your lips.

He didn't waste another moment with signing, tugging on your sweatshirt off along with your leggings and socks, leaving you in only black matching lingerie.

"Hey....You're way too overdressed here." you whined, making Jesse chuckle silently against your collarbone, his hands moving behind you to unclasp your bra, nipples hardening as you felt the tickle of the flames kiss your skin which was so sensitive from all the teasing.

Your hands found the edge of Jesse's turtleneck and tugged it up, exposing inked skin, your fingers running over the intricate designs, admiring every detail that he had to offer.

"You're so handsome." you whispered; God, he loved you so much.

Jesse never thought that he would ever spend Christmas with a beloved one ever again, not with the face he had, but you proved him wrong and he felt like this was all a dream and he was afraid he was going to wake up. he couldn't bear the idea of losing you.

He has pulled away from the dark thoughts when you cupped his scarred cheek, looking up at him with a longing look on your face.

"Jesse.....mae love to me." you whispered, giving him an innocent look from under your eyelashes.

He felt all his restraints leave him; he couldn't control himself when you looked at him like that. Lips crashed into yours in a needy kiss, his hands working on his black cargo pants and socks, pulling every layer of clothing off. Finally, his hands tugged on the waistband of your panties, pulling the last piece of clothing that separated both of you.

You shivered when you felt his intimidating length brush against your inner thigh, his big hands cupping your ass, loving how small you were compared to him, all the power dynamic between you two was making all the blood rush straight to his cock.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," you whispered against his neck, your teeth grazing his Adam apple.

Jesse tightened his grip on your skin, brown gaze looking down at you and when you tightened your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his cock flush against your already dripping pussy, he felt like he would almost come undone; the effects you were having on him were making him feel like a virgin teenager.

One hand moved between your legs, running his palm over your slit, his face into the crock of your neck inhaling in your sweet scent; you were just so perfect and when he guided his length inside you, he thought he died and went to heaven.

You were such an angel, an angel that decided to sin with the devil.

You were so warm and tight, gripping his length like a hot soft blanket, so wet and ready to be pounded into oblivion. He started with slow and long thrusts, savoring every inch of your walls.

"H-Harder, please...." you moaned out, your hands gripping his biceps, nails dragging over tattooed skin.

'Beg me...Beg me to fuck you, my queen.' he signed with shaky hands.

Your breathing picked up, gulping down, and wetting your lips with your tongue.

"Jesse...Please, fuck me harder. I need you so bad. I’m…so…dam…horny right now." you whined, inner walls clenching on him as he picked up his pace, not wasting any moment to bring you such satisfaction, knowing he was the only one able to make you beg, make you shake under him all helpless.

The sounds your pussy was making around his cock was music to his ears, feeling your juices coating his cock with every pull and push of his hips. He would have liked to tease you more, but he loosed his patience. He will have more time tomorrow to tease the hell out of you, but now? All he wanted was to fill you up until you will be dripping his cum until the next day.

Jesse wished he could have more control around you. Gripping your legs tightly he began to pound into you mercilessly, making your breasts move with each push against you; scarred lips pulled into a snarl as he felt the delicious knot in the pit of his stomach.

Oh so close, just a few more thrusts.

When you came hard on his cock, squirting over the rock-hard length he came undone, following in your climax. Your nails dragged down his back as you felt hot jets of cum coat your inside, milking him for all he was worth.

"Te iubesc atât de mult." you whispered in his ear, making his eye widen, your accent so sweet.

You thought him a few Romanian words so he knew exactly what you said, but it was the way you said it; so sincere and innocent.

'God, I love it when you talk Romanian.' he signed, nuzzling his face into your neck, layers of sweat coating your bodies as you snuggled into each other in front of the fire on the white fluffy rug.

"Mmmm Jesse.....Will you pull out?" you murmured into his chest as he laid you both on your sides.

'Later....You're so warm.' he signed, lips pressing against your forehead.

"You're such a child." you said, rolling your eyes, but your arms tightened around him.

Not even the big blizzard outside bothered Jesse anymore, not when he had your naked form in his arms.

'Will you make more of your traditional food?' Jesse asked, eye shining like a child's with enthusiasm.

"Mhmmm.....if you will take care of the firewood." you replied.

'Crap...'

END

[passivenovember]

Chapter Six of : If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields

--

Billy goes home less than an hour after Steve suggests they play operation. When he looks at Billy with eyelashes Neil Armstrong could see from the moon and suggests they cozy up among the coffee table books to do some lasting good in the world; get the tooth out of that guy's dick for him--

Billy has to get out of there.

It was too much.

The house. The colors. The fabric. The smell of Steve's shampoo, which is less like peeled lemons and more like funeral flowers, the longer Billy sits around getting sunburnt under the intense light of a man who wasn't interested in him beyond starched collar friendship.

And he's not mad at Steve. Isn't on his way to punch a hole in his drywall, or anything, but he's mad at himself. Mad at his heart for kicking up a cloud of pink smoke when Billy stands and says he'd better get going. 

And Steve's face falls like snow that covers Billy's driveway, that glues his feet together.

"Papers." Billy says quickly, searching for the coat he knows he didn't bring up the drive.

"Newspapers?" Steve goes along with him, adjusting the yellow bandana behind his ears. He turns with a swoosh of his orange rug robe to dig through the shelves on the wall. "I have some here. Old ones, new ones. There's an edition from 1985 about the mall burning down, it's pretty interesting. Would you like that?"

"Sure, I'll, uh--" Billy takes the yellowing pages from Steve without really thinking about it, jerking away when Harrington lands too close. Close enough that Billy can see the specks of green in his eyes. "I meant. Teaching papers. Assignments." The newspaper smells old. Like books and dust, and faintly of spilled bong water from the pipe of a baghead teenager long ago. "I have to grade papers."

Steve doesn't take it back from him. "I thought you taught kindergarten."

"I do."

"Kindergarteners write papers?" Steve's hair flops across his forehead. Like big, wavy puppy dog ears on either side of his face. 

Billy has to force his tongue to stay in his mouth, his eyes to stop staring. "I meant, like. Spelling. Numbers. Rudimentary bullshit." Billy shakes the newspaper at puppy dog Steve. "Declan Parks can't even tie his own shoes, so--"

"Alright. Okay." Steve says sweetly, pushing Billy's hand back to his own chest, fingers wrapping around his palm. "Take it with you. There's a lot of history in this town, mythology and folklore--rumors of bloodsucking aliens and evil scientists camping out under the power plant." Steve doesn't let go of Billy's hand. He grins instead, dimples popping like fireworks on his face. "We're a regular Twin Peaks ripoff. Read about it, let me know what you think." And.

Steve doesn't back away. Doesn't back down.

"I'll give you a ring sometime." Billy says suddenly.

"Okay."

"Yeah, alright, uh." Billy backs toward the front door, two finger salute making pink skies land on Steve's face. "Thanks for the grub. I'll see you in the driveway, or--"

Steve laughs, following Billy to the door. 

"Around. Yeah, Steve, I'll--"

Steve places a hand on Billy's shoulder and the world stops spinning. Melting right off the bone. Billy fights to get air in his lungs as Steve brushes a lock of hair from his forehead, fingertips lighting Billy's skin on fire.

"See you around, neighbor." Steve says.

And Billy knows, feels in his bones, that he'd do better moving across town.

--

It keeps snowing. 

Morning noon and night, wood nymphs piling on ice and hail down on a town of 36,000 people until Billy feels alone. Like an animal trapped in a beige house on a white street that exists in a bubble. A snow globe immune to light and sound. 

There's a period of days where school is cancelled and Billy runs out of things to keep himself occupied. All the books have been read and returned to their place on the shelf. All the films watched and replayed until Billy draws his own conclusions, until the characters feel like his own.

On the first day Billy feels like he's losing his mind.

He orders groceries. Picks up some thermal socks. Considers making a pie or something from scratch, like his mother used to do before Neil went missing on Christmas Eve, but. He doesn't have a rolling pin.

On the second day he drags a chair over to the window and stares at the warm, peachy light from Steve's upstairs window as it shine on the drifts that gather and climb toward heaven. Billy thinks about that living room as if it were a vision from some other planet. A universe crafted in the image of virality.

Billy thinks about Steve and wishes he could be like that. 

Wide eyed. Free.

--

On the third day, Megan says Billy should begin preparing for spring.

"We're snowed in." Billy mutters, cleaning up the polish on his toes. A gorgeous matte eggplant color that proves--spring isn't on his radar. 

"You're getting bogged down with the ice and snow," Megan reiterates, pen scratching across the page so loudly that Billy can hear it with the phone on speaker. "Before long the flowers will bloom again. The sun will shine, it's something everyone has to prepare for. Rebirth, growth--"

"I don't have a garden."

"Don't be a shitter, Billy." Megan sighs, but he can hear the smile in her voice. "We can work with that. Would it do some good to plant one?"

Billy starts painting his other foot. "I don't want to stay in Hawkins forever."

"That's understandable."

"And I have plans this spring." Billy twists the cap onto the nail polish, swinging his foot around in the air as if that'll make things move faster. "Max and I want to go hiking back home. I'm supposed to help my mom get the boathouse ready for the summer, and I don't want to start something permanent in a place I can't see myself settling down in--"

"A couple marigold bushes are not permanent, you could kill 'em off with a single neglectful week in the summer and you know it." Megan falls silent, only the click of her pen left behind. "This move has been rough on you, and it's been rough on your body, and it's been hell on your space."

Billy shrugs. "It's been fine on my space."

"Have you even finished unpacking?" Megan demands, strictly business.

"I don't want to set down roots--"

"You've lived in Hawkins for two years, Billy, and you haven't finished unpacking."

A lump appears in his throat, just like that, just. Choking the air from his lungs. Megan must hear Billy swallow, or sense the shift in the air because her voice goes soft around the edges. Pliant. "It's a new cycle." 

Billy tries not to think about Max. "Alright."

"Time to blow the cobwebs away." 

"Dust the spider houses." Billy says to himself. He tries not to think about their garden back home, the fertile smell of fresh Earth somehow finding its way to Hawkins despite Billy's efforts. He misses Mammoth Lakes. He tries not to think about it. Then; "Max is coming down for my week off."

"That's not until March."

"So?"

Megan sighs, like Billy should get it by now. "That's way into the spring season, what you need this year is to get a head start." She scribbles something down on the page again. "We've been through this before. You're beyond me spelling out what you need. You've been my client long enough to know the type of person you are, Billy."

He smirks. "Yeah, and what kind of person is that?"

"Someone who likes to open his doors and let in the fresh air." She moves some papers around, voice firm. "Bright colored walls, and bird baths littering diverse lawns even though they turn to green slime when not filtered properly. The kind of man who likes to shop second hand because 'everything has a soul--'"

"Are you reading from my journal?"

"Need I go on?" Megan lets Billy mull it over for a moment. Lets him draw is own conclusions. When she speaks again it's like Billy already knows what she wants to say. Already believes it himself, but. That's never stopped her before. 

"We were just talking about Steve last week."

"We're always talking about Steve," Billy snaps. "Last week, and the week before that, and yesterday and tomorrow--"

"Perpetually." Megan teases. "I know. But you said you liked his house. That's what we discussed last time; not Steve or his hair or how embarrassed you are about the rats--" Billy wishes everyone would let that part go. "But his house. The way it made you feel."

He can see it in his minds eye--Megan leaning forward, legs uncrossed on her big hammock chair, blue and gray glasses catching the glint in her eye as she pokes through his spirit and lands at the root.

The bone.

"What is it you liked about Steve's place and what is it you hate about your own and where is the through line?"

She gives him homework. Student and teacher.

Billy hates homework, but. He jots the instructions down in his notebook anyway and wonders, distantly, if the skies will continue to open above his head and if he'll ever learn to accept it.

--

On the fourth day Billy's power goes out. 

Just like that. 

With no bang or whimper it's just there one moment and gone the next.

One minute he's watching Wayne's World, wrapped in five blankets and eating soup from one of those bowls with the built in straw, and the next he's submerged in darkness. Looking around the living room like a startled chicken, still slurping down tomato soup and hoping it's just a surge.

It's not. 

Billy finishes his soup.

He manages to keep the feeling in his toes even as he wanders around the house lighting every candle he can find, sticking towels over the cracks in his front door and remembering to turn the faucets on drip so the pipes won't freeze overnight.

Outside the storms keep raging.

Billy can't see the end of the front porch, so he grabs his blankets and heads to bed. Remembers to plug in his phone, on the off chance that the power will come back on while he's out, and Billy feels good about himself for a lot of reasons. For remembering his Midwestern Winter Survival Skills, and buying thermal socks when he went shopping last week, and as the temperature keeps dropping Billy feels himself drifting off.

Warm and safe in his cocoon of blankets, he wonders if the power has come back on when someone bangs on his bedroom window.

Billy sits bolt upright, hissing as cold air manages to snake in through an opening near his feet. The knock comes again, louder this time, and Billy thinks about what he read from that article in the Hawkins Post dated July 5th, 1985. 

"Billy?" 

Harrington is wrapped in a blanket. 

That's all, just a knitted monstrosity of orange and green draped across his shoulders, paired with a black hoodie and the care bears scarf that haunts Billy's dreams. He's got yellow gardening gloves on his fingers and, over his head of wavy brown hair, a pink beanie that reads, If I Die of Aids--Forget Burial--Drop My Body on the Steps of the FDA, in teal block letters.

Steve Harrington could break hearts.

Billy's heart is floating through the air, just. Decimated. As Steve smiles and taps on the window. "I tried the front but I figured you were asleep." He says.

And it takes Billy a minute to find his voice. He opens the window, grimacing at the snow on the ledge that topples in. "What are you doing?"

"I cleared a path. Around the house. By the propane tank." Steve says, gesturing with his stupid little gloves. "I took care of the driveway for you. And put some ice melt down, brought some firewood up to the door."

"Wait, what?"

"I just picked some up from Melvalds yesterday, it's no biggie--"

"The powers out." Billy grumbles, using the corner of his blanket to scrub at his face. "Shouldn't you be stock piling layers, like the rest of us?"

"'S not so bad at home."

"It's colder in here than it is outside."

Steve jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "Mr. Bane's auditioning to be a starfish on my mattress."

"Push that little fucker over the edge." 

Steve leans back, gripping the window ledge with an easy smile. "I could never do that. We have a system--I let him sleep on my bed every night on the condition that he doesn't shit in the hallway anymore." Steve lifts one hand and taps his forehead, pleased as punch. "Work smarter, not harder. Right?"

And that makes Billy blush. Either from the image of Steve's fat Mainecoon running the show or the fact that Steve lets it happen, even on the coldest night of the year. 

It's sweet. 

Steve's sweet. Like sun tea with extra sugar, just--

"So where does that leave you?" Billy muses, picking at a loose thread on his pillow case just to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. "It's too cold for the floor, and the living room's gotta be drafty, right?"

Steve shrugs, leaning against the window pane and looking over his shoulder, as if daring the ice to fall again. "I have an extra blanket or two, should be alright."

With his head turned that way Billy can see moles--dozens of little chocolate kisses sprinkled over Steve's skin, swirling and disappearing under the hood at his neck. 

He's beautiful.

Billy thinks the moles could taste like cinnamon or nutmeg. Hot chocolate with little drops of citrus enriching the flavor--

"You could sleep here." Billy's mouth says. 

Steve stares at him, eyes wide, but. Not surprised. Not mean. "Really?" He asks, folding his arms on the window pane and studying Billy's face. Forehead and eyelashes and back again, like maybe this is a joke. "You'd let me sleep on the couch?"

"Sure."

"What makes you think your places' gonna be any better?" Steve demands.

Light.

Teasing.

Billy shrugs again and his stupid blanket slips off one shoulder, revealing a strip of hoodie that may as well be his bare fucking skin, the way Steve's eyes track the movement. Filing it away for some unknown purpose even as Billy rights himself again. He feels every bit like the heroine in those shitty dieback erotica's his mom still reads every Saturday morning. The window lets in gust after gust of frigid air and Billy decides that he isn't going to beg.

"I'm not going to beg," Billy reiterates, though he doesn't sound convinced. "Come sleep at mine or don't, that's--"

"Unlock the front door," Steve says, and then he's gone, rainboots leaving a trail of footprints to show that this was real. 

That one night, with ice covering the trees and fields like a blanket of hope, Steve was real.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

All I want for Christmas is You

Summary: Donaka could ask for what he wants. Because he would get it. But sometimes breaking someone to get what he wants, is so much more fun.

Pairing: Donaka Mark x OFC (Sara Morgan)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: stalking (very questionable behavior, okay?) mentions of sextoys (if you need a warning for that)

A/N: I thought I should at least write one of the Christmas Challenge Prompts, so here is my creepy take on “All I want for Christmas is you”

Masterlist

Donaka didn’t make much out of christmas. It had been just like any other day his whole life. He didn’t get into the festive mood. Which could have to do with the fact that it was harder to pay people to like you on days like christmas when they wanted to be with their own families.

He never understood the urge of people to do something for their loved ones just to see them happy. That was until he saw her eyes on the first company christmas party a couple years ago for the first time. It had been her first year outside of the states and she had just started working for one of his employees. Sara Morgan. A beautiful and intelligent young woman who always had a smile on her face. She had been in charge of planning the christmas party and Donaka himself had to admit he felt like he’d been thrown into a snow globe back then. Every surface had been covered in snow. Everything was blinking.

He didn’t notice it at first. His need to know more about her. It started with reading in on her file. Then he hired a private investigator to find out everything about her. Like a miracle (he initiated) she slowly climbed up the positions in his company until just at the beginning of this very year she became his secretary.

That’s when Donaka made the decision. He wanted her. He wanted her for himself. He wanted to be the only one who saw that smile. That little smile when got a compliment. How she would blush and shake her head before she looked up with a soft smile.

It was around the beginning of december when his plan finally was set into motion. He saw the courier arrive at her desk just outside his office with a package. Donaka got up from his seat behind his desk to make his way to her.

Of course he could just have asked her out. Like people do. But Donaka wanted her to come to him. Something that would never happen cause Sara would never sleep with her boss. He knew how all the former managers had tried it. So Donaka made a plan. A plan that would end with Sara having no other choice but to come to him.

“Anything interesting Miss Morgan?” He asked as he walked to her desk.

“Uhm…” She was flustered, that he could tell. “Just the signed contracts we have been waiting for. I’ll get them to legal right away.” She said quickly.

“And that package?” He gestured towards the package.

“I… It’s addressed to me. I’m not sure…”

“You know we don’t allow personal deliveries around here.” He said.

“I.. I know. And I don’t know who sent it. It’s probably a mistake….”

“Only one way to find out.” He nodded towards her. She looked up at him, her beautiful green eyes pleading with him. When Donaka didn’t make a move to leave she sighed and began to open her package. He followed her every move with his eyes. The way she held the scissors to open the package. Her fingers as she grabbed the wrapped box inside.

“From your secret admirer.” She whispered reading the card and frowned before she carefully unwrapped the box. A little smile sneaked to her face.

“These are beautiful.” Sara took out the bouquet of blue roses, bringing them to her nose to smell them.

“Blue?” Donaka asked.

“It’s my favorite color.”

“Seems like someone knows you very well.” Donaka said, as he turned around to leave for his meeting, suppressing his grin.

It was on day four when things started to get a little weird for Sara. She was still wondering who sent the flowers when another package arrived the day after. Her favorite chocolates. She shared them with Donaka on their way out to a meeting she had to accompany him. He had asked her if she had an idea who it was that sends the gifts, but she had no idea. Deep inside she had hoped it was him. Donaka Mark was an impressive and handsome man. A man she would never have. But the thought of him being interested in someone like her made her wait for the next day with excitement.

On day three, after lunch she came back to a piece of her favorite cake and her favorite tea waiting for her on her desk. Thankfully Donaka was nowhere to be seen. As much as she enjoyed the gifts, getting them at work, for everyone to see seemed a little unprofessional. Even if she had the tiniest hope it was him who sent the fits.

When day four arrived and the mailman set a package down in front of her that contained her favorite perfume, things started to get a little weird. The gifts in the following days got more personal and she kissed the idea of her boss sending these gifts goodbye.

It was a week later when Donaka noticed a change in her behaviour. She seemed on edge. Of course he knew why. He started out with innocent stuff he sent to her, but two days ago there was a very revealing Victoria's secret set delivered to her. He had fun at the store, imagining her in all these sexy outfits. Though he prefers his women to be not wearing anything at all.

Yesterday something had been delivered to her home address. Photos of herself in her bedroom. He smiled to himself. Changing. His plan was in full action.

“Sara?” He said, making her jump as he got out of his office.

“Yes Sir?” She asked, her voice high.

“Is everything set for today’s christmas party?” He asked. Of course she was still in charge of everything christmas.

“Oh yes. If it’s okay I would like to head over to the restaurant in an hour to check if everything is in order.” She looked up. He noticed the circles around her eyes.

“Of course Sara. But…” He stepped closer. “Are you okay? You look like you didn’t sleep last night.” He asked concerned.

“I… Thank you for asking. It’s just been some busy days.” She forced a smile.

“You know you can talk to me if there’s anything bothering you, right?” Donaka said.

“Of course Sir.” Her smile didn’t look as forced as before.

“I mean it. And of course you can head off to the restaurant. I will be a little late today.”

“I’ll save a seat for you, Sir.” Sara whispered. Donaka winked at her before left.

Sara couldn’t shake the feeling off that she was being watched. She left the restaurant just in time to get ready at home before she got back again. She noticed that she hadn’t received a package yet. And she hoped it would stay this way. What started out as a nice distraction from a secret admirer slowly was becoming a case for the local police. She still hadn’t figured out how that person got the photos of her in her apartment.

She knew all she had to do was tell her boss who basically ruled the city, but she didn’t want Donaka to know. He had enough to deal with himself. The man worked around the clock. How he managed to look this good doing it, was a miracle to her. Of course she noticed how attractive he was. She wasn’t blind. But she also knew that she was at least 20 years younger and that he kind of seemed like he wasn’t interested in women. Or men for that matter. He either was asexuel or had a sex slave. At least that’s what her very wild imagination came up with. Smiling at the bartender she took a glass of champagne to calm her nerves. Her co-workers slowly arrived and soon her creepy secret santa was the last thing on her mind. Her former boss, Marcus was just about to tell another one of his stories, when she felt a hand on her shoulder making her jump.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Donaka said. Sara looked up, taking in her boss who was dressed in all black with a deep red tie.

“It’s okay, Sir. Glad you could make it.” She smiled a little shy before she looked away and talked to her colleagues. Donaka loved the dress she was wearing. Like a present ready to unwrap. She was wearing another perfume than usual. Her hair was styled in waves and on her left shoulder. She looked beautiful.

“How are you spending your holidays, Sir?” He heard her ask. He blinked, surprised that he had gotten lost in his thoughts so quickly.

“I work. Like every year.” Donaka answered.

“Not a big fan of christmas?” Sara asked.

“Never had anyone to celebrate it with.” He shrugged. He could read in her face that she had questions, but she knew better as to ask him personal questions in front of anyone. In the last months when she had stayed longer to work with him, he had answered a question or two about his personal life. Something he never did before.

“I’m gonna head out for a cigarette.” He squeezed her shoulder before he nodded at the people surrounding them and walked outside on the big patio.

He was just about to finish his cigarette when he heard the click of heels behind him. Turning around he saw Sara looking at him.

“All of this looks beautiful.” He said.

“Thank you Sir.” She smiled.

“Donaka please.” He added. Everytime he heard the word Sir leave her lips he felt his cock twitch.

“Donaka.” Her smile got wider. She slowly walked outside, admiring the city view as he finished his cigarette.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sara said after a while.

“Of course.”

“If… If you had the feeling that you were being watched… What would you do?” He turned his head towards her, seeing her suck in her bottom lip.

“I would ask my security to do a better job. Do you think someones watching you?” He asked concern in his voice. He stepped closer to her, making her tilt her head up so she could look at him.

“I’m… “ She shook her head. “No. Probably watched too many scary movies lately.” She closed her eyes.

“You know that you can talk to me, right?” Donaka said quietly, suppressing the urge to brush away the stray of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

“Of course.” She smiled. “Thank you Donaka.”

The party was in full motion when the secret santa gifts were given out. Sara sat next to Donaka the whole evening and they actually talked. About everything. She found out about his love for motorcycles and he learned that she always wanted to be a cook but ended up working this job because she didn’t have enough money to open her own restaurant.

Donaka opened his present and actually had to laugh at the blinking reindeer ears. It was probably the champagne but he put them on, much to the delight of his employees and Sara.

“Looks good. We should change the Christmas cards to pictures of you wearing these.”

“Careful Miss Morgan. I’m still your boss.” Donaka teased.

“Of course Sir.” She winked at him. Shaking her head she unwrapped her gift and he could see her hands shaking.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just…. Nevermind.” She shook her head. He looked at her face in the moment she opened the package. Of course he knew what was inside. It was risky, but he hoped that this would finally make her run into his arms.

He saw the forced smile on her face as she opened the lid, her hands still shaking. Sara didn’t want to open a present in front of her boss.

“Oh my god…” She whispered, seeing the pink vibrator and closing the box immediately. Shaking her head she set it down on the table before she practically fled outside. This couldn’t be happening. Sara ran outside, thankful that there weren’t any people around as she tried to get air into her lungs. She didn’t even realize Donaka was following her until she felt hands on her upper arms.

“Breathe with me. In…. and out….” He said looking at her. It took a couple minutes before she finally calmed down. Letting her head fall against his chest. Donaka carefully wrapped his arms around her until she was safe in his arms. Looking over her shoulder he guided them both out of sight.

“What happened there?” He whispered.

“I… These gifts I got the whole week. They were nice in the beginning but… a couple days ago I got lingerie. Very revealing lingerie. And yesterday…. Yesterday someone sent pictures to my home address of myself in my apartment and I have no idea who took them. Or who sent them. I thought I’d be safe today but…”

“I saw the gift you just got.” Donaka said.

She shook her head. Terrified.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Donaka asked.

“You’re my boss. You have more important stuff to take care of.” Sighing he leaned back, his hand tilting her chin up.

“I’d like to think we are friends, Sara.”

“You do?”

“Of course. And now tell me everything that happened, so I can take care of it.”

“You should have told me right away Sara. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m gonna let my security deal with it. And you’re not going home tonight. You can stay with me. Or in a hotel. I don’t want you going home until this is dealt with.”

“But… I can’t possibly…”

“I don’t accept any arguments. It’s with me or in a hotel with one of my bodyguards outside.” He said sternly. Sara looked at him. Donaka looked genuinely concerned. And she was genuinely scared to go home alone. Sighing, she finally nodded.

“I’ll go with you. It’s probably easier, your home is like fort knox.”

“Thank you.” He breathed out and allowed himself to kiss her forehead before he pulled her closer, his chin on top of her head.

A familiar song reached their ears “I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know, make my wish come true. All I want for christmas is you…”

“I’ll keep you safe, Sara.” He said, thankful that Sara couldn’t see the smirk on his face.

[jtsfavslut]

Winter Wonderland [GD]

Dolanmas Day Two

Winter Wonderland - Michael Buble

Description: Grayson takes Y/N skating in New York,  everything is perfect, even if things don't go according to plan. 

Warnings: nothing but nice, sweet things!!!

Word Count: 2.3K+

Christmas in the city was one of Y/N's top priorities on her mental bucket list. One that Grayson had memorized like it was his ABC's. This Christmas he wanted to make sure that instead of a fantasy, it became her reality. When she found out what they would be doing for Christmas, she couldn't help but let a few happy tears out, feeling so excited and loved by Grayson. She thought of how he went out of his way to make one of her fantasies come true, even if it was for a silly holiday.

"Are you ready babe?" he asked and she nodded her head. Grayson decided to visit his mom on the way, staying at her house for a few days, spending some time in New York, then going back to his mom's house for Christmas.

Y/N, couldn't help but feel ecstatic, spending time with the people she valued so much while having her wish come true, all because of him.

The train ride to New York was only an hour, but it felt like hours to her, "I'm so excited," she gushed and he smiled, seeing her happy made him happy. She watched as people walked in and out of the train station, holding back a squeal as they made their way out of the station and into the city.

The large buildings covered in snow made her heart content. The way the snow slowly fell from the sky making her body feel warm, even if it was below 30 degrees.

"Baby, so I found three things to do," he began speaking and she nodded her head, "We're gonna have to wait until it's dark out for two of them, but we can start going to the first one now, it's a 20 minute walk, or do you wanna take the train?"

"We can walk if you want, I kinda want to look around if that's cool with you," she replied and he nodded his head.

Y/N has obviously been to New York before, plenty of times actually. But never during the Holiday season, as they walked around she admired everything. Taking everything in, stopping at a few places to grab a drink and take pictures of each other, until they finally reached their destination, making her jaw drop and her heart to fill with nothing but love and happiness,

"Grayson, no you didn't," she spoke before pulling him into a hug, causing a chuckle to fall past his lips.

"Sure did babe," he smiled. He took her to a Winter Village he found while doing his 'research', and knowing she was going to love it, he added it to the things he wanted to do that weekend.

When Y/N found herself in the famous Winter Village in Bryant Park, she didn't know where to exactly look, finding something more interesting with every step they took.

"Gray, oh my God look, it's a little nutcracker," she gushed pointing to one of the little kiosks that were selling hand-carved and painted nutcrackers, the ones that Grayson loves so much.

"Which one babe?" he chuckled and followed her to the table, the old man that was selling them, telling them a story about how he started making them and whatnot.

"Gray, this one looks like you," she pointed to one and he shook his head with a smile.

"And this one looks like you," he replied, picking up a ballerina one that had similar facial features to hers.

"Oh God, if only I was a ballerina," she chuckled as the man watched the pair in adoration.

"You really love each other don't you?" he asked with a smile, causing the couple to blush.

"Yeah," they spoke in unison, smiling at each other before looking back at the man.

"We'll take these two," Y/N smiled and he nodded his head, bending down to get a paper bag and some stuffing paper from a bucket underneath the table, before taking the medium-sized figures from their hands and carefully placing them in the back, exchanging it with the $20 bill Y/N handed him before Grayson could.

"Have a great Christmas you guys, take care," he waved them off before they walked away.

"What do you say and we come back in a few years and get mini ones," he smiled, making her stop on her tracks.

"Like babies?"

"Yeah like babies, we already have us, now we just need the kids we're having," he said and she smiled nodding her head.

"I'd like that," she smiled, grabbing his hand and walking away to the other little shops.

"Babe, I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," she spoke and he nodded his head, she walked away into the woman's bathroom, while Grayson looked around, trying to find something to surprise her with.

His attention was immediately caught by a table filled with all kinds of snow globes, and little souvenirs, he walked towards it, noticing a middle aged couple putting out some more.

"Hi, sweetie! What can I help you with?" the woman asked with a smile and the man continued to organize the stuff.

"Hi, I'm looking for something to surprise my girlfriend with," he smiled and she nodded her head.

"And what kind of stuff is she into?"

"Well, she always wanted to spend the holidays here, so maybe something with all the buildings and stuff,' he replied and her face filled with excitement.

"John, give me the one," she spoke, emphasizing the 'one' making Grayson question what she meant by the one.

His question was answered when John handed the woman a snow globe, a small version of the city covered in snow was captured in the globe, frozen in time. Just how he wanted these moments with her to be. Frozen and untouched.

He purchased the globe, quickly sliding it in his pocket and making his way towards Y/N who walked out of the restrooms just as he put it away, "Find anything?"

"Nah, I just waited for you," he replied, and she nodded her head before looking around.

They spent about two hours having fun, spending, and eating.

Everyone felt content, and Grayson's plan was working on his end, everything happening just like he planned it.

"Where to next?" she asked taking a sip of the hot chocolate she bought at one of the stands, the heat warning her body so perfectly.

"You'll see," he replied, not giving her the answer she wanted, making her playfully roll her eyes as he grabbed her hand and walked towards their next place.

"Gray, Gray, I'm gonna fall," she slightly shouted as nervous giggles fell past her lips.

Y/N's dream was to go skating, and Grayson took her skating…..there was just one tiny little problem. Neither she nor Grayson knew how to skate.

Leaving them stumbling in the middle of Rockefeller Center as others zoomed past them.

"Why does my dream include something that we have no idea how to do," she laughed as her arms tightly clutched onto Grayson's, who was a little more stable than her.

"I'm not sure, but here we are," he smiled at the way she was doing everything. The way she nervously held on to him, the way she turned her head to look behind her, or the way she would shake up every time someone passed them.

"Thank you for bringing me here Gray," she spoke after she had finally gotten the catch, she wasn't perfect at it, but more stable and they hadn't fallen yet which was enough for her to consider it an achievement.

"I'd do anything for you," Grayson whispered, making a rush of blood reach up to her cheeks, the red tint mixing with the cold.

"I'd do anything for you too, and more," she replied as they went around the rink.

"Not possible,"

"Yes, it is," she laughed, shaking her head as they accidentally bumped on the edge.

"How bout' we stop here before we fall?" Grayson asked and she nodded her head. They quickly left the rink and changed back into their shoes before walking around the place.

"This tree is so big, my God," she whispered, tilting her head up to look at the entire Christmas tree.

"Honestly, I don't even know where they get it from," Grayson replied, making her laugh.

"Well obviously from a tree farm dummy, they grow it and donate it," she said, still looking at it, the reflection of the lights in her eyes making them sparkle.

"Not that! I mean like how do they get it to be so big," he spoke making her shrug.

"That my love, I have absolutely no idea," she sighed, turning around to face him, "why are you so perfect?"

"Y/N, babe, I am far from perfect, you, however? You are everything I always wanted and wished for," he spoke so truthfully, no doubt could be found within his voice.

After Grayson's big failure at his desperate, and rushed attempt to find his soulmate, he gave up and lost all hope.

That was until Y/N came along, He fell fast, ignoring all of Ethan's warnings. He then took some time to himself, remembering that he told himself he wasn't going to rush into things, but he couldn't get away from her, so he just let it happen.

Now they were here, a normal relationship, everything Grayson always wanted, and something it took time to get used to.

He was used to the typically rushed hookups, his fucks, and dumps, but with Y/N around, he didn't feel the need for any of that, he was happy and content.

"Babe, that's all you. You're everything to me," she spoke as her cheeks blushed, a calm and happy smile on her lips as her heart raced with nothing but love and adoration.

Everything was going perfectly, they walked for a couple of minutes until Grayson tripped, earning them a trip to the ER.

According to him, the ice moved when it saw him, "Gray, please it's okay. I had all the fun I needed," Y/N reassured an upset and pouting Grayson, who felt bad for ruining her little getaway.

"But still, we should've been-," he began to apologize before she cut him off by placing her hand over his mouth.

"Grayson no. Your ankle is more important to me than some Christmas lights," she replied, handing him a bottle of water, and holding his hands, "I love you,"  

"I love you more," he replied, bringing her hand up to his lips, placing a quick kiss on it. 

“Plus, this is fun! We get to have a little sleepover, sounds fun right?” She asked, trying to make the best of the tragic situation. 

“Everything’s fun when I’m with you,” he replied with a smile as she shook her head blushing. 

“We could watch some movies, I can go buy some food and come back. I think I saw a pastry shop on the way here,” she spoke with a smile, letting go of Grayson’s hand to grab her purse, “I’m gonna look around and see what I find, okay? Don’t do anything stupid,” 

“I won't. Be careful, yeah? And call me when you get there, please,” he spoke before she leaned down, giving him a quick kiss before walking away. 

“I promise, see you later,”

It took Y/N, five minutes to find the pastry shop, and around 30 minutes to find what she needed for her spontaneous sleepover with Grayson. Y/N being Y/N obviously got carried away and spent more than an hour as an anxious Grayson laid hopelessly on a hospital bed, his nerves suddenly waving off as his precious angel walked through the door with her arms full with a couple of bags. 

“I’m back! Now, scoot over and I’ll show you what I bought,” 

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 09

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Word Count: 4.2k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: A Christmas present for you all! This has been my favourite chapter of Flower so far so I hope you all enjoy it too! Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think in a comment or ask!

; Flower Masterpost

-

The knock on your front door causes you to pause, clothes in your hand as you put them into your washing machine. You’d been frantically cleaning for the last hour, tidying up your already clean apartment to make sure that it all looked good. When you’d run out of stuff to clean, you’d resorted to washing your clothes early. 

Just for something to do while you waited.

But now he’s here. Hoseok is here. At your apartment, for the first time. You’d been to his a few times now but he’d never been to yours. That had been your fault because you simply just hadn’t invited him. It hadn’t entered your head to do that. Not until Chungha got exasperated and pointed out that perhaps he’d like to see where you lived too.

She must have been right because Hoseok had eagerly accepted and so here you were. You’d finished work an hour and a half ago, the time spent since waiting for him to finish and head home to grab his stuff before coming to yours had given you plenty of time to fulminate.

Not only was Hoseok coming over to yours for the first time...but he was going to spend the night. He’d come up with a plan to drive you both to an amusement park a few hours away tomorrow, but it required getting up pretty early. As a result, you’d just blurted out that he could stay with you.

You could tell that he’d been a little shocked at your proposition, not because you were suggesting he stay but because it was you who was suggesting it. He probably hadn’t expected you to propose that for a while yet.

Especially not when you had plans to let him sleep in bed with you too. You’d discussed it with Chungha and Soyeon in depth, wondering whether you should make him sleep out on the couch for the night. They’d been adamant that you couldn’t do that given you were dating, and you’d been together for two months so why not just let him sleep next to you?

If he remained as polite as he’d been, he wouldn’t be putting any moves on you. 

The easy way you’d said yes to it and suggested it to him told you, and everyone else who knew you, that you really wanted him to stay over. To sleep next to you. Honestly, it had one of your fantasies. Alongside the sexual ones, sometimes you just thought about him holding you in bed, cuddling with him.

Tonight you were going to get to experience that.

Quickly putting the rest of your clothes into the machine, you pause for a moment as you wonder if it’s stupid of you to be washing your clothes. But you push the thought of the way as you add powder and detergent before turning it on. A final glance around your small apartment lets you see that everything is as clean as it’s going to get and you take in a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt.

Opening the door slowly, you smile at Hoseok as he stands there waiting, a backpack over his shoulder and a bright smile on his own face. “Hi...err...sorry, I was putting my washing on. For some reason. Err...come in.”

He laughs softly as he enters, toeing off his shoes and carefully placing them on the rack you have set up next to the door without even being asked to. Moving forward through the tiny hall, you gesture to the living room and attached kitchen with a nervous movement.

“Errm so...this is the living room, obviously. And the kitchen. The door you just passed is the bathroom and the other door is my bedroom. It’s not very big,” You feel yourself heat up in embarrassment as your hands twist together. “I mean...I can still barely afford it but it’s home at least.”

Hoseok looks around slowly, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the decor of the place. You weren’t allowed to put things on the wall so the only decorations were on the bookcase in the corner, your television stand, your couch, the coffee table and the drawers next to the bookcase. Looking around, you take it in the same way he does.

A fluffy throw in slate grey is draped over the couch, covering both the back and the seat cushions while an array of interesting cushions and plushies cover it. Your Pusheen plush sits in pride of place but there’s also a bao bun with a smiley face, an overly cartoony calico cat stretched out along the back and a Jack Skellington face on the couch as well. 

Other plushies dot the room as well, from the set of Pokémon on the bookcase which included all the Eeveelutions you’d carefully collected over the years and various Pokéball’s to random cute ones and even a Pac-Man. Amongst all of that, was other stuff you’d collected; a range of animal shaped hand creams, a bunch of tiny Harry Potter chibi snow globes, some Funko POP figures featuring Disney characters along with a Totoro clock.

Random lights were currently turned on around the room including the PlayStation logo light, the Mario Mushroom light and a Yoshi egg. Part of you cringed as you took in how...colourful and pretty everything was compared to Hoseok. It looked so...delicate next to him.

He was stood there in black ripped jeans with a Guns n Roses shirt on, his tattoos the only thing that matched the room really. And yet he didn’t look disgusted by it, instead he just looked fascinated. Moving forward, he looked over the various books, Blu-Ray’s and video games you’d collected over the years along with the tiny Totoro figures that almost made up a little set.

“Oh my god...this is literally you in a room.” He marvelled, eyes wide as he took in the light shade that covered the light bulb hanging in the room. It was simple, just a curved circle but it was navy blue with tiny circles cut into little rockets and planets. When you turned it on, which was rarely, it made the room light up with a space theme.

“Err...yeah...I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot.” You apologise, rubbing at your forearm as you feel the swirl of negative feelings within you start to bubble. Already you’re regretting letting him into your home, into your safe space. This was where you felt most comfortable, where you felt happy. You only let people in that you trusted, and after two months you were pretty sure you could.

But it was still overwhelming, letting someone into the very private part of you and letting them see what made you happy.

“Don’t apologise, this is great. You’ve seen my place, it’s barren compared to this. I like it. It’s nice. Feels...cosy.” Hoseok said with a bright grin, white teeth flashing as you glanced at you before looking into your kitchen with eager curiosity.

The cuteness extends into there too, sweet woodland themed animal print oven gloves draped over the oven handle while a whole array of cute magnets cover the fridge along with pictures and important notices. A Totoro egg timer sits next to a little polka dot flower pot on the window sill while a cat themed calendar is propped up on the microwave.

A soft meow combined with pressure on his lower legs causes Hoseok to jump slightly, looking down before he grins even bigger. “Oh hello there! You must be Kasumi! Your mommy has told me so much about you.” He croons in a high pitched voice, the kind people only use on babies or animals.

But you can see the delight in his eyes as she sits in front of him, her cream fluffy coat combining with her dark paws and ears alongside astonishingly azure eyes to make her look like the prettiest cat ever. You were pretty sure that she was a ragdoll cat, which meant it was even more shocking that you’d found her in a shelter as a kitten. 

She observes Hoseok for a moment longer before meowing sweetly at him, pushing up to butt his hand with her head and he coos as he crouches down, stroking and talking absolute nonsense to her. You get the sense that he’s just fallen in love at first sight with your cat, the smile on his face bigger than anything you’d seen as she flops to the floor, belly presented and batting at his hand playfully.

“I’m gonna steal your cat.” He teases, looking up at you with playful eyes and you snort, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Over my dead body. She loves me anyway, right Kasumi?” At her name, her ears twitch and she looks at you upside down, letting out a soft mewl as her loud purrs reach you. You grin and crouch down, arms open as you make kissing noises to her and she immediately jumps up, rushing over to you. Standing back up with her in your arms, you smile smugly at Hoseok and wonder why on earth you’re suddenly competing with him over the affection of your own cat.

It looks like the thought runs through his head as well as he shakes it before walking over to you, dropping his backpack past you onto the couch before he places his hands on your waist. Leaning close, you feel your shoulders rising at his attention and he chuckles quietly.

“I guess I’ve got some competition then, huh?” He murmurs before kissing you, the gesture ever so gentle. It’s nothing intense, yet it fires you up in ways you’d never really considered before. Here, in your home, with your cat in your arms and your boyfriend kissing you, you feel happier than you can remember in recent memory. It feels...almost normal.

Hoseok pulls away quickly, smiling as he looks you up and down with a raised brow. “Can I go change if you’re in your pyjamas already?”

His tone is ever so slightly teasing and you look away, pressing your face into Kasumi’s soft fur to avoid the embarrassment.

“Yeah...sorry. I don’t...I don’t see the point in wasting clothes when I’m at home. Pyjamas or die you know?” He snorts in response, kissing your cheek before grabbing his backpack again.

“I get it, I’ll be back in a minute.”

-

It turns out that Hoseok’s pyjamas are just...his normal lounge clothes apparently. A pair of plain black sweatpants is combined with an overly large Star Wars shirt, a few holes in both items that cause you to raise a brow in amusement. A far cry from the matching set of pyjamas you’re wearing; a set of Marauder's Map leggings combined with a black shirt and a gold Hogwarts crest.

“You can tell our personalities just from what we’re wearing.” He looks up from his phone, brows raised before looking between you both with a lopsided smile. Without a word, he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him tightly.

Body stiffening automatically without you even meaning, you force yourself to relax in his embrace. You still weren’t used to the open affection Hoseok lavished on you, the casual touches of his not normal enough for you to accept openly like you did with your friends and family. But you were getting there.

You just wished that you could extend the open affection to him in the same way. It was hard though, you weren’t naturally open to physical gestures like that. Normally you just accepted them, but you wanted to discover to be open with him.

Because as you melted into his arms, you realised that you really liked this.

“What are you trying to say, huh? That I’m ratty and old while you’re young and put together?” He teases, squeezing tightly while rocking you from side to side, putting just enough pressure that you have to stagger back as you giggle against his chest.

“No! I mean...you are older than me…” 

“Excuse you! I’m only two years older than you! Hardly Hugh Hefner here.” Hoseok protests, his voice loud but you can hear the playfulness in it. It makes you happy to hear that, knowing that he’s going along with you.

“You’re right...you don’t have as much money as him. I’m missing out.” At that, he leans back enough for you to see his face, his jaw dropped while he tries to stop a smile from spreading. It causes you to grin in response, squeezing him tightly in response before you press your face back to his chest. “It’s okay though, you’re pretty.”

“Wow...okay. Does that make me the Playboy Bunny in this situation?” You snort, hands lowering without even meaning to and making him jerk in surprise as you squeeze his ass without even thinking. The very ass that your friends had teased you about weeks ago.

“How do you look with bunny ears and a tail?” 

He moves away at that, eyeing you suspiciously as he bites his lower lip, the flesh disappearing between his teeth. “Let’s never find out, shall we?”

“Awww. There’s people who find that kinky. They get dressed up as animals and stuff. Sometimes it’s just...they just wanna dress up but sometimes they dress up and it’s like...they wanna have sex in those suits.” Hoseok just stares at you in disgust, looking away before nodding slowly.

“Sounds great. I’m never doing that. Just want you to know,” he pauses, looking up at the ceiling before cringing and shrugging. You’re suddenly reminded of that woman trying alcohol meme as he makes a considering face. “Okay maybe I’d try it once if you were into it but I don’t think it’s for me.”

You steadfastly avoid his face at that, body heating rapidly at the thought of him thinking about having sex with you knew he probably had. If you were thinking that way about him, then there was no one way someone like him wasn’t thinking that way too. And it was a very strange sensation to know that he wanted you like that.

So you just gestured to the couch, watching as he sits down and scoops Kasumi into his lap. A quick phone call gets you food ordered from your favourite Chinese place, Hoseok stating his preferences to you as he flicks through Netflix and strokes the fluff ball he’s holding.

The next few hours pass by in a food coma bliss of delicious food combined with both of you starting a show on Amazon instead called The Boys. It had surprised you both with how violent and gory it was yet you enjoyed it thoroughly, much to Hoseok’s amusement. Maybe he thought your love of cute things meant that you didn’t like that kind of stuff but you enjoyed it just as much.

You both made it through three episodes before you found yourself getting tired, it was nearing 11pm and as lame as it made you sound...you were someone who went to sleep a bit earlier than that. It amused Hoseok when your head started to loll onto his shoulder, the pleasant warmth and comfort of his body as you cuddled up together lulling you into drowsiness.

Which was why when the episode finally ended, he stood up and gently pulled you up as well. “Come on sleepy, I think it’s time for bed. Sometime’s tired.” He was using that voice that he’d used on Kasumi earlier, and part of you wanted to protest it but you were too drowsy to bother. So instead, you went around the room after shaking his hands off to turn off all the lights.

Hoseok went to the bathroom while you did that, telling you that he was just going to go to the toilet and brush his teeth. By the time you had finished cleaning everything up and throwing the empty Chinese cartons away, he was standing a little awkwardly outside your bedroom.

Smiling, you opened the door and let him in. “You can go in.”

He gave a little smile before heading in and pausing as he looked around once more. Your room was barely big enough for the double bed in it, one side pressed up against the wall while a bedside table rested next to it. A wardrobe was next to that and a chest of drawers along with a mirror. 

“Err...sorry...it’s a little cramped.” You say quietly, rubbing your arms nervously once more and he just shakes his head at you with a small sigh that sounds more amused than you’d expected.

“You need to stop apologising for everything. It’s fine, honestly. Don’t stress yourself over it.” He heads over to the bed and looked down at it, teeth clanking against his lip ring as it looked down. “I’m gonna guess that you sleep on this side?” 

Pointing at the side closest to the bedside table, you go to nod before realise he’s being rhetorical. It was blatantly obvious which side you slept on, given the other side was covered in a large array of plushies. From more Pokémon to a Star Wars teddy, Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon, a cute cat face, a fluffy llama and so much more. 

The side Hoseok would be sleeping on was covered in them and you cover your face in dual embarrassment and horror, realising that you’d blatantly forgotten to clean it off for him. “Err...yeah. You can just...put them on the floor or something. Sorry, I mean…” 

You cut yourself off from apologising again at his look but he just smiles and shrugs. “It’s okay, I’ll sort it out.”

Quickly, you leave the room to prevent any further embarrassment for you. Sometimes you really wondered why Hoseok stayed with you given how different you both obviously were. The thought made your chest hurt and you pressed as it, frowning as you did your own nightly routine. It took a little longer than Hoseok’s as you had a whole skincare routine to go through and so ten minutes later you walked back in with a face mask on.

He was lying on his back, pillows propped up behind him as he looked through his phone and you noted with amusement the little ice cream plush that was still situated next to him. In fact...he made the most bizarre image laid there.

Your bedding was white, with tiny rainbows ending in clouds interspersed with yellow stars and little cartoons unicorns and pegasus that jumped and frolicked. You liked your bedding to look as cute as everything else, only it looked childish with him in it now.

His tattoos look at complete odds with it all, dark hair pushed back and making him look even hotter than ever with it all messed up. He looked dark and brooding in your bed, anathema to your bedding and it was both adorable and bizarrely attractive. 

A sudden thought rushes through your head that one day, if everything goes right, you’ll be having sex with him in that bed. Cheeks heating, you quickly rush forward and sit on the bed carefully, plugging your phone into the charger before looking back over at him.

“Do you need your phone charging too? I have another cable and plug.” You offer and he lets out a noise, head turning towards you before his eyes finally pull away. When he finally notices your face, he jerks away in shock before his face contorts and he squints at you.

“The fuck is on your face? Are you cosplaying Michael Myers or something?” Hoseok mutters, leaning forward a bit and looking you over. You try not to laugh, not wanting the face mask to move and you push at his face lightly.

“Don’t make me laugh, you’ll ruin it. It’s just a face mask, my night routine.” Laying back on the bed, he pulls a face at you.

“You do that every night? Isn’t it tiring?” You shake your head, checking in your Twitter feed as you wait for the time to pass until you can take it off again. “Is that why your skin always looks so pretty? Or is that makeup?”

“Hoseok! I haven’t worn makeup the last three times we’ve met up. You haven’t noticed between that and makeup?” He just stares at you for a moment before shrugging, his hand suddenly running along your back in slow and steady movements. It feels like electricity moves through your body as he does so, but you can’t tell any sexual intention behind it.

“I feel like no matter what I say here...I’m going to get myself in trouble. So...I will be smart and say that you look beautiful with and without makeup.” His smile is boylike then, making his entire face look far younger than he actually is and you sighed softly in defeat, shaking your head before checking the clock on your bedside table. “Why does your clock look like that?”

You pull off the face mask and throw it into the small trash can underneath the table, gently patting at your face to get the excess moisture to absorb. Glancing at the clock, you note it’s unusual shape and size while the orange numbers glow.

“It’s one of those clocks that simulate sunrise to help make it easier to wake up in the morning. I struggle with feeling tired and in winter I never want to get up. Err...I tend to get a little...or a lot...depressed with it. So I got this because daylight is meant to make you happier so ten minutes before my alarm goes off, it starts to light up and simulate a sunrise. It works pretty well in fairness.” You finish, rubbing your cheeks before grabbing the next step of your routine.

“Really? Huh. Cool.” He hands you his phone once you’ve finished, turning onto his side watching you intently. The attention makes you feel warm inside and finally you’re ready to go to bed, lifting the covers and cautiously sliding in next to him. It feels warm and comfortable as usual, your pillow and bedding maximised for comfort.

Reaching over, you turn off the lamp, leaving you both in darkness. The room feels oppressively silent at that moment before you realise that you can hear his breathing next to you. Suddenly, you feel hyper aware of his every movement and sound, your own body stiff beneath the covers.

A few minutes pass by like that, you unsure what to do now and too tense to sleep even after feeling so drowsy earlier. And then suddenly Hoseok reaches out, his hand resting on your stomach tentatively before stroking gently when you don’t react.

“You’re so tense.” He laughs softly and you feel the need to apologise again. But you hold it back, knowing that you have no reason to apologise. Hoseok knows by now what you’re like, he’s aware of your shy and awkward nature and he must know how out of your comfort zone you’re feeling right now.

Which is why you appreciate how slow he moves, his hand spreading heat through your stomach as his slow movements lead you to relaxing ever so slightly. He keeps doing it, his breathing just as hypnotising and you find your eyelids fluttering shut as the earlier drowsiness comes back.

“Can you turn over? On your side?” Hoseok asks softly, hand pausing and it takes a few seconds for you to acknowledge what he’d said. But you do so, shifting lazily until your back is facing him and your head is pressed comfortably into the pillow with your hand slotted beneath both pillows.

And then carefully shuffles up behind you, a warm and heavy weight sliding around your waist as he wraps an arm around you. Pulling slightly, he tugs you into a more comfortable position and you’re suddenly wide awake again. Even though you’ve been cuddled up with him before on a couch, it’s somehow completely different now that you’re lying together in bed.

Every bit of his front presses to your back and you’ve never been so aware of someone else. He feels like a furnace behind you, though you’re not sure if that’s because he actually is warm or if it’s because your body is burning hot. But you like it, as nervous as it makes you feel.

Your limbs feel like you could go outside and run a marathon yet the idea of leaving the bed is so far beyond you. His warm breath gently puffs against your neck as he settles a little more and you swallow hard, forcing your body to relax as you get used to the feeling. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept next to someone, and you’d never felt comfortable with them.

But you do with him. You do with Hoseok.

And without even realising it, your wandering mind begins to drift off as you lay there comfortably, feeling safe and content about everything. 

[artificialqueens]

My Tiny Little World is in Your Hands (Gottmik/Max Malanaphy) - Caseyfinn

A/N: i know this is a REALLY rare pair, but i thought the dynamic would be interesting! lyrics and title from snow globe by waterparks

read on ao3

–

Good morning, why’d you wake me? When I haven’t slept much lately I was having that same old dream again The one that finally took my head and win

Mik’s fingers intertwine with Max’s, her hand warm and soft and comforting. Her dark hair frames her face, contrasting her bright blue eyes perfectly.

“You look beautiful, Max,” she says, smiling. Max begins to return the compliment before she’s silenced by Mik’s lips against hers, the words lost between their teeth.

“You’re my everything,” Mik whispers. 

And then Max wakes up, and she’s nothing again. Nothing to Mik, nothing to anyone.

‘Cause all I hear is, “I love you so much” But it starts to mean nothing When my heart is shut from you My heart is shut from you

“Max! I love your shirt today!” Mik calls as she walks down the hallway. ”It’s so gorge!”

Fireworks explode inside Max’s chest. “Oh! Thank you.” 

Mik flashes her a smile, and for a moment Max feels special.

“Stunning skirt, Jan!” Mik says to another girl, smiling at her.

And then Max is nothing again.

I wrote down the soundtrack of giving up And the songs go like this on my Greatest Hits Oh-oh, oh, it’s love, yeah

Max found her pencil drifting to the margins of her paper, sketching waves of dark hair and the edge of a pale jawline. She realized what she was doing and scribbled over it, attempting to focus on the song she was writing.

Stars… I don’t know, something about stars. Something about freckles and stars.

Frustrated, she crumpled the page up and tossed in across the room to her trash can. It bounced off the rim and rolled across the carpet. 

Her mind drifted, again, to Mik. 

Freckles and stars, she thought.

7 p.m., let it sink in I’ve been living dark in the back of the deep end Now it’s 3 a.m., everybody goes home alone Shake me up and watch me in my

Max doesn’t like parties, never did. People call her a prude, and yeah, maybe she is. So what? Parties are loud, chaotic, dirty. Nobody in their right mind would want to spend their night in a darkened living room with a sticky carpet and every corner occupied by a stranger making out with a stranger.

So why was she here?

She caught a glimpse of Mik’s dark hair through a pair of dancing couples. Right, yeah, that’s why.

She had almost gotten up the courage to go say hi when she saw Mik’s lips connect with those of a pink-haired girl, looping her arms around her neck and pulling her closer. 

7 p.m., let it sink in I’ve been living dark in thе back of the deep end Now it’s 3 a.m., evеrybody goes home alone Shake me up and watch me in my snow globe

Max weaved through the crowd, ignoring the elbows that bumped her and the beer that sloshed on her hand.

I shouldn’t have even bothered to show up.

Her heels clicked along the pavement as she walked home, the cold wind drying the tears on her cheeks and tangling her gray hair.

She tilted her face to the dark sky and noticed that the stars looked an awful lot like the faint freckles on Mik’s nose.

In the daytime, I get to debate myself And quiet all the evil things I say like: “Everybody hates you”, “People miss the old you” “They hate everything that they all changed you into”

People in the hall looked at her strangely. Her gray hair, her light accent, her fascination with older times, her dislike of anything overly sexual. 

At least she had Trixie to draw attention away from her, but that didn’t get rid of all the stares.

Mik noticed this, noticed the way she clung to the walls and sat in the back of the classrooms, so she always made sure to compliment Max’s outfit or hair each morning.

Max wondered if she noticed the way it affected her.

I’ve been dead since 2016 So good morning, can you fix me? My tiny little world is in your hands So shake it like a snow globe, fuck my plans

Mik had Max wrapped around her finger and didn’t even notice, perhaps didn’t even care.

Mik was everything. She had Max in the palm of her hand, could lift her up or discard her within a moment, with a single glance, and she didn’t even care.

'Cause all I hear is, “I love you so much” But it starts to mean nothing When my heart is shut from you My heart is shut from you

Max stopped listening to the compliments, stopped listening a while ago. She says those things to everyone. Max was nothing special, she never was.

But Mik was dazzling and dizzying and ethereal and her words meant everything, even when Max tried to pretend they didn’t. 

My tiny little world is in your hands So shake it like a snow globe, fuck my plans for good For good

Max resigned herself to this; this hollow shell of a life, living off fleeting brilliant smiles and blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

She didn’t want to think about what would happen when they graduated, when Mik moved far away to pursue a career in fashion, while Max stayed here, always here.

She didn’t think about that.

7 p.m., let it sink in I’ve been living dark in the back of the deep end Now it’s 3 a.m., everybody goes home alone Shake me up and watch me in my

It was late. Max was always the type to get homework done fast and go to bed early, but tonight there was too much on her mind. Fragments of thoughts swirling around and embedding themselves in places they shouldn’t be, like shards of sharp glass.

And so, tonight, she took a walk down her street, admiring the constellations and pretending they didn’t remind her of something.

7 p.m., let it sink in I’ve been living dark in the back of the deep end Now it’s 3 a.m., everybody goes home alone Shake me up and watch me in my snow globe

Her thoughts began to calm the longer she walked, the staccato of her feet hitting the concrete grounding her in the present. The glass thoughts broke, and broke again, until they were incoherent sparkling dust.

At least until she passed a car and did a double take as she recognized that shade of brunette.

Mik straddled a pink-haired girl in the front seat, their lips locked in a slow, sweet kiss, interrupted only by smiles and whispers and soft touches, their bodies fitting together perfectly, so perfectly.

Max froze, and watched, perhaps a little too long, until she abruptly turned and ran back to her house, the staccato of her feet against the concrete stirring up the glass dust into sharper and sharper shards.

In the daytime, I get to debate myself And quiet all the evil things I say like: “Everybody hates you”, “People miss the old you” “They hate everything that they all changed you into”

Maybe she needed to move on, maybe it was time to accept reality; accept that Mik wasn’t hers, would never be hers.

But the next morning, when Mik stopped by her in the hallway and told her that her nail polish color matched her eyes perfectly, and Max bit her tongue to avoid saying “I hope you’d notice,” she fell for the perfect brunette again, and decided that maybe this hollow shell of a life was all she needed.

–

[blu-joons]

Exposure. Jeon Jungkook

Part Two

OVERVIEW: Being the little secret of a member of the world’s biggest boy band was never going to be easy. WIth all the hiding around and tiptoeing, it only seemed to be a matter of time until you got caught out, but when you are, how will that affect your relationship with the man who had given you it all?

PART: i ii

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.4k words

——————————

“The boys really are so excited to see you, they’ve been pestering me to bring you to the studio since we got back,” the blue-eyed blue told you as he drove down the road. The small crack in the window blew his fringe back in the breeze bringing a smile to your face, the roads were quite, allowing your ears to be filled the mellow tunes of one of his new playlists he’d created whilst he’d been on tour. “They don’t know you’re coming, so hopefully it will be a nice surprise for them.”

“I’d be a bit disappointed if they weren’t happy to see me,” you chuckled, pointing out to the road, turning his eyes away from yours, earning a cheeky giggle from him.

The studio wasn’t too far away, conversation was minimal, instead the two of you chose to enjoy the sounds of the music and tune in to the outside world through the gaps in the windows. He parked in his usual spot, looking around at all the cars that were outside. “Looks like we’re just waiting on Jimin.”

“There’s a surprise,” you chimed, stepping out of the car, grabbing your handbag from the backseat.

“I’m sure Namjoon will give him a talking to,” he informed you, slipping his hand into yours as you walked into the building. The three security guards who stood at the foot of the building offered you both a warming smile as you walked across, his hand moved to the small of your back guiding you into the building, following closely behind you, shutting the entrance door.

The noise of all the boys quickly hit you, it was as if they hadn’t spent the past few months on tour, everything you knew fell back into palace. Takeaway boxes could be found trailed along the corridor, jumpers and hoodies had been discarded wherever they pleased, not to mention the several mugs of coffee that had been forgotten about during different moments.

“It’s a good job no one important is coming to visit,” you teased, pointing out all the bits of rubbish your eyes instantly fell on. He sighed, shrugging innocently to it all, if you knew he was responsible for most of it, you’d never let him live it down.

“I think the boys would argue you that you are very important, as would I,” he responded, kissing the side of your face.

Your eyes rolled at his cheeky grin, brushing your hand along the side of his face, before pulling him down so he was level with you. “I know you’re responsible for this,” you assured him, shaking your head at him.

He pouted down at you, leading you down the corridor across to the rehearsal room where the five boys, who’d managed to arrive on time were sat. Each of them was on the floor, everyone had a coffee in front of them, except for Taehyung who wisely decided just to drink from his water bottle. You pushed the door open, watching as they all looked around, smiling wide when they saw the two of you walk in together.

“Y/N!”

You thought Jungkook was exaggerating when he told you the boys would be excited to see you, but when arms quickly flew around your frame pulling you into a tight hug, you knew how serious he truly was. “Guys, I need to breathe, please.”

Jungkook’s hand came across, grabbing their shoulders, one by one pulling them away from you, smirking as you adjusted your outfit and hair from the mess they’d caused. All of them possessed sheepish grins when you turned to face them.

“It’s so nice to see you, we all missed you whilst we were on tour,” Hobi was the first to speak, clapping his hands together in excitement, skipping around you.

Namjoon chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand, “what he means to say is that we missed having you look after us, you’re the rightful mother of BTS after all.

“I’m sure you all managed just fine without me,” you smiled, giggling when they all shook their heads. Despite being in a relationship with their maknae, you were just like a mum to the rest of them. You cooked them meals, kept the place tidy, hence the state it was in without you around, and made sure they were well looked after. “Except, who do I need to have a word with about the current mess in that hallway?”

Fingers were pointed everywhere along with shrieks of protests claiming innocence towards you, no one wanted to admit the fault and face your wrath of fury. You smirked at them all, they all argued you had Jungkook whipped, but you definitely had all of them wrapped around your finger most days.

You sat down with them all, being passed a water bottle from Jungkook off the side, “we’ve got loads of things to show you from our travels, if you’re interested?”

You nodded, opting to sit yourself in between his legs, resting back against his hard chest, “we can’t do anything yet, Jimin isn’t here,” you reminded them, hearing them all sigh.

“I doubt he’ll be here for some time, since tour, he’s been late every day,” Namjoon told you, grabbing a couple of boxes from one of the cupboards on the left wall of the studio.

Each of them began to take out items that were important to them, Namjoon had bought small ornaments from every place they visited to place on his shelf, Hobi had several garments from markets and stores they’d visited on their days off, whilst Taehyung had lots of hats, flipping between several of them to show you precisely how they looked. Whilst Taehyung gave you a catwalk, Jin was happy to show you all the games he’d found from different places that he was excited to try, followed by Yoongi who had exhausted most shops for equipment to place in his studio, as he argued, small gifts were just meaningless in years to come.

Finally, you looked to Jungkook who pulled out a box filled with lots of random pieces, he had a flag from America, a snow globe from France, a magnet from Australia, as well as several statues and glass ornaments that he’d found along the way.

“Everywhere we went, I picked up something that reminded me of you,” he told you, passing you a glass angel ornament he’d purchased on the New Zealand leg of the tour.

“This is beautiful Kook; what do you think you’ll do with it?”

He took it from you with a shaking hand, wrapping it back up, placing it in the box. Your eyes furrowed in confusion, watching him do the same with everything that he’d bought. “I’m going to wrap them back up and keep them safe, just like how I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiled, leaning across to press a kiss to your cheek, “they’re far too important to risk breaking them, I want to keep them perfect.”

Around the room humorous gags came from the rest of the boys at Jungkook’s sweet comments. He looked around, but you pulled him back so that he was looking at you, “they’re just jealous.”

The box was repacked and placed safely away by Yoongi, just as the door opened, and an exhausted Jimin came flying through the door. His cheeks made it seem like he’d ran a marathon, his hair was a mess, but his smile still remained, just like it always did, widening only when he saw you sat with Jungkook’s arms firmly around you.

“What time do you call this? I’ve been sat around here for hours waiting for you to arrive,” you teased, standing up so that you could greet him with a proper hug.

He squeezed you tightly, apologising for the state he was in, glancing into the mirror of the studio, adjusting the blonde strands of hair so that they suited his face perfectly. He dropped his bag, absentmindedly listening to the scolding from Namjoon that Jungkook had so wisely predicted when the two of you were still in the car park.

With all the boys at last in the studio, they could begin to start their rehearsals. It quickly surprised you how after the conclusion of one tour their minds were so focussed on what was to come next. You sat down on one of the chairs that was around the circumference of the room whilst Hobi led them all in a warmup.

“Y/N, do you reckon you could be in charge of music?” He asked, looking back at you in the reflection of the mirror. You perked up, looking across at him, nodding your head. “If you’ve got your phone with you, anything will do.”

You reached into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out your phone, opening up your music app. “I’ve got the perfect song for you all.”

They stood in anticipation and waited, only their excitement turned to dismay when they recognised the opening melody of Euphoria playing into the room.

Jungkook quickly ran over, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head, “you’re so good at this,” he smiled proudly, poking his tongue out at all the boys.

Yoongi ran over, snatching your phone to press the pause button on the track, much to the relief of all the other members. “We expected better than that from you, I can’t believe you’d make us listen to that rubbish.”

“I might be a little bias, but he is my boyfriend.”

None of them seemed to care as they abruptly stripped you of your audio duties, passing the baton onto Namjoon. You pouted as Jungkook walked away, shaking his head shamefully at them all for being so cruel to you.

“You’re supposed to all be happy to see you may I remind you,” you shouted out, folding your arms across your chest. It mattered to none of them as Namjoon played a new song, one that everyone liked, well, except for you of course.

Their rehearsal went by reasonably fast; they were still very much in the early stages of it all, squabbling about what moves to place when in their routines, and which song they would consider singing at which point of the show. Whilst they argued amongst themselves, you sat back with a wide smile on your face, it was these small interactions that you missed the most when they were all on tour. Neither of them had any idea they were doing it, but perhaps that was what made them so cohesive and popular to so many people.

In the middle of their routine, the door opened once more, all of them paid no attention, except for you, smiling weakly when Bang PD walked in, huffing when he saw you sat on the chair, scrolling through your phone.

He walked in the opposite direction to where you sat, leaning on the back of the wall until the boys finished the song, breaking off for a drink.

“We weren’t expecting to see you today,” Jin spoke when he realised who else was stood in the door. In his hand he had a few pieces of paper, gripping onto them tightly until his fingers were white.

In your gut you could feel something wasn’t right, he’d never been completely immersed in your relationship like everyone else had been, but that never stopped him at least greeting you whenever you were around. Jungkook walked over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder as the boys all sat around you, drinking heavily from their water bottles.

Your eyes stared up at Jungkook who looked across at you with a weak smile brushing his hands through your hair, “why are you looking so nervous?”

“I don’t know, something just doesn’t feel great about all of this, I- “

You were interrupted by Bang PD clearing his throat, making everyone look across at him, his eyes were firmly exchanging stares at both you and Jungkook. All of the boys could tell straight away too that something was going on to do with the two of you, only no one had a clue what it all was about.

“Tell me Jungkook, when you came home from tour, where did you go?” He asked firmly.

Jungkook looked down at you, pointing towards you, “I went to see Y/N, like I always do when we come home from somewhere. Don’t worry, I was really careful and aware of my surroundings, I’ve become quite the master of sneaking around Y/N’s estate.”

A sinister chuckle escaped from his manager, leaving the two of you puzzled. He knew exactly how to get to your home, he’d always park as close as he could, wear dark clothes so that he didn’t stand out as much, and keep a hat on his head, and sunglasses on the bridge of his nose until their was a roof over his head.

He walked over to the two of you, handing you the paper he’d been holding, “if the two of you are so confident of being able to make all of this work, then how about you talk me through this.”

You turned over the printout that he gave you, studying it closely, to begin with you recognised his car, and then a few features of your street, and then focussed on the two people in the photo. One you were able to work out was you, leaving the other figure to be Jungkook by process of elimination.

Then your eyes fell on what was happening between you both, you remembered the evening clear as day, Jungkook told you to come down and say goodbye to him at the car, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did so.

“I-I don’t understand, we were careful,” he stuttered, looking across at everyone.

The disappointed look on everyone’s face was heart-breaking, all of them had been so trusting of the two of you to make things work, you had done for such a long time, but one lapse of judgement had ruined it all.

“I’ve now got several media outlets demanding to know what’s going on, they want to know why the nation’s sweetheart has been photographed kissing a random girl in the middle of a street.”

“I can fix this, I promise,” he tried to assure everyone, but they all quickly looked away.

“The two of you need to fix this now, you’ve been exposed, so tell me, how do you plan on fixing this?”

---

Masterlist

[girlofmanyfandoms]

We All Have Storms

A/n: So I finally finished it, and I tried to work on my imagery, sorry that it sucks! My Marellinh fic is next, so bully me into finishing that, mkay, enjoy!

Word count: 3794

Trigger Warnings: Brief homophobia scene

Warnings: some of my editing was deleted, so if it says ditto bug in there somewhere, I forgot to delete it

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty  @linhamon-roll @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhamon2 @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz

“Thanks again for coming over, Keefe,” Fitz called over his shoulder as he lugged a bin onto the carpet in between them.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“Are you kidding, Fitzy?” Keefe started emptying out its contents, seeming particularly interested in the box of Prattles pins. “This is a trip down memory lane. And besides, I could hardly miss the preparation for my best friend’s Winnowing Gala.”

“Ugh, how do you say that so casually? I feel like the weight of the world’s on my shoulders. That name is taboo.”

Keefe sighed. He didn’t really want to talk about the upcoming event - it made him uncomfortable and feel wrong in so many ways. He was in a battle between being proudly there for his friend and yelling for him to call it off. But there was no way around it.

“Tell me something. Do you feel like the weight of the world’s on your shoulders? Or the weight of the Vacker Legacy?”

Fitz pulled out a snow globe that he got as a souvenir from Tokyo and shook it aggressively. “Ok, that’s another phrase on the Not To Be Spoken List.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Fitz sighed loudly and threw his hands in the air in frustration. Keefe caught the snow globe with one hand and shoved the bin the the side, scooting closer to him.

“I-I’m s-sorry, that wasn’t directed towards you, I-“

Keefe pressed a finger to Fitz’s lips, making him turn bright red. Keefe noticed and smirked a bit, but he told his inner voice to shut up. Don’t get your hopes up, Keefe. “Yeah, I know. I get it, dude, way more than you think. You don’t want to live your life being pressured to confine yourself to a perfect preppy boy who marries someone at the top of his match list so that he can gain the approval of family members and make a power baby. You don’t want your name to define you, so you try to let out your pain and your fears however you can.”

Fitz was stunned at how perfectly he had described his situation, and in such few words, yet he felt a pang of sympathy. “It must be difficult being a Sencen.”

“It must be stressful being a Vacker.”

“Now you’re avoiding the question.”

“You didn’t ask one.”

Fitz hesitated. Was he treading on dangerous grounds? Or was this just what a friend would do? “It was insinuated. I was asking what you’re struggling with in the Sencen family. And... if I can help.”

Keefe shook his head, dragging the bin back between them. “That’s not something you want to involve yourself with,” he huffed exhaustedly. “Nice rubix cube. Or at least I think that’s what Sophie called it.”

He solved it within seconds, but scrambled it again and repeated the process as Fitz watched in silence. Solved. Scrambled. Solved. Scrambled. Solved. Stopped.

Keefe raised an eyebrow. Fitz has moved closer and put his hands over Keefe’s. Neither could describe it, but all they knew was that it felt right. They met eyes for a moment, unable to move.

Why do I like this? Keefe thought to himself. I feel like we could stay like this all day. Meanwhile, all Fitz was thinking about was I hope he doesn’t hate me for getting so close, His hair really does good, and I hope my hands aren’t clammy, that would be embarrassing. Fitz pulled back abruptly and combed his hair back with his hands. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“You need to learn to stop apologizing for what isn’t your fault,” Keefe mentioned.

He laughed, relieved that the awkwardness had somewhat left the conversation. “I’ll do it when you do it.”

“No fair!” Keefe launched a pillow at him. 

Fitz was quick to grab one in defense, and soon, it was an all out war. 

It went on for a few minutes before Della peeked through the door.

“Boys, that’s no way to be on a day like this, you’re going to mess up your hair!”

“Sorry, Ms. Vacker,” Keefe said sweetly.

“Aw, you don’t need to apologize, Keefe. You’re a Vacker, too. Just make sure you two fix yourselves up.”

“But this is my signature hairstyle!”

“Then change into your other outfit and help Fitz. I’m getting Eda so she can help with the last minute preparations. You boys behave.” 

When Della walked off, Biana appeared behind her and rolled her eyes. “Boys.” But when Della has turned the corner she winked at them and ran off giggling.

Keefe tackled Fitz, and ended up straddling him. Fitz’s cheeks heated up and butterflies formed in his stomach as an alarm rang in his head, screaming This isn’t just a friends thing. He tried his best to ignore it, but the more he tried to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, the more he realized just how perfect and soft Keefe’s lips were. He gulped, hoping to distance himself from these thoughts. 

“Remember, Fitzy,” Keefe began, leaning in very close to his face. “Behave.”  

He whacked Fitz in the head with a pillow, grabbed his suit, and ran down the hall after Biana for some tips. Fitz was left shaking badly. Slowly, he sat himself up. 

“What a flirt,” he breathed, though quite out of breath. But there was no time for contemplation. One of the biggest events of his life was about to take place and he could not disappoint. He gave himself a few moments to steady his heart before taking his tailored outfit and stumbling into the bathroom. ————

Fitz groaned in annoyance for the umpteenth time that day.

“Y’know I can help you with that.”

Fitz squealed in surprise.

“Forgot I was around?”

Fitz seemed incapable of forming words, so he nodded.

“Come here,” Keefe gestured to him. “I learned how to tie a tie from Elwin, the trick is the make a huge, loose opening and swing this part over.”

Keefe finished tying it for him and patted his chest. “Done.”

“Thank you,” Fitz managed to say. He was sure Keefe was doing this on purpose now. 

And he was. Because some little part of him had hope.

———— “Want me to walk you down the aisle?” Keefe joked, knowing his friend needed a little less pressure and impending doom around him.

“Well, the crowd won’t allow you to walk out on the same time as me but...” Fitz trailed off. Was he really going to ask this?

“But what?”

“Can you hold my hand? At least until they open the curtains? I need to feel grounded.”

“Aw, I ground you? How sweet!” While his tone was teasing, his heart was jumping for joy.  

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I’ll do it,” Keefe blurted out a bit too fast. He cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t want you to feel alone on your big day.”

They interlocked fingers and Keefe felt like the floor was swaying beneath his feet. It couldn’t be. He had to be misinterpreting Fitz’s emotions. Was that joy? And happiness? And nervousness? It had to be because of the crowd chanting his name on the other side of the curtain. It had to be. 

But maybe it’s not, the voice called. Keefe pushes the thought to the side once more. He didn’t have a chance with Fitz. Boys don’t match with other boys, and there’s no way someone as kind and dorky and fun as Fitz would like a prankster artist with mommy and daddy issues. No way at all.

Keefe squeezed his hand. “You ready to go out there?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Let’s go then.” Keefe nodded to Dex, who was standing by the controls, ready to move. Dex nodded back, and deafening cheers erupted as Fitz, in his royal blue suit, came into view from beyond the real curtains. Keefe patted his back and slipped to the side to let him pass. Fitz flashed his pretty smile, masking the pain and fear. ————

“Evelyn Tanaka, I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Vacker.” The girl curtsied in front of him.

He offered a modest and seemingly genuine bow and smile. “You look lovely tonight, Ms. Tanaka.”

She swatted his arm playfully. “I’m sure you’ve told that to all the girls here.”

Fitz put his hand on his chest, playfully mocking taking offense to her comment. “Of course not, Ms. Tanaka. Us Vackers have morals, laws, and tastes. I would never be so rude as to reuse a compliment. I give them out the those who deserve it.”

Evelyn blushed and spun around so Fitz could get a full view of her dress and hair. “I take it that means that I’m to your taste?”

“Very much so. Care for a drink?” He extended his hand and she gladly accepted, earning plenty of jealous glares. Biana came to the rescue, jumping into conversation with the group of girls nearest to them and talking on and on about the latest fashion trends in Atlantis. Fitz sent her a grateful look, glad he would have a little more space to figure out what he was going to do.  

Evelyn was a nice girl, and clearly very kind and powerful. Endearing, even. But Fitz had his heart sent on a certain ineligible bachelor.

Keefe was watching from across the room, half heartedly flirting with some of the girls who had lost hope in winning Fitz over, just like him. They locked eyes, trying to communicate all the words they might never get to say. A frown turned to a scowl on Keefe’s face as he excused himself from the conversation and stormed outside into the utopia-like grounds. Fitz didn’t understand why when he realized that Evelyn had closed in, adjusting his tie.  

“I’m really sorry, Evelyn, my friend stepped out for a bit and he looked sick, I’m gonna go check on him. Save me a dance?”

“Of course!” Evelyn leaped for joy, and went to find a friend of hers to tell her of her supposed victory.

He rushed outside, fiddling with the ring box that his father had given him just in case he found the “right one.” It was so tempting to give it to Keefe, but with the amount of time it took to recognize his feelings, he wasn’t quite sure either of them were ready for such a big leap.

At last, he found Keefe, legs dangling from a sturdy tree branch. “Oh, you’re here,” he said coldly. His voice was almost apathetic.

Fitz’s eyes welled with tears, his mind a storm of emotions that he was sure Keefe could sense from the few feet that separated them. Fitz got a running start and climbed onto the branch beside his.

Keefe chanced a glance at him, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Fitz was silently crying, shoulders shaking, and gasping for air. Because of him. The angry facade slipped away and he climbed to the next branch to sit beside him and pull him into a side hug. Fitz leaned on his shoulders and took the tissue that Keefe offered. He cleaned his face up, but his eyes were still red and puffy, and he was sobbing without tears. 

Fitz reminisced about all the tragedies and battles they had fought in there years on this Earth, and yet nothing beat this. Keefe rocked him gently. “You ready to talk about it?”

He chuckled bitterly, but had take a gulp of air. “What is there to say?”

Keefe tugged slightly on the fairy lights in the tree and looked off into the distance, still rubbing circles onto his back consolingly. “A lot of things. Mainly us and.... where tonight is going?”

The hesitancy in his voice was blatant, and it frightened him. Despite it being a relatively cloudless night, Fitz was shivering. There were so things that could go wrong: his family looking down on him, his family’s image crumbling, the shame of a bad match, and a million other things that crashed and mixed with the other concerns swirling around in his mind, like a tropical storm transforming into a hurricane. 

Fitz tried to focus on Keefe’s expression and body language, to read him and see into his brain. No telepathy. That’s crossing the line. Instead, he focused on Keefe’s features, which were much more prominent in the moonlight. His expression was pained, and his eyes held the sorrow of trillions of widows and widowers alike. His hair practically glowed, and seemed more unruly than usual, like waves raging in a storm. There was a war going on in his mind, and he wasn’t strong enough to make it out alive. Not alone, at least. But still, Fitz needed to set the record straight - or rather not straight.

Impulsively, Fitz seized Keefe’s wrist and finds his vein. “Do you want me to call off the Gala? For you?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” Keefe tried to pull out of Fitz’s vice grip, but he held strong, still gentle enough not to hurt him. “Why would you it off? This is one of the biggest events of your life.”

Fitz sighed, his heart rate picking up. He was going to have to be blunt about it. “Do you like me? Romantically?”

“What? No!” he squeaked.

And his heart skipped three beats.

One for guilt. One for fear. And one like a held breath.

“You liar,” Fitz accused, but he said it with a breathy laugh, full of relief. Releasing his arm, he wrapped him in a tight hug and murmured into his shoulder. “I like you too, dummy.”

Keefe’s eyes were widened in surprise, and his response was rather delayed, but he hugged him back, resting his chin on top of Fitz’s head. “You couldn’t have given me a few hints?”

“I asked you to hold my hand!”

“Yeah, but you could’ve meant that platonically. Be more clear, Fitzy,” Keefe teased, pulling back a bit to boop his nose.

Fitz blushed furiously. They had reached the eye of the hurricane. It was calm. Safe. Serene. “Well, are you gonna kiss me or not, idi-”

Keefe didn’t wait for the end of the sentence as he tilted Fitz’s chin up and gently pressed their lips together. They grinned, but didn’t break the kiss. It was a picture perfect moment, something taken right from a fairytale. A tidbit from a could-have-been.

But it was over all too soon, and a gasp from just beyond them sent them tumbling into the storm once more. Fitz pulled away and his face went pale. He witnessed it. His father. Alden Vacker. Had witnessed him kissing his male best friend in a tree on the day of his Winnowing Gala.

“What is the meaning of this, Fitzroy?!”

“I can explain-”

“There is no explanation! You disgrace the Vacker name on a daily basis, why must you make it worse by playing these games?”

“Dad, it’s not a game-”

“It’s disgusting!”

“It’s LOVE, dad.”

“You’re fooling yourself! There are hundreds of girls ready to give you their everything and you waste your time with this blasphemy! This wouldn’t be happening if you’d just learn to control yourself.”

“I can’t control the way I feel!”

“You and I both know that’s not true. And you can still control how you act, just enough to save yourself and the rest of the Vackers the embarrassment!”

“Will you listen to me for once in your life?!” Fitz shouted. He was done with his father’s manipulation. “I am romantically attracted to Keefe. I like men. That’s the way I am, that’s the way I was born, that’s how I feel. I’m not in control of it, and I’m not going to accept any disrespect from anyone about this! Much less a lowlife like you!”

“You are not my son,” Alden spat, stomping his foot on the ground.

“And you aren’t welcome here,” Della snarled. Her jaw was clenched and it was clear she was about to go in for the kill. Edaline stood behind her supportively, looking just as deadly with a string of fairy lights coiled in her hands threateningly.

“Radelle, Eda, surely you see-”

“The only place you be seeing yourself is off of my property,” Della countered.  

Alden scoffed in disbelief. “I believe you mean OUR property, dear.”

“Then you forget who the Vacker name really belongs to.” Edaline handed Della the coil of fairy lights. “You take care of him, I’ll start sending the girls home.”

“Gladly,” Della said through clenched teeth, before turning to the boys. “You two can have a sleepover tonight, I’ll bake some treats. But remember, behave.” Fitz could’ve sworn he saw his mother wink before she forcefully escorted Alden out of Everglen. HIs mind was incapable of forming full thoughts.

“Sleepover, huh?” Keefe hopped down from the tree. “Sounds like we could cause some chaos.” Keefe opened his arms in expectation.

“First of all, do NOT make a mess in my room,” Fitz started. “Second of all, there’s no way I’m dropping down there. You won’t catch me.”

“Aw, come on, Fitzy. Aren’t relationships about trust?”

“Wait, so you’re comfortable with the label of ‘boyfriend’?”

“Yes, Fitzroy Avery, but that’s besides the point. I wanna carry you upstairs. Drop down and get on my back.”

Fitz cringed at the sound of his name, but dropped down anyway, clinging to Keefe’s back for his dear life. 

“Onwards!” He cheered as he gave Fitz a piggy back ride all the way to his room. ——————

Fitz smiled down at the boy relaxing in his lap, lovingly combing his fingers through the boy’s blonde locks. This must be what makes life so divine. This is what euphoria is. The little gems of life where you cherish others with every fiber of your being. This is happiness. He’s what I want. Keefe leaned towards Fitz’s touch, his mind clearing plagued by other thoughts. “What’s wrong?” Fitz asked. “And no beating around the bush. I want to know what’s really bothering you.” When Keefe didn’t talk, he added, “You’re going to have to open up sooner or later, babe. I don’t want to be left out of the circle. I want you to let me in.”

“You don’t want to know the storm growing inside of me,” Keefe rasped, blinking back a few tears. “It’s too dangerous. And I don’t want to risk losing you.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he smiled sadly. “Keefe, you could never lose me over sharing your thoughts and feelings. This relationship is a two-way street - you open up to me and I open up to you. And... we all have storms, they’re just a little different. Some people might have thunderstorms, while others have hurricanes, and some might just have some windy days. But that doesn’t invalidate it. A storm is a storm, and a problem is a problem, regardless of the size and severity.”

“Getting poetic, are we?” Keefe joked, before biting his lip. “Sorry. I guess it wouldn’t kill to tell you some things.”

“Take as long as you need to. You don’t have to tell me everything at once, if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Sighing, he gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts. “I... just hated being around them. I couldn’t stand the way they expected me to fit into this perfect mold, or their version of perfect.”

“I hated how they only talked to me when they thought I was doing something wrong, something shameful. They made me feel like my best wasn’t enough. So... I stopped trying my best. I stopped obeying their stupid rules, I stopped thinking about what others would think of me. I wanted to be imperfect, and I wanted to shove it in their faces. I pranked, I ditched, I did anything I could to defy them. I was tired of being the circus puppet, so I cut my strings and stole the show.”

Fitz remained silent for a moment, Keefe shifting uncomfortably in his lap. He went to get up, but Fitz placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. “Sounds like you’ve got quite the thunderstorm.”

Keefe scoffed. “More like a whirlpool. And I don’t want you to drown with me.” “It won’t get that far,” Fitz insisted, concern emitting from him in waves. “I won’t let it.”

“And what can you do to stop it, Fitzy? The tides are turning, and absolutely no one is strong enough to steer the ship away.”

“You don’t know that. Keefe, I need you to have hope.”

“I knew it was a bad idea saying anything.”

Keefe closed his eyes from the sudden exhaustion, using what little energy he had left to turn to Fitz. “Can you emote a little quieter? I know I’m the light of your life, but you don’t need to worry about me that much.”

Oh, it was a whirlpool alright. But not in the way that Keefe imagined. Fitz’s heart pounded like a marching drum, as he reached into his back pocket. 

Keefe opened an eye in mild curiosity. “What’re you doing?”

“Get up, I have something to offer.”

“Oh?” His mischievous smirk returned, the manner in which his eye was dazzling hinting how clever and evasive he thought he had been. “And what would that be?”

The sapphire on the ring, placed firmly in its royal blue velvet box, glimmered from the light of the chandelier, and Keefe practically stumbled back in shock.

Fitz roller his eyes amusedly. “I’m not proposing. Not yet, anyway. I’m making you a promise. A deal. And if you accept this ring, you agree to it.”

“Bribery, Avery dearest? I thought you were above that.”

Fitz’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. “Think more negotiation.”

“Alright,” Keefe said, scooting closer in a criss cross position. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath before speaking up again. “Keefe, in giving you this ring, I am vowing to always be by your side, through thick and thin. I will respect your boundaries, and let you open up on your own time. I will let you in just as much as you let me in. I will express myself just like you do. I promise to be with you no matter the weather.”

“Then I’ll be your lighthouse in the darkness,” Keefe responded softly.

Fitz slipped the ring onto Keefe’s finger. To no one’s surprise, it was a perfect fit.  

“It looks good on you,” Fitz complimented before a realization flashed by his eyes. “But if you don’t like it, we can find another!”

“It’s perfect,” he reassured him. “You’re perfect.”

Fitz hid his face to cover his blush. “So you promise? Through turbulence and tranquility?”

They interlocked their fingers.

“Always.”

[kerikaaria]

If I Never Met You: Chapter 30

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) FLUFF

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Series Masterlist

Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31

Chim: Seokjinnie hyuuuuuuung~ Where are yooooouuuuu?

Taetae: What do you mean? He was right… OH NO, HE’S GONE!

Joonie: I saw him in the kitchen making some food earlier.

Chim: Yeah, well he’s not there anymore. I can’t find him anywhere. Where did he go?

Yoongi: Does it matter? It’s our day off.

Chim: OF COURSE IT MATTERS!

Taetae: We have no idea where he is!

Chim: What if he’s been kidnapped?!

Taetae: Who knows what could be happening to him right now as we speak!

Hobi: There they go sharing one braincell again…

You stared at your phone, not surprised in the least at the source of the many notification sounds you received in the last minute alone. Jin was looking at his phone as well, shaking his head at the antics of his younger brothers.

“Did you forget to tell them we had plans today?” you asked, even though the answer was obvious.

“Guess so,” Jin chuckled as he typed in the group chat to let them know he was okay before Taehyung and Jimin sent a search party out for him.

The two of you had been walking along a beach you came across, just relaxing and enjoying the view and each other’s company when your phones started to get blown up. As you slowly progressed down the sand, not quite close enough to the waves to need to worry about your shoes getting wet, Jin continued to be preoccupied by his phone.

Just as you were about to tease him for paying more attention to the device than you, he suddenly laughing hard enough that he stopped in his tracks. You stopped as well, turning to him with your eyebrows raised, silently questioning what was so funny.

He eventually looked up at you, needing to suppress more laughing so he could manage to get out what was entertaining him so much. “Some fans really have the eyes of hawks. Not even censoring faces of the staff in videos stops them,” he said. Of course, that didn’t explain much, so you waited for him to further explain.

“I just came across this profile on twitter,” he said. “It tracks all the times that you’re caught in pictures that fans take of us. And also when you, or what fans think to be you, interact with us or are in the shot in videos. And that led me to finding a gold mine of tweets with fans gushing about our interactions and shipping you with the different members.”

Your eyes widened, almost comically. “W-What?!”

Jin resumed his laughing fit, but managed to turn his phone towards you to show you what he was talking about. And sure enough, you saw exactly what Jin described. A picture one fan caught of Hoseok at an airport with you standing next to him, and a bunch of comments mostly fangirling over shipping the two of you.

The sight under any of the other pictures this profile tweeted was identical, some even inciting small arguments between fans who thought that you would be better fit with a different member of the group.

“It seems like the popular one to ship you with this week is Namjoon,” Jin said once he was able to regain his composure once more. “Apparently the two of you had a lot of chemistry in this one clip where your blurred face seemed to be looking at him in a Bangtan Bomb.”

Your mind went blank as you slowly returned the phone to its owner, having trouble comprehending the fact that this was actually a thing. Were you surprised that there was some shipping going on? Not particularly. The fans knew who you were and that you were with the boys all the time, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume there were those who would wonder if you dated any of them.

But seeing that there was an account dedicated to spotting you in videos and pictures, and that spurred a whole mini community in the fandom that enjoys shipping you with any and all of them? That was crazy to come to terms with existing.

“Aw, don’t be disappointed Y/n,” Jin said after you didn’t respond, probably for longer than socially acceptable while you still sorted your thoughts on the matter. “There seem to be quite a lot of them who like the idea of me and you.”

Your head resumed normal functionality to snap and look at him. “Why do you say that like that’s a good thing?” you asked.

He grinned as he continued ahead of you, walking backwards to see your expression as he teased you. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy being shipped with my handsome face.”

You rushed toward him, and he broke into a smile, laughing as he turned around to run away from you. “Yah!” you yelled as I chased after him. “Get back here!”

He wasn’t going anywhere near his full speed so you caught up to him rather quickly. He turned around when you reached out to stop him, catching your wrist and pulling on your arm to force you to fall into the sand, him following just behind. While your mind reeled, trying to comprehend all that just happened in the last half of a second, Jin continued to laugh.

“What was that for?” You asked after a moment of collecting yourself (again), turning your head to the side to look at your friend. He met my stare as his laughter calmed down, and you laughed a little yourself as well. “I was trying to not get sand stuck in every crevice of my clothes today.”

“We haven’t gotten to hang out just the two of us in so long,” Jin replied, ignoring your lame complaints.

You lightly sighed. “It really has been a long time, huh?” Of course you had seen each other almost every day, just as you had with the other boys. But by now it was easy to forget that there was a time the only one you knew was Seokjin, and that it was just you and him spending time together. Even after becoming their manager, while you got along with everyone fine, you were still the most comfortable around the oldest for a while.

“This is so nice,” Jin exclaimed as he turned towards the sky and closed his eyes. “I know none of the others are having as good of a time as I am since I’m monopolizing you today, but I hope they are recharging like I feel like I am.”

“I hope so, too,” you replied before the two of you fell back into a comfortable silence, watching the clouds make their way across the sky for a while.

After staying just like that for quite a while, Jin was the first to sit up. You followed his lead as he stood up, then reached his hands out to help you up as well. He helped brush the sand out of your hair and from the back of your shirt before doing the same to himself.

“So where to now?” you asked.

Seokjin shrugged. “I don’t really know anywhere. Let’s just keep walking,” he said, flashing a smile.

“I don’t know if we should spend that much time walking,” you said. “You know we’ll be walking around a lot every day during shooting.”

He just shrugged. “It’s not like we’re on our feet all day. Besides, what else are we supposed to do?”

“That is true, I guess.” You made your way back to solid ground, looking for where you should head to next. “You know, I think I saw a street with shops back that way,” you suggested, pointing in the direction you had come from. “Want to go see if there’s anything interesting there?”

“Sounds good to me,” your friend replied, placing a hand on your lower back as you walked.

The street you found was full of small shops, most of which were definitely aimed towards tourists. Small, overpriced trinkets and stereotypical “I Love” shirts were visible through the windows. While they had little effect on you, it seemed that Jin was rather interested in something he saw in one of the stores you passed by. You knew he’d just ignore it and walk past if he noticed you didn’t particularly care, so you decided to enter the shop first so he would follow.

The shopkeeper didn’t seem to pay much attention when you entered, distracted by the book they were reading. You turned around to see what would occupy Jin’s attention in this little shop and followed him to a display of tiny snow globes. You had to admit, they actually were kind of cute. But definitely listed for at least twice the price they were really worth.

While Jin picked up and examined a couple of items, you started wandering around the other sections of the shop. Past the keychains with names on them and the city-specific shirts on display, you noticed a jewelry section. There was a display case of cheap jewelry that was made to look more expensive than it was, but what caught your eye was what you saw after that. There were small bracelet designed to hold charms, and then a wide variety of charms to choose from.

As with everything else, of course it was overpriced. But you couldn’t stop yourself from perusing through the many unique pieces that were offered. You had never had a charm bracelet before, even though you thought they were interesting and would have liked to own one. You weren’t sure what you would have wanted to get specifically, but just taking a look for a while kept you entertained while Seokjin continued looking at what he wanted.

When I eventually heard Jin at the register making a purchase, you tore my eyes away from the display to stand next to him while he paid and you walked out of the store together.

“What did you get?” you asked

“It’s a secret,” he replied, winking at me. You started walking away, but Seokjin stopped as he looked back into his bag.

You paused as well, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?”

He took another second before looking at you and saying, “Sorry, can you wait right here, Y/n. There’s one I forgot to get.”

“I can come back in with you,” you offered.

“No, that’s okay,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you from moving. “Just wait here, I’ll only be a minute.”

You shrugged, seeing no problem with waiting outside while he finished his purchase. He did perfectly fine with the first one on his own so it wasn’t like he needed you.

You took out my phone as you waited, looking at the group chat that Eric had put you into a few days ago. You were overwhelmed when it had happened. He didn’t give you any warning or ask you about it first, just decided to make a chat with you in it. Suddenly you had found myself thrown into conversations with not only Eric, but also Kevin, Amber from f(x), Peniel from BTOB, and Jackson from Got7. They were surprisingly active in the chat, although you hadn’t been able to chat much since you were added, being as you’ve been busy with work.

Some may think that since you’re around a K-pop group all the time, that meeting people from other groups wouldn’t be a big deal. But oh boy, was it nerve wracking. Got7 had just debuted this year, and being as Jackson and Namjoon had made quick friends when they met at music shows it wasn’t so bad talking to him. You were already a bit familiar with him. But the rest?

You were fans of them before I even came to Korea. Just like when you met Eric, you were still super nervous in the chat. But the rest of them were pretty familiar with each other, so they easily kept conversations flowing in the chat and were constantly trying to include you when they could. You almost felt bad for not being able to be more active in it right now, but they of course understood.

You barely got to read through the messages that you had missed before Jin came back out of the shop, looking happy with his extra purchase.

“Ready to go?” you asked, putting your phone away.

“Let’s go!” he responded, linking his arm through yours and practically started skipping down the sidewalk. You laughed, trying really hard to keep up with your shorter legs.

You found a local place to eat before deciding it was probably a good idea to head back to their “dorm” they were staying at.

On your way back down the street, a different store caught Jin’s eye and he paused in front of it.

“Do you really have something else you want to buy?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“There’s something really cool in here,” Seokjin replied. “Can we just look really quick?” He flashed his attempt of puppy eyes at you, as if he needed that to convince you.

“Yeah sure, it can’t hurt,” you said. He quickly entered the shop, heading toward the display that had caught his eye.

You took my time entering after him. This shop was definitely bigger than the one we went to before, and wasn’t blatantly a tourist trap. It sold more expensive wares, things that were more worth their large price tags. What seemed to have gotten Jin’s attention was a display of really nice crystals of all different colors.

“Wow, these are really pretty!” Seokjin exclaimed, closely looking at a deep blue crystal as you approached him. “I wish we had room for things like this in the dorm back home.”

“Even if we did, these are probably way out of our price range, Jin,” you said as you examined what appeared to be an amethyst crystal.

“Yeah, I know,” he responded, backing away a little to look at more of the gems. “But one can dream, right?”

You nodded in agreement, turning away to look over what else was in the store. As your eyes wandered, you noticed the shopkeeper had his eyes set pretty firmly on Seokjin as he looked at the crystals. That wasn’t too unusual, especially with items like these you’re sure that they could never be too safe. But a few moments later another customer entered and started perusing through the other side of the same display that Jin was still examining, and when you looked back to the man at the register his eyes were still firmly glued on your friend.

You realized he hadn’t been looking at you at all, and taking a glance at the new customer as well, you started wondering if there was a certain motivation behind why he was eyeing Jin specifically.

“Hey, Jin,” you carefully said as you tore my gaze away from the man. Jin hummed in response, and you lightly grabbed onto his elbow. “We should probably get going, especially since we’re not buying anything.

“Yeah, just another moment,” he said as his attention turned to another of the beautiful objects.

“I don’t like how the guy at the register is looking at you, Seokjin,” you quietly said, although you weren’t sure why you bothered being quiet when you were pretty sure no one else in the store would have been likely to understand Korean. “I’m sorry, but I really think we should go.”

Jin looked away from the items behind the glass to glance at you, no doubt seeing the concern on your face. He didn’t bother looking at the man, knowing you wouldn’t lie about something like that, before nodding and seeming to decide that it was best to listen to you.

As you were turning around and about to leave, Jin almost bumped into the man who had managed to quietly approach us while we were distracted.

Before we could say or do anything else, the man asked, “Can I help you?” rather sternly. He also seemed to have been speaking slower than normal.

“We just saw the crystals in the window and wanted to take a look at them,” you responded in English, attempting a smile.

He looked the both of you up and down. “Oh, so you do speak English,” he mumbled. Then at a normal volume, “Well, are you going to buy or not?”

You did your best to keep the smile on your face despite how rude this man was being. You knew that the conversation was simple enough that Jin could understand as well, so you hoped that his poker face and acting skills were being useful right now. “Unfortunately not. They’re very pretty, but a bit out of our price range. We were just about to leave. Have a nice day, sir.”

You tugged on Jin’s arm to make sure he knew that was a cue to start walking towards the door. Once you were outside, you let out a deep breath, glad that was over and done with.

“Well, that was rude,” Jin said.

“Yeah, told you I didn’t like how he looked at you,” you replied.

“Oh well, at least we’ve had a nice day overall though.” Jin turned to you to smile as you continued walking. “One rude guy isn’t going to ruin this really nice day I’ve had with you, Y/n.”

“Yeah, of course not,” you replied, returning his smile despite still being a little shaken. He was right, one person shouldn’t ruin the rest of the lovely day you had. “Let’s get back now, hm?”

By the time you made it back, it was evening and everyone there was eating dinner.

“Nice of you to join us, hyung,” Namjoon said through a mouthful of food.

“Did you guys have a nice time?” Hoseok asked, a little more mannerly.

“Yes, we did!” Jin said with a smile. “I missed spending time with Y/n.”

“We see her every day,” Yoongi said.

“You know what I mean,” Jin retorted. Yoongi shrugged in response.

Not wanting to intrude on their personal time, yo just quickly greeted everyone before saying, “I should probably get back to my hotel room. I’ll be seeing you guys tomorrow.”

“Oh, hold on a minute Y/n,” Jin said as he dug through his bag. “I have something for you.”

“For me?” you asked. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” He found what he was looking for and enthusiastically pushed the little box toward you. “Open it.”

You carefully took the box from him, opening the lid to find a bracelet. A charm bracelet like the ones that you saw in the case at the tourist shop. The charms adorning the bracelet were all letters. You gently picked it up, and as you analyzed them you realized there were eight separate sets of letters – RM, J, SG, JH, JM, V, JK, and (your initials) – representing the seven members of BTS and yourself. These little charms weren’t the most expensive thing, but that many letters couldn’t have been cheap! But also, how did he know?

“Jin, what?” you asked after a few moments of not being able to find your voice from the surprise. “How…?”

“I saw you looking at them in the shop,” he said. “When I went back in, asking you to wait outside? I had gone back in to buy that for you. I wasn’t sure what other charms you’d like, but figured I couldn’t go wrong with that.”

“It’s…” you were having trouble finding words as you turned away from the bracelet to look at your friend. “Thank you,” you settled on, smiling widely. “It’s really thoughtful, Seokjin. I love it. Thank you.”

He smiled back before taking the bracelet from you to clasp it around your wrist.

You rushed over to the others to show them the bracelet he got for you, hoping that your enthusiasm over the simple charms showed them how much they all meant to you. You’d definitely be sure to treasure this gift for as long as you could.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 29 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30

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