#just finding comfort and acceptance with a whole family and no expectation of romance

[lucky-clover-gazette]

i love how rtd probably noticed that over the past two-ish decades the doctor has had several "loves," like from showrunner to showrunner and from companion to companion (rose, river song, the master/missy) and just said fuck it. you know what he needs more than romantic love? a best friend, a hug from himself, and a place where he can stay. and it genuinely feels right. he has spent so many years getting his hearts broken over and over again, and now he finally can heal, surrounded by his family, while fifteen starts his own adventure.

ten/fourteen doesn't want to go, and for the first time ever... he doesn't have to.

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆! ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: trying to warm up to writing again so I can get out of this slump. Enjoy some smut of Ghibli pretty boy 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Howl Pendragon x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.6k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, magic (so dubcon), masturbation, squirting, overstimulation, whimpery Howl

The basket in the crook of your arm begins to weigh heavily as you wander around the market, browsing the stalls now that you’ve got all the ingredients to make meals for the next few days. You enjoy cooking for your little family in the castle and you know well enough that Howl is too prone to skipping meals unless you sit him down and put one in front of him. 

Sweet fragrances fill your nose as you stand before a stall selling flowers, your gaze roaming the vast array of colours and the prices attached to each arrangement.

“We have a buy one get twenty percent off for these arrangements.” The vendor, a woman just shy of turning middle-aged, pipes up as she gestures to the grandest and most expensive row of floral arrangements. You nod with a silent smile to show you’ve heard. You have no intention of spending that much coin today but you do have a little more left over than what you’d expected when you left home today and something colourful would make for a lovely addition to your living space, you think. There’s something inherently romantic and uplifting about flowers and you deeply enjoy making sure they have a presence in your life. 

With romance on the mind, you smile to yourself as your fingertips reach up to your collar where a golden necklace is clasped around your neck. It’s a chain of metallic flowers that doesn’t stray too far from your throat, each flower bearing a little pink gem in the middle with a white glassy bead between each flower upon the necklace’s chain. It’s a gift that Howl surprised you with this morning, giving no other reason for it than wanting to give you a little something. He’s overly dramatic at times and has more trouble than most with facing his fears but he does truly love you and you can tell he’s always trying to find ways to remind you of that without words. 

Your eyes land on an arrangement of pink tulips, white lilies and lilies of the valley. That’ll look lovely on the main table, you decide. 

“Just this one please.” You point to the particular arrangement that’s caught your eye and have your coin purse on hand from within your basket already. The vendor picks up the bouquet and begins wrapping the flowers to make them easier to carry without the arrangement being disrupted. You set the proper amount of money down on the table and your hand plays with your necklace in the meantime.

And as you accept the flowers, you feel a wave of heat bloom in your cheeks. 

“Thank you.” You smile politely at the exchange and set the flowers atop your basket, heading off to return home. But your breath feels shorter and skin feels warmer. Have you over-exerted yourself today? Surely not, you do shops like this in the day all the time. You had a decent breakfast and enough sleep… So why do your clothes feel so uncomfortable against your skin? Dehydrated, perhaps. 

You find a nearby café and pop inside to buy a snack and some water, hoping to improve your current state. But the other customers and their chatter, their indecisiveness and the way they stand too close to you from behind in the queue is all starting to get on your nerves. You buy your snack and drink and find a little seat in a corner to have them in peace. You find yourself eating quickly to try and amend whatever your body is telling you is wrong and find yourself not taking any time to really appreciate the taste of the sweet little pastry. Your water is similarly finished quickly and without thought. Your mood doesn’t improve and the chair is uncomfortable. You squirm in your seat the whole time, unable to find a comfortable position and regretting having come in here and spent any money at all as it’s done nothing to make you feel better. You want to be alone – no, – you want to be home. Home and in Howl’s arms as he takes your mind away from whatever’s ailing you, maybe even uses a bit of his magic to make you feel better. 

You stand up and pluck up your basket from the seat beside you. And then your eyes widen slightly as you feel a sudden wave of slickness in your panties. You cringe as you try to subtly shift your hips and thighs without anyone noticing, praying that whatever’s just leaked from you won’t seep out of your panties. It’s too early to be your period, you assess as you leave the café and make your way home. Discharge, maybe? It could just be wetness but you’re not aroused. Or are you? The thought makes heat bloom across your cheeks as you turn the corner and step into the street that’ll lead you home. You’re frustrated, keep squirming to push your thighs together and make friction, all you want is to be with Howl… but what could have brought this on? 

You find yourself shiver slightly as a cool breeze caresses your exposed chest, a pleasant feeling washing down your spine at feeling such relief on your flushed skin. Oh… you are horny. The realisation only fills your mind with lewd images of what you might coax your lover to do to sate such a feeling and the intensity of it only grows and grows. You continue to silently pray that you won’t leak through your panties but the material is sticky now and feels as though it’s rubbing against your sensitive slit with each awkward step. 

You bite your bottom lip and wince as your hardened nipples poke against the fabric of your bra and all you want is to feel Howl’s hands squeezing them, his warm mouth wrapped around them. You let out a little huff through your nose as you suppress a soft whine at just how incredible that idea seems right now. You finally arrive home and set the basket down on the table. 

“Hi, Calcifer. Are Howl or Markl in?” You ask as you pick up some firewood to feed him. 

“Welcome back. Markl left not that long ago to make some deliveries and Howl said he should be back soon.” Calcifer replies before gnawing on the chopped log you’ve given him. You’re disappointed at the news that Howl isn’t back yet but nod your head in acknowledgement. 

“Alright. You keep up the good work, you’re doing brilliantly as always.” You offer him a kind smile. A little praise goes a long way with Calcifer and you know Howl doesn’t do it often enough. Calcifer gives his thanks and begins mumbling to himself about how you appreciate him at least. 

Your eyes glance to your full basket that needs to be unpacked but you just frown at it and head upstairs to the bedroom that you share with Howl instead. You’re growing increasingly frustrated and you’re sure the flowers will do just fine without water for a little while longer. 

The moment the door closes behind you, you’re stripping off your clothing. It gets thrown to the floor, the end of the bed, wherever. Your panties have a little puddle of slick upon the seat and a sinewy string of arousal sticks between them and your pussy as you step out of them and lay yourself on the cool silk sheets of the bed. They feel like a balm to your heated skin and you let out a soft mewl at how your nipples stiffen in the air, feeling so sensitive and aching for attention. 

Your mind wanders to memories of long, passionate nights shared with Howl in this bed, how much of an attentive lover he is and how he loves to tease just as much as he himself likes to be teased. One hand slides down past your abdomen as you recall the amount of times he’s reverently lapped between your thighs like you were a fountain of youth and not just a woman. Your other hand pinches at your left nipple and a small moan is muffled behind your bitten lip. Why are you even so worked up? You don’t think you’re at a point in your cycle where your hormones would be affecting you like this. All you can think of is how relieving it is to have your fingers rub sticky circles onto your clit that can never amount to how magical Howl’s tongue can feel there. Your fingers dipping into your weeping hole pale in comparison to the sweet stretch of his cock. All you can think of is him, and what you want him to do to you as you moan softly without anxiety that you’ll be overheard as the door is enchanted to be soundproofed. You yourself feel enchanted, like you’re under some spell of-

Your fingers pause completely and your eyes open, the bubble of your fantasy having burst. 

That bastard. 

You were under a spell. A spell he put upon you this morning with a gentle declaration of love and a kiss to your cheek as he clasped your new gift around your neck this morning. You wipe the wetness from your fingers onto your thighs and sit upright, your body subconsciously spreading your legs wider as you do so. You reach back for the clasp of the necklace and end up tracing your hands around the entire chain of it but there’s no clasp to be found. It’s gone. You huff. What an asshole, casting a spell over you to make you horny while you go out and be a dutiful lover, making sure you all eat for the next few days and he has the audacity to not even be here when you return feeling like a cat in heat. 

Without him here to break the spell by removing the necklace from your throat, there’s little else you can do and your throbbing clit is practically weeping for the return of your fingers. Hoping that you can at least quell the heat in your core, if not satiate it, you lay back with a frustrated huff and resume rubbing at the sensitive little pearl. You’re so wet that you can hear the slick sounds as you touch yourself, your head tipped back against the plush pillow beneath your head. It feels good but it’s not good enough. Howl made this mess and now you firmly believe that he should be the one to clean it up; with his slender fingers, that talented mouth, his pretty co- 

“Well, isn’t this a most welcome sight to return home to?~” A familiar voice teasingly muses from the doorway. 

You’re startled for a moment as you instinctively try to cover yourself up before you take a moment to realise who it is that’s closing the door behind him. 

“You.” You hiss as he grins down at you, clearly proud of his handiwork. “This is your fault!” He cocks his head to the side, green jewels swinging at his ears as his lips curl upwards even more. 

“Oh, you were thinking about me? I’m flattered, sweetheart~” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You huff in reply as he sets a knee on the bed and his eyes drink in the sight of your flushed skin, everything on display for him as you lay beautifully in the middle of your shared bed like a present just waiting to be opened and played with. 

“Ah… You don’t like the magic I put into your gift?” He asks, his tone playful and you don’t know whether you want to smack or kiss that smug grin right off his pretty face. 

“No.” You reply firmly. His deft fingers glide up your thigh and then curl around it to tug it towards him. He lets out an awed sigh at the sight of your wet slit, your slickness dripping down to the sheets. 

“Oh but look~” He croons, “Your sweet pussy just loves it~” He bites his plush bottom lip as though resisting the urge to just dive right into you like a starved man. “So pretty…” He whispers as he gently gathers up some wetness from your entrance and pushes it up to smear over your sensitive clit. It sends a shot of liquid pleasure straight through your blood and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your throat.

“How about this…” He begins to propose as he moves his hand away from your pussy in favour of featherly dancing his fingers between your hips in a way that’s almost ticklish but brings you a teasing sort of pleasure, “You put on a pretty show for me-” He leans in to kiss down the valley of your breasts, warm and sensual, “-and I’ll remove the necklace, deal?” 

You whine quietly, wanting relief right here and right now after the day of desperate need you’ve faced so far. But you know that Howl is a trickster at heart: if you don’t play by his rules then you won’t be in for the prize. 

“Deal.” You concede. Howl makes himself comfortable at the end of the bed between your legs, a hand reaching down to adjust his pants as he takes in the sight of your aching pussy and stiff nipples. You lay back and spread your legs wide apart to make sure that none of his view is obstructed, even if it brings a rush of heat to your cheeks. 

You resume rubbing your throbbing clit, making sure to make quite a spectacle of using your fingers to spread your slit open for him to see just how wet you are from the enchantment he’s put upon you (and from being watched in such an intimate and vulnerable position like this). He’s watching you with enthralled attention as you play with yourself for his bright blue eyes to see. 

You’re oozing slick as you rub yourself in front of him, your pussy practically begging him with this little show to just come and take you already with how desperate and ready you are for him after suffering from the necklace’s enchantment all day until now. As you use one hand to rub sticky circles on your clit, the other comes up to cup your breast, teasing and pinching at your pert nipples for him. 

Alluring moans and whines spill past your lips as you try to tempt him into giving up this bet and fucking you right here and now, convincing him with both sight and sound. Your fingers make an audibly slick noise as you smear your wetness through your slit, feeling it leak down from your needy entrance. 

“Rub faster now.” He murmurs as he bites his lip, hand rubbing at his hardening cock through his pants, the bulge of it becoming ever more obvious. “Come on, pretty girl, beg me to fuck you~” There’s a taunt to his tone. You know he already wants you (this is Howl, after all, the damn can’t ever keep his hands off you) but he’s holding back just to see how far you’ll go for him. 

But you obey his order nonetheless and press down harder on your clit, rubbing faster against it as it throbs beneath your fingertips that flick with need against it. The moans pour past your lips with more frequency now and you feel the beginnings of your orgasm coiling tight in your abdomen, a sensation that leaves you aching for Howl to crawl closer and finish what he started when he clipped that damned chain around your neck this morning. Your lips tremble and the sight of your impending climax makes Howl wet his lips as he undresses himself, taking out his cock to stroke it to the sight of you, pre-cum beading at his pretty pink tip. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Earn it.” He says lowly and he draws nearer to you. The promise of being filled by the cock that he’s fisting in front of you seems to tip you over that edge and you throw your head back against the pillows with a series of cries for him and the liquid-electric pleasure that bursts through your veins. It’s intense, far more intense than when you usually touch yourself, and you can only chalk it down to the enchantment’s effects on you. 

While your head is still reeling up in the clouds of pleasure, you feel Howl’s weight over you, his hands capturing your wrists as his lips crash onto yours to swallow all of your pretty moans, tongue curling into your mouth. But he pulls away just a few millimetres to hear the little choked noise you let out when he pushes his cock into your fluttering heat, still so sensitive from having cum just seconds ago.

“H-Howl-!” You whimper out his name and look up at him with wide eyes. Usually, he gives you tender breaks between orgasms that are filled with sensual touches and soft kisses, never once has he intentionally taken you while you’re already at the height of your sensitivity like this. 

“Ah, it’s like you’re trying to milk me already…” He hisses between his teeth, not having expected you to feel quite this good compared to his hand. He closes his sapphire eyes for a moment to compose himself before he begins to thrust into you, skin smacking against yours with each deep thrust.

“You said you’d take the necklace off!” You gasp between little panted breaths, fighting how your eyes just want to roll back as your hips twitch and your thighs shake. 

“Mh, I did say that~” He agrees with a quiet whine at how tightly you’re squeezing his cock, his hands still keeping your wrists in place as he holds them on either side of your head. His necklace and earrings swing with each thrust into you, his hips angling so that the head of his cock nudges against your sweet spot over and over. He glances down to find you creaming around him already, your pussy soaked with your heightened arousal. “You feel so good… keep squeezing on me like that, my love~” There’s almost a whimper to his tone as he fucks into you, leaning down over your body to bury his face in your neck and take in your scent as his balls smack against your ass. 

“Howl, c-can’t take m-more…” You brokenly plead with him, head tipped back against the pillows and granting his warm mouth perfect access to your neck for him to cover it in kisses and little bites. 

“Oh, yes you can~” He replies and you can feel the smile upon his lips as he says so. 

“You’re gonna let yourself feel so good~” He pushes one of your thighs up with a hand under your knee so that he can thrust deeper into you, making sure to keep his hips angled to hit all of your sweet spots and grinding against you a little each time he bottoms out so that your clit rubs against his pelvis, “And you’re gonna squirt all over my cock~” He murmurs by your ear and catches the lobe between his teeth. 

His words strike just as deeply as his cock does into you and you find yourself clenching around him, making him whimper as his breath fans against the shell of your ear. He speeds up just enough to have you wrapping your legs around his tapered waist, holding him close so that there’s no chance of him trying to pull away at the last minute, something you wouldn’t put past him. 

You moan desperately beneath him as you feel yet another climax approaching, the muscles in your abdomen going taut as you clench on him. Howl’s grip on your wrist and leg tighten as he moans praises into your ear mere moments before you squirt on his cock, making a mess of it. And he continues thrusting into you to ride you through it. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it~” He lets out a shaky breath, his voice whiny in your ear, “Cum on my cock, make it yours, sweetheart~” And it’s just as you’re about to cry out that now it’s really too much that Howl hits his own end too, pulling out to rapidly stroke his cock and watch his cum paint ribbons over your pretty, used pussy. 

Your mind and body are reeling so much from all the pleasure that you don’t even notice that the chain around your throat is being removed until you hear its little links clink together as it’s set down on the bedside. Howl collapses onto the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, pushing your hair away from your face so that he can pepper your forehead and cheeks in kisses before finally softly pecking your lips. 

“Easy, darling, easy…” He whispers soothingly as he cups your cheek and strokes it with his thumb, “Would you like some water?” He offers softly, knowing that all of this was orchestrated to be very intense for you and you’re deserving of aftercare that’s just as intense. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*

The next morning, Howl wakes with a smile on his lips to find you in his arms, hair tousled from yesterday’s activities and sleep. You’re warm and still naked against him, the skin-on-skin contact making him just want to melt into you. 

He lets out a quiet groan, however, at an ache in his loins when he realises he’s erect. His hand runs down his pale belly to wrap around his cock, only for him to let out a muffled whimper when he finds himself much more sensitive than usual. 

Your eyes crack open as you giggle cheekily, revealing that you haven’t been asleep at all. The wizard’s other hand rises up to his neck to find that the necklace has now been clipped around his throat instead. 

“Oh, you minx…” 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ comms. ∘ taglist ∘ follow/reblog

🏷️@involuntaryspasms @veryfancydoilies @writing-noah @signyvenetia @justanotherkpopstanlol @brideofalucard  @wandererindreams @singleteapot @kingheinrey @yourfamilyfriendsatan @welcome2thesaltyspitoon @firagirl @ghostofpolaris @deers-tears @itsonlydana @jofie-does-things @sarah22447

[curryshesus]

bts fics that give me life in a drought

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 2

didn't expect to make a part 2 so soon but seeing how much recognition the first one got, here we are! some of these contain a hearty amount of angst, and oh they're just simply divine :( once again, please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did!

➺ knife’s edge - by @readyplayerhobi

| jungkook x reader, jimin x reader | 141.8k

mafia au, fluff, angst, smut, violence, series

>> summary: "the jeon clan is family, built on blood and loyalty. it’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the clan, jeon jungkook. you would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?"

this fic absolutely BROKE ME. i was so conflicted all throughout and deadass went through all the 50 stages of grief. the angst was unparalleled. the fluff had me giggling like a madman cuz jk is an absolute sweetheart :( jimin is too :(( y/n is dumb and so is her situation :((( i cherish this fic sm

➺ novocaine - by @kinktae

| jimin x reader |

1990s au, exes au, angst, eventual smut, series

>> summary: "going home was hard – painful even. but falling back in love with jimin, the boy you left behind? downright gut-wrenching."

➺ ghostin him- by @adonis-koo

| namjoon x reader (taehyung x reader) | 26k

angst, angst, as well as angst. comfort too dw, one-shot

>> summary: "life is nothing more than dull colors for you, your world shattered and laying in the shards of what once was rather than focusing on what is. that is until you meet kim namjoon, who is immediately taken by you without realizing you’re a girl with a whole lot of baggage, through tears and many sleepless nights you’re faced with a choice of hanging on with bleeding hands, or accepting what is, and letting go."

ohmygod the writing hello? the amount of soul, depth, and sheer utter beauty in missy's words are beyond me. had me sobbing every other line and my heart aching all throughout and boy was it worth it.

➺ take five - by @jiminrings

| yoongi x reader | 10k

angst, fluff, unrequited love, pinning

summary: "dr. min yoongi's a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand - oh and also, he's divorced."

➺ page turner - by @gukslut

| taehyung x reader | 13.6k

teacher!tae/ librarian!reader, fluff, smut, minor angst

summary: "corny romance and a zillion cheesy Romeo and Juliet quotes and references."

my tainted hopeless romantic heart ugh. they're so cute.

➺ bloom- by @hobidreams

| namjoon x reader | 20.7k

assassin!reader x florist!namjoon, smut, angst, action, sprinkles of fluff

>> summary: "family is who you kill for. who you die for. in this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. but when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. that is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom."

➺ counterfeit culture - by @ggukcangetit

| seokjin x reader | 29k

modern day au loosely based on jane austen’s pride & prejudice, e2l, fluff, smut, comedy

>>summary: “for as long as you can remember, you’ve always known right from wrong, good from bad, and woke from entitled/ignorant. but when you continue to cross paths with Kim Seokjin - the apparent antithesis of everything you believe in - certain walls begin to crumble. and over time, you come to realise that the world isn’t black and white, first impressions can be misleading, and that you are just as guilty as each person you’ve judged so harshly. realisation brings acceptance, and maybe, just maybe, acceptance can bring something more.”

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

| jungkook x reader | 22k

friends to lovers!au, college!au, fluff, comedy, angst

>> summary: "in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him."

➺ to hold a dragon's heart - by @softlyjiminie

| taehyung x reader | 19.1k

dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader, smut, angst, fluff, forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au

>> summary: "two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge, never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?"

[randxmthxughts]

And I cried when you first said, "Oel ngati kameie" - Neteyam x Metkayina ! reader (forbidden love)

summary: despite her father's wariness of the sully's and their 'demon-blood,' y/n can't help but feel drawn to neteyam. as the two of them bond over their similar experiences of parental pressure, he finds himself falling in love with her

contains: love triangle, friends to lovers, forbidden romance/love, daddy issues (idk where that came from), fluff

wc: 5.7k

a/n: damn, i was hoping to post this like six hours ago but i did not expect for a oneshot to take a whole day to edit. please don't question me about neteyam and y/n's father, i don't want to develop that plot further bc this is a oneshot, so just assume it's a happy ending

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Ever since the Sully family moved to Awa’atlu, whether for better, or for the worst, they became the center of attention. Despite the initial wariness of their nature, villagers eventually seemed to warm up to them, making their stay more comfortable. But unlike the others, you remained hesitant to approach them, your father's warnings of their 'demon-blood' weighing heavily on your mind. It was only in these rare moments, when you couldn't help but notice their oldest son, Neteyam.

“Where were you? I needed you there exactly for situations like this,” Jake raised his voice at Neteyam, “You’re supposed to look after your siblings!”

You watched from a distance, observing the way Neteyam hunched in shame and nodded his head in acceptance of the fault, the way he’d blink rapidly to avoid the tears welling up in his eyes, every time his father’s voice would get louder. It was a familiar sight to you, one that brought back memories of your own father raising his voice at you for disappointing him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Neteyam expressed with sincere guilt in his voice, “I promise I’ll do better next time.”

“I know,” Jake sighed, “Dismissed.”

Jake's pained expression mirrored the face of your own father after his angry outbursts. Ever since your mother's passing, the responsibility of caring for your younger brother Tewtxey had fallen on your shoulders. Your father was tough on you, stricter than the other parents. He believed that protection meant safety, rarely showing you any tenderness. But he had no idea how much his tough love only made you rougher around the edges and deepened the resentment you felt towards him. You despised him in the depths of your heart, unable to make up for his harsh ways with the love you craved from him.

The sight of Neteyam rushing off into the trees tugged at your heartstrings. You guessed that he was in a hurry to find a private corner where he could finally break down. But as much as you wanted to trail after him and tell him that you understood, that it was no big deal to mess up sometimes, you couldn’t. You weren’t close like that, in fact, your interactions had been limited to mere greetings exchanged in passing. Yet, you had witnessed the way his father scolded him for his siblings’ troublemaking on many occasions now, and it felt like you knew him. You were already struggling to take care of one sibling, you couldn’t imagine how hard it was on him to keep an eye on three.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“And what were you thinking leaving Tewtxey alone?” your father was pacing around your marui, tail swishing aggressively from side to side.

You winced when he halted directly in front of you, waiting expectantly for an answer. It was easy for you to tune him out whenever he went on long angry rants, counting down minutes for him to cool down, but whenever he wanted you to answer him, that was when you felt your blood boil. Admitting to your mistakes verbally, without sounding defensive, was a challenge.

“He wasn’t alone,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?”

“I said, he wasn’t alone. He was with Tuktirey, and her father was watching them,” you raised your head slightly to look at his face.

“I told you I do not trust that demon,” your father spat through gritted teeth, “How could you leave your little brother with him?”

“Dad, he is the Toruk Makto. Hasn’t he proved himself to be one of us?” you felt irritated with your father’s stubbornness.

You knew that it was a sensitive subject for him. Having lost his mate to a stupid, pointless interaction with sky people, he was forever in deep hatred towards them. He was conflicted when he first found out about Toruk Makto’s past. It was difficult to respect someone who was a dreamwalker, whose children were only 'half-Na’vi.'

“You dare to challenge me?” he raised his voice at you, sending a shiver down your spine, “All I ask of you is to protect your brother! Is it so hard to listen to me? Is it so hard to understand why your mother is no longer here?”

He hit a nerve with the last question. Of course, ever since her passing, you missed your mother terribly. She was the balance in your family, the gentle touch you craved. But instead of bonding over the loss, your relationship with your father grew more distant. Suddenly, you were too reckless for him, too distracted. He was scared of how much you resembled your mother, of the possibility of the same fate befalling you.

“I’m sorry,” you hung your head in defeat.

Your father began pacing around the room again, his mind searching for another reason to scold you for. It seemed like it wasn’t enough to make you understand how disappointed he was. He stopped, when his eyes landed on the spear resting against the wall. You drew in a sharp breath, realizing that you had forgotten to sharpen the weapon for his upcoming hunt.

“What is this?” he gripped the spear tightly, pointing it accusingly at you, “Are you abandoning your chores now?”

“I forgot about it,” you mumbled.

“I cannot understand what could be keeping you so occupied all day that you neglect your duties. What kind of behavior is this, Y/N?”

Taking the spear from his hand, you stepped back, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes. It wasn't his disappointment that frustrated you; it was his inability to see things from your perspective. He didn’t understand how hard it was on you to grow up without a mother, to always be strong in front of him.

“I’ll do it now,” you promised, taking another step back, “May I go now?”

“Go!” your father shouted.

You fled the marui, gasping for breath to calm yourself down. It felt like all the emotions you had been suppressing came crashing down on you at once. But before you could even begin to process them, the sight in front of you captured your attention.

Your brother was standing with his back turned to you, Neteyam crouched down in front of him not too far. They were playing some sort of game with their hands, when the pair of golden eyes followed your walk up to them. Your brother seemed to pay you no mind, but Neteyam lifted his gaze to greet you with his thick accent.

You only nodded, pursing your lips together and deciding to send away your brother after he’s finished with the game. As you watched them play, it wasn’t hard to notice how distracted Neteyam was by your presence. He’d constantly glance at you to read your expressions, and you guessed he heard the argument that was unraveling minutes ago. Taking advantage of his opponent’s distraction, your brother exclaimed in victory.

“Good job,” Neteyam smiled, patting your brother’s head.

“Y/N, did you see?” Tewtxey looked up to you with a bright smile. You were forced to return it, placing an arm around his shoulder. 

“I did. Now go home and eat, alright?”

Your gentle approach has always worked wonders with your little brother, unlike your father's strictness. He usually obeyed you without hesitation. Tewtxey smiled at Neteyam one last time before leaving the two of you alone. Neteyam stood up, looming over you with his frame.

“He was bouncing around here and looked scared to go in,” he began to explain, “I just wanted to distract him before things cooled down.”

You nodded in agreement. You were always worried that Tewtxey would get caught in the crossfire of your arguments with your father. He was too young to be involved.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Neteyam’s gaze softened, eyes roaming over your features again.

Given the distance from your marui, Neteyam had likely heard everything. He seemed to be curious about how much you were hiding, how the pained expression on your face a few minutes ago was now replaced by a neutral one. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, the weight of the spear in your hand suddenly seeming heavier.

“Well, I have to go,” you cleared your throat, stepping back.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned. 

You nodded, turning to leave. Neteyam trailed after you as you walked towards the far end of the beach. When you sat down to sharpen the spear, he joined you and plopped down quietly beside you.

“Are you sure you’re alright? That sounded harsh,” he broke the silence.

You blinked rapidly, not daring to meet his golden eyes. Instead, you tried focusing at the task on hand, your motions quick and rough, attempting to make the tip of the spear as pointed as you could. The wood occasionally nicked your fingers, causing stinging pain, but you paid no attention to it. Neteyam watched you silently for a moment, before he reached out and took the spear from your hands, setting it aside. You exhaled, finally meeting his eyes.

“I'm alright. My father just doesn’t know how to handle this by himself."

“Handle what by himself?”

“Me, I guess…raising me. Without mom by his side.”

You were a mystery to Neteyam from the first day of his arrival, always keeping a distance with him, as your father’s harsh gaze grazed his family whenever they crossed paths in public. Neteyam didn’t really understand the reason for the dislike but the argument he overheard earlier helped him piece together some of the puzzle.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he said quietly, “Ao’nung mentioned it once to us. It must have been hard without her.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, turning your gaze towards the horizon.

The gentle sound of waves crashing against each other accompanied the sunset, casting a sparkling glow on the water.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

After that moment you shared with Neteyam, you often found yourself running into each other. Whether it was after a fight with your father, or a stressful day for Neteyam, you somehow managed to offer each other a listening ear.

It was easy to open up to him, when you knew he could relate. His eyes always softened at the sight of you, arms instinctively reaching out to pat you on the back whenever you sobbed into his chest after another heavy argument. It seemed like with age, your father was becoming more unbearable, and refused to understand you on any given matter.

“What did he say?” Neteyam asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Well, he saw us hanging out, so make your guess,” you let out a bitter chuckle, wiping your face.

Neteyam couldn’t help but feel partially guilty for the treatment you were getting. He knew about your father's disapproval of him, but he couldn't resist spending time with you and offering comfort after a fight, even if he was the cause of it. You were the only person with whom he could share his own struggles, and feel accepted. 

Of course, hanging out with Neteyam was also a way for you to rebel against your father's orders and show him that he couldn't control you. He didn’t realize that it was his hatred that pushed you further into Neteyam’s arms.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the weeks passed, your friendship with Neteyam grew stronger. There was something special between you but you failed to see the impact you were having on Neteyam's life. You had become the first thought on his mind every morning, his trainings passed in hopes to see you. When he was with you, he wished for time to stand still. And when he went to sleep, he anticipated dreaming about you. But Neteyam was fully aware of the risks of catching feelings for someone whose family despised him.

So he bit his tongue, hoping that you wouldn’t notice it. That maybe with time, things will get better. He was from a different clan, and your father had a clear disdain for him. Even if you reciprocate his feelings, pursuing you would be complicated, if not impossible. But he couldn't deny the warmth he felt in his chest every time he saw you, the way his heart fluttered when you laughed at his jokes. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more between you two, yet he was forced to push the thought aside.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

But jealousy is a disease that brings out the worst in one. Neteyam felt it brewing inside him, as he intensely watched you talking to Ao’nung. Despite knowing about your close friendship with Ao’nung, Neteyam didn’t like him. The way his smile widened every time you said something, the way he stood so close to you…it made his blood boil.

He tried hard to focus on sharpening his arrow, not to raise suspicion in Tsireya and Lo'ak next to him, but his eyes kept drifting to you and Ao'nung. With another stroke of his knife, he accidentally grazed his finger, catching Tsireya’s attention.

“Lo’ak, could you please bring me my shawl? It’s getting chilly,” she asked, her eyes big and innocent.

Lo’ak stood up without a question, not paying attention to his brother’s strange behavior. As soon as he was out of earshot, Tsireya turned her concerned gaze back to Neteyam. He was still watching you with Ao’nung, now sitting down on the sand, your knees touching, deep in a conversation. He had never even heard Ao’nung speak to his friends for more than five minutes, what could he possibly be saying to captivate your attention for so long? Neteyam scoffed in disbelief. 

“Is something bothering you?” Tsireya asked. His head snapped to her, embarrassed that he got caught. 

“Nothing,” he shook his head, returning to the task at hand.

For a moment, Neteyam pondered whether he should ask Tsireya about her brother. Find out if the rumors he had heard from Rotxo were true, if there was a possibility of you being promised to Ao'nung.

“Tsireya, can I ask you something?” he lowered his voice.

“Sure,” she nodded. When Neteyam hesitated to continue, looking around, she reassured him, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Um…Is it true that Ao’nung and Y/N are to become mated?”

Tsireya frowned slightly, and Neteyam couldn’t tell if it was because of his sudden interest in the matter, or because it was untrue. He gulped, secretly hoping it was the latter. She took a long pause before answering.

“Sorry, you caught me off guard,” she apologized, “I just haven’t heard that rumor in a long time.”

“So, it is a rumor?” 

“They haven’t promised themselves to each other as mates, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” Tsireya elaborated, making Neteyam cringe in embarrassment, “But I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“What do you mean?” his ears perked up at the implication.

“Well…” she sighed, “Ao’nung and Y/N always have been close friends. And my father is quite vocal about his admiration for her. He thinks she can be a good mate to Ao’nung, when he becomes the chief.”

Neteyam's eyes darted all over Tsireya's face, trying to understand if there was anything else she wasn’t saying.

"What about Y/N?" he asked, quickly glancing in your direction, "Does she like him? Does she feel pressured because of your father or something?"

“Any girl would feel pressured by my father, but I cannot speak for Y/N,” she answered honestly, “If it makes you feel easy, Y/N and Ao’nung never crossed their boundaries.”

Neteyam hummed in agreement but he didn’t understand anything. His mind was racing with questions, yet he didn’t have the answers. How come Tsireya did not know if you liked her brother? Were you into him? Even if you weren’t, wouldn’t you reciprocate the feelings of the future chief? Surely, Ao’nung wasn't the easiest person to be around, but he seemed different with you.

“Maybe you should ask her about it. You’re friends,” Tsireya nudged him.

Friends.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You’re quiet,” you pointed out, as Neteyam dragged his feet after you, deep into the trees.

“I’m usually quiet,” he muttered.

“Not like this,” you disagreed, gauging for further clarification but Neteyam remained silent.

You did not know that there was a burning desire to confess his feelings to you raging in Neteyam’s mind. Despite Tsireya’s uncertainty the evening prior, Neteyam had already convinced himself that there was something going on between you and the future Olo'eyktan. So he felt rushed to tell you about your feelings, to prevent you from mating with Ao’nung.

But he couldn't help but wonder if he would truly be the best thing for you. What could he offer to you? He was a forest Na’vi, who did not know the way of water, who was useless in the sea. He was unfamiliar to your traditions, his whole life Neteyam prepared for leading the clan, but in Awa’atlu he had nothing to give.

To make matters worse, he found himself competing against the chief's son, someone you had grown up with and knew very well.  And Neteyam could never replace that kind of relationship. Did you ever see him past your friendship, the way he saw you? The doubt and insecurity were consuming him from within.

“Is it because of my father?” you decided to guess, stopping in your tracks.

Neteyam walked past you, shaking his head. You pondered for a moment, before following him.

“Did my little brother break something when you let him play with your stuff the other day?”

Neteyam ignored your guess, holding back the big leaves in your way, waiting for you to catch up. He was deep in his thoughts, yet remained gentle and caring with you. Your gaze softened at the gesture.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He held your gaze without answering. That was it.

“What did I do?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong.”

“If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be tuning me out. I must have done something wrong,” you nudged his shoulder for a reply.

“I was just thinking…” he sighed, meeting your eyes, “Is it true about you and Ao’nung?”

“What about me and Ao’nung?”

“That you’re going to be mates.”

You snorted in disbelief. Although it was a topic of countless conversations with your father, who was eager to arrange a match between his daughter and the future Olo'eyktan, you were too stubborn to comply with your father’s wishes, instead of your own. You and Ao'nung had a strong friendship, sharing almost everything with each other, but it was just that. Friendship. 

“That’s ridiculous, where’d you hear that?” you quirked your eyebrow at him. 

“Rotxo.”

“It’s just a silly rumor that’s been going around since we were kids,” you rolled your eyes. You especially despised it a few years back, when people started teasing you for hampering other girls from pursuing Ao’nung.

“So you’re just friends?” Neteyam asked, his tone more hopeful. 

“Just friends,” you confirmed, “He is like a brother to me.”

“I don’t think he sees you like a sister, Y/N.”

“Why do you care?” you teased him, “Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous of Ao’nung?” he scoffed.

“No reason,” you snickered, walking past him into the clearing.

Neteyam followed after you eagerly, his steps quickening to catch up. You tried to hide a devilish smirk, knowing that you'd pique his interest.

"What is it that Ao’nung has that I don't?"

"Let it go, Neteyam," you swatted at him with your hand. "I'm not going to compare my two friends to each other."

Neteyam pursed his lips, annoyed that he had to drop the subject. He knew that if he pushed too far, he'd be caught in his own trap, coming undone in front of you. There was something about you that made him feel exposed, and he was afraid that you would see right through him.

“Here it is,” you pointed at the spear on the ground. You had lost it the evening prior, and Neteyam was sure you dropped it around here.

“Told you,” he murmured, beating you to it and picking up the spear for himself.

“Thank Eywa,” you grinned at him, “Now let’s go back. If father sees you carrying my spear, he’ll be so annoyed!”

It was an innocent joke. The way you said it wasn’t mischievous, at least not towards Neteyam. You only enjoyed the irritation growing in your father, whenever he saw you spending time with the ‘demon-kid.’ In a strange way, you felt like you were fighting him back. But to Neteyam it was stressful to bear your father’s angry glances. He didn’t like pushing it.

“Is that all this friendship is to you?” his sudden insecurity caught you off guard.

“Huh?”

"Getting back at your father? Is that the only reason you hang out with me, just to piss him off?" his voice grew more accusatory.

“Where is this coming from?” you chuckled in disbelief, “Are you serious?”

“I am,” Neteyam gulped down, “Would you still spend time with me, if your father didn’t hate me so much? I can tell this is how you repay him for being harsh with you. But it’s unfair to me. You don’t get to use me as a tool of your rebellion, don’t get to play with my feelings like that.”

“Neteyam,” you exhaled, now speaking seriously, “I would never let him control my life to the point where he decides whom I befriend. I like spending time with you because of you. You’re very dear to me.”

Neteyam fell silent, doubts bouncing around in his golden eyes. You held his gaze, trying to convince him of the sincerity of your words.

“Do you believe me?”

“I guess,” he shook his head, “I just have a hard time believing anyone genuinely likes me.”

“What are you on about?” you neared him, “The whole village has grown fond of you. I mean, even Ao’nung… He used to fight with you, but now he’s hanging out with Lo’ak like nothing happened.”

“Exactly, he’s hanging out with Lo’ak, not me. He still doesn’t like me,” Neteyam said, his lips twitching with a hint of a smile.

“You dislike him,” you disagreed.

“Only because he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, he just…” you sighed, already regretting what you were about to reveal, “He just thinks that you’re stealing me from him.”

“Stealing you? Is he jealous or something?” an amused smile creeped onto Neteyam’s face.

“I guess. Ao’nung is possessive, you know, he doesn’t like to share.”

“Well then, I guess he’ll just have to deal with it.”

As Neteyam turned on his heels, his braids swayed around with a mind of their own. You watched him walk towards the village, gripping your spear, a slight spring in his step. You could already feel the punishment you’d get, once Neteyam uses this new information against Ao’nung. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, play nice,” you called out to Tuk and your little brother, as they were actively splashing water over each other.

While it was mostly playful, kids their age could easily get too competitive and excited. You propped yourself on your elbows, watching them play in the shallow water. After a fight with your dad, it was now your responsibility to watch Tewtxey whenever he played with Tuk. If it weren’t for your protests, your father wouldn’t even allow their friendship to flourish, so this was the only compromise that you managed to agree upon. You grinned as you watched how happy your brother was, his little giggles filling the air around you with a warm glow. It was in moments like these that you especially missed your mother. You wished she could be there to see her youngest making a friend.

“Babysitting duty?” a thick-accented voice called out, before Neteyam came into your view.

You rolled your eyes at him, earning a low chuckle. Neteyam sat next to you on the sand, his hand brushing past your thigh. You tried to ignore the flush in your cheeks.

“Is your father okay with this?” he pried, gesturing at the kids.

“As long as I keep an eye on them,” you replied with a sigh, “But don’t worry about it, it’s only temporary. My father will get over it.”

“How come?”

“Well, it’s hard not to like Tuk,” you turned your face to look at Neteyam, “And my father has a soft spot for kids. He’s not good with me, but he’s good with Tewtxey and his friends.”

“You think if you have Tuk around enough, he’ll warm up to her?” Neteyam guessed.

“Definitely,” you nodded, “It’d take some time but he’ll like her. She’s a good kid.”

“Okay,” Neteyam agreed, “What about me, though?”

“Hm? What about you?” you asked playfully, catching a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Do you have any ideas on how to get your father to warm up to me?"

“Why would I want that? It wouldn’t be as fun,” you teased him.

“Well, I could argue that it's best for your father to like his daughter's future mate, don't you agree?" Neteyam's voice was light-hearted and playful, yet your heart started racing in your chest.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“You heard me,” he chuckled.

He couldn’t help but feel satisfied with your reaction, it was certain to him that you might have felt something for him too. It was the first time Neteyam blatantly tested the waters for a sign, and you didn’t let him down. He turned his face to continue watching the kids, acting nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Ao’nung pushed you down, his arm firmly planted on your chest, while his other arm quickly snuck around your back to try and flip you over. You protested, pushing against his ribs, trapping his legs with your thighs. You were fake wrestling on the sand, both of you trying to get the upper hand.

“Just give up,” Ao’nung huffed, as you struggled against him.

“Never, skxawng,” you huffed back, determined to win the friendly match. 

“Get off her!” a thick accent cut through the air, and you caught a glimpse of blue hands grabbing Ao’nung by the neck and pulling him off you.

In a matter of seconds, Neteyam attacked Ao’nung with a flurry of punches, one of them landing right on the confused boy’s cheekbone. Angrily, Ao’nung hit him back in the face, and before things could escalate further, you jumped in between the two with an angry hiss.

“Back off, both of you!”

“How dare you hit her?” Neteyam ignored you, trying to reach for Ao’nung.

“We were just playing, Neteyam, calm down,” you said, pushing him back slightly and taking a protective stance in front of Ao’nung.

“Who plays like that? You could’ve hurt her!” Neteyam growled.

“It is none of your business, anyway, skxawng,” Ao’nung stepped forward, looking him up and down.

“Ao’nung, stop,” you exhaled in frustration, then turned to Neteyam, “I’m okay, you didn’t have to protect me.”

“He thinks he has some sort of claim over you because he likes you,” Ao’nung let out a bitter chuckle, “She doesn’t need your useless ass guarding her.”

“What did you say?” Neteyam took an angry step towards him, but you quickly extended your arm to prevent him. 

“Neteyam, stop,” you pleaded with him.

Neteyam hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and Ao'nung. He clenched his fists, his posture still tense, but he took a step back. His lip was bleeding.

“Let's all just go to Tsahik,” you said softly, turning towards Ao'nung, “Are you okay?”

Ao'nung nodded, wincing as you touched his swollen cheekbone. Before you could even grab Neteyam’s arm, to make him follow after you, he was already storming off, a sense of betrayal pitting in the bottom of his stomach.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“No matter how much your father scolds you, it is never enough,” Ronal tsked in disapproval, as she treated Ao’nung’s wounds.

“I told you, that skxawng attacked me first,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes at his mother, earning a low hiss from her.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” you explained, feeling the urge to justify Neteyam in front of the Tsahik, “He thought that you were hurting me.”

“Neteyam is a good boy,” Ronal stood up, signaling that she was done, “You’re nice to Lo’ak, you should be nice to him too”

“Lo’ak is still a kid, he can learn from me,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes, “But Neteyam is too arrogant.”

“Neteyam is not arrogant. In fact, the two of you have many similarities,” you added, earning a supportive nod from Ronal.

Ao’nung ignored you, as he thanked his mother and walked out of the marui. You couldn't help but feel guilty for leaving Neteyam untreated. 

“Tsahik, do you think I could take some of that balm to Neteyam?” you asked hesitantly, “I’ll get it back to you as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time.”

You walked out, determined to find Neteyam, a bowl of white paste nestled gently in your hand. You were surprised to find Ao’nung lingering around the marui, kicking the rocks under his feet out of boredom. 

“You should stop playing with him if you don’t want him to get the wrong idea,” he commented, acknowledging your presence. 

“I’m not playing with anyone,” you frowned in response.

“Come on, Y/N,” Ao’nung looked up at you with a smug smile, “Surely, you can see that the boy is head over heels for you.”

“Who? Neteyam?” you were taken aback.

“Who else?”

“Nonsense, he sees me as a friend.”

“Whatever,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes at you in annoyance, “I’m just saying, you should tell him the truth. Whether you like him or not, he needs to know. I’m tired of him shooting daggers at me, whenever I talk to you.”

Did he really believe that Neteyam liked you? You could only hope that Ao’nung was right, that this was the only matter when you couldn’t see right through Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you reached Sully's marui, you spotted Tuk standing at the entrance, as if guarding someone. Upon catching sight of you, she ran up to you, grabbing your wrist.

“Y/N, Neteyam is hurt!” she exclaimed, “He won’t let me get mom to take care of him.”

“Is he alone?” you asked, following after her. She nodded, “Don’t worry, I’ll help him, okay?”

Tuk hung back at the entrance as you walked into the marui. Neteyam was sitting on the ground, shooting an annoyed look at his little sister. She quickly ran away, before he could even open his mouth.

“How come you never listen to me?” you started light-heartedly, approaching him.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you too busy taking care of Ao’nung?” he frowned at you.

You only shook your head, crouching down in front of him. He had wiped away the blood, but you could still see the cut on his wounded lip. It definitely stung when he spoke.

“I wanted you to come with us to Tsahik, why did you run away?”

“Didn’t want to interrupt your moment with him,” Neteyam answered through his gritted teeth.

You were confused by his sudden behavior. Sure, it might have been a little embarrassing to misinterpret the situation and react to it, but you wondered if there was something else bothering Neteyam. Was Ao’nung right? Without talking, you used one of his shoulders to rely on him, as you leaned in. Neteyam relaxed under your touch, letting you apply the medicine to his wounded lips without much protest. You let your finger graze over his face for a little longer before pulling away.

“Better?” you asked, earning a grateful nod.

As the sight of his bruised knuckles caught your attention, you immediately picked up his hand. He must have been furious, thinking he was protecting you from Ao’nung. Neteyam flinched, when you brought his hand closer to your face.

“Mawey,” you whispered, before placing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

He watched you quietly, trying to calm his breathing. You weren’t sure what exactly you were doing, but it just felt right to comfort him this way. To show him that you weren’t betraying him, that you wanted him to be safe. When you turned his hand for further examination of wounds, your fingers grazed over the small cuts and calluses on his palms. You guessed they were from his training, and your heart swelled a little with admiration at the thought. It was a reminder of Neteyam's dedication and strength, the very same reason why you started seeing him in a different light. You looked up at him, your eyes conveying your unspoken admiration.

“Why are you upset with me?” you asked softly.

“Because you chose him over me,” he mumbled, his tone offended, yet he allowed you to hold his hand in yours.

“I wasn’t choosing anyone. It wasn’t about picking sides.”

“But you did,” he shook his head, “Whether you admit it or not, your first instinct was to protect him.”

“You attacked him first, Neteyam. I was only defending my friend,” you tried to break through his stubbornness.

“I am your friend too,” he pursed his lips again.

"Well, I kind of hoped that you were more than just a friend," you exhaled, letting go of his hand.

Neteyam's mouth hung open in shock, and you wondered if he had picked up on the double meaning in your words.

"I don't understand," he sat up straight, his gaze fixed on you, "Are you saying that you don't want us to be just friends?"

"Yes,” you felt a wave of frustration washing over you, “You can be so dense sometimes. Has it ever occurred to you that I like you?”

Neteyam's face lit up with a smile, and he reached out to cup your face in his hands. 

"I could only hope for you to feel that way," he said, his eyes shining with pure happiness, “Oel ngati kameie, Y/N.”

“Oel ngati kameie,” you whispered, feeling tears of joy welling up in your eyes.

You had never cried out of happiness before, but in that moment, knowing that Neteyam truly saw you, the real you, and loved you for it, you couldn't help it. Neteyam let out a confused chuckle, but quickly gathered you into his arms, holding you close and comforting you, as you cried onto his chest. 

“I didn’t want to make you cry, silly,” he whispered softly into your hair, amusement evident in his voice.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

forgot that i had a taglist :'( i hope you guys still get the notification

@bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @jakes-babygirl @grierpilots @suntizme @jakesully-sbabygirl @mechformers @lovedbychoi @netemoon @avatarbyamara @live-laugh-neteyam @lovedbychoi @jakesullylongjuiscyshlong

[enchantedlandcoffee]

Hey guys! Happy 28th! As I couldn't do a december fic rec list, I thought I'd merge them into one so this will be a big one :)

---

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

"Are there any gays in here?" by @red-pandaaa | red_panda28

Explicit | 7.9k | Strangers to Lovers Or, Louis is fed up with meaningless hook-ups, Harry happened to visit Starbucks on a Wednesday, and Clifford is the best

You smile all the time ('cause how can you not show it)? by @thebreadvansstuff | thebreadvan

Explicit | 9.5k | Dentist Louis Or, Harry never liked dentists, until now.

Blue Moon by @aquietlarrie

Explicit | 152.9k | Alternate Universe - 1950s it’s the late 50’s. times are ‘simple’. rock n roll is in full swing. vinyl, music and dancing are the primary ways of entertaining yourself, and in a time where loving someone of the same sex is illegal, two strangers catch each other’s eyes across a dancefloor and do just that. over the span of a year and in between two cities, harry and louis happen to find each other at just the right time. through a hot and heavy summer and a bitter winter, their journey is one of self; self discovery, self-acceptance and self love. this is a story of navigating sexuality in a time where man and woman are the only accepted forms of love by law, where learning to hide your love for someone becomes a matter of survival and safety. a story where above everything, they stick together and weather the storm. its hard, incredibly hard, but no matter the road, it's one worth taking

Tangled in your love and light by @likelarryfics | likelarry

Explicit | 95k | Kid Fic, Alpha Louis Tomlinson, Omega Harry Styles Harry doesn't have time for romance or finding an Alpha between balancing work, studying and looking after his daughter, Bella. Enter Louis Tomlinson who's a romantic sweet Alpha, determined to win the omegas heart and turns Harry's whole world upside down, making him question everything he's ever wanted and known.

Lost Cat, Found Love by @wemadethishome

General Audiences | 4.5k | Established Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Mild Hurt/Comfort Louis hates cats. But when his neighbor's cat goes missing, he finds himself much more dedicated to finding the thing than he ever wanted to be.

The Wind It Held Us Up by @itsnotreal | hazzahtomlinson

Explicit | 14k | Alien Harry Styles, Scientist Louis Tomlinson Or Louis had a feeling there was life on other planets, he just hadn't expected to meet someone from one.

now i know what a fool i've been by @28goldens | 28goldensfics

Teen and Up Audiences | 16.8k | Enemies to Lovers, Christmas Fluff harry and louis had one really bad date last year. now they're snowed in at zayn's family's cabin alone the days leading up to christmas and louis' birthday. can they make up or will this be their last christmas together?

come as you are by @stylinsoncity

Mature | Alternate Universe - Academia, Professor Louis, Student Harry louis is a professor of literature at oxford and harry is his newest and most eager protege. both are caught in a story about forbidden love, loss and second chances, in which one is on the brink of heartbreak and the other comes along when he's needed most.

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @kingsofeverything

Explicit | 109k | Cheating, Older Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Alternate Universe - Beach, Meet-Cute Louis' life is steady and calm, moored by his marriage, and tied to his hometown, but after a chance encounter with another man, it'll never be the same.

Have Love, Will Travel by @kingsofeverything

Explicit | 97k | Camping, Friends to Lovers, Video Cameras Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series. It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there's something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

Probably still adore you (with your hands around my neck) by @lunarheslwt

Explicit | 13k | Persephone x Hades AU, Louis Tomlinson as Hades, Harry Styles as Persephone Or, after six cruel months of being separated, Persephone!Harry returns to his husband, Hades!Louis.

The Money Mark by @brightgolden

Explicit | 52k | Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Sugar Baby Harry Styles Or, where Louis is Harry's first sugar daddy who dumped him over text and their paths cross, seven years later.

Just You and I (a starry sky) by @justanothershadeofblue

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kay's 25 days of smutmas series by shiptattou | @wecantalktomorrow

---

Niall Horan/Zayn Malik

If You Leave Me by @hellolovers13

Explicit | 5k | Alternate Universe - Vampire Niall spends too much time in his own head, almost breaking his (and Zayn's) heart in the process.

[autisticlee]

i'm aroace, sex repulsed and don't get traditional romance or find the need for it, but I still often think how it would be neat to have a gf/partner for other purposes that arent romance and sexual. but it seems impossible to make someone want to date you if you take out those things????

sometimes I think it would be nice to have a gf to do cute gay cosplay photoshoots with. there would be mouth smooching and you usually can't do that with a friend and I don't really want to either, so a gf would be useful for that.

then there's hating showers because they exhaust me and it would be nice to have a gf to wash my hair and stuff for me??? can't call up a friend to do this every time I need to shower. that won't work and I doubt they'd want to/be comfortable doing that.

most friends will end up putting all their priority into their partner and/or family they create. I want someone that will make me their priority and not run off with someone else they start dating and abandon me??? something like that. their priority is cleaning our home together, hanging out together, going shopping and other domestic/partner stuff. they don't do that with someone else or use me temporarily until they can find a partner. so it's essentially dating/being partners. but it looks different from your typical expected romance and partnership.

doesn't matter how aroace I am, I have accepted that a relationship is beneficial in many ways and there's certain things that you can't expect friends to cover and they can't fill. but I have zero interest in looking for a partner in traditional ways that requires small talk/flirting/dates/etc. so that makes me realize i'll most likely not trick someone into partnering with me lmao

the internet seems to call this kind of thing "queer platonic relationship" (did I remember it right?) and you just need to find another sroace person to do it with. but either way, there's no textbook to study for how to get that and where to find these people. it seems harder than the puzzle that is regular dating tbh.

there's that saying "there's other fish in the sea" but i'm a worm in a puddle the other worms got out before they drowned. there's no fish here lmao. my options are so limited that I haven't met a single option yet in my life. there's barely any chance the first aroace person I meet irl will be compatible, or the first compatible person will accept a relationship with an aroace. you know what I mean? any other aroace that's interested in some kind of relationship/partnership and feel like you don't get that whole sea to choose from like everyone else and only have a dried up puddle? 😅

[barb-l]

A, R, U?

(🫶🏽 thank you for your support)

Oh man. I dont wanna sound like I'm tooting my own horn, but I genuinely find it hard to choose because I love my fics dearly. I enjoy writing so much, almost as much as I do drawing.

In no particular order, one of them is my Power Rangers 2017 fic Code Yellow. Idk if I've told her this(probably not cuz i dont much like to talk about my feelings) but the premise of Kimberly and the rest of the OG's being much older than the next rangers, with Kimberly serving as the next Yellow Ranger's mentor was inspired by my friendship with another PR fic writer(if you know unicorn affair then you know she's a legend). We became friends when I was like 17 and still relatively new to accepting my queerness, so getting to be friends with an older sapphic woman who was very kind, into the same things I was, and was in a loving relationship with another woman? It was very comforting and filled me with hope. Kimberly and Aisha's dynamic aren't the same as my dynamic with that person, but I can say that I projected a lot of my feelings over the warm comfort of having a friend that was like an older sister to Aisha.

I haven't made myself finish it yet, but I have hope I will even now years later. This is a snippet from my drafts

Another one is "Courtship Woes", the second part of a fic series for probably the craziest ship I've ever shipped, Wednesday Addams and Lydia Deetz from the musical version of Beetlejuice. It's a very different Wednesday from what a lot of you are probably used to in my Wenclair fics tho, as it's characterized as a mixture of Ms Ricci's version in the 90's movie and the animated version voiced by Chloe Grace Moretz. While I like to think of Jenna's Wednesday to be more like Morticia, I wrote this Wednesday to be a lot more like Gomez. So I guess I already have written a Gomezified Wednesday. Huh.

And, predictably, the other one is "raven in the den, wolf in the nest". I'm still really proud of what I've accomplished for this fic. The final chapter was especially very healing to write with Wednesday's confession affecting Enid's confrontation with Esther in the climax of the fic. The whole point of the Addams Family isn't the gothicness necessarily, but that they were supposed to be the topsy-turvy of what is conventional. It was one of the main points of that fic, with Morticia fainting over the thought of her wonderful spawn dating an adorable rainbow being the topsy-turvy version of the disapproving parent trope. That confession was supposed to go along with that theme too. In typical stories that involve monsters, the crux of that romance is the person's love of the other person despite them being a beast. But Wednesday isn't a typical girl. Loving a murderous beast would be what's expected of a grim girl like Wednesday, but the best thing about Wenclair is how they still keep the topsy-turvy theme for Addamses. Enid is insecure about not being the ferocious monster she's supposed to be, yet despite all odds Wednesday loves her regardless. She grew so dang attached to her even before Enid got the chance to shift and that's both so unexpected but makes so much sense of Wednesday Addams.

Fredrik Backman is my absolute favorite writer. The way he writes grief and loneliness alongside humor and love in his works is just phenomenal. It just saddens me that I do not understand a lick of Swedish and can only rely on the english translated copies, so I can't say that I fully know how he writes his prose as translations can only go so far. But I can say that the emotions he evokes in his writings is what I always try to strive for. To make my readers tear up as much as I could make them laugh. Or maybe more of the latter. Like a warm hug.

(also wow that's very wenclai--)

I apologize for cheating and choosing my OC's, but I think I'd want to actually write a fic with Vega and Sora someday.

[cannibalisticskittles]

alright so i talked about this way fucking more than i thought i was going to when i started, so this one gets a readmore for length. below the cut is just a bunch of thoughts on how amity views sex, and how astarion views sex, and how the relationship could’ve started just a bit differently in light of that.

when i do amity's astarion-romance run again, i am going to be extra analyzing everything. in general but also specifically with the aim of figuring out how likely an alternate start for amity's romance would be. don't get me wrong: i really don't think it would be out of character for amity to accept astarion's proposition(s) the way it all happened in-game; i wouldn't have gone ahead with it otherwise.

but. that doesn't mean that it's what she's most comfortable with. and given how astarion viewed this whole thing, and his complicated view towards sex....... it does make me wonder how things could've played out a bit differently. 

it is hard to not contribute to that sense of ‘sex as a tool/self as a tool,’ until he starts to unwind the skein of how he views sex and his own value and disentangle those concepts. and i think that having some intimacy with him, such that he believes you are going to trust and look out for him, builds some of the pathway to that mindset. not that he couldn't get to where he does in the game without that, but that it would take longer, and he might not be ready for that at the point when it happens. 

but wouldn't it be nice to… feed into that less?

plus it's a bummer! a bummer to be another time when astarion had sex with someone because he felt like that's what he had to do to survive, even if the circumstances are different and he didn't technically have to do that now; we know that that's how he felt about it still. and it's also a bummer to think that amity makes what is, for her, a pretty big personal step forward by deciding that yes, actually, it's probably okay if she's intimate with someone else when they are being very clear that they view this as a good thing, a thing they are interested in, a thing that would be fun for both of them…… only to find out later that, no, actually, there is trauma in pain wrapped up in this.

(she would probably also feel like, if she had been less wrapped up in her own head, she would have noticed that he wasn't truly enthusiastic and she could've avoided contributing to that sort of pain. she'd feel guilty for not declining.)

so, alright. first thoughts, focusing on amity. 

amity definitely has hang-ups with sex, but they aren't sex-specific. they're tied in with all the other hang-ups she has about her appearance and her value as a person and her mindset that romance and intimacy aren't something she can realistically expect to ever happen for her.

she has no view of sex as sinful; she's barely religious anyway, and oghma and gond genuinely would not give a shit. she doesn't view it as needing to only happen after marriage, or even within a committed romantic partnership; her own parents never married, and if they ever had any romantic inclinations towards each other, those were gone long before amity was old enough to perceive them. they're just work and business partners who happened to have sex and had amity as a result of that, and now they platonically co-parent well together (To Her. objectively they are both shit at being parents, but subjectively, amity believes they're good at parenting together).

those hang-ups are still there, though. being seen as Funny-Looking by all her peers, her appearance being taken as a sign of something infernal or demonic or otherwise non-specifically evil, and knowing that when she's disguised as a regular human, she gets a much warmer welcome – all of that feeds into an extremely strong belief that she is awful to look at and to be around (and thus she must preemptively make up for that fact by being as useful as possible to everyone around her). 

and then, when she's older and the family business is experiencing a boom and her father becomes part of parliament, she starts getting marriage proposals and propositions – sometimes from the same patriar shits that mocked her mercilessly as children, as though she could ever forget that. she has a tendency to forgive far more bullshit than she should, but there is no world in which she would ever believe that anyone, let alone these rich motherfuckers who made her life hell as a child, think that she's attractive now. (she would phrase that more kindly, but that's what it comes down to.) she knows it's just another play at power; she has money and status, and her father has money and status, and so a union with her is now seen as palatable. 

and it's awful. she wishes they'd just leave her alone. 

i imagine she has, sometimes, received a genuine proposition. she did get lightly flirted with during her first campaign, after all. but unless someone is exceedingly clear and direct with her, she is going to assume that they aren't actually romantically or sexually interested in her at all, and that it would be extremely presumptuous to think that. and the few who have been clear and direct about it came at times that were less than convenient. 

like hey, sorry, you are very nice, thank you for being direct, however, her party has been out in the wilderness for weeks and she was really looking forward to walking around athkatla at night for an hour or two, and then she has to speed back to her party so they can crack open a lich's skull, sorry! good luck… getting lucky with someone else tonight!

or… she just didn't want to. even if the timing is a bit more convenient, like if she's settled in one place for a few days or weeks and doesn't actually have anywhere else to be, she's going to have doubts. why on earth would a stranger approach her about this? why not someone… nicer to look at?? her self-esteem issues make her view the idea with extreme incredulity, and she'd turn them down. 

so. sex is not something she has any personal level of comfort with. 

secondly… look, amity isn't, like, wise. wisdom is famously her dump stat. (she actually has a higher strength score than wisdom score -- 9 vs. 8. it's bad.) 

she has a tendency to somehow still roll well on insight but she also doesn't know what the fuck to do with this information because it feels rude as hell to be looking for reasons to doubt what someone says. plus, even if someone thinks something different from what they say, they might be determined to act in alignment with their words rather than their thoughts. so amity has made the deliberate decision to nearly always take someone at their word, even if that means she lets herself be manipulated or lured into a trap, because she feels that demonstrating this form of trust is the Right and Good way to go about things. maybe it'll help them out. (she’ll just… carry around a knife and a rope so she can get out of situations like that if/when they go wrong.)

so she wants to take astarion at his word, and trust what he says. and yes, he propositions her, he's the one that brings up the idea. and, yes, he did make it seem as though it's something he's interested in. and yet….

is he, really? 

amity would have less doubts in this instance than she would in those cases where she was propositioned by a stranger – all that a stranger has to go off of is how she looks, and she knows that can't be a draw, so what the hell is it? but with astarion, well, they know each other better than that. not much better, mind you; they still hardly know each other at all. but they have fought in battles together, they're in the same boat regarding tadpoles in their brains and are working towards a shared interest. so, there isn't that same, immediate doubt as to why he's asking her; it's not her appearance, it's the fact that she's there. that's acceptable. that's logical. 

and yet. 

sex seems like a pretty big way to repay a favor. it's so intimate. so vulnerable. so… fraught with potential danger. so many ways someone could hurt you in those moments. 

(her mother, a cold, calculating, manipulative, Literal Actual Devil, made sure that amity was well-briefed in all the ways that vulnerability could fuck you over. amity chooses to ignore that most of the time, but she's still aware of those lessons. get lectured enough on all the ways you make it easy for someone to plunge a knife into your back and that lesson will stick with you.)

sure, she let him drink some of her blood, but that's not really that big a deal, right? it was hardly an inconvenience, she barely stumbled over her own feet the next day, anyway, and she could still mostly see straight when flinging spells. 

there is also the fact that she has extremely little experience with anything like this. she has never been in a real relationship. she has technically kissed someone/been kissed before – but like, as part of playacting with a childhood friend, or an adrenaline-fueled 'i can't believe we survived that' post-battle moment. never an intentional kiss. 

and. she's never had sex with anyone before. 

she doesn't put too much stock in the idea of The First Time, or view it with particular reverence; anything that can be done has to have a first time, right? but. first times don’t always go great. they're messy. flawed. and she's nervous! about her inexperience and about potentially fucking things up and being a shitty partner and ruining it for him.

now, amity has A Hard Time Saying No to people. and it is extremely hard for her to say no to someone when she wants to be useful and helpful and be on good terms with them. 

this situation is no different. astarion has made an offer. for all her trepidation, it is hard to refuse. and… he's very pretty, and they might all die suddenly and painfully and maybe it would be nice to not die without having had this experience. so it's not that she has no desire to do this, she's just… nervous!

so, she accepts. and then… tries to deflect. put it off. busies herself with setting up camp each night so there's never a free moment and then, oops, she's already asleep. or she just offers to let him drink her blood again when she sees him at night; maybe she can distract him enough for him to forget about the whole thing entirely. that'd be swell. at least, it would be preferable to feeling like she's somehow bartered sex from him by letting him feed on her. 

but he’s not going to forget about it. he needs to secure protection of some kind, and this is The Way He Knows How To Do That.

i'm not sure if i think astarion would lean more towards bemused acceptance of this, viewing it as just. an extremely slow seduction. earning her trust and her affection bit by bit, each time she lets him feed – and she does make that offer quite a bit, and my, how she shivers, how she squirms at the lightest touch on her face, her neck, her chin to reposition her. maybe he doesn't even feel the need to push it farther, even tho this isn't quite what he's used to; maybe she's just exceptionally easy to win over. that's less effort for him, overall. his midnight snacks double as reinforcing her interest in him. 

or, perhaps he'd be more annoyed by this, not thinking that anything is secure until he's put his full range of skills into use. all this… waiting for her to let down her guard more means that this is far more time and effort than he'd like to spend on this sort of thing, why on earth does she have to be this apprehensive? isn't that just his luck, for things not to go his way?

now, here's the other thing – for all her inexperience, i think amity would at least want to be an active participant. she wouldn't be content to, like, be lavished on, or have the majority of the attention on her. she'd much prefer it the other way around. 

and that's… not astarion's bag! not at this point! 

it does make me think of a dynamic where he expects to take things further, as is The Expectation That Has Normally Been Set For Him, gently pushing past mild protests of 'oh, you don't have to do that' (re: the 'you've done me a favor, and now i have a favor for you, xoxo' proposition [maybe a semi-pointed 'i don't have to do anything now, darling.' this time, it isn't at cazador's behest]) bc hey, he's gotta carry out this seduction; gotta secure that protection……… but then retracting when it becomes clear that she's eager to put the focus on him.

telling himself that drawing back is really for her sake because, after all, she said she's fine with that, and he supposes that listening to her builds her trust more, doesn't it? when it's really mostly borne from his discomfort at being vulnerable and the association with sex as a tool and the attention being on him… challenges that, juuuuust a bit. 

it ought to be, 'i do this thing for you, you are won over, you give me trust and protection.' he shouldn't need to have to… put on an act where he's lapping up the attention. it's too much. 

and, to be clear, i don't think that having someone want to focus their attention on him would be entirely strange to him; i'm sure some of his previous victims wanted to lavish him with attention. 

but. now is… just a bit different. even if he's not recognizing why he's feeling this way, the fact that he doesn't have to put up with something he doesn't want means he's subconsciously allowing himself to shy away from it, when he would previously (have to) put up with it as part of His Purpose For Cazador. 

so, he pulls back, and things stay intimate, for sure, but… there's less of that direct seduction.  and she speaks up for him when his vampiric nature is brought up, and she has no qualms with his feeding habits, so it seems to be going swimmingly, but it's still a bit strange. 

i think that could work. …my astarion romance scenes actually triggered at different times than they were supposed to so i'll have to keep all this in mind the next time i go through his romance, but these are the thoughts i've been having. 

anyway jesus this is four fucking pages and i don't really have a conclusion, uh. goodbye. 

[cheqorb]

off-script romance.

You’re both just in a fake relationship for both of your own benefits, nothing more is going on behind the scenes (and it’s definitely not actual love)!

featuring. reo, sae, kaiser

notes. can’t tell if kaiser is ooc or not, but i’m sure you guys are sick of my apologies so i’ll try to stop 😕 and wow, reading through this whole yap sesh must’ve been pretty painful. my condolences to you, dear reader.

As the heir to the illustrious Mikage corporation, REO knew, deep down, that a time would come when he'd have to step into his parents' shoes and take control of the company. And speaking of which, his parents seem to be growing increasingly more eager to see him settle down, constantly badgering him about finding a ‘suitable partner’ whenever he visited them.

However, his career of being a professional soccer player meant that he would probably only be able to see them if he played games in Japan itself, which rarely happened anyway.

He wasn’t an idiot; maintaining a relationship with his schedule would be practically impossible. His partner would certainly get tired of it after a few months, and he wasn’t keen on the idea of forcing them to travel with him to every single match.

Adding on to his worries, the thought of starting a relationship with ulterior motives (in this case, merely to appease his parents) left a bitter taste in his mouth. Reo’s not exactly the type of guy who wants to break someone’s heart over this. The man was stumped for once, until by some stroke of genius, you came into mind.

Though not particularly close by any means, you’d met enough times for him to recognise your face. Given, that you’ve already got status as an heir to your own family’s fortune, his parents should also approve of you. Besides, since you’re someone familiar with the expectations of living a life like his, surely, the life of being his significant other shouldn’t be too jarring.

────

For what seems like the first time ever, Reo stumbles over his words — his usually confident demeanor giving way to a sense of nervousness that was unlike the man. And in spite of his attempts (?) to mask it, it was clear that this weighed heavily on him, even more so than his usual bravado could conceal.

“So, I was hoping you could consider-“

His smile falters as you quickly interject, a curt “I accept” escaping your mouth before he could even finish his carefully rehearsed ‘proposal’. The relief in his eyes was unmistakable, though tinged with a hint of disbelief at your response. Rather than immediately celebrating, Reo’s expression softens a little.

“You,“ he pauses, “You don’t need to make your decision so quickly, I get that it’s a difficult thing to ask of you…”

“Yep. And I’m agreeing.”

────

In hindsight, maybe the arrangement had fallen a little too seamlessly into place? Maybe he should’ve been more concerned with how…eagerly you accepted being his fake partner without a moment's hesitation (it honestly freaked him out slightly). But ultimately, it solved his problem!

With you by his side, he could continue his career while still making his parents happy. Alls well that ends well.

Of course being the over thinker he is, Reo still has doubts but you reassure him that you’re perfectly happy to spend your days in comfort and go on luxurious vacations with your friends if he had matches coming up.

As luck would have it, you’re quite the lovely person yourself. Even if his parents aren’t there to see, you always go above and beyond to maintain appearances (he thinks that’s what you’re trying to do anyway?) and make sure he’s happy. Whether it was a home-cooked meal awaiting him after a long day or your being in the stands, cheering him on during matches, your seemingly genuine care for him just makes his heart flutter a bit.

I think Reo has a soft spot for sweet gestures that don’t really involve money.

On return, Reo finds himself taking extra care of you: making sure you’ve got nice clothes to wear, randomly calling you in the middle of the night, a slip of the tongue petname here and there. Just normal stuff you do for your fake lover!

────

Nagi could only only sigh (internally in his head, it’s too much work to actually sigh) as he watched his teammate picked up his phone for the umpteenth time this hour.

“Maybe they’re just sleeping..?” he offers, though it doesn’t seem to help very much.

“They haven’t responded to any texts, they won’t even pick up the phone…” the man laments, sulking in the corner of the room. “My dear (Y/N) could be in danger and if I’m not there to help them-“

A quick ding from his phone soon shoots Reo upright from his misery, a hopeful look now on his face. He only seems more giddy once he notices it’s a voice message too, he just loves listening to you speak! Your voice is always so— “Reo, please go to sleep, it’s late for you right now, isn’t it? Call me back in the morning, don’t you dare think of staying up to text me.”

────

Hm, does he really do that? Reo’s never quite noticed, or thought about it, because he’d rather spend his time wondering what gift he should get you for his next surprise visit back home!

SAE’s attitude and abrasive personality is definitely one of his manager’s least favourite qualities about him. The man’s hatred for interviews and meet-and-greets, coupled with his unabashed insults towards those he found irritating, posed a challenge for his (manager) public image.

While some die-hard fans may have been drawn to his aloofness in the first place, it’s hardly the ideal for sponsorship deals or modeling contracts that he’s worked so hard to get — only for Sae to completely ignore them.

His manager is also the one who entertains the idea of him entering into a relationship in the first place. Perhaps, he mused, a significant other could ‘soften’ his rough edges and make him more approachable to the public. Though he doubt the man would ever agree to such a scheme, he was a bit desperate now. Can’t hurt to give it the old college try, right?

────

The obvious heartbroken expressions of the people leaving the room, along with the unmistakable voice of the Itoshi Sae in the flesh, uttering the word ‘rejected’, did little to ease the growing pit in your stomach.

Finally, your name was called and you enter the room with as little flair/flamboyance as you could, no need to embarrass yourself more than you already will.

His bored expression does little to boost your confidence and you found yourself avoiding direct eye contact as you introduce yourself sheepishly. “Hello, uhm- it’s nice to meet you. I’m (L/N) (Y/N).”

────

There was something about your unassuming nature that intrigued him. You spoke about yourself with an honesty that bordered on indifference, almost as if you had resigned yourself to an inevitable rejection so you didn’t care how genuinely insane the things you were saying were. Like seriously, in college you went to a skate park drunk and came home with a horse?

But there’s one thing bugging him right now.

────

The words leave his mouth before he can even think of what he’s saying. “Look up at me.”

His request catches you off guard and you couldn't help but mutter an apology before reluctantly meeting his gaze. You feel weirdly self-consciousness whilst he stares at you (with luminescent green eyes) but thankfully maintain your composure until the end.

“—but, that’s all I can really say about myself. Thanks for listening and I wish you luck in finding one of the next candidates likeable!”

You flash him a smile, before swiftly getting up and exiting through the door without even letting him get a word in. Finally, that’s over with… You do feel a little bad for Sae though. Was he standoffish? Obviously. But hey, he was nice enough to listen to you rambling about everything under the sun so you at least hope he takes an interest in one of the people that comes in after you.

────

You almost forget about the whole fiasco since you believed you had created a lasting impression of someone who was most definitely not a good fit for a prodigy like him, as well as a bit of a weirdo. Imagine your shock at the email sent to you a few weeks later by his manager. To make a long paragraph short, you got the position! Well done?

Now, his manager arranged for the two of you to meet together for a first date to truly make sure this relationship would (at the bare minimum) allow you to be cordial with one another. If you’ve got a person like Sae on your hands, you learn to not expect things to turn positive.

His blunt and somewhat unnecessary remarks and stoicism could’ve easily derailed the evening, but to your credit, you held your own with decent resilience considering how timid you seemed upon your first meeting. Disregarding the occasional reaction at his words, you continue to be kind to him.

He’d never, ever, admit it out loud but he does feel a little guilty at how you just take his comments without complaint. Some form of annoyance from you would be expected, yet you only meet his words with a laugh or simply ignore them altogether — leaving him feeling unexpectedly unsettled. Also slightly questioning your self esteem.

You were walking out of a park when he was contemplating bringing the date to a close (he’s surprised he hadn’t done so earlier), before you suddenly bow your head with a smile on your face. One that really captivated Sae because of the actual, sheer sincerity in it.

────

“Thank you,” you say, and when he looks a little sceptical, you continue, “really. You’ve been nice to me even though I’ve just been talking your ear off this whole time, so I just wanted to say thanks for that. I liked today a lot, so- erm…if it’s not too much trouble, could we go on another? Date, I mean.”

With your words hanging in the air, he was at a loss for how to respond. Just what did you expect him to do after hearing that? Not decide right there and then that he wanted to give you the entire world and more?

(Sorry if this is extremely OOC of him)

Unlike the other two, KAISER’s situation can vary a little more. As in, his reasons for needing a pretend relationship can differ depending on anything. It could stem from dissatisfaction within his management, a desire to maintain his image, or simply on a whim. Regardless of the reason, you’re stuck with the bastard unless you want to lose all the money you get from doing this.

His arrogance is still hard to deal with, even though you thought you had steeled yourself for it beforehand. It doesn’t even seem to disappear even when the two of you are alone together; which by common sense, should be when you’re most comfortable with each other, no? He treats you like an accessory most times, but you can’t really complain if he’s the one paying your bills.

But, there are also times where his bravado feels forced, the occasional slip in his facade.

For better or for worse, you hesitate to say anything — not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You aren’t his actual s/o, you were getting paid as if the relationship was a career. Besides, would someone as overconfident as to call themselves ’emperor’ without cringing even want help from you?

If you’re the more compassionate type, you may just immediately cave in and try to help but even if you aren’t, it’ll be increasingly difficult to ignore him. One of these days, you realise he definitely doesn’t plan on seeking help himself.

Initially, he adamantly opposes any attempts of said help from you, making it clear he preferred to deal with his troubles alone or that he simply doesn’t need your help.

Your persistence is slightly alarming to Kaiser, who’s probably wondering if you’re trying to increase your allowance or something, but he still doesn’t give in (yet).

────

Suppressing a sigh, you turn on your heel after placing a cup of water and a modest plate of food on the coffee table. Another one of these nights again. Well, staying where you're evidently not wanted seems pointless. "Try to eat something before heading to bed, Michael. If you need anything, just tell me."

As you prepare to take a step forward, a sudden tug on your arm sends you tumbling to the floor.

Your assailant remains quiet, clutching your hand as if it were his lifeline. Awkwardly, you place your hand on his shoulder and try to engage him in small talk. Never have you ever thought you’d have to go on a ‘how’s the weather today’ rant in the midst of a possible mental breakdown, but here you are.

Though Kaiser doesn’t respond, he doesn't push you away either. It's progress of sorts, you suppose?

────

After a few more instances like that, there’s a gradual improvement in your relationship. Kaiser appears to be coping better with his emotions, even seeming happier than before. Good for him, you think to yourself when you notice it but it doesn’t exactly shock you. You figured that your dynamic with each other still wouldn’t change all that much.

You’d help him out whenever he needed you to, and both of you continue with your lives as usual. However, fate (or Kaiser himself) clearly had other plans.

For starters, he’s much more affectionate in private moments rather than it simply being for the media. He doesn’t do those elaborate displays like roses and gifts anymore — which you might think is a sign he’s growing more distant, but he remembers you saying you didn’t quite like it when there’s hundreds of cameras on you when accepting gifts like that. It’s more subtle, just how you like it.

There isn't a day that passes without him being by your side at some point in the day, either: resting his head on your shoulder, intertwining fingers, or wrapping his arms around your waist. Don’t forget there’s also the random pet names he bestows upon you. They aren’t at all cute or normal, but he doesn’t feel the need to explain the meaning behind them.

He genuinely cares if you’re around or not. Attending his matches had already become routine to you, it being necessary to maintain the image of being his supportive significant other but nothing beyond that.

While you never had the intention of not going anymore, you can’t help but notice Kaiser's new habit of personally inviting you to his matches. With a smug grin, he would insist on you showing up, emphasising how he wanted you in the crowd, cheering him on. Instead of receiving tickets through the usual channels (his manager, or whoever unlucky enough to cross paths with him that day), he likes to hand-deliver them to you.

────

With the crowd roaring in excitement, you figure it’s signalling the start of the match was close. What you don’t notice until it’s too late, is Kaiser's gaze finding its way to you. He takes a stride in your direction, his hand reaching out to gently lift your chin to face him.

Meeting his eyes, a questioning expression flickers across your features, as he lets out a dramatic sigh. Always so clueless, weren’t you. "Don’t you love me, (Y/N)?” he says with a uncharacteristic frown on his face, making it quite obvious that he’s pouting over something. Something you seem to do every time without fail nowadays.

“Well aren’t you greedy…” you mutter, before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

────

As you can probably tell, he’s more insufferable like this though.

[marjaystuff]

Guest Review:  The Swindler’s Daughter

The Swindler’s Daughter

Stephenia McGee

Revell Pub

May 2nd, 2023

The Swindler’s Daughter by Stephenia McGee is a compelling mystery mixed within a historical novel. Both the male hero and female heroine are put in dangerous situations with a villain that is multifaceted. 

“The theme of the book is what should people do when life does not turn out at all what they expect. For Lillian, nothing is as is seems.  The idea is that life throws curve balls, and how do people navigate those obstacles with hope and a sense of self.” 

Set in 1912 Georgia, the main character Lillian Doyle always believed that her father was dead and her mother his widow. That is until she receives notice that her father has just recently died and left her as the sole heir to his home and half his business. Deciding to travel to a small town in Georgia to settle her father’s estate and accept the inheritance she gets more than she bargained for including a family she has never met and an inheritance that brings dangerous problems. The longer Lillian stays in her father’s small town, the more intrigue, and mysterious events she encounters.

“The heroine is Lillian. She is quietly feisty but is usually stoic and reserved. She is outwardly tough, inwardly soft, vulnerable, thoughtful, and determined. While the hero is Jonah, a hard-working, determined, very responsible, and has the weight on his shoulders because he does not want to let those who depend on him down. He is also protective and loyal.”

After arriving in the small city of Dawsonville. Georgia, she finds a family already in possession of her father’s house, and some shady aspects about her father’s business including the business partner who wants not only the whole business for himself, but also the house. Having to navigate who is good and who is bad she discovers charming, loving people, and a cousin and an aunt she never knew. After meeting the current occupants of the house who suggest she becomes a business partner with them she contemplates about achieving her dream of independence. Realizing a decision needs to be made she makes the choice of becoming business partners with the family that includes Jonah, his mom Melanie, and his sisters. While trying to find the truth behind her father’s business dealings she also must deal with her superficial mother who tried to manipulate Lillian to get control over the inheritance. 

“Each mother had strong personalities.  His mom, Melanie, wants the best for everybody, and wants everyone to accomplish their dream, having the best at heart. She guides Lillian to make her dreams come true. Lillian’s mother wants the best for herself, all about status, what society thinks of her, and wants to build a life of comfort. Basically, she is a snob, uncaring, and selfish.”

Readers will be on the edge of their seats because of the cache of family secrets. The story also includes a sweet romance, historical details, mystery, and adventure. 

[flightofaqrow]

what’s the best thing about shipping for you?

do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship?

what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone?

is there a ship you wanted to play, but couldn’t yet?

shipping q&a ** accepting

what’s the best thing about shipping for you?

the aesthetic. i’m just a sucker for metaphor and motifs and allusions. the fandoms i get into are usually ones like RWBY or persona with multiple layers of lore. some elements. magic. symbolism. it’s fun to delve into with one character, and THEN you get to up the ante to another character, and their symbols, and the connections and dynamic between them. and then try to figure out how to capture all the intense emotions that go with a ship. how the symbols themselves work together and wrap together. 

it’s another level of character exploration and i’m here for it. it’s an easy way to reach those intense moments. 

we’re all just here playing paper dolls and it’s fun to make those puzzle pieces fit together. sometimes literally.

do you have a favorite memory when it comes to rping a ship?

i could probably pick something from my very first blog, but it wouldn’t mean anything to people here. when it comes to rwby? i... it feels like a cop out but i have so many i really don’t think i could pick. i like when your Salem confided in qrow about her magic. i like when Barty snuck up and stole teenage qrow’s heart in mutual outcast-ness. i like how Clover’s persistent need to love and Winter’s absolute refusal to is shaping qrow now. i love the hurt/comfort that has gone on with a couple glyndas in the past. i love qrow and Robyn’s all night diner and 3am ice cream dates. i love how qrow, Avros and Briar all managed to find each other and create a family. i love Libra being the first muse around here to make qrow feel safe and comfortable, the first to make him fall in love.

not to mention anyone developing with Briar.

i have a lot of good memories with ya’ll. ;w;

what’s something that immediately turns you off from shipping with someone?

not respecting my headcanons!! i repeatedly make known how grayromantic and romance-repulsed my qrow is (until he’s not). i’ve had people agree to fwb or something, but then expect something deeper, or make jokes about how they’ve been in love the whole time. or just want super fluff. 

qrow has problems!!! ones that make him a very poor partner at most points in his storyline for most people!! if you’re not willing to work the muses through that, then we’re not on the same page, and it feels very forced (and possibly uninteresting) to me.

is there a ship you wanted to play, but couldn’t yet?

more polyships, please. 

[saturnrevolution]

Pluto in your chart - isolation and transformation

by saturnrevolution

Pluto in the 1st house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from who you actually want to be. You might find yourself getting lost in what others expect of you, your fears and insecurities out of comparison or feeling like you are in a competition with others. This makes you forget what it is that you actually want and overidentify with what others want, even if clearly that's not your path. You will attract people that will mirror these traits to you, they will ignite your fears and make you uncomfortable in order for you to actually get to know yourself better and only search for the power you have within, not the external one.

Pluto in the 2nd house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from your own worth. You might have felt like you need to make yourself small in order to please everyone and your self esteem might have been affected in childhood. You might have felt like things were taken away from you, so this makes you want to react emotionally whenever you feel threatened or owned. This process of isolation teaches you, in time how much you actually need to be there for yourself and transforms you into understanding that you worth does not depend on any external possession or owning.

Pluto in the 3rd house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from communicating. Maybe this means isolating yourself from communication with people in your immediate environment or maybe it just means that you do not share your feelings and rather keep it in your head. You might have moments when you are very private with the things you say. This will happen until you realize how powerful your words can be and how you should not shy away from their intensity. You will experience moments when your words are challenged by others in order to speak up and let out the things that you have been holding onto for too long.

Pluto in the 4th house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from your family or home. Maybe you feel like you need to detach from these or you do not let others know personal things about your family. Sometimes, you do not allow yourself to build stronger connections with people that can potentially become your family. This is happening because you have some past fears and traumas from childhood. Maybe you felt hurt and left out, which makes you not want to experience that again. You are going to meet people that help you open up until you go through these transformative moments which do show you the importance of a home and how much you actually need connection.

Pluto in the 5th house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from indulging in the things that give you pleasure. This can be your hobbies, going out or sparking a new romance. Maybe you had to go through some tough times related these topics and you do feel like you are not good enough or like you are too intense and you are scared to let things get out of your control. There is beauty in you and you will go through transformative experiences that help you appreciate the play in these areas of your life in order to understand how special and talented you actually are and how much love you deserve to offer to yourself first in order to receive from an external source.

Pluto in the 6th house

You might have longer periods of time where you isolate yourself from your coworkers or you are private with your work, you might also simply not care too much for your routine or your health for extended periods of time. On the long run, this might bring up some past issues connected to the way you approach your everyday life and the love you have for your body. When that happens, you will realize how important it is to nurture yourself and work on balancing things out physically and mentally. This will bring a powerful transformation which will improve the way you approach your body and your work environment and you will work on being more vulnerable to get the best experiences here.

Pluto in the 7th house

You might have longer periods of being single or being in a long term relationship and isolating yourself from other relationships in your life. You might feel like you do not need these type of relationships in order to be whole, sometimes just platonic relationships or just being with only your partner or simply by yourself is enough for you. These longer periods are highly transformational and teaching you how to find love within yourself, but also when the isolation is gone, they teach you the satisfaction you can get from interaction. You might also ignore other's projections of you only to realize that they have been mirroring your behavior all along which instigates change within you.

Pluto in the 8th house

You might have had longer periods of time where you ignored or just took a break from building deep emotional connections or you just didn't focus a lot on your mental health. Also, you might have felt like you are independent and you do not need to share your resources with anyone or you don't need anyone's help. These periods are the ones that transform your vision and that actually help you be more in tune with your emotions. This teaches you that vulnerability and looking deeper is important for self discovery and for your soul. Once you see how it feels to be lonely, you understand that you do not need to depend on others to be happy, but you do need their help every once in a while.

Pluto in the 9th house

You might have had longer periods of time where you felt like you were living a lot in your immediate environment, maybe not travelling or postponing new experiences for the sake of comfort. At the same time, maybe you needed to pursue education, school or university by yourself and in your own way or maybe you didn't opt for any of these. In reality, you need periods of isolation in this area of your life as they teach you to be in solitude with your own thoughts, so that when you are ready to form and share your beliefs with others, you will do so more intuitively and from a place of self awareness. These isolation periods are major periods of spiritual transformation for you.

Pluto in the 10th house

You might have experienced longer moments of isolation in your career - maybe you postponed making your career an opportunity or maybe the circumstances were blocking that. Also, you might have taken breaks in between jobs or feel as if you are not quite on the right track for more than just a few weeks. These periods of loneliness in this particular area are teaching you how to not depend on external sources, but also bringing in beautiful transformative experiences that you couldn't have had if you didn't take time to reflect. They teach you about what it is that you're ready to accept career wise and what you will not sacrifice for. Isolation might feel intense at the time, but it saves time for the right opportunities to come your way.

Pluto in the 11th house

You might experience longer periods of isolation from your friends or groups of people. You might have had longer moments when you were a hermit and needed to spend time with yourself and recharge. This happens because you had some past experiences that hurt you and you feel as if you are better off by yourself. In reality, the area of friendships and groups of people is one that you learn a lot from and one that's very transformative for you. The time you take away from everyone offers you a fresh outlook on life and gives you the energy you need to stand out in groups of people and actually realize that the friendships you have are something you need and crave and how deeply cared you are for in these relationships.

Pluto in the 12th house

You might experience longer periods of isolation from going for what it is you wish for. You might convince yourself that it's impossible to reach the things you put your mind to, due to the fact that you had to go through rough times which to you always seem to prevent you from moving forward. In reality, all those difficult experiences you had are transforming you into the best version of yourself and slowly getting you closer to your dreams, even if it does not feel like so. Your past and circumstances are not defining you, but they are leading you to greater things and for you, empathy and compassion for yourself is one way to reach them.

[pwarkluv]

❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js

park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words 

WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(

SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!

whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes. 

they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. 

but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went. 

jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.

the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.

they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).

see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.

but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.

people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside. 

❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞

love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least. 

jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.

and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.

he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.

if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit. 

he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life. 

now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.

and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways. 

he just wanted to be loved. 

jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal” kids in his neighborhood. 

jisung wanted that, craved that. 

but most importantly, the boy wanted love.

❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

everything hurt. 

his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.

jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs. 

he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.

-

wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home. 

now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in. 

the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.

your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind. 

-

jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself. 

if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option. 

grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.

“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty. 

but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.

“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard. 

“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.

the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.

“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.

“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do. 

jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him. 

“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.

-

the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.

jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.

you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there.  what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.

it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up. 

the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.

jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on. 

❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞

the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.

if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind. 

“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing. 

“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window. 

jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room. 

❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.

“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.

“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention. 

isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along. 

[mrpenguinpants]

Bennett: Affection HCs

I KNEW I HAD THIS ASK IN MY INBOX AND I JUST READ BENNETT’S BIRTHDAY LETTER TO YOU SO I SAID FUCK IT. I’M WRITING THIS. I MAY HAVE 2 FICS IN THE PROCESS BUT I CARE ABOUT BENNETT SO MUCH. 

---

Xiao Ver: Affection HCs

Bennet: Windblume Love Letter HCs

[Masterlist]

—

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

 @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @nonniechan @htnicayh @genshins1mpact​ @morthecreator​ @ aanne2601 @aklxojjk​ @fulltimeventisimp​ @hanniejji​

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Bennett: Affection HCs

Bennett has so much love and affection to share but he’s also so shy and awkward in his delivery. It’s so endearing that you can’t help but but try and stifle your giggles lest he get more embarrassed. He just get’s so nervous since this is his first relationship and he knows his track record on luck isn’t super bright so he’s always fumbling. Trying to force his nerves away when he wants to hold your hand but as soon as he reaches out to lace your fingers, you’ll turn around, and Bennett throws his arm back so hard that he accidently pops his shoulder out of his socket. While you’re fretting over him he’s trying to reassure you that he’s completely fine and that this happens all the time. Which isn’t very comforting, he thinks things could have been worse. What if he accidently slips and drags you down with him or even worse, his pyro vision acts up and he has sweaty hands? He’s screaming internally at that.

Bennett totally reads romance novels to get a better understanding on what a relationship is like but his execution is a bit questionable. He tries to be suave and attempts to wrap his arm around your shoulder but he accidently slips halfway and he’s fallen into the fountain. But when he hears your barely contained chuckles as you try and help him out, he can’t help but feel a flutter in his chest that he doesn’t mind the unlucky accidents that happen to him if it makes you laugh. He’ll shake the water out of his hair and grin at you before he takes your hand in his and you both go back to the church to dry him off.

Whenever he sees you he has to take a couple minutes to calm his heart. Even when he’s out with Fischl and she’s talking in her special way, as soon as he catches sight of you, he’s sighing in adoration with the love-sick puppy eyes. That’s when Fischl knows she’s completely lost Bennett and you’re probably behind her. She sighs out a bit exasperated as she shrugs before she’s dragging him to meet up with you. No matter how red Bennett gets or what he’s yelling, Fischl has a death grip on him and grins smugly before she calls out your name to let you know someone’s got heart eyes for you.

While he’s extremely grateful to the Adventures guild and Mondstadt, having you beside him really hits deep. That you accept and love him despite the unlucky streak he has. You are so special in his eyes and the fact you choose to stay with him makes him sniffle a bit. Somedays he wakes up and can’t help but feel the rush of happiness he feels just being able to see your smiling face. He might get poked fun from his Dads but it’s completely worth it. It’s actually really wholesome when Bennett wants to introduce you to his family since they already know plenty about you because Bennett will literally not shut up about you.

The praise he receives from his dads and Katherine make him grin happily but when you praise him, he ends up growing so shy and pink. Awkwardly scratching at his cheek as he says it wasn’t that big of a deal just because he wants to hear you praise him more. He’s pretty hard on himself so your words really mean a lot to him. Likewise, Bennett is super optimistic. He’s your #1 cheerleader and it’s contagious adopting his positivity outlook on life. Whatever you’re interested in or wish to do, he’s fully on board and supportive.

He’s always coming back from his adventures with scraps and cuts that it really concerns you when Bennett shakes his pain away. He’s always had a head-first battle tactic that’s not easy to change in one day, so instead you ask Barbara to teach your some healing abilities or tips to try and help him out a bit. While you’re a bit clumsy and not as well-versed as Barbara. Bennett still hugs you with so much force as he exclaims he’s never felt so empowered before.

When Bennett feels sad, he’ll lean his shoulder against yours and close his eyes. Slowly moving down until it’s his head against your arm. He stays there before you reach over and place his head in your lap and slowly run your fingers through his hair. It’s a small and ordinary moment but it means the whole world to Bennett.

Bennett always keeps whatever you give him in a special pouch, from a small slip of paper wishing him luck to the small four leaf clover you gave him, it’s always on him whenever he sets out. He knows that despite his best wishes, you can’t spent every waking moment together and he doesn’t want to endanger you with his bad luck on more dangerous expeditions. He actually full on bawled when you said you wanted to join the "Benny's Adventure Team" and actually stuck around even after all the unfortunate incidents that happened. But whenever he’s far away from Mondstadt, away from you, he’ll take a small break and go through the small trinkets you’ve given to him with the softest smile as he handles them with care. They are his treasures after all.

It’s been a rather challenging adventure today. Bennett and you took on a commission to investigate a hilichurl camp on Starsnatch cliff only to run across an Eye of the Storm instead. While you both managed to defeat it, you both got your fair share of cuts from the anemo winds and the hard ground when you had to dive away from the orb crashing down. You’re silently thanking yourself for taking those lessons from Barbara as you’re trying to patch him up. 

“Sorry, I didn’t expect an Eye of Storm to appear instead. I guess my bad luck is spreading again,” Bennett chuckles awkwardly to himself as he winces a tiny bit at the throb of his cuts. You simply shake it off as you try and gently place the cloth back on his cheek to wipe away the small amount of blood. You’re just happy that you both managed to get away from that monster without any serious injuries. 

“Don’t say that Bennett, we defeated it didn’t we? That’s one less problem for the Adventures guild right?” you say as you smile encouragingly at him. He nods in silent agreement but his eyes rake over the cuts and on arms and knees and he can’t help feel sadden. He gently pushes your hands away from his injury's as he opens his own pouch that carries his adhesive bandages to place upon your scrapes.

“Bennett?” you question. You’re so used to the happy go lucky Bennett that this sudden quiet atmosphere looms above you as Bennett quickly returns the favour. It’s only when he takes a small moment to scan your body for anything he missed before he takes your hands in his. Rubbing small circles over your skin, whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself into speaking you’re not entirely sure. 

“There’s a dream I want to tell you about. I want to find the most valuable treasure to give back to Mondstadt and get our Adventures guild to become the biggest branch in Teyvat. That way my Dad’s can take a break and we can go adventuring all over the world. We can go visit Fischl at her home or take Razor to see the ocean!” he grins happily at you as his eyes light up in such a way that it takes you a few moments to register what he’s saying. You can feel such a rush of love pour into your system at his wholesome dream that you can’t help but clutch his hands closer to yourself. 

“I’ll stay beside you the entire time and I promise we’ll make your dream a reality. Benny's Adventure Team will be the greatest adventure team there ever was,” you lean forward and boop your nose against his, “But you need to take better care of yourself first mister.”

“Now come on. Let’s go home together Bennett,” you smile down at him as you stand up and extend your hand out to him. It takes a few moments for Bennett to act as he gazes up at you. The hand that’s been placed in front of him as support in so many of his unlucky incidents, covered in the bandages he carries around from the family he cares about, the hand that is still there after everything. Bennet knows he’s always been unlucky. That’s just the way it is. He’s always running on what drops of luck he can grab and live life to the fullest but right now. Even with the dull stings of anemo winds on his cheeks, the throb of new bruises he’s probably developing, he reaches out and takes your hand. He’s never felt luckier in his entire life.

---

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go gag on the sugar I just wrote. I may have strayed away from the affection hcs but I care about Bennett and his character stories cripples me. I had to re-write this so there are some issues but I’m tired. Either way, Happy birthday best boy 💕💕💕

[lemonjoonah]

Wrapped Together (M)

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

| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |

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

...

-5 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you been doing this long?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So we're in the same boat?” 

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

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

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

“Yes, thank you so much!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, they don’t!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

“Even the gift cards?”

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

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

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

“You’d be willing to show me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That I could drive?”

You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time. 

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

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

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

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you like it there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

“Hey, how was work?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-2 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

“I’ll be fine.”

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

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

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

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

“What was that about?”

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

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Namjoon nods looking down with guilt. 

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

“What? No, of course not.”

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

“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.

“Boyfriend?” 

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

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

...

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

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

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

“Buying art for the museum are you?”

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

“Not because you would love a drive?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

KNJ: Are you awake? 

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

YN: Yeah, everything okay?

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

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

YN: They’re chestnuts.

KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔

YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥

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

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

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

“And let me guess, a prince?”

“You know it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?” 

“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”

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

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

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

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

“Eleven okay with you?” 

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A win-win.” 

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

“Which do you prefer more?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“What, what happens now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? You would do that?”

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

“What are you doing-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

“You make it sound so easy.” 

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

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

“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm. 

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

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

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

...

-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

“No, not at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t even begin to thank you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-2 Days Until Christmas-

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

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

The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.

KNJ: Just pulling in.

YN: Be right down.

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

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

“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Valerie...” Eric growls. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, does she- do they-”

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

“Why would he be cautious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Find any new prodigies?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pull your hand free and race to the exit.  

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

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

“Not without you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How-How do you know about that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-Christmas Eve- 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s the holiday sea-”

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now is not the time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about all the supplies?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-One Year Ago-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But we have plenty.”

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

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

“Of course. Any preference on paper?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad I could help.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

“Then the museum exhibit-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

“Did you make these?”

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

“I’m glad she did.”

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

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

“Beer okay?”

“Perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re like the snowflakes-”

“A paper thin plot full of holes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want that too. I want you.” 

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

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

“I do, but I also want to last.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[golden-pickaxe]

Coffee (Part 5)

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Modern AU, Office AU

Wordcount: 3619

Warnings: reader drinks wine casually

[Coffee - All Parts Here]

A/N: Here is part 5!

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls @mootiemoose​ @istorkyou @dini73​ @heavenly1927​ @hashimily​ @peakywitch​

Summary: You are a graduate student at the University of Oslo, and have applied for a job as a personal assistant at the Lothbrok Corporation, without really knowing much of the position advertised. When it turns out you are going to work for the (in)famous Ivar Lothbrok, your whole life is turned up-side-down.

With Ivar just wearing a t-shirt, instead of his usual well-cut suits, you could very clearly see the strong muscles in his arms, as you watched him pushing his wheelchair out of the pedestrian zone, towards the street. You had to swallow at the sight, hating yourself for the effect this man had on you.

 You walked along side him, finally realising what you had done. Just like a year ago, when the coin had dropped that you had really applied at the Lothbrok Corporation, it now dropped that you had just accepted his invitation to come to his home and let him cook for you. Him, one of the most influential businessmen of Norway. With his own fucking Wikipedia site.

Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest at the thought, and you bit your lower lip, not quite knowing what this whole thing would mean now. And if it would change anything between you. You hoped not, but in the same way, you did hope.

 Getting your private life mixed up with your job probably was not a good idea. On the other hand, this whole situation kind of freaked you out, but in a good way. It was exciting.

 You and Ivar had reached the street, next to the national gallery, where a few minutes later the taxi arrived. Personally, you would never get a taxi in Oslo, as it was just insanely expensive, but with a lot of public transport, such as the tram you had taken to get here, not entirely being accessible to someone in a wheelchair, you could understand why Ivar had called it.

 Ivar maneuverered himself into one of the back seats, while the driver put his chair into the trunk of the car. You felt Ivar’s blue eyes watching you, as you rounded the vehicle to get into at the other side.

Even though he always successfully overplayed it, you saw that he was a bit self-conscious about his legs, often cursing them underneath his breath when they once again got into his way. He could move them a little bit, and also seemed to have some feeling in them, was even able to stand up for a few moments, if he could support himself with his arms. But in general, they did not really seem to be working.

In the office, Ivar hated to use his wheelchair, often just dragging himself from his desk to his sofa, his immense upper body strength enabling him to pull himself up with not much of an issue.

 Now, sitting next to you in the taxi on the way to his apartment, he readjusted his legs a bit with tight lips, appearing a bit nervous once more. You still could not quite wrap your head around what was happening right now, it all felt a bit like a dream to you. Just so, you managed to resist the urge to pinch yourself.

 Your boss, your grumpy boss, the infamous Ivar Lothbrok had just casually invited you to go out for coffee with him, had questioned you about almost every aspect of your life, paid for your drink, and now took you to his home to cook for you. It almost sounded like a very bad rom-com, like a romance story some bored, lonely woman would think up. Not that you expected it to end that way, of course. Even if you honestly wished it would.

 Until now, even if you sometimes chatted on business trips, your relationship had been purely professional, and you had only been over to his flat once, when you had brought him a set of suits to his home, when there had been issues with his dry cleaner. It had not really surprised you, finding out that he also lived in Majorstuen, actually not very far from you, although it had been a stress factor for you. Of course, he did not live in one of the old buildings, like you did, with paper thin walls, no elevator and wonky doors, no. He lived on the top floor of one of those new, fancy apartment buildings, costing a few ten-million krona, overlooking Frognerparken.

 When you had brought the suits up to his apartment, you had also met a famous Norwegian actor in the lift, so it was clear what kind of people occupied the other flats of the building. You had never been inside his home, had only delivered his suits to his door, but even the entrance and the lift had been very fancy and expensive looking. Admittedly, you had taken a stupid selfie in the mirror of the lift and posted it to Instagram.

 As Aker Brygge was, as stated, not far from Majorstuen, the drive was quite short, and the few minutes of silence were only broken by far too relaxing music coming out of the car radio. The taxi stopped in front of the apartment building Ivar lived in, and he paid the driver, while you got out, retrieving Ivar’s wheelchair from the trunk. You set it up and positioned it next to the car, for him to climb into.

 Ivar clenched his jaw a bit, obviously annoyed at something, even though you were not quite sure what exactly it was that he was annoyed by now, only hoping that it was not you. Well, at least you would have not far home now.

Ivar climbed out of the car, moving himself over to sit in his chair, before unlocking the breaks and rolling towards the door of the building, while the taxi behind you departed.

 Just as you remembered, the entry hall of the apartment complex was very posh, and you were reminded that this was a completely different world from yours. A different world from your shitty apartment, where you could hear almost every conversation your neighbours were having, and where you had push your full body against the bathroom door to get it to close properly.

 Following Ivar to the lift, the two of you got in, and Ivar pressed the button of the top floor. As soon as the doors had closed, Ivar’s eyes were on you, mustering you intently. His gaze was a tad intimidating, you had to admit, once again looking like a predator looking at his prey. Still, you managed to look back with a smile.

 “Are there any things you don’t eat, before I work my magic?” he asked, a smirk on his handsome face. You had to laugh at his choice of words, but told him about any dietary restrictions or things you didn’t like, and Ivar nodded.

 “Alright. I think I know what to make, then.” He leaned back in his chair a bit, biting how lower lip, a move that made your knees feel very weak.

 “Thank you.” It came out of your mouth, earning a very surprised expression from Ivar.

 “What for?” he asked honestly a bit confused, tilting his head at you.

 “For the coffee. And for inviting me over, and for cooking.” You studied his face, hoping to find something there, something that would give up his intentions, something revealing why he was doing this. You just needed to know, needed to know if you could get your hopes up or not. Was this really just a social call because you had been working for him for a year now, or was it something else?

 “Thank me after you’ve tasted my glorious food! Then I will gladly accept your thanks.” Ivar winked, and the elevator doors opened. Ivar left the lift, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he stopped at his front door.

 His flat was the only flat up here, and you guessed it had to be gigantic, covering the whole top floor. You were sure, his flat probably also had a roof terrace.

 You had to admit, this was another thing you found kind of intimidating about this man. The sheer amount of wealth he had, the wealth his family had. While you lived in a flat share with an old kitchen and horrible, tiny bathroom, with just a wet room and not even a proper shower, he lived in this extremely modern, borderline futuristic building, overlooking Oslo.

 Ivar opened the door, and pushed himself into the flat, with you following close behind, walking past him before he closed the door again behind you.

 Obviously you had imagined this place to be huge and expensive, but what you were seeing in front of your eyes was just.. something else.

It was less of a normal flat, and more of a large loft, most of the rooms merged into one big space. There was, similar to his office, a gigantic glass front overlooking the famous park, and West Oslo. The sun was still in the sky, the sunset not being for another one and a half hours or so.

 In the centre of the room was a big, beautiful white sofa, the kind where one could just stretch out like a starfish and not fall down. In front of it was a coffee table made out of driftwood and glass, the dark wood in stark contrast with the sofa. On the right of it were large, metal, urban looking bookshelves, filled with many thick books, some leather bound and old looking, dividing the living area from the ‘bedroom’, and there were a few doors opposite of the windows, that seemed to lead into extra rooms, probably the bathroom and other rooms.

 Behind the bookshelf you could see a large bed at the wall, so large in fact that you were sure that it could comfortably fit three to four fully grown people. It was covered and surrounded in white and grey furs, sheep and reindeer as far as you could tell from the distance. Furs also covered parts of the marble floor of the flat.

 There were many more furs on and in front of the sofa, and in general it seemed that grey, white and black, together with different shades of brown were the only colours in the whole apartment, making it look very sophisticated.

 On the left-hand side was a giant, very modern kitchen, seemingly equipped with everything a cook could wish for, with a large kitchen isle and a big table in front of it, a rustic looking piece of furniture, made of wood and carved with beautiful knot patterns, probably hand made by a very skilled Scandinavian carpenter knowing a lot about medieval woodcarving.

 The kitchen itself, you noticed, was lower than what you were used to, and while it confused you for a moment, you quickly realised that it was built so that Ivar could easily reach everything from his wheelchair, without having to get any help.

 “Welcome to my humble home.” You heard Ivar’s voice behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You swallowed and turned to him, looking at him as he watched you with a knowing smile on his lips.

 You could not hold back a laugh.

“Humble?” you simply asked, slipping out of your shoes and walking further into the big room, looking around.

 The whole flat was modern and elegant, yet had such a rustic and clearly Scandinavian aesthetic, it was truly impressive. Whoever was the interior designer, was truly a genius, and showed an amazing appreciation for medieval Scandinavian design. Similar works you had only seen in the Folksmuseet in Bygdøy.

 The walls that were not made out of glass were covered in picture frames, displaying either old Viking artwork or photographs of Norway and Iceland, of runestones and old temples. Somehow, it fitted in perfectly with the rest of the decoration.

 There was a door in the glass front of the flat, leading out, just as you had assumed, onto a large roof top terrace, furnished with even more rustic, wooden, and probably handmade tables and chairs, and, as cliché as it sounded, a beautiful hot tub. It was built into a frame, reminding you of a Viking ship, with a set of carved stairs leading up to it, probably so that Ivar had an easier time to get in and out of it, without requiring any help.

 “Alright, I admit, not so humble.” Ivar chuckled. “It was a present from my father when I started to officially work in the company. He had his friend Floki and his wife Helga design and build this whole thing.”

 That made you turn around to him once more. You knew these names.

“The Floki and Helga?” you swallowed.

 Floki and Helga were very, very famous, highly awarded architects and designers, often hired to design important landmarks and museums. Houses planned by them costing up to a hundred million kronas. They were famous for being able to combine the traditional aesthetics of their ancestors with the modern designs of this century, creating masterpieces that were rewarded all over the world. Now, looking around Ivar’s loft once more, it seemed obvious that this was their handy work.

 “Yes, The Floki and Helga.” Ivar chuckled. “The two of them almost raised me when I was a kid. With my parents busy all the time and me being bound to.. this.” He gestured at is chair. “Floki made all the wooden furniture himself. I am very lucky.”

 “Indeed you are.” You shook your head, unable to believe what you had just heard.

 Obviously, he had been raised by the two of them. Obviously, they had made his home for him, being like family to him, and being friends of his father, the most powerful businessman in Norway, and probably even all of Europe.

By now, you wouldn’t even question, if Ivar casually told you that he was descended from Odin.

 Ivar just shrugged at your words, although the expression on his face was a mixture of amused and pride. He bent down to slip out of his shoes, before moving his wheelchair over to a spot next to the door, where another wheelchair was waiting for him, this one looking a bit different, similar to the ones used by disabled athletes. Easier to navigate and probably a bit more comfortable. Ivar heaved himself up from his chair, navigating himself into the other one, a sigh leaving his lips.

 “I don’t fancy the dirt from the streets in my home.” He explained at your confused face, before he pushed himself towards you.

Oh yes, that made sense. Just as both of you had taken off your shoes, it would only be logical for him to also ‘change wheels’.

 A faint smile was on his lips, as he looked up and into your face, his expression soft and open, something you were not quite used to from him. His body language was relaxed too, his arms simply resting in his lap, as his head was once again tilted slightly.

He was truly a beautiful man, you had to admit. It was difficult to ignore, and sometimes you caught yourself staring in meetings, hoping that no one had noticed how your eyes had been practically glued to your boss. Solveig had made fun of you even more, when you had told her about it.

 “I think I’m going to start to cook now, before we starve to death. So, sit down, get comfortable.” He winked at you, before moving his chair towards the kitchen, in the process letting the wheelchair roll a bit, while he pulled his long hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. “Or would you like to help?” he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow, looking at you from underneath his long eyelashes. You had to swallow.

 “Well, I am still your personal assistant. So, I will assist you.” You smiled, following him into the kitchen. You hoped that reminding yourself that you were still his employee would calm your nerves.

 “I had hoped you’d say that, dove.” There it was again, that nickname. Your nerves were certainly not calm now.

 Ivar started to pull out pans and a cutting board, gesturing at the fridge for you to take out certain ingredients and washing them in the sink.

 You were not entirely sure what he was going to make, but you were positively surprised that his fridge and his whole pantry was stocked very well. You had to admit, you had taken him for one of those bachelors who had never touched their kitchen in their lives, and with all the money they had always ate out.

 But, as Ivar casually explained while you were preparing food, he enjoyed cooking for himself, and did so almost every evening.

While you were washing some vegetables, and he was skilfully cutting up an onion, he casually told you about the cooking schools he had visited when he was younger, and about the occasional dinner parties he threw for his close friends and family, where he cooked up five course meals for them all by himself. He moved around his kitchen as if he knew every millimetre of it, knowing the layout like the back of his hand.

 You enjoyed this far too much. You rarely saw Ivar this casual, only on business trips when he was not in the mood to talk about work anymore. And though you did not like to admit it, you were keen to know more about his personal life, to know more about the man behind the name Lothbrok.

 It was nice to see him here, in his home. He seemed so at ease, so open, the usual anger and annoyance he often seemed to carry around with himself in day-to-day life completely absent in this moment. This was his space, where he did not have to worry, to think about what upset him.

 This flat truly seemed to be his place, and his place alone. His kingdom far from the influence of other people. Here he was himself, independent of everyone else, everything built in a way that he did not need help from other people.

 Whatever else would come of tonight, you were just happy that you could witness this. You would see Ivar differently now, you knew. And would probably fall even more for him.

 You noticed it getting a bit darker out, and a quick look at your phone told you that it was already half past nine PM. It had not seemed that long, getting to Ivar’s home and starting to cook, as you had not even finished the preparation for cooking yet, but frankly, you didn’t even mind. The setting sun tinted the whole apartment in a magical, golden light, making it look even more beautiful and magical. Ivar’s face turned away from his work for a moment, his blue eyes wandering over the horizon, where the sky was slowly tinted in orange, pink and purple. A faint smile appeared on his face, before he returned his attention to the food.

 Absently minded you put your phone on the kitchen isle, before you grabbed a jar of mixed spices, which Ivar had instructed you to get for him while he was still cutting up vegetables. You read the label, not surprised that he had not purchased them in Norway, but in Spain, turning around, eyes still on the jar. Thus, you only noticed too late that Ivar was right behind you, his chair almost inaudible on the marble floor.

 With a slightly embarrassing yelp escaping your throat, you lost balance, tripping over Ivar’s wheelchair, falling over and landing straight in his lap. His strong arms were suddenly around you to keep you from completely falling to the floor, and your face probably had taken on a crimson shade.

 “Careful there, dove. I’m usually not that hard to miss.” He smirked, to your surprise not even remotely angry with you.

 You had once, in your third month at the Lothbrok Corporation, seen a small clerk run into him in the office, who had been a bit late and had not really paid attention. After Ivar had yelled at him for good twenty minutes, he had never been heard of again.

 “Gods, I’m so sorry, I..” but you stopped, swallowing, not knowing what to say. You tried to get up, the jar of spices still in your hand, but Ivar’s strong grip around you firmly held you in place.

 The man tilted his head, eye flickering to the glass container you were holding. He let go of you with one of his arms, while the other one was still around you, taking the jar from your hands and placing it on the counter next to him. His blue eyes mustered you once more. Your heart was pounding. In the light of the setting sun he looked even more handsome than he had already.

 “I have told you, that you look good today, right?” he asked, his voice low. His hand had returned to hold you again, and you noticed his fingers carefully caressing your back, which sent a shiver up your spine.

 Your mind was racing, as was your heart.

You could not but stare into his piercing blue eyes, not sure what to say, how to respond to him right now, or if you should say anything at all. You were unable to think even one coherent thought, as you felt his strong arms around you, his firm body below you, and his hot breath against you skin.. wait. When had he gotten this close to you?

 Before you could really comprehend what was happening, you suddenly felt Ivar’s lips against yours, not firm, but soft, almost shily moving against yours. In that moment, it was as if your mind just gave up, and turned itself off.