#kinda hate that i actually started watching this series in hope they would free me from my naruto fixation but ��

[scarletofspring]

Mitsusara as MiIeven from Stranger Things 💙❤

[takingchences]

𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒

A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x OP!fem!oc

Warnings: mature language

series masterlist + my masterlist

Watching the two rivals battle it out was difficult.

Midoriya had started out strong, having managed to gain the upper hand at the start of the exercise by anticipating Bakugou's attacks. The tables quickly turned, however, when the explosive teen demonstrated the power of his gauntlets. The force of the blast sent a tremor throughout the entire building, forcing Sana to stand closer to Kirishima. He was her best shot at making it out alive should the building collapse above their heads.

The heat released from the blast made her shiver.

"Sir, isn't this getting outta hand?" Kirishima tried to reason with the seasoned hero. "That Bakugou is acting real crazy. He's gonna kill him!"

All Might, with a practiced smile on his face, chose not to interfere in the fight other than to warn the angry blonde that if he used such a dangerous attack again, his team would automatically lose. I hope our newbie teacher knows what he's doing, Sana held her clasped hands to her chest anxiously. Though everyone but All Might and their teammates were unable to hear what exactly the two boys were saying, it was clear from the footage that things were getting much too heated for a simple exercise.

"You okay?" Mina whispered, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

"Just nervous," Sana quickly dismissed her concern. Mina nodded in agreement, her bubblegum curls bouncing with the movement.

"Yeah. Bakugou really isn't letting up, huh?"

Midoriya went to punch, but in one fluid motion, Bakugou launched into the air and maneuvered himself behind the smaller boy. He set off an explosion against the greenette's unprotected back, making several in the class gasp.

"What was that move?"

"He doesn't come off as a guy with a strategy, but he's actually quite intelligent." Shoto voiced from the back of the crowd, momentarily pulling their attention away from the moniter. "He changed his trajectory while in midair using a blast that doubled as a smokescreen." The dual-quirk user explained. He added in a quieter tone, as if speaking more to himself now, "Very clever."

"A feint attack like that requires an extreme amount of precision." Momo agreed. "He had to calculate the physics and demonstrate control over his Quirk."

Kaminari, of course, was put off by the positive comments. "Ugh, Bakugou is uber talented." His shoulders slumped. "I hate it."

Me too, Sana nibbled on her lower lip.

Smoke rose from Midoriya's damaged costume. Bakugou, without hesitation, slammed his heavy-looking gear into Midoriya's arm. He then grabbed hold of said arm and released smaller blasts with his free hand for momentum before tossing the green-haired boy over his shoulder like a rag doll, much like Midoriya had done to him at the start of the match.

Sana had to turn away at the brutality Bakugo was displaying. He could've easily ended the exercise by now. He'd had enough opportunities to use the capture tape on Midoriya, which meant he was dragging the fight out on purpose.

He was enjoying this.

"This is hard to watch." Mina's voice cracked, as if she were close to crying. Her hand grasped Sana's sleeve tightly. "All he has to do is wrap tape around him, not kill him!"

"Bakugou is certainly acting like a villain," Tokoyami added from his shaded spot by the wall. So much violence, Sana closed her eyes. All because of some stupid grudge. Midoriya pushed himself up shakily, half running and half crawling away from the beastly Bakugou.

"He's running away."

"Not very manly, but he doesn't have a choice." The rocky redhead sighed. "He's outgunned. Unless he's got some kinda plan."

It's possible, Sana acknowledged. She could tell that Midoriya was very observant and analytical, but he also seemed like the type of person to jump headfirst into danger without thinking. She wasn't sure if he even knew what he was going to do next.

Midoriya stopped, his back pressed against the wall. The two exchanged words before sprinting full-force towards one another. The veins in Midoriya's arm seemed to glow, like her's sometimes did if she used quirk for an extended period of time. "This can't end well," Sana bit her nail.

Even All Might looked nervous now. "Both of you, stop-" The Pro seemed to cut himself off.

Instead of aiming for Bakugou, Midoriya directed his attack upwards, blowing a hole through the center of the building. Uraraka used her quirk to levitate over the hole and capture the weapon, bringing the first mock battle to an end.

"The hero team... WINS!"

The class watched as Midoriya was carted away to Recovery Girl's office. "The losers are practically untouched, and the winners are both on the ground." Kaminari commented, scratching his head.

"This class is intense." Sana nodded dazedly.

All Might left to retrieve their classmates. The next battle would take place in a new building since the current one was now unusable. The hero returned shortly with Uraraka, Iida, and a shell-shocked Bakugou. He obviously wasn't taking the loss well. The shattered look on his face made Sana's chest tighten. No matter how annoyed she was with him at the moment, she wouldn't wish such a feeling on anyone.

But maybe, in this case, it was for the best. Bakugou needed to learn where his starting line was in order to improve, instead of assuming he'd already won before the race had even begun.

"Well, despite the results, the MVP of this exercise is Young Iida!" His announcement was met with confusion, Iida himself being the most surprised of all.

"Shouldn't it be one of the heroes instead, since they're the winners?" Tsuyu questioned.

"Mm! Valid question. Why didn't I choose one of those two? Who has a guess?"

"Sir! I can tell you why!" Momo volunteered before launching into a lengthy speech on how Iida embraced the challenge, unlike his partner who was too blinded by his hatred of Midoriya to focus on the real challenge; protecting the weapon.

I tried to warn him, Sana moved her eyes to the now quiet blonde, his eyes wide and downcast. Though I don't think an "I told you so" is what he needs right now.

"As you pointed out earlier, launching a large‐scale attack indoors was a foolish move. It could have been disastrous. Similarly," the girl continued. "Midoriya's plan was also poorly thought out, considering the amount of damage that he received. He rendered himself helpless. Not smart. As for Uraraka... She let her guard down mid‐battle, and her final attack was far too reckless given the hypothetical stakes. If she'd treated the fake weapon as though it were real, she never would've risked using such an imprecise move."

"Iida was fully prepared for his opponent's arrival. He had a strategy, and never lost sight of his mission to protect the dummy weapon, even if he was foiled in the end. Technically, the hero team won, yes, but they took advantage of the fact that this was training. They didn't respect the spirit of the trial."

Iida was sparkling after receiving such praise.

"Yes... well, you overlooked a few things." All Might stumbled over his words. "Young Iida could have relaxed a little bit in the exercise, but... otherwise, you nailed it!" He gave Momo a thumbs up.

"Let's move on to the next match!" All Might exclaimed after arriving at the next battleground. "Think about everything we saw and discussed as you tackle this training for yourself."

"Yes, sir!" Class 1-A shouted.

The Number One hero drew lots again, holding the letters up for all to see. "Match two! Team B will be our heroes! And Team I will be the villains!"

So, Hagakure and I will go up against...

People often say that God has a sense of humor and they would be right. Because the hero team consisted of Shoji and the very last person she wanted to see right now, let alone fight: Shoto Todoroki.

You've gotta be kidding me.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

A radio, a map of the building, and capture tape were the only items they were given to prepare, as well as a head start so that "the villains" could hide their weapon. "Hey, Sakano." Her teammate called. "I'm gonna take off all my clothes and totally disappear."

"It won't make a difference," Sana replied matter-of-factly, tightening the ribbon holding her hair back. "He'll make his move before you make it out the door."

"Are you okay?" Hagakure asked hesitantly. "You seem... different."

No, Sana wanted to say. She felt like laughing and crying hysterically as she hugged her knees and rocked in a corner. I have to put my feelings aside. I'd be a hypocrite if I lectured Bakugou about controlling his emotions and didn't take my own advice. Her nails dug into the flesh of her palms as her fists clenched in suppressed anger. It's just like when we used to train together, she reminded herself. Only this time, he's not my only opponent.

"I'm fine," Sana brushed the question off.

They settled for hiding the weapon on the highest floor. The room was empty, so it left a lot of open space to defend and only one exit to escape through. The large windows behind them let plenty of sunlight in, which would come in handy once their teacher gave them permission to start.

"You can ditch the gloves. But for now, keep your shoes on." The light-powered girl sensed her teammate's uncertainty. "Trust me."

"Look alive, kids!" The Symbol of Peace's thundering voice boomed through their earpieces. "Show us you're the embodiment of good." He paused, realizing his mistake. "Or evil! Let's go!"

Sana immediately channeled her quirk, urging the heat to spread throughout her body. Her eyes took on a luminous hue. Steam was visibly streaming off of her, which Hagakure was quick to comment on. "Stay focused," Sana reminded the invisible girl. "It's coming."

"What-"

A chill nipped at their skin before a wave of ice swept through the room. "JUMP!" Sana warned her teammate, though she made no move to follow her own command. Shoto's ice instinctively retreated from the heat radiating off of her.

"It's s-s-so cold-d," Hagakure chattered, her teeth knocking together as she shivered violently.

"When Shoto comes in, I'll distract him while you slip out of the room. Shoji is probably waiting outside the building, but he'll come in once he realizes the ice attack didn't work."

"Eh? S-shot-t-"

Crunch.

Both girls fell silent as the soft crunch of ice underfoot grew closer to their hideout. He was close, maybe only a few steps outside the doorless entrance. Sana spotted Hagakure's shoelaces untying themselves out of the corner of her eye, the invisible girl ready to make a break for it as soon as the path was clear.

The mock battle had officially begun.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Within minutes, his tall figure appeared in the doorway, that red LED eyepiece glinting eerily. Thick layers of ice covered everything from floor to ceiling, including the windows. He'd blocked out her main power source. Well then, it's a good thing I'm fully charged.

"Sakano." The empty sound of his voice made her flinch. That, and what he'd called her.

Sakano.

Not her name, her given name that he'd used so many times before, but her father's name. An inescapable weight she was forced to carry with her like a ball and chain. Sakano. As if they'd never been close. As if they hadn't known each other for most of their lives. As if the last ten years together were somehow less significant than the past ten months apart. "Sakano," he'd said, as though greeting a stranger.

Maybe that's what they'd become.

Familiar strangers.

"Todoroki," Sana grit her teeth, pushing past the painfully large lump in her throat to speak. She knew she probably looked shaken by his verbal sneak attack. She'd felt the color drain from her cheeks the second the word had registered in her mind, had felt her trembling hands curl into fists. He knew how hearing that cursed name from his mouth would effect her, and he'd used it to his advantage. Smart move.

"Step aside," Shoto instructed. "We both know how this will go, so let's skip to the end."

Sana hoped Hagakure had already made her exit. Fuck what she'd said earlier. Things were about to get very personal, very quickly. And like Bakugou and Midoriya, she didn't want anyone interfering. Only All Might would know what was said between them, which wasn't ideal, but at least she didn't have to worry about the rest of the class listening in as well.

"You underestimate me, hero." She forced herself to smile, to joke and taunt. It helped keep the tears she desperately wanted to shed at bay. That, and the cameras pointed at her, capturing her every move. She wouldn't allow herself to break down and look weak, no matter how much she wanted to crumble under his mismatched gaze. "This battle is far from over."

"There's no point in dragging this out," Shoto lazily shrugged. "You and I operate on different levels. We always have."

Unrecognizable. The dual-haired teen standing before her was completely unrecognizable. Where was the young boy who loved watching reruns of All Might's news clips with his mother late at night while his father was patrolling? Where was the boy that stubbornly made her pinky promise to start a hero agency with him? Where was the sweet boy who used to tie her shoes for her, knowing she couldn't do it herself? The one who had offered to take care of her imaginary dog while she was at school and he was stuck at home with a tutor? The one who's father she'd begged to allow him to attend school with her? Homeschooling made for a flexible schedule, which meant more training time and less eyes to notice the aftermath of the hero's violent outbursts, but she'd made a compelling argument about exposing Shoto to more powerful and complicated quirks. Eventually, he warmed up to the idea.

Her Shoto was kind, even when all he'd known was cruelty. So who was this Shoto? This harsh, apathetic, machine-like man. What had happened during those months away for him to make such a drastic change?

"Different levels," Sana repeated slowly, testing the words out. A breathy laugh followed, though the sound lacked any humor. "Did your old man teach you that? It sounds like something he'd say."

A muscle in Shoto's jaw fluttered. Good. She wasn't the only one pissed off now.

"Maybe that's what he tells himself." She continued, the corners of her lips tugging upward, refusing to even blink as glowing eyes bore into his steely gaze. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, but she felt no satisfaction as the biting words left her mouth. "That the reason he's so far behind is because he and All Might are 'on different levels."' The temperature of the room dropped significantly.

There was a reason Sana had been paired with Shoto as a sparring partner all these years; they brought out the best and worst in each other.

Shoto was the quiet type. He rarely spoke unless prompted to, or if he had something weighing on his mind. He kept his personal thoughts and feelings locked away, but Sana knew how to coax them out. She had a way with words. She knew just what to say to soothe him after a particularly brutal day with his father, or send him into a full-blown rage that almost made Bakugou look tame. It was a gift she was quite proud of. She liked to think of it as a secret weapon.

She also knew that Shoto relied heavily on his quirk, choosing to use long range attacks rather than close combat. With his size advantage alone, he could easily overpower her and claim the weapon.

But he wasn't moving.

Why hasn't he attacked already? Sana shifted her weight, ice tinkling softly beneath her feet. Does he really not consider me a threat?

His eyes cut to the side, narrowing slightly in focus. He seemed to be listening to something... maybe Shoji was talking to him? Sana concentrated for a moment before she heard the sound of distant shouting. Hagakure. She and Shoji were probably a floor or two away from them, battling it out, and here they were standing around playing mind games.

Screw it.

Sana sent a blast of solid light at Shoto, who dodged the attack and returned one of his own. Sana ducked to the side to avoid the ice, each breath visible in the frosty air. She knew what he was up to. It was a tactic he used often during their sessions. Cooler temperatures caused her quirk to weaken significantly. Drops in temperature forced the photons in the atmosphere to slow down. He was trying to tire her out, corner her into using up her reserves until she had nothing left. It was a dance they'd done enough times for her to know every move by heart. She could do this in her sleep.

The action caused a rush of anger to well up inside of her. Was he even taking her seriously as an opponent? Was his strategy to toy with her in a game of cat and mouse until he got bored? Did he honestly believe that they were competing on different levels?

Finally, she had enough.

"Fight me, dammit!" she demanded. "You're not even taking this seriously!"

"Are you?" the red-and-white haired teen asked, creating a wall of ice to use as a barrier. "From what I'm seeing, you haven't improved at all since the last time we fought. Is this the best you can do?"

With a flick of her wrist his way, a ribbon of light sliced through his sheild like butter. The top portion slid to the side and shattered. With a stomp of his foot on the ground, a mountain of jagged ice raced towards her. Sana summoned more energy, creating a protective dome around herself. The ice attack immediately melted upon contact, the rest cracking from the intense heat radiating off the glowing half-sphere. Steam filled the room, adding an unnecessarily dramatic effect to an already dramatic scene as the two teens glared at each other from opposite sides of the room.

Sana hadn't let her guard down once during the few minutes they'd been sparring. She had a plan, one she'd come up with mere moments before the battle trial began. But in order for it to work, she had to keep Shoto's attention. Unfortunately, she was starting to feel drained. She'd been maintaining a high temperature around herself since Shoto had turned the entire building into a popsicle. It was starting to have an effect on her, and Shoto seemed to sense that as well. He pummeled her temporary sheild relentlessly, battering it over and over with a barrage of endless attacks until Sana had to drop it to conserve her energy.

A beam of light shot from her palm, aimed at his head. The boy deflected it using a small glacier, while instantaneously firing back a blast of frost. The peach-haired girl jumped to the side, the ice shattering against the wall beside her. Shards of it went flying from the impact, a particularly sharp piece sliced her cheek an inch below her eye. A single drop of blood slipped down her cheek like a tear; the only one she would allow herself to shed in this moment.

With a battle cry, Sana launched herself at Shoto, only to be caught in the chest by a flurry of ice. She fell to the ground with a wince. Layers of frost crept along her stunned body, making her shiver violently.

A pair of white boots entered her field of vision as a disappointed sigh broke the silence. "It seems your efforts were in vain." The footsteps moved away from where she was immobilized, heading towards the weapon.

Hagakure had her hands full distracting Shoji, so Sana couldn't expect any backup from her teammate. More than anything, she wanted to prove that she was capable of taking on a powerhouse like Shoto Todoroki and winning.

"It wasn't a t-t-total waste." She called from the floor, teeth chattering.

His footsteps didn't stop or even slow at her words. Lifting her head as best she could with her body encased from her feet to her shoulders, she followed his broad back with her eyes. Standing before the weapon, Shoto lifted his right hand to touch the weapon and claim victory for the Hero Team.

Except... he couldn't touch it. His hand passed through the bomb like a reflection in a pool.

He whipped around at the sound of throaty laughter. "Y-you were right." Sana, despite being out of commission, still had her quirk activated. Her glowing eyes were a dead give away. Her lips, which were starting to turn blue, split into a devilish grin. "This is the b-best I can d-d-do."

"What is this?" Shoto's body tensed, the hand meant to hold the weapon now clenched into a fist.

"A dem-demonstration," she shuddered, still stuck face down on the floor. "I wanted t-to s-show how f-far I've come w-without you."

Shoto took a step closer to her. "What are you talking about?" He demanded, his voice urgent. "What did you do with the weapon, Sakano?"

Her skin was pale, eyes lidded, her blue lips bordering purple now. Yet, she still smiled conspiratorially, like she was in on a joke that hadn't been shared with the rest of the world. She faintly heard All Might's voice through her earpiece, yelling their names. She blinked heavily, the edges of her vision going dark.

As soon as the solar-powered girl lost consciousness, the fake-fake weapon faded away, and the real weapon Shoto was meant to capture appeared out of thin air, nestled in a dark corner on the far side the room. Sana had bent the light around the weapon to turn it invisible, as well as maintaining the mirage of a duplicate weapon, all while fighting him as a distraction until time ran out. It was a miracle she hadn't passed out sooner.

He was wrong when he'd said she hadn't improved earlier. Sana had grown immensely during their time apart, and not just quirk wise. She'd matured physically and mentally as well. It made Shoto's chest ache to think that he'd already missed so much in so little time.

He turned in a quick circle, looking for the real weapon before finally spotting it out of the corner of his eye. It annoyed him once he realized he'd passed right by it on his way inside. It hadn't even occurred to him that his childhood friend might be capable of doing something like that. He slid across the frozen floor towards the exit, arm outstretched. But just before his fingers could make contact, the buzzer went off.

"Time's up!" All Might announced. "Villian Team wins!" Distantly, a girl's voice could be heard cheering.

Shoto stared at the weapon with wide eyes, his hand hovering only inches away. Sana was much better at combat than he was. Whenever they practiced without their powers, it was rare that she lost. But for the first time in a decade, Sana had defeated him using her quirk. He wasn't sure if he should be proud of her success or saddened by it.

At the moment, it felt like a mixture of the two.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Sana had been defrosted, along with the rest of the building, by Shoto before being hauled away to the nurse's office to warm up and rest. After sleeping for about an hour, Sana finally stirred. Recovery Girl let her go with a kiss on the cheek and a handful of gummy bears. It came as no surprise to anyone that Midoriya was still unconscious.

She returned to the training grounds, where she was immediately greeted with cheers and claps on the back. Hagakure filled her in on what happened after she passed out, like how they won and how, apparently, she'd tied with Shoto as the MVP. Most of the teams had already gone by the time Sana had woken up, which was fine with her. After the stress she felt watching the first round, and the roller coaster of emotions she experienced during her own, the peach-haired girl was ready to call it a day.

All Might ended the class with a speedy exit, while the rest of the class walked at a normal pace back to the changing rooms. Once they were back inside the 1-A classroom, most of the students chose to hang back and socialize. Sana assumed the majority of them were waiting to congratulate Midoriya. Aside from Bakugou, of course, who grabbed his bag and stormed out without a word to anyone.

She had half a mind to follow him and try and cheer him up, but figured she'd already meddled in his life enough for one day.

"You know, Sakano, I was rather curious about something." Momo's voice pulled her away from her thoughts. The girls were gathered in a circle around Sana's desk, except for Uraraka, who had left with Kaminari to grab textbooks in preparation for tomorrow's lesson. "The nature of your quirk, along with your surname... well, it can't be a coincidence, can it? Are you related to the Sakanos?"

There was that name again. It followed her everywhere, like a shadow. Momo's question had caught the attention of the rest of the class, who were just as curious about the answer. She couldn't lie. Momo was right in the sense that it would be too much of a coincidence for her not to be one of them.

Without meaning to, Sana locked eyes with Shoto. She wasn't sure why she did it. Maybe because, out of everyone, he knew how heavy the burden of such a legacy could be. Or maybe it was because she was reminded of a wound he'd inflicted only hours ago that was still tender.

"Oh," Sana played with the cuff of her blazer. "I am."

"No way!" Mina clapped her hands to her cheeks. "You mean that scary-looking guy on TV is your dad?!" Sana nodded, hiding her despair behind a polite, practiced smile.

It was all part of the act, part of the role she'd been assigned since birth. She played her part well, unlike Shoto, who fought against his strings so much that he sometimes became tangled in them. No, she just smiled and nodded, said the lines she'd rehearsed so well, and waited for the show to end. When it was over, she'd give herself a round of applause for her performance, only to crumble as soon as the curtains closed.

But Shoto wouldn't be there to help pick up the pieces anymore. She hadn't imagined it earlier, when he'd called her that despicable name.

Sakano. What a cruel thing to say to someone you claimed to love.

¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*･ﾟ¸☾⋆*

Bakugou grumbled to himself, kicking at the ground as he walked home. The day couldn't have gone any worse. Not only had he been lectured like a child by some dumbass, but he'd also been humiliated by that shitty nerd in front of the entire class. No, worse. In front of All Might.

"When I was watching that ice guy, I realized I couldn't beat him in a head‐to‐head fight." He'd said to Deku by the school gates. "Dammit, even that glow-worm was stronger than I thought."

She'd downplayed her power, pretending to be weak and forced to rely on others, when in reality, her quirk was probably one of the strongest in class. It pissed him off that he'd been tricked again. He was right when he'd said she was like Deku. They were both looking down on him, mocking his strength and laughing at his expense.

Bakugou had always been praised: for his flashy quirk, his strength and determination, his intelligence, etc. He'd always been made to feel like number one, and had proven himself capable of being the best again and again. So why, after starting U.A, did it seem like that was no longer the case?

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

fic writer interview!

totally stealing this from @definitelynotshouting because it looks really fun and I haven't had a chance to yap about my own work in a while!

---<0>---

How many works do you have on AO3?

32! used to be more but I totally deleted some of my old Umbrella Academy fics, sadly - could be around 35 or 36 if I hadn't.

What's your total AO3 word count?

334,360... uh, most of that is from two specific fics haha.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

You Say You Feel Hollow (and you know it's 'cause you are) (HC/Life Series | 775)

INCOMING MESSAGE - COMM RECORDS (HC | 725)

“Man is condemned to be free” (DreamSMP | 547)

I Still Feel Alive (when it's hopeless, I start to notice) (Lunch Club | 488)

Let's Call It An Arrangement (HC | 460)

if you remember my lunch club fics no you don't. also kinda surprised to see the range of fics here - some of my older stuff and then some of my newest too!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes! the only time I maybe won't is when it's a second or third comment in a thread and I have nothing else to say. even a '<3' comment will get a response. I don't get many comments, so I take the time to respond to them all. also, I share details about the writing process and lore of fics if people ask. so 🔫😐 comment to get secret knowledge. (in the same vein, I always respond to asks here about my fics!)

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

oh, man... I don't tend to leave fics on completely horrific endings in any case, but I would say probably my boatem pirate fic, It's All Part of Being a Pirate (HC). definitely the fic with the least ambiguously horrible fate for just everyone involved.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

uh... it depends on your idea of 'happy', honestly. Trembling Jaws Can't Stop Stuttering (HC) is a gore/cannibalism convexian fic that doubles as polyamory negotiations. a lot of people say they feel quite comforted by it despite the violence, especially because of the hopeful ending, so I suppose that qualifies as happy. on the other hand, my alternate canon fic, “Man is condemned to be free” (DreamSMP) is ultimately hurt/comfort with a happy(ish) ending, but you have to get through a lot of literal torture and pain first. so... not exactly 'happy'.

Do you write crossovers?

no, but I do come up with ideas for them quite frequently. I'm just not really compelled to actually write them. my favourite universe to put my blorbos into at any given time is the hunger games. I also do get inspired by other media when coming up with my original ideas - there are definitely hints of shows and films I've watched in some of my fics.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not traditionally, but since I write a lot of gore and cannibalism that is quite graphic (and I do properly tag it of course) sometimes I get people commenting that they weren't expecting such graphic violence, or that it disturbed them. which... idk man, read the tags? it doesn't really bother me to get those comments, I usually just remind them that I did tag it all and they chose to click, but I hope they enjoyed regardless.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

my insane AU *ideas* definitely have way more smut in them than my regular fics (which have none). alas, most of those ideas are sealed away in the DMs of my most trusted confidant (you know who you are) and I am way too asexual to actually write it seriously. those ideas also feature more noncon, dubcon, and general abuse trauma than I would be comfortable sharing on my actual account. they are mostly very cathartic ideas that wouldn't get developed into full fics. I do, however, have a post detailing my headcanons for convexian as a trio on the asexual-autistic-cannibalism spectrum. and yes, those three things are inherently linked. that post and the fics that go with it are as explicit as my works get, really. sometimes I will hint at sex / make innuendos in one-off lines, though.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope. I've had a few tumblr posts reposted on instagram, but to my knowledge nothing of mine has been outright stolen... sometimes I see people using very similar plots or styles to mine (particularly in the homoerotic cannibalism genre) and go 'haha it would be funny if they were inspired by my fic' but I'm not popular or egotistical enough to be mad about that.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope. that would be cool, but I'm in pretty english-centric fandoms right now. my aunt had one of her fics translated into five different languages, so I have a lot to live up to!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope, but sometimes I will get ideas from other people or they will get ideas from me. @angeart and I have co-written our Ari AU (HC), but that is more of a detailed summary than a fic. also go read it.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I mean come on. did you think it wasn't going to be scarian? (but grumbo, convex, and all combinations of those four freaks, are also up there)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

basically all of them. Kingdoms AU (HC) will haunt me forever though.

What are your writing strengths?

like others before me I'm just basing this on the comments I get - I am apparently very good at getting character voices right (which is something I do try particularly hard to do, but I honestly think sometimes I get it all wrong). one of my other strong points is writing both abstractly and very literally, especially with gore. I like weaving together metaphors and similes with more blunt descriptions of the physical senses. it seems to work.

What are your writing weaknesses?

oh baby I am terrible with action scenes. pure action really stumps me, and it's what I struggle with most in my professional writing too. that and consistent characterisation (I think in fic maybe it's a bit less of an issue, people don't *really* care if a character is slightly inconsistent, but I bug myself with it... 'he would NOT say that' is my internal motto) also sometimes I dive way too deep into the internal world and forget about the external - especially when a character has to do something simple like walk down the stairs or some other quite mundane action. then everything becomes quite confusing and loaded in too much metaphor and weirdness, something I noticed the most when re-reading the first chapter of Kingdoms AU.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I did it once. badly. I'm monolingual and stupid and my opinion on this is just sort of 'do whatever makes the story flow the best'.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

hamilton. i think. but I had ideas for my little pony and team crafted beforehand that I never wrote because i was, like, 10.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

honestly just wanna write more solo grub (grian x cub). hashtag grub violence.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

one of my least popular fics, and second most recent. Who can really tell? (Life Series) is one of the works that feels the most polished and creatively challenging. perhaps I love it so much because it's unpopular, but I genuinely think my characterisation of listener!bigb was some of my best. it remains amusing to me that its sister fic is my most popular fic by kudos. if you're reading this, perhaps go give it a chance ? 🥺 I also have a huge soft spot for COMMS AU (HC), of course. but it feels unfair to judge an unfinished fic against finished ones.

---<0>---

I don't usually tag people in these sorts of things, but if you wanna give it a go then definitely do! I totally stole the entire formatting and idea from shouting. I will tag @angeart a second time, but no pressure my partner in crime ;D

[luminouslumity]

Liveblog for Watching and Dreaming!

Okay, last episode. Here we go.

Oh, okay! So we're starting with drama right off the bat then! Great!

TITAN!

STRINGBEAN!

Oh God, poor Luz!

Poor Eda, but I've honestly really missed Lilith as an antagonist, even if it's only a dream in this case.

Okay, and now King is going to be traumatized! Wonderful!

Okay, ouch! This scene with Hunter hurts even more than the others!

Still horrified, but love the call-back to S1.

Aww! Reunion!

Rai Rai! I can't! It's just a shame this isn't the real Raine!

Oh, no... Belos, leave King alone!

This is so sad on so many levels! It's one thing to have an antagonistic chaos being, it's another if that chaos being just genuinely doesn't understand the repercussions of their actions! And of course he wouldn't, he's a child!

Raine, yes! Try and break free!

I'm really liking the action here!

Oh, so we're just gonna get the "try to get through to him" talk now, then. Okay.

The Archivists? Lore? Oh my god!

This poor baby!

GO, RAINE!

Oh, don't tell me that heart belongs to...

And it does! As if you couldn't get any more gruesome, Belos!

AMITY! YAY! And hearing her call Lilith Miss Lilith really makes me wish more than ever that we actually saw them interact beyond Covention.

Aww, more call-backs.

Dana, don't tempt us! But yes, please, I'd give anything for an Eda school days spin-off!

I hate Belos, but man I love his new monster design! It actually kinda reminds me of Garon from Fire Emblem Fates!

Yes, Collector! Go, little guy!

Wait, no! Collector! There are exceptions! That being said, the reactions from Luz, Eda, and King are hilarious!

LUZ, NO!

CAMILA! I'm not even joking when I say I literally started to cry at the same time she did!

YES! AVENGE HER!

Oh, the In-Between Realm!

I knew she'd be fine, but oh god, all of them are going to need therapy once all this is over!

King's dad!?

KING'S DAD! And I love his design!

Aww! He sounds so sweet!

WHY!?

Well, at least we get pretty animation out of this.

GOODBYE, KING'S DAD!

Again, poor Camila!

Glyphs! Yay!

NO, NOT HIM TOO!

NO!

LUZ! AND SHE LOOKS SO GOOD!

Aw, they're all fighting alongside each other! This is awesome!

I've missed you, red foliage!

Wow!

Again, this animation is amazing!

Raine! And she's whistling the song! Ugh, I can't!

Aww, Raeda nuzzlies!

More fluid animation!

YES, SHE SAID IT! SHE SAID THE THING!

BYE-BYE, BELOS!

Oh, fork you, man! How dare you even try and play the "I was possessed" card!

Okay, this is horrifying. Still, death by rain? How delightfully ironic!

Even now, he still refuses to see himself as a villain.

YEAH! STOMP ON HIM!

Aww, King! And of course the message would be a pun!

Aww, more reunions!

DADRIUS CONFIRMED!

Seriously, everything about this voiceover is great! Sucks that Luz can't do magic anymore, though. And I'm glad the Collector will at least be keeping in touch.

Aww, Hunter has a new palisman!

TIMESKIP! NICE!

Aw, the University of Wild Magic!

Amity looks so good! They all do, but Amity's is my favorite! Lilith too, actually!

King-ceñera! So sweet! And disgusting, but it's the thought that counts. And glyphs have returned! Cool!

A removal spell! Awesome!

BYYYYYEEE!

That was such a perfect note to end it on! Thank you for everything, Owl Crew! And I know we'll apparently be getting something related to the Azura series eventually (no idea if it's still going to happen or not though), but even if it's just books or graphic novels, here's hoping we can get more from this show in the future!

[dreamersparacosm]

life as we know it - prologue

an austin butler x reader fanfiction. 

warnings ; none <3

a/n ; i am SO excited to be starting this series!!! this chapter is just setting up the premise for austin and [y/n]’s relationship, leading up to the events of chapter one, so there’s a lot of time jumps. i might be publishing this on my wattpad as well but more details on that to come. for now its a tumblr exclusive ;) enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

official series masterlist linked here 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

you wanted to crawl into a hole.

maybe that was harsh, but for the circumstances you were given, it felt right. your heel tapped impatiently on your wooden floor. the clock idly ticked, its persistent sound humming in your brain as a way to say ‘look at me, check me.’ cozied in the nook of your leather couch, you inhaled another deep breath. if you checked your watch one more time, someone would have to diagnose you with a disorder. why did i agree to this? why..why...why? you could only scold yourself, for it had been you who had consented to your best friend’s idea to go on a blind date with her boyfriend’s friend. now, you did trust her. however, her track record in college included but was not limited to: barista with bad coffee breath, soccer player with heavy accent, and aspiring lawyer with daddy’s money. so, maybe it was your fault, because how could you not see the red flags?

you were starting to think you should’ve just ordered takeout and sunk into your mattress. 

the sound of your apartment buzzer ringing jostled you from your hateful thoughts. about damn time, you shook your head in annoyance. you smoothed out your fitted black dress, planting a believable smile on your face before swinging open the door to reveal… what the actual fuck? behind your door, a tall man with blonde hair stood before you, disheveled, in a black t-shirt and a baseball cap. you didn’t even have to look at him for more than five seconds to know he put about 10 minutes into his appearance. you blinked twice, hoping that when you did, he would disappear from your door and a man in a dress shirt and pants would reappear. a girl can dream. he placed his hand out to shake yours, speaking, “austin. austin butler. you’re [y/n], right?”

“that would be me,” your hand reached out to meet his, and a lousy handshake followed. somehow, you had already begun counting down the seconds until the date was over. but, you were a pleasant person, so no harm in accepting the free meal that was an antidote to any first date. “nice to finally meet you.” 

“am i late?” he spoke in one breath, running his hands through his curls. that seemed to do nothing for his appearance. did this man even shower?

“umm.. maybe an hour?” you shrugged your shoulders, praying that steam wasn’t coming out of your ears at that moment. he was, precisely, an hour and fifteen minutes late. if you knew any better, you would’ve put on your pajamas and let that damn doorbell ring until five in the morning. “but, you know, it took me a while to get ready, and i was warned by allison that this was kinda your thing, so…”

“oh, no way,” a chuckle exited his mouth, but it felt more condescending than anything. was it acceptable to slap someone on the first date? “that’s funny, because peter said you might say something about that.” 

it absolutely was not funny, but you found yourself forcing a laugh. there was nothing else to do in the situation, because simply put, it could not get worse than this. “oh, alright, great, thanks peter,” the compulsory giggles were still flying from your lips, and as soon as they came, they went. a moment of silence fell between you two as you sized each other up. meanwhile, austin butler was having his own thoughts. allison’s friend is fucking hot, he thought to himself. score for me. i’m getting laid. 

“well, should we head out?” you swung your purse onto your shoulders, hoping to peel his eyes off your body and possibly some of his sinful thoughts. he shook himself out of his trance, just before he was about to eye up your legs.

clearing his throat, he responded, “yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

“great. let’s get some dinner. i’m super hungry, it’s been like an hour,” you couldn’t help but let out a snide comment, but he seemed to either ignore it or play dumb as you two entered the elevator. it was a long, awkward ride down that seemed viciously torturous. you were already thinking of things you could ask allison to do to make this up to you, but you’re not sure anything could amount to this kind of torture.

“so, how long have you been here in the city?” he finally broke the silence as you two exited the elevator.

“since i graduated school,” you walked beside him, heel clacks echoing off the walls. “you?”

“just for the month,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pocket. “here for an acting gig.”

“oh, you’re an actor?” you furrowed your eyebrow. see, allison always left out the most important parts, such as ‘oh, he’s missing a tooth’ or ‘oh, he’s an actor!’ she was known for throwing you into the deep end, left to your own devices as if you needed any more of her tactics that were becoming more anxiety-inducing than anything else.

“struggling actor,” he corrected you.

even better. you decided to brush it off, since there was no need to dwell on the fact that this man possibly had no money or a real career. “how long have you known peter for?”

“high school.”

“oh, wow,” you nodded, waiting for him to ask you some sort of question. he opened the front entrance door of your building, barely holding it for you. at this point, you were all out of words to sputter out in anger. “i’ve known allison since college. we were in a sorority together.”

he didn’t even acknowledge your sentence as you stepped into the night air, the warm august breeze engulfing and comforting you the best it could considering the situation you were in. austin looked around the street, as if he were searching for something important. he whipped around to face you, a confused expression painted on his face. “…where’s your car?”

“uh, where’s your car?” you questioned accusingly.

“did you miss the part where i said struggling actor? here for the month, yada yada yada?” he crossed his arms over his chest, and it took all your energy to not reach out and slap him across the face. free meal, you repeated to yourself, one more hour and i can escape.

“no worries, we can just take my car,” you exhaled a deep breath, digging in your purse to pull out the keys to your new car. you hadn’t even really taken it for a spin yet, waiting until you were desperate enough to be seen driving around in a car in new york city. you finally found your key, unlocking it and crossing the street to open the driver’s seat. he continued to shock you by not even offering to drive the car — to which you would have said no — and he tucked himself cozily into your passenger seat.

“so, where should we go?” you turned to him, gripping the wheel so tightly your knuckles turned ghastly white. he couldn’t have messed up the dinner aspect of the date, right?

“uh, where did you make reservations?” he popped an altoid in his mouth.

your mouth gaped open in shock, neck jutting forward at his words, “you said you were gonna make them. you… didn’t make them?”

“i said that?” he scratched the top of his baseball cap quizzically. “i mean, bold of you to trust my advice but—“

“it’s fine,” you sighed, hoping the sadness didn’t reflect in your tone. “let’s just go anywhere. this city has stuff open all the time.”

“great,” he nodded. “so you pick.”

“you’re making me pick too?” you had to grip the wheel even tighter than before to stop yourself from slamming your forehead into it.

“i mean, is this my city? i’m a hollywood guy,” he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“right, yeah,” you said as if it were the only thing you had ever known. “okay, well, how about scarpetta? you ever heard of it?”

“nah, sounds fancy, though. is that, like, italian or something—“

his inquiry was cut short by the sound of a ringtone chirping through the night air. ‘baby got back’ eerily played from austin’s phone, and your eyes narrowed as you watched him wiggle uncomfortably in his seat beside you. great, and this guy uses actual songs as ringtones, you mentally made a note to block this man after this interaction. “oops, my bad,” he fumbled with his back pocket, trying to shut off his phone without removing it from the confines of his pants. “just my phone.”

“you can answer if you—“

“no, no,” he waved his hand at you, his hand jamming deeper into his pocket. “it’s gonna go to voicemail.”

you wanted to speak over the song, but no words could echo over the sound of the singer talking about a girl’s voluptuous glute. “you know what? how about you just answer that?”

“you… want me to answer it?” he knew it was a trap, he was well aware, but he also knew that it could be another one of his new york city booty calls coming through, and god forbid he missed that.

“just go ahead, it’s fine,” a forced grin was plastered on your face.

“great, thanks,” he let out a breath of relief, removing his phone from his pocket. “hey, you,” his tone dripped with sexuality, and your jaw fully gaped open as you realized this man wasn’t just accepting any old call, but a literal booty call. in front of you. openly.

the girl’s voice behind the phone was incoherent to you as he carried along in a sweet voice, “you know me, always in the middle of something…yeah, yeah…eleven? oof, that won’t work…10:30 okay?”

you blinked rapidly, jaw still unhinged as austin wrapped up his conversation. “so sorry about that, just one of my sick friends.”

“you know, we really do not have to do this,” you began to unbuckle your seatbelt. at that point, no free meal was worth this kind of excruciating pain.

“really?” he perked up in his seat, his shoulders straightening as he sat up.

“oh my god, are you for real?” you stared at him, eyebrows stitched together.

he turned his body to face you, unbuckling his seatbelt as well, “listen, let’s be honest. the moment you saw me, you didn’t like me. and in all seriousness, we both know how these things go. we’ll exchange small talk over dinner, i’ll probably make you split the bill, but it’s okay because you would be wine drunk, so we would still hook up and then we would tell our friends it went well, even though we’ll never speak again.”

he was really being serious.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, gripping your purse in your hands as if it were a concealed weapon.

“look, it’s the weekend. i’m just tryna have fun,” he put his hands up in defense. “i can hang out with my sick friend, and you can do whatever it is you do… which is?”

you stared at him blankly, unable to formulate words. “i do things,” you said finally, sneering at him.

“right! of course! you look like you read. go read a book!” he exclaimed as if it were a magical discovery he made. the dimwit thinks i fucking read on a weekend night, you said to yourself.

“okay, you know what?” you rolled your eyes, “if you wanted to ensure this wasn’t going to be a shitty night, here’s a tip. don’t make a booty call in front of me and don’t show up an hour late!”

he pressed a hand against his heart, faking his shock, “she’s very sick.”

“oh, of course. super sick,” you retorted sarcastically “were you planning on healing her with your magic penis?”

“hey, some ladies just need a little loosening up,” he winked at you suggestively, and that was just about the last straw for you. you opened your car door, hopping out as fast as your legs could take you.

you turned to him, leaning down so he could still be in earshot, “get out of my car. now.”

“no problem,” he opened up his door on the passenger side. “i don’t know what they were thinking.”

“yeah, me either,” you marched towards the entrance of your building, leaving austin stranded and to his own devices. regardless, he couldn’t care less. he had never been happier to escape from such an uptight woman. see, this is why he didn’t involve himself with corporate women. they were too strung out from their 9 to 5s.

as soon as you crossed the safe threshold of your front door, you whipped out your phone, dialing allison’s number swiftly. she picked up on the first ring, unable to get a single word out before you cut her off, “allison marie carter, the only way you can make this up to me…is if you promise i never have to see him again.”

apparently, your words carried as much weight in the universe as a feather.

as it would only happen, your best friend was absolutely head over heels, foolishly and disgustingly in love with her boyfriend. you had about 8 months of bliss, lost in ignorance that you would never have to see austin butler again. that was, until peter decided to propose to allison in paris. to make matters worse, allison and peter wanted you and austin to be their best man and maid of honor. to add even more salt to the wound than humanly possible, you were coerced into spending every second of every godforsaken day with the man who’s ringtone still haunted you in your dreams. lucky you. you cursed yourself for picking a best friend that would be lucky enough to marry a man who was mature and wise beyond his years, but his best friend was the human version of a penis.

if you weren’t so annoyed at the world and its sneaky ways, you might’ve possibly enjoyed her wedding. however, it became clear that was not going to be the case.

despite your eagerness to act miserable, you couldn’t hide the excitement that had buried itself deep down within you. you had talked with allison for years on what it would be like to meet the man you were going to wed, and to spend eternity with that person. at the time, it had grossed you out just enough to fear men forever, but alas, you were still stuck at a wedding ceremony, holding that damn bouquet of flowers and avoiding all eye contact with austin butler.

if allison had caught on to your ongoing feud with austin at her wedding, she made no point in mentioning it. if you weren’t four drinks in already too, you possibly would’ve dropped the vendetta you planned against him. needless to say, those drinks were getting the job done. during the wedding photos, austin managed to sneak a slap to your ass, causing you to chase him around with your bouquet frantically as the photographer got some ‘candid shots.’

god, i need more shots, you thought to yourself, exhaling the deepest of breaths as you looked around the crowded ballroom. you had done the phony introductions to allison and peter’s families, but no amount of alcohol was going to get you through the pit in your stomach that sat heavily, screaming at you. in some way, it felt as though you were losing a part of yourself with allison getting married. she was always your counterpart — not that much would change, peter knew the rules of your friendship — but it felt like you were back in kindergarten, learning that sharing was caring.

you made your way to the bar, pushing aside hordes of people to make direct eye contact with the bartender. at this point, you were sure he was beginning to know you by name, and tallying how many drinks you had left before he cut you off. ‘always be my baby’ by mariah carey echoed over the speakers, almost making you queasy.

“drinking all alone, princess?”

nope, never mind, you thought to yourself, now i’m queasy.

you slowly turned around, meeting austin's shit-eating grin and automatically getting the urge to slap it off his face. you were starting to wonder how they let barbarians into a wedding. of course, he knew the answer to his own question, but his common theme in your life had been ruining your peace. you blinked twice, already fed up with his antics. “trying to, butler.”

“aw, that’s not fun,” he teased, sliding in next to you and pulling out one of the barstools to perch himself against. you’re already counting down the seconds until he graces you with some peace.

“trust me, it is fun,” you scoffed, avoiding his eye contact.

“whatcha getting to drink?” for a moment, you thought he might actually be interested in your answer, until he literally confirms to you that he is definitely not, and is just looking for an opportunity to bully you again. “you strike me as one of those vodka cran girls. or, or someone who gets a martini just so they can feel classier about blacking out.”

you son of a bitch.

you smirked to yourself as the bartender slid the drink over you ordered a few minutes prior, “ma’am, here’s the jack and coke you ordered.”

you relished in the fact that you didn’t even have to turn to meet his eyes to know he was thoroughly impressed. “wow, jack daniels? i wouldn’t have guessed that one.”

“what can i say?” you took a sip, chugging as much as you possibly could to feel some sort of buzz. “i’m a woman full of surprises.”

“i like to be surprised.” now, if you weren’t tipsy, and he wasn’t also floating in a bit of liquid courage, you would say that the conversation you two were having was friendly banter (or the closest thing to it). but, through a drunken girl’s perspective, you almost took his sentence as an outward flirt. nevertheless, that wasn’t who you two were. you two constantly argued and teased each other, even after allison and peter forced you two to make up after the set-up debacle. plus, your brain couldn’t afford to be having sexual thoughts about anyone, especially not someone as demonic as austin butler, the communal whore.

so, you settled for the friendly version of your story. “shouldn’t you be balls deep in some girl right now?” you played with the straw in your drink, looking around in hopes of finding any other contenders to speak to.

he chuckled, a real one, which thoroughly weirded you out. “not before the speech. gotta wait ‘til after, they’ll come flocking after i make a few jokes.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, resisting the urge to roll your orbs into the back of your head. “you really believe you’re that funny?”

“maybe not, but somehow the girls still love me,” he smirked at you, squeezing your shoulder teasingly before ridding you of his presence and walking off to join peter on the dance floor. you found your eyes deceiving you and following him, watching as he did some ridiculous handshake with his best friend and chugging his beer. you shuddered at the thought that girls could even be attracted to him, especially with a body count as high as his and ego even higher.

the speeches came and went, and you cried a few times during your delivery. it was to be expected; there were too many stories to tell about allison being your platonic soulmate, and how buzzed you were that she had found her romantic soulmate. out of the corner of your eye, you saw austin gag himself a few times, but you knew the only one who would be sick was you after hearing his speech. knowing him, it was probably the raunchiest, filthiest speech known to man. with enough confidence to make you vomit, he walked up to the podium after you ended your speech, tapping the microphone a few times. you settled back into your chair, rolling your eyes at allison as she slapped your shoulder to calm you down. “hello everyone, my name is austin. i’m peter’s best man, and also his worst influence,” that earned a chuckle from the audience.

“i am so happy he asked me to be his best man. i was ecstatic when i found out he was going to be marrying allison, who is a better person than me, and that’s saying a lot. she consistently pushes him to work hard, and they’re always having fun together. they let me tag along on all their adventures, which also means i’m their pet. now, i could go into the crazy experiences peter and i have had, but those stories aren’t even rated pg-13 and i know half the people in here would rather die than hear those,” you found yourself cracking a smile at his jokes, but you rushed to wipe that off your face immediately as he turned to look at you. “now, i’m so excited to be part of this little family they created for me. allison and peter, i love you both dearly, and i’m grateful that you let me follow you around. peter, you’re my best friend and my brother, and i know that you’ll make allison the happiest girl alive. and, hey, if that doesn’t work out, i'm always down to get married, bro. congratulations you guys!”

your jaw was unhinged, eyes blinking sporadically to make sure you weren’t dreaming. did he…just make a heartfelt speech? to your surprise (and allison’s), you found yourself clapping along with the rest of the crowd. his eyes found yours, winking at you as to reveal an ulterior motive. damn it, he was going to get laid before you, probably with some poor, unsuspecting girl.

the night dragged on, drinks being poured and liquor being consumed. your drunken state wasn’t overbearing your ability to think properly, but you definitely were looser than you usually were. you had flirted with multiple men throughout the reception, however, you found yourself migrating to the happy couple. at that point, you must’ve been on your seventh jack and coke, because it didn’t even bother you when austin came up behind you and joined the little dance circle you three had created. in fact, you even interlocked hands with him during the ‘cha-cha slide.’ everything was blurry — too blurry — and you were beginning to wonder if the bartender was making your drinks extra strong on purpose.

allison and peter were so beyond hammered that they didn’t even bother to take note of anything you and austin were doing, since they were too caught up in their lovey-dovey romance bullshit. somehow, you’re okay with the dance circle, and you’re even okay when austin decides to slip his arm loosely around your waist. you’re not even thinking about doing anything with him in that way, you’re just content with the fact that you’re actually getting along on your best friend’s wedding day.

eighth jack and coke and one tequila shot courtesy of austin, and you’re officially too drunk to partake in any more wedding activities. your brain isn’t even working the way it normally would, because if it was, you wouldn’t be making your way down the hallway to a secluded room. you would not be going to said room with austin butler. you would not be laughing at the jokes he was making, and you most definitely would not be okay with the consistent hand-holding.

“god, who the fuck invented tequila?” he said quizzically, slurring his words just enough to send you back into a giggling fit.

“oh my god, we should go back and do the vodka one. i saw they have that new amsterdam shit,” you laughed, sipping your jack and coke as if it were water. he slid down the wall in the room that you two had magically found yourselves in, his legs failing him as his entire body buzzed with intoxication.

you sat down cross-legged next to him, still laughing to yourself like a lunatic. he finally stopped chuckling, taking the time to look over at you. it was the first time he had really looked at you since the blind date fiasco. he noticed your eyes glimmering in the soft light, the way your hair cascaded down your back. your fingers were wrapped loosely around your glass, freshly painted and slender. for once, he felt a different kind of insatiable hunger towards you. you soon realized he was gazing at you, and the giggles were cut short.

you two sat there in silence for just a few seconds. only mere seconds, before you said, “did you see what allison’s mother was wearing?”

and, sure enough, it was back to the laughing fit. he hit your arm playfully, wiping tears from his eyes at your joke. you didn’t even realize when he let his hand linger on your arm, moving down to place it on your thigh firmly. but, when you felt it grasp your body, his warmth radiating onto yours, you realized what kind of trouble you might have gotten yourself into. you slowly looked down at his hand, and when you peered back up at him, his ice-blue eyes met yours. for a moment in time, you two weren’t the sworn enemies you thought you were. you were just austin and [y/n], sitting on a cold, unwelcoming floor of a banquet hall at your respective best friend’s wedding. in another world, those two people would’ve figured out they should be together.

his tongue poked out, wetting his lips as he gulped down some of the saliva that had pooled in his mouth. you couldn’t even breathe; you were tied down by desire, and the need to feel his lips against yours. in your drunken state, you finally could see him as more than just that person you’re forced to spend time with.

but, not enough for you to actually go through with it. it is austin butler, after all.

so, when he inevitably began to lean in to kiss you, you yanked your head away immediately, pushing him away with your hand on his chest. “what are you doing?!”

“trying to kiss you..?”

“you thought i wanted to kiss you?” you uncrossed your legs, standing up and steadying yourself against the wall. it was like the alcohol was slapped out of you, possibly also your dignity.

“wait, we weren’t having a moment just now…?” he scratched his head, trying to push himself up for his two feet to land back on the ground, but somehow all the wind was knocked out of him from your rejection. why the fuck do i care? he thought to himself, already preparing himself to wake up with the worst anxiety the next day.

“no, we were not having a moment,” you rolled your eyes. “do you think every girl that talks to you and laughs is trying to get in your pants?”

“just to be clear, you’re not trying to get in my pants—“

“no!” you’re practically screaming at him, but you began to wonder if you were trying to convince him or yourself. either way, he still disgusted you enough to remind you that kissing him would be the nail in your coffin. “i wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, butler.”

“i’m not that bad,” he finally found the strength to stand up, towering over you even with your added inches from your heels.

“you’re literally insufferable,” you mocked, taking the last sip of your drink. “trust me, i was just playing nice. glad to know you’re still the same person as always.”

in some part of austin’s brain, a deep part he repressed quite often, that statement hurt him. he didn’t normally get offended when people assumed he was some sort of man-whore — he was aware of his high body count — but when it came from your mouth, it felt demeaning. he couldn’t fathom why in the world he had any sort of inclination towards you in the first place. maybe he really was too drunk to be in attendance. “glad to know you’re still the uptight bitch i thought you were,” he pushed past you, leaving the room and the surrounding air colder than when you had first entered. you didn’t have the words to respond, but somehow, things were better left unsaid.

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

you’ve had more aneurysms than fingers at that point in your day. it began with the mommy and me karaoke that allison had coerced you into attending with her newborn, rosalie. you were all for mother-daughter bonding, but not when you were neither the mother nor the daughter. either way, you were feeling particularly nice considering rosalie turned 6 months that day, but you claimed that was the only reason why you joined the class.

six months ago, you still had a sense of normalcy rooted in your life, but it seemed as if all you did these days was tag along with the happy couple and their offspring. you didn’t mind it, however, one of the consequences of hanging out with allison and peter… was austin. he was everywhere you looked, every holiday party you attended. you saw him more than you saw your coworkers, which said a lot considering your diligent work in the public relations industry.

if you were perceptive, you would’ve taken that as a sign to stay as far away as possible from allison and peter. but, deep down, you knew that you craved the stability they had in their life. the white picket fence, the grandparents who visited them to drop off gifts for the baby, family dinners each night. it felt foolish, the way jealousy sometimes swept over you late at night when you were alone tossing and turning in your king-sized bed that felt empty.

“so… i started taking rosalie to this new family practice,” allison brought over a potato salad wrapped in saran as you vigorously worked on frosting the hastily decorated chocolate cake. from her tone of voice, you already knew exactly where this conversation was going. “there’s this doctor there. he is so cute. i actually may have replaced my crush on harry styles.”

“mhm,” you’re half tuned into the conversation, but also struggling to see the importance to anything she’s talking about.

“anyway…i noticed no ring,” she placed another bowl beside your cake, ignoring her urge to squint at the work you were doing. “….so, i asked his nurse what was up with him.”

“allison, you did not.”

“what?! [y/n], you’re single and —“

“i thought we agreed to a moratorium on the set ups!” you placed the knife down exasperatedly, pursing your lips and crossing your arms as you turned to face her.

“what if this is your soulmate?!” she clasped her hands together in a begging motion, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her need to induce fear in you with her set-ups.

“you literally have the worst set-up record of all time,” you pointed out, switching the cake to a spot by the window.

“like who?” she asked incredulously, and your mouth gaped open at her question, shocked by her audacity to act innocent in her role in your life.

“do i need to go over adult braces guy? the shoplifter?”

“you’re still holding them over me?” she threw her head back, laughing.

“i’m not even gonna get into the austin debacle.”

“okay, well, i’m still holding out hope for you two,” she raised her hands in defeat, ignoring the way your face contorted in disgust at his name.

“you’re sick in the head, alli,” you rolled your eyes, “please don’t judge me because i don’t have a ring on my finger yet.”

“i’m not!” she rushed to defend her stance, “i just want you to find someone great.”

“and, i will. i promise you’ll be the first to know about it,” you giggled to yourself, and she patted your shoulder reassuringly. although you built a fortress around your heart and desire to start a family one day, there was no need to let allison know anything in that regard, since it would only rile up her efforts more.

unbeknownst to you, peter and austin were outside in the backyard arguing with two teenage boys over their ability to set up a bouncy house. they were meant to act their age, but that didn’t come easy to the two of them, especially not austin, who had found himself in the middle of multiple love scandals in the past year. he was constantly breaking up with women, claiming they weren’t the ones he could see ‘marching towards imminent death with.’ his lack of real love in his life gave you a bit hope for your own story, which was still being written. it wasn’t that you weren’t looking for a boyfriend, it was just that you had been so caught up in the success of your career that you allowed yourself to have to settle for the excuse of it’s okay, i’m dating my job.

austin and peter strolled in through the back door, peter slamming it behind him as austin bounced rosalie up and down in the air. she seemed to love it; granted, she did seem to love her uncle austin more than you. that might’ve been because he had no boundaries or rules whatsoever. in some twisted way, you saw what she saw him in; his ability to dance across life with no timeline, with no cares or worries. you were sure that as a baby, she really stood by that method.

“hey, pumpkin,” austin pulled up right behind you, and you shuddered in disgust at the feeling of his warm breath waning over the back of your neck.

“why do you always have to be so close to me?!” you elbowed him in the chest, and he faked agony as he stepped back from the impact of the blow. allison and peter shared a knowing look, while you just returned to your task of filling the candy bowls.

“aw, rosalie, look. look, that’s what bitter looks like,” that earned another sour look from you.

“hey, austin, why don’t you go take your hat off? we all know about the receding hairline,” you bit back, fighting the urge to slam his head against the cabinets.

“hey, it’s a widow’s peak! i do not have a receding hairline,” he frowned, propping rosalie up on his hip. he glanced over at peter, hoping for some form of agreement, who instead ignored his best friend’s silent pleas.

“okay, you two, play nice today,” allison leaned against the countertop. “all of our neighbors are coming over and i do not want to them to think we run a freak show.”

“well, then you shouldn’t have invited austin.”

“okay, that’s it, i’m not dealing with—“

“shut it!” allison threatened, “now come over here and let me get a nice little picture of rosalie with her godparents.” her tone was anything but soothing.

your eyes nearly rolled into your brain, silently cursing to yourself as you stood next to austin awkwardly. he forced a grin onto his face, arm loosely wrapping around your shoulder. even his touch angered you, his body radiating sarcasm and mockery. just as you thought all hope was lost, that god wouldn’t bless you with any more of your wishes, rosalie burped, opening her mouth and unloading white liquid, splattering onto austin’s white shirt. precisely at that moment, allison pressed down on the button on the camera, capturing your wide-eyed joy (and real smile) and austin gagging at the scent of rosalie’s vomit.

it was going to be a good day, indeed.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

Hey. Idk if you’re okay with taking requests rn but I’m kinda having a shitty day and I’m in desperate need of any comfort. It’s a request not related to either of your series, So, How would Changbin act when he finds out Y/N hates her birthday and gets really depressed during the day? Feel free to say no. It’s okay no pressure ♥️

I'm sorry boo. <3 I hope things get better soon. <3 I love you.

Tags: Changbin, Seo Changbin, SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, Request, Mutuals, Changbin x you, Changbin x reader, Seo Changbin x you, Seo Changbin x reader, Fluff, Angst, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, not OT8, SKZ imagines, SKZ reactions, SKZ scenarios, SKZ Drabble, AU

Genre: Light Fluff, Angst

Title: It's My Birthday, I'll Cry if I Want To

It's after the third sigh that Changbin finally sets down his quill and glances over his glasses at you with slightly exasperated amusement written on his features.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, princess, or are you going to make me guess?"

You heave another longer, more annoyed sigh-just to peeve him a bit-and push back your chair, your body protesting, stiff muscles cracking, as you cross to the window, glancing out onto the courtyard below.

The sun's rays are barely beginning to breach the trees, but it feels like you've been studying for hours already.

"It's my birthday." You don't look at him as you say it, eyes drawn to the movements of a gardener at the edge of the rose bushes, trimming back a few errant leaves.

You vaguely wonder if your mother has thrown another fit again-"the roses are getting out of hand, Reginald!"-and your father-long suffering, patient man that he is, however aloof-had tasked the poor gardener with fixing the apparent problem, no matter how imaginary.

Changbin's chair creaks as he leans back.

"I'm aware of this." When you turn to look back at him over your shoulder, he's smiling, one brow cocked. It gives him a roguish, rakishly handsome air, an air that you doggedly try to ignore. "As is the majority of the kingdom."

"I hate it." You lament morosely, once again turning your attention back to the large picture window, where a new character in the play currently being put on in the garden has emerged-this time, a woman bearing a basket of laundry on her hip, headed for the river.

"I also know this." Your tutor's voice is softer this time, and you dig your fingers into the lip of the window, willing yourself not to turn and look at him once more. You don't want to see the pity on his face. "But you've never told me why."

"I have." You protest sharply, though you know it's not the real reason, just a facsimile you've told him to hide the true pain, and you still don't turn, because you don't want him to see the lie on your face.

You've never been good at hiding things from him.

"It's pointless and mundane and altogether a waste of time. Not to mention, the festivities my parents insist on putting on, not for me, but for show, are boring and long winded and if I have to make one more polite conversation with Duke Fairlough, all the while pretending not to notice him ogling my chest and ass, I'll eat my hat."

Changbin chuckles, and you finally work up the courage to glance back at him, watching you with slight amusement, dark curls gleaming in the dying light of the morning fire.

"You don't wear hats."

"I could start." You object stubbornly, finally turning from the window and returning to your seat across from him, fingers drumming agitatedly along the edge of the table instead of picking up your own quill and returning to your studies.

"You could." Changbin agrees amicably, eyes still lit with slightly amused affection, as he hides a smile and pushes one of your open books toward you encouragingly. "And you could also try to actually apply yourself so you can finish your lessons early and enjoy the rest of your day."

"Hah." You retort, snorting skeptically, even though you know it's a very unladylike thing to do.

You've never worried about being overly ladylike around Changbin. It's one of the many things you like about the man sitting across from you.

"Highly unlikely."

Changbin nudges the book toward you once more with a bitten back grin.

"Try."

You huff with annoyance, but take the offered book, and glancing toward the chaperone standing silently at the door, unmoving, you chance a swift kick at Changbin's ankle under the secrecy of the table.

He dodges you easily, and you feign irritation with a glare, but the grin he gives you in return and the ensuing butterflies swarming in your gut may very well be the only good thing that happens on this, the day of your godforsaken birthday.

*****

"Ridiculous." Your mother mutters once more under her breath from her seat at the writing desk, tossing aside the message she's just received, the heavy, embossed paper spiraling slowly to the floor like a wounded bird. "We attend their daughter's betrothal ceremony, and they can't even make the princess's birthday celebration?"

You try not to wince as the maid currently coiffing your hair elegantly at the back of your head shoves a particularly nasty pin into the recesses of the updo.

"Well." Your mother stands from her chair, huffing under her breath, pacing to the large window and then back again. "They can consider themselves blacklisted for the foreseeable future then."

You bite your lip as another strand of hair gets tugged a little too roughly into place, and stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to make yourself smaller to avoid attracting the angry queen's attention.

Too late.

She comes to stand beside the mirror where you sit, scanning a critical eye over you from head to toe-the heavy, ornate makeup adorning your face, the fancy, flawless coiffed hairstyle, the long, heavy blood red ball gown you wear-and you know, everything is exactly how she asked, and yet, she'll still find something to be unhappy about.

"Myrtle." Your mother says sharply, and the maid snaps to attention, as your mother fingers the pearl earrings you currently wear. "Swap these out for the Swarovski crystals. The moonblood pair."

Myrtle ducks her head silently and scurries to the boudoir to retrieve the requested earrings.

Your mother leans over and picks up the crown resting on the worktop delicately, stroking her fingers over the gems and gold with something akin to affection, something she's never given you, and then she reaches out, putting a rough finger under your chin as she raises your gaze to meet her own in the mirror.

"Sit up straight. Don't slouch."

You do as she asks, and she places the crown carefully on the top of your head, adjusting it until it's perfect and to her liking.

"There." She steps back, as Myrtle appears and changes out your earrings, admiring you with a critical stern eye. "Perfection."

You resist the urge to say anything, biting your tongue, staring at her silently through your reflection in the mirror.

You're not a daughter, you're a doll, a pawn, to be used in her political parties, and you know your place. You always have.

Your mother waves a dismissive hand at the maid, who scurries immediately from the room, probably happy to be out of the queen's oppressive presence, and you wish you could follow her, as your mother returns to her desk and sits, taking out her letter opener once again, which she points at you sternly, before saying, "Oh, by the way, your father sent a gift. I had it put in your chambers."

You rise from the chair, careful not to disturb any of the work put in over the last few hours, and manage to find your tongue.

"Oh, has he left already?"

Your mother doesn't even spare you a glance, already deep into the recesses of her next letter.

"He left this morning. You know this."

You didn't know this, but instead of fighting, you simply nod, and when she doesn't say anything else, take the opportunity to scurry from the room.

The hallway air feels one hundred times lighter, and you suck in mouthfuls of air, desperate to get every inch of that woman out of your lungs, hands on your knees.

"You okay there, princess?"

You glance up, startled, at the familiar voice, and Changbin has paused in his perusal past the hallway, staring at you with clear concern on his face, his fingers paused on the ascot he must have been in the middle of tying around his neck.

"Did you just run a marathon?"

You straighten up, unconsciously reaching up to make sure your crown is still straight, and run your hands down your dress to smooth out any wrinkles.

It's your mother's influence, and you hate it.

"I'm fine." You nod pertly, because suddenly, seeing someone so familiar and caring and warm, after spending so much time in your mother's icy, cold, indifferent presence, is making the back of your throat burn. "Just-"

You shrug, praying to every god above that you don't start crying, not when Changbin is here, looking at you like that.

"-getting ready."

Changbin watches you for another long moment, and then he finally lets you drop his gaze, offering you the hint of a smile, as his fingers once again start tying the ascot, an elegant knot already forming around the collar of his loose dress shirt.

He's wearing black breeches, and knee high boots, and god, is that a sliver of chest beneath the top open button of his shirt-

You force yourself to drag your gaze away from your tutor, out the window beside you, and clear your throat.

"You look nice."

You regret the words as soon as they leave your lips, but Changbin merely cocks his head curiously, staring you down once more, before he grins and replies lightly, "Thanks. I was going to say the same thing about you, your highness. Although 'nice' is probably too bland of a word to describe how you look right now, if I'm being honest."

His open honesty catches your attention and you look at him sharply.

"What word would you use then?"

Changbin looks caught off guard, as if he hadn't expected you to ask, but answers anyway.

"Probably something more along the lines of magnificent. Or perhaps, if I'm being transparent, exquisite."

You swallow at his entirely forthright words, and suddenly, it feels a little too vulnerable-like something taboo-standing here in a back, dark corridor with Seo Changbin-your tutor and a man-without any sort of chaperone, his dark, swirling eyes entirely, dangerously, holding your own, the tension between the two of you so thick that you're almost positive you could cut it with a knife.

You find you like the feeling.

There is a clatter from down the hall, a chef shouting something angrily at a clumsy maid, and the moment is shattered, crashing to the floor at your feet in a million pieces of stained glass.

You take a step back, and Changbin clears his throat, dropping your gaze, as he ducks his head in deference to you.

"I'll see you at dinner, princess."

And without another word, he's gone, and the icy feeling leftover from your mother's words, and your father's absence, is already creeping back into your bones at the lack of his warmth.

*****

"Yes, duke, I'll be right back! Just need to freshen up-"

You dash around the corner, freedom just in sight, and run directly into your mother.

Her fingers curl around your wrist before you even have the time to react, face cold, and voice even colder.

"Where are you going?"

You swallow, schooling a blank expression, and level your voice.

"To freshen up."

She eyes you skeptically, disdain written across her face, blood red lips pulling into the start of a disapproving sneer.

Her fingers tighten around your wrist as she tugs you to her, and you do your best not to wince as they uncomfortably pinch your skin.

Her breath smells of overly sweet wine and perfume, lips brushing your ear as she speaks in a low, cold tone, and you're fairly certain nothing has ever made you more nauseous.

"Don't keep the duke waiting."

She releases you without another word, plastering a bright, artificial smile onto her face, and she enters the room you had just left, a chorus of greetings echoing in your ears, even as you dart for the safety of the garden.

You don't allow yourself to stop running until you reach the rose bush patch, the same bush you had seen being trimmed this morning from your bedroom window, and even then, you're gasping for breath as you slump down onto the cold concrete of the nearby bench, hot tears already threatening at the corners of your eyes.

You swipe at them angrily, the warm liquid splashing down the flushed arch of your cheeks, the breeze instantly cooling the tears against your skin, against your fingertips, even as you wipe them off meticulously against the folds of your dress.

You sniff, taking in a deep breath, and let your head fall back, staring up at the newly emerging stars, wishing you were anywhere, anyone, else.

"Do you want to tell me the truth now?"

You start at the voice, and nearly lurch off the bench in your surprise, eyes wide, heart pounding, as your gaze drops from the sky and to the warm, familiar features of Changbin, watching you from a respectful distance away, hands tucked out of sight behind his back.

"God. How do you always appear out of thin air like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

His expression is carefully schooled, you know, because you've done the same thing countless times in front of your mother.

He gives a half shrug, but doesn't move toward you, watching you with a slight tilt of his head.

"Sorry."

You heave a heavy sigh, and slowly unfurl your tense fingers from the edge of the bench, dropping your gaze now to watch the way the toes of your dance slippers dig into the dirt beneath your feet.

Your mother is going to kill you for the stains later.

You watch the toes of Changbin's riding boots come into your field of vision as he moves closer, and then he takes you by surprise, crouching down in front of you, hands splayed on the bench on either side of your body for support.

He glances up at you, dark eyes unreadable in the evening light, and you hope to god he can't still see the sheen of leftover tears on your cheeks.

"Why aren't you inside?"

"I told you-" You protest halfheartedly, not meeting his gaze, even as you tangle your fingers into the thick folds of your skirt resting in your lap. "-I hate birthday parties."

"Why?"

You feel the words on the tip of your tongue, feel the truth itching to be released.

Because my father is never here, because my mother couldn't care less unless it benefits her, because I'm not even allowed to so much as look in your direction-

But instead, you sigh again and direct your watery gaze back to the sky, willing the tears back into the depths.

When you speak, you're proud that your voice comes out steady.

"Because Duke Fairlough is a creepy old man, nearly twice my age, and yet, my mother pushes the issue every single social event, without fail, because I am nothing if not the star pawn on her twisted, political chess board."

"Hm." Changbin hums a sound of understanding beneath his breath, and you try not to focus too much on the rise and fall of his fingers, the mounds of his knuckles, the swirling pathways of his veins.

You've never noticed, not until you were up close, but the man has pretty hands-soft and ink stained-hands of a poet, or a scholar maybe.

"That does sound wildly unfortunate."

You shoot him a glare at the soft teasing lacing his tone, and he offers you the hint of a gentle smile, before he continues with, "That's not the real reason you're out here though, right? Alone, crying, on your birthday?"

"I am not crying." You protest defensively, instantly, and Changbin chuckles, smiling fully now.

"Okay, princess." He gives in easily, smile fading to something more secretive, something more intimate, cocking his head as he stares at you, and you feel yourself hold your breath, as he reaches up without warning, and slowly ghosts a gentle thumbpad across the skin beneath your eyes.

"It must be raining then."

You sniffle, scared to move, afraid he'll pull his touch back from your skin if you do, and imperceptibly nod in response.

"I can't believe you didn't notice."

He huffs a chuckle, and you're relieved when he doesn't pull back from you.

"I'm a learned man, yes, but I can be entirely too oblivious and thickheaded for my own good sometimes."

You snort beneath your breath, and try not to follow his hand like some sort of starstruck tart as he finally retrieves it from your skin, settling it comfortably back on the bench beside you.

"I am, however, not dumb enough to buy any of that bullshit you've just given me."

You look at him in sharp surprise, you've never heard him curse before, but the look in his eyes has the cutting rebuke dying on your lips.

You've never seen Seo Changbin look so utterly serious before-studious yes, but never this focused-his attention completely on you, dark, swirling eyes scanning your face, molten, angry almost.

"So tell me again. The truth this time. Why, princess, are you alone in the gardens, crying, on your birthday?"

"I-" You start to say, and he shoots you a firm look that stops you in your tracks. You suck in an almost choked breath, and start again. "-don't like birthdays."

"Why?"

"Because he's never here, and she's never cared, and I hate-no absolutely loathe-having to act like I'm better than everyone, above it all, especially you."

He's watching you silently now, watching you catch your breath, watching a literal weight lift off from your shoulders as you finally, finally, blurt out the truth, watching the pounding, broken, bleeding, remnants of your heart, laid bare, just for him.

"What?" You accuse defensively, when he still hasn't said anything, fingers nervously beginning to fidget with your dress once more. "Say something."

"I don't need to say anything."

You wet your lips, staring at him in open surprise now, his face softening slightly as you hold his gaze.

"What?" You repeat again, dumbly, not quite sure you're understanding.

He laughs then-low and relieved, a rumble in his chest-and when his fingers cover your own-warm and soft in contrast to your icy cold, skin and hearts alike-you feel everything jumbled and out of sorts in your chest finally settle into place.

"I don't need to say anything." He repeats again, slower this time, and when he looks at you now, there's nothing but tender honesty in the depths of his dark eyes. His lips quirk into the hint of a soft smile. "I'm sorry you hate your birthday. I'm sorry your father is never here and your mother only plays you for her own little games, but I-"

He takes in a deep, almost jagged breath, fingers tightening over your own, and you resist the urge to tangle yours with his in that moment, palms flat against each other, all warmth and soft skin and spaces finally filled.

He looks at you again, the fire renewed in his gaze, vulnerable and open and entirely honest.

Laid bare, all for you.

You feel the cracks in your aching heart recede slightly.

"-I, for one, am eternally grateful, every year, when this day darkens my doorstop once more."

"Why?" You ask in a breath, even though you're fairly certain, staring at Changbin's face, that you already know the answer.

The slowly healing cracks in your heart-warming and melting the ice that's been there too long, filling it in with something akin to molten lava-are a testament to exactly that.

"Because, princess-" Changbin murmurs, the affection returning to his eyes now, warming his entire face, right down to the tender, beaming smile he gives you, only you. "-it gave all of us, especially me, you."

You bite your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile.

You feel so happy you could cry.

But you've cried enough.

"I never took you for a poet, royal tutor."

He inclines his head, eyes sparkling.

"And I never took you for a romantic, princess."

"I'm not." You admit, squeezing his fingers between your own now, dizzy with sudden giddiness as you stare at the man kneeling before you.

When he looks at you once more, you give him the smile you've been holding back all night-maybe even all your life-just for him.

"But you could make me into one yet."

Changbin grins then, tangling his fingers with your own, and nothing has ever felt more right in your entire life.

Maybe your birthday won't be so bad from now on after all. Not with him by your side. Not with the ice gone, replaced with nothing but sunshine and warmth and bright beams. All because of him.

"Happy birthday, princess."

[bluemusickid]

I got an idea so it’s fluff angst and smut. So Chris hears some bs about his wife and thinks that she’s about to file for divorce and he decides he’s going to one up her and file first. His heart is broken at the thought of even filing but he’s like if she doesn’t want to be with him he wants her to be happy. So he basically hands her the papers one evening at dinner and to his shock she’s mortified and starts crying profusely almost to the point of panic attack. He realizes the horror of a mistake he’s made and that she doesn’t want a divorce and has just been stressed the last few weeks and he realizes what a dumbass he is and she becomes distant because he planted this negativity in their marriage and the media got hold of the papers and he’s publicly fix that and deal with the critics the world. He eventually makes it up to her....in more ways than one. 😉 okay I suck at creating summaries, have fun with it tweak it and feel free to smut it up. Lmao

Oh dude this could be a series in itself. However, I'll try to string something together. Hopefully it'll pull through🥺✨ Also I’ve made a few tweaks, hope you’ll still like it. <3

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, eventual smut, 18+, NSFW

A/N: I'm not the greatest at writing angst, so forgive me if it doesn't live upto your expectations. It’s a bit longer than I usually write, pls stick on, I promise there’s good stuff at the end as well :). I didn’t want to make Chris the asshole here, so kinda changed some parts; hope they’re not glaringly obvious. Also, minors pls DNI. Heed all warnings, they are there for a reason. Your media consumption, should you ignore the warnings, is your responsibility and yours alone. I post my stuff only on Tumblr and AO3, nowhere else. Not beta'ed, any mistakes made are all mine. Dividers by the wickedly talented @firefly-graphics​ (love all your work, sweetie!)

A Burden To Carry

You watched the trees pass by, as you sat in silence. That’s all these car rides were nowadays. What once used to be a source of joy, for you both to sing goofily at the tops of your voices, where people would stare at you at red lights, was now as silent as a graveyard. No music, no talk, just silence. A void.

His sombre voice broke you out of your reverie. “....I’ll be back in a few weeks.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I’ll be leaving for LA, day after tomorrow. I’ll be back in 3 weeks, hopefully.” he said, grimacing at the traffic.

You nodded, absentmindedly, turning your attention back to the outside world. You were ovulating, as your tracker had rudely reminded you, but you didn’t tell him that. There was no point telling him, was there? Having a child right now would be nothing short of disastrous. 

Your stomach flipped as he pulled into Lisa’s driveway. You braced yourself, mentally preparing yourself for an evening of acting like the perfect, loving couple. Keeping secrets from his family was not exactly ideal, but you had to do what was necessary. Wearing a bright smile, you slipped your hand through his, angling yourself towards him. If he found this sudden change in behaviour a bit perplexing, he didn’t say. Wearing a small smile, he greeted your mother in law with a long hug and warm smile, something which you hadn’t been a recipient of for quite some time.

You hated even to think in such a way, but you were actually jealous of Lisa and the affection she could easily get. Dinner was animated, with your extended family in splits and jubilations. You watched it all unfold in front of your eyes, a spectator, a stranger to your own family. You chimed in here and there, best you could. But the responses were hollow, as were you.

You could feel Chris’ gaze upon you once or twice throughout the night. You remembered the times you would catch him looking at you at family events, with pure adulation and lust. Now, it was more of impatience rather than longing. He could see through your façade, and was worried the others would too. 

Standing in his bedroom felt alien. It felt weird, like you were not allowed to be here. You knelt next to the bed, your hand caressing the bedspread, as you remembered the last time you had been here.

You panted as Chris thrust into you, the pent up emotions unleashing when he saw you standing in his bedroom. Reaching up, you caressed his cheek as he thrust into you with shameless abandon. You did your best to keep quiet, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You were just on the edge as was he. Looking up at him, suddenly overwhelmed with the surge of emotions, you kissed him deeply as you both reached your breaking point, moaning loudly into the kiss. 

Remembering this little rendezvous was hard, especially since it had been a long time since both of you had even kissed, let alone had sex. Your eyes filled with tears as the implication of the words hit you like a ton of bricks; no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

This marriage was on it’s last legs. And there was nothing you could do to save it, even if you fought tooth and nail to restore it to it’s past glory. Every time you tried to talk, it seemed to blow up in your face because you both couldn’t reach a common ground. What used to be heated discussions followed by hours of passionate embraces, now used to be silent dinners and nights spent in separate bedrooms.

It had been 2 weeks since Chris had left. You’d talked about a handful of times, him mainly calling to ask about Dodger and you trying to lengthen the conversation by asking about his work. When you saw that even that had failed, you resorted to texting as the primary medium. Switching to Instagram, you were mindlessly scrolling through the explore page, when something caught your eye. A voice at the back of your head told you not to open it, but you did. And you wished you hadn’t.

It was a picture of him and you, in your happy days, with a caption praising you both and adoring your relationship. You didn’t recognize the woman in the picture. She was you, but why was she so happy? It simply wasn’t fair.

You didn’t quite register when the tears started. But when they did, oh did they rack you; threatening to wash away your sanity with them. The pain just wouldn’t stop.

Why were you crying? Didn’t you know how bad it had gotten? The way you were crying, one would think you both were happily married and in love! You still did love him...didn’t you?

You woke up with a start, your phone vibrating obnoxiously. Lisa and Carly’s names were plastered on your notification panel. You switched off your phone, allowing the bed to swallow you. You pretended that the weight of the blanket was just Chris’ arms enveloping you, drifting off to sleep with the pretence of marital bliss calming you.

You sat in the lawyer’s office, watching the lady explain to you about the next steps; but you weren’t listening. You’d made sure no one followed you or the press would have a field day, him bearing the brunt of it all. The word ‘divorce’ made you cringe and clench your hands in a fist. But it was what it was.

You walked back to your car, in a daze. The thought of not seeing Chris everyday tore at your heart more than words could explain. He had become the very reason of your existence, even more precious than the air you breathed. The fact that you had even considered leaving him was crazy, and you hated yourself more than anyone in that moment.

Hugging Dodger, you fell into a disturbed slumber, the distorted images of Chris walking away from you haunting you, leaving chills to the bone.

Chris sat awake in bed, the images he saw leaving him feeling bereft. He tossed and turned, his eyes welling with tears. 

Looks like there’s some trouble in Paradise! Chris Evans’s wife seen exiting lawyer’s office on Thursday. Could this mean that the handsome hunk is on the market again?

The caption irked him more than anything. She had a name, her own identity. Referring to her as your wife took away her individuality. He made a note to call Megan and sort out this mess. He sighed, looking at the picture again. You looked breathtaking, as you always did. But your eyes looked sad, devoid of the sparkle they once carried. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, closing yourself off from the world.

His thumb hovered over your contact, willing to hear your voice at least once. Never had he imagined that you would even consider divorce. He sobbed into his pillow, his heart hurting. He wanted you, he loved you more than anything in this world. He had always imagined growing old with you, having lots of kids with you, going through life’s ups and downs with you by his side.

But he realised that his wants were way less, in comparison to your wants and needs. He couldn’t keep you bound in this marriage if you were miserable; which was evident from these pictures. You weren’t the type to throw in the towel, to quit without trying. He was, is, and would always be proud of you.

Through blurry eyes, he dropped a text before laying down. He may not have been the best husband, but he would do right by you. He would let you follow your heart, if that’s what you truly wished for.

You felt his presence before you heard him enter your house. Your stomach churned as you realised that he had to have seen the pictures. You had gotten a rather stern and cold message from his team, asking you to perhaps hide your face more if you were to visit such places. While you had sent an equally biting reply back, you realised what they had said was true, your spur-of-the-moment decisions could hurt his career.

“Hey.” you heard him say huskily. Gulping, you looked at him with a faint smile. “Hey. How was the flight? Did you eat anything?” you asked, your voice nearly betraying your

“Uhh, no, I was just about to get something. Join me?”

You hesitated a bit, before taking him up on his offer. He went to get everything ready, while you finished up a bit of work before the meal. Getting up, you stretched a bit before going to wash up. Passing the bed, you nearly missed the envelope kept there, with your name on it.

Opening it, you read the words on the pages, your stomach plunging, dread overcoming your nerves. It was your worst nightmare which had come to life. 

He didn’t love you anymore. It was over.

Walking to the dining area, your legs threatening to buckle under stress, you saw him move about, prepping the island. How was he so callous? Did he not care about you at all? Or was his main agenda to wound you before he ended it all?

Hearing you enter, he turned, his smile fading at your expressions. He must’ve guessed why, since he sighed, bowing his head down to avert his gaze.

“So it’s all just over then.” you said, your voice shaking with each word.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. “I just want to see you happy. I am ready to take this decision; I just want what’s best for you.” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper.

You couldn’t believe what he’d just said. The sadness in your heart was fast being overpowered by the anger that was surging and coursing through your veins at his nonchalance. You’d never been this mad at him, ever; even when you both had been dating.

“What’s best for me?! I’m sorry, what’s best for me?!” you retorted, indignance palpable.

“I saw the pictures. I know you were at the lawyer’s office. I put two and two together and decided that if that’s what you want, I wouldn’t stand in your way. I’ll be the one to let you go. I figured you would get lesser hate from the people if it came out that I was the one who had filed for divorce.”

Your breath caught in your throat, taking in his words one at a time. In some warped, twisted way, you understood his intentions behind the act. This was a parting gift of sorts, a goodbye from him. The tears flowed freely as you stared at him blankly. The words were there, but you weren’t sure how to say them.

You weren’t sure you wanted to. Wiping your tears, you looked down, staring at the floor, noticing the physical and metaphorical distance between you. You had to bridge the gap in one way or the other, you realised.

Stepping closer, you tried to keep your voice normal without a hint of anger seeping in. You had to say your part before this man took any other steps.

“While I appreciate the noble sacrifice, Christopher, I wish you had spoken to me before taking this drastic step. But that’s just it, you don’t want to talk, you just assume. Yes, I did go to the lawyer’s office and yes, I did consider getting a divorce, but I didn’t do anything after that. I. walked. away. You know why? Because the thought of being away from you, not having your presence in my life ripped my heart into shreds. I would’ve told you all this but were you there? No. You never are. It’s always your work, your family, your friends, your life. I’m just a small part of it, conveniently slipped in at the last moment in any plans you make, provided it suits you. My work, my life, my family, all takes the backseat, doesn’t it? So yes, forgive me for thinking that this marriage was over because it was crystal clear to me, or any sane person for that matter, the day you decided to sleep in the guest room!” you said, your voice rising to a crescendo.

Chris looked into your eyes, a mix of shock and disbelief rife in them. There were no words said, only pindrop silence. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, waiting for his retort. There always was, with him. A minute passed, then another. There was only the sound of the wind bellowing against the trees and the window. He said nothing, except stare off into the distance. Finally, after several minutes, he spoke.

“I know what I did was wrong. I know that I suck at communication, and that I like having my own compartments, my own space. And I agree with you, I am selfish. But you knew that ever since the beginning of our relationship. You knew that I have a tough time dividing time, and you still married me, and went along with it. You never said a word either! How was I supposed to know how you were feeling?! Communication, you say? You never did that either! So don’t go around saying that you felt invisible when in reality, you are to blame as well!” he cried, a sheen of tears visible on his eyes.

Holding onto the counter, you sighed. “But you saw me, Chris. You saw me miserable; hell, not just me, but you as well. You never said anything, just went along from one social event to another, like it didn’t matter to you. Isn’t the point of being in a relationship the very fact that I don’t have to always spell stuff out for you? I didn’t say anything in the hopes that you would ask me, at least once, if I felt alright. I said nothing because I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. You saw me like this and went off to party with your friends the next day, and leave for L.A. after that. Did you even ask me before planning that? No. You just left. Left me alone, without even properly calling me, let alone dropping texts even once a day. I would consider myself lucky the day I got a proper reply from you, which wasn’t monosyllabic!”

You choked up, the memories all flooding back. No, no. You had to get through this, he had to know. If you stopped now, it would be over.

“Going to the lawyer was a mistake. It was a moment of weakness. I didn’t know where else to go, who to talk to, what to say. I was completely in over my head.” Turning to him, you looked into his eyes, tears not stopping. “I love you, I always will. But I’m hurt, and I’m angry. It seems like I’m the one putting in the effort, fighting the fight, fighting for us. You’re just there, living your life. It got to this point because you didn’t even feel like making changes, asking questions. You let it happen as well. I can’t always be the one to say sorry, to help you. At some point, I want you to also prioritise me. To give up a party and stay with me for dinner. To just spend an evening with me. Is it too much to ask for?”

Chris listened to your impassioned speech silently. He had no reply, he knew he was wrong. You suddenly felt fatigued, the heaviness of the past few months weighing down on you. You wanted to sleep, you wanted peace. You looked at him for a moment, wanting to say something more, but instead turned around and went to your room, unable to process anything more.

That night, as you drifted off, you felt the bed dip under his weight. You slept a dreamless, calm sleep that night. After months.

A few months had passed since your fight that night. You had to admit, there had been some changes. He made it a point to never get up from bed till you woke up, following which he had breakfast with you. There were still silences, gaps to be filled, but you were content. He even made Friday nights designated movie nights. You still couldn’t bring yourself to share intimacy with him just yet, the memories were still raw and things were still awkward. There was the occasional cuddling, or the peck before he left for a shoot. But that was it. Sometimes you wished everything would go back to normal. Your body yearned for him, to feel him, to hold him. But your mind, your heart was at war. You needed time.

It had been a few weeks since then. You’d come back home from a family dinner, which went well. The kids were stuck to Chris like glue, and he wasn’t complaining. You watched their backyard antics with amusement, briefly wondering how he would be with your kids. You had to admit, seeing him with the kids didn’t help with your warring feelings. You wanted him, plain and simple, as always. But this time, your mind was yearning as well. You wanted to be with your husband, your lover, your everything. He caught you watching from the window, giving you a warm smile. He probably saw the look in your eyes, his eyes darkening a bit. You returned his smile, quickly closing the drapes. Heel, girl.

The drive home was silent, but not awkward. The air was thick with tension, both of you stealing glances at each other. You nervously bit your lip, trying to calm down. Your nerves were getting the best of you. What if it wasn’t the same anymore? What if you’d lost the passion you’d shared earlier?

You were brought back from your reverie as Chris placed a hand on your knee, indicating your arrival at home. You walked to the front door, fumbling with the keys. You felt, rather than heard him behind you, his presence threatening to scorch you. He inched closer to you, his torso ever so slightly touching your back as he leaned forward.

“Breathe, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear. Your breath faltered, his proximity driving you crazy. You opened the door, fumbling a little with the lock, wondering what would happen once you were inside. It was so strangely symbolic, you thought to yourself, it was like entering into a new chapter with him.

You were moving towards the bedroom, when you felt him clasp your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Turning around, you met his eyes, the muted light making his eyes appear a darker shade of blue. He placed a kiss on your hand, his sincerity and his love shining through his eyes, filled to the brim.

And when he guided you to your bedroom, something felt different; like something had shifted. You felt giddy and happy, like it was your first time with him. The room was dark, only lighted by the moonlight which was peeking through the drapes. He looked into your eyes, uncovering all your secrets, all your desires, all your emotions.

He kissed you softly, tongues meshing together, as you both poured the love you felt for one another into that kiss. He undressed you gently, kissing every inch of you that he uncovered; trailing his lips down your neck with feather soft kisses. You gasped and held onto his shoulders as he took one of your swollen peaks in his mouth, alternating between sucking and biting. Groaning, you threw your head back, the sensations flooding you. It was a strange sensation of both being new, yet familiar. He turned his attention to the other peak, his hands caressing your body, trailing lower and lower, till he reached your core. Looking up into your eyes, he lightly touched your folds, groaning at the moisture he felt there. Finding your swollen nub, he began circling it; slowly at first, then adding a finger to increase his speed. You whimpered, the sensations so delicious yet so intense. Hitching a leg on his hip, you held onto his head, your noses close enough to touch. He withdrew his arm, stopping his amorous assault as he sensed you were close. 

Picking you up, he lowered you softly onto the bed, his lips stuck to yours. He got up slightly to undress, when you stopped him. You needed to touch him, to feel him. It was the only way you could be sure of what you wanted, and what you felt. Unbuttoning his shirt, you pulled it off him, running your fingers over his strong, toned body. Leaning down, you left soft feather kisses along the column of his torso, lightly grazing his nubs with your tongue. He groaned, his hands making their way into your hair. Undoing his pants, you looked at him as you took him in your hand, pumping him slowly. You kissed his tip, running your tongue over his length as you took him into your mouth completely. He gasped, holding onto your head to anchor you. After a few minutes, you increased your speed, wanting more of him; like it would never be enough.

He stopped you abruptly, running his thumb over your lips, a small smile ghosting on his face. Pushing you back, he parted your legs before settling between them. The welcome burn you felt as he entered you, was like no other. This was it. You missed this; the intimacy, the sensuality, the love and lust you felt for one another intertwining, as your bodies became one. He was buried to the hilt, as he moved slowly, allowing you time to adjust. As he looked into your eyes in the moonlight, he knew; he knew you needed more. His thrusts became faster, more frenzied, nothing like the soft lover he was a few minutes ago. He was like a man consumed; his thrusts shaking the entire bed frame. You keened as he pounded into you while hitching your leg over his hip. The new position made you see stars, as he hit new spots with each thrust. You hung on as you felt yourself hurtling to completion.

“Let go, sweetheart.” Chris muttered through gritted teeth. He wanted you to come before he did, needing to feel your silky walls engulf him completely.

That’s all it took for you to reach your peak, screaming his name as you ran your fingernails over his back, the warmth of the orgasm washing over you like a wave. Holding you down, he pounded into you till he reached his peak as well, shouting as he coated your walls with his spend.

You enjoyed being in his arms; the calm after the storm. His steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep, there was only one thing on your mind. 

You would get through this with him by your side, no matter how long it took. That’s all that mattered. 

Taglist: @donutloverxo @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @patzammit @savior-adriana @chrissquares @chris-butt @uhuhuh @tenaciousperfectionunknown @starlightcrystalline @tinylumpiaa @whosmarisaaarw @jbreenr @melli0112 @harrysthiccthighss @a-little-counter-esperanto @annasofiaearlobe @bigchoose @violentyoshi ​

[angryschnauzer]

Distraction

Summary: As a junior CIA agent you are added to a mission to help with scientific analysis, but when half the team are hospitalised you have to suddenly become a hands on field agent, alongside August Walker and Will Shaw. When the final part of the mission at a tropical plant glass house has an unexpected side affect, you have to work as a team to survive the night.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader x Will Shaw Fandoms: Mission Impossible: Fallout (Movie), The Cold Light of Day (Movie), Henry Cavill - Actor.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Sex Pollen, Threesome, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Blowjob, Cum Play, Double Penetration, Anal Sex.

A/N: This is my first time writing the Sex Pollen trope, so i hope you like it. Fic is unbeta’d; only the finest free range organic typos for me. I do not run a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you will then get an alert when i post something new.

Back catalogue can be found on AO3 Link Here, or you can follow my facebook page HERE.

 Distraction

 If there had been someone narrating a movie of this mission, the first line would have been ‘it was a simple mission’. However, they would have been lying. The mission was far from simple, it was convoluted, complicated, and the team fucking hated each other.

 The team were scheduled to arrive via two flights, from opposite directions of the globe as not to arouse suspicions that a large team would do if anyone was picked up on facial recognition. You had been brought on board because of your scientific and tech background, and as the team were tasked with retrieving the formula for the most dangerous biological weapon in the world, you were the one that would check they had the right thumb drive before the mission was able to be called a success. There would be multiple extraction points, numerous undercover assignments that would all lead to the final extraction at the gala dinner.

 That was the plan. What actually happened was the half of the team coming in from Dallas ended up with severe food poisoning and were currently being hospitalised in a local treatment facility. That left just your half of the team, and the senior agent now in charge was none too happy about it;

 “I’ve got a fucking chemistry nerd and a number cruncher for a hands on mission that requires multiple scenes where infiltration and distraction are needed, and neither of you have any fucking field work!”

 August Walker hated everyone and made sure he did everything he could so that everyone hated him in return. The other member of the team quietly ground his teeth, Walker never once let him forget that he came into this agency completely by accident following a rogue faction and a situation that started with the death of his CIA Agent father, and resulted in smashing up half of Madrid’s traffic in a 24 hour long series of car chases;

 “I was a stockbroker, and i didn’t hear anyone complaining when i discovered the currency discrepancies that found us the targets insider trading”

 Will Shaw was so similar yet so different to Walker it was startling, you even thought they looked similar enough to be long lost brothers, but never dared to mention it.

 The hotel suite had all the facilities you needed to set up a small command post, with enough counter space to set up the laptops and work-stations, whilst not getting under each other's feet. However it was still small enough for the two men to continually bicker and make snide remarks at each other, and you had to push the earpiece of your surveillance equipment closer to your ear to hear, finally you heard what you needed to, holding your hand up and clicking your fingers at the two men who immediately silenced and crossed the room;

 “They’re going to be at the MMA Gym in thirty minutes”

 “Okay” Walker huffed; “We need to extract the codes from his device that will give us access for the holding location. You and Shaw take the gym and cause the distraction, i’ll get the codes”

 Will shook his head;

 “Not gonna work”

 “It's not?” you were surprised

 “The gym is men only, the only women are administration and janitorial”

 “That’s fucking antiquated” August spat out in disgust.

 You had to hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of your mouth, that August Walker of all people would be an advocate for equal rights, but nonetheless started to prepare for the first distraction.

 -

 Walker and Shaw had entered the building separately but within 5 minutes of each other, signing in under false names and keeping it simple and silent as they started training on the weights and cardio machines in the gym. You had already entered through the basement deliveries door which you’d been able to pick the lock of, finding a staff uniform t-shirt in the storeroom and pulling it on over your top. You could hear both men through their hidden comms, and within a couple of minutes pretending to sort out a cleaning kart that you knew the morning crew had finished with, you heard the code word that the target had entered the weights room.

 Seconds later you were tentatively pushing the door to the locker room open, calling out;

 “Housekeeping!”

 You had no idea if they called themselves housekeeping or janitorial staff or whatever, but when you didn’t get a reply you quickly entered the room and did what needed to be done. 

 Through your ear piece you could hear the first stage of the distraction starting, with your two fellow agents starting to challenge the other to out lift each other, and from the muffled background noise you could tell that they were drawing a crowd of onlookers.

 Tapping your comms you alerted Walker and Shaw that you’d been successful, and that it was time for them to leave. But as you got no response you quickly made your way out of the locker room through the other exit, only to find yourself in a glass walled corridor, the gym on the other side of the glass. What surprised you however was that there was now a huge crowd of spectators as they watched your two agents try to pull out more reps on the bicep curl machine. Scowling you grabbed a cloth and bottle of spray cleaner and squirted the glass, glaring at the two of them before they finally saw you;

 “Its time to go, dumbasses. Finish the contest. I’ll be in the car in the street behind the building”

 -

 Pushing through the door of the hotel suite you scrunched your nose as Will pushed past you, August not far behind;

 “You two need a shower… did you really need to get that sweaty?”

 “Well… you wanted the distraction to look convincing, didn’t you?” Will shot back, stripping his t-shirt off, already halfway to the bathroom.

 A quiet cough behind you drew your attention away from Will’s sculpted back muscles;

 “When you’re done staring at Shaw…”

 “I...I wasn’t stare…”

 “Whatever sweetheart, either way; you two need to change”

 Looking down at your outfit you pulled at the gym t-shirt;

 “Yeah, i can just find a utility shirt or something…”

 “No, you’re front of house with me. Will’s taking the extraction of the thumb drive”

 “But...I didn’t bring an outfit…”

 August nodded to a pile of bags in the corner of the room from the agents that hadn’t made it to the mission but their luggage had;

 “So check Marianne’s, she is about the same size as you. Either way its you and me sweetheart, now get dolled up, you can’t go to a gala looking like that”

 -

 Twenty minutes later you took a deep breath; you’d found Marianne’s bag and had found that although she was a similar size to you, it was one size smaller. She also had a completely different taste and style to makeup and you were now way out of your comfort zone. The red lipstick however seemed to work, a touch of gold bronzing powder across your shoulders and chest made the red silk dress really work for you. Adjusting the straps so they sat over the top of your bra, the pretty floral pattern hopefully not too noticeably jarring against the sultry silk. Taking a deep breath you stepped out of the small dressing room and came face to face with Will;

 “Oh hey” he looked you up and down before clearing his throat; “Looks good”

 “Yeah?” you smoothed the dress down over your stomach

 “I mean… the bra kinda takes away from the look… but yeah, it looks really good”

 “I...I didn’t have anything suitable for a gala, this is Marianne’s… from her bag…”

 Will stood in front of you, reaching his hand around your back and with a quick snap of his fingers he’d unfastened your bra;

 “It really will look better without the bra… trust me…”

 Without another word he turned and crossed the room, pulling his tie from his bag, fastening it as August emerged from the other room;

 “Agent. Bra off, now”

 Shimmying the offending garment down your arms you pulled it out of your dress as he crossed the room;

 “I don’t see why…”

 “Because the people at this gala have got so much money they flaunt what they’ve got. You’ve got to fit in” He held his finger out and you hooked it over the protruding digit.

 “We’d better get going… the gala is about to start”

 With a nod August grabbed the keys to the BMW you’d been assigned and tossed them to Will; he was taking on the role of Driver and Bodyguard to your’s and August’s ‘couple’, the three of you filed out of the room and into the elevator.

 The ride down the highrise hotel was slow, and you could feel both men’s eyes on you as they stood behind you, before the doors finally opened to the basement parking. You struggled to keep up with them as they strode out with their long legs, the heels of your stiletto sandals clicking on the cement. Finally as you reached the car you were surprised as August opened the door for you, not uttering a word as he watched you climb in before he rounded the car and slid into the back seat beside you.

 You’d barely had time to fasten your seatbelt before Will was peeling out of the hotel parking with a squeal of tyres and you were heading to your destination.

 “Panties, off” August’s words surprised you

 “W-WHAT?!”

 “Panties. Take them off”

 “Agent Walker…”

 “They dig into the meat of your hips and take the attention away from the sexiness of the dress. You need to fit in tonight”

 “B-b-but…” you attempted to stall, but without another word August pulled your knees towards him and slid his hands beneath your dress. He grasped the thin elastic straps that ran over your hips and pulled hard, snapping the fragile pieces of fabric and pulling the now ruined undergarments. Glancing at Will he had a brief smirk on his face but quickly looked away, concentrating on the road ahead. 

 -

 The gala was amazing, and it was hard not to get absorbed into the evening as if you were a real guest. You could hear everything through the hidden comms units in your ears, and apart from the occasional grunt as Will silently passed the guards as he made his way further into the underground chambers that ran below the massive glasshouse the gala was in, it seemed to all be going exactly to plan. The host had announced for everyone to celebrate, and you had found yourselves being swept onto the dancefloor, and suddenly you were in August’s arms as he held you close, the music thankfully loud enough to drown out your conversation from the ears of others;

 “Do you think he’s getting on ok?”

 “He’d say if he wasn’t” August assured you as he moved in time to the music, his hand on your lower back pulling you closer to his body. At that very moment you both heard a guttural cry through the comms, your eyes wide in panic as he grabbed your hand and you quickly made your way through the crowd;

 “Shaw, come in… are you ok?”

 You heard gurgling on the comms and watched as August pulled out his phone and activated the trackers that you all wore, the two of you coming up together on screen, but the third - Will’s - showing as on the level below and not moving.

 -

 The stairs had been hell in your heels, eventually you’d kicked them off and had run barefoot behind August, chasing him around corners and along corridors, before he’d finally come to a halt in front of a sealed door, his phone showing that Will was in the room behind it.

 “Stand back”

 You took a couple of steps back and watched as August kicked the door, the deafening bang as it broke from its hinges and splintered in was immediately forgotten as a sudden rush of air came out of the room, covering him in a dusting of strange grey-pinkish powder. He fell to the floor coughing and you rushed to his side;

 “Check on Shaw! I’m fine!”

 Quickly entering the room you looked around, finally seeing Will laying on the floor, he too was covered in the powder. Kneeling at his side you checked his pulse, relieved to find one as he opened his eyes and groaned.

 “What happened? Are you ok?”

 “Stop fussing, i’m fine… we gotta get out of here. Security will be on their way…”

 At that moment August appeared at your side;

 “Did you get it?”

 “Yeah, i got it”

 Will held out the thumb drive and pushed it into your hand as August pulled him to his feet, and they attempted to dust themselves off as the three of you staggered down the hallway and out of the fire exit.

 -

 Pushing into the hotel room, both Will and August had already shed the majority of their clothing, now dressed in just their smart dress pants and under shirts, still coughing from the dust cloud that lingered in their airways. You’d run the briefest of tests with the tiny blood monitor that you’d kept in the car to ensure it wasn’t a known nerve agent or poison before you’d even left the extraction point, thankfully the results being negative, but both men needed to wash off whatever it was as soon as possible. But first, you needed a proper sample;

 “Agent Shaw, i need to take some blood, hair and saliva, run it through the test software, to see if whatever it was has synthesised into your bloodstream” you nodded to the small scientific station you’d set up at the end of the table, the case having contained tiny gadgets that amounted to a microscope, a mass spectrometer, and other testing equipment… the whole point of why you in particular had been placed on this mission.

 A minute later you’d collected the samples, trying hard not to get flustered as Will had stood in front of you bare chested and in just his underwear, heat radiating from his body;

 “So what do you think it is?”

 “I have no idea”

 “Well i’m burning up, i need to take a shower”

 Quickly loading the samples into the rapid mass spectrometer you turned to Agent Walker to check his vitals and let out a tiny squeak of surprise when you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed in just his underwear. His chest was flushed and he had a sheen of sweat over his entire body;

 “I guess i’m next?”

 Pressing your hand to his forehead you could feel he was burning up;

 “I’m going to check your temperature first”

 Quickly using the thermal reader you could see that his core temp was heading towards fever;

 “I’m going to take the samples then as soon as Will is out of the shower you need to get in there”

 “Yes Ma’am” he chuckled, closing his eyes as you pushed your fingers through his hair to pluck a sample strand. The powder had caught in the strands and it was only as you combed your fingers through the dark locks did you realise he had soft curls. As you tried to separate them he let out a groan as you stroked his scalp. He swayed a little even though he was sitting down, and before you could do anything his hands were on your hips to steady himself, the heat almost searing through the silk of your dress. 

 Finally having got all the samples you needed you reluctantly pulled away, not saying a word as he simply flopped back onto the bed with a smirk on his face. You busied yourself preparing the test samples from Agent Walker, the machine finishing with Shaw’s. You were vaguely aware of the shower being turned off and the men moving around the room, before the shower was on again and you presumed it was August in there.

 Peering at the saliva samples through the microscope you frowned, the particles present completely organic and very familiar.

 “So what is the diagnosis Doc?”

 Will’s voice surprised you, and as you jumped and turned your eyes went wide when you saw he was in just a towel, tied low on his waist as he drank from a bottle of water.

 “Y-You don’t want to put some clothes on?”

 He looked down at himself, almost surprised to find he was only wearing a towel and shrugged;

 “No point, the way i’m burning up i’ll be naked soon” he nodded to the screen; “So?”

 Turning your attention back to the screen you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry;

 “Well… it seems organic, spores of some kind. Its hard to tell what they are from, but their chemical make-up is unique. The only time i’ve seen anything similar is in isolated microclimates that are cut off from the rest of nature… there was this one… in a volcano… a pollen from a plant that grew in tropical climates…” you trailed off as you sensed another presence now flanking your other side, glancing away from the microscope, taking in the sight of August in an identical outfit to Will, his broad expanse of chest at eye level as he bent down to look into the microscope.

 “Hmmn… so, how’s it gonna affect us? The gala was in a fucking giant greenhouse; you saw the plants they were growing there, some of them were 20ft tall and looked like they’d come from another planet. Do we need to pop an antihistamine or something, what’s it gonna do?”

 Standing you quickly slid out from between the two barely dressed men, checking the mass spectrometer and frowning;

 “It seems to be elevating your testosterone levels…” you peered at the saliva results; “...and pheromones… your bodies are heating up where your body is fighting against the pollen, its affecting all your hormones...”

 “Pheromones…” Will mused; “... that’s the sex hormones, right?”

 “Urrr…” you faltered, looking up at the two men who were now looking at you like hungry wolves.

 August stepped closer;

 “Sweetheart, i think you’d better get yourself tested too…” he paused, his finger hooking beneath the thin strap of your dress, making you acutely aware you were completely naked beneath it; “... cos’ i could smell you from across the room… and you smell so sweet right now…”

 You went to take a step back, only to bump into the hard expanse of Will’s naked chest, his hand curling around your arm;

 “C’mon, lets get you tested…”

 You were suddenly putty in their hands, your head swimming and it was only then that you realised you were burning up. It felt like you had a core of lava within you, and the only thing you could liken it to was a hot flash, your body flushed with heat. You recalled the time you’d overheard a much older agent talking to her friends, unaware you had been in the room and she’d spilled the beans on how she would recover from an episode and calm her hormones down... with the help of her husband.

 As your head had been swirling, Will had taken your blood sample and had loaded it into the mass spectrometer, having watched as you’d shown him before the mission. But you could barely concentrate;

 “I...I know how to counteract the affects of the pollen…” you panted out, unsteady on your feet as you swayed and August caught you in his arms

 “Oh yes?”

 “En… Endorphins… they counteract… they burn off the pheromones…”

 You felt hot breath on the back of your neck as Will pressed against you;

 “I’m not a scientist, but i know how to create endorphins…” 

 His lips made contact with your neck and you turned to jelly, your head resting against his shoulder and your eyelids drooping, barely open, yet you had enough of your senses to be aware of August in front of you, pulling the straps of your dress down your arms, you pliable in his hands as he stripped you of your only remaining garment, pressing his lips to your over heated skin as went as the silk pooled at your feet;

 “So beautiful…”

 “Absolutely” Will agreed from behind, his lips grazing over your jawline as his arms reached around you and cupped your tender breasts; “We need to work as a team to get through this… what are the hazards of hot flashes then Doc?”

 “Y-Y-You can over heat your brain… your heart could give out…”

 “Uh-huh… and endorphins will help stop this?” August enquired, his breath hot on your naked chest

 “Y-yeah…”

 That was the last word spoken for a very long time. From that point on the only sounds in the room were hums of pleasure combined with the carnal soundtrack of three bodies moving towards the inevitable. By the time you got to the bed both men had lost their towels, hard naked bodies pressed against your soft curves, sculpted hard muscle available everywhere you touched, and oh did you touch… and caress and stroke, the second you’d reciprocated their affections they had softened to your touch, sighs of pleasure as your fingertips gave them just the slightest relief.

 You found yourself sandwiched between the two men on the soft covers of the king-size bed, each taking turns to capture your lips for searing kisses, each having their own unique talent and style with their tongues. When you were deep in August’s embrace you felt Will move down the bed, his hands pulling your legs apart before he pressed kisses up your inner thighs and his mouth made contact with your soaked folds. The cry of pleasure that erupted from your mouth broke the kiss, yet August didn’t seem to mind as your hand had found its way to being wrapped around his weeping shaft, tugging him sloppily as you struggled to concentrate;

 “That’s it Sweetheart, you don’t need to be gentle… i like it rough…”

 You tried to answer, but Will’s tongue had found your soaked entrance as his hand curled around your thigh and sought out your clit, the pleasure he was giving you was too intense to allow you to form coherent words. August claimed your lips again for another searing kiss, humming his appreciation as you worked your hand over his heated flesh.

 Before you knew it you were coming hard, your orgasm tearing through your body as you ground your core against Will’s face, his eyes sparkling from between your thighs, and as you were floating on the high of the afterglow you could feel the two men moving you, adjusting you to suit their needs.

 On all fours on the bed you were faced with August’s dick, opening your mouth instinctively to take him deep, the heavy weight on your tongue a welcome feeling. Saliva spilled from the corners of your mouth as you struggled to stretch around his girth. At the same time you felt Will’s powerful thighs pressing against the back of your own, the velvet touch of his bulbous crown pressing to your still trembling hole before with a grunt he thrust into your soft body.

 There were only grunts and gasps of pleasure, the two men rocking your body between them as they defiled you in the basest of ways, but that you were eager to participate in, the mixing of pheromones in the room removing your inhibitions, knowing that it was an act of survival. You could feel your body climbing again, your orgasm imminent. You felt the first salty tang of August’s seed on your tongue, the tensing of his muscles as his body prepared to release into the welcome warmth of your mouth. His massive hand cupped your chin and pulled your head up to look him in the eye as he finally reached his peak, grunting curses as he pumped thick ropes over your tongue, raining praise upon you as you swallowed everything he gave you. 

 August fell back onto the pillows, but before you could let gravity take hold of you too Will wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you upright until you were pressed against his chest, his hips thrusting as he filled you so deliciously from behind. Through lust soaked gaze you watched August watching the pair of you as you fucked in front of him, his eyes travelling down your heated body until he was watching where your bodies were joined, how Will’s thick cock stretched you out so well.

 “Get your finger on her clit Shaw, i wanna watch you make her come undone”

 Doing as the senior agent instructed, Will snaked a hand down your stomach, rubbing tight firm circles against your sensitive bud as he continued to fill you, until you were shaking, hanging onto the precipice of pleasure and that final flick of his finger was enough to set off another orgasm. 

 The vice-like grip of your velvet walls was the final trigger for Will, and with a sin filled groan he pushed in one last time and you could feel him spilling deep inside you.

 Finally he pulled out, carefully setting you down onto the soft bedcovers. Your eyelids felt heavy, but the burning deep in your body seemed to be sated. You felt the men moving around the bed, a large hand cupping the back of your neck before lifting you from the bed a little;

 “Drink…”

 Opening your eyes, you watched as August lifted a water bottle to your lips, making sure you gulped down the chilled water before pulling away;

 “How… how are you guys feeling?”

 He turned and sat on the bed beside you, his finger trailing down your neck and between your breasts, and only then could you see the sheen as his skin glistened with sweat, a droplet running down his abdomen to where his cock stood hard and proud from a thatch of dark curls;

 “Not… not quite done yet…”

 Gently pushing you back down onto the bed he tossed the empty bottle aside before crawling atop of you, capturing your mouth with his as you felt the nudge of his hardened dick breach your body, his wide expanse of chest pressing you to the bed. He didn’t start out gentle and it only got rougher, ploughing into your body as he sought to relieve the effects of the pollen coursing through his veins like fire, burning within him until all that was left was red hot embers of passion. Your body writhed beneath him, begging for more, eagerly taking whatever he could give.

 He hit spots you didn’t know existed, your back arching with pleasure as he filled you, your hardened nipples almost too sensitive from his chest hair roughly rubbing against them, the stimulation almost too much until the levy broke and you came hard, your fingers digging into his back to leave dark welts, the pain his trigger for the final thrust as he pumped you full of his seed. 

 Finally he rolled off you, laying at your side as your chests heaved, struggling to catch your breath when you felt another hand grasp at your wrist;

 “Babe… please… i need you…”

 Looking to Will you saw a pained look on his face as he sat partially propped up against the pillows, his chest soaked and his dick standing hard and proud;

 “Please…” he begged.

 Somehow you found the energy to move, your body still shaking but yet you straddled his lap, pushing his sweat soaked curls from his face;

 “It’s going to be ok Will, i’ll take care of you… its ok…”

 You sank down onto his waiting body, taking him where August had been only a minute before, the comingled seed lubricating you as this new angle found yet more pleasure points that had remained undiscovered until then. Wills hands moved to your hips, his grip tight as he gritted his teeth and moved you on his lap, rocking you to ride him like a rodeo stallion. Sweat dripped down your body, rivulets running between your breasts as you threw your head back and basked in the flood of pleasure chemicals soaking your brain. The haze of lust clouding time and space as you came to another orgasm, Will filling you with another load of his thick cum, your cries of pleasure finally ebbing away as you collapsed on his heaving chest, his hands stroking your back whilst your bodies stayed joined.

 A pair of strong arms lifted you off of Will and set you down on the mattress, August’s dark smile haunting over you as he parted your legs and kissed down your thigh, before with a smirk he bit the soft flesh. It wasn’t enough to break the skin but the pleasure pain receptors in your mind were immediately set off again, and you knew that even if you couldn’t see the mark you’d feel it for days to come. He lifted your legs and parted them, his face at your centre, yet where his tongue ended up you let out a squeak of surprise as he circled your back entrance. 

 “Oh, OH… August…”

 “Mmmnnfff” was all that could be heard as he pushed his tongue at your asshole, his thumb pressing against your clit as he worked you open, your body deceiving you as a fierce orgasm washed over you almost immediately. When he pulled away he had a smug look on his face;

 “Thought as much… hold tight…”

 He quickly disappeared to the bathroom, before returning with a small bottle in his hand. Pouring some of the liquid contained within on his fingers, he worked the oil over your skin before pushing his thick finger into your ass, eagerly praising you as he worked your body until you were ready.

 “Walker… hurry up and fuck her… i’m burning up here, i need another round…” Will gasped out as August moved you.

 “C’mere then Shaw, we’re never gonna get this out of our systems if we have to wait to take turns…”

 Even through the haze of the pollen Will immediately got what August was saying, the pair of them pulling you from the bed before Will took you into his arms;

 “Jump…”

 With a surprising amount of strength Will pulled you up, your legs hooked over his forearms as he angled his hips to push his dick back into your cum soaked cunt, letting gravity help as he sank deep. Just as you thought you were about to overbalance a hard chest pressed against your back, August stooping behind you as he took his iron hard dick in hand and sought out purchase on your ass;

 “Gonna take this as slow as i can Sweetheart…”

 Slow didn’t seem slow enough, and you cursed Newton and the laws of physics as the same forces that had pulled you down onto Will did the same with August, leaving you gasping for air as you were filled in both holes. The boys held you up, in place and still whilst they resisted ravaging your body, fighting against the pollen until they could no longer hold back and they unleashed their raw power upon your body. Fucking you in tandem with the thinnest of walls separating themselves inside you, they defiled your body as you begged for more; harder, deeper, faster. It was never enough.

 -

 The night ebbed away into the mists of time, each sex act more depraved than the last, the three of you driving the deadly force of the pollen from your bodies in an endless battle of lust.

The last thing you recalled was the sun rising as the two men stood before your kneeling body, spraying your face and breasts with a final load before sleep finally claimed your sated body.

 -

 Bright light streamed in the window and you winced as your head pounded. A deep voice could be heard but you weren’t listening. A warm body beside you shifted and a large warm hand pressed to your aching abdomen, soothing the overworked muscles. A soft pair of lips pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and the lack of moustache told you it was Will that was spooning you.

 “C’mon Agents, rise and shine” August barked from the bathroom doorway, packing his things; “Got a flight to catch in two hours, debriefing in twelve”

 -

 Closing the file you nodded at your superiors, their approval of a good job done ringing praises in your ears as the debriefing ended, people pushing their chairs out and making small talk as they were dismissed for the weekend and a well deserved rest.

 Walking to the elevator you didn’t make eye contact, trying hard not to wince as your thighs rubbed together and you felt the bite that August had given you, wanting to avoid any probing questions. You’d skimmed over a lot in your report, mainly the sex-pollen induced orgy that had taken place, but as the thumb drive with the vital data on had been recovered no-one was concentrating on the part between the retrieval and the debriefing.

 The elevator dinged as the doors opened, and absentmindedly you stepped in, looking out of the glass windows as you were only partially aware of just a few other passengers. It was only when you realised you were flanked on both sides did you look up and see that August and Will were either side of you. 

 With a smirk August handed you a file;

 “This wasn’t needed for the debriefing”

 You flicked it open and saw that it was the mobile test data from the hotel room;

 “Yes, probably for the best” you agreed, your throat dry.

 As you held the pages Will pointed to a trio of lines towards the bottom. For a moment you stared at the numbers before you recognised what they meant;

 “That’s our results…”

 You felt August’s breath hot on your ear as he whispered;

 “Look at yours…”

 You saw the readings of Will and August’s blood count, of the pheromone saturation… then you saw yours;

 “But… but that can’t be right…”

 “You know that equipment better than anyone else… when has it ever been wrong?”

 The elevator reached the Lobby and everyone filed out, August and Will stopping and nodding to the bar across the street;

 “We’ll be catching a drink or two… you’re welcome to join us once you’ve taken in the test data…”

 You nodded, speechless, staring at the data in black and white. It couldn’t be wrong; it was never wrong. It was clear as day.

 You hadn’t been infected by the pollen.

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Karma's a bitch - (Emily Sonnett x reader)

This one is slightly different. Reader is a YouTuber with a popular channel called On The Wildside. The chapter switches behind let's say "real life" and then to "recorded clips". So it might be a bit weird and difficult but hopefully it makes sense. Hope you enjoy!!!

"What! Is! Up! My Wilders! Welcome back to the Wildside" I say my intro as I hold up my camera to record myself. I smirk as I spin around as I continue, "And for today's video you are going to see me get my revenge on my girlfriend!"

Along with being a personal trainer for high paying clients, I also run a popular lifestyle and fitness Channel on YouTube which had amassed over a million followers. I usually posted fitness videos and just daily lifestyle vlogs along with soccer challenges with the occasional prank video. It was through my channel I had actually met my girlfriend.

I had gotten in touch with the Portland Thorns to do a video with them for my channel as part of a series I had started, aiming to play all of the NWSL teams in a series of challenges. And she just happened to be one of the players involved in the video.

She was also the one who hit me in the back of the head with a miss kicked soccer ball.

And that's how I met Emily Sonnett.

After that day we kept in touch and with me going to watch her games with the thorns and even meeting up again to do a few more videos with the national team until she eventually asked me out, with much persuasion from her teammates.

And now we have been together for a long time just managing with the long distance. Until she got traded to Washington. And while she was sad to not be at the thorns, on the upside we got to move in together.

Which had both it's positives and negatives.

"So if you have seen the most recent videos or even my Instagram posts. You will know that Em has kinda gone mad with the pranks lately. She got me at Christmas with wrapping my entire office with wrapping paper".

*Emily fumbles with the camera before it eventually focuses on her face*

She gives the camera a toothy smile, "Hey guys!" She starts to walk around causing the camera to blur slightly but can just make our the main image. "So obviously Y/n isn't here today. She's out with a client at the moment and won't be back until later. So I decided to help her get into the Christmas spirit with a little prank".

Flips the camera to show Y/n's office. "So with the help of a few friends" .

*pans the camera to show Kelley and a few other teammates*

"We're going to wrap everything in her room with wrapping paper!"

*Time lapse fast forwarded to show them wrapping her entire room*

"So Y/n is after texting me saying she'll be home soon and she is bringing me dinner which almost makes me feel bad". Emily pauses and looks down the camera, "Almost". She grins at the camera, "So I'm going to set up one of her cameras in her office to film her reaction and yeah hopefully she's like it". She cackles before it transitions to the next clip.

*Shows a clip of Y/n walking into her office only to freeze in the doorway when she sees the room*

Y/n throws her head back with a groan, "Emily!" You can hear the sound of Emily laughing in the background before she appears in the doorway with a wide grin across her face.

"Merry Christmas!" The blonde giggles as Y/n picks up a book that was wrapped. Y/n quirked an eyebrow at her, "You got me everything I already own?"  The camera shakes slightly due to her nodding and laughing, "You get the gift of opening them all over again?"  Y/n sighs before she spots something spherical over the in the corner.

"You wrapped my exercise ball? How?"

"With great difficulty"

Y/n licks her lips too tired to even argue. She tears off the wrapping paper off the chair before sitting down. She groans with her head in her hands before looking up at the blonde holding the camera.

"I hate you so much"

"I love you too".

She slumps in her chair as she looks around the room. "I'm too tired to do anything about this" . She glares back at the blonde, "Why would you even do this?" "Cause I love you?" In response to that Y/n scrunches up the wrapping paper into a ball and throws it at her.

"I'm still pissed at her for that by the way. She used all our wrapping paper and it took me forever to find my stuff she moved" Y/n sighs into the camera. "She also put a load of plastic cups filled with water around our bedroom while I was sleeping. But that ended up backfiring on her".

*A fast forwarded time lapse of Emily covering the floor of their bedroom with cups of water as well as any flat surfaces so Y/n couldn't climb on anything. She holds up 3 fingers and counts down to the camera before blowing an air horn causing Y/n to shot up in the bed*

Y/n peaks her head out from under the blanket only to see Emily giggling with the camera. She looks around confused before spoting all the cups. She groans loudly, "For fuck sake Em". She narrows her eyes at the blonde, "You have way too much free time if this is what your doing".

Y/n grabs a few of the cups and purposely empties them over Emily's stuff. "Hey!" The blonde shouts but Y/n just gives her a look, "What? You come in here and stop me? Be my guest". Emily groans dramatically, "I didn't think this through".

"Did you even think at all?"

"Hurtful"

Y/n clears a few of the cups without making too much of a mess. She sighs as she rubs her eyes, "It's too early for this shit Emily". She points at the defender holding the camera, "I hope you know your cleaning this shit up". Emily chuckles behind the camera.

Y/n looks up on the doorframe where her pull up bar is stuck. She looks between herself and the bar before smirking. "Y/n don't-" Emily starts but it falls on deaf ears. As Y/n bends her knees and make the long jump and grabs onto the bar. Her momentum swings her forward to where Emily is standing.

*In an attempt to soften the hit, Y/n wraps her legs around her waist making sure she doesn't fall. But in doing so she dropped the camera with a grunt causing the screen to blackout*

"And one of the worst ones was when she went away for a match and hid a bunch of alarm clocks around our bedroom which were all set to different times in the morning. Leaving me to wake up every little while to find the bloody things".

*Short clips of Y/n sleeping in the dark bedroom only for an alarm clock to blare causing Y/n to jolt in her sleep. This repeats multiple times showing different clips*

"And ever since then she's has also throw flour bombs at me, woke me up by pouring water all over me and she turned the hallway outside our bedroom into a slip and slide.

*Shows brief clip of  Y/n slipping and falling on her ass*

"So I've decided to give her a taste of her own medicine!" Y/n exclaims to the camera. "So she's coming back late from a game tonight so I'm going to set up a few cameras and pretend to be mad at her and tell her I'm sleeping in the living room".

Y/n smirks at the camera, "One thing you need to know about Emily Sonnett is she loves her cuddles. Especially after a game. She's like a fricken Koala when she sleeps. She just clings onto you". She moves to set the camera down so it has a clear view of the bedroom, "And this is going to set up for my main prank for tomorrow".

"So I'm going to go set up everything. And wait until she gets home". Y/n gives a thumbs up to the camera before it times skips.

*Time has passed to show it's pretty late now. You can hear the jingling of keys before the door opens and closes. Y/n freezes before smiling at the camera and jumps up and starts gathering stuff*

Emily steps in the doorway and drops her bags. But scrunches her face when see her girlfriend isn't asleep and is in fact awake. "Y/n/n? What are you doing?" With an annoyed look on her face, Y/n looked over her shoulder before going back to gathering a blanket and a pillow, "I'm going to sleep in the living room".

Emily looks at her weird, "What? Why?" She moves to grab her hand but Y/n just pulls her arm away, "What's wrong?" Y/n just shrugs her off, "I'm going to sleep on the couch".

Emily crosses her arms upset as Y/n gathers up the last of her things, "Did something happen? Did I do something?" But Y/n just ignores her before shuffling out of the room. Emily curses quietly unaware that there's a camera in the room and that this is all a prank.

After a long sigh Emily pulls out her phone and dials quickly before holding it up to her ear. After a brief minute she starts starting

"Hey Kel did I forget an anniversary?"

*Cuts to the camera set up in their living room which is facing their couch. Y/n has a make shift bed set up as she's scrolling through her phone before she untangles herself from the blankets leaving to go to the bathroom*

After Y/n leaves a minute later you can shuffling off camera before Emily wrapped in blankets comes into view. She pauses at the couch before she jumps and flops on the couch making sure she's wrapped up in her blanket. Completely unknown that this is getting caught on camera.

A few minutes later Y/n comes back with her phone in hand. It swaps to her phones point of view as it shows a close up of Emily's face peaking out from the bundle of blanket. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked desperately trying to fight the small smile coming to her face. But Emily just smiles cutely up at her, "We're sleeping in the living room". Y/n groans quietly, "Noooo". But Emily just keeps smiling, "Together". Y/n shakes her head, "No. I am".

But Emily just ignores her and pulls the blanket back and nods towards her, "C'mon!" Y/n just sighs, "Kay fine. You sleep here and I'll sleep in the bed". Emily almost falls out of the bed trying to stop her, "Nooooo".

They have a mini staring competition before it cuts to the next frame where the two are seen cuddling on the couch with Emily lying on top of Y/n's chest.

"Okay! So last night's prank didn't go exactly how I planned" Y/n starts as she's back holding the camera. "BUT! I have something else planned!" She exclaims.

"So last night was really just meant for her to think I'm mad at her for some reason or another. Which sets up today's prank perfectly" she explains. "So I'm sure many of you have seen this one already but I'm going to put my own twist on it".

"So Emily and Kelley have gone out to train together today and then they're going to come back here to hang out" Y/n starts before smiling down at the camera, "but I'm going to pretend to just come out of the shower". She grins, "Well.... you'll see what happens".

*Camera cuts a clip of the kitchen where Emily and Kelley are. Emily is on her phone by the island while Kelley is looking through their fridge (obviously). Y/n walks in with a towel wrapped tightly around her*

Y/n walks around for a bit before Emily looks up and smiles before going back to her phone. It takes a second before Emily does a double take, eyes widen when she realizes that Y/n is supposedly only walking around in a towel.

"Y/n!" Emily gawked causing Kelley to look over and snort at the sight. Y/n just looks at her girlfriend unbothered, "What?" Emily just looks her up and down motioning to her lack of attire, "Uh!" "What?" Y/n asks frustratedly. "What are you doing?" Emily asked while Kelley just watched on amused.

"Nothing!" Y/n throws her hands up. "Get dressed" Emily says. "Why?" Y/n asks nonchalantly. "Your in a towel!" Emily says angrily. "So what?" Y/n just retorts. "Cause we have company!" Emily argues motioning to Kelley standing at the fridge who just holds her hands up in surrender.

Y/n just shrugs, "So what? It's only Kelley. She doesn't care". "I care! Only I get to see you like this!" Emily shouts angrily. Y/n runs a hand through her hair, "I don't see the problem I'm covered! I'm covered". "I don't care go get changed" Emily says sternly which is a bit weird to see from her usual happy, upbeat persona.

"She's not bothered by it" Y/n defends herself motioning her arm in Kelley's direction. "I'm bothered by it!" Sonnet claps back getting even angrier, "just go put something on".

Hiding her smirk Y/n progresses with the prank, "You know what? You know what? No. Now this". Y/n then turns her back to her girlfriend as she faces Kelley who's eyes widen substantially as Y/n untucks the towel still holding the ending with her hands.

Catching onto the joke, Kelley bursts our laughing which only fuels Emily's rage further as she stands there stunned that her girlfriend would do such a thing. "This is happening" Y/n says throwing a look back at Emily over her shoulder. "Y/n! That's not-" Emily stutters out trying to find the words.

"She's seen me like this before and so have you" Y/n says as Kelley is still gasping for breath as she laughs. "What are you-" Emily starts only to stop when Y/n drops the towel to reveal one of Y/n's dresses which she has pulled down the sleeves to hide underneath the towel.

Emily's jaw drops as Kelley falls into another fit of giggles as she leans against the island. "Gotcha!" Y/n grins. Emily's mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out as she just stuttered unintelligently, "Uh I um?" Y/n moves to pick up the camera and hold it in front of Emily, "Say Hi to the internet Babe".

If at all possible, Emily's cheeks flushed even darker, "You recorded all this?!" Y/n hummed contently, "And last night". Emily leans back against the island and slides down to the floor, "Last night! That was a prank?" Y/n giggles, "Yup!" Emily slumps back, "Thank god! I thought you were pissed at me! I thought I forgot an anniversary or something!"

There is some shuffling and a bit of blurry imagines before it shows Y/n sitting on the ground beside Emily as she grins, "Nah. Just payback for all the pranks you've pulled on me recently". Emily buried her face in her girlfriend's shoulder letting out a small, "I'm sorry" although it came out muffled.

Y/n leans her cheek on Emily's head, "It's okay. But just remember next time you prank me, remember how I got you back". "Emily pouted at her girlfriend, "Fine. No more pranks". Y/n smiled as she pressed a kiss to the top of her blonde crown. But of course Kelley had to interrupt.

"If there is ever a prank war, I'm calling Y/n for my team".

Emily growled at her teammate as she koala hugged her girlfriend's side, "No!" Y/n giggled as she shrugged at Kelley, "Sorry Kels I'm taken". "Damn right you are" Emily mumbles as she presses herself even further into Y/n's embrace.

Y/n smiled as she holds up the camera, "Well that's it for my revenge pranks back on my girlfriend. If you want to see the full videos of Emily's pranks on me, I'll leave them in the description. Comment below for any videos you would like to see". "No more prank videos" Emily whined at the camera causing the other two to laugh before Y/n finished her outro. "Well that's it for now. Until next time. Peace out Wilders!"

[brekkerism]

BASIC INSTINCT (Part 1 - A Spencer Reid Series)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: (Y/N) has recently joined the bau through non conventional and rather privileged means. Couple that with a dark and troubled past, all she really wants is a fresh start. What she didn’t predict getting in her way of that, was one Special Agent Dr Spencer Reid. She thinks it’s hopeless and he’ll hate her forever. That is, until she sees Dr Reid on a rather...unusual place.

A/n: I kinda can’t believe this is my first Spencer Reid/Criminal minds fic. I’ve been obsessed for so long but I never got the courage to post anything. Well, we’ll see how this one goes. I really do hope all of you enjoy this, since I’m planning to make it multi chapters and I’m too in love to abandon it! Forgive me for not giving y’all the smut right away but good things come to those who are patient! And also huge thanks to @imagining-in-the-margins for being such a wonderful human and helping me beta this first one. Shout out to all the lovely people in the discord for encouraging me enough to write this. And also for my sweet liv, bc if she didn’t like this I would def not have posted.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Word count: 2320

Rating: R-no actual hard smut. For now.

Content warning: 12+ years age gap, description of bdsm scenes and play, swear words, brief fingering

*********

Since the first day I stepped in the bau, I knew Dr.Spencer Reid would not like me one bit.

Call it a gut feeling, a hunch, or maybe my justified pessimism.

 I knew the moment my dad told me, fresh out of the academy and not even slightly experienced at 24 years old, that I ‘mysteriously’ got a generous offer for a job with one of the best teams the FBI had to offer, that I wasn’t going to be liked by a lot of people. Because it wasn’t a mystery how I got the position. It was actually really plain and simple, and could be boiled down to one word:

Nepotism

I didn’t ask for it; I didn’t want it (no matter how much I actually wanted the position, but by my earning it on my own merits), but I completely understood something like this was likely to happen. I knew it the moment I moved back home and decided that the only thing worthwhile I really wanted to do was join the FBI. My dad was a good guy who was just trying to help me, his intentions were just a little misguided. It happens.

What doesn’t ‘just’ happen is that my dad is the deputy director of the FBI. His helping me was ‘making calls’ and ‘pulling strings’, which instantly gives my peers every reason to doubt every achievement I have.

But I was completely ready for it.  

What I wasn’t ready for is for everyone on the team to be normal and so welcoming to me, like I was any other agent. It was everything I wanted.

Well, everyone did that except him. I couldn’t figure it out why, but from the first minute he turned those eyes towards me, looking me up and down but never quite reaching my eyes, I could feel the scrutiny under the stare. Almost like he was saying “Really? This is it?”.

But with a blink it was gone, and he turned away from me and put his attention to the book in his hand so fast I almost thought I imagined the whole thing.

But I knew, I knew I saw it. And I knew that even if I didn’t want it, my body and brain would spend days trying to make him acknowledge me again, to look me up and down again, to try and prove to him what I’ve been trying to prove to everyone:

I deserved to be there. I could earn it by myself. I just need the chance to do it.

And so, my journey to try to not only be useful but a valuable agent, someone he would have to notice began.

 And it was shit.

Everyone was so willing not only to teach me, but to listen to my input.

Luke always had my back, both of us being the newbies in the team. JJ and Tara were always open to listening to theories, doubts and rambling, besides being totally badass inspirations. Penelope always had a eager and friendly attitude that could comfort me immediately, and she welcomed me with open arms. Emily and Rossi were patient, while also pushing me to be so much better, and being the best mentors they could be.

None of them even seemed to have even a passing thought of giving me special treatment or harsher judgment. It was almost perfect.

If it wasn’t for Special Fucking Agent Doctor Reid. He wouldn’t even be an asshole towards me, oh no, It was much, much worse. He ignored me.

He was almost happy to pretend I didn’t even exist. Of course there were situations that he couldn’t avoid socializing, as minimal as it was, but it was like he was talking to a wall. He looked at me like he was surprised that I was even there. He wouldn’t acknowledge me unless he was made to. He wouldn’t even correct me when I was wrong. At this point I was sure that I could be screaming bloody murder at him and he wouldn’t take his eyes off whatever he was doing.

It was the most frustrating and irritating thing that has ever happened to me. It made my blood boil over. It made me cry with sorrow.

And I couldn’t even figure out why. I didn’t know what it was that made me crazy because Spencer Reid wouldn’t look my way.

So I did what every angry and frustrated normal young adult does.

I went to a sex dungeon to drink my mixed feelings away and watch BDSM scenes. Duh.

Even though I wasn’t going there to play, and I thought I would never be able to play again, it was still a safe place for me. A place where I could see people that once knew the real me and provided a place free of any judgement. People who didn’t know who I was outside of those walls, who thought of me as just another person in that safe and different little world.

It also helped that watching, as much as it wasn’t my preference before, was the only thing that could properly get me off these days. And after everything, I thought I still deserved the ability to enjoy some parts of it.

And so, after saying my goodbyes to Pen, JJ amd Emily, and finding flimsy excuses not to join them at the bar for Friday drinks, I hopped the elevator, wondering how long would it take me to get properly dressed and drive across town, and if I was going to be able to call more of my old friends.

But all my happy thoughts of getting to immerse myself on a world I still loved were immediately clouded when a hand stopped the elevator and went in with me. His hand.

Great, just the perfect ending to an shitty day. A awkward elevator ride with Spencer Reid. And as always, he didn’t bother to acknowledge me, even though it was just the two of us riding down.

I was trying so hard to be in a good mood; to ignore the shitty end to a shittier case and go somewhere where I could try to be happy. But I just had to be met with his silence, his awkwardness, his existence in general. I didn’t want to feel like that today. So before I could stop myself, I did something stupid

 “So, what are your plans for the weekend, Doctor?”

Stupid. Stupid, stupid. Like he would voluntarily participate in small talk with me, something he already didn’t like, with someone he didn’t even bother to not like.

 “I think I’m going to go to a party with a friend today.”

Now that took me by surprise. No short replies? No one syllable answers? He actually told me something out of his own free will? He engaged in small talk?!

 “O-oh? I didn’t know you were one for partying... like, at all. Which friend are you going with? Do I know him?”

Talk to me. Keep engaging in small talk, please.

 “You don’t really know me well enough to judge if I am one for partying or not, now, do you? And you definitely wouldn’t know her. I don’t only hang out with people on our team, contrary to popular belief.”

Well that was extremely uncalled for. And rude. I thought that it was the first time he ever referred to me as part of the team, but that was an small detail to analyze later.

 “No need to be defensive or rude, I was just asking.”

 “Well, don’t.”

He was back to having that stupid blank expression on his face, back to not dignifying me with a proper answer, and that just wouldn’t do, would it?

I had a response. I had an excellent, spectacular comeback to use, but before I could actually defend myself in any way, the elevator dinged open. He couldn’t get out fast enough.

It was infuriating. So I did the only reasonable thing:

I followed him to his car to give him a piece of my mind.

Because of those immensely long legs, he almost got there quick enough to drive away and avoid me, but I would not let my stubby short legs get in the way.

I got my hand in before he could close his door, much like he did with the elevator. He still refused to look up at me but, the cheer disbelief and confusion on his face was enough of a response. Can’t ignore me now, asshole.

“You know, the only reason I don’t know anything about you, is because you pretend like I don’t exist. So don’t be needlessly rude to me. It’s better to keep not saying anything at all.”

And there it was. It was just tip of the iceberg, but at least I acknowledged it. I could actually feel a smirk forming on my face.

“Remove your hand please.”

And he finally looked up at me. All the disbelief and annoyance on his face were gone, replaced by that utterly bored and blank stare.

I actually wanted to scream. How was this the same guy that couldn’t stop talking and rambling enthusiastically about any and everything to anyone, the same person who had a perfect smile and warmth on his eyes for everyone else. How.

It was too frustrating. So I stepped back, removing my hand from his car door and walking towards my own car. It was better to just let it end already so I can wallow in my humiliation over this failed attempt at confrontation.

It almost put me in a bad enough mood that I didn’t want to go to the ‘club,’ but I had already promised Amara, who was not only one of my best friends but also happened to be dating that particular BDSM dungeon’s Mistress. There was no getting out even if I wanted to.

 And I didn’t really want to.

 ****

 A hour and dress change later, I was ready to go. This was absolutely nothing like the old outfits I used to wear for this events, but then again, I wasn’t the same girl. Not entirely.

So I opted for a silky black dress with a cowl neck and the best heels I had. It was sexy enough for a night of normal clubbing, but rather tame for a night at a dungeon. It was exactly what I wanted. It was less likely in that type of dungeon for anybody to approach or proposition me if I didn’t look experienced and in my element.

Even if I secretly was.

So I got ready, took my time to properly breathe, and left everything that wasn’t this night or positive thoughts behind the locked door of the apartment. I could come back to them later.

Right now, I was going to be happy and have fun.

 *****

I was not having fun anymore. It was unfortunate, and I felt like somehow that this had to be the bad mood I was in from a particular encounter earlier. I just couldn’t find anything that excited me the way I wanted it to. I had made the rounds with Amara, and she had showed me all of the new rooms and new toys before every space got occupied with busy couples and groups.

It was beyond fun exploring before the spaces were being actually used, and imagining what each person would get out of those rooms. It was a pleasant and happy feeling.

But soon enough the dungeon got filled with more and more people, and each room was occupied and used. Most were open for all that wanted to watch, but each scene I passed failed to get my attention. It was especially more daunting and lonely when Amara left to put on a show with her girlfriend in the main room.

And as pretty and wonderful as they looked, I just didn’t feel like watching a couple as in love as Amara and Celeste performing tonight. It was just... a little too much for me. After everything, most loving was.

No, what I was looking for was not that. I was looking for the thing I used to crave. The thing that used to keep me going at all times of the day.

I was looking for fucking. Not couples making love, not couples having sex, not pet play, not elaborate scenes or people using toys so strange and complicated I couldn’t make out what was what.

I was looking for someone completely fucking dominating their partner.

It shouldn’t be impossible to find. Not on a Friday night, and not in a club this good.

And I did. I finally found it.

The dom had his back to the audience and the door with the little window I was watching through. He was turned toward his sub standing on the side while she spread her legs on the bed, her hands tied up to the headboard, showing her pussy to the audience along the wall. It was the perfect scene for me. In fact, too perfect.

She even looked a little like me, in fact. Same build, similar hair. It got me even more excited to watch this through. I took a deep breath and finally opened the door. Stepping in, I leaned against the door, having a direct view to the bed.

And god did I want to watch.

The dom still had his back to us,but I wasn’t watching him. Rather, I watched the girl’s cunt and how he was fingering it, not saying anything for her or us yet.

He has really nice hands.

Really, really nice. In fact I don’t think I’ve seen such nice hands since –

Not the time!

The girls face looked rather blissful, and I imagined three of those pretty and long fingers should be doing just the trick for her.

But then she did something that displeased him.

She moaned. Loudly.

The sound was immediately followed by a sharp slap in her face.

Fuck, that made me wet.

But before I could even entertain the idea of getting my hands inside my panties, the dom spoke.

He spoke in a voice I almost never heard directed towards me, but could pick out in any crowd.

He spoke in the voice of the man that made me so mad I almost didn’t come to the club in the first place.

“Are my fingers inside you too much? Cause I’ll fucking stop if you can’t obey and stay quiet.”

 And I froze. I froze and panicked and had to stop myself from screaming by bringing a hand up to my  mouth.

 Because that was Spencer Reid, in a BDSM dungeon, dominating a girl right in front of me.

Taglist: @imagining-in-the-margins @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @gretaamyk @prettyricky187 @sunlight-moonrise @fanficlibrary82 @blazinvixen @samanddeanstolethetardis221b @httpnxtt @reidetic @hyper-fxation @blushingspencer @reidlusts @wishingwellwriting @redbullchick

I feel like I missed a lot of peeps but please know I’m still thankful ma loves

[justkending]

Noisy Neighbors, Drabble Series. (2/2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is that loud neighbor you want to scream your head off at for throwing all kinds of parties what feels like year round. But in doing so, you somehow got a free coffee date out of it...

Pairing: (college neighbor) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: I had a sweet follower @blessedwedgie​ ask me if I can write a continuation of this drabble I did a while back and at first I was like, “What do I do? Where would I want that to go? How would I continue that in a way that would be cute?” Then I was at work being bored as hell, but had a pen and paper and well... Here we are! I hope I did it justice friend:) This was really fun to write and I want all the cuteness that is College Bucky Barnes in my life honestly!

Here is part one if you haven’t read it yet. 

Noisy Neighbors Part 2:

The only reason you really agreed to coffee with the handsome neighbor was because your morning class had been canceled and you didn’t have another until later that afternoon. Of course there was the free coffee too… Ok, maybe his stupid handsome face had something to do with you leaning to say yes. 

He was persistent.

So at 9:55 the next morning, you threw on a pair of real pants and a jean jacket over your sweater and ran a hand through your hair as you grabbed your keys by the front door. 

“I’ll be back later Wands!” you shouted back down the hallway. No response. She was probably sleeping after pulling an all nighter for a test today. “I’ll be bringing you back some coffee too, I guess,” you laughed to yourself as you went to open the door. 

But you were startled to open it and immediately see those familiar piercing blue eyes.

“Jesus-” you jutted as you threw your hand over your chest in surprise. 

“Sorry,” he laughed as he took in your reaction. “I literally just stepped in front of your door.”

“You sure you haven’t been waiting out here since last night?” you smirked, stepping out and locking it. 

“Now, I did say I was persistent, but I think I deserve a coffee and a little more than small talk before I decide if you’re stalking material,” he shrugged, watching as you turned back to him. 

“I like to think I’m stalking material,” you played along, getting a laugh out of him. “Though, doesn’t mean I’d actually liked to be stalked.”

“Ladies and gentleman, she’s got the jokes,” Bucky announced as you walked side by side to leave the apartment building. 

“Just to be safe, you’re not some charming Teddy Bundy 2.0, are you? Cause if that’s the case, I don’t think this is going to work out,” you joked, sending him a smile before tucking your hands in your coat about to bare the cold outside. 

“So you think I’m charming?” Bucky jeered. 

“Don’t get cocky there, Cavanosa. I’m still trying to decide if I’ll ever answer my door again if you knock,” you pointed at him as he opened the door for you. 

“I’m wounded, Y/N,” he faked hurt, but inside he was just gitty to know your name now and be able to say it. 

“Buy me that coffee, and you’ll have a better chance, soldier.”

_____________

You went to the coffee shop on campus and the little coffee date went surprisingly well. You talked about school, learning Bucky was a forensics major and hoped to go to Quantico at some point. He said he always had a gift and interest in crime scenes and murder mysteries growing up. He liked being able to solve it before the characters on shows did or the narrator gave it away. 

To which you countered with, “So you would be a certified stalker with a badge? Interesting…”

That got a big belly laugh out of him which you couldn’t seem to help but join him after hearing such a sweet sound.

You talked about how you’re going into Psychology, and actually were interested in a similar field of forensics. You had always loved the psychoanalyzing of people and situations. So naturally, you were looking into being a Forensic Psychologist. 

He asked why he hadn’t had any classes with you yet considering it was both your senior years. Then you explained to him how you had just transferred for this last semester because of better professors and a scholarship opportunity you wanted to take advantage of before graduation. 

It turned out that you both were taking one of the same classes, but just had it at different times. Same professor though. 

After the obligated ‘college talk’, you both got into; where you grew up, where you plan to go, what are your hobbies, what do you do in your free time if you weren’t studying. Which you had already known Bucky’s was throwing parties that irked you to no end. 

“Yeah, I’ll cut back on those. I’ve been getting behind in school and it’s starting to affect my grades,” he pursed his lips in embarrassment. “Dr. Cassel’s class especially. Damn man has a 3 page essay due what feels like every night!”

Dr. Cassel being the professor that you shared.

“Eh, it’s not fun, but if you get ahead a little and do the readings, it’s not that bad,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the hot cup of tea that you told him you preferred instead of coffee on days like this with the weather. 

“Easy to say for a nerd who likes to read,” he smirked taking a drink from his own cup as he looked over the brim of it at you.

“Excuse me sir, I thought you were trying to get on my good side here,” you gasped. “Calling me a nerd isn’t going to do that for you.”

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You actually kinda remind me of Steve. He’s a bookworm like you and the goody two shoes who’s always on top of things.”

“He didn’t seem like that at the party the other night,” you tilted your head. 

“Oh, yeah. I may or may not have finally had convinced him to join in on the fun. He’s always holed up in his room studying or reading something, which I’m sure you understand,” he winked getting an eye roll from you. “But every once and a while I can get him to cross over to the dark side for a night.”

“School’s important for me. It’s taken a lot to get here and I don’t want to mess it up,” you explained. Your face going a little more serious as if there was more behind that fact than you were letting on. Bucky toned his joking down some at change. “Plus, it’s my senior year. One more semester of this and I’m home free. That is until I start job searching and that’s a whole other step,” you shook your head looking down at your drink. 

“Have you ever gone to a party during college?” Bucky asked. “You know, do the whole college experience thing?”

You looked up seeing he was genuinely curious. 

“Uh, yeah. I went to one or two with my old boyfriend at the other school I went to. They weren’t more than just a bunch of frat boys and girls getting plastered and making out in random spots around the house, while the rest were listening to loud music and standing elbow to elbow in a crowded rent house off campus.”

“Very specific scenario there,” he chuckled, lightening the mood. “I take it you and your boyfriend aren’t together anymore?” His question did not meet your eye line as he stirred the dash of creamer he had to his drink. 

“No, that would mean he would be my current boyfriend, not old,” you laughed. “That and I probably wouldn’t have said yes to coffee if I was dating someone.”

“Right, because this is a date,” he noted as he looked back at you with that cocky grin. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smirked back. 

“You did say it in the text. You said, ‘sounds like a date,’” he pointed out. 

“But do all coffee dates mean actual dates or just meeting up to talk over coffee?” you countered. 

“Would I get in trouble if I said I’m hoping it’s the first one?” he asked with hopeful eyes. 

You paused for a second. God, he was cute. He was charming. But… You came here for your degree and you broke up with your last boyfriend because your schedule is too hectic and you’re trying to focus strictly on school. You didn’t have time for relationships. 

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not really a part of the dating rehealm at the moment,” you said awkwardly. Bucky’s smile dropping some. “My schedule is just too chaotic to add another person to it, and I really need to focus on school.”

You could see disappointment on his face, but he was quick to wipe it off to not cause any more tense energy in the conversation. 

“I get it. You have your priorities in check. Can’t blame you for that,” he shrugged with a soft smile. “But now that I know you’re my neighbor, and I really like your whole persona. You won’t be mad if we became friends, would you?”

You giggled at that and his smile widened. “I think I can get on board with that.” His grin grew once again. “Besides, I may need to copy your notes for class, so I guess it’d be useful to get along with you,” you exaggerated as if it was so much to do on your end. 

“If anyone’s copying notes here, it’ll be me, doll. I’m the one failing,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he took another sip of his drink, 

You two continued talking for a while with another cup of coffee was purchased. Strangely enough the annoying neighbor that you had grown to despise, had surprised you in being a pretty nice guy. It was like you two had been friends since high school with how comfortable and snarky you guys were with the other. And it didn’t hurt to look at him either…

Eventually you headed off to your afternoon class and Bucky headed home being lucky enough not to have any classes all day. He offered to walk you to the class, but with it being as cold as it was, you didn’t want to inconvenience him by walking you there and then all the way back to the apartments. It wasn’t a short walk. 

He obliged after much persuasion on your end and you went your separate ways. 

As the weeks went on, you started to see more of your neighbors. Steve sat with you in Child Psychology now knowing you a little better, and Bucky somehow always was in the hallway at the same time as you or was bumping into you at the forensics building occasionally. 

The neighbors had become friends and Wanda was just happy to not hear you complaining anymore about the two that shared your wall. That and the parties had practically ceased now. Considering what Bucky said about being behind in classes, you suspected he was trying to cut back on his social time. 

As the semester went on, Bucky made it a priority to see you at least once a day if he could. Emphasis on the at least…

If that meant knocking on your door to walk to class, he jumped at the opportunity. 

“Hey, I’m headed to the library and I know you have that 12 o’clock class in the building over. Wanna just go together?” He grinned. 

“Can’t say no to a chauffeur,” you would smile back as you grabbed a beanie and walked out with him. 

If it meant somehow almost always making more food than he and Steve could eat, just to come over and offer you some, he would take the option. 

“Hey, I made some pasta tonight and had way too much for Steve and I. I thought I would ask if you and Wanda want some before I throw it out,” he smiled widely in your doorway. “What college student in their right mind would say no to a hot meal?” he winked.

“Not a sane one,” you chuckled as you took the platter. “You sure you don’t want them for leftovers?”

“Eh, we never get around to eating them most the time. You guys will enjoy it more than us. Plus, it’s better fresh,” he waved off. 

“Ok, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to bake you some of my famous brownies as a thank you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N. I will hold you to it.”

If it meant last minute study sessions for a class he forgot, he texted you a long message begging you to help him out. 

“I know you took this class last semester, so you have to know something. And something is more than I know,” he said with a wrinkled nose once he was in your room. 

“What part of the unit are you in?” you sighed from your desk as you put your now finished work to the side for him. 

“Personality disorders common in serial murders.”

“Oh, that’s the fun stuff. Why wouldn't you want to learn about that?” you gasped, going to sit right next to him on your bed. 

But honestly, he wasn’t worried about the chapter. He had actually read it before coming over to surprise you in his knowledge when he acted like he was lost. He just liked when you sat close to him and went on a rant when you came up on something that triggered a murder documentary you watched. That’s how he hooked you into letting him stay longer. 

“Wait, so the movie was about a serial killer who ended up having multiple personality disorder? He didn’t know he was doing the killings?” he asked. 

“How have you not seen it? It’s a classic!” you questioned in surprise. 

“I don’t know… Tell me more about it,” he grinned as you went on. 

Oh, and he had seen it. It was a good movie. 

If it meant he somehow got ‘locked out of his apartment and couldn’t get in until Steve was home’, he made the excuse to sit outside your door until you were home. 

“I left my key inside by accident today. Any chance you’ll let a loner like me hang out with you for a little until blondie gets home?” he batted his eyelashes as he leaned against your door. 

“This is the second time this week, Bucky. And the fourth time since last week. Do I need to sew the damn things to you?” you laughed opening your apartment to him. 

“I’ll pass on that. I would prefer to just hang out with you instead,” he shrugged, closing the door behind him. 

“You sure you left your keys by accident?” you asked with a pointed eyebrow as you took off your jacket. 

“Cross my heart,” he said, doing the motion. 

“Yeah, sure. Wanna put a pot of coffee on while I change?” you asked, already moving to your room. He had been over enough by now from study sessions and ‘accidental lockouts’ to know how to work your machine. 

“Already on it,” he hummed walking to the kitchen. “Want me to make you a cup?”

“Dash of cream and-”

“Two sugars! I know,” he shouted back, smiling as he moved in your kitchen to grab the mugs. 

And if it meant never throwing another party again, and instead asking you to come over to his place and watch a movie instead, he moved his schedule around for you. 

“Hey, what do you say to a movie date?” he asked as you walked back from class and nudged you with his elbow. 

“A movie night sounds nice,” you responded, emphasizing on night instead of date. 

“I didn’t say night,” he would point out. 

“I know. I figured I would correct you on your slip up. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. Words are hard,” you teased, nudging him back. 

Though he knew you would never fall for his little tricks, he always implemented date into a lot of his questions about you two hanging out. It had become a little game between you both. 

“Study date tonight before Cassel’s test?” He asked as you grabbed your mail together. 

“Study session? Yeah, sure,” you corrected. 

“Hey, want to come over for a dinner date? Steve and I are making homemade pizza. You and Wanda are welcome!” he offered. 

“I’d love to have a pizza party with you guys. I’ll text Wanda and see what her plans are,” you giggled, hip bumping him walking up the stairs. 

“Hey, what do you say to an impromptu date to the baseball game tonight? We’re playing against our school's top rival,” He smiled as you both grabbed your coffee from the barista. 

“Oh yeah! I heard that was tonight. Eh, how do you feel about a movie night instead?” you shrugged. 

“Movie date?” he seconded. 

“Yeah, a movie night,” you emphasized. 

Conversations like that went on all semester. You were finding that whatever time you weren’t spending in class or at work, it was next to Bucky. The two of you becoming a couple of best friends attached to the hip. 

It was nice. You enjoyed it. And though, you knew deep down that he probably meant all those things being a date and hoped for it, you were glad he didn’t press on when you changed the meaning. He understood where you stood and he wasn’t going to pressure you for anything different if you didn’t want to. 

And now, it was time for graduation. You, Steve, Wanda, Wanda’s boyfriend Vis, and Bucky all stood in your gowns taking pictures with your temporary degree in hand outside the college stadium. You had all finally finished. With a lot of all nighters, stress relief movie nights, and much needed pizza parties, you had graduated. 

You didn’t plan on getting two new really good friends out of it as your mind had always been school, school, school. No time for a social life and distractions. 

But boy were you glad you had hit a breaking point the night you banged on their door. If you hadn’t, you would have probably never created the very close relationship with the blue eyed, brown hair, crazy flirtatious, but charming neighbor. 

“Hey, since we graduated and we finished the damn thing, how do you feel about a date?” Bucky asked turning to you after Wanda snapped a picture of you both.

“I didn’t hear movie, study, or pizza in front of that word. What kinda date are we talking about?” you asked as he kept his arm wrapped around your waist from the pose you two were in. 

“I was thinking of a real date,” he smiled. 

His hand on your hip giving a gently, but firm squeeze as his eye practically suffocated you with the ocean tides in them. 

“I think I can get behind that,” you grinned up at him, squeezing his shoulder. “A real date it is, Casanova.”

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@morganclaire4 @chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 2

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 6k (lol no chill as always)

[a/n]

Sorry for the delayed update. I added almost 1k words just to solidify the characters to give depth even more to the story. Feel free to reread. (It's totally not because I started a different series altogether.)

When I say this is slow burn, I meant sloooooooowww burn. 

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist. :)

AO3 

Part 1 || Part 3 || masterlist

What were you even thinking? Actually,  why weren’t you? Had you used at least two brain cells of yours, you wouldn’t have momentarily lost your mind and kissed Tsukishima. You could’ve justified your actions if you were drunk, but you ingested not even an ounce of alcohol that night.

History will remember yesterday as the day a a sober you and a very displeased Tsukishima who found yourselves smooching publicly in the middle of a club. You’re just glad that no other member of the team goes to the same university you both go to. Else, you'd run the risk of getting seen.

Were so touch-deprived that you couldn’t resist even Tsukishima? And what about him? Why did he get along with it? You don’t think he actually hates you. Hate is such a strong word. He just exceedingly dislikes you. So why would he make out with you? Maybe he thought of it as a way of finally standing up to you?

Ugh.

You’re thankful that you didn’t have training yesterday. You were a mess the whole day trying to make sense of what happened. Not that you’re any better today; you’re still baffled as fuck. But you’re glad you had that day off so you wouldn’t have to face him immediately. 

For the first time ever, you’re dreading going to the gym. Even if you’re tired or you lack sleep, you’ve never felt distressed as the manager of the Sendai Frogs. All this because of Tsukishima. But can you really put the blame on him when it was you who initiated it?

“Good morning, y/n,” Eiji, the captain of the team greets you.

“Morning, Eiji,” you say back. Even though he’s older than you, you dropped the salutations already, same with everybody else. 

“You okay?” he asks worriedly. 

“Oh! Yeah, absolutely! When am I ever not okay?” You toughen it up and erase the troublesome kiss in your head. You are their ever shining manager, first and foremost. Anything outside of that has no place in this gym. 

“Never. It’s almost scary actually,” he answers with jest.

“Right? ‘Cause I’m a freaking goddess.”

He gives you a noble bow. “Indeed, you are, my lady.”

You giggle softly. Your players really are the best on and off the court (except for Tsukishima). “Go do your drills instead of buttering me up, ‘captain.’” He gives you a mock salute then jogs off towards the net. 

“Y/n!”

You saunter off to your coach after you were called. “Yes, Coach?”

“Can you help tape the blockers?” You nod willingly, quickly discarding unnecessary thoughts of Tsukishima. 

“Tsukishima’s free. Go start with him.”

You almost flinch upon hearing his name.

‘Great,’ you groan internally as you get the wrap from your kit and drag your feet toward the source of your uneasiness. But what did you expect? Of course, you’d have to deal with him sooner or later.

“Morning, Tsukishima,” you greet him with forced normalcy, acting like nothing’s wrong. As you take his left hand and you’re instantly reminded of what happened the other night -- how this hand gripped your waist while his mouth moved against yours… how his skin felt against the palm of your hand as he towered over you, body against body in a dance so dangerous and so hypnotizing that you lost yourself in the moment.

You tried your best to calm down yesterday, but seeing him right now makes you want to smack yourself from your momentary insanity that led you to kiss him.

Instead, you give him the nicest, brightest smile to channel your frustrations as you start taping his fingers. You just hope and pray that he doesn’t bring it up.

“Morning,  manager .” It was an indirect jab at you. Even when he says it with a dead tone, you know he’s taunting you by addressing you as manager - a tortuous reminder that what happened last Saturday night wasn’t forgotten.

Instead of yielding to the provocation, you respond with your own. You might have messed up, but you’re not letting him get the upper hand. “How was your weekend, Tsukki?” 

“Horrible,” he quickly answers without even thinking.

“Ditto. What happened to yours?” you ask with fake curiosity, already knowing why. Even if you didn’t kiss him then, he was already acting up like an angsty teen forced by his mom to attend a children’s party within the neighborhood.

“Went to a disgusting party.”

You nod pretentiously. “Mine’s horrible too. I got g-”

“I didn’t ask,” he interrupts.

“Well, you’re still going to hear it,” you respond just as distastefully as he cut you off. “I got groped by some perv, but I kinda punched some good manners unto him.” You release his left hand and take his right one to tape it as well. 

“And?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s it. After that, I just went home from how  horrible  the experience was.”

You look up to him, meeting his sardonic gaze paired with a raised eyebrow from what you just said. You know that he understood that you were referring to something else other than the perv incident as horrible.

“How about you? What happened to that disgusting party of yours?” you press on.

“I bumped into someone I didn’t really want to see.”

“And?”

“Do you really wanna know how horrible it was for me?” A smirk creeps up on the corner of his mouth as he asks. There were many times before that you’ve wanted a taste of Tsukishima’s vile sarcasm, just to know what he’d say to you. Today is not one of those times. You don’t want him using that reckless kiss against you. 

“Actually, no. I don’t really care.” You let go of his hand you just finished working with and look around to look for anyone you could use as a distraction from Tsukishima’s attempt to retell the kiss from his perspective.

“Kogane!” you brightly call the setter as you bounce cheerfully towards him. 

Even if you don’t show it, Tsukishima knows he’s gotten under your previously impenetrable thick skin. He detests what happened last Saturday. The more he remembers it, the more he abhors it. The only reason he’s not totally hating himself for getting swept along with your shit is because he knows you hated it too, probably more than he does since it was you who kissed him first.

His smug grin only spreads when you march to Kogane with that cutesy act you only show to players from opposing teams to unsettle them before matches. You take both Kogane’s hands and beam at him. “Do you want me to tape your fingers?”

“Y-you don’t have to, y/n. I can do it myself!” Kogane blurts out, panicking at your sudden closeness and physical touch.

“But I love taking care of you guys,” you pout at Kogane, which only makes the setter blush a shade almost close to red.

Tsukishima follows you to help his babbling, flustered teammate.

“You’re going to kill him, y/n,” he says as he passes by you and Kogane who now looks like he stopped functioning.

You blink at Kogane, realizing what you’re doing to the poor guy.

You must have been really bothered by Tsukishima and unknowingly projected it to someone else.

Tsukishima sneers as he sees you try to ease Kogane from his severe fluster but only make it worse by rubbing his shoulders. 

A dash of pride and satisfaction swells on Tsukishima’s chest as he watches you get agitated with the situation you, yourself caused. Getting back at you feels even better than he imagined it would be. 

--

Even though you and Tsukishima are in the same class, you don’t really notice his presence. Sometimes you’d even forget you’re classmates. Now, though, you are more aware of the fact that he’s actually there than you ever have.

“Alright, class. For your main project this semester, I’m going to have you partnered up. You need to come up with a comprehensive report on mating behavior of reptiles. I’ll randomly generate your assigned reptile.”

You groan. Another collaborative work in the same subject. You don’t like working with others because you don’t want to adapt to anyone’s schedule. You like to get things done ahead of time. You hate procrastinating because you don’t want your uni requirements getting mixed up with potential tasks from your managerial job, especially whenever tournament seasons come. 

The last collaborative work you worked on is a group project where you did most of the work yourself. You wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t have fucking freeloaders as groupmates.  The little shits made you do 90% of the project because you wanted it done early.

You just pray that this time, you get to be paired with someone responsible. You tap your pen on your desk while you wait for your name to be called.

“L/n and Tsukishima.”

You drop your pen at your professor’s announcement. It bounces twice on your desk before rolling to the floor, but you don’t move to pick it up. Your gaze immediately flies to where Tsukishima is seated and find him glaring at you already. You almost want to laugh at how ridiculous this entire situation is.

Seriously? Were you a serial killer in your previous life or something? Did some higher power decide to punish you for your grave sins like this? 

Whatever. You’re not having any of this shit. 

You wait until the class is over and approach your professor. “Sir. I’d like to do this project alone.” Or at least with someone else. 

He continues to type something on his laptop, not bothering to look up at you, as he asks, “Why is that?”

“I just feel more comfortable doing things on my own, Sir. Please.” You try to give him your nice student smile but his eyes don't leave his screen.

“Then what? Have you increase my workload?”

Shit. You forgot that this particular professor of yours is known to not budge to anyone. You scramble your brain for another excuse.

“Sir. Can I do this project alone?” you suddenly hear Tsukihima’s voice behind you.

Finally, your professor closes his laptop and eyes you two unenthusiastically. “My answer is no to miss Y/n, so my answer to you, Mr. Tsukishima, is also no. I don’t know what the deal is between you two, but you’re doing this together.”

You can’t help but scowl despite being right in front of your professor. If it wasn’t for that darn kiss, you would’ve loved working with Tsukishima. Even though you don’t have the same classes, his schedule won’t be that hard to match up with because you two have the same training days. Secondly, he’s smart. You won’t have to carry the whole weight of the project. 

“You know what, I’ll reconsider.” A glimmer of hope lights up in your chest as you hear your professor’s words. “I’ll allow you two to work individually — but with an automatic ten point deduction for this project.”

“No,” you and Tsukishima respond at the same time. 

“Great! You’re already getting along swimmingly.” Your professor picks up his stuff and stands up. “Enjoy,” he waves a dismissive goodbye and leaves.

You slowly turn around to face Tsukishima and find that you share the same lour that he has. You cross your arms and lean on your professor’s desk. “Guess we’re together, Tsukishima.” 

--

You allowed yourself one week to compose yourself before you agreed to start the project with Tsukishima. You still saw him at training days, and even then, you tried to have the least amount of interaction with him so the ‘incident’ wouldn’t be brought up again. Meeting him for a project where it’s just you two is different and you needed time.

As much as you don’t want to be with him, you told yourself that it’ll be over soon. You just pushed the kiss in the back of your head and convinced yourself that it was just a stupid kiss. It didn’t mean anything. He probably just went along with it out of spite, so it’s best you think of it as a spur of the moment madness. That way, you won’t be bothered if he sordidly brings it up again. At least now, you can go back to your usual, cheeky self around him.

You’re about to text Tsukishima that you’ve arrived at the station you agreed to meet up at but you already see him there standing while he’s scrolling his phone with his usual white headphones on.

Unfortunately for you and him, the reptile assigned to you two are crocodiles. It’s the worst possible assignment you could get among the roster of reptiles assigned. You need to travel all the way to Wakabayashi for a legitimate crocodile farm to observe, compared to other reptiles which are easily accessible with nearby zoos in Miyagi. You just pray that you’ll only need this one trip to get all the data you need for your report.

You walk towards him and instantly regard how he looks. Despite being in the same university, you don’t see him around much. Even in your sole class together, you’re seated way too apart from each other to even look at each other’s direction. Not that being seated beside each other would’ve made a difference. You’re not friends. There’s no need to talk to him since everything that’s volleyball-related is relayed through line. To you, he’s just one of your players. As far as you’re concerned, the only Tsukishima you’re aware of is the one sweating his white shirt and training shorts during practice. 

To have this much involvement with him outside the gym is throwing you out of your usual loop. You continue studying him at a distance. Today he’s wearing white plaid pants, black turtleneck (probably long sleeves) with a lighter shade of black coat on top, and a brown wool scarf. He also has a gray bonnet that makes his blonde locks frame his face nicely. 

What the heck? Did he always dress like this even in class? How come you never noticed? 

He finally notices you. He puts down his phone and removes his headphones. “How long have you been there?”

“Wow, Tsukishima. You look kinda hot,” you blurt out without thinking.

His eyes expand at your statement that came out of nowhere. “Huh?!”

“Oh, sorry. That must’ve been random. But you look really good though. I kinda feel like I’m meeting a date,” you say with objective candor as you continue to stare at him. 

That catches him completely off guard. The other day you’re on the edge around him. You weren’t even paying much attention to him during training, but now you’re back to being a headache whose mouth knows no bounds as you faze him with your unfiltered thoughts. Now, it’s him who is uncomfortable again with your thorough eyes scanning him approvingly. 

“As if I’d ever date you,” he snaps back at your remark to which you scoff at.

“I didn’t say you would. Maybe you’re forgetting, I’d never go out with a member of the team.”

“Right. But kissing one is totally fine, huh?” he retaliates in an instant with a condescending look. He waits for your reaction, eager to see you distraught and bothered by it. To his dissatisfaction, you don’t behave in such a way. Instead, you sigh defeatedly.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I got a little crazy that night,” you say casually to a degree that you sounded like it was just a petty accident. “You kissed me back, so I’m sure you were too. Right?” 

The last word is conniving, and he can tell why you phrased it that way. You’re leaving him no choice but to disregard what happened or else it’s going to seem like it meant something to him. The hell it does. It simply resurfaces back on his mind sometimes because of how unpleasant the memory is. 

‘Devious woman,’ he snarls in his head.

It should be okay. Your reason for what you did can also be his excuse for how responded to it. What he didn’t like is that he hasn’t even managed to make the most out of that incident, while you immediately found a way to undo the grave you dug for him to bury you into.

Plus, the only advantage he sees out of partnering with you for this project is the possibility of being able to pester you the way you pester him during practice. Obviously, that’s already thrown off the window. Now, there’s nothing in it for him for the duration of the project. He is left with nothing but the fact that he has to endure your company. To think that he’s already so miserable when this afternoon has barely even started.

“Yeah,” he answers with contained resentment. “Can we go on the bus now?” He asks to deviate away from the topic already. He was hoping he could still use the incident to unnerve you, but it’s for naught now. 

He enters the bus first and assumes you’ll follow him, which you do as you take your seat beside him. You get your shoulder bag and take out a notebook.

“Can you take a look at this outline I made for our report?” you ask while you hand him your notebook opened at a certain page.

“I can’t read while the bus is moving,” he says then waits for a lame comeback from you. But you don’t comment about it. Why must you keep on being such a wildcard?

“Ah, okay. I’ll just tell it to you then,” you smile at him. “This trip is going to take long. It’d be a waste of time to not make use of it, right?”

He groans internally. Why must you be right all the fucking time?

He also made an outline last night, but he didn’t tell you because he thought it’d be better if he just did the data-gathering himself and let you take the pictures the report should have. He forgot that you’re not as irresponsible and carefree as you present yourself to be.

He listens to you explain your outline, looking for flaws in it for the sake of his grade and also for his self-satisfaction. And he does find a few.

“You should have separate discussion points for mating characteristics for male and females. I’m sure they have distinct traits. Also, I think we should include more than just one species, preferably three if the farm has it.” He continues, “Maybe we can note certain unique behaviors per species. It would be inconclusive, but it would still be nice to include it as a commentary.”

He hopes to extract even just a tiny hint of embarrassment from you for he’s thought of it better than you did. But you just stare at him for a good few seconds before you break into a dazzled smile.

“Oh my God. Yeah, you’re absolutely right!”

You open your notebook and scribble the changes in your drafted outline. “Is there anything else?” You consult him genuinely. You accept his criticisms with an open mind, which vexes him even more. 

“Nothing,” he grumbles.

“Alright. Let’s just revise it again once we see what’s on the farm.”

He doesn’t bother replying anymore since you’re once again right.

He puts on his headphones again to drown out whatever chatter you plan to have with him since you’re done discussing the project for now. Instead of bugging him, you take out a bunch of readings and focus on them intently, completely ignoring him. 

With nothing to entertain him aside from the music on his ears, his peripheral keeps going back to you and how hard you’re concentrating with the papers in your one hand and a pen in the other. 

He removes one muff of his headphone from his ear and asks you, “Don’t you get motion sickness?”

You really must be into what you’re studying because you flinch when he speaks, causing you to drop your pen. 

He feels responsible for it so he leans down to pick it up, but you also do the same. As you both reach down to grab your pen, your temple collides with his. 

“Ow,” your fingers go to massage the spot, failing to notice as he does that your faces are too close for comfort. He watches you wince for a quick while before looking at him, finally realizing that he’s within a proximity familiar to you both. 

It’s reminiscent of that night except this time, the natural light affirms that it wasn’t just the ambiance of the club that made you attractive enough to pull him in and share that heinous kiss. With your well-lit features, he can see that you’re thinking about the same thing he is.

Your eyes fall on his lips and for some illogical reason, he does the same.

Like last time, you’re the first to act on it. The major difference is, instead of leaning in, you retreat. You sit up straight with your fingers still on the side of your head and smile graciously at him. “It’s fine, Tsukishima. I’ll get it,” you say, which he finds half-witted because he’s still bent down and he can already grasp the pen.

He sits back up and hands you your pen. You use the hand on your temple to get it.

“Oh, thanks.” You stare at the pen for a second, then tuck it in your pocket. “Anyways, yeah. I don’t have problems reading in a moving vehicle.”

You dive back to his question and disregard what just happened. It works for him. He’d rather not think about it as well. 

“Have you not seen me scrambling paperwork on our bus rides to and from tournaments?”

“No.” He prefers not to pay attention to you. Hell, he pretends you don’t exist when he can. So naturally, he doesn’t know what it is you do when you’re not being your pestering self. It pains him to admit it, but you do get shit done -- efficiently, too. He should be glad because at least, you won’t be like his previous groupmates.

Still, just you being … you, ticks him off.

You laugh out of nowhere. “For someone who doesn’t speak much, you’re so fucking transparent.”

He frowns, not being able to grasp what you meant.

“Okay, look. I like pissing you off. I really do. And you, you don’t like me a lot. But for this project. Can we pretend that I’m not your annoying manager and you’re not the nasty Tsukishima I know?” 

“How the fuck can I do that when we see each other almost everyday as such?”

You roll your eyes and smirk. “Right. What was I even thinking? Go ahead and be emo with your music over there while I study here, yeah?” You pat him on the shoulders twice with that patronizing grin you always give him before pulling your pen back from your pocket and focusing once more on your readings, completely paying no attention to him for the rest of the trip.

—

As soon as you reach the crocodile farm, Tsukishima suggests that you two roam the area separately to cover more ground. In reality, he just wanted to get rid of you even for just a few minutes. He needed a break from you.

He does so by taking his time strolling around the place, observing how the area is situated. It looks like a park with its vast lush green environment and man-made waters to habituate the crocodiles. There are four main areas: the museum, the hatchling house, the zoo, and the breeding pens. He first goes to the museum, looking at the skeletal structure of some crocodiles. It isn’t really significant to the project but he can’t help admire it.

When he realizes that he’s taking longer than he initially thought, he starts looking for you. He sends you a text, but you don’t reply. You had gone to the zoo’s direction so he assumes you’re somewhere around that area. 

When he does find you, you’re not alone.

There you are near a crocodile pen, getting friendly with a guy he’s sure you just met.

It’s so familiar. The only difference is that you’re not wearing the Frogs’ jacket and you’re not in the Sendai gymnasium. He walks towards your direction, not caring if he’s going to cut off your little chat. You’re there for the project, not to snag some random bozo.

As he closes in behind you, he hears your conversation.

“Actually, birds are more closely related to dinosaurs than crocodiles. You couldn’t tell, right?” you explain with zeal. 

Tsukishima stops in his tracks at the foreign feeling in his chest. Wait a minute. Is he actually impressed? Moreover, what the heck is he impressed for? You should know that. You are both in a higher herpetology class. Even though it hasn’t been discussed during lectures, it’s natural that you know that. However, the guy you’re talking with isn't as enthusiastic. 

“Can’t blame you though. Crocs and dinos share the same sexy vibe with those chill eyes and scaly skin. Also, look at those smokin webbed feet. Fucking work of art, dude. You feel me?” you press on fanatically.

The stranger looks at you with a forced smile, obviously weirded out by your ‘passionate’ description of the reptile. “Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Bye,” the guy bows and storms away from you. 

You turn your attention back to the lowered pen in front of you with a satisfied smile and shudder when you see Tsukishima already there beside you. 

“Gah! You scared me. Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask with your hand still on your chest.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you creeping out that stranger.”

You tither at his answer. “Glad you didn’t. It was fun seeing him all freaked out.” 

He finds it weird. He thought you just had an aversion towards athletes. That’s why you keep driving away anyone who’d approach you during matches. Apparently, that’s not the case.

“He looked like he’d follow you back to Miyagi if you didn’t go all freaky nerdy on him.” 

You jeer at his comment. “He could follow me to the ends of the Earth and I still wouldn’t give him my number. I’d rather date Mr. Crocodylus siamensis over here than boring dum dums blinded by how hot I am.” 

“Then why do you entertain them?” he follows up.

“Caaaauuusse it’s fun to see them squirm,” you declare cheerfully as you veer your gaze at him. “Why the sudden interest with the way I handle men, Tsukishima?”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your lips tugging up to form a playful smirk. “Don’t tell me you suddenly find me interesting?”

You really do know how to push the right buttons to provoke him. He grits his teeth from your audacity.

“I’m joking for fuck’s sake! My god. I already know that even if it’s just the two of us on this planet, and we’d have to procreate to restart the world population, you’d rather choose to doom humanity than have anything to do with me.”

Among all the correct things that came out of your mouth, that was the only thing he could verbally agree with. “Good you know,” he retorts. 

You don’t seem to take offense though. You still keep your unwavering smile as you get your phone out and take a picture of the Borneo crocodile. 

“Should we go see the breeding pens now?” you ask nonchalantly, dismissing the previous conversation like it was nothing. 

--

You both decide to hire a designated tour guide to assist you while you observe the crocodiles, particularly the ones for breeding. 

“Hi, Ms. l/n. I’m Sara and I will be your guide for today,” she introduced herself with a dedicated smile.

“I’m so thrilled that you and your boyfriend decided to learn more about crocodiles for your date,” she adds. 

You and Tsukishima glance at each other before turning back to her. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” “He’s not my boyfriend.”

You both say simultaneously, except yours sounded like a friendly correction while his sounded like a dead announcement. 

“We’re just classmates for a project,” you correct her.

She bows apologetically with embarrassment and worry. “I’m so sorry for assuming that.”

“No worries, Sara,” you reassure her before Tsukishima says something unnecessary. “Can you lead us on the breeding pens? We’d like to observe the whole thing.” 

“Of course. Right this way.”

Aside from the mishap earlier, you find Sara competent at her job as she fills you in with details not included in the sign boards in the pens. She gives you information about the mating process that you didn’t find when you researched about the subject. You assume Tsukishima’s thinking the same because he doesn’t say anything out of the blue.

“By any chance, will we see a pair mating today?” he asks after a while.

“I’m not really sure, Mr. Tsukishima. It’s really up to the animals.”

You tug on Tsukishima’s sleeve when you catch sight of one crocodile latching himself on top of another.

“What?” he asks irritatedly, but follows your line of sight. 

“Oh, lucky. There you go.” Sara announces with a pleasant smile.

You get your phone and your notes. You multitask listening to Sara, taking photos, and scribbling notes on your paper pad. 

On the other hand, Tsukishima multitasks observing the crocodiles in action and observing you. 

You’re asking important questions to the guide while juggling other tasks. Yes, he doesn’t like you and loathes being partnered with you. However, that doesn't mean he won’t cooperate with you. He won’t mind if you ask him for help, but you seem to have even forgotten that he’s there. 

He grabs your phone from your hand, garnering a confused look from you.

“I’ll take the photos. You take down notes.”

You flash him an honest, grateful smile. “Thanks, Tsukishima.”

Then, you proceed with the things you’re doing more at ease. 

He can’t tell who he’s more pissed at, you or himself. Something about that display of productivity and wit unnerves him. It’s as if it’s telling him that his chagrin over you is unreasonable because you’re actually reliable when it counts. What’s worse is you’re completely oblivious to it. In fact, you’re almost ignoring him.

Goddamn it. What’s he doing? He’s completely distracted now from the project and is solely focused on you. He quickly shakes it off and calms himself down. His attention should be on the reptiles, not you.

He turns his attention back to the crocodiles, but the mating act only lasted a few minutes. After that, you both barrage Sara with an array of questions that she looked too overwhelmed by the end of your tour. 

You’ve covered almost everything for the day and it’s already around 6 in the evening when you get on a bus on the way back to Miyagi.

“That was fun!” you comment ardently with an abnormal shine on your face when you sit down on the bus on the way back. He wears his headphones on before you start a conversation he’s not willing to have. From his peripheral, he sees you turning to him and as he predicted, your mouth begins moving while you animatedly narrate words he could not hear. 

He’s already acting as if he can’t hear nor see you, but you still don’t stop. Knowing you, you will not stop until you make sure he notices you. He wearily removes his headphones only to see you not saying anything and only mouthing words with hand gestures. 

“Seriously?” He scowls at you. He’s already exhausted at having to deal with you even for just half a day, but you still have the energy to mess with him. 

You cover your mouth with your hand as you snicker but it erupts into a hoot of laughter shortly. You gasp ridiculously after you ride out your stupid amusement from poking at his patience. “Tsukki, I swear to God. You make the best faces,” you say while wiping away your joyous tears.

“Were you even going to say something worth listening to?” he questions sourly.

You study him then shake your head. “I think you’re tired, so let’s just discuss what we gathered next time. You can go ignore me now,” you tell him with an understanding smile despite the slight banter.

You tilt your body in his direction and hoist yourself up a bit to put his headphones back yourself like it’s no big deal.

You settle back into your seat while he stills on his seat, stunned with what you just did while you get your readings again and shrink to your own bubble. You don’t seem to make anything of it, so he doesn’t as well. It was very you to mindlessly get on anyone’s —  particularly his — personal space anyways.

He increases the volume of his headphones and tries to relax. Yet, his attention keeps swerving back at you every now and then. You’re really concentrating hard with your brows burrowed while you stare at your hand-outs. After a while, he notices you bobbing your head from the corners of his eyes.

He can tell you’re as tired as he is and trying hard to fight the sleep that’s taking over you. The bunch of papers you previously held are now clutched on your lap.

On the last bob of your head, you snap out of it. You blink repeatedly and return your eyes to your readings again. To no avail, you’re shutting down with your eyes fluttering when you try again. You look like you decided to give it a rest and put your papers back in your bag. You cross your arms and lean back to your seat. 

He feels relieved that you finally yield to your physical exhaustion. He doesn’t need an additional bullet point to his list of why he can’t fully hate you. Also, you won’t run your mouth at him if you’re asleep.

He feels the soft thump of your head on his shoulder. You probably did too as you suddenly bolt up and tell him ‘sorry' which he only understands based on how you mouthed the word. You lean back again and try to settle back to sleep. But when you start dozing off, you sway to the other side of your seat which is the aisle of the bus.

He grabs your shoulder to prevent you from tumbling down to the aisle. Your disoriented self looks around, alarmed at his sudden touch.

“Just fucking lean on me,” he spits out, irked that he has to say it out loud. It’s not like he pushed you away. You could’ve just stayed as you were and he would’ve turned a blind eye at it out of recognition of the effort you put in today. He’d just consider it one of those times that you do something annoying and he just ignores you as a response.

You regard him with dazed eyes. You open your mouth as if you’re about to say something but decide against it as you shut your eyes again and you let your head rest on his shoulder. But even then, your head still falls forward from time to time. He puts a hand on your forehead to settle you back on his shoulder and slides a bit downward on his seat to accommodate you. 

Jesus Christ, you can study in a moving vehicle but can’t even do a simple thing like sleep properly on it. Why does he even have to adjust for you?

He heaves furiously in contrast to your steady breathing, letting him know that you’re easing deeper to your sleep. 

He distracts himself by looking at the window, witnessing the unmoving dark sky and the changing scenery below. He lets out a sigh.

Maybe he should’ve just accepted the ten point deduction.

Part 1 || Part 3 || masterlist

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[footballxposts]

Sleeping With The Enemy - Jack Grealish Series❤️‍🔥 (Chapter Two) Curiosity

Warnings: just some more sexual tension for now hehe but y’all better be ready for the next few chapters cause god damn 🥵

Recommended listening: Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande (Slowed).

Quick A/N: if you can’t understand Scottish slang a will translate for you in the comments

Taglist: @storyofavengers @hotyeehawman

——————————————————————————

The rest of my first day working in Aston went much better than I had initially expected. We only had a few minor injuries so I spent most of my time just going through all the players files, mainly looking over their medical history and current rehabilitation plans. That being said, I found it so hard to concentrate as the only thing I could think about throughout the entirety of it was Jack’s words. They were etched on my mind like the winner of a tournaments name being engraved on a trophy. I was extremely thankful Alan had came back into the room when he did, because I really had no idea how to respond to Jack’s comment and to be quite honest, I wasn’t really sure I wanted to.

Now arriving back at Bodymoor Heath training grounds for what was going to be my second day, I tried my best to find a parking space. Spotting one, I positioned my car and took the keys out of the ignition. Just as I was grabbing my things so as that I could make my way into work, I noticed a familiar face walking across the car park and quickly ducked my head so that he wouldn’t see me. But he did. And instead of walking towards the building’s entrance, Jack Grealish was now headed towards my car.

He lightly tapped the window as I pretended to look for something. Giving me space to open the door he quickly stepped away. My heart was nearly beating out of my chest. What did he want? I’ll tell you what I wanted. I wanted to avoid him as much as possible so I wasn’t put in another awkward situation with him, but he really wasn’t making it at all easy. Stepping out and closing the door behind me, he began walking beside me.

“So how’s my girl Ella this fine morning?” he asked, his eyes watching me every step I took.

“Your girl?” I questioned back in a slightly nervy manner, trying to speed up.

“Come on, you know what I mean.” he teased, a smirk now spreading across his face.

“Uh no actually I don’t, because we’re not friends Jack.” I sighed, attempting to pull the door of the premises open but he had got there before me and was now holding it out wide for me.

“Oh really?” he raised his eyebrows in response. “What are we then?”. I hated to admit it, but his accent was honestly so damn attractive too, though I wanted to believe I only thought so because I had watched too much peaky blinders and he reminded me of Tommy Shelby. Standing in front of me and stopping me in my tracks to prevent me from moving any further, I gave him one of those ‘seriously?’ glares.

“Nothing.” I stated. “We’re just work colleagues. That’s it. Just two professionals getting on with their morning, or at least I’m trying to but someone is in the way.” His reaction was comical. Lightly scoffing with a small chuckle, he took a step closer to me, almost closing the distance between us. I was shaking like a leaf internally. He honestly made me so nervous, as if my anxiety didn’t already do a good enough job of that. I gulped as he parted his lips and got the final word in.

“Maybe.” he began. “But I’m hoping to change that sometime soon.” Giving me a smug wink, he moved out of the way and began walking down the corridor the opposite way. I stood there for a few seconds, which felt more like minutes, trying to process what he had just said. He was a very attractive man, and there was no denying it. But was he actually being serious? Only my second day here, and he’s already hitting on me like I’m a piece of fresh meat. Was this what he done with every new girl that started working here? And how many other females in the vicinity was he currently doing this with? Did he just think every girl would fall at his knees and give him what he wanted? And what made him assume I would? Or that I even wanted to? Feeling slightly nauseous at all thoughts and questions now racing through my mind, I shook my head and made my way to my section of the workplace.

A few hours had gone by of assessing more injuries and whatnot, and before I knew it, it was now lunchtime. Making my way to the canteen, a friendly face appeared beside me, this time being one I was more than happy to see. It was midfielder John McGinn, who I had had in the clinic earlier on that morning. He and I maintained a good conversation about various different things, mainly about Ireland and Scotland’s relationship. Now holding the door open for me, he perked up.

“Hello.” he smiled softly.

“Oh John, hi, everything alright?” I beamed back at him.

“Aye yeah no a wis just wondering if you wanted tae come have lunch with me since your friend isn’t in today and you probably don’t want to sit with Alan and stuff?” he asked with a strong Scottish accent and a hopeful look on his face. He was referring to Samantha, the girl I had met yesterday who worked as a nutritionalist. She had told me how happy she was to have a female the same age as her working at the grounds to and offered for me to come sit with her at lunch, to which I accepted but she had took a sick day today meaning I would probably have to sit and have lunch by myself.

“Oh okay, yeah.” I replied, “Thank you, that would be nice.”

The little grin that spread across his face as he opened the canteen door for me was the cutest. “Great, no problem.” he responded as I began to enter the large dining hall. We made our way over to the food court to get something to eat. Joking and laughing, I was caught in my tracks by a very serious looking Jack, who was now staring at us from where he was seated at one of the tables. Ignoring him, I diverted my attention back to the lunch lady who was placing my vegetarian lasagne back on my tray.

“Oh, sorry thank you.” I said, expressing my gratitude and moving on to get a drink at the end of the counter.

“Vegetarian huh?,” John raised his eyebrows at me.

“Umm yeah aha, I kinda have been for the past seven years or so.” I chuckled.

“Kinda? Whit ya mean by kinda?” He questioned.

“Well.” I began. “I eat chicken, but I don’t eat any other meat or poultry.” Giving me the biggest look of judgement he could muster up, he began to crack up. “No way! Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I know I know. It’s a bit of a weird one to be honest but it is what it is.” I muttered shyly.

“Naw naw, each to their own am no saying anything. But isn’t there a name for that itself?” he queried.

“Yeah pollotarian, but everytime I say that everyone tells me it’s not at real thing and I’m a nutcase and stuff. Besides, a pollotarian is supposed to eat all poultry and I don’t.” I answered, as we sat down at a free table.

“Aye well a canny say a dinnae agree with them.” he teased as the two of us broke out laughing. John was so sweet and wasn’t unattractive either, but even when it came to him I wanted to remain strictly professional. Jack’s eyes were still fixated on us with what I could only assume was jealousy and envy growing in them. Having enough, I watched as he forcefully stood up out of his chair and walked away out of sight.

“What’s his deal?” I asked John who now had a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. “Who? Grealish?” he replied as soon as he had swallowed it. Nodding anxiously, he rolled his eyes and giggled again. “Ah, Jacky-boy, whit can a say? Serious baller, great hair, great legs. But a flirt and a wee heartbreaker anaw.”

“Oh really, how so?..” I lamented.

“Ah, it’s no really for me to say sorry darlin, but am sure one of his previous conquests could fill you in if your paths cross. He’s no a bad guy, just done some silly things if you get me? How come you’re asking anyways?” he interrogated, nudging me with his elbow.

“Oh I was just wondering..” I trailed off.

“Naw, no way. Has he already tried tae make a move on you?”, an amused look now appearing on his face.

“Not exactly, but I think he’s planning to try to.”

“Aye right a see. Well, word to they wise, as much as a love Jack, if you’re looking for something serious, he’s no the way to go about getting it. A wid focus on your work if a were you.”

To indicate that I understood, I nodded slowly. But why did part of me also feel slightly disheartened and disappointed? I kept trying to remind myself that Jack Grealish was the ultimate no go; not only because I had only started working here and I wanted to keep everything strictly professional, but also because I don’t think I could every forgive myself, let alone my country or the world if they knew. He was supposed to be the enemy. Well, not so much the enemy, but the traitor and rival. However, there was just something about him that made me want to do so many things that I know shouldn’t.

After finishing lunch, I said goodbye to John and set about returning to the clinic. As I exited the canteen door, I felt an arm grab me and pull me into an empty office. Struggling to make out who it was initially, the smell of cologne mixed with sweat that was becoming overly-familiar helped me to quickly register.

[crystaljins]

Finding Christmas again

Characters: Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 21K

Synopsis:  After a lifetime’s worth of turbulent and miserable Christmases with your family, you finally make the executive decision to spend this year’s Christmas alone. 

However, when you take home a box of old Christmas decorations from your friend’s shop, it seems that this Christmas is set to be different from the others.  

ChristmasScarecrow!Tae x human!Reader

Notes: Here it is!!! My contibution to the @thebtswritersclub​ secret santa (and also their monthly holiday prompt, Holiday/festival)!!!  And my secret santa is.... *drum roll*....

Hi @pars-ley​​, Merry Christmas!!!!! I hope you enjoy your secret santa!! 

Anyway, I know the premise sounds weird but bear with me!!!! It’s kinda cute, I promise!!

Rating: PG13

Genre: Fluff, angst

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, fighting, alcoholism, depression, mean step-siblings (OC’s family). Mentions of house break-ins, some kissing and some ANGST, santa is real, really poorly explained world mechanics that are kind of glossed over because I’m lazy LOL

For you, the start of the Christmas season is always marked by Seokjin unboxing the stock for his December-long Christmas sales. Any stock from the previous year that didn’t get sold gets lined up along the shelves along with a few new trinkets here and there. He pulls out a series of dusty cardboard boxes, soft and collapsing from age and within are numerous fraying, gaudy Christmas decorations he likes to string around the shop to give off a bit of a “festive” atmosphere. Of course, an overstocked, tacky dollar store can only be so “festive” but Seokjin never seems deterred. 

This year, however, marks a change. You sit amidst towering, overflowing shelves whileJin beams at you over the counter of his tacky dollar store and slides the first of the decrepit and infamous cardboard boxes towards you. 

“If you’re being stubborn and insisting on spending Christmas alone this year, at least put up some decorations.” He insists. Hesitantly, you peer inside- the tinsel has lost some of its magnificent sparkly mane, but it’s still passable and there’s a few tangled lights that you know from experience may have a bulb or two blown but are still somewhat useable. 

“I guess I could,” you reluctantly agree. Your small apartment could definitely do with a little apartment sprucing. “You’re not going to decorate this year?” You question. Jin shakes his head and beams, gesturing to a series of brand new cardboard boxes, freshly shipped. They’re crisp and upright in a way that makes the old boxes look even more soggy and pathetic.

“I’ve done a little bit of online shopping this year and thought it would be nice to freshen up my decorations. And I know you could use some decorations so I knew my babies would be going to a good home.” He announces, positively giddy with delight. Christmas always leaves Jin on the edge of manic. Starting the month off with his birthday and then finishing it off with the entire world decked out in festivities is like giving him a month-long sugar rush. Nothing says festive season like the terrifying sparkle to his gaze.

“Well... thank you, I guess.” You say. You’re hesitant but grateful. You’re not the kind of person who hates Christmas or thinks the grinch was a victim, but it’s always been a season that didn’t ring as joyful for you as it seemed to for everyone else. After all, for you, Christmas had consisted of you hiding upstairs while your parents had screaming matches while they were still together, and then it had been a mix of being picked on by your step-siblings the years you were stuck with your father, and nursing your mother after she’d get drunk over eggnog and cry over her broken family when you spent it with your mother. Perhaps this is your chance to reclaim the season. “I can load these up in my car and then we can get started hanging up your new decorations?” You suggest, as Jin finishes balancing the till. 

Jin nods absently, counting under his breath, before leaning against the counter with a smile. 

“That would be absolutely fantastic. Your santa hat is in my office- don’t forget it!” He reminds you. You groan. 

“Do we have to do this every year? It’s demeaning.” You complain. Jin nods and then ignores your grimacing, returning to counting the day’s takings. 

With a heavy sigh, you take your time loading the boxes into your car, parked out the back of the shop, before ducking into his office. Sure enough, two embroidered Santa’s hats sit haphazardly on Jin’s desk. You tug one over your head and grab the other for him. 

You’re not sure when this tradition of helping Seokjin set up his shop for Christmas began. If you’re being honest, you’re not even sure when you started being friends with him, but this has been a yearly tradition since he started the shop, and the closest you’ve ever gotten to Christmas cheer. Your job is to string out the decorations in the least gaudy manner possible while Jin arranges his Christmas stock on his already overflowing shelves.

Back in the shop, Jin has just finished locking up when you come down the stairs at the back. He turns to you and beams, before gesturing to the boxes filled with new decorations. 

“Time to put that interior decorator eye to good use, (Y/N)!” He cries, clapping his hands enthusiastically together. You wince- it would take a lot more than some Christmas lights to fix the mess that is Seokjin’s shop. Even a professional interior decorator couldn’t fix this chaotic mess. His shop is ten years past a clearance sale.

Still, you walk over and begin to open up the boxes, sorting through the decorations until you come across an older box. You thought you’d loaded them all, but it looks like you’ve missed one. 

“What’s this box, Jin?” You ask, peeling back the lid to find a series of old, musty decorations. Jin pauses in his detangling of some dangling star lights to look over your shoulder. 

“Those are the decorations I put up for sale every year that never seem to go. Even the words “clearance” isn’t enough for people to want them.” He sighs, and he’s surprisingly melancholy as he looks upon the unwanted decorations. You’ve never had much to do with the things he chooses to sell- frankly you’re a little afraid with the things you may find should you venture into the labyrinth of his dollar store. Curious, you peel back the cardboard flap and peer inside at the myriad of unwanted decorations. 

Oddly, it makes your heart twinge a little, to see the stock that has been stuck gatherinf dust for eleven months. As dramatic as it sounds, you know a thing or two about being unwanted. 

Not that your parents ever implied you were unwanted! It’s just hard not to feel that way when you’re born to a couple who want nothing to do with each other. The constant back and forth between your two feuding parents had constantly made you feel more like a “pass-the-parcel” package than a human being.

And when your dad had remarried, he’d always insisted that you were welcome, but it’s not difficult to see how happy he is in his new family. How his stepchildren’s achievements made him smile or how he’d finally achieved the noisy, warm household he’d always dreamed of. The household he never had with you. And now even your mother is trying new things- she’d asked you to come with her to meet the family of her new boyfriend, but you couldn’t bring yourself to suffer through the awkwardness. 

That’s why you’d chosen to spend this Christmas alone- because you can’t seem to shake the feeling that you’re an afterthought when it comes to a holiday that involves spending time with your family. You exist, and you share their blood, but they have plans with people they actually chose to be in their lives. You’re welcome along, but not really wanted. 

Jin watches the expression on your face with mild interest. 

“Do you... want any of them?” He questions tentatively. “They’re a bit gaudy, but you could give them a home?”

You grimace at the ugly decorations- it’s not hard to see why no one wanted them. Tacky, corny baubles and cheap little mantle ornaments that a even a seventy year old grandmother would turn her nose up at.

But despite your general distaste, a tuft of red wool at the corner of the box catches your attention. You reach forward and tug it free.

A Christmas-themed scarecrow toy smiles back at you. Tufts of red, woollen hair peak out beneath his little santa’s hat, and two sewed on black buttons make up his eyes. His mouth is a simple stitched black line, a little upwards curve, and a little paint on upside down triangle makes his nose. He’s dress in a flannel shirt and overalls, but the overalls have a little christmas tree embroidered on the front and his flannel shirt has fluffy cuffs like the ends of a santa shirt. He’s sort of charming, if a little strange- why a christmas scarecrow? What an oddly specific decoration. 

“I can kind of see why no one would want these.” You snort, though you don’t put him back. Jin nods sympathetically. 

“This little guy has been with me for years. All the other decorations I bought with him eventually got sold but this guy is still unwanted.” He admits, taking the scarecrow from your hands to examine it fondly. “I even tried giving him away for free once but they didn’t want him.”

You bite your lip at that. The two button eyes stare up at you longingly, and for some reason you feel a sense of camaraderie with this stupid, gaudy christmas scarecrow. 

If you’re taking a bunch of decorations, why not this guy? He clashes with every instinct you have in terms of decoration, but the thought of him sitting on a shelf, unwanted for a month only to go back in this dusty old box at the end of the year is too depressing for you to handle. With a sigh, you take him back from Jin. 

“Might as well, since you dumped all your other old decorations on me.” You sigh.

And you miss the way Jin winks at the little scarecrow when you’re facing away from it. 

++

You actually forget about the decorations for the next few days. They sit in your car, unpacked. You’re busy with work as they rush to wrap up the end of year projects before their deadlines. And it’s not like putting up decorations has a deadline, right? You put them up some time before Christmas and hopefully remember to take them down before February hits. 

It’s when Autumn finally draws to a close and the first of December hits that you’re finally motivated to put them up. You’re in a deep clean kind of mood and when you duck out to your car to chuck out the various wrappers and old papers you’ve built up over autumn, you recall the boxes in your boot. 

The little Christmas Scarecrow is the first thing you pull out once the boxes are unloaded into your home. The little button eyes gaze up at you mournfully, as if scolding you for leaving him unattended in your car for so long. 

“Sorry little guy.” You sigh, straightening and setting him atop your mantle. He looks a little out of place with your decor but it feels right to place him there for some reason. This way he’s in full view of any guests that walk in. “Here. This can be your spot. Front and centre.” You tell him, and from this spot his button eyes look a little less mournful. With a smile, you begin puzzling out how to assemble Jin’s ratty old Christmas tree. 

You’re in the middle of a youtube tutorial on how to make your tree appear fuller when your phone lights up with your mother’s contact image. 

It takes you a few moments to steal yourself to answer her.

You aren’t on bad terms with your mother or anything. It’s just... for a few years after the divorce, when you probably needed her most, she just wasn’t your mother. And she’s done really well and gotten a lot of help and she’s in a really good place right now, but it’s still hard. It’s hard to talk to either of your parents, really. 

“Hey mum.” You finally say as you answer the phone. You can guess what she’s going to ask- every since she found out you wouldn’t be going home for Christmas, she’s been doing her best to convince you otherwise. 

“I was just at the store this morning,” she greets you. “And I saw all the ingredients for that christmas cake we used to make when you were small. Do you remember? And we always made it snowman-shaped and you’d cry when we’d eat it.”

You smile at the memory- it’s one of the very few fond ones you have on Christmas. When you were a very young child, before whatever your parents had between them went sour. Before life transitioned into hiding upstairs and trying to block out the sounds of shouting and being bounced back and forth between opposite sides of the country because your mother and father couldn’t even handle being in the same city together. 

“I do remember.” You say.

“We could make it!” Your mother urges. “Just think- wouldn’t it be so fun? John has a daughter your age, and she loves to bake! She’s so eager to meet you too- we could-“

“Maybe next year, mum.” You say. “I’m just absolutely slammed at work this year. Besides, I’ll be down for your birthday soon. I’d just rather spend Christmas at home, this year.”

Your mother is silent for a moment. You know she didn’t miss the implications of your statement. When you had first moved out for studying, returning to your parent’s place had been “going home”. Even you’re not sure when avoiding your family for the holidays had morphed into “staying home.”

“I... I’m sorry. I know I keep bringing it up, but I heard from your father that you weren’t going to spend it with him either and I... I don’t like the thought of you alone for Christmas.” She finally says. “I know I’ve failed you in a lot of ways, but I don’t want this to be one of them. John’s wonderful and his family would love to have you. We could make room for you.”

You go quiet for a moment. Your mum is trying her very best. You know that- you know that so well and yet you can’t. You just can’t do it. You don’t have it in you to brave through Christmas with either of your parents and play happy families and pretend that the years of misery didn’t happen. You don’t want a Christmas where people are “making room” for you. You want to have a place that is just inherently yours.

“Next year.” You promise. Next year you’ll have steeled yourself. Next year you’ll have it together. Next year you can try again. Next year you’ll be a little stronger and more resilient and then you can face the mess of your broken family.

Your mother sighs on the other end, in a sad, disappointed sort of way. 

“Next year.” She finally says, and there’s a promise in her words. Next year she’ll be better too. She’ll keep trying. 

You stay on the phone a little longer, and when you hang up you just spend a moment in your empty apartment. Boxes are sitting, strewn around you and currently the only decoration is your little Christmas Scarecrow. 

Oddly, he almost looks judgemental as he peers at you through the buttons. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh, getting to your feet and beginning the process of organising the Christmas decorations. “It’s complicated. You don’t know my mum and I know she loves me and I know she’s trying... but it’s... it’s just complicated, ok?”

You continue to ramble as you finish up your decorations. It’s quite therapeutic, talking to an inanimate object. It almost feels like he’s listening- there’s something warm in the little stitched mouth and button eyes. You and your scarecrow, both unwanted on Christmas day. You tell him about your parent’s divorce, about your past Christmases. About Jin and your friendship with him. About your decision to be alone for Christmas this year because neither of your parent’s offers seemed particularly appealing. 

By the time you’ve finish, your apartment actually looks decent. The Christmas tree sits in the corner, decorated with baubles covered in chipped paint and balding tinsel. There’s lights strung across the ceiling and across your mantle and maybe there’s one or two missing spots, and maybe it’s just a little tacky, but it’s warm. It’s home. You’ve carved out a little home for yourself in this apartment, and maybe it’s not perfect, but you like it. 

When you fall asleep on the couch, exhausted, you dream of ringing sleigh bells and cheerful Christmas tunes. 

++

You awaken suddenly. Your heart is in your throat. 

There’s someone in your apartment. You can hear them rummaging around in the kitchen. You don’t know how they got there, but terror fills you. 

The first thing you do is discreetly reach for your phone. You want to call the emergency number but you don’t want the intruder to know you’re awake in case they retaliate. Instead, you shoot a text to Jin. 

There’s someone in my house. You text. The response is almost immediate. 

I’m on my way. He responds. You resist the urge to groan. You’d told him so that he could call the police, not so that he could play hero. 

You roll off the couch and sneak closely to the wall. A metal bat rests there- a housewarming gift from Namjoon when he first learnt you’d be living alone. You never thought you’d have to use it. You never forget to lock your doors and surely no one has the guts to scale a building and come in through your balcony, right?

Still, you’re grateful for it now as you grip the handle tightly between both fists. 

Hesitantly and quietly, you inch towards the kitchen. The light is on and you can make out a figure bustling inside. 

With a cry, you rush forward, swing the back in a downwards arc. 

Only for your terrified intruder to whip around and catch the bat with the palms of his hands. Ignoring the fact that he just caught the full swing of a metal bat without flinching, you try and pull your bat back to tru for another swing. 

But he merely tightens his grip on the bat and this gives you time to take in his appearance. 

There’s a lot of striking things about the man’s appearance. Bright, brilliantly red hair, the colour of Christmas ribbons and raspberries, a straight, prominent nose. A sharp, well-defined jawline and two warm, dark eyes, almost familiar in their dark shade. 

It’s hard to know what to take in first. His startlingly handsome face, his brightly coloured hair, or his outlandish outfit. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look cute in tacky, Christmas themed overalls or a flannel shirt that’s an odd mix of a Santa’s hat and a farmer’s uniform. Complete with the Santa’s hat and the bright red hair, the man could almost be twins with your Christmas Scarecrow. 

“Who are you?” You demand. You attempt another futile tug on your bat, but the man’s grip is firm. 

“Don’t panic, (Y/N)!” He urges. His voice is deep and velvety but edged with a little terror. Your eyes widen. 

“How do you know my name?” You demand. If you weren’t afraid before, you are now. 

“Seokjin said it! In the store, a few days ago!” He cries, still pressing firmly against your metal bat. Despite you pressing your whole weight into it, it doesn’t budge a centimetre closer towards him. 

“So you’re a stalker?” You cry. 

“No!” He counters. “It’s me, (Y/N)! The scarecrow!”

That startles you enough to relax your grip on the metal bat. He senses the lapse in your grip and tugs the metal bat free. He holds it away from you and approaches you slowly, cautiously. 

“I was just making you some hot chocolate.” He says slowly. “You seemed sad after your phone call with your mum and I wanted to comfort you.”

He’s crazy- a crazy guy has broken into your house and has been listening to your conversations for who knows how long, and has been stalking you before that. 

“How long have you been stalking me for, you psycho?” You demand. His eyes widen in horror. 

“I’m not a stalker!” He insists. “I’m your scarecrow- turn around and I can prove it!” 

“What? So that you can stab me while my back is turned?” You demand. You make a grab for the bat. “Get out of my house!”

He manages to throw the bat backwards and grab both your shoulders as you lunge for him. With impressive strength he presses on your shoulders and spins you around. In the same motion, he shoves you forward a few steps and you stumble to re-gain your balance. 

Enraged and terrified, you whip around, ready to retaliate.

Only, he’s gone. Where a weird red-haired man previously stood, your kitchen is now empty. 

The counters are scattered with objects- your milk is out, and an open tin of cocoa, a few of your spice jars are laid neatly next to the pile of pots. 

And, sitting neatly where the man had been not a moment before, is your little Christmas Scarecrow. He smiles up at you, button eyes gleaming like he knows something you don’t. 

You can’t help it- you crumble before it. The post-adrenaline crash hits hard and you stare dumbly at the embroidered smile for a moment. 

“It’s a dream.” You finally conclude to yourself. “This is some messed-up nightmare and tomorrrow this haunted scarecrow can go right back to Jin’s store.” 

You grab it and hold it at a distance, your arms outstretched like it smells bad. 

“This is fine.” You assert. “It’s a dream. Just. Just go back here. And I’ll go... run into a wall or something. And this will all be some sort of fever dream.”

You settle the Christmas Scarecrow back into its rightful spot on your mantle, before turning around. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to run full speed at the wall just opposite. 

“‘Haunted’ is a little much, don’t you think?” The same velvety voice from earlier asks, and you turn to find the very same intruder leaping off your mantle onto the ground. “I’m not a ghost, or anything.”

He comes to stand in front of you, arms folded and lips pulled into a frown. Looking upon him now, you see the similarities to the Christmas Scarecrow- even the loose thread in the embroidered tree of his overall pockets is identical. It... it really is your Christmas Scarecrow, standing before you in human form. 

You nod to yourself, a peaceful wave of acceptance washing over you and- 

No wait, never mind. That wave is nausea- you’re blacking out.

++

When you come to, you’re arranged neatly on your couch with your scarecrow hovering over you. You almost want to faint again, but you hold strong. 

“You’re awake!” He cheers, waving a damp towel around. He’s been dipping it in a bowl of cool water and pressing it against your forehead and you flinch as his actions send icy drops over water scattering across your face. 

“And you used to be a scarecrow.” You grumble, sitting up. You squint and lean in closely, taking in every detail. Each mark on his skin, each strand of bright red hair, the smooth curve of his smile... it’s so human. Probably the most ethereal and beautiful human to walk the planet, but still human. One of his eyelids is a monolid and the other is a double lid and one of his front teeth is just slightly longer than the other and yet the effect is that he’s just so charming. Far too beautiful to be sitting in your tacky, poorly decorated apartment and far too beautiful to be spending most of his time as a cringe-y christmas-themed scarecrow that Jin probably fished out of the bottom of a clearance basket at a thrift shop and thought he could get away with re-selling. “You have maybe thirty seconds to explain before I call the police. Or an exorcist. Or both.”

He holds up his both his hands in surrender.

“Wait. Please.” He pleads. The desperate way he says the words makes you pause. Honestly, the sane thing to do would be to kick him out. Leave the weird, haunted scarecrow out on the street to fend for himself and go about your days as if this particular little supernatural incident never occurred. 

You sigh. 

“Just... please tell me what’s going on.” You finally say. “I won’t do anything drastic, but at least explain.”

Relied and gratefulness shines in his eyes and he clasps your hands gratefully between his own. Your attention is momentarily caught by the way his large hands dwarf your own. The bony prominences of his knuckles catch your attention- they shift and glide beneath his skin as his grip around your hand tightens. For some reason, the tiny action seems huge. You lift your gaze slowly to meet his eyes, which are round and warm. 

“My name is Taehyung.” He explains. “And I’m a Christmas Spirit.”

“Christmas Spirit?” You echo in bewilderment. Taehyung nods eagerly and sits forward. He pulls his legs together so that he can sit cross-legged and wraps his hands around his ankles. 

“Yup!” He says, and he’s surprisingly nonchalant despite the supernatural implications of his statement. “We’re beings that come about from the magic of the season. And our job is to spread Christmas cheer to whoever welcomes us into their home.”

As if that’s just a normal thing that someone can spring on you and not expect you to panic! Yet he announces it like he’s a five year old excited to explain the drawing he made of you in school that day. All you can really manage is to nod mutely for a moment. Despite the absurdity of his words, it certainly sounds like what you had done- taken a tacky, unwanted Christmas decoration and welcomed it into your home. 

“And that’s you, (Y/N).” He says warmly, and the way he says your name is so fond. Like you’re his oldest, most valued friend. It startles you- you don’t think you’ve ever had the syllables of your name pronounced with such care, like they are a precious gift. “You are the first human to ever welcome me into your home. All my friends eventually found people to take them, and I’m the last one to remain. I’ve never gotten to fulfil my duty, not even once.”

“Why not?” You croak out. Why was there a random little christmas ornament in Seokjin’s store that held this kind of power? Why did it end up with you? Who was this mysterious man in your house, gazing at you like you’re the best thing to ever happen to him?

“Well, it’s probably not hard to tell.” He admits, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck and then adjusting the santa’s hat atop his head. “Not many people want a Christmas-themed Scarecrow for a decoration. At least not around here.” He sighs. But then he turns to you and his gaze is bright. It’s a little blinding, his mega-watt smile, and it’s certainly overwhelming to have the full force of it directed at you. “But you gave me a chance! You took me home!”

“So... you spread Christmas cheer for me? What does that even mean? What happens when you finish?” You say, leaning back just a little to give yourself room to breath. His scent fills your nostrils and it’s overwhelming. A pleasant mix of christmas scents- gingerbread, cinammon, peppermint. It sits thick in the back of your throat like the pleasant burn of a hot, sweet drink. 

He looks surprised at the line of questioning and a frown replaces the warm, glowing look he’d borne just moments earlier. 

“Well, I’m not sure. I suppose when I finish then you put me away for a year or you pass me on to someone else.” He admits. “This is my first time, so I’m still learning the ropes.” He’s a little sheepish as he admits it. But then his gaze lights up again and he pulls himself up onto the couch so that he can sit shoulder-to-shoulder with you. “But spreading Christmas cheer is just helping you enjoy the season! You haven’t had a great experience with Christmas, right? I can help!”

You stiffen as you recall earlier that day; you had essentially aired all your dirty laundry to what you’d thought was an inanimate object. Taehyung now knew more about you than even some of your closest friends did. You’d unintentionally opened up and made yourself vulnerable to some guy you hardly knew. The thought has you recoiling. You’re not against the idea of opening up- certainly when people ask the right questions, you’ll answer honestly. But people rarely ask and you’ve never volunteered. No one has has access to every dirty detail like Taehyung now does. 

And for some reason that thought has you terrified.

“I’m... I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Taehyung.” You volunteer quietly. Taehyung stiffens at the tone of your voice. “You seem like a nice enough guy. Or spirit. Or scarecrow. Whatever you are. And I hope that one day you’ll find someone you can give lots of Christmas cheer to. But I didn’t sign up for this. I don’t want any of it- the “Christmas cheer” or the festivities, or anything. I’m just...” you inhale deeply. “I’m just trying to make the most of what I have.” 

You get to your feet, your back facing him. 

“You can stay the night, but I’ll take you back to Jin in the morning. I’ll see if I can convince any of my friends to take you, if you like.”

A slight tug on the sleeve of your jumper stops you from leaving. You glance down at your wrist. Taehyung has just the tip of your sleeve, pinched between his fingers. It’s not enough pressure to stop you from leaving. The slightest tug would liberate you from his grasp and you’d be free to go back to your room. 

“No one else will.” He admits quietly. There’s a sort of heart-aching tone to his voice that makes that tiny grip feel like he’s handcuffed to you. “I waited for five years in that store. I’d sit in a box for eleven months of the year, and hope that this year would be the one someone chose me and every day of December that passed I’d watch people walk right past me. And before that, I was passed around from store to store. People would keep me in the store until they realised I’d never sell and then they’d palm me off to someone else. They didn’t even have the guts to get rid of me. And I’d watch as the objects around me got chosen. They got sent to good homes. But never me. I have waited twenty five christmases for someone to let me in. You’re the first.” He quietly admits. He hasn’t changed or adjusted his grip on your sleeve. Just that tenuous, fragile grip, that little bit of hope that can be snapped at any moment keeps you in place. “Please.” He breathes. 

You stare at his fingers, at the tacky cuffs of his sleeve, at his hopeful, pleading expression. 

You don’t have to do this. He’s asking you, but he won’t force you. You can say no and have the bleary, lonely Christmas you’d originally planned. You can keep pushing everyone away and forever allow Christmastime to be a holiday of heartbreak for you. 

Or you could let this random Christmas Scarecrow and his sparkly, bright eyes into your home.

“Ok.” You finally say. “My work hasn’t shut down yet so I’m gonna be super busy for the next few weeks. But in between you can give it a go.”

The answering smile he gives you in turn has your heart fluttering in anticipation. 

Maybe Christmas won’t be so bad this year.

++

Although you had had every intention of welcoming Taehyung into your home and applying yourself to the festivities as best you could, your workplace dials everything up to eleven over the next few days, just as predicted. Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t whine or complain. He spends most of the day while you are at work in his scarecrow-form or binging netflix on your account and he spends his evenings stretched on the couch, or beaming at you over dinner. It’s kind of like having a loyal golden retriever to come home to, but maybe with better manners.

It’s actually kind of pleasant. You occasionally catch him humming Christmas tunes and he keeps leaving his Santa hat in strange places but otherwise he’s a rather nonintrusive roommate. He even makes you dinner on occasion and he’s not a terrible cook.

 It’s only as the weekend approaches and you’re contemplating how to spend it that it occurs to you that Taehyung hasn’t left the house once. It’s not like he can just wonder down the street in his scarecrow outfit- it’s not exactly designed to withstand subzero temperature. And you’ve been so slammed at work that it never occurred to you that you’d essentially let the poor guy stay with you and then left him to the equivalent of house arrest.

“Do you do much during the week?” You ask Taehyung across dinner that night. You had quickly learned that he does need to eat and shower and sleep like every human but he can stave it off by staying in his scarecrow form, and so dinner time had just become a shared meal most evenings. He had even waited in his scarecrow form for you to get back on the days you had finished late that week. He pauses through a mouthful of pasta and looks up, cheeks bulging. 

“Not much.” He confesses, after a noisy swallow. “I don’t really have anywhere to go.” He reminds you. 

Guilt churns in your stomach and sours your dinner. You had promised him you’d give him a chance, and yet here you were a week later, making him fend for himself in an unfamiliar and empty apartment with nothing to do but watch netflix and raid your pathetic excuse of a pantry.

“Right.” You sigh, thoroughly chastened. “I... forgot. I’m sorry- work just hit me really hard.”

“It’s fine.” Taehyung dismisses. “It’s my job to entertain you, not the other way round!”

You stir awkwardly at your food, still unable to dispel the guilt.

“Even so... we could go somewhere tomorrow, if you want? I have the weekend off.” You offer as nonchalantly as you can. “If you’re here for the rest of the month, you’ll need clothes. And proper bedding. We can pick that stuff up and then do some other things.” 

He positively beams at your offer and it’s jarring. You aren’t used to such joy at such simple things. It’s so easy to win a smile from him, but rather than make his smiles seem meaningless, it just seems to make them brighter. You’re not used to earning such easy affection for so little and it leaves you unsure what to do with yourself.

“Really?” He questions eagerly. “The whole day?”

You duck your head slightly to disguise your fluster. You’re not even sure why your heart seems to race at his smile. Perhaps because you’ve never seen such a beautiful person smile quite like that. 

“The whole day.” You reassure him. “I can make up for this week- I really didn’t mean to ignore you like this.”

Taehyung shakes his head. 

“Don’t be silly!” He scolds you. “You told me that work would be busy. It just means we have to make your weekend even more enjoyable to make up for a missed week.”

He gets abruptly to his feet, wiping pasta sauce from the corner of his mouth. 

“Oh, I have so much to plan! Can I borrow your laptop? I have to plan our day!” He asks. A little startled, you merely nod at him in bewilderment and he grins determinedly to himself. “Ok! My first day on the job. Here I go.”

He storms off and then performs a quick u-turn. 

“After I clean up my dishes.” He recalls sheepishly. 

The next morning you shuffle into your kitchen a bit bleary-eyed and still in your pyjamas. Taehyung never seems to be tired or grumpy no matter what time of day it is, and so it’s not surprise that he’s up and humming to himself as he cooks breakfast for the two of you. 

He hears you shuffle in the kitchen and glances over his shoulder to smile at you and it catches you off-guard for some reason. You’ve gotten used to him cooking meals, to his singing, even to just his general presence, but you can’t seem to get used to the way he seems to just smile so easily. Something about the way the wintery sun streams in through the windows and catches the tips of his hair and gilding the sharp edges of his handsome face is just ethereal. You can believe he’s not a human in that moment- he’s too gorgeous to be one.

“You’re up!” He cheers. You shake your head to try and rid yourself of your strange thoughts and shuffle forward to scrutinise the breakfast he’s preparing. 

“I’m making a Christmas classic.” He informs you when he notices you attempting to peer over his shoulders. “At least, according to her.” He gestures to your ipad on the counter, where he has one of those food blogs run by stay-at-home mums that write essays on their blogs instead of the actual recipes. This one seems to have a picture of tacky santas made from pancakes and whipped cream. 

Looking at Taehyung’s progress so far, it actually looks fairly similar to the picture, but that’s not saying that much considering the quality of the picture. 

“Isn’t that like cannabalism for you? Isn’t eating Santa basically eating your coworker?” You point out. Taehyung laughs, a full-bodied laugh that makes his eyes curl up into little crescent moons. 

“He’s actually my boss more than my coworker. But he loves Santa-themed decorations. He says it makes him feel jolly.” He tells you. 

There’s a lot to unpack there and so you choose to ignore it by occupying yourself with the cleanup. 

“So I was thinking that we can get some clothes for you today and maybe some other necessities if you’re going to be staying here all month.” You inform him. Taehyung nods distractedly, gently nudging one of the santa pancakes onto a plate. He reaches for a bowl of blueberries, arranging them into eyes and then spraying whipped cream in the shape of a beard. It kind of seems like he’s not very interested in your schedule for the day.

“Tadaa!” He exclaims, showing off his creation. He then reaches for a blueberry and pops it in his mouth. “They’re not bad for frozen fruits.” 

“Looks great.” You praise him. “But the plan for today-“

“(Y/N).” Taehyung cuts you off. He looks a little stern, but there’s still a warmth to his expression that softens the harsh edges. “I told you I’d plan today. It’s my job to make your Christmas season enjoyable. I’m not here for you to babysit- got it?”

Chastened and surprised, you nod meekly. He grins. 

“Good. Now open up.” He says, brandishing a blueberry menacingly between his fingertips at you. Your eyes widen.

“But Tae-“ you protest, and he’s shoved the blueberry into your mouth before you can finish your counterargument. This time, when he smiles, it’s a little smug.

“No “buts”.” He sighs. “Just sit down and enjoy breakfast and trust me. We can pick up some

clothes since the Christmas overalls are a bit weird, but after that, then I take over. Ok?” He demands, and you chew through the blueberry, a little disconcerted.

“Ok.” You finally agree reluctantly. 

Breakfast is a peaceful affair, with the two of you enjoying the pancakes. Cleaning up with Taehyung is almost domestic- there’s something pleasant about having him stand shoulder to shoulder with you, drying the dishes as you wash them. 

Outside is a frigid affair- it hasn’t quite hit the point where it’s snowing outside, but temperatures are definitely creeping lower and lower and Taehyung nearly glows blue in the short sprint to your car. You fix it by blasting the heater the second the two of you are safely secured in the vehicle. 

“So, if you’re planning the agenda for today, what are we doing after we grab you some clothes?” You ask conversationally. Taehyung pauses from where he’s flicking through your phone, scrutinising your spotify playlist like he’s studying it for an exam. He looks up, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration. 

“Well, I called in a favour from an old friend and booked us a free Christmas bauble painting workshop.” He announces, looking pleased with him. You squint at him and grimace just a little. 

“I don’t know if you know this, Taehyung, but I am terrible at drawing. I’m so bad that in highschool all these kids signed a petition to ban me from it.” You say, completely serious. He stares at you, bewildered for a moment. 

“Surely it can’t be that bad?” He wonders aloud. You just shake your head grimly at him.

One shopping trip later, Taehyung discovers that it is, in fact, that bad. 

“What did Rudolph ever do to deserve this?” He questions in abject horror. You feel your cheeks heat as you curl your hands protectively over your glass bauble. 

“It’s not that bad!” You insist. And then you hesitate. “Is it?”

Taehyung pries your fingers back to expose your masterpiece- splotchy brown paint, sparkles, and a lovely dollop of red paint in the centre. 

“(Y/N).” He says seriously. “It looks like someone walks into Santa’s stable, massacred all the reindeer and then scattered glitter over the scene of the crime.”

You squint at your painting, and, depressingly enough, his description is more accurate than what it’s meant to be. It was meant to be Rudolph, smiling happily through the glass of the bauble. 

“Forget it.” You snap, setting the glass bauble down and moving to get up. “This is stupid, anyway- we still have to pick up a mattress protector for your bed.”

“Wait!” He laughs, grabbing at your sleeve before you can make a hasty retreat. A firm tug from his has you landing back in your seat, face to face with the awful paint spill you call a painting. “I’m sorry! Just relax, ok? This is supposed to be fun.”

“I’m not having fun.” You sniff. “I told you I wasn’t good at painting and now you’re laughing at me.”

Taehyung winces. 

“Well... it’s not totally unsalvageable.” He finally compromises. He picks up the bauble, examining it for a moment. And then he picks up the paintbrush, and with quick, precise strokes of his paintbrush, he morphs the brown splotch formally known as Rudolph into a sort of sleigh-shape, and the red-splotch is rounded into the curve of Santa’s belly. “There.” He says, satisfied. You blink in wonder at the new creation. It’s still a little ugly and a little streaky, but it definitely doesn’t look like someone went on a Christmas-killing spree. “How’s that? Now you just have to decorate the sleigh an add sparkles. Surely you can’t mess that up.”

“You underestimate me.” You deadpan at him, and to your surprise, he snorts with laughter. A couple of the other people painting baubles glare at you, and Taehyung merely offers them a merry grin. 

“There used to be an elf like you at Santa’s workshop. No matter what he did, he’s somehow always mess up painting the toys.” Taehyung recalls, shaking his head fondly. “The two of you would get along.”

It’s the second time he’s mentioned it, and this time you can’t keep your curiosity at bay. 

“So... does that mean you’ve met with Santa? The Northpole and all that is a thing?” You ask. Taehyung nods. 

“It sure is! It’s where all Christmas Spirits grow up. We get raised there and taught about the best ways to spread Christmas cheer and then we get sent out to spread the cheer.” He sighs warmly. “I was top of my class.”

You grimace as you picture it. Dozens of Christmas Scarecrows, sitting at tables, studying books on how to paint the perfect Christmas bauble. 

“And so you just... get kicked out after a certain age? They raise you and send you out to sit on a shelf for eleven months of the year and then follow silly Christmas traditions for the last one?” You question him, and for a moment you’re horrified by the loneliness of such an existence. “Wouldn’t you... just get sick of Christmas? Spending your life only ever being in Christmas mode?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Taeyung reminds you as he sprinkles glitter over his painting of a snowman. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea, but you feel like he’s slapped you. “This is my first official Christmas on the job, remember? I haven’t had a chance to get sick of it yet.”

That makes you go silent. 

Taehyung seems to pick up on the way the mood has shifted. He stops detailing the buttons of his snowman painting and glances at you. Your eyes are wide and slightly misty.

He’s never felt particularly sorry for himself. Sure, the many years he’s spent gathering dust on a shelf have been lonely. He missed his friends, and all he could ever dream of was getting to sit on a mantle as he watched a family enjoy Christmas. That would be the closest he’d ever get, and that’s been his dream for so long. 

But for some reason, with you looking at him like that, the ache that he’s sought so hard to push down resurfaces. It’s like a damn breaking; it’s soothing. To have someone look at him and actually be acknowledging how hard and lonely and painful what he went through was. 

“I’m ok now.” He reassures you, though his voice is a little hoarse. The sheen to his eyes is a little less brilliant, and your heart aches for him as you process the twenty-five year wait that Taehyung has endured. “After all, someone welcomed me into their home, right?”

You blink- that someone is you. You’ve welcomed Taehyung into your home. Christmas is perhaps even lonelier for Taehyung than it is for you, and yet all he seems to want to do is make it enjoyable for you. 

You duck your head, distracting yourself by stirring the tip of your paintbrush in the bright red paint. 

“I guess so.” You finally say. You offer him a tentative smile. “I guess I have a responsibility to make this your best Christmas ever, then.” You resolve. 

Taehyung is silent for such a prolonged moment that you’re forced to face him again to ensure he hasn’t died. When you do, what you find is him gaping at you like a Christmas tree just sprouted from between your eyebrows. 

“What?” You question, a little defensively. It’s hard to interpret the look on his face. 

He shakes himself, coming back to his senses. 

“Nothing.” He reassures you. “I just realised that you’re a bit rare to smile, is all.”

Something about the look in his eyes has you feeling flustered- your fingers tremble enough that you knock over the glitter and it spills across Taehyung’s newly bought trousers. You get up quickly, horrified, but he laughs it off. 

“I think we’ve done enough damage to these baubles.” He says with a warm smile. “We still have things to buy, right?”

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Taehyung drags you from store to store, excited by the smallest things. He stares at a Christmas-themed hot chocolate for so long that you end up having to buy it for him. The look of gratefulness in his eyes is unparalleled and almost makes up for the fact that you literally have to plead with him to buy actual clothes and not just ridiculous Christmas Sweaters. In the evening, you wonder the shopping district, appreciating the lights that line the main street in brilliant arrays. 

When you slump down on your couch beside Taehyung that night, showered and ready for bed, you’re exhausted to the bones. Oddly, it’s not the same kind of tiredness you feel after a long week at work or after you’ve had a long argument with your mother. Instead, it’s a satisfying fatigue- like you’ll drift off quickly and dream of christmas lights and children’s laughter. 

“How did I do for my first day?” Taehyung yawns from where he is sprawled on the couch in a similar position to you. 

“Good.” You say, turning your head to glance at him. The dim light of your living room softens the slope of his nose, and his dark eyes catch flashes of the light that makes it seem like his irises are tiny little galaxies. There’s something so inherently peaceful about the warmth of his presence beside yours .

“I’m glad.” He says, though his lashes flutter and you too find yourself fighting off the comforting waves of sleep. He shifts and turns his head so that his cheek rests against the couch and he gazes at you. “Hey (Y/N)?” He calls gently. 

Your eyes are closed by this state. 

“Hmm?” You hum, in acknowledgement of his statement. He’s quiet for a moment before he ask.

“Why did you want to spend Christmas alone?” He asks. You blink open your eyes and look back at him. His gaze is steady and unwavering. But it’s not scolding or judgemental- instead he just seems curious. 

“You told me about your parent’s divorce and all their fighting on Christmas... but I heard the way you spoke to your mother on the phone too. You want to spend Christmas with her, don’t you? You just... can’t?” He asks. “You said you didn’t want the Christmas cheer... but you still took me home and decorated for Christmas. You painted the baubles and drank the hot cocoa and did the Christmas shopping... why do you pretend to hate it all?”

If it were anyone else, you would probably stop the conversation there. You have no interest in delving into your long, complex family history only to be met with looks of confusion, or worse, pity. 

But somehow, in the short space of a mere week, Taehyung has become someone you feel safe opening up to. Perhaps it’s because he’s already heard your whole story already. Or maybe because of the way he genuinely just wants to see you smile despite there being no substantial gain for him other than job satisfaction. Or because he’s proven himself trustworthy in the little ways he’s slotted himself into your life, like sharing meals. Whatever the reason, you don’t clam up like you usually do. 

“I don’t pretend to hate it.” You tell him softly. “I just got sick of trying to love it.”

Taehyung is silent for a long period of time. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, exhausted and sleepy. The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and the moment is strangely intimate. 

Then he smiles. 

“Then I’ll keep trying for you.” He promises. 

The two of you don’t manage to stay awake for much longer. Eventually the long day catches up to you- you drift off first, with one of those rare but peaceful smiles on your face, and Taehyung follows suit soon after.

++

The week that follows is one of the worst you’ve had in a while. You’re putting in ridiculous amounts of overtime and everyone is a little on edge from sheer exhaustion and the mounting stress of deadlines. 

And in that time, Taehyung is honestly a lifesaver. It’s remarkable, being able to come home from another hellish day at work to find him with dinner ready and a crappy Christmas movie set up. You spend your evenings laughing and unwinding. It’s not like you don’t have friends who will come rushing if you tell them you’ve had a bad day, but there’s something special about the way Taehyung does it. With bright smiles and easy laughs and an infectious joy that seems to chase the fatigue that plagues you away. 

It’s towards the end of the week that you hit your limit. You’re not really the type to cry much. You’ve always been fiercely independent, and your upbringing meant that you were the kind of child to retire to your room and work things out for yourself when you felt the need to cry. It’s not like crying ever really achieved anything. Maybe the occasional sad scene in a movie would get you, but usually you’re the kind to feel sad internally.

But after this particular day, you’re close to tears. Your boss had yelled at you, one of the major projects you had been working on just hit a major snag, and you found out your favourite coworker was leaving. 

All you can thing about as you walk in the door is spending another peaceful evening with Taehyung. You’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time to expand his taste past cheesy Christmas movies and had even made a list of films he may like during his lunch break. You swing open the door to your home, eagerly rushing in and calling out to Taehyung so that he knows you’re home. 

And that’s when your phone goes off. 

It’s your father, probably the last person you want to talk to right now. 

Unlike your mother, who at least was trying to make up for the ways she’s screwed up in your upbringing, your father has never acknowledged his part in their divorce. It was always what your mother did wrong, how she let him down, how it was because she changed and wanted different things. He was the kind of man who always wanted a big family, and he had adored your mother at first. But her pregnancy with you had been difficult and you had, admittedly, been a sickly child. She’s never outright said the words, but you suspect postpartum depression might have played a part in her downward spiral. Either way, she had resolved to have no further children after you, something your father was heavily against. 

You suppose it can’t have been easy- your father had been in love and the two of them had agreed on the kind of future they wanted together- the kind filled with children, a quiet suburban life not far from either of their parents. And for your mother to change so suddenly and drastically would have been devastating and incomprehensible to your father. 

Still, you can’t help the resentment and hurt you feel towards him. Why did you have to get caught in the crossfire of his heartbreak? And then the icing on the cake was his remarriage. 

His wife is a lovely woman. Coming into the marriage with three children of her own, she had treated you with the same love and kindness she expected of your father towards her children. Her children, however, were not bound to such conduct, and made it their personal mission to make your life a living hell. Perhaps they felt insecure over the fact that your father was related to you by blood and they weren’t.

Either way, it put him in a difficult position- perhaps he felt he couldn’t tell them to back off without it coming across as favouritism. But he could have done something- spoken to his wife, or chosen you before the family he married into. But he didn’t. He ignored it and turned a blind eye and to this day he continues to pretend that things are normal. Especially after the birth of your half-sibling.

“Hi.” You say, as you answer the phone. Taehyung has stepped into the entryway with you, watching curiously as you answer the phone. 

“Hi sweetheart!” Your dad calls on the other side of the line. You wince at the unwelcome nickname.

“To... to what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask. You can hear a loud racket in the background. Its probably your half-sister. She’s always been on the louder side, even as a baby. 

“Nothing! I was just thinking it’s been a while since we last chatted. You haven’t been returning my calls.” You have no doubt the sadness in his voice is genuine, yet somehow it feels insincere. 

“I’ve just been really busy at work.” You lie, rather than admit you had seen the missed calls from him and not even bothered to listen to the messages he left. “I haven’t had a chance to call you back.”

“Right... right. No, that’s fine. I’m sure your very busy.” He rushes to reassure you. “I was just calling because your mother contacted me. She was hoping I could convince you to spend Christmas with us.”

You stiffen at the familiar topic. You had thought it had been a little too quiet on her end. Perhaps she had thought that if she couldn’t convince you to come home, maybe your father could. She’s always had this idea in her head that maybe you aren’t close to her because you prefer your father, and it’s not like she can handle having a long enough conversation with him to find out she’s wrong. It’s surprising she even managed to let him know your plans for Christmas. 

“It’s fine. Like I told mum, I’d really much rather spend it here this year. Besides, I thought you all were going away for Christmas this year? We already spent Christmas together last year.” You say, pointedly trying to remind him that Christmas isn’t even a yearly thing with him. He does the contractual every-second-year with you, and then plans fun events with his family on the years he isn’t stuck babysitting. 

“That’s true. But that’s why I’m calling! It took a bit of convincing, but there’s a spot on this trip with your name on it, if you want it.” He tells you. He almost sounds excited, like he’s really done something thoughtful and kind. Not just made some last-minute attempts to shoehorn you in. The invite hadn’t been there to start with, after all. It’s only as an afterthought that he’s made any attempt to add you in- a chance to pretend like things are good. Like the two of you aren’t on rocky terms the rest of the year. Like you’re close enough to go on holidays with your stepfamily. 

“I think I’m fine dad.” You finally say. Taehyung is watching the expressions play across your face with mild curiosity. He probably can’t hear your father’s voice on the other line, but he can see the anger on your face, and hear the wobble to your tone. “You have fun on your trip. I’ll make do here.”

There’s a beat of silence and you hear your father sigh. You grimace- that’s his pre-scolding sigh. The sigh he gives before any lecture he thinks you’ve earned. As if he has any parental claim to scolding you. 

“(Y/N),” your father begins. “It’s Christmas. Don’t be like this- you should be spending time with your family-“

“I did.” You cut him off, and you surprise yourself with the way tears fill your eyes. You squint, trying to keep them at bay. Taehyung watches with alarm as he registers the way you are on the verge of crying. “I spent every year. With you and mum. And then you and then mum and then you and then mum. I tried for so. damn. long. to do the family Christmas thing, but all it ever ended in was the two of you letting me down. Mum was too drunk or you were too busy. And yeah, maybe you guys were going through your own stuff. But don’t you dare try and tell me that Christmas is about family because if that’s what family is, I don’t want it. At least if I spend Christmas alone, neither of you can let me down.” You snarl into the phone line. 

Your father is silent after your outburst. Taehyung watches you, waiting for your response. 

And the tears finally spill forth, rolling down your cheeks. 

“Well, if that’s how you feel, then I won’t stop you.” Your father finally says. He sounds hurt, as if you’re the one who’s hurt him. “I guess we’ll see you in the new year. Your sister’s birthday is coming up and Rachel wants to have a big party since she’s ten this year.” 

“I’ll see you then.” You say, your throat raspy and your voice small. 

You’ve barely hung up the call before two strong arms have wrapped around your figure. You go stiff in Taehyung’s arms. This is probably the first time he’s hugged you, and it isn’t unpleasant. Instead, the scent of gingerbread and peppermint fills your nose and it’s strangely soothing. You shift and turn your head just slightly so that your face is buried into the soft cream of his jumper, one of the fresh purchases from the other day. 

“You can cry if you like.” He tells you, and you feel the words rumble from deep in his chest. “I won’t look.” He promises. “That was painful for me to hear, and it’s not even my dad- if you want to cry, then cry.” His voice cracks on the end of his sentence, and you abruptly realise that Taehyung is crying. He’s known you for just a short couple of weeks, and the only nice thing you’ve done for him is not drop a tacky Christmas Scarecrow back into a box of junk, and yet he’s crying just from hearing your half of a painful phone call. 

Perhaps it’s the permission you need. For all of the long, lonely years you were stuck in the middle of feuding exes, you never gave yourself permission to cry. Instead, you’d retire to your room, pressing a pillow to your ears to drown out the sounds of screaming. 

For a long time, you just stand there, sobbing into Taehyung’s arms. He runs his hands soothingly over the back of your hair, and eventually the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulls you into a sense of peace. 

Taehyung is quick to act from there- before long, you are forcefully seated on your couch with a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Taehyung crouches before you, swiping at the tear trails on your cheeks with his thumbs. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks cautiously. You grimace and shake your head. 

“It’s just the same old stuff.” You reassure him. “Long day at work; daddy issues; the usual standard.”

Taehyung smiles and settles himself beside you on the couch, tugging the blanket from your hands so that he can curl under it. 

“Good thing your personal Christmas Spirit is here to save the season.” He whispers conspiratorially. He leans forward towards the coffee table and grabs your iPad, before pulling it into the safe cocoon of your blanket. “I’ve been researching all day! Tomorrow’s your day off, so it’s week 2 of spreading Christmas cheer.” He announces, unlocking the iPad and scrolling through the internet page he has open. 

You nearly choke on your hot chocolate. 

“Taehyung,” you rasp. Your oesophagus is probably blistering as you speak. “That’s a page for date ideas. This stuff is all for couples.”

“We are a couple.” Taehyung answers, confused. He points to himself and then to you. “A couple of people.” And then he grins at you and you realise he was teasing. 

You snort and can’t hold back your laugh. Taehyung’s smile softens and he leans into your personal space. 

“There it is.” He remarks. Wonder fills his tone. “That lovely smile.” He taps the tip of your nose fondly. 

The smile slips off your face at his words. Lovely? Your smile? He thinks your smile is lovely?

A weird, electric feeling fills you at the thought, and you lean away from him quickly before your stupid heart can get any funny ideas. He didn’t mean anything by that compliment. He’s a Christmas Spirit- it’s literally his job to make you smile. You won’t overthink it and ruin this strange but precious arrangement you have going on. 

Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look hurt or uncomfortable at the way you’d blatantly pulled away from him. Instead, his smile widens. 

“Good idea. You gotta rest up those smiling muscles for tomorrow or you’ll get a cramp.” He tells you. He then gets up and and stretches, letting out a tremendous yawn. He glances over his shoulder at you with a wink. “Prepare yourself for the best day ever.”

++

Said “best day ever” begins with you staring listlessly up at your ceiling. Taehyung had talked big the night before, promising you a day of fun and enjoyment. 

But you just can’t picture it. You’ve spoken to coworkers and friends before, about the excitement of Christmas. How they see lights or hear carols or even smelling gingerbread triggers this warm, nostalgic and joyful feeling deep in their hearts. But you’ve always felt nothing. Christmas has always been just another day, to you. 

With a sigh, you roll out of bed. 

Out in your living room, Taehyung is fidgeting with your smart tv, trying to get it to play what looks like Mariah Carey’s rendition of “All I want for Christmas is you”. He’s mumbling to himself, and his santa’s hat droops lower and lower on his head. The little white pompom at the end brushes his nose, and the bright red strands of hair that peak out from beneath the cap stick out in every direction. 

Apart from the santa’s hat, he’s dressed remarkably stylishly. That had been a big surprise on your little outing the week before- his impeccable fashion taste. Today he’s wearing a soft, fuzzy red cardigan over a large white t-shirt and tan trousers. 

“The volume’s off.” You inform him. He starts, glancing at you in surprise, before confirming that he has accidentally managed to turn the volume all the way down. “You operate technology like a grandpa.”

Taehyung grins as you take the remote from him, adjusting the volume and selecting the song so that the familiar opening begins to chime through your speakers. 

“You say that like I didn’t catch you yelling at your printer two nights ago.” He chuckles. “Are you ready for our ultimate Christmas adventure?”

He must catch the way your guard goes up, because his smile softens from something amused into something more gentle and comforting.

“Nervous?” He asks. You hesitate, just a moment, before offering a terse nod. 

“Sorry.” You finally settle on. “I just... I’ve tried the “christmas cheer” thing. And it didn’t work Tae. I just feel like... Christmas is just another day.”

“That’s because it is just another day.” He reminds you. “But if you give it a chance, it can be more.”

 You bite your lip hesitantly, and he shakes his head. 

“What if you didn’t think about it like Christmas?” He asks. “How about, today is a day for me to cheer you up after a long week. We’re gonna do fun things and enjoy ourself because we want to. Does that sound doable?”

It does. It’s strangely reassuring and low pressure, and something about his words and the patient, warm light to his eyes puts you at ease. You don’t know why you feel so much pressure about enjoying Christmas but maybe it’s because you don’t want to let Taehyung down. He has so much riding on this Christmas and you don’t want to be the person who ruins Christmas for him. Who makes its a tedious, miserable event like your parents did for you. 

And maybe a small part of you wants to enjoy the season for you. To claim back the years lost to misery and fighting and to share in the merriment that everyone else holds.

“Ok.” You finally agree. “Lead the way.”

Taehyung beams in response. 

First on the agenda seems to be in the park in the centre of your city. Not every year in this place has a white Christmas- some Christmases are just cold and muddy, with a thin layer of ice over dirty pavements. This particular Christmas has been quite frosty, and quite early on- the first snowfall had been earlier that week and now a thick layer of snow coats the ground and clings to thick winter coats. 

“Tadaa!” Taehyung proclaims, waving a hand out towards your first activity of the day. An open carriage, decked out in sleigh bells, and two gorgeous white horses, standing tall and sleek in their crystalline surroundings. 

You creep closer, and their handler spots you. He’s a cheerful man in a formal suit, offset by the bright red santa hat atop his head. He matches Taehyung, who seems reluctant to part with his beloved accessory no matter the time of day.

“You must be (Y/N),” the old man cheers, crowding closer. His horses snort and stamp their feet at his excitement, but he pays them no mind, instead skittering forward to greet you. “Taehyung has told me all about you! Come, get yourself seated and we’ll begin the tour.”

You glance at Taehyung, who merely shoos you encouragingly towards the carriage. 

“How did you afford this?” You hiss at him. He shrugs and smiles. 

“Christmas spirits have connections.” He whispers, before placing a hand on either side of your waist. You smother a yelp as you feel him practically lift you up the first step, and it doesn’t take you much encouragement to scramble onto your seat from there. It’s a vain attempt to distract yourself from the feeling of his large hands encircling your waist. 

“All seated?” Your guide questions. Taehyung nods as he scoots in close to you and that’s really all the warning you get before the carriage lurches forward. 

You steady yourself with a yelp, and an arm around you from Taehyung keeps you upright. You glance at him in surprise and are momentarily caught off-guard by his profile. A thin, delicate smattering of snowflakes has been caught on the breeze and they catch on his hair and lashes. The tip of his nose has gone endearingly red in the cold. 

He turns his gaze when he feels your stare and he grins. 

“Enjoying the sights?” He wonders innocently. You grimace and look away. He merely laughs. “Let me explain to you the logic behind our first activity of the day. First of all, it came as a package with the activity my friend got me for free. Secondly, I thought that it might help you see how little perspective can make the things you see every day so much more special.” He finishes his explanation by pointing an arm across you to gesture at the scenery of the park. He’s right; you’ve seen this scenery hundreds of times, across all seasons, but there’s something special about it in the moment. The warmth of families, covered in thick, puffy jackets, the flutter of chilly snowflakes against your skin, the sheen of frost over the pond on the far end of the park. It’s all familiar and yet in that moment, surrounded by the glimmering sound of sleigh-bells and the stead thud of horse shoes against the pavement, the park you’ve known since moving to this city is different, magical. 

The carriage pulls to a stop beside a crowded pavillion. On the other side, you can glimpse people taking advantage of the outdoor figure skating rink thats set up in the park over winter. 

“Is this our second stop?” You ask Taehyung, as he helps you alight from the carriage. Oddly, though he grasps your hand as he helps you down, he doesn’t release it once you’re on solid ground. Instead, he keeps his fingers wrapped around yours as he waves farewell to the carriage driver. 

“You guessed it!” He congratulates you. “Stop number two; appreciating the fun of winter! Nothing screams winter wonderland like a figure skating rink.”

“Can you skate?” You ask him as he leads you to the skate rental counter. 

“No?” He asks. “But how hard can it be, right? It looked really easy on all the videos I watched in preparation.”

A short while later, you get to bear witness to Taehyung learning just how hard figure skating can be. 

“It’s just like walking.” You attempt to soothe him, all the while wincing at the vice-like grip he has on your hands. “Just keep standing upright.”

“Have I always been this tall?” Taehyung breathes. He’s gone deathly pale, and you don’t think the cold is the reason behind it. “Why is the ground so far away?”

“You can do it.” You urge, still allowing him to cling onto your forearms like he’s about to plummet off a cliff edge and you are the only thing keeping him from certain death. “Come on, Tae.” 

He shoots up straight, eyes widening at the sudden nickname. Unfortunately, it’s the wrong move, because he topples forward, and the only thing keeping him from lying face-down on the ice is you. You’re toppling backwards before you can stop yourself. 

Taehyung yelps and you brace yourself for your head to impact against the hard ice, but it never comes. Instead your head lands in the firm cushion of Taehyung’s palm. Somehow, in the chaos of slipping, he’s landed on top of you but managed to stop you from banging your head. 

You blink open your eyes and for a moment, your senses are overwhelmed with the scent of peppermint and the warm brown of his eyes. He looks just as startled as you are. You feel your face heat and his breath puffs warm against your cheeks, contrasting the chill of the air.

“Maybe figure skating isn’t for me.” He volunteers sheepishly. 

You can’t help but offer a crooked smile. He’s so silly but it’s strangely endearing. He looks surprised at your smile, and it seems that’s the moment he abruptly realises the position you’re in. Quickly, he scrambles off you and helps you into a sitting position. 

“Sorry.” He says glumly. “I thought it would be fun, but clearly I overestimated myself.”

You get to your feet and offer a hand to help him get up. He looks nervously at your outstretched hand. 

“It is fun.” You reassure him. “And it can still be fun. Just hold on to me, and trust me ok?”

Something in his gaze softens and he accepts your outstretched hand. It takes a bit, but with an arm around his chest, you manage to stabilise him between yourself and the wall of the ice-skating rink. 

He peeks up at you through his bright red fringe. His santa’s hat sits lopsided on his head. The smile he gives you this time is different from all the other ones. It’s not as ecstatic or joy-filled. This one is more reserved, almost shy; you feel a bit like you’ve been punched in the chest for some reason when you see it. 

You stretch out your hands again, your hands flat and palms extended skywards, and he place one hand into each of your palms. Even through your thick gloves, your skin feels oddly warm when he holds you. 

Gently, you take slow, gliding steps backwards, while he follows with much smaller, much more jilted steps. 

“It’s just like walking, but smoother.” You explain, and the words are forced through a tight throat. Perhaps the cold is getting to you- that’s the only explanation you can think of for why you suddenly feel so short of breath. 

Taehyung nods, focussing hard on the ice. He gives a big exhale that releases in a huge, cloudy breath, and presses one foot forward. And then the other. It’s not long before he’s gliding along before you. 

“That’s it!” You cheer. “I’m going to let go of one hand now, ok? I can’t keep skating backwards or I’ll crash into someone.”

Taehyung looks a bit fearful, but then he nods with determination lighting his eyes. Slowly, you release one hand and spin so that you’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him. He still maintains a death grip on the hand that’s still grasping his, but he manages to stay upright and not go tipping forward. 

“Ok, here we go.” You say, and you take one step forward, followed by a second, and then a third and before you know it, you and Taehyung are drifting across the ice, albeit slowly and with lots of breaks to allow Taehyung to steady himself on the wall. 

It’s actually quite fun, and relaxing, gliding across the ice like this. Music crackles through the speakers, and the people around you are all enjoying themselves. Surrounded by the bright flurry of December snow, it’s easy to smile and let loose and enjoy the season. 

Eventually, the cold does manage to catch up with you, but Taehyung’s quick to press on to the next scheduled activity before you can feel too sad that the ice skating is over. 

He crowds you off the ice, eagerly urging you forward with a hand planted on either shoulder.

“Hurry! We’re going to be late!!” He informs you. You deliberately slow down at that and he gets so huffy and impatient at your silliness that you find yourself laughing. 

After warming yourselves up with a hot chocolate and some lunch in the warmth of a well-heated cafe, it’s starting to get a bit dark by the time Taehyung leads you to your final activity. He refuses to say what it is- instead he leads you in an increasingly convoluted route on public transport. He gets more and more amused the more unfamiliar with your destination you become, and by the time you step off the bus on the snowy outskirts of the city, you’re starting to think the whole Christmas Spirit thing was an act designed to murder you in a forest somewhere.

Particularly when he claps a hand over each eye, obscuring your vision. 

“Taehyung,” you sigh. “If this is how you’re going to murder me, can’t you at least let me see the knife coming?”

“I’m not going to murder you.” He scoffs, though with gentle pressure, he leads you forward, his chest pressed protectively to your back. “I just want to surprise you.”

“I’m very easily surprised.” You remind him. “I don’t need to be blind in a forest to be surprised. Just give me a box of chocolates after a long day of work or something.”

“Hush.” He shushes you. “Just walk, and trust me.”

You take a deep, inhaling breath and your lungs fill with what has become the calming, warm scent of peppermint and cinnamon. It’s Taehyung, you remind yourself. He’s had plenty of opportunity to hurt you or scam you or even kill you but instead all he’s done is wait eagerly for you to return home and watch tacky Christmas movies with you. 

“Ok.” He says, against your ear, and you shiver at the heat of his mouth tickling the cold tips of your ears. “Are you ready?”

Words fail you for some mysterious reason, so you settle for nodding mutely. 

Taehyung drops his hands from your eyes and it takes you a few blinks to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light. 

What lies before you is a long, brightly lit pathway. Market stalls line the paths, with vendors brandishing their wares. Fairly lights string across the stalls, in various tones ranging from warm-toned white lights to festive blues, greens, reds. Overhead, brilliant archways decorated with marvellous, intricate arrays of Christmas lights mark the path.

“What... what is this, Tae?” You breathe. Your chest hurts a little and this time you’re willing to admit that it has nothing to do with the cold. 

“This is the Annual Christmas Markets.” He announces proudly. “Brought to you by your local council and sponsored by Subway (sandwiches not included).”

You take hesitant, wondering steps forward. You don’t really have any words for the strange, ballooning feeling in your chest. Like your heart is so full it’s about to burst. You feel on the verge of tears yet at the same time you feel free and light and happy. 

“It’s so... pretty.” You say. Taehyung beams and steps in close so that he’s shoulder to shoulder with you. 

“Pretty magical, huh?” He asks you. “I found it on google! Did you know the city throws this event every year?”  

You shake your head wonderingly. 

“I had no idea.” You admit. He tilts his head towards the festivities.

“Then let’s explore!” He cries, tugging you forward with a hand wrapped around yours.

There’s lots to do around the markets. There’s christmas light sculptures scattered around, like a scavenger hunt of sorts. Taehyung’s favourite is the one of a santa formed from wires twisted together, skiing across the snow on a sleigh, two reindeers are standing tall. Your favourite is probably a tunnel of lights, tightly woven together to create an archway as people weave through it- you like the way it turns Taehyung’s bright red hair into brilliant licks of flames, and how his eyes look like they hold the entire night sky within their depths. 

There’s a mulled wine stall, although Taehyung pulls a face at the taste and you have to buy him a hot chocolate to get him to forgive you. 

“I just don’t understand how anyone can dislike Christmas carols!” Taehyung protests across his hot chocolate as the night progresses. You’re nearing the edge of the market stalls, which open up onto a big open space, paved with asphalt and with the snow scraped off it where various families and groups of people are starting to gather. Most of them are in parked vehicles, all facing towards a central stage that hasn’t been lit up yet. 

“If you talk to anyone who works in retail, they just get repetitive after a while.” You explain. “I mean, “Last Christmas” is a good song in theory, but not after the six repeats that played before your lunch break.” 

Taehyung “tsk”’s and shakes his head. 

“I think you just have the wrong associations with the songs.” He sighs. “If you associate it with work and bad things, of course you won’t like it! You have to make positive memories and think of those when you hear the songs.”

The stage lights up ahead of you and a small band starts to take the stage. You gaze at the performers as they prepare.

“Any suggestions?” You ask softly. You surprise yourself, and when you look at Taehyung, he looks a little stunned to. “To make positive memories. What should I think of instead, when I hear those songs?”

He searches your gaze for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth quirks in a little half smile. 

“Follow me.” He urges, leading you across the asphalt towards the stage. You have to duck between parked cars where people have makeshift little dens to enjoy the show from. He brings you to a stop where there’s a bit of a space just before the stage. A few couples have already taken advantage of what is essentially a dance floor. He spins around and pulls you in close. You stumble a little, not expecting the movement, but it seems he was expecting that. He steadies you with a hand against your waist and tugs one of your free arms up to rest on his shoulder. “When you hear this song... you can think about today.” He tells you with a smile. “And about all the fun we had!”

He begins to sway you back and forth in a slow turn. You wonder why his weird Christmas Spirit school taught him how to slow dance. Up on the stage, the singer begins to croon the opening notes of “have yourself a merry little christmas”. You tell yourself its the cold that urges you to shuffle in closer to Taehyung as he sways you from side to side. He’s so warm, and solid. Unbidden, your heart starts to beat a little faster, and when you raise your eyes to meet his, something about the warmth in those dazzling depths has you feeling light-headed. 

“What do you think about when you hear them?” You ask him, changing the subject in an attempt to overcome the strange, overwhelming emotion you suddenly feel weighted with. He spins you out in a twirl, before tugging you back in. 

“Hmm...” he contemplates. “I think about hot chocolates, and snowball fights, and the smell of Christmas trees. And Christmas lights and Christmas bells.” He lists, his gaze hazy as he thinks through his list. It’s a bit of a scary thought, but you could honestly stay here forever, watching Taehyung list the things he loves, being swayed gently in his arms. And then he glances down at you and there’s something so warm and fond in his expression that you feel your face heat. “And I think about your smile.”

A funny thing happens in that moment, after his confession. Your heart goes on strike for a moment- even she seems shocked at the sudden turn of events. And then suddenly the air is electric, and all your senses are just filled with Taehyung. His smell, his eyes, his hair, his warmth... his lips.

It’s a sudden revelation, like being struck by lightening. The look in his eyes seems to thread into your veins, leaving burning trails in its wake. His scent washes into the very bottom of your lungs. You like him. In a very short amount of time, he’s wiggled past all your defences and now here you are, standing in his arms, and you realise you want to stay there. You want to keep seeing his smile and keep spending time with him and you don’t want this Christmas to end. 

The songs draws to a close and you step away from his embrace. He seems to sense your sudden change in mood. 

“Is everything ok?��� He asks you and you nod, smiling in a way you hope is reassuring. 

“Yeah. I just noticed how cold it’s getting, is all. Shall we head back home?” You ask. Taehyung blinks and glances around as if he’s just now realising how cold it is. He shivers and steps in close to you. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” He admits. “Let’s head home.” He wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your biceps to try and warm you up. “Did you have fun, though?” He asks eagerly. 

“Yeah.” You say, and this time the smile isn’t forced. “Yeah, I did.”

++

A week later, you’re stressed and bustling around the kitchen like a madwoman. 

“Is it golden brown yet or is it just the oven light?” Taehyung wonders, attempting to peer into your oven without opening the door. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just check now?”

Your realisation of your feelings hadn’t changed too much around the apartment. As work for the year finally drew to a close this week, you hadn’t really had a chance to overthink it, and then you’d been busy planning a pre-Christmas dinner upon learning that Taehyung has always wanted to try a family Christmas dinner. You’d insisted upon throwing one despite his protests that he was the Christmas Spirit, not you. Finally, he had relented, and you were keen to return all the memories he had given you tenfold. 

Only a couple of your friends had still been without plans, this late into December. Jin always manages to make time where food is involved, and Dahyun had had to cancel flights back home for the year. She’s also dragging along an old friend of hers, Jungkook, and then Nayeon had invited Namjoon and Jihyo. They’re all good friends of yours, but there’s something about organising a home-cooked Christmas meal that is just inherently stressful.

“The recipe says another ten minutes.” You remind Taehyung in between your attempts to both whip the cream for dessert and finish placing all the appetisers into sufficiently aesthetic containers. 

Taehyung frowns, and straightens. He watches you dance around in a frazzled manner for a few minutes, before catching you by the shoulders. 

“Hey.” He scolds. “I know I said I wanted a Christmas dinner, but not at the expense of your sanity. I don’t appreciate you undoing all my hard work of making you enjoy Christmas.”

You stiffen at the warmth of his palms against your shoulders before taking a deep breath. 

“You’re right.” You finally say. “I’m sorry. I just... I want you to have a good time. I’ve had so much fun these past few weeks and I want you to feel what I feel. I never thought I could ever look forward to something like Christmas, and yet here I am, throwing an entire Christmas dinner.”

“Seeing you enjoy Christmas and smiling like this makes me feel happier than you can imagine, (Y/N),” Taehyung reassures you. “This dinner is just a bonus. I’m grateful for it, but what would make me feel the best is if you’re having a good time.”

There he goes again. He’s remarkably smooth for a strange mystical being that was raised in the North Pole. He’s just so good at making your stomach feel like it’s filled with butterflies and making your heart forget to beat. With a deep, resigned sigh, you nod to him. 

“Ok. I’ll chill out.” You promise, before returning to your preparations in a far more mellow manner. 

Guests start trickling in. Jin just barely manages to avoid a throttling when you see him, after his stunt where he didn’t show up when there was an intruder in your home. It all worked out fine, but it’s always offensive to learn that your friend would leave you to die because he had “an oven emergency”. Jungkook and Dahyun come in bickering over the intricacies over some meme they’d seen, and Jihyo drags in far too much alcohol for the night. 

The night settles into a comfortable sort of atmosphere- people scatter across the living space of your apartment, catching up and just generally enjoying the vibe. Taehyung gets a few probing questions into the nature of your relationship and Jin seems to develop some sort of facial tic with all the eyebrow wagging he’s doing, but otherwise things go smoothly.

At least until it becomes apparent that Jin had taken the liberty of doing some decorating of his own while you were setting up for dinner. 

Namjoon and Jihyo are the first of the victims to the numerous mistletoes Jin has concealed around your home. Luckily, they are dating and so it’s just a quick peck between them to the sounds of laughter and hooting. 

At least until the other attendees realise that if Jin has hidden multiple mistletoes around your home, at any moment they could fall victim to a dreaded mistletoe kiss, with a completely undesired partner. 

From there, things devolve into a terrified, suspicious sort of scavenger hunt. Jin thinks it’s hilarious, watching you all scour the place like sniffer dogs, comfortably reclined on the couch as he shouts out hints that could be true or could be total lies. It’s always hard to tell with him. 

Of course Taehyung, poor, sweet naive Taehyung, had missed the dramatic revelation of Jin’s prank. He had been in the kitchen, dutifully monitoring dessert as it slowly cooked in the oven, and he had only stepped out to check with you when you thought it would be done. 

You feel him tap your shoulder in the middle of combing through your mantle, making sure Jin hadn’t hidden anything amidst the photo frames and decorations that sat there. You jump, surprised, and turn to face him. 

Only for Jin’s screeching laughter to reach you. 

“Victims number 2!” He calls triumphantly. Taehyung looks confused, and you grimace as you finally spot the offending object. A small bit of mistletoe twisted in amongst the tinsel lining your ceiling. You’re not even sure how the madman actually got it there without anyone noticing. 

“Mistletoe!” Dahyun chants, from where she’d been pressed into a corner and snarling at anyone who dared walk close enough to her lest she too fall victim to the mistletoe. “Mistletoe. Mistletoe. Mistletoe.” Slowly everyone joins the chant until your apartment sounds a bit like a cult. 

“Let’s not be hasty!” You plead. “Think about it. If you let me off, then we can all ignore this silly tradition.”

Taehyung, interestingly, has gone very still upon realising the two of you stand beneath a mistletoe. 

“(Y/N).” he calls, audible only to you beneath the chanting. “We can’t leave. It’s a mistletoe- I have to.”

You squint at him. 

“What do you mean? It’s just a silly tradition, why would you have to-“ you begin, before trailing away as it occurs to your that Taehyung is actually not a human. This isn’t two friends caught beneath a mistletoe and talking their way out of a silly tradition. Taehyung is a Christmas Spirit and thus bound to different rules to you. “Oh.” You breathe. “So I have to... do that?”

With a deep blush that nearly rivals the brilliant red of his hair, Taehyung nods. You wince and let your gaze drop. His mouth is a soft pink- one of the first things you’d bought on that first shopping trip had been lip balm after he’d seen you applying your own. He applies it meticulously and his lips are always faintly glossy and soft looking. This close you can count the tiny moles that sit against his skin like little stars, and you feel a little bit like your heart is in danger when you finally draw your gaze back up to meet his. 

His expression is a little hard to interpret, but you don’t let yourself overthink it. You slide your palms up around the back of his neck and tug his mouth down to press against yours. 

Taehyung makes a little surprised noise when you do, and it makes you blush. The smell of peppermint and cinammon is strong but captivating, and you wish you could stay there. You wish you could keep kissing him, but you know it’s wrong.

With a sigh, you pull back. Taehyung’s eyes are round and mystified and the blush sits high on his cheeks. His tongue darts out to swipe his lips and he clears his throat awkwardly. 

“I...” his gaze flickers down and then he averts his gaze quickly. Around you, your friends let out a few wolf whistles before returning to the panicked search for any other offending items. Taehyung’s breathing seems a little faster and you can’t say you’re in much better state. “I just came out to ask you about the dessert.” He finally manages, though his voice comes out a little raspy. You nod, hoping he doesn’t think much of the way you mirror his fierce blush. 

“Right...” you say awkwardly. “I’ll just... go and check on it.”

You dart around him, heading straight for the kitchen. 

When you are there, you take advantage of the lack of other party guests and bury your face in your hands. It was just a mistletoe kiss, it didn’t mean anything and yet your traitorous heart is rioting in your chest, threatening to go on strike. Your mind can’t help replaying the moment- his lips on yours, his familiar, striking scent, the scratch of his ugly Christmas jumper beneath your fingers. The size of this stupid crush is embarrassingly enormous. 

It takes a few moments, but you manage to regain your composure enough to discover that the dessert is very slightly undercooked, which you know Jin will bitch and moan about, but everyone else won’t mind. It’s nothing copious amounts of ice cream or custard won’t cover up. 

When you step out into your living room, it seems the panic over the mistletoes has settled. Jungkook had smothered Jin until he caved and gave up all the locations and now your living room has devolved into a ridiculous Christmas dance party- Jin and Dahyun belt out the lyrics to Last Christmas with absurd amounts of drama and gravitas, and Jihyo and Namjoon are curled up on the couch, murmuring to each other softly. Jungkook has gotten ahold of Taehyung and is currently trying to teach him ridiculous tiktok dances, and all-in-all it’s kind of a dream vibe for a Christmas party. No pain, or fighting, or tears. Just warmth and laughter, and a shared camraderie of the season. 

You find yourself smiling as you finally admit to yourself that maybe Taehyung was right. 

Christmas isn’t so bad after all. 

++

After everyone goes home, you and Taehyung are left to the cleanup. 

It’s a bit awkward, standing shoulder to shoulder after the kiss. His movements are slow and hesitant, like if you move too quickly he’ll get frightened and bolt. But gradually you settle into a kind of rhythm, tidying things up together and you can’t resist asking him about the party. It had been for his sake, after all.

“Did you have fun?” You ask. Taehyung jumps from where he’d been gently working the sponge into a lather and a clang rings through the kitchen. The silence seems more pressing after the loudness of your party. 

“Um... it was good.” He says, though his voice is a little high and squeaky. “I had a lot of fun- your friends seem nice.”

“It’s not really a family dinner.” You admit sheepishly. He pauses and offers you a smile, and the pleasant expression on his face seems to thaw through the lingering ice in the room. 

“No, don’t be silly.” He tells you. “It was everything I could have hoped for. Except for Jin’s interpretative dance to Santa baby. I feel like I could have gone without that.”

You laugh and shake your head, stepping in close to pluck plates off the drying rack and drying them off. 

“This was nothing. Wait till lizzo comes on and then you’ll see peak Seokjin.” You sigh. But then your expression changes and you offer Taehyung a smile. His eyes drop for just a fraction of a second, so quick you think you’ve imagined it, before raising quickly back to your eyes. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

He nods, and hums, still making his way through the pile of dirty dishes. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You pause to think about it. The laughter of your friends, the silly Christmas carols, the snap of Christmas bonbons.... you did. You really, truly enjoyed yourself in a way you didn’t think you could and it’s thanks to the man before you. The man who patiently waited for you to come home each evening to eat dinner with you, and who dragged you across the city to places he thought you’d enjoy... he’s truly a magical person. 

“I really did. It’s gotten me so excited for the rest of the year, to be honest. Are there any other Christmas traditions we can do? Christmas is almost here, but what about New Year’s? We could do something fun then too.” You suggest. Suddenly the season seems so bright and exciting, and the fact that there’s a whole week and a half left to December leaves you unbelievably excited. 

Taehyung pauses from where he scrapes at a stubborn crumb on your baking tray. 

“What?” He asks, and his voice goes strangely soft, and tentative. You blink- something about his tone makes you uneasy. 

“For after Christmas.” You clarify. “You’ve already got Christmas planned out for us, right? So I can plan something for New Year’s. Return the favour.”

By now, Taehyung has completely stopped cleaning. He doesn’t look at you, and stares straight ahead. 

“There... there isn’t an “after Christmas”, (Y/N).” He confesses. Your heart drops into your stomach. He turns to face you, and for once, his eyes aren’t bright, and filled with joy. They’re dark and miserable. 

“What?” You breathe, trying to speak past the sudden shattering sensation in your chest. “Why... why not?”

“I’m a Christmas Spirit.” He reminds you. “I bring Christmas Cheer and then I go back in a box for the rest of the year.”

You blink- you feel like you aren’t hearing him right, or just not comprehending things. 

“Why? I can just not put you away. Why can’t there be an “after Christmas”?” You urge. You step in close, fighting past the sudden panic in your chest. “How could I just put you back in a box for the rest of the year? That’s crazy! Just, don’t go in the box.”

“It’s not that simple.” He protests. “There are rules, (Y/N). I can’t just ignore them. My job is to make you happy during Christmas and then that’s it. That’s what I was born and raised to do. That’s what I spent 25 years waiting for.”

Your eyes widen.

“But surely there’s another way? Surely you don’t want to be in the box.” You cry. You step in close and grab his hand, pulling it towards you pleadingly. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” He says, and there’s a resigned note of finality to his tone. “After Christmas, that’s it. I lose the strength to turn into a human. You can keep my out of the box, but it doesn’t make a difference. It ends on Christmas night.”

That makes you fall silent as you finally learn the full truth. You’d been so busy having fun that you hadn’t thought about what comes next. You’d stupidly let yourself believe that you could just keep having fun with Taehyung. You hadn’t thought about the logistics or the long term of it. You feel like you’ve been slapped. 

Christmas has an end date. 

Taehyung spots the tears forming in the corners of your eyes before you do, and his expression softens at the sight. 

“It’s not fair.” You rasp. Somehow, he manages to pull a smile from somewhere, though it’s tinged with a deep sadness that makes more tears spill forth. He steps in close and pulls your face into his chest. 

“I know.” He soothes. “It is. It’s unfair. I want to... I want to stay. But I can’t.” 

You can’t keep your composure after that, and the sobs come in in full force. 

“I wanted to keep having fun with you.” You bawl, and he just shushes you with a tighter hug. 

“I did too.” He confesses. “But it just means we have to have even more fun until Christmas. Can you do that for me, (Y/N)?” He breaks the hug so that he can gaze into your eyes, smoothing the tears from your cheeks. “Please.” He begs. And you see the way his own eyes are red and moist. 

You want to tell him you absolutely cannot. That if he’s going to make Christmas fun and then leave you at the end, he can leave right now. Before you fall even harder. Before it’s too hard to say goodbye. 

But you’re a fool. A masochistic, lovestruck, weak fool. You can’t look into his eyes and tell him no. Not when you know what this means to him; you can’t take away his first Christmas for selfish reason. 

“Ok.” You finally rasp. “I’ll do it.”

You’re walking off a cliff face with your eyes wide open.

For once Taehyung’s smile isn’t enough to comfort you.

++

Christmas day dawns cold and subdued. The days following dinner had been warm, but quiet. Reserved. Like you both knew a goodbye was coming and didn’t want to acknowledge it. You spend one night curled up in your car at an outdoor theatre, laughing along to some silly Christmas comedy, and another day is spent going bobsledding. You both go through the motions of merriment, but it’s clear that neither of your hearts are in it. It’s hard to be enthusiastic and merry when each precious moment that passes is one step closer to when he turns back into a scarecrow. 

When you step out in the kitchen, Taehyung is making breakfast already. He sees you and smiles. 

“Good morning.” He calls. “Merry Christmas.”

It triggers a pang in your chest as his words confirm that this is truly your last day with him. 

“Merry Christmas.” You yawn, attempting to conceal the way your heart aches by settling into a chair at your table. 

Taehyung scurries over, a plate in each hand. 

“Breakfast is ready.” He declares. He’s gotten quite creative in his cooking- he can now manage a fairly decent semi-scrambled omelette and his bacon is surprisingly crispy. You’re eager to see what he has prepared for Christmas Day.

When he sets it down in front of you, however, you glimpse the Santa pancakes he made that first day. Your face falls. Two familiar blueberry eyes stare dolefully up at you and even the banana smile seems less curved and cheerful. It’s clear Taehyung had been a little distracted making them, because they’re not as carefully put together as that first meal. But the sentiment behind them still stands; that Taehyung cooks for you. He likes seeing you smile and he goes to absurd lengths to get you to enjoy yourself and he has for the entire month of December. He’s come to mean so much to you in such a short span of time- somehow he’s made a season that previously only meant cold and misery become a time of warmth and laughter. And now you have to say goodbye, before you’ve even started. There’s so many adventures the two of you could go on together, and yet you don’t get to. It’s so cruel. You’re alarmed when the tears come, unbidden. 

Taehyung watches the expressions play out across your face, before wordlessly reaching out with the sleeve of his sweater to wipe the tears that fall away. His touch is gentle and his expression somber. He hasn’t even donned his usual Santa’s hat.

“I’m sorry.” You say, in a small voice. “I know I said I wouldn’t cry.”

He shakes his head and smiles, pulling his chair up so that it’s seated as close as possible to you. 

“It’s ok. Just means I have to work a little harder. I wanna see that pretty smile, before I go.” He reassures you. You sniff and scrub at your eyes before staring determinedly at your pancakes. 

“Ok.” You say. “Let’s do this, then.”

Taehyung searches your expression, and you’re not sure what he sees there, but it seems to satisfy him. You feel that the last few days, his smiles had been duller and decidedly less genuine, but this time he hits you with the full force of his dazzling smile.

“First things first, we have to open presents!” He cheers. You frown. 

“But I don’t have any presents-“ you protest, but Taehyung cuts you off with a sharp rush of air through his teeth. 

“Then what’s that?” He questions innocently, gesturing to your ratty Christmas tree. 

And sure enough, beneath it is laden with presents. You stare at it for a long time. 

“I didn’t get you anything.” You finally admit. Taehyung laughs. 

“You enjoying my gifts is the present.” He says dismissively, before crowding you towards the tree. “Anyway, it’s a universal Christmas tradition to open your presents after breakfast, and I have failed you as a Christmas Spirit if we don’t do that.”

He slides the first gift towards you and eyes you coyly. “Open this one first.” He urges you. 

They’re all small gifts, relatively inexpensive. You’re not expecting Swarovski crystals from Taehyung considering he’s an unemployed Christmas Spirit. But each gift is thoughtful and sweet and bought specifically with you and your tastes in mind. By the time you open the last of the presents, you’re fighting off tears again.

“I didn’t get you anything.” You lament, sniffling slightly as you set the last gift aside. Taehyung’s eyebrows wrinkle together and his mouth pulls into a pout. 

“I already told you. Just being here is a gift for me.” He insists. “Besides, it’s not like I can use anything you give me for eleven months.”

That causes you to fall silent. You bite your lip as you look away. You had been determined not to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but you can’t do it. You can’t spend the day pretending you’re not on the verge of tears.

“I know I said I wouldn’t. But I can’t keep pretending this isn’t going to happen, Tae.” You say, and when he looks at you, you know it’s the first chink in his armour. He’s held it together considerably better than you, and you’d thought maybe it just didn’t bother him. After all, you were the one with feelings, not him. “At least... you can answer questions, right? If I know more, maybe it will hurt less.”

But looking at him now, you realise that he’s been fighting to stay composed to. 

“What do you want to know?” He finally says, and he’s quiet. Defeated. So unlike the optimistic, cheerful being you’d come to adore. 

“Are you trapped? Will it be be uncomfortable?” You question. “Can you still hear me? Will you... will you be lonely?”

“Not exactly.” He reassures you. “I look like a human but I’m also a glorified Christmas ornament. Time and events are different when I’m a scarecrow. It’s hard to explain.... but it’s not so bad. It’s just... how I am. I’m waiting, but I’m not trapped.” He explains vaguely. “I can hear and see what’s going on, but I just process things differently. Time just... feels different.”

You nod, a little comforted that at least you’re not sending your friend to be trapped in a prison of his own body for eleven months.  

“Am I meant to pass you on to someone else?” You ask. “Or do I keep you here?”

“I guess...” He looks uncertain, and tentative. “I guess it depends how your year goes. Eleven months...” his voice cracks and he clears it awkwardly to hide it. “It’s a long time. You can keep me here, and I’ll see you next December, if you need a little extra help enjoying the season... or you can pass me on to someone else if you don’t need me anymore.”

He’s right. Eleven months is such a long time. Long enough to forget Taehyung and his bright smile and cheery disposition. Long enough to spend next Christmas with your family and pretend like things are ok between you. Long enough... long enough to forget just how much your heart aches today, and fool yourself into doing the exact same thing next year. 

“What do you want?” You finally settle on. It’s the last question of the interrogation. After this, you can pretend everything is ok. You can go on like nothing’s wrong. 

Taehyung’s eyes go wide. He points at himself, bewildered by your question. 

“What do... I want?” He echoes, as if he’s never heard the words before. You nod. 

“I want you to spend Christmas happy.” You confess. “So where do you want to be, next Christmas?”

He’s quiet for so long you’re worried that his brain has stopped functioning or that his weird Christmas Spirit voodoo has kicked in. But when he finally looks at you again, his eyes shine with so much emotion that your heart aches in your chest at the sight. 

“I want to be here.” He finally says. “I want to spend Christmas with you again. There’s so many things we still didn’t get to try, and I want to do them all.”

Your throat goes tight, because yet again, you’re signing yourself up for heartbreak. If you do this, you’re the only one who will be hurt. Pining alone for most of the year for a season you used to hate. The irony of the situation is not lost on you.

But you’re helpless to him, to his smile and his sweetness and his warmth, and you can’t say goodbye. 

“Ok.” You agree. “Then you’ll stay with me. Now let’s have some fun.”

++

The day must inevitably draw to a close. Though you and Taehyung linger at every activity, attempting to draw out each moment, the point in the day comes where the two of you are back at the apartment, with the time drawing closer and closer to midnight.

You unlock your apartment door with trembling fingers and inhale a shaking breath. You glance over your shoulder at Taehyung. He’s a broad-shouldered person, tall and imposing were it not for the warmth of his eyes and his puppy-like demeanour and normally he just seems larger than life. But in that moment, he’s so small and uncertain. 

There’s so much you could say. You could plead with him; try and see if there’s a way to bargain out of the inevitable goodbye. Or you could thank him, from the bottom of your heart, for the first enjoyable Christmas you’ve had in your entire life. Crying feels like a viable option too, or getting angry. Your heart can’t seem to settle on a response and so instead it’s settled on numbness. Like it’s cold, lifeless hunk of metal rattling around in your ribcage.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Is what you finally settle on. He stares searching at your expression, before nodding to himself and squaring his shoulders

“Yeah. That sounds fun. I’ll make us some hot chocolate as well.” He says, stepping past you into the foyer. 

You eventually settle on watching the Polar Express. When you sit on the couch, Taehyung sits far too close and tugs a blanket over both your laps. He hands you a mug of hot chocolate and the two of you settle into a peaceful quiet, opposite from the laughter and activity of the daytime. The evening melancholy seems to have settled in. The whole movie, you don’t really pay attention, instead trying not to think about the way the clock on the wall seems to be moving quickly. 

“(Y/N).” You’re startled when Taehyung calls your name. It’s out of the blue, and you hadn’t noticed the way he’s steadily edged closer until the words are said almost directly into your ear. You’d been watching the clock instead of the movie, and you think for a moment that he intends to reprimand you. You turn to look at him and the proximity startles the breath out of you. “It’s almost midnight.” He tells you, as if you haven’t been glaring the clock down for most of the night. 

It’s true, though- the minute hand is edging closer and closer to the dreaded twelve. It makes you realise that he’s been eyeing the clock as well. 

“So it is.” You acknowledge, and he’s so close that his breath skates against the skin of your cheeks, staring at you with an intensity you don’t understand.

“Did I... Did I do a good job?” He asks you. You press your lips together; in a way he did. You think you may have smiled in this month alone more than you have the entire year. But you also know that the rest of the year will now pale in comparison; the rest of winter will leech by, depressingly dreary, and summer will come and go in muddy heat. The year will both inch and speed by and that whole time you will have the special month of December in mind. The times you spent with Taehyung. 

“You did.” You finally say. “I... Christmas was always so lonely and miserable to me. Where we tried to pretend that things were ok and merry and it would just dissolve into screaming matches. But with you, it wasn’t. You helped me make it into something warm, and beautiful. And even though...” your voice cracks, and it takes you a moment to reclaim your composure. “Even though the ending will be lonely and sad, you gave me all these wonderful memories. I’ll hear a Christmas carol and think of you from now on, Taehyung.” 

When you finally gain the courage to meet his gaze, you’re startled to find tears pouring down his cheeks. He’s been sad and a little misty-eyed ever since he admitted he wouldn’t be around after Christmas, but he’s also been frustratingly composed. 

But in that moment, he’s anything but. He looks devastated as he brings his hands up to press into his eyes in a vain attempt to stem the flow of tears.

“I’m sorry.” He gasps. “I tried so hard but... I never imagined Christmas would be like this. I was only supposed to make you smile and then go back to being a scarecrow and that should have been enough but it’s not.”

He’s full on sobbing now, and you can only stare in bewilderment as tears form in your own eyes. 

“I want to spend New Year’s Eve with you, and start the New Year together. I want to see you on your birthday. I want to see you on happy days and sad days. I want to...” he rubs his eyes clear and stares straight at you. “I want to make you smile the whole year.” He confesses. 

And that’s when your phone goes off. You’d set an alarm, earlier in the morning, so that you’d know the exact moment midnight hit. You glance away, for just a moment, dread hitting you full force like a sledgehammer. 

And when you turn back, it’s too late. The familiar little scarecrow stares up at you from the couch, where Taehyung had been seated just moments before. 

And you finally let yourself break down at the sight of the familiar button eyes.

And just like that, Christmas is over. 

++

“Why does your apartment smell like someone’s been dumped?” Jin sniffs as he steps through the threshold of your home, uninvited as usual. You’re not sure how he got in, but he probably had a copy of your key made somehow without you noticing. He’s prone to doing invasive things like that.

“Being dumped doesn’t have a smell.” You snap, from where you had been curled up on the couch under a mound of blankets. 

“Yes it does.” He insists. “It smells like...” he pauses to take one long, obnoxious sniff to the air before wrinkling his nose. “B.O. and cheetos.” He recites. 

You sigh, still not bothering to shift from your blanket nest. You’d been expecting his visit, to be honest. It’s the day before New Year’s Eve and you haven’t responded to his annual New Year’s Eve Bash invite. He’s very intense about RSVPs.

“What do you want, Jin?” You ask. He picks his way delicately towards you, navigating his way through your semi-dissembled Christmas tree before settling before you in a crouch. You’d made it part-way through the post-Christmas clean up before you’d been too upset to continue.

“Well, you aren’t answering my texts or calls. Zero activity on social media, no RSVP to my party... So I thought I’d make sure you hadn’t choked on a piece of tinsel.” He looks around your apartment with distaste. “I’m actually not sure if I’m relieved that you’re ok if this is what “ok” looks like.”

You ignore him, choosing to focus your attention back to Netflix. His expression softens, just a fraction.

“Tell me what’s going on, (Y/N). And where’s.. where’s Taehyung?” He questions tentatively. 

You’re unable to conceal the way your shoulders stiffen, just slightly, at the mention of his name. You’ve been doing your best in the five days since Christmas to bounce back and return to normal life, but you can’t seem to. It’s easier to lounge around on the couch than to muster up the emotional energy to pretend you’re ok. You’ve spent too long pretending you’re ok. There isn’t a single drop of you left that can even try to do so. 

“He had to go.” You say, hating the way your voice goes abruptly raw with tears. Jin’s eyes widen just slightly, and he shuffles closer. 

“What do you mean he had to go? He’s-“ As he said the words, his eyes had been darting wildly around the apartment, but he abruptly cuts himself off when he spots the scarecrow on your mantle. “Why is Taehyung...” he begins, before his gaze flickers to you. 

“Oh.” He exclaims simply, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, (Y/N).” He says, his voice filled with sympathy and sadness on your behalf.

You’re surprised when Jin engulfs you in a hug. You’ve never had that sort of friendship- he prefers to show his love by nagging you. But it’s weirdly comforting and you melt into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t RSVP.” You say glumly. “I didn’t feel like celebrating.”

Jin pulls away and scrutinises your expression. 

“Forgive me if it seems probing, but I don’t understand what happened. You guys seemed like you were going great at dinner the other night.” He says. “Why... why didn’t you use his wish?”

You pull back and blink at him in confusion. 

“His... wish?” You echo. Jin nods. 

“All Christmas Spirit receive one wish for their entire career. It was instituted recently, though, maybe only in the last twenty years or so, so maybe Taehyung didn’t know about it?” Jin wonders. 

Your eyes widen. 

“Christmas Spirit?” You splutter. “You mean you knew?”

For someone who’s dropping a bombshell, Jin looks remarkably deadpan. 

“Of course I knew. You think I wouldn’t notice a Christmas Spirit living in my store for five years?” He questions you with exasperation. 

You stare at him incredulously. 

“And you never thought, just once, that it would be a good idea to tell me what I was bringing home?” You demand. He rolls his eyes. 

“Oh please. Like you would have believed me.” He says dismissively. “Little Miss Grinch, hates Christmas, told her weird Christmas Scarecrow is actually a special Christmas Spirit? I’m a simple man, (Y/N). I see an opportunity for a great Hallmark movie, I take it.”

You stare at him in rage, and then something occurs to you. 

“That’s why you never came when I texted you that night! You knew it was Taehyung!” You realise in horror. “What if you had been wrong?”

At least he has enough sense of propriety to look sheepish. 

“Taehyung would have helped you if I was wrong.” He offers meekly. The change in pace of conversation has you deflating. 

“If you knew... why did you let him go home with me? I could have spent Christmas at home, alone, and not be dealing with any of this.” You confess, and Jin softens just a little bit. 

“Well, because I didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone.” He admits. “Every year, you’re so miserable. And I thought Taehyung could change that. And honestly, I didn’t think it would end up like this and even if I did, I thought Taehyung would use his wish.”

“What wish?” You ask. Jin shrugs. 

“Every Christmas Spirit gets one wish throughout their career. Usually it ends up being that they become human, but I know of some who have wished for other things.” He admits. You brows knit together as you gaze at your friend. Where is all this knowledge coming from?

“Jin... just who are you?” You ask hesitantly. He smiles awkwardly and rubs at the back of his neck.

“I’m Jin. The same Jin you’ve known for years. But before that, I was a little Christmas bear who spent years trying to make people happy on Christmas day.” He admits. “And one year... I’d had enough. So I wished that I could be human. And here I am today.” He smiles at you. “And it’s not too late. Taehyung can still do the same.” He glances over at your mantle, where the motionless Christmas Scarecrow sits. “Anyway, I have to get going. I was just coming to make sure you were alive.” He gets up and dusts off his pants. “Maybe give the apartment a clean, and then you can sit down and have a nice, long chat with that scarecrow over there.” 

He makes to leave, but can’t resist tossing one last comment over his shoulder. 

“I’m just going to assume you’re bringing a plus one. I’ll change your response to “going” on the fb invite.” 

++

One clean apartment later, you stand before your mantle, gazing into the button eyes of the scarecrow. It’s weird to know that behind them, Taehyung watches you. What is he thinking? Is he sad? Lonely? Trapped? Is he listening? 

You’re strangely nervous. Taehyung had told you that he’d wanted to spend the rest of the year with you, but maybe he changed his mind. Maybe watching you lounge around your apartment the past five days made him realise how lame you are. And if he only gets one wish in his entire career, why would he waste it now? He’s only had one Christmas to live out his purpose as a Christmas Spirit- maybe he’s not ready to give it up yet. Maybe you’re asking too much of him. It’s only been a month; to ask him to become human and face the horrors of the human world is maybe the cruelest thing you could do.

But your heart yearns, and ultimately that it what gives you the courage to begin speaking. 

“I... don’t know how much you heard of what Jin said earlier.” You admit. “He pretty loud so you probably heard at least some of it. But the basic gist... is that you get a wish. Only one wish, so once you use it, that’s it. So, you have to use it wisely.”

You look away and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“And, I understand if you want to save it. You’ve only just started out and maybe you want more time. But I was thinking... if all that stuff you said before is true... Maybe you can use it now. To be a human.” You inhale shakily. The offer is out in the open now. 

The scarecrow doesn’t move. 

“I mean, maybe you didn’t. That’s ok. I’ll be ok if you don’t actually want to spend the rest of the year with me. It’s a lot to ask when it’s only been a month. But I want to.” You squint and you feel the hot prick of tears forming at the corner of your eyes. “This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I’ve never smiled so much before, and so easily. Something about you makes it so easy. And I was never brave enough to say it, but I like your smile too. I like it so much. It’s ridiculous that you can say my smile is lovely when you can look in the mirror and see what your smile looks like. And I... I don’t want to only get to see it on Christmas. I don’t want to spend eleven months waiting for you but the ridiculous part is that I will.” You admit. “I’ll just keep comparing things to the time I spent with you. I’ll spend eleven months of the year waiting for you’re smile. And that’s because... I really like you, Tae. So much- no, too much. I like you too much.” You’re full on crying at this point. “So please. Spend it on me. Wish to be a human. Wish to be here the rest of the year.”

You fall silent, and still, the scarecrow stares at you. Unmoving, unchanging. 

You smile helplessly, before scrubbing at your eyes. He doesn’t want to use his wish. That’s ok. He doesn’t have to. It was stupid of you to think that he would.

You sniffle and open your eyes.

Only to be engulfed by two arms around your body.  

“I like you too much as well.” Taehyung gasps. It takes you a moment to process- your face is smushed into his chest and his arms hold you securely. “I didn’t know about the wish. But... I want to keep spending time with you. I’d have spent it on you a hundred times over if I’d known.”

You go to pull away so that you can see his face, but he doesn’t give you the chance to because his lips are meeting yours. 

It’s a sweet kiss but also a little clumsy and eager. Like he’s worried time is running out. 

Gradually, the urgency fades and he pulls away. At this proximity, you can see the way his lashes frame his bright eyes, and the way his eyes crinkle into little tiny half moons. It’s a little surreal, being able to gaze upon him so freely when just last week you’d been prepared for a goodbye. 

“So... you’re a human now? You get to stay?” You ask. He pulls back and squints at himself. 

“I guess so. I can’t seem to turn back into a scarecrow so I guess... that I’m human now.” He says.

You kiss him again, after that. It’s soft and sweet and perfect. When you pull away, his eyes are hazy and his expression is unfocused. He looks adorably dishevelled and distracted, and then he offers you that smile, the one that makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. His fingers come up to delicately trail over the paths of your face, like he’s trying to memorise what you look like. 

“You’re smiling.” He breathes, his tone filled with wonder. His thumb comes up to reverently trace the curve of your lips. “It was your smile.” He confesses. You blink up at him in confusion and he chuckles in response. “It threw me off guard. At the ornament store. Up until that point I’d been so nervous whether I was in over my head with the whole Christmas spirit thing. And then you smiled at me and it wasn’t even because of anything I’d even done and suddenly I wanted to keep that smile on your face.” 

You flush, a bit flustered by his admission, but he isn’t finished, apparently. 

“It’s so pretty. You’re pretty.” He insists. “When you kissed me under the mistletoe I thought my heart was going to burst and then I remembered what I was. That I’m a Christmas Spirit and that I don’t get to do this. I get your smile at Christmas and then that’s it.” He smiles self-deprecatingly at himself before it shifts into something warmer, and fonder. “But now... now...” he trails away, too emotional to continue and he settles for pulling you into another tight embrace, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. All you can smell is that comforting scent of peppermint and cinnamon, and you melt. “Now I get your smiles the rest of the year too. I can’t wait to spend the rest of the year with you.” He confesses, a soft, whispered confession into the warm crook of your neck. 

And there’s lots to do, and things you need to work out now that Taehyung is by your side as a human. Your relationship with your parents isn’t fixed, and he doesn’t have a job or a source of income, and there’s still some remaining Christmas decorations that need to be placed in storage. 

But that’s ok. You’ll both work all that out together eventually. After all, you have the rest of the year to do so.

[imagines-r-s]

sticking it - j. farabee

chapter 1

a/n: ok, this chapter is very dialogue heavy lmao, but yolo. (feedback is always welcome, feel free to send asks about the series, i would absolutely love to talk about it.) i’m also kinda debating to have a ‘sticking it’ blurb night sometime soon?? anyways i hope you all enjoy this one 

taglist: @butgilinsky @barbienoturbby @sunsetholland @lovenhlboys @sortagaysortahigh @hockey-racing-fubol @oopsiedoopsie23​ (if you want to be added, just send me an ask)

warnings: uh, kathryn? that can be considered a warning i think, swearing, i think that’s it? if i missed anything lmk 

sticking it masterlist

wc: 3.2k

(gif not mine)

“You want me to go where with you?” Joel asked the group in front of him.

“My cousin has a gymnastics meet and we were wondering if you wanted to go with us tonight after practice?” Kevin repeated for the third time. 

“Dude, you have to come. These things are surprisingly super fun, it’s not hockey and there’s no physical fighting, but it’s still pretty cool,” Travis said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Are you guys going to keep asking until I say yes?” to which Kevin, Nolan, and TK all nodded their heads. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Ok, sweet. Karly is planning on coming, too, so I’ll just meet you guys there,” Travis interjected as he grabbed his practice bag. 

“We’ll pick you up around 4:30, we have to get there early since Pat has to give his pep talk, all traditional stuff, yada, yada, yada,” Kevin said. 

“Yeah, okay, just let me know when you’re on your way,” Joel said as the two of them went to their cars. 

…..

“y/n, I don’t understand why you’re still worried, your knee will be fine,” Nicole reassured you as the two of you walked into the arena, “Adrian already said you’ve been out for long enough and he’s waiting to hear news of the y/n y/l/n revenge tour, you can’t let him down, dude.”

You rolled your eyes, “well, Adrian can suck it up, he’ll be fine.”

“Ok, that’s how you want to be, then tell Marcus and Michelle that you’re scratching every event today. It’s fine by me, you’re my competition, but good luck petitioning onto the Olympic team after that,” Nicole said, walking ahead of you towards the locker rooms to get dressed. 

“Wait, Nic, stop,” you quickly followed after her, “Your reverse psychology isn’t going to work on me, but I’m not scratching every event.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, babes, you have to realize you’re going to be okay and getting in your head about it will only push you back ten steps. And I missed having actual competition,” Nicole caught the small smile on your face in the mirror, “ok, we honestly have to get ready if we want to have time in the tunnels before we compete.” 

Grabbing your garment bag that held your competition leo and warm-ups in, you started to get ready. Quickly getting your leo on, you took note of how beautiful the new leo was. A navy blue, long sleeve leo with mesh sleeves and rhinestone decals or as Michelle always called it ‘all blinged out’. Once you put on your warm up pants, you did a light makeup look that was pretty much just eye shadow and mascara and then pulled your hair up in a tight, but simple messy bun. 

“Are your boys coming tonight?” Nicole asked, meeting you by the door of the locker room. “Yeah, you know Kevin wouldn’t miss it, but I don’t know if anyone else is coming,” you replied. 

“Oh, well Nolan better be here, you need your pep talk,” Nicole added which made you laugh, “okay, well I’m going to let you do your pre-warm up-warm up and I’ll see you out there soon. You got this, babes.” 

Once you saw Nicole leave the tunnel, you immediately put your headphones in and started listening to one of the hype playlist that Nolan had put together for you. You went through visualizing your routines, visualizing the perfect motions, tumbling, and skills. You were stretching your legs out when you heard a familiar laugh sound from one side of the hallway, turning you saw Karly, TK, Nolan, Kev, and then beside them, Joel Farabee. 

You had never met him personally, but you had seen him play enough times to know who he was. He was also usually included in game highlights if you missed a game, so you were well aware how significant he was to the team. 

You stood up quickly and made your way over to them, “Karly, omg, I’ve missed you, babes. Tiki Bar, I’m still planning on stealing your girlfriend, just so you know.”

“You really have your priorities in order, don’t you, y/n/n?” Travis said.

“I like to think so. Hey, Kev, thank you for bringing your friends along for the y/n y/l/n revenge tour.”

“Dude, you didn’t mention this tour?” Nolan questioned. 

“Oh, well Adrian said this is my comeback meet, so it’s a revenge tour to show how cool I am,” when you got a nod in response from Nolan, you looked over to Joel who stood awkwardly beside him, “Farabee, do you talk or just stand awkwardly 24/7?”

When he heard you say his name, his eyebrows rose in surprise, “how come you know me, but I don’t know you?”

“Well, you see, I actually talk to people instead of just standing off to the side awkwardly. Plus, you’re literally Kev’s teammate, so it would be bad if I didn’t realize who you were.”

“I feel like you’re just upset I wasn’t talking to you, babe,” Joel added. 

“Awe, yes, of course. The pain in my heart from not talking to you is unbearable, thank you for sparing a few words,” you said sarcastically, placing your hand over your heart.

“Ok, children, that’s enough of that for today. We just came to wish you good luck, we’re going to go wait outside the tunnel so that way you can get your pep talk as usual. Now, c’mon, Beezer,” Kevin pushed Joel out of the way and towards the exit before he could say anything else. 

“Are we skipping over that for right now or?” Nolan asked as you walked back to where you were standing by the wall before they came over. When he got a simple nod in response he let out a simple ok, “what event are you starting on?”

“Floor. I’m pretty sure at least.”

“Ok, what’s the worst thing about the floor for you right now?” and the two of you talked about each event like you did every competition. Nolan doing his best to make sure that you talked out everything that was on your mind. Giving you a quick hug and a quick you got this, he made his way back towards his seat. You made your way back to get your warm up jacket from the locker room and went to find Marcus. 

By the time Nolan had made it back to his seat, the announcement that warm up and stretching would start now went off. “Ok, I genuinely thought the only people that did gymnastics were like 10 year olds,” Joel said. 

“10 year olds doing gymnastics is honestly a really boring thing to watch. Like when y/n was 10, I hated going to her meets. She was good, yeah, but it was boring and all of them had the same routines. 0/10 would not recommend,” Kevin added. 

“Are we all just ignoring whatever the fuck happened when y/n/n met Joel? Or was I the only one that noticed?” Nolan was shocked by the fact that no one had mentioned it. When the group went quiet for a moment, the only thing that could be heard was Karly holding back a laugh. “Care to share with the class, Karly?”

“Nope. I want to see how this one plays out before I make any comments,” to which the whole group looked at her confused. “It’s a developing story. It has to develop, obviously.”

Once the national anthem was over, the first event that you had was floor. “y/n/n, I don’t care how you do today, I just need you to go for everything. You have it in you to get high scores anyways, so just focus on doing your skills,” Marcus said, “you just have to do this 1 minute and 30 second routine, land all your tumbling, do your jumps well, stay tight, and you got this.”

“Representing the United States of America, y/n y/l/n on floor,” the announcer read over the loudspeaker. 

“Alright Twinkle Toes, go have fun out there,” Marcus told you one last time before you made your way up to the floor. You stood there anxiously, awaiting the judges who were somehow never ready on time to salute you. Once they did salute you, you flashed your best smile and marched onto the floor, going to your beginning pose. 

The group up in the stands were anxiously awaiting for your music to start, which did include Kevin having to yell at Joel to put his phone up before you performed. All of them believed in you, but this was your first competition back and they weren’t sure how it would go. Would you be back to your old competition level? Better? Would you hurt your knee again? They knew the risks, but simply pushed it to the back of their head. 

Just stick the landings. Four tumbling passes. Three leap series. Two turns. And one score. You have worked your ass off to get back to where you are now; this was your comeback and if you started off great, you could only go up from there. Hearing the beep that signaled that the floor music was starting, the first few notes of ‘Feeling Good’ rang out and you started your routine. 

Starting off your routine with a small dance combo and some poses, you went straight in with two back to back tumbling passes. After the first tumbling pass, the tension in your body eased up. You were back in your element for the first time officially since your injury and you couldn’t have felt better. Right now you didn’t care what score you got, you were just happy to be back. You went for your leaps and jumps, then your final two tumbling passes. 

After finishing your routine in your end pose, you saluted the judges again and practically ran back to Marcus. “I did it, oh my god. I did that,” you weren’t in shock, but the realization finally hit you that you had officially had a great start to the comeback tour. “Yeah, we all knew you could, y/n/n. I’m not shocked,” Marcus hugged you. 

When the camera came around as results of your routine came back, you simply smiled and waved towards the camera as you listened to Marcus tell you the plan for the rest of the competition. When the score results came up, it showed that you were in first place. Everyone else had competed in one event already, so you knew it wasn’t just an accident. You were back. 

“Dude, are you crying?” TK nudged Kevin, who quickly wiped his tears. 

“No, but if I were, it’s a completely valid response to a time like this,” Kevin said quickly. 

What you hadn’t noticed from where you were was how much Joel had been watching you. Before your routine started, he couldn’t have been less interested, but once he saw you performing and the smile on your face after you finished your routine he was hooked. Everyone did take note of how much he was watching you, especially Karly. 

“And the story keeps developing,” she thought. 

With a good score on vault and on bars, you were still doing fine in the meet - it was you and Kathryn Davis for first and second, but this event would show who won all around. The only event that you had left was beam, you only hoped that your hesitation wasn’t as obvious as you felt. You obviously wouldn’t be doing the dismount, you were just going to do a double back that you had solid and weren’t afraid of doing. But even with that, you still had fears looming around a dismount you knew like the back of your hand. 

The fear that you had for beam was evident when you had a few too many wobbles - which made your score lower - luckily there were no falls, but it still affected your score. Even with a lower score you still beat Kathryn in All Around, but came third on beam. 

After awards and talks with media, you made your way back to the locker room to get your gym bag. “y/n, oh my god. Babes, you did amazing. I’m so proud of you,” Nicole came rushing in for a hug. 

“Thanks, Nic. I’m just glad to be back, winning was just a plus,” you said, smiling, “do you still plan on coming with me, Karly, and the guys if we go out to eat?” to which she simply nodded. The two of you made your way to the usual spot you met Kevin after a gymnastics meet. 

Eventually the group made their way over there, all of them quickly congratulating you. “y/n/n, I hope you know how proud I am of you right now,” Kevin said softly after hugging you, “you’ve come such a long way and you rocked it today.”

“KD is slowly approaching,” Nolan said. 

“y/n, omg, it was so cool competing against you. Sorry to have beat you on beam though, maybe if you tried your dismount you would have won,” she said, a fake smile on her face.

“Well, sweetie. You do know that’s just one event right? In everything else, I still beat you. Even when I hurt myself last year, I still somehow ended up with the gold, so you honestly have nothing to brag about,” you said, your fake smile matching hers.

“I see you brought your hockey players to help you out here, how nice of them.”

Everyone watched cautiously, Kevin ready to pull you back if he needed to; Nolan, TK, and Karly were all ready to jump in and help you fight; while Joel just stood there realizing how much he liked seeing you when you were mad. A lovely dynamic for today. 

“Hun, if anyone needs help, it’s you. Especially in the math department, apparently. But congrats on the one gold medal, you deserve it,” and with that you stepped away from her and towards the doors of the arena. 

Somehow Joel was the one that was walking closest to you, “hey, you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. She just annoys me a lot, nothing crazy,” you shrugged. 

“You did good today. It’s crazy what you can do out there honestly,” he said genuinely. 

“Awe, Farabee, that’s so sweet. ”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it, babe,” he said, slightly nudging you.

“Are you guys seeing this, too?” Karly asked the guys walking beside her, “like y/n and Bee? Or are your eyes not working today?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have introduced the two?” Kevin says looking back towards you two just as you trip Farabee, “yeah, maybe not the wisest decision?” 

“Haha, suck on that on-,” your sentence interrupted as he pulled your shin to where you ended up on the ground of the parking lot beside him, “that was uncalled for, Bee.” 

“No, it was perfectly reasonable, you were rude to me earlier, so it’s payback.” 

“What the fuck is she doing on the ground?” Nicole asked as she caught up to the group, confused by your and Joel’s actions, to which everyone around her simply shrugged. 

…..

“There she is, the gymnastics superstar. How was the first night of the ‘y/n y/l/n Revenge Tour?” Adrian asked as you entered his office. 

“Eh, same old, same old. You win some and you lose some, and then people are extremely petty about the fact that they lost, so they bring up a traumatic injury that you hardly ever talk about while making fun of you losing an event, yada, yada, yada,” you smiled. 

“Didn’t really know all that, but I’m proud of you,” Adrian led you over to sit on the bench, so that he could check your knee, “your knee looks- why is there a phone number written on your shin?” 

“Ohhh, haha. About that. I forgot to wash it off,” you said simply. 

“Girl, I know there is way more to that story that you aren’t sharing. C’mon spill.” 

“Ok, well basically. Kevin brought one of his teammates to the game, and there’s this kinda like tension that’s there, but it’s not. So, I kinda tripped him in the parking lot to show that I’m so in love with him and he tripped me back, then we all went out to eat. We’re basically engaged now, we’ve already bought a house and a dog,” you said in a monotone voice. 

“Ok, enough with the attitude, I just asked about the boy. So, what’s his name?”

“Joel Farabee.”

“What’s your specific nickname for him?” Adrian placed some athletic tape below your knee, just as precaution.

“Bee, but he doesn’t have a specific one from me yet, we aren’t that close,” you jokingly rolled your eyes, “no, but he couldn’t find a blank piece of paper, so he just wrote his number on my shin.”

“Did he not see your arm? And have you texted him yet?” Adrian asked as you started with your daily drills, rolling his eyes when he saw you shake your head, “look, he’s a hockey player. I have dealt with a few of those. 7/10, might recommend. They’re interesting individuals, that’s all I can say. But you have to text him.”

“Ok, well read me the number and I’ll text him,” opening your phone, you pulled up your texts, “wait, what the fuck do I say?”

“Well, there’s this word in the English language that works as a simple greeting when you don’t know what else to say. A three letter word, pretty simple.”

“Adrian. I don’t need the attitude today, this is stressful enough,” you quickly typed up the message and practically threw your phone across the room right after, “there, I did it.”

“Did you just throw your phone?”

“Yep, but I texted him,” you said, holding two thumbs up.

“I didn’t realize how much you doing gymnastics your whole life influenced your social skills. My deepest condolences to you,” the both of you looked over towards where you threw your phone when you heard a notification go off, “you better check that before I do.”

“Okay, fine,” quickly grabbing your phone, answering quickly to which he responded just as fast, “he simply asked if I was going to be at Kevin’s later and if I wanted coffee, so, are we done here?”

“Mhm, get your coffee. And I expect updates.” 

As you were on the drive home, your phone started buzzing continuously, you realized that it was just Nicole, “hey, babes. What’s up?” 

“Have you checked twitter? Or instagram? Or anything?”

“No? I’ve been at P.T, why?”

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say, so if you’re still in the car, I suggest pulling over for your own safety.”

You pulled into your apartment complex, “ok, I’m home. What’s up?”

“Just check Kathryn’s instagram, but apparently she’s been training her 3.5 dismount on beam for months and she has it now. She said she plans on competing it at the U.S. classic in May.” 

[masterhandss]

Hello! Uhm… there’s something I’ve been wondering about for a long time now regarding Nicol. And I figured I may as well ask now, since S2 has started airing.

I’ve seen his wiki page. And it says and I quote: It was later revealed that his emotionless face and quiet nature is a result of extreme trauma. From a young age, people of all genders and ages would tend to do absurd things, as well as assaulting him.

I’ve been so fixated on this probably since S1 had finished, yet I haven’t really had the time to read all the light novels to know where this specifically comes from or even be sure if it’s actually true. The only thing I managed to find was a scene (I think in one of the later volumes) about Katarina pointing out this creepy guy that took Nicol’s used utensils and stared at him a lot, but she didn’t do anything about it because Sophia saw nothing wrong with that guy’s behavior and told her it was okay.

I’m not sure if the wiki was referring to that scene, or something else. And since I know that you read the light novels, I was hoping if maybe you could check that info and confirm/deny it for me. If it is true… then it really puts a whole different perspective on Nicol. People in the series have been shown to faint if Nicol smiles, but it was also mentioned how he was one of the only second year students in the student council because people would fight over him.

And to think their behavior possibly had escalated to the point of traumatizing him as a child makes me very heartbroken to think about. Especially when the wiki also mentioned how he feels very uncomfortable when he’s the center of attention… makes me wonder if the anime will even touch upon any of that.

Hello! I'm sorry if answering this one took such a long time. This one definitely caught my interest so I wanted to take my time in writing a response for this.

// trigger warning: brief mentions of assault (nothing too graphic I swear)

I'm an editor for the wiki, so I admit that I have seen that description on Nicol's page too. I don't know who wrote it (and I never bothered to edit or adjust the wording), but that doesn't really matter since it's not exactly something I can deny.

Before that I just want to make it clear first that the "assault" mentioned in the wiki is probably not sexual or physical assault, it's likely referring to a simple assault, aka any unwanted advances that is done without consent. Whether or not any advances on Nicol while he was growing up were leaning towards sexual assault or physical assault (unwanted physical contact from men and women, sexual invitations, groping etc.) has not been mentioned by the books. It used to be a very popular headcanon for the more darker and realistic depictions of the hamefura or fortune lover world to give Nicol that kind of backstory, which is why I still feel like clarifying just in case anyone might get the wrong idea.

Hamefura is a very light-hearted series so I doubt it would put Nicol is such a tough dark position. While it's played for laughs, thankfully Nicol's beauty makes him so dazzling that people can't get close to him rather than being so handsome that people would try to initiate physical contact at every opportunity lmao.

Rather than the wiki pertaining to a specific scenes, I think it might be written in hindsight instead. It could very much be referring to the guy from Volume 6 who keeps staring at Nicol and stealing his uetnsils, but I feel like it could also be referring to the possibility/likeliness of such events and advances happening regularly. Like we don't really need to be told that men and woman throw themselves at Nicol for us to know about it. I mean if its frequent enough for Nicol to be unbothered by it, then it must happen a lot (as gross as that is). Regardless, those advances can still be classified as assault (since Nicol is not a fan of it at all) and the only reason he doesn't do anything about it is because it happens so often that it might be not worth the trouble anymore. At least we do know from the StoryMe hamefura game that Nicol will act in the face of an unfavorable position if he can, so hopefully he isn't just sitting around like an animal in the zoo if he were to receive unwanted advances.

I wouldn't deny that all of these interactions hadn't traumatized Nicol though. They never really mention in the books word-for-word why Nicol is so emotionally stunted/incapable and silent, they only really mention that he doesn't talk because he doesn't want to receive any unwarranted pity. In the first hamefura anthology (whose canonicity is up for debate), they do say there that the reason why Nicol doesn't talk a lot is because people would twist his words in order to turn it around and make him sound more tragic and pitiable than he actually is. I'm no expert on what is or what isn't considered as trauma, but that sounds like a source of trauma to me. The idea of Nicol being so fed up of people misinterpreting his words and expressions in order to fit what they want to hear must have been so hard on him, to the point where he decided to just not speak at all. It can be easily link to his emotionless-ness too, since any positive reaction like a smile could be twisted to mean other things.

Realistically, having people constantly fight over you, whisper things about you behind your back, constantly ogle at you and be constantly flirted on regardless of gender sounds terrible. If that was me I'd be traumatized too. He definitely hates being in the center of attention for all the reasons previously discussed and other well-known variables; he's always in the eyes of every noble around him which makes him hate being in the spotlight (from his perspective, maybe he always feels like the spotlight is on him, like it'll just never leave. he'll always bothered by the eyes of other people even maybe when he's at home... eyes watching him with desires and expectations, haunting him even when he's alone...). It really makes you think about what kind of life Nicol had been living in without Katarina's positive influence. He would have to bear the burden alone, without being able to say a word about it because he needs to act tough for the sake of Sophia.

Like geez, Nicol is even aware that he has stalkers but isn't doing anything about because "they aren't harmful". He never even really clarified what he meant by that (at least I don't remember anyways, feel free to correct me), like is he already doing something to stop the stalker, is it happening so often that he doesn't care anymore or is he fine with it because the stalker hasn't done anything dangerous (yet)???

If you want an /objective/ answer to whether or not the wiki description was referring to the stalker man from Volume 6 or something else, that line on the wiki was added on April 27, 2020; while the JP release of Volume 6 was on March 20, 2018 vs the EN ebook release which was on June 28, 2020.

The editor is likely a JP reader, or it was just an interpretation based most-likely what-if scenarios/interpretations. That's a fun fact for ya :DD

—and since you mentioned that you haven't read all the volumes of the light novels yet, let me help you by listing chapters in the books with a Nicol POV (that I can remember, as of Volume 9)

Volume 1 Chapter 5 (Encountering Katarina) Volume 2 Chapter 4 (Remembering Katarina's Positive Influence) Volume 3 Chapter 2 (School Festival Various Vignettes - Nicol Ascart) Volume 4 Extra Chapter (The Troubles of Nicol Ascart) Volume 5 Chapter 4 (A Lady for Nicol) Volume 8 Chapter 2 (Nicol's "dream")

With this, hopefully it'll be easier for you to cross-reference if you want to look into Nicol's character on your own :DD

TLDR; the trauma and assault mentioned in the wiki is definitely real, although the extent and severity might depend on the reader('s imagination). There's no particular scene to point to as the source, explanation or example of Nicol being given uncomfortable treatment, but it's not hard to imagine given the kind of character Nicol is. He is a silent beauty who caries himself smartly and politely, which in the eyes of many carnivorous nobles is the perfect kind of prey. Whether or not he was assaulted in any way or if people's behavior towards him can be considered as assault depends on the reader, since we still have yet to get a deep dive on Nicol's life outside of his friend group.

If there's any confirmation or deconfirmation to anything I said that I have missed during my skimming on the light novels, feel free to tell me! If I got the definitions and examples of trauma and assault wrong, feel free to tell me and I'll edit this post as fast as I can!

I know this might not exactly be the response you were hoping for, but I hope it was good enough to read qwq. There's so much I could still say but I know I'll go too deep into interpretation (I kinda already did though...), which I want to avoid since the question is asking for in-canon proofs and instances.

Thank you for the ask!