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pillow-anime-talk · 4 years ago

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daddy, please.

synopsis: “Hey, daddy. I have a little surprise for you.”

# tags: headcanons + scenarios; current relationships & crush culture & sponsorship; romance; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, daddy kink, size kink, lingerie, pet names & more

includes: female reader ft. rei amayado, hitoya amaguni & jakurai jinguji {hypmic}

author’s note: let’s fucking gooooo!!! here are my wet thoughts and dreams 😳🤚 don’t judge me, pls.

— REI

↘ You met each other at one night when Sasara took Rei and Rosho to a small but very nice bar on the outskirts of the city. Of course, the green-haired twenty-six-year-old praised the local alcohol and service earlier, so his two friends had no choice but to agree to a few drinks and many hours of talks about their group, work or other life difficulties.

↘ Then you appeared in front of three men as an extremely enchanting and full of smile barmaid; you charmed two new guests. Two, because you knew the leader of Dotsuitare Hompo for several days by served him the best and strongest alcohols and small starters. So now, everyone was delighted with you, which is why they showed up at your bar more and more. Rei himself was there practically every day, and you quickly got used to the presence of his deep voice, the same orders and nice, sometimes confident compliments or small gifts that were of unknown origin.

↘ You couldn’t hide that his person also interested you indescribably. He was so damn handsome, and literally no one of your age could compare to his extravagant outfits, silly smirk or the way he held a cigarette between his long fingers.

↘ And when one day he brushed a few stray hairs from your pretty face and tied them up with a golden hairpin – or rather another, new present for you – your cheeks were never as red as at that moment.

↘ Of course, he was much older than you, but it didn’t make you feel bad; how could you feel like this when Rei often walked you home or just asked about how you were doing in college and work? The fact that the bar was practically empty that evening resulted in an honest, lengthy conversation in which you admitted that you have a hard time trying to reconcile so many things at once. You didn’t want to be a ‘victim’, but you admitted that your parents rarely helped you, so you lived and supported yourself completely alone.

↘ Rei thought it was a good time to offer you some help; he asked if you would like to ‘work’ for him, so you could earn more while not overworking your body like you would when you were a barmaid or waitress. This proposition caught your interest, so you nodded, still ruddy on your both cheeks. Meanwhile, Rei took off his sunglasses, making eye contact with you; his orbs were more than mesmerizing.

↘ “... I’m a little old now and well... Wouldn’t you just like to come live with me and spend your free time with me? I must admit that having such a cute doll would be really worth coming home every night.”

↘ You would be an idiot if you didn’t agree to the offer of the man you liked from the first appearance at the bar, where he always ordered golden whiskey or bourbon.

↘ In addition, the gifts you got from him... were so wonderful and always suited your taste, so you were curious what else the older conman could give you.

↘ As it turned out, entering into this seemingly innocent relationship with the dark-haired one was the best thing you could have had.

*:･ﾟ✧*

Rei always came home around eleven at night, and you were always waiting for him patiently; sometimes with a good book in hand and sometimes with a glass of wine, relaxing in front of your favorite series or movie. On that day, however, you wanted to surprise him pleasantly and thank him for the last few weeks during which you lived as you never dreamed of before; after all, you could use his money and credit cards, his whole house, his cars, his everything without worrying about anything but your own studies, which you still attended.

Therefore, covered with a delicate, white bathrobe that showed through your lace lingerie, you waited for the arrival of your lover. You knew that he would bring you a gift as every day – a watch, new shoes, a bracelet or an invitation to the SPA, that’s why you wanted to pay him back this evening, obviously with your tiny, magnificent body marked with countless bites, bruises and colorful marks.

When you heard the sound of the key and the door opening, your legs tightened and you felt a feeling of uncertainty in your heart, but also of great exhilaration. You quickly got up from the black, leather couch and then moved towards the hall to greet the black-haired man. Your tender voice reached Rei’s ears, who turned to you with his signature smirk. However, seeing your current outfit, his facial expressions changed immediately. Still, this didn’t demotivate you before your next step.

“Hi, daddy, I’ve been waiting for you. Do you want to spend some time with me, please?” Looking innocently at him and flapping your eyelashes you instantly made his pants tight. A second later, he approached you, not caring about his favorite hat fell on the wooden floor.

“You look as beautiful as always, my pretty doll.” He said in a warm tone of voice, cupping your soft face with his big, right hand. His strong grip on your cheeks caused big and hot blush. “I didn’t expect you to call me that. It’s quite brave, don’t you think?”

“You don’t like it, daddy? Should I speak to you differently? By your first name or something else?”

“No. Of course that I like it. You don’t even know how much I like it, doll. I’m so fucking hard thanks to you, you know? So what are you going to do with it now, baby?” He asked, sticking his thumb in your wet mouth. You politely sucked his finger, still staring into his glowing with excitement eyes.

Your hand, in meantime, found a bulge on the white fabric, causing a low hiss from the forty-six-year-old.

“I want to make my daddy feel good, so... can I sit on you, daddy? I want your fat dick in my little pussy, daddy. I was polite, I swear by my little finger.”

Of course you were.

Rei had no doubts about it, so he willingly gave you everything you wished for tonight; all he wanted in return was for you to keep calling him by that lascivious phrase, because... well, well, well. It turned out that he had a huge kink for it.

— HITOYA

↘ Your first meeting was in a sense accidental, but at the same time it wasn’t something unusual or unimaginable; sooner or later you would meet your little brother’s two best friends, and that it happened faster than you thought, it’s just a funny twist of fate.

↘ Jyushi on that sunny day asked you to bring him lunch to the place indicated in the text message. Knowing that he would be as always spending time with the two men he often told you about, you decided to make dinner for all of them. So you prepared three large bentos filled with white rice, fried chicken, broccoli and in each plastic wrapper you put a small chocolate cupcake, because you baked a large amount of them the day before. You also got them something to drink, in this case it was iced, peach tea in a bottles. Ready, you could meet with your two years younger brother and his friends from the rap team.

↘ Kuko liked you right away. He had a lot of respect for you because you were a year older than him, but he was also eager to joke that you were completely unlike your siblings; you were much shorter, a little calmer and more open to new friends. You shrugged with amusement at this sentence, in meantime trying to calm your brother, who blushed furiously on both cheeks and the tips of his ears.

↘ On the other hand, Hitoya was watching you closely; maybe he did it because of his lawyer work, but he couldn’t hide the fact that it was nice to watch your gentle smile, your reddish face and how you took care of your brother and also of the second, younger than you teenager.

↘ Over time, the thirty-five-year-old noticed how tired you seemed to be because of working, studying, cleaning the house, making lunch or shopping. Of course, every time a man politely asked you if you were feeling well, you assured him that yes, you were fine and it was just bad weather or atmospheric pressure. But, oops. You couldn’t cover the bags under your eyes and pale skin with even the best cosmetics.

↘ “Let me take care of you, okay?” It was an innocent request that slowly turned into something more. Naturally, at first Hitoya just offered you mental support and money to pay fee for an apartment and shopping. But then, his hands started rubbing your tense back and more and more invisible traces of sweet kisses appeared on your forehead.

↘ You didn’t even notice when you started looking at a handsome lawyer as a potential partner, and when your heart was beating much faster when you had the opportunity to call him or read the messages he sent you.

↘ You confessed your feelings to him first because you couldn’t stand the rising warmth in your heart when an older man took you on his lap or when he brought home your favorite junk food and wine to celebrate your passed exams or his own, successful trials. He spoiled you so badly and thanks to this you finally felt appreciated and felt what you have been missing over the years, and it was a feeling of indescribable protection and loyalty.

↘ You wondered how you should thank for all of this because you had nothing to offer but yourself.

*:･ﾟ✧*

It was a stupid thought that had haunted you from the last week. Last Wednesday you read an erotic book in which the main, female character called her partner ‘master’ and it was something new for you, something very interesting. However, the word ‘master’ itself wasn’t as encouraging as ‘owner’ or ‘daddy’, which was definitely more suited to the delicate personality and sense of safety that Hitoya gave you from the beginning of your relationship. That’s why you’ve read a few articles on role-playing in bed, and you had to admit that the thought of calling your man ‘daddy’ made a strange feeling of warmth and wet between your legs. You had to take a few deep breaths when you ordered on Tuesday afternoon a pretty, slightly pink lingerie that your lover would definitely like.

Three days later, on Friday, when Hitoya was at work, you at the same time were preparing your whole body and mind for what should be coming around 8pm. You took a relaxing bath, you used a goat’s milk lotion, you loosened your muscles with one glass of dry red wine, and created a sensual playlist with songs that were more than perfect for night with your beloved one.

At twenty minutes past eight you heard the characteristic clatter of shoes in the hall, and your arms tensed slightly in anticipation of your lover; but still, you were still sitting politely on the bed. Your body was surrounded by a delicate lace, and you also hung a cute collar with a metal heart around your colorful neck. You heard Hitoya pacing around the kitchen, living room and bathroom, less than a quarter of an hour later the door to your enormous bedroom opened and you looked shyly at the man who stood with a brown towel wrapped around his thin waist. Seeing you, his left eyebrow lifted and a small smirk appeared on his front.

“Oi, oi?”

“Surprise?” You looked hesitantly into his light green eyes, and then your face flushed at the sight of the towel under which an huge erection began to form. “I... I just wanted to give you some joy as a thank you for what you do for me all the time... daddy.”

Hearing how sweet you pronounce the last word, your partner’s smile only widened. Slowly, but confidently, he moved towards the king sized bed, and as he sat down next to you, his hand was immediately on your smooth, pouty cheek.

“Just being here with me is joy enough for me, darling. But thank you for dressing up so gorgeous for me. Daddy is very, very happy.” You breathed a sigh of relief to hear that the two of you are playing the same game.

“So... could you please lie down, daddy?” You asked softly, and your loved one’s hand moved much lower to your waist, and then to your hot thigh as well. He squeezed the skin lightly and you sighed with satisfaction. “I... Umm...”

“I know you probably wanted to please me tonight, but... But when I look at you, my pretty one, I can’t let you do that. I prefer to take care of you, so will you let me do it?” The warm look that was sent to you from the older man made you jump slightly, nodding your head. “Good girl. Open your legs for your daddy, dear.”

— JAKURAI

↘ You started working in a hospital as part of extra-curricular activities at your university. You quickly liked all the staff, and your warm, even captivating personality added joy to everyone in the building; doctors, other nurses and patients, especially children who considered you ‘super onee-chan’. So Jakurai was no exception and was very eager to answer all your curious questions, as well as the gentle smiles you would send him whenever you passed each other in a bright hallway or doorway, when you finished or started work at the same time and shift.

↘ Sometimes he also helped you with the material for your classes, so that you would get even better grades and join the work in the hospital permanently.

↘ Jakurai liked you a lot, maybe a little more than ‘a lot’, because the fact was that he cared very much about your well-being and whether you were feeling well in the hospital, in your clothes, in your office. He has always asked you how your day or night has been, if you have anything to eat or drink, when you finish your work that day or if you are staying overtime, and even if you want him to walk you home or go with you to the store for shopping. You were totally and irreversibly charmed by it, but you didn’t think that something more would come out of your relation. So you continued to act as before, just thinking it was his natural behavior towards younger women.

↘ But then Jakurai tried to change your job position and you became his assistant who spent more time with him than before. So you talked even more lively and longer than normal, and sometimes after work, if you both had some free time, you would go for a walk to talk about something more peaceful and down-to-earth; about your favorite types of teas or coffees, about the countries you visited, about your favorite music, even about the worst alcoholic drinks you have had the opportunity to try in your lifetime.

↘ With the passing of time, you started going to your apartments on weekends to watch a random movie, cook dinner or bake a cake together. From time to time, if the weather was good, the thirty-five-years-old also took you to the lake and thus shared his passion for fishing with you. You felt really special with the thought that you were the only girl in his environment who could and was so close to him.

↘ The fact that he would sometimes buy you small gifts such as jewelry, science books, or pay for your shopping at the gallery was an added bonus of being able to feel like someone really, like really special to him.

↘ And at the same moment, you felt indescribably safe in his company – Jakurai was unusually tall compared to you, and his soft, warm hands perfectly suited to your small head or tiny body that he stroked every time you did something right or when you passed another exam in a row. He was a bit like an older brother, supportive father, vacation/summer lover, and longtime partner. You have never felt so loved and respected as with him.

↘ That’s why one evening, when you were spending time at your home cooking Italian pasta (it was his idea, btw!), you didn’t notice at what point your attention was shifted from arranging plates and cutlery to his handsome face and focused eyes that looked at the boiling sauce. He was definitely perfect in every way, both inside and outside, and you would be really pathetic not to admit that you had crush on him... or even you were in love with him. Naturally, your staring at his body didn’t go unnoticed. Jakurai chuckled under his breath as his head turned towards you.

↘ “Do you like what you see?”

↘ “Yes, daddy.”

↘ You turned pale and panicked when you understood what you said.

↘ However, Jakurai didn’t seem to be angry, disappointed or disgusted with you. On the contrary. The man turned off the cooking red sauce, improved the locks of hair falling on his pale face, then moved away from the burners, walking towards you. You automatically stepped back, of course, but when his smooth hand was on your cheek, you knew you could still feel safe and valuable with him.

*:･ﾟ✧*

“... So you like talking to men like that?”

“N-No, I don’t know what got into me, really. It was the first time in my life...! You’re just so nice to me, you always buy me so many things and I... I don’t know. If it was uncomfortable for you, I’m so terribly sorry and I promi...” You started, feeling again that what you did wasn’t quite right, but at some point Jakurai put his long, index finger to your soft mouth and you calmed down immediately, looking up into his warm, understanding and gentle amusement, blue eyes.

“I didn’t say it bothered me. Why don’t we talk about it on the sofa?” The low voice reached your ears one more time, and you nodded hesitantly.

You wanted to sit on your regular place next to the fluffy, gray pillow, but the man frowned as he patted his both, huge thighs. You blushed immediately, but obediently took your seat next to his crotch. You could swear he was already hard, that’s why your pussy got wet.

“I have long wondered if you like me any different than as a coworker and friend. Because you see, kitten, I personally thought of you more than you might think.” He smiled slightly and you bit your lower, sweet lip between your teeth, nodding your head once again in confirmation of his words.

It took a while to get your mind ready to answer, but after a few longer seconds you turned your head towards a calm and masculine face, admitted that you also thought about him and about whether he will accept your feelings, if you ever confess them. Your pinkish cheeks and glowing eyes were by far the most wonderful thing Dr. Jinguji had ever seen. So he was the first to take your heated left cheek, then close his own eyes, pressing his lips to yours. His free, other hand moved to your right thigh and squeezed the soft skin covered with the fabric of a skirt. A few moments later, you moaned as warm fingers touched your cool skin. Jakurai lost his mind.

“Have you ever touched yourself while you thinking of me, princess?”

“I... Well, I...” You moved away from his mouth, and then you felt your ears and the tip of your nose burn with shame and delight. “Yes, daddy. Three times. B-But my fingers were never enough. I prefer your cock, daddy. It certainly is fat and big, and perfect for my little pussy that has never be fucked by such a mature and gorgeous man.”

“Oh, my love. Daddy’s cock will definitely be perfect for you.” His hands passed under the light blue fabric of your clothes, and after a short while, picked up the colored material. “Hmm. I feel that this situation was planned. Am I wrong?” He stated by touching his finger to your still wet slit, which was covered with white lace. You blushed once more, but you didn’t have a chance to respond to that remark, because your lips again tasted the lips of a man fourteen years older than you who after a quick moment laid your fragile body on the dark couch.

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peakyxtommy · 4 years ago

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Baby’s First Christmas

Summary: Enjoying Baby’s First Christmas with Bonnie, John, & Isaiah.

A/N: Request by @peakyrogers , hope you enjoy! Happy New Year! Wishing you the best this year!

Bonnie: 6m (Son)

It was the big day in the Gold household. It was Aiden's first Christmas. You and Bonnie loved the holiday and always decorated your home accordingly. It was even more fun now that you had your son with you both. You took photos at the beginning of the month and made homemade Christmas cards for your family and friends. You were putting the last sock on your son’s foot before you heard the doorbell ring and loud shouts coming from the door.

You watch as your son’s eyes jump open even wider at the noises.

“I think our family is here to visit Aiden.” You laugh at him before bringing him into your arms, kissing the top of his head.

“If it isn’t the spitting image of my son or what?” Aberama throws his hands toward you as you come down the stairs. You hand your son over to his grandfather, going to stand next to Bonnie.

“I think so more and more everyday” You respond but with looking Bonnie straight in his eyes as he gives you a warm smile. You give him a chaste kiss enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Eww, enough you two. You already have one here for the party, wait until we leave to start cracking at number two.” His sister speaks, taking your son out his grandfather’s arms moving to sit on the couch next to the tree.

“Let’s open some presents.” Aberama speaks.

You take a seat on the floor by the tree and help Bonnie pass out presents one by one. Everyone takes turns opening them and you sit your son down and help him open a few presents but he enjoyed the paper more.

“At least he’s having fun love.” Bonnie speaks as your son squeals in delight at the paper he’s playing with. As the day progressed with dinner, sweets, and hot chocolate. The baby went to bed on time but you and Bonnie went to bed way past your bedtime too busy talking off the sugar rush from the day.

John: 9m (Daughter)

“Miss Emerson, I think you’re almost ready!” John cheers as your nine month old daughter is standing up holding on to the table in front of her bounce on her small feet, as he sits behind her encouraging her movements.

“John, let the poor girl rest. You’ve been at it all week, yeah. Can’t tire her out before presents and on the night before her first Christmas at that hun.” You bend down to give him a kiss, feeling the cool metal of his rings brush against your skin as he tries to deepen it.

“You better behave or you won’t get your present from Santa.” You playfully smack his chest as he licks his lips.

“I called and talked to Santa today personally myself. Do you want to know what he said?” He says in a cocky tone with the smirk to match.

“What did Santa tell you Mr.Shelby?” You humor him right back, enjoying teasing each other.

“He told me you were on the naughty list and I was free to punish you.” His warm breath whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Well, if that’s true. I’ll be ready at a more suitable hour and I'll accept whatever punishment there is to offer. But for now we have a bedtime story and cookies that need to be laid out. So I need you to wrangle the crew for hot chocolate and remind Katie to bring the book down.”

“That’s a lot of things to do.”

“Well I'm sure you can make due.” You kiss him quick before going off to the kitchen to start the first batch of hot chocolate, while John took Emerson and went upstairs to get the rest of the children who were playing together.

Soon enough you were dropping Emerson in her crib and John was handling the other three. You went back downstairs to find your husband sipping on Santa’s whiskey and eating the first of quite a few cookies on the plate.

“We have some quick cleaning to do and then we can enjoy the rest of our evening alone Father Christmas.” You speak pouring your own small glass of whiskey and enjoy a cookie as John stared at you with total lust. It wasn’t long before you tangled in his arms as the moonlight glistened through the windows.

It felt like it wasn’t much longer until the sun was peeking through the windows and the thumps of footsteps and loud whispers were heard as the door was creaking open with your rambunctious children.

“Merry Christmas.” You hear your son Avery speak as your eyes meet his and help lift him onto the bed as Katie and John do the same until the whole crew is in your bed which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in your home.

“Can we open our presents?” Robert, your second son asks John as he sits in between you two as Emerson is sitting on John’s chest.

“Yes, but everyone needs to make sure they brush their teeth and wash their face first. Then go downstairs and we’ll be down in a couple of minutes.” He speaks with a soft but serious tone as the children cheer rushing off to do as they were told.

“Merry Christmas Dad.” You kiss John’s cheek. “Happy first Christmas to my sweet girl.” You say to Emerson who was babbling to herself as she sat on the bed between you and John.

“Merry Christmas doll. Let's get ready for the day, got loads to do today.” He takes Emerson getting up and grabbing his robe off the chair. You follow suit getting yourself freshened up as John takes care of Emerson’s needs. You make it down stairs before them and watch as your kids chat among themselves about what Santa might have gotten them. John and Emerson come two minutes later and he lets the kids begin opening their presents as you go to heat Emerson a bottle to eat while her siblings open presents.

She eats content on the couch as John helps the children. When she’s done eating, you sit her on the floor by the tree next to John who helps her open her presents. It’s the cutest sight really, watching the man you love interact with all your children. He had his own love and devotion toward them, but he would always have a face of softness reserved for them only.

Once breakfast is finished and the kids are content in the living room playing with their toys as a Christmas movie plays in the background, John was back in his usual spot with Emerson trying to get her to walk yet again.

“Love I think she finally has it. Switch spots with me.” He speaks with excitement in his voice.

“Come on Emery. Come to daddy.” He cheers, clapping his hands and holding them open for her as you begin helping her walk the small length until she takes off on her own for just a few steps before falling into John’s lap.

“See, I knew you could do it! I told your mummy so!” He lifts her into the air kissing her cheeks as she laughs from the attention. You couldn’t be any happier on Christmas day than to be surrounded by your big beautiful family.

Isaiah: 11ms (twins girl and boy)

“Love we have to get going or we’re going to be late to mass and my dad will have our heads.” Your husband of five years stresses to you as you finish putting on your heeled boots.

“Alright, I’m almost ready. Get the kids in their car seats and I’ll help you bring them to the car okay?” You look up at him to see him give you a small smile knowing that you weren’t the cause of his stress but his father who asked him to give the opening and closing prayer to the service. He simply leaves the room to go back to your fraternal twins. You check your purse to make sure you have everything and the diaper bag as well. You zip up your coat and grab the bags making your way down stairs to see your husband at the door with both babies in their car seats wide awake.

“The doors on the car are open but be careful it’s a little slippery out.” He gives you your son, Leon, to take to the passenger side of the backseat while he takes your daughter, pearl, to the other half. Once everyone was strapped in, he began the short drive to the church. You would arrive just in time to grab your seats and for Isaiah to see his dad who looked like he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you all walk through the door.

The service goes by pretty quickly with the songs, message, children play, and then lighting of the candles. You find yourselves talking with the congregation and Jeremiah to remind what time to come for presents and breakfast in the morning. You were headed back home because it was way past the kids bedtime. When you get in, you change them and place them down for the night. You and Isaiah took a quick shower together and made love in bed before falling asleep.

The next morning you found yourself at the tree with Isaiah and your twins in a circle at the tree as Jeremiah watched from the couch with a huge smile on his face. You watched as the twins took turns opening their presents to the best of their abilities and getting excited at the mess the wrapping paper was creating. Shoving every little toy in your face as it was revealed to them so they knew that you saw it.

“I have a special gift for you!” Isaiah hands you a box and you open it to see two tickets and a new silk dress.

“This is too much Isaiah. You’re too good to me.”

“That’s not all and we’ll be spending a three day weekend in London too, just the two of us. Dad’s going to watch the twins.” He winks at you as you feel the butterflies in your stomach grow even after all this time together.

“That sounds lovely, thank you.” You smile at him and his father. Once you clean up the wrapping papers you settle down for brunch with Isaiah and his father. Once it’s over, you put the twins down for a nap and the two of you decide to take a nap as well. That when he asks you a serious question.

“Do you want to have another baby soon?”

“Yes, we can. Right after the twin’s first birthday. Now let’s sleep.” You kiss his lips confirming the decision. You rest your head on his rest as his arms tight around your waist. You both fall asleep together.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders preference #holiday imagine #peakyholiday #peakyxtommy #holiday prompts #john shelby x reader #bonnie gold x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #john shelby #Bonnie Gold #isaiah jesus

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years ago

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Inception: Chapter 5

"Pft! I-Ahahaha!" You were doubled over the table trying to stop yourself from choking on your food while Ajax crinkled his nose in disdain. The two of you were at Xinyue Kiosk for a late-night dinner that he had insisted was his treat. You've only ate at fancy food places like this every once in awhile; these meals were so freaking expensive! Your initial hesitance to join Ajax on the basis of money was soon overshadowed by the entertaining sight sitting across the table.

"Tch...tsk..." With every effort, he grew more impatient and frustrated. It didn't help that you were watching and laughing at his incompetent efforts to use chopsticks! "Ugh! Forget it!" He gave up and stabbed one of his sushi rolls rather violently before shoving it into his mouth with a pout. Ajax turned away from you as his face grew redder and redder, but he couldn't help glancing back to see the smile on your face and the tears of joy rolling down your cheeks. Well, as long as this brought you joy...at his own expense...He let out a huff before reaching for his drink. At least whatever bitterness you held towards him last week seemed to disappear.

"I-I can't believe you...! I can't take it!" At long last your laughing fit died down enough so you could breathe, and you reached up to wipe your tears away. "Pft...! I'm sorry, but this is too funny!"

"Yeah yeah," Ajax sighed yet again, his confidence deflating like a balloon and his posture slouching. What a way to impress a girl. He should've went for the fork first!

Noticing his sudden change of attitude, you slipped out of your seat and joined his side, leaning over him. "Here," you swiped the chopsticks off of his plate and placed them in his hand once again, this time so they were in the correct positions. "Now you've got the right hold on them." Your fingers were still draped over his while you guided the sticks to another piece of sushi.

Contrary to your concentration on helping, Ajax was a bit more flustered than usual and it wasn't because of the chopsticks. For some reason his heart fluttered at the sudden lack of distance between the two of you, just like that night under the light of the Mingxiao lantern. 'You think I'm in love with childhood friend? My my my, Mr. Zhongli, perhaps you've finally lost your marbles after spending so much time with mortals,' he recollected. No...there's no way Zhongli's right about this. This is all a fluke! But your hand was so warm, no doubt because of your pyro vision...how long had it been since he felt such gentleness from another person? The closest he's ever come to human contact was by beating his foes senseless! And when was the last time he had a genuine hug? It's been years, he realized, since before the inception of my Fatui status.

"There, see? You'll get the hang of it." He snapped back to the present when your hand quickly left his. Whatever light had begun to gleam in his eyes faded just like the heat from your touch, and he watched you sit back down at your end of the table. "You're not completely hopeless at chopsticks," you smirked.

"You're right, ojou-chan. One day I'll surpass you when it comes to these cursed utensils!" He hid his feelings by attempting to put your lesson to use, but failed drastically again and again. It was obvious he didn't pay attention to a single thing you had told him to do! The boyish desire to one-up his best friend made you giggle again.

Somewhere behind the decorated divider that made up your private dining space sat the eyes and ears of the wolf. Following Master Childe around proved to be fruitful just as expected; while the harbinger often held private meetings and dinners to get closer to clients, this one felt different based on all the others that Charlie had followed him to. There was a distinct familiarity--one that Childe was definitely not faking for the sake of deceit and was shared with the mysterious girl sitting at the other end of the table.

I see, thought Charlie while his ears strained to pick up the other noncoherent whispers on the other side of the screen. He'd been following Childe around all week and had quickly picked up on the harbinger's avoidance of his own men so that he could spend time with you. Clearly, this woman must hold a special place in Childe's heart--an old flame, maybe? Regardless of the specifics of your relationship with him, it would make the most sense for you to be the vigilante Childe has neglected to capture; the merciless blood-thirsty harbinger would've gone in for the kill if it were any other person, but since it's you...you'd be protected. Sheltered. Allowed to get away with tormenting the Fatui since you're so close to Childe. You're untouchable.

Of course, this was all just a theory. To properly identify you as the vigilante Master seeks, he'd have to follow you around instead.

A chill ran down Childe's back out of nowhere; something's wrong. While he continued to struggle with the remainder of the sushi, his gaze darted to every which-way to identify anything out of the ordinary. He was sure the two of you weren't followed, and he had made every effort possible to avoid his subordinates on the way here, even setting up a private room that isn't too common in the Kiosk. Still, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. You noticed the sudden tension in the air around him, and stared until he noticed.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing," his voice lower than a minute ago, "Please excuse me, ojou-chan. I need to use the restroom." He slipped out between two of the dividers and froze once he was out of your sight. The remainder of the room was deserted. How odd...the tension in his shoulders slowly faded as he was put at ease.

"Excuse me," a petite voice drug him out of his thoughts and he was greeted by the waitress. She held a silver platter with a pair of matching deserts on it. "Oh, have you changed your mind on desert after all?"

"No, not at all. Please, allow me." He took the tray from her and watched her exit the room. With one final skeptical glance around the room, he returned to the inside of the dividers.

"Oh, and before I forget," Childe began to dig into a delicious chocolate desert you didn't remember the name of but seemed to be some sort of cake. "I have a business trip coming up at the end of this week in Mondstat."

"Oh really? That sounds fun. How long will you be gone?"

"For a few days at the least. Actually, I was wondering if you'd join me."

Your forkful of chocolate-something froze in midair. "...Join...you...? But I don't have anything to do with your company...I'd be a distraction, don't you think? Plus there's my business with the funeral parlor and I don't think I can request days off on such short--"

"I've already spoken to Zhongli about it. He and Hu Tao cleared you as of last night. So, what do you say? Wouldn't this also give you the chance to visit some of your friends there anyway?"

"Well...yes..." you mumbled with a slight blush.

"What do you have to lose? Think of it as a much-needed vacation. You work too hard from what I've heard from Zhongli! Besides, we can use this opportunity to learn more about each other, don't you think?" Seeing your hesitation, he let out a defeated chuckle and shrugged. "Of course, that's if you want to come with me. If not, I understand."

"I..." Well if my superiors approved, then I guess there's nothing wrong with taking a trip, right? "Okay, I'll come with you."

................................................

The quiet peacefulness of Liyuan wilderness was disrupted by an exhausted groan and the dragging of feet. "Ugh, since when was it ever this hot in Liyue?" Your clothes were soaked in sweat from the summer-like heat despite your vision granting you resistance, but Childe appeared mostly unbothered--mostly. He didn't show it, but when you'd look elsewhere he'd often pull at his collar and reminisce of the harsh winters of the Motherland. "Thank the archons that the sun is finally setting."

"We've already passed Wangshu Inn, but it's not too late to turn back and spend the night there. Are you sure you want to sleep in the woods, Reed? You'd be passing up the chance to cuddle me, you know." He reveled in your half-disgusted, half-flustered reaction while you struggled to fully comprehend his words.

"Q-Quit it! Like I've said before, this wouldn't be my first trip to Mond. I have no problem lying on the ground! Or are you saying you can't handle it?" Flipping the subject onto him did no good at hiding your flushing skin; the arrogant smirk on his face proved it. "...Why don't we stay here? There's the creek nearby, and a clearing up ahead."

Childe eyed the surrounding area and set his pack down. "If the lady insists." The pleasant aroma of packed food filled the two of you with delight. "Shall I begin cooking dinner?"

"I wouldn't mind," you practically drooled. Ajax's cooking was amazing! After that initial dinner when both of you reunited, he would sometimes surprise you with homecooked meals to take home and man were you excited for the next time he offered. A toy seller and a cook...his younger siblings must live a luxury! "I'll get some water!"

The creek wasn't too far away--perhaps some fifty feet or so. The crystalline waters murmured quietly over the pebbles and stones, some spaces louder, others quieter where the fish gathered. If it wasn't getting darker by the minute and the threat of hilichurls wasn't so prominent, you could've stayed here much longer. Not that hilichurls posed that much of a threat to someone acquainted with your fighting skills, but you've only come across them once or twice, and the giant ones could easily bulldoze through you if given the chance.

Once the pot of water was full you rose to walk back to your little makeshift camp. Ajax had insisted on bringing fresh produce since the trip to Mondstat wasn't a particularly long one and the trip was rather straightforward. Maybe he was going to make stew? Whatever he chose, you just hoped none of the food spoiled from the sun beating down on the packs all day.

By the time you got back, Ajax had already managed to start a fire and was humming some unknown tune while preparing the produce. You couldn't help but raise a brow and tighten your hold on the pot. "Um...really?"

"Hm?" His eyes slid to you, then back to the fire. "Oh! Sorry, I wasn't thinking. Don't worry, Reed. It won't bite you."

"I'm not coming close enough to feel the heat on my skin. Here," you thrust the pot towards him and he made sure to grab it before the water spilled over. Your light footsteps got quieter the further you strayed from Ajax and the fire, taking shelter beneath one of the far trees where your packs lay.

"Relax, ojou-chan. I won't let it hurt you." A small chuckle escaped him before he resumed his humming session without a second thought or noticing your silence.

You really don't remember...You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. What did they do to you, Ajax?

Your silence carried on until the crickets duetted with the occasional hoots of a nearby owl and the crackling of the fire weighed heavily on your mind. "I'm sorry, ojou-chan."

"Mm?" He had stopped rambling about some disagreement he and a coworker had about communication and was now looking directly at you.

"I'll put out the fire," he moved.

"No, you need to stay warm."

"I wouldn't say that." He drug out a blanket from his pack and laid it in the space between where he sat by the fire and you, who sat at the tree behind him. "Here. You'll lay on that side, I'll lay next to the fire."

Your eyes narrowed at the flickering flames behind him. "Is that even safe?"

"Well if the fire ever gets out of control, you or I can put it out," he reasoned and pat the spot next to him until you reluctantly obliged. He didn't lay down until you were settled in with your back facing him. Silence befell the campsite until he took a deep breath. "What's on your mind, Reed?"

It took a few minutes for the answer to come out. "Do you not remember our last encounter before my mother and I left Snezhnaya?"

"Now that you mention it, not really." He remembered a vague goodbye, but nothing else about it. It was sometime right after he returned from the abyss if he got his timeline correct. Feeling a tad nervous for whatever reason now, he let out a small laugh. "Could you possibly enlighten--" You rolled around so you faced him and met his gaze with tears. That's when his memory came rushing back.

"Ajax! Ajax!" You ran at him full speed with hot tears spilling down your cheeks until you collided with him in a tight embrace. "I--I thought they got you too!" He seemed to freeze under your touch, so you pulled away to look him over. He appeared tired and wild for lack of a better term, with eyes as wide as saucers like a snow leopard meeting a human for the first time. He was different, but you couldn't put your finger on how.

"'Too?'"

"The Fatui," you sobbed. "A day after you went missing, my house...my daddy..."

His words came out as harsh as the cold with not a hint of his kind demeanor shining through. "Spit it out."

"You know how my daddy fights against the Fatui in my town? They burned my house down and...and daddy..." Was your face red from crying all day or from the cold? "...he burned with it." Ajax didn't seem injured, so some of the stress weighing your shoulders down dissipated a bit now that you knew your dear friend wasn't hurt.

But instead of Ajax explaining where he was or consoling you for the loss of your father, a horrid giggle pierced through the snowscape. It was inhuman, what with its pitch sending an icy chill down your spine and instantly replacing your expression of sorrow to one of confusion and horror. "Ha...Hahahaha! Hahahahah!"

"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny!"

"Ahahaha! Silly Reed," he chided and pat your head like one consoles a younger sibling, "in this world, only the strong survive. Your father wasn't strong enough." The girl before him trembled at his words. "He was too weak if he died like that."

"Th--This isn't funny, Ajax! Cut it--OW!" You were shoved into the snow with an unfamiliar strength. Ajax never raised a hand at you, even when you two played together. What was he--

A dangerous glint danced in his eyes like the fire that consumed your house two days ago. "No, you cut it out! You're gonna get yourself killed if you keep acting weak. The world has no mercy on people like us. It's kill or be killed. Do you understand that, Reed?"

"Why are you...What is the matter with you?! Don't you care? What did the Fatui do to you?! Who even are you?" Hot tears rolled down your cheeks until the cold froze them in their tracks. Yet the boy that stared down at you was uncaring, cruel, and held no life in his eyes.

"It wasn't the Fatui," he muttered to himself. "Hurry up and get on with it already. What was really so important that you needed to tell me your dad died?"

"My mama and I...we're leaving tomorrow. I came to make sure you were okay and to say goodbye. We won't see each other again, Ajax," you finally rose to your feet and clenched your fists. "But you don't care, do you?"

"No. I don't. Leave me alone already."

"I..." Ajax blinked several times as he processed his long-forgotten memory. "I'm so sorry, Reed."

"If you're so sorry, then tell me what happened. What did the Fatui do to you?" Even in the dark, you could see a hint of sadness in the depths of his eyes. "If they hurt you too I swear...I swear I'll make every single one of them pay." Heat radiated from your body at the thought. "I promise." Yet even as you said this, there was another, darker, more bittersweet emotion in his expression.

"I...fell into the Abyss." Those were the only words he muttered before rolling onto his other side, facing away from you. And though you didn't really understand what he meant, his empty tone struck a cord within you. Warm arms gently wrapped around his torso with a heat softer than the campfire that lulled him to sleep.

#genshin x reader #childe genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia fluff #childe tartaglia #wesimpforxiaoupdates #genshin impact

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pregnant-piggy · 4 years ago

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Christmas at the Burrow

Fred Weasley x reader

this is part of All I want for Christmas is fanfiction

Words: 3.3k

A/N: Merry Christmas, my angels! Whether or not you celebrate Christmas, I hope you have an amazing day and have fun while I stuff myself on my mother’s delicious food

The snow had been falling all night and when you woke up the whole world was covered with a white layer of the glistening crystals. It was a precious sight to see; children playing in the snow, making snowmen and throwing snowballs. It took you back to when you were younger and you played with your little brother in the snow before your mother would call you inside for hot chocolate.

As you stood at the window you heard Fred stir in his sleep. He had never been the most comfortable to lie next to, but over the years you had learned how to deal with his constant moving. It had even become something you had grown to appreciate now.

You turned around from the window and looked at the open suitcase on the floor. Tomorrow was Christmas and Molly had invited you and Fred over to spend the holiday at the Burrow. You had gladly accepted the offer; you liked the Weasleys and it was always fun around them. Plus, you and Fred didn’t get to see them very often, so a holiday would be a great way to catch up.

Fred moved again, but this time he opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for a moment while his arm patted the empty space next to him, probably looking for your body. When he couldn’t find you he lifted his head. His eyes scanned the room and a smile spread on his face when he noticed you standing at the window.

‘Good morning, love,’ Fred said with his raspy morning voice.

‘Morning, Fred,’ you said and picked up a sock from the floor that had fallen next to the suitcase. ‘Are you ready to go?’ you asked, knowing very well that he had not even looked once at his bag.

‘Uhm, give me a minute,’ Fred said and he stepped out of the bed, scanning the room for his unpacked suitcase.

‘Take your time, babe,’ you reassured him. ‘We’re not leaving yet.’

Fred walked over to you and you saw his eyes widen when he noticed the snow outside. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder as he looked outside. You placed a kiss in Fred’s neck and then pulled back from the hug.

‘Come on, your mother will kill us if we are late,’ you said and pushed Fred to the closet.

-o0o-o00-

The landscape around the Burrow looked magically in the snow. It looked like one of the paintings your grandparents had hanging in their house. Through the window in the living room you could see the lights from the tree and you saw Molly through the window in the kitchen.

The path to the front door had been cleared from snow but it was still slippery and you had to grab Fred’s shoulder to prevent to fall. He laughed and placed his arm around your waist. Slowly you walked to the door, regretting the sneakers you had decided to wear. The door swung open before you could even knock and you immediately felt Molly’s arms around you.

‘Oh, how lovely to see you!’ she exclaimed as he held you in her arms.

‘It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley,’ you chuckled.

‘Please, call me Molly, dear,’ Mrs Weasley said. ‘You’re practically family now.’

‘You hear that Fred? It’s time for ring,’ Ginny teased from behind her mother. Fred turned slightly red and shot Ginny an angry glare over his mother’s shoulder.

Molly ushered you in and ordered Ron to take your suitcase and bring it upstairs. The youngest son grumbled but quickly disappeared with the bags when he saw his mother’s look. You followed Molly to the living room, where you found Hermione and Harry talking to Bill and Arthur.

The usual welcoming hugs were given and it took a while before you had said hello to everyone. Molly placed you on the couch when you offered to help her with anything and Fred slumped down next to you. His arm was around your shoulder immediately as he started to talk to his father.

You let your gaze wonder through the room. One corner was taken by the big tree, that was full with golden and red decorations. There were actual candles instead of the muggle lights you and Fred had in your tree. On the walls and around the windows were fir branches through which a golden ribbon had been waved. The candles on the coffee table lit up the books on it and the fire place was burning fiercely. The inside of the house was the complete opposite the scenery outside. But it matched the cosy feeling.

The Burrow was one of the few places you actually felt at home. The Weasleys made you feel welcome and safe and you were really thankful that they had taken you into their family without a doubt. You remembered that the first time you had met them, you had been really nervous even though Fred had kept assuring you that they would love you. It’s not every day that you meet the family of your boyfriend. But the nervousness had disappeared after ten minutes and had never returned since.

Molly had prepared the most wonderful dinner. The table stood full with delicious dishes and the kitchen was filled with scents that made your mouth water.

You all cramped around the dining table. You were pressed between Fred and Ginny and your feet touched Hermione’s if you stretched them just a little. But this was how it always was; cosy and, despite the lack of personal space, comfortable.

Dinner was as delicious as it looked. You listened to Fleur and Molly talk about Bill’s abilities as a father, now that Fleur had given birth to their daughter Victoire. Fleur told about the sleepless nights and the early morning and you chuckled to yourself as you internally were glad that you weren’t even thinking about children yet. You loved Fred with your entire being but a baby was not on your planning now and, as you heard Fleur’s complaints, you figured it would be a while before it was, if it even would be.

On the other side of you, Ginny was in a heated discussion with Ron. She claimed that Holyhead Harpies were far better than the Chudley Cannons, because not only were they higher than them in the rankings, they also had much more skilled players. To which Ron said, while waving his fork in the air and sprinkling his friends with pieces potato, that though the Cannons might not be the highest in the rankings, they had been going along for a long time and that showed that they were better.

After dinner, when Arthur had stopped the two youngest siblings’ discussion, everyone was sleepy and in a jolly mood from all the food. You plopped down on the couch and Fred lied next to you, his head in your lap. Your hand was playing with his hair while Molly turned on the radio to listen Celestina Warbeck, making her children groan as one. While the soft music played through the room, Fred closed his eyes for a second. You watched as he drifted off to sleep, his nose scrunching up when you tapped him on his forehead to keep him awake.

‘Don’t fall asleep, love,’ you whispered to him, so no one else could hear you.

‘’M not asleep,’ he muttered and rubbed his eyes as he sat up straight. ‘See? Bright awake!’

You kissed his grin and rested your head on his shoulder, taking his hand in yours. Fred wrapped his arm around you and pulled your closer to him, as he listened to his oldest brother trying to talk some sense in Ron.

‘Ron, just be a man and ask her to move in with you!’ Bill whisper-yelled and Ron shook his head. ‘You’ve been dating Hermione for two years now, you basically lived with her every summer since you met! What is keeping you?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ron mumbled. ‘What if she doesn’t even want to live with me?’

‘Ron, she is dating you. She really likes you,’ Bill said and he pushed Ron against his shoulder. ‘Just ask her. It’ll be the best Christmas gift!’

Ron sighed but he nodded and looked at Hermione, who was sitting on the other side of the room, talking with Ginny. You smiled at Ron’s nerves and lifted your head to talk to him. ‘She really does like you, Ron. Believe me, whenever we’re out she always talks about you.’

Something in Ron’s face changed and he smiled at you. ‘Yeah, I can ask her. She’ll like it. I’m sure she will…’

Fred presses a kiss to the side of your head and he squeezed your hand. ‘You’re too good for this world, sweetheart.’

-o0o-o00-

On Christmas morning you woke up with Fred clinging onto you. He had his eyes closed and his mouth was open a little, sending shivers down your spine every time he breathed out and his breath stroke over your skin.

A warm feeling spread over you as you realised it was Christmas. You nudged Fred awake softly and he lifted his head, his eyes still half closed and his voice sleepy.

‘Whut?’

‘Merry Christmas, dear,’ you whispered and kissed Fred lightly.

‘Merry Christmas, y/n,’ he said back and deepened the kiss.

You both quickly changed your actual sleeping clothes to the pyjamas Molly and Arthur had given you past Christmas and on your way downstairs you came across Harry and Ron, who were also wearing their pyjamas.

‘Merlin, I hope this year’s just jumpers,’ Ron grumbled, his arm stretching to his leg to scratch.

‘I agree,’ Fred mumbled and he shimmered his shoulders.

Though the thought behind the pyjamas was really sweet, they itched like hell. The fabric Molly had chosen was not one you would normally choose for something that was supposed to be comfortable. So the pyjamas were only worn whenever Molly and Arthur were around, because even though they might not be comfortable, you didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

The ground beneath the Christmas tree was covered with surprisingly many gifts. Now that you were all older, the gifts had gotten more personal and less. You weren’t greedy kids anymore. But the sight of that many presents did make you happy.

The sounds coming from the kitchen told you that Molly was already awake and preparing breakfast that would most likely be just as much as dinner last night. Music was coming from the kitchen to the living room, where you were. While, Ron and Fred sat down, you and Harry, as the good children-in-law you were, went to the kitchen.

‘Good morning,’ you said and Molly turned around to you. Her smile widened when she saw you and Harry were wearing the pyjamas.

‘Can we help with anything?’ Harry asked.

‘Oh no, dear don’t worry, there’s not much to do,’ Molly said while she stirred in a pot and gestured her wand at the plates in the cupboard, so they flew through the air to the table.

But being in the family for a while had taught both you and Harry that there was always something to do when Molly was cooking. Harry went to set the table and you took place at the counter kneading the dough for the bread Molly was making. The Weasley mother sent you and Harry a grateful smile and quickly wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye.

Soon you were joined by Hermione, who started to help you with making the bread. There was an easy conversation between the four people in the kitchen. You talked with Harry and Hermione about their jobs at the ministry and they explained the changes that they were trying to push through.

‘It’s not much and even less gets actually through, but it is motivation to see it change slowly,’ Hermione said while she formed little balls from the dough you handed to her.

‘I think it’s great,’ you said. ‘The ministry definitely needs some change.’

Not much later Fleur entered the kitchen, carrying Victoire on her hip. The little girl was slowly starting to wake and rubbed her eyes while she hid her face from the people in the kitchen. Fleur put her in her high chair, that stood at one end of the table, and gave her a bottle that the baby soon started to drink from.

‘At what time is George coming?’ Fleur asked, while she sat down next to her daughter.

‘Sometime after breakfast,’ you answered. From all the people in the kitchen you were the closest to George and apparently, as no one else gave an answer, the only one who knew what time he was coming.

‘Figure he made it late last night?’ Harry asked with a smirk on his face.

‘Yeah, I think so,’ you said, handing Hermione the last bit of dough. ‘He was going out with Lee and well, you know how that usually ends.’

‘That we know,’ Hermione mumbled disapprovingly. The last time you had all gone out together, George had forced everyone to stay till the sun came up and that had not fallen right with Hermione, who had had an early day at work the next morning.

When the bread stood in the oven and the rest of breakfast was done, Molly ordered everyone in the living room. You walked in on Fred, Ron, Bill and Ginny all focusing on a frenetic game of Ludo. From the looks of it, Ginny was winning and none of her siblings was agreeing with that.

‘Oh, come on!’ Bill cried out when his piece got thrown of the board by Fred. ‘Why would you do that? I only got one piece on the board!’

‘Sorry, mate,’ Fred shrugged as he placed his piece on the spot Bill’s had stood just two seconds ago.

All four of them were wearing their pyjamas as well and the colour combination was hideous. Molly however couldn’t be more happy to see her children in the things she had made for them and excitedly asked everyone to gather round so she could make a photo.

You all huddled together on and behind the sofa. You sat on Fred’s lap, Hermione was sitting next to him on the couch and Ron at her feet on the floor. On one arm of the couch Harry sat and on the other Ginny. Bill and Fleur stood behind the couch, their arms around their daughter. Arthur went to grab his camera and hurried off to the garage.

He was gone for a while and the longer it took, the less happy everyone got. Ron was hungry and asked when breakfast would be ready. Harry shifted uncomfortable on the armrest and kept scratching his knee. You were getting hot with Fred’s arms around you. Behind you Victoire wasn’t happy to wait either. Softly she began to whine, while Bill and Fleur tried everything to keep her quiet.

After twenty minutes Arthur came back with a red face and the camera in his hand. ‘I forgot where I put it last time.’

Everyone sat up straight and smiled at the camera. The light flashed and everyone sighed content after. You relaxed and moved away from Fred’s arms. Harry jumped off the armrest while he rubbed his bum and cursed the spot he had been sitting on.

‘Fred could you hold Victoire for a moment?’ Bill asked his younger brother and before getting an answer he pushed the girl in Fred’s arms.

Bill ran upstairs and Fred turned to his niece. ‘Hello little princess, are you having fun?’

You smiled as you watched Fred bounce Victoire around, talking to her as he showed her the room.

‘And this is y/n,’ Fred said when he walked over to you. ‘Can you say hello to y/n?’

You laughed and placed around arm around Fred’s shoulder as you smiled at Victoire. She giggled and scrunched up her face as she looked at you.

‘Merry Christmas, angel,’ you said and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘Smile!’ Hermione exclaimed and when you and Fred turned around to her, she was holding the camera and took a picture. The flash created spots on your retina and you had to blink for them to disappear.

‘Come, come, I believe breakfast is ready!’ Molly said from the kitchen.

-o0o-o00-

That afternoon you were sitting with the whole family in the living room again. George had arrived shortly after dinner and the bags under his eyes told you that he had in fact made it late the previous night. Nevertheless, his smile was still as bright as ever.

The pyjamas had been changed for jumpers, everyone with their own first letter. Yours was dark green with a red letter and Fred’s was red with a green letter. ‘To match,’ Molly had proudly said and you couldn’t get it over your heart to make a cheesy comment.

You were sitting next to Ron, who was fidgeting with the edges of his sleeves. He still hadn’t asked Hermione to move in with him and the anxiety was eating him up. So while Hermione had turned to Ginny, you spoke to him.

‘When are you gonna ask her?’

‘I don’t know. I’m nervous,’ Ron said and he flashed you a little smile.

‘Don’t be, Ron. She loves you and she’d be a fool not to move in with you. I know she will say yes.’

‘It’s a big step,’ Ron sighed.

‘It’s a really big step, but it will be a great one,’ you said and you thought back of when you and Fred first moved in together. ‘It’s a lot easier. You never have to worry about what time you were supposed to meet up or at whose place you’re going to stay. Plus, you know her so well, it will be easy!’

Ron thanked you and apparently decided to just get over with it, because he got up and asked Hermione if he could talk to her for a moment. As they left the room you made eyes with Fred and he made his way over to you.

‘I assume you have given him the final push?’ he asked as he slumped down beside you.

‘Why would you think that?’ you asked.

‘Because out of all people, you’re the only one who can make Ron actually do stuff. Bill and I have been trying to get him to ask her for months now. You’re here one day and now he’s doing it.’

‘He just needed a little motivation,’ you shrugged.

Fred laughed and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. Resting your head on his shoulder you watched Harry and Ginny as they played wizard’s chess. Harry was losing miserably, but you figured he only did so to see the happy look on Ginny’s face. He wasn’t even paying attention to the board as Ginny’s knight dragged his queen off the board, but instead watching her face.

Outside the sky darkened and little white snowflakes fell from the dark clouds. You stared out of the window and watched the world outside turn white. A warm, cosy feeling spread through your body as you felt the heat from the fire warm your face and the warmth that Fred’s hand around your waist brought. The light was reflected in the shiny golden Christmas ornaments in the tree and spectrums of golden specks showed on the ceiling. The scent of the pine tree and the slight burn of candles filled the room.

There was no other option than to smile at the family that was sitting around you and had made this the best Christmas.

- - - - - -

taglists:

general HP: @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna @kylosleftbuttcheek @mrs-malfoy-always @thefandomplace @magicwithaknife @mt2413 @aesthetically-hailey @superbturtlemakerathlete @the-natureofme @missswriter @hahee154hq

Weasley twins: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

MASTERLIST

#all i want for christmas is fanfiction #merry christmas #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred imagine #fred #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter x reader

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bluebellwriting · 4 years ago

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Love Me Tender Part 6

Hey folks! I know it’s been a minute, I’ve been super busy with work and school, but I’m by no means done with this piece and you know I had to post something for Valentine’s Day (to make up for the fact that single and lonely 😆😭)

Despite popular belief, Hell does in fact freeze over. It’s Hell, after all, and in the world of pain and torture, everything is fair game. And it’s February, historically one of the coldest months for you back when you were living and certainly the most miserable in Hell too. The roads are slick with sheets of ice, you can’t walk a block without a three-foot icicle nearly spearing itself through you, and everyone’s car is perpetually trapped in a snowbank thanks to Lucifer’s “generous snow plow program.” Each winter day reminds you of the worst snow cyclones from when you were growing up in Brooklyn, cold yes, but in a way it’s all very sentimental. They remind you of the winter nights cuddled up with your siblings, hot chocolate in hand, listening to the winds blustering against your windows. It’s all rather lovely, in a strange way.

Your boyfriend of four months does not seem to agree, if the way he’s gripping you and nuzzling into your neck is anything to go by. You’ve been trying to extricate yourself from your practically shared bed for the last ten minutes, but each attempt only causes Alastor to pull you closer. He’s basically on top of you now, those boney forearms are stronger than you’d think.

“Sweetheart,” you whisper. “It’s time to get up.”

Alastor groans but otherwise your voice falls on deaf ears.

“Come on, we have to make breakfast and then--”

“But darling, it’s freezing,” he sighs. “And why would I go anywhere when I have my own personal heater right here.”

It’s really hard to stay mad at him, especially when he places sweet little kisses from your cheek to your shoulder and back again.

“Well your personal heater has some errands to run and needs to get her day started.”

“Ugh,” Alastor whines and inch by inch, begins to roll off of you. “How can you even stand to be out in that unbearable cold? Don’t you want to stay right here with me, your loving and adoring boyfriend?”

“You know I would,” you boop his nose. “But then I wouldn’t be able to get your present.”

His ears perk up immediately.

“Present?” He coos. “A present for lil’ ol’ me? Dearest, you shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, but I can’t pick it up until I get out of this bed.”

“Oh fine. I suppose I have some things to do for tonight as well,” he teases and kisses you on the nose before finally allowing you to shift out of bed.

“Although before you leave me,” he whines. “I have a little something to kick off the festivities.”

With a snap of his fingers, a red garment manifests in your arms.

“Oh, Alastor.” You run your hands over the thick velvet of the dress. “It’s lovely.”

“This is just the beginning, love. Now go try it on,” he shoos you off to the bathroom, then immediately curls back up into the comforter to protect himself from the draft leaking in from your window.

The dress is beautiful and warm. As soon as you change into it and assess yourself in the bathroom mirror it hits you that this has to be a customized dress. It fits you far too perfectly and the fabric is so soft, it’s like a blanket heating you up and snuggling you in. It’s either custom or enchanted with Alastor’s magic. Or maybe both, you wouldn’t put it past him to make this the perfect dress.

The last four months together have been a dream. A blissful and rapturous dream that you never want to wake up from. If you thought he was sweet before you began dating, then this is an entirely new level. You two are practically glued to the hip, and he finds a way to make every possible moment so enthralling and exciting that it doesn’t even matter.

Everything about him is just enthralling, and the best part is that he can’t seem to get enough of you either. It makes your face warm and your mouth split into a grin just thinking about it.

You poke your head out of the bathroom door and giggle at the sight of Alastor in his own personal blanket cocoon.

“Comfortable?” You ask.

“I’d be more comfortable if you were here with me.”

“While that sounds tempting, I wouldn’t want to ruin my fabulous new dress.”

He shoots up, blanket still around his shoulders, eyes wide and alert and trained on the way the bodice clings to your curves. It’s even more perfect than he could have expected.

“Do you like it?” He scoots to the edge of the bed and holds his arms out for you to step into.

“I love it.” You smile and step between his legs to fall into his embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you, my love.”

“That’s just the beginning, dear,” he cheers.

“Alastor, you didn’t--”

“Nonsense! It’s our first Valentine’s together and it must be the best of all time!” Ever one for theatrics, with a flourish of his arm the room is filled with red roses.

“Oh my goodness,” you giggle and cup his face in your hands. “You darling man.”

Alastor melts into your hands, letting the softness of your palms warm his cheeks.

“Only for you, love.” He leans forward and nuzzles your nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

If you weren’t worried about getting to the store and back in time, you would have stayed here, exactly like this, for hours more.

“Let’s begin the day, shall we, love?” You whisper.

“But it’s cold!” He whines. “And you’re so warm!”

“Ugh, you’re such a southern boy,” you tease and pull away from him, if only to draw him out of his blanket nest and into the world.

“You love this southern boy,” he laughs and finally rises. With a quick snap, he’s dressed in a redder-than-average suit with one of the red roses on your floor now pinned to his lapel.

He hands you your coat, gloves, hat, scarf, and tries to force another sweater upon you but you stop him before you’re a complete bundle of wool and layers.

---

Charlie must have gotten up early because the entire lobby is littered with hearts and confetti. Chocolates are on every available surface and your fearless leader is currently snuggling with Vaggie in matching heart sweaters. You watch Angel hand Husk a box of chocolates wrapped in a lovely bow. Hesitantly, Husk opens the box and spits out whatever he was drinking all over your brother before stomping away with a red face.

“What did you do to that poor man?” You call over.

“Just gave him an innocent token of my affections,” Angel chimes and shows you the contents of the box: three rows of chocolates with letters printed on each piece, spelling out “Best Dick Ever.”

“Angel, that is so vulgar,” you exclaim.

“It’s the day of love, sis.” Angel pops one of the pieces into his mouth.

“That is not love, my fellow,” Alastor chastises.

“Aww, that’s cute coming from you, strawberry pimp.”

“I’ll have you know that I am plenty romantic,” Alastor says incredulously. “Aren’t I, (Y/N)?”

“You are, love. The most romantic,” you coo. “Now I have to get going. Please be nice, boys.”

“And you,” Alastor leans down to pull your scarf tighter around you, “promise me that you will be careful. You’re sure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, love. I’ll be fine. Angel,” you turn to him. “Be nice.”

“’K, mom,” he calls back to you, waving as you begin your journey into the chilly winds.

“So,” Angel drawls, sidling up to Alastor. “What are you doing for my sister on this ever most sacred day of love and affection?”

“Something special and perfect and I will not have you distracting me,” Alastor sighs and snaps his fingers, transporting himself to his cottage deep in the woods of the Pentagram. Because only a crazy person would want to walk out in that cold. Good thing Alastor loves your kind of crazy.

---

It’s been a while since Alastor has been to his home, his actual home, one that is reminiscent of the large, Queen Anne-style homes of New Orleans. Dust is collecting on the counters and window sills, but that’s nothing that some quick magic can’t fix. The real task at hand is the redecorating and the meal he has to prepare for tonight to be as perfect as can be. This is certainly not the first time that you’ve been to his home but he’s hoping that it will be the last time that he calls it “his home.”

If he had it his way, tonight would be the night that Alastor asked you to marry him, to spend the rest of eternity -- or as long as you’d have him at least -- together in Hell as husband and wife, as partners in crime until the very fabric of the universe began to fray at the seams. He’s known for so long, long before you began your courtship, that he wanted to marry you and it took everything within him not to propose to you on your first date. But he had to be patient, suave, a perfect gentleman, because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off with a hasty courtship and engagement. The last man who had attempted that with you, well, Alastor was still in the process of hunting him down so he could offer you his head on a spit. That was supposed to be the second part of your Valentine’s gift but alas, the wretched soul was more slippery than he had anticipated.

Hopefully you’d be impressed enough by the way he had decorated the house with some of your favorite colors and furniture from the 1940s, things to make it look more like a home you could share and grow into.

---

The beauty about Hell in the wintertime is that there are so few people out on the streets to bother you. The sidewalks and roads are eerily quiet, the snow swallowing up distant sounds so the only ones left is the crunch of your boots. Your trip to Rosie’s had been quick, as the poor woman was overrun with sinners trying to buy up last-minute Valentine’s gifts. As she said to you in passing while gift wrapping some tacky jewelry for a panicked demoness, “good for business, bad for relationships.”

You clutched your gift bag close to your chest, guarding it from any muggers who would even dare steal the most perfect gift for your Alastor. This was weeks in the making and you were not about to let someone ruin your first good Valentine’s Day.

You approached the door to the hotel, already anticipating a warm fire to warm your cheeks and nose, when suddenly an arm is around you and you’re no longer in front of the hotel. No, after blinking your eyes to readjust, you’re now staring at Alastor’s home, which means the arm and body hugging you close belongs to your sweet, adoring, and sometimes startling beau.

“Alastor!” You squeal. “What have I told you about surprising me like that?”

“I’m sorry, love,” he chuckles. “But I just couldn’t have you out in the cold any longer.”

“If this wasn’t a day dedicated to love you’d be buried in snow right now,” you grumble.

“I don’t doubt that, sweetest. Now come on, the fire is waiting for you.”

When Alastor first brought you into his home it was your one-month anniversary. You were actually relieved when it wasn’t a massive mansion like most Overlords pick for themselves, and you couldn’t help but be charmed by the perfectly retro, 1920s decor.

But it’s different now. The living room has new, floral wallpaper and some of the furniture reminds you of... your old home back in New York.

“You redecorated,” you shiver as you allow the warmth of the home heat up your body. Alastor rubs his hands up and down your shoulders to warm you up as soon as your coat and layers have been shed.

“Do you like it?” He asks, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes.

“Oh it’s lovely,” you breathe and inhale, smelling the hot meal he’s probably slaved over. “Just surprising. What brought this on?”

“Oh, just, wanted to try something new. Are you ready for dinner?”

“I’ve been salivating since I first stepped into the door.”

Dinner is delicious, mouth wateringly incredible and cajun. But all throughout dinner you couldn’t help but notice the way Alastor’s knee bounced or the way his hand shook whenever he held his fork to his mouth. Not to mention the eery quiet between you two. You can’t seem to get more than a one-word response out of him. It makes your heart drop, and the way his eyes shift away from your gaze makes a pit form in your stomach.

“Alastor, love. Is everything alright?”

His eyes dart up to meet yours. His teeth worry his bottom lip and you can hear his fingers tapping excessively on his seat.

“Of course, darling. Everything is right as rain. Are you enjoying your food?”

“It’s amazing, Al. It’s always amazing.” You beam at him and reach across the table to hold on to his hand.

“If you don’t have any more delightful surprises for me, love, could I give you my gift now?”

“(Y/N) you didn’t--”

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.”

Reaching down beside your chair, you pull out the perfectly wrapped present and slide it across the table to him.

“It’s not much,” you explain. “But I hope you like it.”

It’s perfect. So perfect, the wrapping, the bow, the very idea that his darling has given him a gift at all, that he doesn’t even want to open it. As much as he wants to tear it open, there’s the urge to keep this moment preserved in his mind forever and ever, just in case his present to you goes south tonight.

But from the way you’re looking at him, eyes wide and hopeful, he knows he has to open it right now.

Inside is a little plastic... view finder? He’s really never seen anything like this. They look like binoculars but there’s a little white disk inside with small film negatives along the circumference.

“It’s a reel viewer,” you explain. “Put it up to your eyes and click the lever.”

So he does. And with each click he’s met with little candids of you and him, some from before your relationship began, some from after, all of them more perfect than the last and preserved forever just for him. His heart swells and warms an overwhelming amount. His joy leaks from his mouth and eyes, until it feels like the sun itself is pouring through his teeth and tears.

“Oh, (Y/N), darling...” he sniffles.

“I know it’s not much but--”

“It’s everything, dearest.” It really is. And more importantly it’s enough for him to get his act together. He feels like he can breathe again, like the fog of doubt has finally been lifted. What was he so worried about? You love him, of course, you love him.

“It’s perfect.” He rises and comes to kneel before you. “More lovely and wonderful than you will ever know. So much better than my gift to you but I hope you will love it all the same. I love it, (Y/N). I love you. So, so very much, dearest.”

“Alastor, I’m going to love anything you give me because I love you, sweetheart.” You peck his nose.

“Yes, well, that’s the thing. Because really, this feels more like just another gift from you to me.”

“Is it now?” You tease.

“It is...” he sighs. “I love you. I hope you never have to doubt that for an instant in your life. And I know this might be too soon, and you can say no for now, or forever, but I have never doubted for a minute that you are the one for me. My gift to you, love, sweetheart, darling dearest, is this.”

He motions to the dining room.

“The... dining room?”

“No, love,” he chuckles. “The house. My house... Our house. If you’ll have it. If you’ll have me.”

You gasp and tears flood your eyes so quickly that you have to blink them away to see Alastor’s hopeful eyes properly.

“You’re asking me to move in with you?”

“I am. I’m asking you to make this house, our home.”

“Oh, Alastor.” You launch forward and wrap your arms around his neck. You press your lips to his in a bruising kiss, letting him bundle you up in his own arms and grip your waist.

You pull way for a brief moment, short enough to mumble out a fervent series of ‘yeses.’

“Of course,” you say between kisses to his face. “Of course, I’ll move in with you.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x Chubby!reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #valentine's day #they say write the stories you want to see

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scorsoneamelia · 3 years ago

Note

You may be able to write sth about link being sick or sth about then having a second child or amelia and link doing a research together

omg omg ok i like this!! it’s taken me a while to write because i’ve been out of town and i miss amelink :((( FLUFFY AMELINK!!! this sucks and i’ve been editing it for days but fluffy link isn’t my strongest pieces but i’m planning on doing better send me more inspiration too because writers block lmao also im so sorry it wouldn’t let me add a Keep Reading thingy so sorry that this takes up ur feed :( Most would agree that Autumn was the best season of the year, trees changing colours from yellows to oranges before shredding their leaves onto the grass. People wearing sweaters and hoodies, tea and hot chocolate in their hands. Fall gave you a warm feeling, a season that everyone couldn’t wait for. It was October 31st--- Halloween. The evening was cool, a crisp breeze that was enough to make you want to wrap a blanket around yourself and drink a warm cup of hot chocolate. It wasn’t freezing out there, but it was definitely cool. The house was decorated with Halloween decorations; inside and outside. Link went all out this year, buying as many Halloween products he could get his hands onto. The entire front yard, and front of the house had skeletons, witches, spiders, spider webs, ghosts; literally everything and anything. He had spent an entire day climbing onto the roof, even using ladders to get up higher onto the trees and roof of the house so that he could make the house look as scary as possible. Amelia never got a decision in a Halloween costume for Scout, Link just showed up with a pumpkin costume and insisted that it was the costume. Zola went as a doctor; neurosurgeon she specified. “Just like my dad.” It wasn’t even a tough choice for her, it was the first costume in mind and that’s what she wanted to go as all year. Bailey was a superhero---Spiderman. And Ellis; a princess. They all had the day off, all planning to go trick or treating with the kids-- at least that was the plan. “It’s okay, just go.” Link insisted, he was curled up onto the couch, two thick blankets covering his body and he was sweating. “I’m not letting this be the reason you miss Scout’s first Halloween.” Link came down with a flu the night before, a slight fever and nausea. Although he’d never admit it, he was a baby and as much as he wanted Amelia to stay home with him, he’d never tell her that. The wood burning in the fireplace was cracking, hot chocolate was being made, Halloween movies were playing on the television; a perfect night. Perfect aside from the fact Link was literally shivering while also having beads of sweat running down his forehead. “Link,” Amelia started. “You’re sick.” “I’ll bring Scout out with us,” Meredith offered. “He’ll be back in an hour.” She stood at the front door, Scout already in his pumpkin costume in a secure stroller, Zola with a pillow case slung over her shoulder because she wanted to get as much candy as she could. Bailey already had one foot out of the door and Ellis’ hand was gripped onto Maggie’s and she was jumping on the balls of her feet. “Can we go now? Can we go now?” Ellis begged, only tugging on Maggie’s hand towards the door. Amelia turned to Link, gave him a what should I do? face. She didn’t want to leave Link at the house by himself, and she most definitely didn’t want to miss Scout in a cute pumpkin costume on his first Halloween. “Okay, wait,” Amelia reached for her cellphone, pulling open the camera app before making her way over to Scout. “I need pictures before you go.” His head was slightly titled to the side, his cheeks chubby and he was sleeping. A drop of drool sitting in the crease of his cheeks, and Amelia’s heart melted. “You guys already have so many pictures.” Maggie laughed, remembering the night Link bought the costume and raced to put it on Scout to see if it fit, and when it was a perfect fit Link was taking hundreds of pictures and videos. “There’s never enough pictures.” The smile on Amelia’s face was genuine, it reached her eyes, you could see the happiness in her blue eyes and she just loved him so much. She can’t remember the last time she was this happy, or when the last time she was living such a perfect moment. “Let’s go! Can we go?” Bailey begged now, already grabbing onto the door knob and twisting it open. Zola followed, adjusting the fake stethoscope around her neck. Before Meredith could push Scout’s stroller through the front door, Amelia was leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on her sons face. “Have fun, baby. Daddy and I love you so much.” Scout was still asleep, and the other kids were already out of the front door before Maggie was pulling it shut, giving Amelia a wave before it was just the two of them. “You know you could have went with them.” Link said, his voice hoarse from getting sick and emptying out his stomach from earlier in the day. “I can take care of myself.” He was pulling the blanket up higher onto his body, as if the house was freezing even though it was warm, the fire burning in the fireplace. “I’ll make you some tea,” she ignored his request. “Or would you rather hot chocolate?” She was already in the kitchen and before Link could answer she was pouring him a warm tea. Minutes later she was making her way back, a hot chocolate for herself in one hand and a tea in the other. The Nightmare Before Christmas was playing on the television, a movie Zola picked for her and Uncle Link to watch while she was waiting for her siblings to get ready. Amelia was already sitting down on the couch beside Link, passing him his tea. “Thank you,” he said softly and wrapping his hands around the warm cup. “Amelia, you really didn’t have to stay.” “Well, it’s too late now. I’m here, I’m staying and we’ll watch movies, and hand out candy to trick or treaters,” she grabbed onto the end of the blanket Link was using to cover her legs up with it. “All while you rest. Sleep---get better.” “Well, some cuddles from you might just do the trick.” And Link was resting his head in her lap, the blanket covering both of them while Amelia’s hands were running through his sandy blonde hair, in hopes to relax him. The movie was only playing for ten minutes before she heard a soft snore come out of Link’s mouth, Amelia’s fingers still weaving through his hair, and he was sleeping. That was the goal, he needed to sleep. A new baby doesn’t exactly give them the most time throughout the night to get a full night’s rest, and Link being sick wasn’t helping. So she was going to let him sleep, even though she won’t be moving up from this spot on the couch until he wakes, and she didn’t really mind. The popping off the fireplace, the television on, kids laughter coming from the streets, Link snoring softly in her lap, and Scout was cute. These are the moments people lived for, these moments--- are the reasons she’s happy that she’s sober and that she’s happy she’s alive.

#amelink #amelia shepherd #greysanatomyfics #amelia #ameliafics #link x #amelia x link #atticus link #amelinkfics #stories

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teamhook · 4 years ago

Text

The Perfect Man :: Birthday Fic

Hello all! This story was written for the lovely amazing @searchingwardrobes for her birthday.

Story beta-ed by @ultraluckycatnd

FFN

AO3

Killian finds his way back to Granny's. The encounter with the three men has left him even more curious about Emma. She must be a special lass to have the attention and affection of so many men. Either that, or she was a siren, or perhaps she has bewitched them.

Killian is a perceptive man and he has a feeling in his gut that something is off. He had considered asking the men about Emma, but they had their hands full with their own issues.

Emma and the girls had finished practicing at the Blanchards’. Mary Margaret had gotten a call from David and they were getting all lovey-dovey. Emma left so they could have privacy, because there were things she never wanted to know about her brother.

She sits down on an old swing just taking in the scenery. She is having so much fun being Leo. She feels free; she doesn't have to be herself. Sometimes, the pressure from her family gets to her. David is the golden son. He is perfect and once he marries MM, his approval rate will be even higher. David’s currently away completing his training to be a Deputy Sheriff. That was one of the reasons she had agreed to date Sheriff Humbert, but that had not worked out. She knows the good Sheriff still has hope that she will come to her senses and give him another chance, but that is very unlikely. She misses both of her brothers and she hates feeling jealous of her brother James. She is so much more like him than David. She hopes to someday flee the little town just as he had. Small town, big hell. Her brother had craved to go out and conquer the world, so he left them behind and occasionally checked in, mostly with David; it must be a twin thing.

Then her thoughts traveled to Jones. She still has no idea why she flaked the moment she met him and gave him a fake identity. Once she realized who he was and why he was in town, she should have come clean and confessed, but her embarrassment clouded her mind. That, and he has very pretty eyes and luscious lips. She had gotten distracted by his looks. She has met good-looking men before, but there is something different about him. Maybe it was the fact that he appears to be well-traveled and experienced. She looks down at her watch. Perhaps if she goes home and changes quickly, she can finally apologize to him for making him travel to Storybrooke because of her dumb luck.

Killian was about to get ready for bed. His time in Storybrooke was coming to an end soon. Part of him is saddened by the thought, and the other part is upset because it appears Emma Nolan will remain a mystery. That thought surprisingly makes his heart hurt. There’s a soft knock on his door, one he almost misses. He can't imagine who it could be. The only people that know of him in the small town are the Nolan siblings. He opens the door and the first thing he sees is the most vibrant green orbs he had ever laid his eyes on. Long blonde wavy hair, with a dimpled chin graced by a hesitant smile on red full lips. He has seen many beautiful women in his life, but this one renders him speechless.

"Hello, I'm Emma Nolan." She pauses for a second. "Leo, my brother, passed on your message. I'm sorry you had to travel so far because of my very idiotic lack of attention. I was supposed to send an invitation to your family, not to cause any trouble. I'm sorry about Miss Blue as well. She can be difficult, but she meant no harm."

Killian raises his hand to pause her ramblings. "Lass, I'm sure it was an accident. However, my brother lacks any sense of humor. He is very uptight and an overbearing arse. Would you like to come in?"

Emma looks behind him and blushes as she notices the bed is ready for him. "Oh, no thank you. I just wanted to apologize in person. Leo said you were very nice, and I’ve been busy with school, and I wanted to come by earlier. I did, but I kept missing you."

"It's no problem. I'm sorry we had missed each other." He scratches behind his ear. "I stopped by your home earlier to chat with your brother, but I was told he wasn't home."

"Oh, yeah, did you want me to let him know?" Emma asks.

"Well, I would love to see him before I leave."

"Are you leaving so soon?"

He smiles. "I will be departing the enchanting town of Storybrooke in a couple of days. I just wanted to thank him for being so helpful."

She nods. "I will let him know." She winces. "I hate to ask, but would you please reconsider not withdrawing the support your family offers the school in donations because of my fault? That would help me avoid Miss Blue's bad side," she says as she works her bottom lip nervously.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Emma, I didn't mean it. I was upset and my mum would roll in her grave. She loved the school and this town."

"Oh, thank you. I already get on Miss Blue's bad side enough. I didn't need another way for her to be on my case. Thanks again. I will let Leo know and I'll let you rest. Goodnight Mr. Jones," Emma says as she turns to leave.

"Love, you can call me Killian." His bright smile makes her heart flutter.

Killian's final days in the small town his mother had grown up and left behind are spent with Emma Nolan showing him around in her free time. He is mesmerized by the beautiful lass and her free spirit which reminds him of his long-lost mum.

The night before he is set to depart, they spend it talking in his room with some room service and a subtle wink from Ruby in Emma’s direction.

“May I ask you a question, lass?” Killian asks as he is taking a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich, one he got at her recommendation.

“Sure, and you can call me Emma. I mean, you had to travel so far because of my fault,” she answers with a smile as she takes a bite of her fish and chips.

“Why write the letter?” He looks at her with curiosity.

She sighs. “I was thinking of the ideal man for me and for a brief moment, I had found him, but he was away from me.” She looks at him and shrugs.

He scratches behind his ear. “You are a beautiful lass and are clearly not lacking suitors.”

Emma looked at him with a high brow and tilt of the head. “Suitors?”

“Oh yes, a few nights ago, I went to your home to find your brother but instead, met three men outside arguing over you.”

Emma blushes profusely. “Ohh! But to get back to your question, I have yet to find such a man. I want something that seems to be unrealistic. Look, I have a pretty good idea of who you met. Each of those men has a quality I want, but not one of them has them all.”

He nods. “Emma, what are you looking for?” he asks curiously.

“I want… a man that will put the extra effort for me; that he lets it show I’m worth fighting for. He will be my best friend. We would be kindred spirits, open books. He will be romantic and full of passion. He will be mature and knows what he wants, and he won’t play games. He will be an adventurer and fun.”

“There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want,” he says.

“What about you?” She asks because she’s curious, and perhaps a part of her is hoping she has some of the qualities he is looking for.

He looks away from her for a second. “To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it in quite some time. In my younger days, I wanted a lot of the same qualities you do.” He cringes as he realizes that Milah is nothing like what he had pictured himself with in his youth.

Emma notices the change in him. “What’s wrong?”

“I just realized how much my fiance lacks those qualities. Don’t misunderstand me, she is not a completely horrid person, but she is not always the easiest person to deal with.”

Emma’s heart sinks at his mention of the fiance. “Oh, I’m sure she isn’t that bad if she managed to get you.”

“To be honest, we fell into the engagement because it seemed like the logical next step in our relationship.”

“But you must love her?” Emma asks.

Their food is long forgotten.

“I just figured that true love wasn’t in the cards for me but--” He pauses for a second. “Perhaps we should change the subject.” He can’t let his mind wander into that territory.

Emma agrees and their conversation returns to Killian hearing stories shared by Ruth about Alice. They laugh at their mothers’ antics. Soon the night comes and their time together ends as they part reluctantly, both upset at the fact that they will most likely never see each other again. As a last attempt to keep a connection with Killian, Emma reminds him that he and his brother are invited to the annual play production. He smiles and nods.

After leaving Killian’s door, Emma sits down at the diner. She asks Granny for a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon; she needs the little pick me up.

Ruby comes out of the kitchen with the cup for Emma and sits next to her. “Hey, stranger! So you have to tell me, how was he?”

Emma turns to Ruby confused. “Wait, what?”

“The hottie. You have been spending all your time with him for the last 48 hours or so and he is hot!” Ruby says as if it was the obvious conclusion.

“Nothing like that happened. Rubes, he is engaged.” Emma scoffs as she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry honey. I know you like him.” Ruby scoots closer and hugs her friend.

Emma sighs. “I didn’t even tell him the truth about Leo . I wanted to, but he had been so nice to me already. I don’t know, I just didn’t want him to not want to spend time with me. Oh my God, Ruby I’m horrible!”

“Ems, you are not horrible. I think you might have met your match, though.”

“Okay, let’s say you are right. What does that mean for me? He is getting married. He is going home to her .” Emma puts her cup down and gets up to leave the diner.

Once Killian finally arrives back home, he explains to Liam that the letter they received was all a simple misunderstanding. Liam asks if it was all a simple misunderstanding, then why did he take so long to come back. Killian simply answers that he wanted the connection to their mother to last longer, which is something that Liam can completely understand.

Milah was a different story. She was not happy with his absence, and made him aware of it. As she talks about wedding plans and how grandiose the wedding is going to be, he can’t help but feel his stomach drop at the thought of spending the rest of his life with her.

Liam has noticed a change in his brother since coming back from Storybrooke several weeks ago; the way Killian cringes when Milah touches him, or tries to show any form of affection. So he decides to confront him about the change in behavior on a night when they are enjoying a night out together.

“Brother, may I ask you something?” Liam asks as they sit down to have a drink.

Killian smiles. “Aye, what is it?”

“Since your return, you have been acting strangely. You seem distant all the time, but it’s much worse when you are with Milah. I don’t know how she can be so oblivious,” Liam says.

“I’m not acting any different. Liam, I honestly don’t know what you are getting at,” Killian says defiantly.

“Brother, you might be able to lie to that strumpet you are to marry, but not to me. I know you and I know for a fact there’s something wrong, and I have a strong feeling it has to do with that letter and the lass that wrote it.” Liam states and sighs. “Remember that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets .”

Killian stares incredibly at his brother. “What are you saying?”

“Isn't it obvious? End your relationship with Milah and go after your girl!” Liam says smiling.

Killian doesn’t think twice and goes to face Milah.

The conversation consists of Milah yelling and throwing things at him once he said the words: It’s over. I just don’t love you.

In Storybrooke, Emma has talked to her suitors to let them know that there is no chance in them ever working out. She has decided that after school ended, she will take a break and travel. She didn’t need a man to be happy, and needs to get out of the small town.

On the day of the play, her nerves start to get the best of her. Part of her hopes for a miracle that perhaps Killian will take her up on her invitation.

Miss Blue has been pleasantly surprised at the creativity of the girls and after Emma had informed her that the Jones donation was going to continue, she calmed down.

On his flight back, Killian can't contain his excitement, but he feels a moment of panic and uncertainty. What if she doesn't feel the same? He has replayed their interactions over and over again in his mind since the engagement with Milah was called off. He is certain that Emma feels the same way towards him. Their conversation about their ideal mate makes him think she does. It’s a risk, but she is worth it. He will win her over no matter how long it takes.

Once his plane descends into Logan Airport, his nerves pick up again. He feels like a bloody schoolboy. He has decided to stay in Boston and then drive to Storybrooke the night of the play to surprise her. He has a feeling that if he were to stay at Granny's, his presence will not remain a secret for long.

He had been doing some shopping when he spotted the perfect dress for her. It was a pale pink dress with a bodice that would hug her curves and the neckline would give a tasteful, yet modest, view of what was hidden underneath. He just knows he has to get it for her.

The day of the play, he arrives a tad late in hopes to stay hidden in the shadows to properly surprise her. The production is in full swing and his eyes find his friend Leo and smiles fondly. It had been obvious that the school went to great lengths to provide an exceptional performance. After the final curtain, Killian finds his way backstage where a stunned Ruby greeted him with a wide smile.

"Hello, lass. I'm looking for--" Killian is interrupted by the girl.

"Oh, you're here! I know why you are here, just head to the last room in the hall." She smiles and winks at him.

Killian follows her instructions. He knocks softly and opens the door once he hears the familiar voice telling him to enter. He looks around and notices the stalls used to change outfits. He approaches the closed stall.

Killian starts talking, "I couldn't possibly miss this production."

Emma stops dressing on the other side of the stall, her heart beating so fast. Without thinking, she uses her Leo voice. "I'm happy you made it... There's something I should have told you before, but I was afraid--"

"There's nothing to fear," he says and she feels a box he pushed under the stall touch her feet. She picks it up and opens it, finding a dress inside.

Emma laughs. "You knew? All this time?"

Killian simply answers, "I'm a perceptive man, love. But the performance tonight confirmed my suspicions."

"Why aren’t you angry at me? I lied to you," Emma says as she looks at the dress. "And the dress?" she asks, biting her bottom lip.

"I figured you would tell me in time when you were ready. I hope it's not presumptuous of me to hope that perhaps you would like to go on a date with me?"

There’s a brief quiet moment when the stall opens, revealing Emma wearing the dress with a smile on her face.

“You look-” Killian says, speechless.

“I know,” Emma says with a smirk. “And I would love to go on a date with you, but what about your engagement?”

He nods. “I broke it off because this amazing lass wrote a letter that helped me find what I truly craved; true love.”

She closes the short distance between them and pulls him to her in a crashing kiss, one filled with the emotion his words caused to overflow from her heart.

In the end, Emma goes through with her plans of traveling. The difference is she does it with a man that loves her and makes her the happiest she has ever been. All by following in her future mother-in-law to be's footsteps, leaving Storybrooke behind for her new home.

Taglist:

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38 @karlyfr13s @beckettj @chasedancer17 @lonelyspectator12 @batana54 @gingerpolyglot

#Captain Swan #cs birthday fic #searchingwardrobes #cs ff

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bangtan-madi · 4 years ago

Text

noel on ice — kim namjoon

Pairing — Namjoon x Reader, feat. minor mention of Jungkook x OC

Genre — fluff, holiday, minor angst, mental health

Tags — strangers to lovers, figure skater!Namjoon, barista!MC, non-idol au, figure skater au, café au, holiday au

Word Count — 16k

Summary — After sustaining a crushing defeat at the World Figure Skating Championships, falling from his perfect gold standard to his long-time rival, Kim Namjoon returns to South Korea with an unsure heart and accompanying injury. At the same time, Y/N is as far from home as she has ever been due to a falling out with her family, working as a barista at a café in Seoul while trying to finish her degree. As if by fate, the two meet, and Namjoon makes it his goal to make Y/N see the magic of the holidays -- one Christmas adventure across Seoul at a time.

Warnings — minor language, brief anxiety attack, mentions of ptsd related symptoms

A/N — This year has been a very difficult one for us all. For my fic in this Christmas collab, I wanted to acknowledge all of that and give a little mental health break for everyone. All of our experiences have been different, but one thing we all have in common is that 2020 was unexpected, painful, and heavy. Please, no matter what holiday you celebrate, let yourself have as much rest and healing as you need. If this little, probably-needs-more-editing-than-I-had-time-for fic can help you get there — even just for the twenty minutes it takes to read — then my job is done ❤️ I love you all, and I know I speak for the others when I say I hope 2021 treats us all so much kinder, and I hope we learn to love ourselves in spite of our worlds around us.

Playlist — Link here.

Christmas Collaboration — this fic is a part of the Christmas Collab by @kooala (link coming soon!)

"Hey—Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Raising your head slightly, your eyes widening as you realize you've zoned out again, focusing on the snowfall outside instead of the next customer in line. The woman waving her hand in front of you is as foreign to South Korea as you are, but her expression is entirely that of an angry American. Her scowl has etched deep lines into her skin, where smile lines should be.

Unfortunately, her face is all too familiar. Usually it pays to be one of the only native English-speakers at your café; however, when Americans come in, you're the one pushes to take their orders and serve them.

Even the most difficult ones.

"S—Sorry, Ma'am," you mutter. Shaking your head, you force a customer-service smile. "I was just admiring the snowfall. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh, yeah," she retorts sarcastically. "So beautiful that it's making travel home nearly impossible. Can you please just make my drink so I can leave?"

"I—I didn't hear it, Ma'am. Can you repeat it please?"

While the woman rolls her eyes, she repeats her order swiftly, muttering something along the lines of, "Baristas these days, I swear to god," under her breath. "Make sure to get it right this time. Every time I come in and order a blended cappuccino, you guys end up giving me a latte, which is not what I ordered."

"And every time, we have to explain that all a latte is, is a blended cappuccin—"

"—I don't want to hear it!"

With a sigh, you ring up the total for the "blended cappuccino, not latte" and let the woman pay. From the sidelines, your co-worker Lisa stands with a glare and a tin of heated milk ready to go for your order.

"Ms. Blended cappuccino again?" she asks as you turn towards her with a note written in perfect Hangul.

You nod, running a hand over your hair in frustration. "I hate being the only native bi-lingual person here. Means I get to deal with her every damn time."

Sensing your downtrodden spirit, Lisa pushes you out of the way, giving you a gentle shove towards the back room. "I got this one. Go take a breather in the back, okay?"

"But—"

"—Ah! No buts. I know enough English to get by."

From the front desk, the woman pipes up again, demanding her drink be made faster. Lisa marches past your, arms herself with the imaginary drink, and says in perfect English, "You're in Seoul now. Speak Korean."

Knowing Lisa can handle the absolute hell-spawn that is an angry American Karen, you turn your back to the drama and shuffle to the break room behind the "employees only" door. An exasperated breath escapes as you revel in the silence, pushing away the muffled café sounds on the other side of the door. Being the only one in the break room, you spot your favorite white chocolate mocha on the side table, with a smiley face sticky note indicating it's from Lisa beside it.

You smile gently at the sweet gesture, and shove the sticky note into your pocket as a reminder to yourself to thank her later.

Taking the mug between your overworked hands, you settle down on the window seat and watch the December sky slowly shift from violet to navy. The mocha is just slightly sweet with a hint of peppermint, just like you like it. It's almost enough to illicit the Christmas spirit lying dormant inside you.

There's something incredibly painful about this particular holiday season, you think to yourself as the cars pass swiftly on the street outside. The glittering lights, the beautiful carols, the crystalline snow — none of it feels the same as last year. The holidays are supposed to be a time of comfort and renewal, but this year — after moving halfway around the world by yourself — your heart is starting to wonder if that part of you has died.

Maybe it's the loneliness you're feeling, or maybe it's the fact that you're so far away from home. Or maybe it's the fresh-in-your-mind arguments and falling out with your family over the summer. That bitter taste lingers still in the back of your throat, not unlike a dark espresso. A Christmas season without your parents and siblings; you never thought living your own life and following your happiness could hurt so much. For better or worse, that nostalgic feeling family and friends bring is long gone. And now you're nostalgic for nostalgia itself; what kind of messed up feeling is that?

You've had twenty-four wondrous, magical holiday seasons. Is it part of growing up that your allotment of joyful Christmas days is limited?

Is twenty-five the year that the magic just...stops?

When the night sky becomes unchanging, the door to the café kitchen opens. Lisa peeks her head inside, side-bangs falling in her face. "How's the mocha? Did I get it right?"

You take the last sip with a grateful smile, then place the mug onto the coffee table. "You nailed it. Thank you, I needed that."

Pride swells in Lisa's chest, and her shoulders straighten as she enters the room. "Well, good news. Karen's gone," she announces, "and your favorite customer is here!"

"Who?"

Lisa places her hand horizontally at her hip-level. "About this tall? Loves peppermint hot choco?

Bolting from your seat, all your concerns are momentarily gone. Your co-worker doesn't have to utter another word to get you to exit the back room and reenter the kitchen.

Across the counter, a mop of black hair is barely visible. Dark brown eyes peer over the granite surface; they twinkle and shine at the sight of you. Tiny hands splay on the surface in an attempt to make the small child taller. He's around seven to eight years, you estimate. Nine or ten at the very most. Definitely not out of primary school. And he's your very favorite customer, because unlike most, this child comes in with a toothy grin almost every single day with enough money for a peppermint hot chocolate. He's never late, and he's never unhappy. If the Sun were to bless the world with a ray of sunshine in human form, this kid would be it.

"Ahjumma!" the little boy shouts, a grin plastered on his face.

Instead of having him crane his neck, you walk around the counter, bend down on one knee, and ignore the other customers behind him. Pulling one of the tiny baked goods from your apron pocket, you offer the sweet to the child with a wink.

"You're here awfully late, Yeongu. You're usually here right after school lets out. It's already after dark."

Yeongu digs through his pocket and pulls out several crumpled won, enough for his beverage of choice. "Tomorrow is the last day before Christmas break, so dad picked me up and took me skating. I'm with mom and her boyfriend for the rest of the month 'cause Dad's going to Busan with his new wife. I don't like her that much. She frowns too much. And she smells like soju and taffy."

You exchange the won for the baked treat, laughing softly as you invite the boy onto the corner table nearest the hot chocolate machines. "You don't like taffy, do you?"

He makes a face and takes a big bite of the delicacy. "My teacher tells us that if we eat taffy, it will help us remember things. I ate too much of it last year, and now I hate it. Dad's new wife must always be forgetting things, because she always smells like it!"

After finishing the simple drink, you slide the mug across the table and plop down in the seat across from the small boy. "So does this mean I won't get to see you until after Christmas?"

Yeongu shakes his head. "I'll be by tomorrow after. Mom wanted to visit my cousin before we left. He's back in town for Christmas, and we haven't seen him in a long time."

"Oh? What does he do?"

"Sports."

At that, the boy changes the conversation. "What are you doing for Christmas, Ahjumma?"

"Yeah, Ahjumma," Lisa pipes up after serving the final to-go customer for the night. She flips the sign on the front door and turns back to the two of you, hand on her hip. "What are you doing for your first Christmas in Korea?"

Shrugging slightly, you turn your attention back to the small child across from you. "I'll probably spend the day with Mochi — my cat — probably studying so I'll be ahead in the new year for my next classes." Lisa gives an empathetic look at the mention of your kitten, which causes you to roll your eyes playfully. "Don't give me that look! I'll be fine. Probably best for me to have a relaxed, non-hectic couple of days. This year has been a rough one."

"That sounds sad," Yeongu states bluntly, earning a snicker from Lisa.

"Kid's right. Absolutely dreadful, [Y/n]. What a lame Christmas."

"What about you, then? Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

At the question, Lisa's smirk drops and she perks up. "Well, I'm sure you know, but Christmas in Korea is pretty different from America," Lisa reminds you, and you nod your acknowledgement. "It's more of a couple holiday, so my boyfriend Jungkook and I are planning to take the week off and do a ton of holiday activities together. Mostly outdoors stuff. Y'know, snowboarding, skiing, snowball fights — the usual."

"Sounds like a blast," you laugh.

"Oh, it will be." She gives a wink, then nods to Yeongu. "Are we about done here? I need to head out if you're okay with locking up for the night."

You give a wave of approval as the child nears the end of his glass. "I got this. Say hello to Jungkookie for me."

Lisa flashes a set of extravagant finger hearts before disappearing into the back, where she gathers her personal items and exits out the rear entrance. In her absence, Yeongu tugs on your sleeve and holds up an empty mug.

"Thank you for the hot choco, Ahjumma," he grins, showing the dark stain on his upper lip.

Taking the mug, you use the edge of your apron to clean the mess from his face. "If you come by tomorrow before you leave with your Eomma, I'll make you another with extra peppermint, okay?"

The boy's smile grows, and he hops up from the table with a swift bow. "I'll be here!" He heads for the door with a skip in his step.

"Will you get home all right?" you call after him.

Yeongu turns and grins. "I will, don't worry, Ahjumma!"

And then he's gone, out the door in a rush of energy and giggles towards his home nearby. You merely shake your head; there's no point in going after him now.

Soon after, you're following in his step. It doesn't take you long to clean up. By the time you lock up and exit out the back, snow has begun to fall. You brave the cold, tugging your coat tighter around you, burying your face into your scarf. The journey to the subway is short, and your feet take you quickly. Even still, you stare upward at the snowy clouds in hope that they might spark a semblance of Christmas joy in your heart.

Tonight, like every other night, nothing changes.

You heave a sigh, and the breath billows out as a visible fog as you enter the station. Going through the motions to get to your apartment is easy. A swipe of a card, a short ride to the edge of the neighborhood, and a trek up the set of stairs. Once through the door, you're greeted by a mewing shadow of a cat.

"Hi, my baby girl," you greet with a soft smile, bending down to scratch the tiny fur ball behind the ears. The black cat rubs her chin against your palm and follows you when you waltz to the kitchen. "You hungry?"

As if responding, "Yes!" Mochi speeds up and meows a bit louder than last time.

Her antics bring a smile to your face as you turn on the television for background noise. You find the nearest Korean news station, finding the program in the middle of a report on Korea's favorite rap duo and their upcoming tour: Suga and J-Hope. Your intention with the selection is two-fold — first, to continue to enhance your skills of the Korean language, and two, to continue learning about the culture and world of your new home. While you had extensive knowledge of both before moving to Seoul — despite the process being rather quick due to the fallout with your family — nothing compares to being immersed in the country itself.

As the musical entertainment section ends, you begin pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cupboard. "What do you think sounds good, Mochi? How about teokbokki?" The black cat perches her paws on your right leg, purring pleasantly. "I agree, sounds great after a long day."

You toss a bag of rice cakes onto the counter as the news changes to sports. Even as you prepare the sauce for the meal, you actively listen to the voices in the background.

"Unfortunately, RM Nam's ice skating season has been cut short due to an unforeseen injury he sustained during practice this summer. At the time, the damage to his shoulder seemed unnoticed by the athlete and his coach. However, as we saw earlier this October at the Grant Prix Series: Skate America, Mr. Nam's mishap on the ice turned out to be far more damaging than originally thought. Thus, the position representing South Korea at the next in the series, Skate Canada, was shifted to his rival, Kim Seokjin, and RM Nam returned home to Seoul to recover."

You can't but help a glance up at the screen. The skater in question has his back turned to the cameras as he heads into the airport. Behind his sunglasses, mask, and beanie, he offers a polite smile and wave to the reporters. Moments later, his coach guides him into the building, out of sight.

"That doesn't sound fun," you mutter to yourself as the report moves onto politics.

After you finish cooking, you plate yourself a portion and move into the living room. Besides the tiny tan sofa and the television propped up on a box, most of the room is bare. There are a handful of boxes strewn across the apartment of the few things you either had shipped from the States or that you bought in your six months since then, but for the most part, you've been putting off all of it. Most of your time is spent at work or at school; you haven't had the time, energy, or motivation to do any of it. Even at Christmas, despite Lisa gifting you with your very own tiny tree and twinkle lights to spread across the home, you've yet to unpack any of it. The tree remains in the slender box beside the TV, and you doubt it will go up this year at all.

Heaving a sigh at the thought, you turn the channel to VIKI put on your favorite drama. This particular one is a reincarnation plot with two male leads played by Korea's golden boys: Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. Paired with the bowl of teokkboki in your lap and the kitten curled to your side, it's enough to drag you thoughts out of homesickness and back to the present.

This might just have to be the Christmas you forget and hope that the next year is a kinder one.

A lot changed in your life this year. In some ways, the changes were good. In others, not so much. Most of the turbulent times were in the heat of the summer, but things began slowing down once you moved to South Korea in September. You were now away from toxic family members, away from a life you never wanted, and looking ahead to an uncertain but certainly hopeful future.

In late October, the seasons began changing for the better — and not just in the physical sense of the falling leaves and cooler breeze. Lisa was right about your favorite customer; it truly was little Yeongu. However, there was another that you looked forward to seeing, just as much as the elementary school boy.

This person was older, around your age, with a deeply dimpled smile that made your stomach flutter. Eyes as slender as his body proportions, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't an attractive man. Hair the color of the snowflakes he walked through, eyes the color of the beverage he'd always order, skin the color of warmth in a cozy fireplace. Even his voice was warm and deep; at every conversation, while you are completely fluent in Korean, you find yourself just wanting to listen to the soft timbre.

Over time, this man — whose name you'd quickly learn was Kim Namjoon — became a regular at your little coffee shop. He'd come in at the oddest hours, either super early or super late. Hours you often worked alone, when there were fewer customers. Every time, he'd strike up a conversation as you took his order and crafted his beverage of choice (a heavy coffee brewed dark and bitter, with just a splash of cream and almond whip.) He was sweet, and eventually you opened up. He'd hang around the counter long after the transaction was completed, sometimes until another customer stole your attention away. It didn't take long for you to realize that he was far more than merely a pretty face.

In those weeks leading up to December, you found yourself smiling a bit more. Joking a bit more. Shoulders lightening a bit more. You looked forward to the increasingly insistent days where he'd waltz in — sometimes covered in raindrops, sometimes in crisp leaves, sometimes in snowflakes — always a crystal blue umbrella under his arm and a charcoal grey scarf around his neck.

It's the same person standing at the entrance now, the man currently shaking the rain from his umbrella and platinum locks. Lisa gives you a smirk as she nods her head towards the register and steps away from the counter, as if silently saying, "You're up, m'lady. Holler if you need me; I'll be doing an order in the back."

You brush your hair back into proper place, display a genuine smile, and take your stance behind the register. When Namjoon's eyes meet yours, his smile deepens and creates dimples on either side of his mouth.

After the customer in front of him pays and leaves with his order in hand, you greet him with a simple, "You haven't been in, in over a week. Finally trying to break your caffeine addiction?"

Namjoon gives a deep laugh and shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. I like being able to function as an adult in society, thank you very much." He pulls out several won from his wallet. "I'll have..."

"The usual?"

He cocks an eyebrow. "You remember?"

"Of course," you grin, and type his drink of choice into the register. Taking his money, you add, "How could I forget your order after the hilarious reaction when I suggested a mint mocha?"

The boy thinks back to the first day he walked into the café, and recalls that conversation with a groan. "Oh god, was I that bad?"

Handing him his change, you tap your chin and reply, "Well, maybe a bit. I'd never seen someone so horrified at the idea of mint chocolate."

Namjoon rubs the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "Sorry about that. Pretty terrible at hiding my disdain for that flavor combo."

"No worries! Made me laugh."

Seeing that there are no other customers behind him, you turn to the brewing station and usher Namjoon to take a seat on the bar stool across the counter. It's a position you've taken several times before. When the customers are low, as they are at this hour of evening, the platinum-haired man tends to linger and converse far after his drink is finished.

"What brings you in today? Just wanted a pick-me-up or?"

Namjoon heaves a sigh. He watches you closely but casually, silently admiring the skillful way you begin to brew the dark beverage. "I've had a lot on my mind lately, and coming here always helps me de-stress."

"Coffee helps you relax?" You can't help but chuckle at the sentiment.

"And the company."

Heat rushes to your face, and when you glance up to meet his gaze, the warmth only increases. "You're smooth, Kim Namjoon. Very smooth."

Brown eyes widen, and he bows his head so that his bangs cover his eyes. "That's not what I meant at all!"

"Calm down, you're fine. Wanna talk about what's on your mind, though?"

In all your conversations, the two of you have only ever talked on the shallow surface of various topics. You don't know much about Namjoon, and he doesn't know much about you — despite having shared extremely vague information about your year, your jobs, and your education. You feel very open with him, but most of the time, those conversations can't be had in a fifteen minute discussion at a café.

"It's a long, complicated story. I'm not sure you'd wanna hear it." He raises his hands defensively as he realizes how his words might be construed. "Not that you wouldn't understand! I just wouldn't want to be a downer."

You select the cold brew setting on the machine and let the device begin to whir to life. "Well, I've got at least the time it takes to make your drink. I'm all ears."

Namjoon shakes his head as he settles his elbows on the counter. "You're persistent."

"Honey, I've been called far worse."

Seeing your eagerness, your companion heaves a sigh and shifts his gaze from you to the window at his right. As be begins to speak, his demeanor falls a bit. He's not as happy-go-lucky; there's an err of anxiety about him that you can't quite nail down. "I've been thinking about a change in career recently. Things haven't been unfolding this year like I wanted...and I'm starting to think I'm not meant to do what I'm doing now. Maybe I need to retire — from this industry, I mean, and move on to another."

Even with that small confession, you can't help but mirror his emotions. "I hear you. I've felt similar feelings this year."

His gaze shifts back to yours, and he tilts his head in surprise. "Really? How so?"

"I told you I moved to Seoul in September, right?" Namjoon nods. "That's because I wanted a...a fresh start. I enrolled in Yonsei University, got a job here, and just...moved."

"That's pretty brave, and that's really awesome you're at Yonsei. They're a fantastic school."

"Thanks," you grin whilst popping the canister of cold brew out from under the brewing machine. "I needed to get away from certain people in my life that weren't letting me move forward, so moving was the best choice." You pour the dark beverage into a small mixer and pull out the vanilla creamer. "Sure you don't want mint this time? Last chance."

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow as a silent challenge; the expression makes you giggle to yourself as you pour the very non-mint add-ins. "Hilarious."

"Hey! Just offering." After giving the mixture a whisk, your smile falters.

Nothing gets by the observant person across the counter. "I feel like your story has a 'but' after what you ended with."

"You're good," you reply, gesturing to him with the handheld whisk. "I'm not talking too much, am I?"

Namjoon shakes his head adamantly and flourishes with his hand for you to continue. "I mean, we're practically friends now. Please, go on."

Reassured by both his calming nature and genuine interest, you continue talking. "But after getting here...let's just say it's hard to make friends and get out there in a country where you look so different, where your language isn't native, and where you know literally no one. So...ah, this year's been a pretty lonely one, and I know I still made the right choice, but now that the holidays are here..." You trail off and offer a small smile. "All that to say, I know what it's like to second-guess yourself and not have things go the way you thought."

"Seems we have a lot in common," he chuckles, leaning his chin on his hand.

The comment causes the mood to lighten, and you let a laugh slip out. "Yeah, seems so."

Before the conversation can continue, the front door opens. Yeongu enters, a couple of other customers behind him. As if on cue, Lisa enters from the back room and greets the adults with a smile and a swift, "Hi, welcome! What can I get you this evening?"

As the child approaches the adjacent counter where you stand, his grin widens. You perch your elbows on the counter and lean over. "How's my favorite customer?"

"I'm finally free from school, Ahjumma!" Yeongu cheers loudly.

"Congrats! I'm sure you're relieved." He nods affirmatively. "t's freezing outside. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I promise. But can I get a mint hot choco?" He holds up a crumpled bill with a toothy grin.

"Of course, you can. Extra mint, just like I promised." You nod towards the seat closest to the window. "Sit in your usual spot, okay? After I get this nice man his coffee, I'll get your hot chocolate."

As Namjoon turns to look at the child, Yeongu's eyes widen in surprise. "Namjoon-hyung! I didn't know you were here."

Much to your shock, Namjoon reciprocates the affection and hops down from his chair to bend down to Yeongu's level. "Yeon-ie!" He teases the boy by ruffling up his hair, which Yeongu scowls at him for.

"Um... You two know each other?"

"Yep!" Yeongu grins. "He's my cousin, the one I told you about yesterday."

"Oooh, that makes sense. Didn't realize my two favorite customers were related."

Yeongu laughs at the comment and hops into the chair beside Namjoon. "But I'm your favorite customer, right?"

"Of course," you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Ahjumma, can I please have mine in a to-go cup? Mom told me to come right home so we can finish packing for our trip."

"Of course, give me just a second to get you a lid." You turn to your first customer with an apologetic smile. "Namjoon, I'm almost done with yours. Just give me a moment."

"Actually, do you mind putting mine in a to-go cup as well?" He jerks his thumb towards Yeongu. "I should probably walk him home. He lives just around the corner from me. I'd feel better if I did."

"Oh, sure, I can do that."

"Would you walk with us, Ahjumma? Pleeeease?"

Your gaze moves to Namjoon. "Do you mind?"

The elder cousin hops up from his chair, shaking his head adamantly. "Not at all! Can you?"

"Sure, I'm about at the end of my shift anyway! Let me grab my coat. I'll come with." You turn quickly to Lisa, murmuring, "Can you watch—?"

She cuts you off with a wave of her hand. "—Go! I can close up for the night. But if you don't come back with a date planned, the invitation to spend New Years with Jungkookie and me is rescinded."

With a playful eye-roll, you peck her on the cheek and run to the back for your coat. Once you return, you find Namjoon scuffling Yeongu's dark locks with a dimpled smile. Looking back up as you return, the expression doesn't falter.

"Ready?"

You nod and follow behind through the exit, trying to ignore the wink and dual thumbs-ups Lisa flashes you as you pass.

Once on the street, Yeongu walks ahead of you and Namjoon. The first few minutes are silent between you two. From ahead, you can hear the small child talking to himself, or perhaps his hot chocolate, and then occasionally to the adults.

As you cross the busy street, Namjoon clears his throat. "So...you have any plans for Christmas?"

You scoff under your breath and shake your head. "Why does this topic keep coming up?"

"Hope I didn't offend," he laughs. "Yeongu said something about a café girl not having plans last night. I figured it was you."

"Trust me, you're good. But yeaaah. Kinda new to Korea. I spent the fall settling in and trying to start over. Between work and school, didn't expect much. Holidays sneaked up on me, I guess."

There's a pause as the trio rounds the corner. Yeongu finishes his hot cocoa along the way and hands the empty cup to Namjoon. The elder doesn't even hesitate to take it, and the boy rushes ahead to what you assume is his home. Over his shoulder, he shouts, "Thank you for the choco, Ahjumma!"

You grin widely and wave. "You're welcome!"

Yeongu turns to Namjoon, sticks out his tongue in a playful manner, then disappears into his house.

"Aaand that's the thanks I get." Namjoon rolls his eyes and turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention as the sun sets behind Seoul Tower. "I have a crazy idea."

"Oh, really?" You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. "Those are my favorite kind of ideas."

"Cheesy," he grins. "Well...I don't have any plans either. Maybe we spend it together?"

"No plans, huh? Do I look that pitiful?"

"No! No, it's not that at all, god." Namjoon's smirk falls from his face as a horrified expression drowns out any humor. "Sorry if that's how it came off. I just—You seem really nice, and it's been a while since either of us just enjoyed someone else's company. No strings. No pressure."

Tugging your lower lip between your teeth, you shuffle in your step. "I don't know, Namjoon..."

"Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I hate to see anyone's shoulders so heavy in December. How about this — give me three days to prove the magic isn't lost."

"Three days? That's it?"

"That's it."

"Okay then, Mr. Kim." You offer a hand in his direction. "Three days."

Namjoon's eyes lock with yours, as does his hand. "It's a deal."

The following weekend you wake to a phone call coming in from your recently-added number. Rolling out from under the covers to grab the device from the nightstand, you answer with voice still groggy with sleep. "Hello?"

"Are you still sleeping?" the caller laughs in a deep timbre.

"Shuddup." Peaking an eye open, the time on the screen reads just after eleven a.m. "It's not that late."

"Really?"

"Did you call me just to make fun of my lack of healthy sleep schedule, or did you have a point?"

"Ouch!” Namjoon exclaims playfully. “I actually did call, and it's actually perfect because I don't need you ready to go until around three this afternoon. So you can totally just go back to sleep."

You curl back under your heated blanket and revel in the warmth it provides. Beside you, Mochi curls closer, nearly sitting on your head. "Mmm sounds perfect. Wait—what?"

"You heard me." There's a hint of teasing in Namjoon's words. "It's Day 1. Be ready for an outdoor adventure by three. I'll pick you up then, okay sleepyhead?"

The butterflies rumble in your stomach at the nickname, and you clear your throat before replying. "Yep, got it. Three p.m. Outdoor adventure. Can't you tell me what it is or where we're going?"

"And ruin the surprise? No way. Just trust me, Jagi."

A squeak slips out, and you throw your hand over your mouth to hide it. "Okay, see you there—I mean then!"

You can almost hear Namjoon shaking his head as he says his goodbyes and ends the call. Despite still being sleepy and warm and cozy in your nest, you lie wide awake in bed for the next half-hour, replaying his voice over and over in your head like a well-loved record.

The day flies by, and eventually it's approaching three. You've dressed to impress while still trying to keep it casual. Despite this being a date, it's still casual. You like Namjoon a lot, and you hope he likes you as well. However, outside of conversations at the café, you haven't spent a lot of time together yet. This is as good a second-first impression as any, and you intend to make the most of it.

Grabbing your winter coat and scarf, you scurry down the stairs and spot Namjoon lingering by the entrance with two cups in his hands. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater with a dark grey jacket over top, his usual scarf looped twice around his neck. A beanie covers his head, but bits of his platinum hair still stick out in places. Slung across his shoulder is a brown leather backpack. He always looks nice, that much you know, but the fact that today he looks nice for you makes you sickly happy.

He flashes a smile as you bound out the door. "You look rested," he teases, then offers you one of the cups.

Taking it with a nose scrunch, you look down at the order on the side, seeing that it's your usual order. "How did you know!"

He shrugs. "I have my ways."

"Was it Lisa?"

"Maybe..." He straightens up and nods his chin towards the nearby station. "Follow me for our first adventure!"

After boarding the train to Itaewon, you can't help but wonder where he might be taking you. Your mind goes through all of the things to do in Itaewon, but the list is lengthy. From his excited and proud expression, you know Namjoon has been looking forward to this all day, just as you have.

After exiting fifteen minutes down the line, Namjoon reaches for your free hand. "May I...?"

Your fingers close the distance, glove-covered palm clasping his. "Lead the way."

Namjoon grins, then tugs on your hand as you exit the station. Once outside in the frigid air, you see your breath come out in puffs of fog. You tighten your scarf around your neck and allow your companion to usher you down the sidewalk, towards a clearing in the colorful buildings of Itaewon-do.

Another block or so, and you see the direction in which he's heading. A large sign along the way reads, "Grant Hyatt Seoul Ice Rink" in bold Hangul. Your eyes widen as the realization hits you, and the excitement inside you grows. "How did you know I've wanted to go ice skating!"

Namjoon shuffles up to the ticket counter, replying over his shoulder, "Um...lucky guess?"

As he purchases your tickets, you take a moment to absorb your surroundings. The trees are glowing from the lights covering every branch and trunk. They surround the rink and give a glow from within that is so much softer and more intimate than the harsh lighting of the city. The Hyatt Hotel stands as a black silhouette against the horizon. In the opposite direction, you can see N. Seoul Tower already lit up as the afternoon lighting shifts to evening. Projectors shine shapes of glittering snowflakes across the ice, giving another layer of ambient lighting to the rink.

"I haven't been since I was a kid," you add, staring at the exterior of the open-air rink with awe. Namjoon hands you the ticket, which you use for entrance and skates before shoving it into your jacket pocket. "Have you ever been before?"

"Yeah, a...few times. Hey, what size shoe are you?" When you tell him, Namjoon grabs a pair of skates from the shelf beside the ticket booth and gestures for you to sit on the bench across from it. "It can be tricky to lace your skates properly," he commentates as he kneels down in front of you and begins to untie your boots. "It's really something you have to adjust yourself, so let me know when I'm close?"

Not having any words to respond at his sudden closeness, you nod the affirmative and watch in silence as he puts one boot to the side, slips the skate on with ease, and begins to adjust the laces like a professional. After repeating the movements with your other skate, he taps your knee and looks up at you.

"Too loose? You want them to be as tight as you can handle to keep your ankles steady."

Moving your feet, you shake your head from side to side. "A bit more. I'd hate to have Day 1 turn into a trip to the E.R."

"Definitely, nothing says ‘Christmas magic’ like an emergency room visit," he laughs, adjusting your laces as you requested. "How's that?"

"Much better, thank you."

After lacing up your skates as tight as you can handle, Namjoon stands and offers you an arm. He helps you waddle over to the entrance, gently sliding you onto the ice despite your shaky knees and flailing arms. You soon realize that it might be best to hold tight to the barrier and stick only to the periphery.

He doesn't follow you on at first. When you turn and look back for him, he waves you on. "You go ahead. I need to grab my skates first."

"Mmm fine, but if I break my neck trying to catch your ass, you're paying for ramen after. Got it?"

Namjoon gives you two thumbs ups as he lets you go onto the ice. "Loud and clear."

Eventually, you begin tugging yourself along, trying but failing to keep up with the traffic of more experienced skaters. Even compared to those half your age, or even less, you're the child on this rink.

About half-way around the rink, you spot Namjoon making his way towards the entrance. Waving your hand, your smile widens when he sees you. He waves back, nearly bumps into the person ahead of him at the gate, and you murmur to yourself, "This should be good."

Namjoon hits the ice. He's not like the barreling disaster you are, but like a graceful swan. It catches you off-guard; if anything, you expected him to fall flat on his face or tumble over a child on his way over to you on the opposite side. He needs no assistance from the railing, nor does he struggle to cross the center and come to a full stop in front of you. His skates make a graceful scraping sound, and his stance is one of a professional. Even his skates are different than yours; they're custom, and you realize that must've been what he was carrying in his backpack.

You assume the awestruck look on your face is the reason for his smirk and laughter. He does a spin for dramatic affect as he closes the distance between you. "Surprised?"

"For starters! How the hell are you so graceful? You're literally twirling around on one foot on a frictionless surface, and I can barely make a left turn!"

The platinum blond gives you a look like you're still missing the point, then extends his hand. "C'mon, I can help you more than the railing can."

"Promise not to sue me if I break your face by crashing into you?"

"Promise, now grab my hand and skate!"

Your hands in his, you take the leap of faith and separate from the barrier around the oblong rink. Namjoon slowly skates backwards, carrying you the whole way. Your eyes remain glued to your trembling feet, careful not to have the blades deviate too far out to one side or the other.

"Look at you!" he cheers, ever the positive one. "A whole two minutes on your feet."

"Shut up."

You won't deny that your progress surprises even you. Despite having to hold both his hands for the first ten minutes, then eventually one as you skate side-by-side for the following half-hour, you're more adept at skating than you thought you would be.

"You think you can try on your own for a lap?" he inquires.

Giving a hesitant nod, you let go of Namjoon's hand, saying, "Don't leave my side, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Taking a deep breath in, you push one skate out in front of the other and move yourself forward. The other follows after, and you get about twenty feet before you stumble and nearly fall face-first. Luckily, Namjoon keeps his promise and wraps his arms around your waist before you crash.

"Good try!" he exclaims, keeping his arms around your middle even after you regain your balance. "You got pretty far, actually."

You give an awkward chuckle and lay your nervous hands over his at your hip. "Maybe I'm not quite ready for a free-skate yet."

"No worries." He lets his arms drop and retakes your hand to steady you. The dimples appear next to his smile as he adjusts your beanie on your head, which had nearly fallen off in your almost-fall. "But I gotta say, you didn't have to fall for me on Day 1."

"So smooth!" You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a playful shove, only to gasp and reach back for him when he naturally skates backwards at the push. "Nevermind, I take it back. Please don't leave me in the middle of the rink."

Namjoon lets out a loud laugh, nearly doubling over as you cling to him. "You're so cute."

As you skate together, you keep getting the feeling that Namjoon has spent far more time on the ice than you previously assumed. After you get the hang of it yourself and are able to wobble along beside him without a constant hand to hold, he smiles a proud, wide smile.

"See? I knew you could do it!"

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Still nowhere near close to you."

"That's what a lot of people say," he brushes it off.

"Way to brag there, Joon," you snort, then immediately freeze in place so suddenly that you nearly fall over again. "Wait—you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

Namjoon's smile shows his dimples, and they deepen with his reply. "Not a bit." The song changes, playing the symphonic piece "Noel on Ice." Namjoon's face lights up, and he turns back to you with a wink. "Watch me?"

Nodding affirmatively, you release his hand and let him skate towards the center of the rink. His gaze remains on you as he spins to a stop in the middle, then turns his gaze downwards. Arms still at his sides, and his shoulders straighten. You await with bated breath for the next note.

The melody lifts, and Namjoon's arms follow suit. Piano notes drip across the chilled air, and the violin prompts an extension of his hands upwards. Then he moves, gracefully flowing from one movement to the next, as if this has been an ice dance built into his very being. The harp and cello urge him to move faster, spinning like a dancer across their stage.

Namjoon spins into the air, fully coming off the ice. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth out of fear, but he lands it with ease, shifting into his next series of steps like a professional. Flawless and practiced, he's caught the attention of everyone at the rink. As you look around, you see everyone else focused intently on the skater. Some even have their phones out to record. Not just one or two people, either; you see at least a half dozen with their cameras trained on Namjoon.

That in particular has you perplexed. Brows pulling together, you shift your eyes back to Namjoon. The piece is nearing its close, and he's moved back to the center of the ice. Twirling in place, he's moving like a spinning top. Always in a single place, so fast you can barely see, gracefully shaving ice under him so that snowflakes fall around him. He lowers, nearly sitting as he continues to twirl on one foot. The music grows to its crescendo. Slowly, he rises up and extends his hands towards the sky.

And then it hits you.

There's a reason why his face, his voice, and his presence is so familiar to you. You couldn't put your finger on it until just now, but the way he moves on the ice like he's the only one in the room — like it's a second home — brings you back to one of the first days you had in Seoul. That first day, at the Incheon Airport, the man you saw being bombarded with press and fans. Then again on the screens in the lobby of the immigration center. And again a few nights ago on the news.

RM Nam. South Korea's pride and joy, their greatest skater, the man bound for the Winter Olympics until a training injury earlier in the year put him out for the season. You're not into sports, but even you knew him by name and the tragedy that had occurred.

That legendary skater was the one in front of you now. He hadn't mentioned it, and you didn't suspect a thing until today. While definitely a shock, you can't help but be in awe of him even more. He isn't just good on the ice — he's like nothing you've ever seen.

As the music comes to a close, Namjoon skates to a halt. His spin finishes, and he ends with a ending pose bow. Clearly out of breath and shoulders heaving, his gaze shifts to you once again. Your smile widens, and you throw your hands up as you cheer. The others around you begin to clap, but you're by far the most enthusiastic one there.

Suddenly, Namjoon's persona returns to that of a shy and humble one. He bows again in the directions of the viewers, then scurries out from the center and back to you. Eventually, those around you begin to skate once more, ignoring the fact that one of the biggest sports icons in all of Korea is among them.

Namjoon runs a hand over his bleached hair, his smile sweet and his eyes a little nervous as he approaches. You shake your head in awe, letting a surprised laugh slip out.

"Okay, I see exactly what you're doing now. You suggested ice skating because you're Olympic-level! That's totally cheating, by the way."

Namjoon skids to a stop in front of you, as graceful as his takeoff. Without thinking, you reach your hand for his, which he gladly takes. "Figured it out finally, did you?"

"Call me stupid, but I honestly didn't see it until just now." You shove his shoulder with your free hand, only encouraging his teasing reaction. "RM: Guessing that's a stage name?"

He adjusts the beanie over his hair and gives an affirmative gesture. "Yeah, mainly to protect my privacy. Skating world can get pretty intense, sometimes."

You move your chin towards his shoulder, recalling that's where the injury occurred over the summer. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, totally okay. I go to PT a couple times a week. Mostly healed up, just can't compete for another few months. My coach has made me swear off skating until the New Year, but I figured it was worth throwing a little extra into trying to impress a pretty girl." He tilts his head to the side, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. "Did it work?"

Instead of responding verbally, you curl your finger towards you, a mischievous smile on your face. Namjoon lowers his head and skates closer to you. When he's within arm's reach, you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. A giggle slips out as his eyes widen and his cheeks flush.

"So... Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air and nearly falling over for the hundredth time that night.

Namjoon returns the chaste gesture to your temple as he helps you recover your balance. "Skate with me some more then?" he murmurs, adjusting your scarf around your neck with gentle fingers.

Your face hot and your stomach fluttery, you nod your response and loop your arm around his. "Only if you show me how to do that fancy twirl there at the end."

The idea has Namjoon laughing loudly. "That's my variation on the basic Scratch Spin, which took me about three months to nail perfectly in a routine."

"Then you'd better prepare to be here 'til February!"

After skating for hours, until both of you are exhausted and ready for food, Namjoon takes you to a nearby ramen shop that's close to the train station. It's a hole-in-the-wall, with less than five tables, but with ramen you're able to find a park bench and settle down there with your backs to the city lights and your eyes on the stars overhead. You each mostly in silence, just enjoying each other's company and the delicious food. You make sure to tell your companion how great the choice was, and you insist on coming back again soon.

After wrapping up the meal and seeing the late hour on your phone, Namjoon suggests you both start heading home. "Hate to have to take a bus at this hour instead of the last train," he snickers.

Fully in agreement, you let him take your hand again as the pair of you begin to walk back home. First on the train, then on the sidewalk the short distance to your apartment building.

As you turn the corner onto your short street, your apartment in sight, you rest your head against Namjoon's shoulder and sigh happily. "Thank you for today. It was just...magical."

"Christmas magic?"

You nod against his jacket, wistful and content. "Definitely."

Stopping outside your apartment, you turn towards him, not letting go of his hand. Namjoon gives you a content smile as he looks at you, one where his eyes glisten at his coming words. "Then I have a chance."

"At what?"

He reaches yet again for your scarf, moving it from around your lower face so he can cradle it in his hands. "Restoring your hope in the holidays, and your hope in yourself and your choices."

"Ooof, that's getting ahead of it, I think." You bite the inside of your cheek as a small tug of anxiety and sense of being lost pulls at the back of your mind.

But Namjoon is relentless in his pursuit, and for that you're grateful. "That's why I have two more days planned."

"Already?" you laugh.

"You bet!" he exclaims. "In fact, I'll pick you up at nine on Saturday, but don't wear a dress or skirt. Are you free then?"

"For you, absolutely."

His teeth show through his grin, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyebrows. The gesture is gentle and sweet, made even more so by the warmth of his hands on your cheeks through his gloves. Nevertheless, it leaves you breathless.

After a moment of silence, he pulls away and lowers his grasp, but you crave the contact as soon as he relinquishes it. He nods towards your apartment, as if saying, "I'm not leaving until you're home safe."

You take the hint and give a tiny wave as you enter your building. "Have a great night, Joonie," you whisper through the cracked door. "And thanks again."

Namjoon waves back. "Goodnight, [Y/n]. Sleep well."

Saturday can't come quickly enough. You find yourself smiling more often, a joyful feeling in your heart as you go about your work shift and college classes. Even the smallest and insignificant things feel a little easier. The weather wasn't just cold anymore; it was full of beauty and hope and Christmas spirit.

Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe he was helping you turn a corner.

Right before you're ready to head downstairs to meet Namjoon at the entrance, your phone begins to buzz. Lit up on the screen is an international number, but the area code is that of your old home. The butterflies of excitement die almost instantly, shriveling up into tiny balls of anxiety in your stomach.

Even though you ignore the call, you can't resist listening to the voicemail left behind. Putting your phone on speaker, you're shocked to hear your mother's voice wishing you a Merry Christmas, saying that she and the family miss you, and that they wished you would visit so you could clear up everything that went wrong over the summer. Your throat constricts at the sickly sweet tone; her voice always did drip in honey when she wanted something, she she was trying to manipulate her child. Between her conniving control and your father's lack of respect for privacy and personal boundaries, you remember all over again why you left.

You jump as your apartment bell rings, and the small screen by the door shows Namjoon at the entrance. "[Y/n], are you up there? I texted twice...not sure if you got those."

Looking down at your screen, you see that he's right. You have two unread texts from the last five minutes that you missed due to the unexpected caller. Shaking yourself out of it, you shoot him a quick response, close everything out, and head for the ground level.

"There you are!" Namjoon greets with a grin that almost makes you forget your mother's call.

Almost.

Forcing a smile and reply, "Sorry, I don't know why I didn't see your texts."

"No worries." He waves his hand as if to say it's nothing to worry about. "Are you okay? You seem bothered about something."

You glance up at him, unable to deny he looks slightly concerned. You mirror his laissez-faire attitude and brush it off. "Totally good. Heading to the station?"

"Not this time." Namjoon gestures towards the bike parked by the corner of the building. "You ready to go?"

"Both of us, on that? Are you sure that's safe?"

"Oh yeah! Trust me." He kicks the stand down and mounts the bike, patting the extended seat behind him. "I once rode up Namsan Mountain with Seokjin on the back of this thing, and let me tell you, he's a hell of a lot bigger than you."

Knowing he's probably right, you settle yourself on the seat behind him and wrap your arms tightly around his middle. It's probably not the most well-balanced thing in the world, but you trust Namjoon more than you buy into your fear of falling. "No skirts or dresses, huh?"

"Now you get it," he laughs, pulling out onto the bike lane on the street headed into towards the older side of the city. "Unless you'd like a wardrobe malfunction."

He picks up speed and gets to an easy pace down the street. It's fast enough to get to your location speedily but slow enough that you're able to stare at the beautiful buildings and wondrous landscape around you. Even the people have an aura of happiness caused by Christmas. Had it always been this stunning? Or had you been blind to it until just now?

"Seokjin, as in Kim Seokjin, your rival?"

"So you do watch the news," he sighs. "They aren’t portraying us as friends these days, are they?"

You shake your head and rest your chin on his shoulder. "Not really. I didn't know you were friends."

Namjoon shrugs his shoulders slightly, his voice monotone. "Yeah, well, we've known each other since we were seven, got into skating together around that time, and have been friends ever since. While I wish I didn't have to sit this one out, I couldn't be happier to have him representing South Korea at the Worlds — sorry, that's what we call the World Figure Skating Championships."

"Yeah, they're kind of painting you as opposites."

"That's just what the news does, I guess. Gossip and tabloids and fan-wars. I fell on the ice and hit my shoulder pretty hard; it had nothing to do with Seokjin. He and I talked before I left, too. We're on good terms. Most of us from South Korea are friends, actually. We only get represented as enemies because it's a competition. But a lot of times we're on the same flights, in the same hotels, in the same training areas, you get the idea."

Namjoon pulls up to a stoplight at a near empty intersection, waiting silently for it to shift colors. "Is that what you meant by change of career?" you inquire.

"You're observant," he chuckles.

You turn to rest your cheek on his back. "For what it's worth, and keep in mind that I don't know the first thing about figure skating or your injury or anything like that, but as someone on the outside looking in, you're still so talented. Last week, when you were skating alone, I couldn't tell at all you were injured, and you looked like you were really enjoying it. I don't know if that means anything to you coming from a novice, but if you're still in love with skating and want to get back out there, I think you should go for it. You're still spectacular to watch, Joonie."

There's a beat of silence, but then Namjoon glances over his shoulder and winks at you. "Would you come see me perform live if I did?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you state, "Why not?"

He laughs at your silly expression, then begins to move the bike again as the light finally shifts. "That actually means a lot, [Y/n]. Thank you."

The rest of the ride is quiet, at least until you begin to hear the sounds of a bustling outdoor market. Namjoon turns the final corner, and you're elated with the stone street in an older part of Seoul. Vendors in various booths stretch out in every direction. Some sell food or drink, some sell trinkets or clothing, some even sell vintage books or vinyls or movies. Every nook and cranny has something special to offer. The sights, smells and sounds bring an enormous smile to your face as Namjoon steadies the bike to a stop beside the bicycle rack.

You hop off with his help, nearly bouncing up and down from excitement as he parks and locks his bike on the stand. "This is amazing!" Turning to him, you catch him off-guard with a tight embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him down to you.

Namjoon seems amused by your eager reaction, and he pulls you closer to him. "I thought you would like it. There's nothing quite like Christmas than a market."

After letting him go, you press a kiss to his cheek as you lower back down to your level. Namjoon's hands tenderly cradle your face, just like last time, only today he's glancing away from your eyes and down to your lips. As your heartbeat quickens, you pull him back to you, fingers grasping at his winter jacket.

His voice is deep and soft as he asks, "May I...?"

Your cheeks flush as you nod your approval. Namjoon's dimples deepen as he lowers his face to yours, barely brushing his lips against yours in the gentlest kiss you've ever had. You close the distance, tugging at his jacket so he moves closer. He gives a tiny laugh against your mouth, then follows your guidance to deepen the kiss. One hand slips back to your hair; he gently plays with the strands.

A moment later, and you're sighing as he pulls away, both light-headed and light-hearted. Namjoon smiles down at you, gives you a surprising second peck, then pulls back with a chuckle. "You're a really cute kisser, y'know that?"

You drop your head and hide your face in the front of his coat. "Shut up."

Your companion's laughter echoes in the air around you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and places his lips briefly on the top of your head. "Are you hungry? I know where we can get the absolute best Tteok-kkochi."

Eventually you lift your head and nod, feeling your stomach rumble at the thought of rice cake skewers. Namjoon moves his arm from around your shoulders, taking your hand instead, and ushers you into the first aisle of the Christmas market.

If it was magical from the outside, it's even more so from within. Somewhere in the distance, you hear holiday music playing. Not the commercial Christmas songs you're used to, but instrumental music that plays perfectly with the sounds of the market crowds. You're awestruck by every single booth you pass, and Namjoon promises to take you back to all of them after you grab a bite to eat.

Which are well worth the walk into the interior of the market. The Tteok-kkochi are cooked to perfection, drowned in a sauce, and by far the best you've ever had. Even after circling back to the booths you missed on the way, you beg Namjoon to lead you back to get another set.

"I've found heaven," you exclaim dramatically, taking the next two from the cook behind the counter and hanging one to your companion. "I'll never have rice cake skewers this good again."

After paying, you spot a section of the market decorated with lights and colorful orbs, much like the decorations you're used to seeing in the West. "Can we go over there next?"

Namjoon spots where you're pointing and eagerly agrees. The pair of you make your way towards the greenery and decor, amazed at the giant Christmas trees decorated to perfection on the periphery of the market.

"That's a massive tree," he gasps, staring upwards. "Are those normal in America?"

"Maybe at a mall or outside a hotel or something," you reply, equally as taken back. "I've never seen one that big in person in a long time."

As you peruse the Christmas section of the market, slipping from booth to booth as the clock strikes Noon, Namjoon asks, "Have you decorated your apartment at all? I know it can be kinda hard to find stuff in Korea like you're used to."

"Not really," you admit in passing. "Between work and school and, y'know, starting a new life in a foreign country, the holidays kinda fell on the back-burner."

Namjoon taps your shoulder, ushering your attention towards the old, American Christmas movies booth a few spots away. You gasp and rush over with renewed excitement, eyes scanning eagerly over the shelves. They have just about everything, from the classics like "It's A Wonderful Life" and "A Christmas Carol" to movies you grew up on like "Home Alone" and "Elf." The more you sort through the outdated DVDs, the bigger your smile gets.

"What's your favorite Christmas movie?" Namjoon asks, casually looking through the Christmas vinyls on the booth next to the movies.

"Without a doubt, Ron Howard's 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas.'"

"The one with Jim Carrey?"

"You know it!"

He laughs. "Yeah, my little sister and I watched it a lot when we were kids."

Your head perks up at the mention of a sister. "I didn't know you had siblings, either."

Namjoon nods. "Yeah, she's in college, too. Studying to be a psychologist."

"She sounds amazing."

"Yeah, the family is very proud. I know I am." He pulls out a vinyl for one of Frank Sinatra's Christmas records. "Do you have siblings?"

At the question, your gaze shifts back to the movies, hands preoccupied with finding the perfect one. "I do. A brother and a sister."

"Older?"

"Yeah..."

"What are they like?"

"A lot like my parents," you sigh, moving on to another shelf, turning your back to your companion. "Which is part of the reason I left, so..."

Namjoon senses your anxiety around the topic and rests a hand on your shoulder as he passes by. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize--"

You cut him off with a casual wave of your hand. "It's no worries, really." Spotting the record under his arm, you ask, "Find one you like?"

While he doesn't seem to buy your act, he lets the conversation go and holds up the vinyl for "Tales of Noel on Ice" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, as performed by the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra.

"You don't already have that one?" you gawk in surprise.

"I don't actually," he admits bashfully. "The title composition is one of my best free skate performances, and I have a record player at home, so why not?" He gestures to the movies. "Did you find one?"

"Oh, I don't need one! I was just looking. I don't even have a DVD player anymore."

"I do, so pick one out and maybe we can watch it sometime."

You shake your head at him, trying to subdue a chuckle. "A record player and a DVD player? You're so odd."

"But to your benefit," he reminds you with a wink, pulling out a single movie nearest him. It happens to be your favorite with Jim Carrey in all his hilarious glory on the front.

Cocking an eyebrow, you give a tiny round of applause at the luck of pulling that film out of all the others. "Well, you're going to have to invite me over sometime then."

"You can count on it."

For the next couple hours, Namjoon and you make your way through the entire market, hitting all the shops that interest and intrigue you. All the while, you talk about a plethora of things and get to know each other letter. For instance, you find out that he was born in Ilsan, not too far from where you are now, and that he hates seafood just about as much as mint chocolate. You also find out that he looks like his mother, who was the one that got him into skating to begin with. And to no one's surprise, Namjoon is actually very funny. Not only is he smart, athletic, and good looking — which alone would have caught your attention — he's got a wicked sense of humor to top it all off.

Likewise, he learns more about you. You tell him about the city you grew up in, the friends you had in high school, what you studied before you came to Korea. You tell him that along with your studies, you're really invested in writing and try to make time for that as well. It hasn't been so easy since the move, but you're hoping to get back to it in the new year.

As you approach mid-afternoon, and the final leg of the market, your phone begins to buzz. Your screen lights up with the same foreign number as before. Instantly, both your feet and your heart stop. Your shoulders tense up, and you turn to a blissfully unaware Namjoon, saying, "Hey, I gotta take this. You go on ahead."

"Are you sure?" he asks, the person in front of him not the same happy-go-lucky one as before.

You give him a nod of reassurance. "I'll catch up."

Before he can reply, you've turned and moved towards the massive Christmas trees, where there's an opening and the crowds are quieter. Despite what you told him, you don't intend on answering. Whoever is on the other end of that line, be it your mother or father or siblings, you want nothing to do with them. You do, however, want this to be over. You promise yourself to hear the message, block them, and then go run an errand after the holidays to get a new number.

After the call drops, you wait with an anxious feeling building in your stomach. Maybe they didn't leave a message. Maybe it wasn't your family after all. Maybe —

A soft ping alerts you that you have a new message. Selecting it, you raise your phone to your ear and hear your father this time. He repeats all of what your mother said, only with a layer of frustration and authority that she didn't use. He's borderline cruel as he spouts the same old lies that you're trying to unlearn; it's your fault, it's because of you, you're the cause of it. What it is, depends on the day. This time is has to do with your family not being the same and their world falling to pieces. He uses colorful sentences, well-crafted insults, but all you hear is blame, blame, blame.

Tears prick your eyes as the voicemail ends, and you realize you should've just deleted the message when you had the chance. A small part of you still hoped they would change, even after all this time, but you see now that it's not possible.

They will never change, and neither will you.

The pit of depression weighs down in your stomach, and loneliness tingles at the back of your throat. Why now? Out of all the times, out of all the days, why are you feeling these things now? You're out having an adventure with a man who you really like, and who you know likes you, in a city you now call home. You're far from any sadness or trauma or family or friends that once brought you down. You've left your past behind. You'd started to feel like there was hope in the holidays and in the future again, like the last year was worth the pain, like everything was starting to turn around.

But suddenly, that snake is wrapped around you again, pulling you back into old habits and old ways of thinking. It's grabbed on tight and is pulling you back into the dark, away from people you care about, away from people who care about you.

Even as you glance up at Namjoon a few stalls away, completely naïve to the painful flickers going through your mind, you feel the need to draw back. Pull away. Stay away. Go back to the security of the known, of the sad, of the lonely. It's warm and comfy, even if it hurts.

Clenching your fists, you try to silence the noise in your brain by shaking your head. The thoughts only grow louder, and the pit in your stomach gets heavier. You haven't felt a depressive episode like this in a long time. You thought they were long gone, especially now, especially with him...

"[Y/n]? Are you okay?"

Looking up, you see Namjoon's approaching you in the clearing. One hand carries the movie and vinyl he purchased for you both, but the other is outstretched towards you. While you don't pull away from his touch, you taste bile in the back of your throat.

"I—I need to go home," you mutter. "I'm starting to feel sick."

"Oh, okay, hold up I'll go get my bike and I'll take you home."

Feeling your breath quicken, you pull your gaze from Namjoon and nod shakily. The walk back to the bike rack is silent, even the crowd outside fades to a low background murmur. Namjoon places the purchased items in his bicycle carrier, then mounts it.

You follow suit, regret beginning to pile up inside you. Running isn't going to help anything, and you know he must be hurt and confused. But to you, the only thing you can do right now to protect yourself is get away from it all and go back to the place where you feel safest.

Tears burn your eyes as you curl up against him. Namjoon pedals speedily to your apartment, making the trip faster than last time. When he pulls up to the curb, you hop off without a word.

"Do you need me to walk you up?" he offers, worry causing his brows to pull together.

You shake your head and put distance between you both. "No, I'm fine. I'll...text you later, okay?"

Without another word, you turn and enter through the front, leaving Namjoon behind on the other side. Trekking up the stairs, through the door, past a mewling Mochi, you curl up on your bed and let yourself finally feel all the sadness piled up inside.

Fifteen minutes later, the waterworks flow when your phone lights up from an incoming text. Knowing exactly who it is, you grab it and text a swift message to Namjoon.

"I'm so sorry I left so suddenly. And that I ruined our day. Not feeling like myself."

"That's okay. I just got home, so I wanted to check up on you. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Do you need anything?"

"No, but thank you."

"Okay... Maybe we can try again some other time? I'd hate to let you down on Day 2."

Unable to reply, the phone turns black and you let it fall onto the duvet.

The days leading up until Christmas Eve were long and full of guilt. You closed the café for the final time the Monday before the holiday, and with no classes to attend, you mainly stayed inside and watched the snow fall outside your tiny apartment window. Mochi kept you company, but even the small fur ball could sense that something had changed for the worse. Even she had gotten used to you being happier this December; you'd taken two steps back while attempting to take a single step forward.

Every morning, you'd spot Namjoon riding his bike past your apartment on his way to the rink where he trains. Every day, he'd stop and gaze up at the building, never sure which frosty window you were behind but melancholy just the same. He'd call and text; the former, you would never answer, but the latter, you did sporadically. Mainly at night when you thought he wouldn't be up.

He usually was.

"Was it something I did?" he asked that Tuesday before Christmas. "Did I move too fast? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"No. It's not you."

"Then tell me what it is. I don't want to come across as pushy, but I thought we were getting closer...and then you pull back and hide from me. From everyone. I know I don't know everything about your past or what happened before you came to Seoul, but I promised you three adventures. I still have one to make good on before Christmas."

"Joonie..."

You couldn't bring yourself to write more. The tiny part of your brain that told you that maybe this can work, maybe it's worth trying, maybe things can be different now, it was silenced by the overwhelming majority of your mind. It remembered everything from your past, from the hurt and pain, from the loneliness and fear. Despite your wish to make things right again, it was drowned out by the pure terror of being wronged again.

"Don't shut me out. Please. Let me show you things can be different now. You don't have to go at this alone, [Y/n]. Not anymore."

Pushing down the urge to cry yet again, you move your fingers to type a swift and cold reply. "I'm so sorry I wasted your time, Namjoon. I really am. I thought I was ready, but it's clear that I'm not. Please, spend Christmas with your family. Don't waste any more time on me."

And that was the end of it. You muted his notifications, ignored his calls and texts, and eventually he went silent. The day before Christmas Eve was the first you didn't hear from him, and it was the first day you felt like you'd truly fucked things up for good.

On Christmas Eve, you got an unexpected call from Lisa. Deciding to take a break from staring at an empty Word document with ever-growing frustration, you answered the call, only to be bombarded by Lisa's rambling.

"Oh, thank god! I didn't think you'd answer! I need a huge favor, and I hate to bother on such short notice on Christmas Eve, but this really cannot wait and I'll love you forever if you—!"

"—Okay, okay," you chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.

"I need you to run back to the café and grab something for me. Jungkook is on his way there, but he doesn't have a key."

"What could you possibly have left that's this important?"

"My fucking credit card."

"You've been out of town for two weeks and only just now realized you left your card?"

She heaves a frustrated sigh. "Please, just, do me this favor?"

Rolling your eyes, you pull yourself from the sofa and grab your keys on the counter. "Fine, but you owe me."

"Yes, yes, I know."

You leave the apartment in a hurry, taking the next train to the café. In less than fifteen minutes, you're at the front door. Lisa assures you that Jungkook is on his way, only twenty minutes away. After unlocking it, you make yourself at home in the lobby with a fresh white chocolate mocha. It reminds you of Yeongu, and you smile at the thought.

After about a half hour, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Lisa's text has you halting in place.

"I'm sorry to do this. You didn't really give me another choice. I crossed a line, but I think you'll thank me in the end."

Your fingers are swift typing a response. "What did you do?"

"You remember how you gave me a spare key in case you ever got locked out? Or in case you were kept at school too long and needed someone to feed Mochi?" A pause, then she adds, "He came to Busan, [Y/n]. He asked me in person what to do. Do you know how out of the way that was for him? Give him another chance. Please."

"You didn't."

"I did. I'm sorry, but you've talked about how you pull away when you get close to people. It's gone on for almost a week. It's Christmas Eve. You can hate me all you want later, but please. Go home, kiss and make up, then try to salvage Christmas."

A huff of air exits your nostrils as it hits you. Lisa's given the spare to Namjoon. Jungkook was never on his way; this was all a rouse to get you out of your apartment long enough for him to get inside. But to what end?

"He's good for you; I can tell that much already. If you ever were to give someone the benefit of the doubt and place your broken pieces in someone's hands, he's the best you're gonna find."

A pang of truth rocks through you, and while you have still a semblance of willpower, you shoot her a swift text and rush back for the station. "I'm still mad at you, but we'll talk later. I need to get home."

"Go get him!"

The series of stairs up to your apartment never felt so long. Out of breath and winded from rushing home, you find the door unlocked. Pushing through, the place you left less than an hour ago isn't the same as it was before.

The entrance hallway is glittering, multi-colored strands of twinkle lights hanging along the periphery. Fake snow lines the trim, and paper snowflakes are tossed across the furniture. Each one is unique and hand-crafted.

As you venture further, a rainbow array aurora covers your living room and kitchen. There must be at least a dozen lengthy strands of Christmas lights hung across the few items you've unpacked, circled around the sealed boxes, and framing every window and door. Fake icicles hang on the windowsill, fake greenery lays where curtains should be, and a small Christmas tree stands at your height in the corner.

Jovial, English holiday music plays softly in the background. And humming along to the tune of The First Noel, Namjoon stands with bent-back facing you. He's finishing his final touches on the tree, ensuring that each sparkling orb and shimmering tinsel is perfect. He adjusts the star on the top with a smile to himself, oblivious still to your entrance.

For a moment, you stand in silence and watch him. Your heart is heavy but still beating. If anything, seeing him in the midst of such a sweet and selfless act makes it flutter. Even after cutting his well-planned adventure short, ignoring him for over a week, and telling him to stop speaking to you, he's still here. He came back, and he's trying to prove to you the truth he's been spouting all along.

Eventually, you blink out of your stupor and clear your throat to alert him to your presence. Namjoon turns on his heel, elbow grazing the tree just enough to send it toppling backward. He curses and lunges for it, grabbing it by the star just in time to keep it upright. His characteristic clumsiness prompts a snicker from you, one that you attempt to hide with your hand over your mouth.

Namjoon adjusts the tree and turns back to you with a bashful expression. His lips pull into a side-smile, a single dimple popping out in the process. "H—Hi..."

"Hi," you repeat back to him, letting your hand fall. Your eyes follow suit and drift to your damp, snow-covered shoes.

A beat of silence passes where neither of you knows what to say next. Then the both of you break it at once, words tumbling over each others several times in a row. You laugh to yourself and look back up at him; Namjoon smiles down at you, shaking his head at the awkward reunion.

He gestures silently to you. "Go ahead."

You clear your throat, then say, "I...I wanted to say that I owe you an apology."

He shakes his head firmly, extending his hands in a olive-branch manner. "No, you don't—"

Your feet move back, putting space between you both. "—Can I explain and finish, please? Just...hold your forgiveness until then." At your request, your companion falls silent, letting his hands fall respectfully at his side. Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, you re-calibrate your mind and prepare for your admission.

"There's a lot you don't know about me yet," you begin softly. "Ah, shit — That came out super mean. I mean, you know a lot about me. You kinda know why I moved to Korea, the situation with my family back in America, that whole thing. You know where I work and what I'm studying. You know my favorite drink of all time is a white chocolate mocha, and that my favorite customer is barely four feet tall. You know Lisa is my shield at work, and that we've become pretty close in less than a year. You know I'm a homebody and that my favorite thing to do by myself is play with Mochi and watch dramas."

You release a huff of air and raise your eyes to meet his, a wistful smile tugging the corners of your lips. "But there's a lot I haven't told you — or anyone for that matter. I've gone through...a lot of shit this year. When I moved to Seoul, my mental health was in the trash, and my self worth was in shambles. I'd just been shoved from everything I'd ever known into a foreign place."

When you pause for a moment, Namjoon's small and steady voice pipes up with a single inquiry. "I thought you left willingly?"

"I did," you state. "I've wanted to move to South Korea for a long, long time. Since I can remember. But I never thought I'd lose everything before then." Tears prick your eyes, and you lift your sleeve to wipe your nose. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Namjoon gestures towards the small sofa, and you follow his lead. You perch on a single cushion, legs folded underneath you. He takes the adjacent one, far enough to for personal space but still close enough to rest a hand on your knee. This time, you don't push him away as you catch your breath. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, I do, but maybe not now." You take another breath in and focus your thoughts. "I didn't mean to start all that with the intention of being the victim and making you feel bad for me. I...I told you that because I wanted you to know that there are reasons why I push people away. I've been on a journey to heal that trauma all year, but it doesn't happen overnight. But even with that, I never should have just left like that. I never should have ignored your calls and texts. I shouldn't have made you feel like you were the bad guy, or that any of this was your fault, or that you did anything wrong. You were—"

You struggle to find a word that fits what you're truly feeling, one that doesn't feel overwhelming, but the only one that comes to mind is... "You are perfect, Joonie. You're sweet and kind. You treat me like a normal person that's worth something, and I think part of me was scared of that. Especially around the holidays, I feel very fragile, and I run from things I think might hurt me."

"I would never, ever hurt you." Namjoon flashes a soft and empathetic smile. "Can I ask why you got spooked so suddenly? You looked off when I picked you up, and I know you said it was nothing, but..."

You pull your phone from your pocket and play the message for him, the one from your mother. And when he remains silent, you play the second from your father. While he listens, you watch him. The hand on your knee turns to a fist, and his jaw clenches. Part of you is relieved that someone else is reacting negatively to the messages, yet another signal to you that your choice is validated.

"I got the first that morning, but the second right before I left," you murmur. "I didn't respond, and I've blocked the numbers, but I've felt unstable since then. That's why I shut down, and why I left."

He nods, then turns off the phone. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. That's emotional abuse and manipulation. No one should have to go through that."

"I know, but I was wrong. I'm sorry for doing that and for hurting you. It was wrong, and I don't deserve you coming back again and again...even if you concocted this up with Lisa."

At your light-hearted comment, he chuckles and bites the inside of his cheek. The fist on your knee loosens back, his fingers tapping gently against your skin. "She told you, did she?"

"Yep," you chirp. "I'll thank her later."

After a moment, Namjoon's eyes flicker back up to yours. For a moment, he almost looks worried. "Are you mad?"

"Meh." For a moment, you're able to hold your composure long enough for your companion's eyes to widen in horror. "I'm just kidding," you relent, and Namjoon looks visibly relieved. "How could I be mad? Look at all this!" You gesture to the magical space around you. "It looks like a wonderland in here."

A crimson hue fills his face, and he's all of a sudden very shy about the accomplishment. "I wanted you to feel like you had a Christmas, even if it was just for one night."

Leaning your head against the back cushion of the sofa, you stare at him with a bittersweet smile on your face. "Are you mad at me?"

He shakes his head, expression more adamant about that than anything he's said so far. "Not a bit. I was worried, yes, and maybe a little disappointed. I think most of that was tied to the fact that I thought we were on the up-and-up. I saw you slowly opening up and having a good time."

"Gahhh," you groan, eyes fluttering shut with frustration at your past self. "I really fucked it up, didn't I?"

"Not really." His hand slips up your knee, and he weaves his fingers through yours. The squeeze he gives and the gaze he locks gives emphasis to his next words. "I know I don't know everything about you, just like you don't know everything about me, but I'd be lying if I said you aren't the most joyful thing I've experienced in a while. Being around you makes me happy, and the fact that this has you so down makes me want to be there for you — if you want me to. I don't blame you for anything you've done, so you have nothing to be sorry for. Honestly, after hearing those messages and some of what you've been dealing with this year, I know I would've reacted the same way. But, if it helps your peace of mind, then I forgive it all."

"Thank you," you whisper, trying to blink away the tears pricking your eyes.

Namjoon's gaze softens, and he tugs on your hand. "C'mere." You scoot closer, and he pulls you the rest of the way onto his lap and into his arms. Your legs dangle off the side of his thighs, and your head nestles in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. One hand holds tightly to yours while the other circles your waist, dipping under your sweater to rub soothing circles on your skin. Your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him even closer than before.

"Sometimes terrible, inexplicable things happen to us and it takes us months — even years — to process." Namjoon's timbre is quiet and deep, rumbling against your ear as he speaks. "Everyone goes through that, even me. But it's so much harder to face it alone. Sometimes it takes a lonely, awful Christmas to see just how out of sorts you are. I don't know everything, but if you'll have me, I'd like to stick around to find out."

"You'd still be willing to get to know me more, even after seeing me at my worst?"

"Jagi, if this is your worst, then I would hate to introduce you to sixteen-year-old Kim Namjoon. That boy was a train-wreck."

Letting a watery smile show as laughter escapes your lungs, you reach upward and wrap your arms around Namjoon's neck. He pulls you closer, hands splayed on your back and waist. A sense of relief, and something like home, floods through you. Burying your face in his neck, you allow yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. Ever patient, your companion just holds you close as you come back around.

"Enough with the heavy," he breaks the silence, pulling back and wiping his thumb across your cheeks. Nodding towards the front of the space, where your television is, you follow his line of sight. "I brought your movie and the player. If you're okay with me staying over, do you wanna watch it?"

Leaning forward, you bring your face closer to his, murmuring, "I'd love that."

Namjoon closes the final distance. Both your eyes and his flutter shut as your lips meet in the middle. You tug on the collar of his sweater, encouraging him closer as his arms tighten around your waist. In a burst of bravery, you run your hand through his platinum hair and nip at his bottom lip. He inhales abruptly, and you giggle in response.

"You're gonna be the death of me, [Y/n] [Y/l/n]," he laughs, eventually pulling back to catch his breath.

You grin mischievously at him, biting your lower lip. "Still sure you wanna stay?"

"Definitely. Oh! And I placed an order for takeout, which should be here any minute."

You burst into laughter, resting your forehead against his shoulder as joy fills your body. "You really put all your chips on me coming to my senses, didn't you?" When he shrugs, you add, "What if I had said no?"

"Then I would've been eating for two alone in my apartment," he groans.

You shake your head at his antics and playfully poke the dimple in his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

His smile deepens at your words and gesture. “Merry Christmas, [Y/n].”

Just as he promised, food arrives at the front of your apartment a few minutes later. Namjoon hops up and volunteers to get it from the entrance, and you pop the movie into the player. Silencing the music on his phone, you select the "Play" option from the menu, and the credits begin to play over Anthony Hopkins' narration as your companion returns.

He serves up the food and delivers it to you on the sofa. With a rumbling stomach, you take it gratefully. Just as the singing begins, Namjoon settles into the seat beside you, hooking your leg over his so you maintain closeness as you devour the takeout. Neither of you have seen it in so long, and thus both of you are laughing whole-heartedly at every joke and hilarious mannerism.

After the meal is finished and the dishes are on the makeshift box side-table, you find yourself slowly slipping closer to your companion. Namjoon gladly pulls you closer, and by the middle of the movie, you're back in his lap. With the blanket wrapped around you both, his chin on your head, his arms around you with one hand tracing absent-minded patterns on the skin above your pants, you know you've never been more at home in Seoul than you are right now.

"I'm sorry I ruined your grand plans for Day 3," you murmur after a while.

Namjoon's hand on your waist halts, then changes to a reassuring, tapping pattern. "Be glad you did; this is way better than anything I had planned."

"While I have to agree, what did you have planned?"

You can hear his smile in his voice. "Well, honestly I hadn't decided between Lotte World or Seoullo 7017. You said you hadn't been to either of those, and at Christmas, they're magical. All the lights, the music, it's an absolute winter wonderland."

"Well, if I get to see you skate live, then we can definitely go to those after the solar New Year. Maybe...Maybe even call it a date?"

Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, one that makes you grin to yourself and sigh peacefully. His reply is loud and clear, a promise reverberating through his chest. "I think that sounds perfect."

As the movie continues, you relax and think back on everything that's happened this year. All your concerns and worries you had a few weeks prior, at the beginning of December, they all seem so far away now. Even those anxieties brought up recently feel as if they're resolved. he sense is comparable to that of a chapter ending and a new one is being written. And this time, you're the one holding the pen.

At the resolution of the film, you realize that what Namjoon set out to do over a series of adventures truly did come to fruition. Be it luck or fate or whatever you want to call it, he really has given you that spark of hope in the Christmas season. It's something you thought you'd lost, or perhaps you'd left it in America along with many other things. He's brought it back to life, and so much more along with it.

All that magic, all that wonder, all that love and hope and joy — Namjoon is right. It hasn't disappeared from the world, and you haven't outgrown the things you used to feel during the holiday season. It's all still right here, in front of you and around you, waiting to be taken with grateful hands and heart. Maybe it's not in the form it used to be, nor is it in the place it used to be, but neither are you. Both you and your home have changed this year. But despite it all, you are still here, still striving to love yourself and your new life, still trying to let the magic find you.

And this year, because of a wonderful person named Kim Namjoon, you had all the love and magic you could ever need.

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calunasteria · 3 years ago

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please, xanny. | sanzu haruchiyo

"𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚."

- ever wonder how love will feel like if its with sanzu haruchiyo?

current word count: 2.3k

tw (throughout the series): mentions of drug use and abuse, manipulation (gaslighting) and toxic relationships, mentions of blood, death, and murder, rape (attempt), use of deadly weapons, slight nsfw (??) - kindly tell me if i missed one. thank you.

date started: 07/29/21 (wattpad) | 07/31/21 (tumblr)

date ended: -

02 ! please, xanny.

i still dont know sanzu's background/backstory so this might be inaccurate but i'll try to edit this out once i'm done with the story and once their backstory is out (akashi siblings).

note: not proofread

sanzu was never the type to associate and talk his feelings, emotions, and ideas out loud, not unless if it became too much for him to handle. he was never the type to play hero for someone he barely knows because his heart and mind can only let few people in. once he made up his mind about something, or fixated his loyalty for someone, it can never ever waver.

so for him to do such actions to help this girl infront of him, with tear stained face, ruined polo shirt, and ripped cardigan, under the hazy moonlight, with crisp consternation in the air - was definitely something he wouldn't do on normal occasions.

he doesn't know, his body, and his will just shifted and had a strong urge to help when he heard a familiar yet hoarse voice crying for help, when its literally 3 in the morning in a deserted area.

he and kasumi never shared a conversation before the incident, yet he always admired the way she carries herself with confidence, while her eyes says otherwise, for her ebony orbs were almost dead with dwindling light and maybe that's the reason why he, sanzu haruchiyo is somehow interested in her, inconspicuously.

bright, gleaming rays of the golden sun that passed through the transparent glass window woke kasumi up as it was another day, another day to deal with numerous shits with monotonous routines. but this time, she has an objective to go talk to someone. she has something to look forward to for today.

but was completely shut down when she can't get ahold of the man she was trying to find and talk to. he wasn't at his classroom. he didn't attend his classes either - he wasn't at the school.

why? did i do something wrong? kasumi cogitated. she was hopeful to bring him his jacket back and to formally say her thank you to him, but he wasn't even around. and after a few hours of thinking where he might be and why back and forth, she came to a conclusion that maybe he needs to do something else or that something came up that's why he was absent - but as another day goes by, she never saw sanzu haruchiyo again.

he was avoiding her. and she doesn't know what to feel. she was conflicted and amused because how can he avoid her when they literally study in the same school?

"if he doesn't wanna show himself to me, then fine. all i want to do was to say thank you." she sighed as she walked to their house. booming voices and gut wrenching sobs was heard inside, that caught kasumi's attention making her rush towards their front door, frantically opening the doorknob to see what was happening.

"man, she's still not here huh." kaoru pouted as she sat down on their usual place, but the only difference is that kasumi is not present. and its been days since kasumi stopped going to school and attending her part time jobs- and sanzu knows that something was definitely up. although he can't find any information about kasumi's whereabouts and he was somewhat frustrated so he decided to go on a local bar to drink something when he saw a familiar figure, face lying down on a table, multiple empty alcohol bottles found near her.

what the fuck is she doing here, haruchiyo pondered as he rushed towards the unconscious girl. "hey. wake up." he shook kasumi's shoulder making the girl grumble and squint her eyes towards the person who woke her up. her head was wobbly, and her vision was kinda blurry but she recognised the scent that was bewitching her system at that moment.

"sanzu!" she beamed, lifting her head up to see the man before her, eyebrows furrowing as he can now see her upclose - busted lips and eyebrows and an evident chestnut color with a hint of purple and blue bruise across her face. and he felt that again. he felt this urgency back then when he helped her on that night and here he is ushering and helping kasumi out to stand up, head empty just him following what his system is doing.

"stand up. can you walk?" he asked as he tried to hold kasumi up, her eyes unfocused and somewhat lost. "yep!" she chimed in trying to steady her movements as she was now aware that the person she was trying to find last week was now here in front of her.

"really?" sanzu lifted one of his eyebrows, as kasumi tried to shoo away his arms that was supporting her weight to keep her from falling down. "yes, now let me go." and sanzu did, making kasumi almost stumble down as her vision is still swirling, but sanzu caught her waist gracefully before she fell down.

"hold my hand, kasumi, or i'll carry you outside. you choose." sanzu offered and kasumi noticed the genuine concern hinted on his stern voice.

she took his hand all while sanzu swiftly intertwined their hands together, holding her closely, enough for her to feel his warmth that soothed her overflowing emotions these past few days.

he opened the door's car and guided her inside, setting her down carefully as he walked towards the driver's seat to go start the car.

"wait, where are we going? why did i followed you here?" kasumi blinked earning a small scoff from the man beside her.

"why don't you ask your alcohol intoxicated system, nakashima-san?" he was definitely grinning, but kasumi was too tired to argue and her head was wobbling around as if she's swimming in a tide pool.

"were sobering you up." was the last thing she heard from sanzu before car engine started and the scenery before her starts fading away into illuminated lights.

the car came to a halt breaking the deep reverie kasumi was in, and there she noticed that they were infront of a small coffee shop with a very people in, since its already midnight. "were here," sanzu spoke softly, as he grab another jacket on the backseat tossing it to kasumi who's still processing the things that are happening.

as she stepped out of the car, she was greeted by a sharp, cool, wintry breeze that hit her face gently. her vision is still whirling and she still feels lightheaded because of all the drinks she had but she's in a better state now than she was earlier.

the coffee shop was decorated with retro styled lightbulbs that hanged on wooden ceilings, walls with floating shelves that have books and two and tiny succulents, vintage designed portraits, landscapes, and paintings and the ambience tasted like vanilla and sleepless nights as the coffee's aroma permeated their sensation.

"what do you want to order?" sanzu asked, hands inside his pocket, eyes scanning the menu on the screen at the counter, still wearing his face mask.

"just hot chocolate." kasumi replied, as she fumbled with her wallet handing money to sanzu that just walked past her, quickly muttering her to just sit down and wait for him.

kasumi just stared at sanzu while she waited for him who was now at the counter, ordering and it was not long after he came back with a paper bag and hot chocolate on both his hands.

the paper bag contains a box of chocolate cookies that is freshly baked. "who's this for?" she asked, eyebrows raising at sanzu all while he just blankly stared at her.

"for you." he replied nonchalantly as he went outside the coffee shop, kasumi trailing behind him with so many questions pivoting in her head.

"but i only ordered hot choco? and here's the money. how much is the cookies though?" she protested, trying to keep up with his pace and she noticed that sanzu walked pass his car that was parked a few meters from the coffee shop.

"hey, where are you going? kasumi stomped her foot and sighed loudly because sanzu was ignoring all her questions and she doesn't even know where this man is going.

"sanzu haruchiyo!" she called out, still dizzy and frustrated because of how he ignores all her protests and actions and it was as if sanzu snapped out of his train of thoughts after he heard kasumi yell out his name, he then turned around to see her face tainted with color of crimson red, eyebrows furrowed, and a slight pout on her mouth.

"i'm sorry. just follow me, and you'll see." he went back to her with a few steps, taking the paperbag in her hand so she can drink her beverage while he walks towards the nearby beach. kasumi just followed silently, saving all her questions for later. the walk they shared was quiet yet comfortable even though the wind was all they can hear, and some car or vehicles driving past them.

once they reached their destination, kasumi's hot chocolate drink was long gone and the scenery before her got her awestruck and her breath was taken away.

there was no one on the beach except for them, the sound of the waves crashing was a melody in their ears, and the breeze that blew from the horizon tasted like salt and tranquillity. the sky was painted with dwindling gray, the darkest navy blue, and black ink, with the stars, constellations and crescent moon that adorned the cosmos.

they momentarily locked eyes before kasumi went ahead and ran towards the shore, the sweet and gilded sand soaked her feet was rough, yet the waves was gentle and caring.

everything was so beautiful.

she was beautiful, haruchiyo thought. as her raven hair rode through the wind current and her soft facial features was highlighted by the dim illumination of the moon.

kasumi was playing in the sand when she sat down and admired the sky's reflection on the ocean and it was not long after sanzu sat down too, his zircon gem colored eyes glimmering like the stars that hanged on the night sky. its a shame why he still has his face mask on though.

"thank you, sanzu. for everything," she smiled as she looked at him with adoration, their eyes locked with each other, both orbs filled with unsaid emotions, "but why? why are you being so kind to me? when you barely even know me?"

sanzu just stared at her, unable to answer.

because he himself doesn't even know the answer. why? why did he help her and why does he keep on involving himself with her?

"i don't know." he whispered, words getting lost within the soft breeze blowing from the horizon. "but how about you?" he spoke, as he look towards kasumi who's intently looking at him.

"what do you mean? i didn't do anything much." she replied, her heart getting heavier as the moment passes, being in that place now reminds her of the past she can never bring back.

"you have a bruise on your face. you have a busted lip. you weren't attending school and your part time jobs too. we came here so that you can atleast let go of all your problems." sanzu blurted out, making kasumi turn her head towards sanzu, eyes blinking with amusement while a soft chuckle escaped her lips, stretching it into a wide grin.

sanzu looked confused at her reaction, "no, its just that, you literally said a whole paragraph there, i was shocked. you never said anything more than 10 or more words." she explained, as she lay down on the sand, staring at the stars.

"its just, everything is so shitty. i just found out that my father cheated on my ill and sick mom and he raised his hand at her, and that everytime he'd go out he'll just go whoring around with his bitch downtown. and when i stood up for my mom? he beat me up too. god, when the fuck did it all went wrong?" kasumi ranted, tears falling down her eyes non stop as she let out everything that's been hunting her these past few days all while sanzu just listened intently, his heart sinking slowly in behalf of what kasumi had vented.

"there's no such thing as a perfect family, but that doesn't justify what your father did to you." he muttered, and kasumi sat up, wiping away her tears.

"say, sanzu-"

"haruchiyo." he corrected, voice unwavering.

kasumi was astonished. man, he was definitely full of surprises and as the moment they both share together, stretches on, she felt more and more comfortable with his presence. "haruchiyo, can you remove your mask, please?" she asked, and sanzu was taken aback by her request and he doesn't want to remove it yet his hands moved on his own.

why?

is it normal to feel so fucking connected to a person who doesn't even know you before what happened? to feel so comfortable to someone who barely knows you? to feel so secured with someone whom you only shared a few words and moments with?

he doesn't know.

he doesn't know anymore.

his long, slender, and veiny hands moved towards his face mask and finally removed them.

he thought that she might find it unpleasant, and hideous, just like what other people think, so he just hang his head low but then he felt her warm hands lift his chin up, there he saw her with genuine, fond smile, eyes full of affection.

and oh how sanzu fell in love that moment.

but of course he's not gonna admit it.

he just thinks that its the alcohol with her. yeah. she's still drunk, probably. the male mused, trying to convince himself.

both of them talked and stared at the stars for a long time before kasumi fell asleep. but then after that night, the girl disappeared. she never went to school ever again, nor to her part time jobs.

it was as if what happened that night was a dream.

#bonten #bonten tokyorev #sanzu haruchiyo #tokyo manji gang #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers kokonoi #toman sanzu #tokyo revengers fanfiction #sanzu fanfiction

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine:

Erik walks in on his homeboys sister stepping out of the shower and she is embarrassed/ has a huge crush on him.

Warnings: Smut. Flash back.

Micheal and Yara.

Two siblings from Oakland who decided to get an apartment near Telegraph Ave so that Yara could study at Berkeley. Yara is currently studying Art History there and she will be graduating in May at the age of 21. Micheal, her older brother, is into graphic design and web development so he works for a small company creating websites for Architectural businesses. He also does free lance work on the side to earn extra cash so he can afford living in their expensive apartment. Micheal and Yara’s parents are divorced. Their father lives in San Francisco city and their mother lives where Micheal and Yara are with her new husband in Alameda County. Yara used to live with her mother but she didn’t get along with her step father. Micheal brought up the idea of sharing an apartment to Yara since his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Evette decided that she didn’t want to move in with him.

Currently, Micheal and Evette are arguing about Micheal's whereabouts last Friday evening. Yara was trying to take a nap in her room before her late shift at 9:00 PM as a bar tender. Tossing and turning in her bed covered in fluffy white sheets, Yara groaned loudly before throwing her sheets back, temples pounding with a tension headache that Yara tries to sooth by massaging them but it doesn’t work. Only in a Metallica T-shirt, Yara grabs a pair of Champions sweatpants from her dresser, sliding her feet in her canary yellow UGG slippers, and walking out of her bedroom. Yara’s eardrums damn near bust when she stepped into the hallway of the apartment. Rubbing the cold from her eyes, Yara walked out into the living room area coming face to face with the source of the commotion.

“STOP LYING!” Evette, Short, petite, reminded Yara of Keyshia Cole because of her bright red hair and nose piercing, tossed a decorative pillow at Micheal from across the room. Micheal caught it with his quick reflexes before placing it back on the couch. He didn’t appear bothered at all by Evette’s screaming and hollering.

“Evette, I ain’t got nothing to lie about. I told you, I was with my boy, Erik. He’s back in town for a little while before he goes back to the Military,” Micheal spoke with a flat tone, eyes bored.

“I don’t believe you. I think you were with some girl. I think you’re out here sticking your dick in some other bitch. When I find out, I’m beating both of yall ass, for real,” Evette threatens Micheal with one of her long acrylic hot pink nails almost jabbing him in the eye.

“This ain’t the first time you accused me of cheating,” Micheal ran his hands down his face, “It’s really getting on my nerves, Evette. The constant trying to go through my phone, picking fights with me, the insecurities. What do I have to lie about? I could have dropped you years ago but no, I care about you too much to do that. Now, I’m just tired of you acting like a damn child.”

“Ahem,” Yara clears her throat.

Micheal and Evette turn towards her.

“Do y’all mind taking this shit somewhere else? I have to work tonight and I can’t sleep with all this yelling.”

“Hi to you too, Yara,” Evette spoke sarcastically.

“Bitch, don’t give me attitude. Do you pay the bills in here?” Yara has her fists balled up like she was ready to hit Evette. Evette simply laughs, staring at Yara like she’s a joke before turning her attention back to Micheal.

“My bad, little sis, Evette was just leaving-“

“WHAT?” Evette’s voice grew loud again.

“You heard me. Bounce. If you don’t trust me I can’t deal with you, Evette.”

Evette folds her arms across her perky chest, “Do you actually mean it this time around or will you be calling me tomorrow night asking to come over? you are famous for that shit, Mike.”

Micheal groans, “I don’t know right now. All I know is I need you to leave so I can clear my head, you know what I’m saying?”

“Okay, clear your head, GOTCHA,” Evette turns around, practically stomping to the door, “Lying ass piece of shit.”

“Don’t slam the door either!”Micheal yells.

BAM!

“Yeah,” Micheal closes his eyes to calm himself.

“You’re better than me. I feel like following her and kicking that bitch down the steps. You need to drop her, Mike. Do you even see what’s going on?”

“Nah, baby sis, tell me what’s up? What am I NOT seeing?”

Yara tilted her head at Micheal with sad eyes. Micheal shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t understand what Yara was trying to tell him without using words.

“You can be so damn thick-headed sometimes,” Yara threw her hands up matter-of-factually, “Evette is cheating on you, Mike. She’s just trying to give you a reason to end things so she can continue fucking whoever she is fucking without you knowing.”

“Wait...what?” Micheal says with disbelief.

“You’re Girl? The love of your life? She’s fucking someone else, Mike.”

Micheal blinked at Yara with bewildered eyes.

“Listen, fool, while you’re sitting there stuck on stupid, Evette is driving to a dick appointment trying to think of a plan B to get rid of yo’ ass. Just end it with her. The shit is toxic. I don’t even want a nigga to step into my personal space after witnessing the shit you and Evette go through.”

“If Evette is cheating on me...” Micheal didn’t finish his sentence but Yara knew her brother would bring hell to earth if he caught Evette fucking another man. As much as they bickered and broke up, Evette was her brothers first real love. He wouldn’t admit it, but Micheal would be heart broken.

“Then I’m going to whip her ass,” Yara said in her brothers defense, “Nobody fucks with my bro like that.”

“I’ll let you beat her ass too.”

Yara kisses her brothers forehead, “I’m going to go back in bed, I am so exhausted with school- hold up, did you say that you were with Erik?”

“Yeah,” Micheal said whole scrolling through his phone, “He’s back for a little while.”

“I haven’t seen Erik in, like, three years?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long ass time. I thought he forgot about us,” Micheal laughs, “He’ll be here later if you want to catch him before you go to work.”

“Mama was asking about him a few days ago,” Yara says recalling the conversation they both had when she went to visit her. Micheal and Yara’s mother always pulled the photo albums out whenever they came to see her. The photo album she brought out when Yara came over was Micheal’s prom photos. Micheal and Erik went to prom together their senior year.

“Look at Erik! Wasn’t he so skinny?!” Yara’s mama says.

“Yeah, mama, he was swimming in his suit.”

Yara’s eyes twinkled when she stared at Erik’s photo. Her first ever crush. The guy she kissed on a whim when she was 18 and he was 24. Yara felt so embarrassed. Erik simply gave her a kind smile, hugging her tightly. She felt like a silly child. Erik was a grown man. Ever since then, Yara hadn’t seen Erik.

“You Aight?” Micheal looked over at Yara with a smirk.

“I’m fine.”

Yara couldn’t stop thinking about her brothers friend who used to spend the night when they were kids. His friend who wore only a pair of basketball shorts when he slept. His friend who used to stand in Yara’s doorway to her bedroom teasing her.

“You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” Yara looked off to the side.

“When you look away like that it’s a sign that you’re lying. You ain’t gotta tell me, it’s probably some nasty shit that I really don’t want to know anyway.”

“Shut up, Mike,” Yara rolls her eyes, turning away to walk back to her room with her middle finger raised behind her, directed towards her brother.

——————

A few hours later:

Erik Stevens stepped off of the elevator within Micheal and Yara’s apartment building on Telegraph Ave. kinky fro freshly shaped up and a new fit and shoes on his feet, Erik checked his text message from Micheal that informed him of what apartment it is.

“9C,” Erik places his phone back inside of his jacket pocket, eyes searching from left to right before spotting the crisp white door with a bronze letter C on it and a tiny peep hole. Erik knocks, the gold Piaget watch on his right wrist making a loud tapping sound against the surface of the door. In under two seconds, Micheal opens the door, a broad smile on his handsome chocolate face when he noticed who it was.

“What’s up, cuz?” Micheal gave Erik dabs, “I ain’t expect you to be over this early, bruh, you good?”

“I’m good, I just needed to get away from CeCe. You know she offered for me to stay at her new place instead of a hotel.”

“You know you have to tell me about all of that, right?” Micheal jokes, holding his door open further for Erik to enter. Erik steps inside, his eyes admiring the urban styled apartment. It was Boho vintage with different shades of browns, greens, and reds. The living room was decorated and furnished with cream colored walls, Urban photographs of Oakland, cactus plants, a standout leather sofa set in a dessert brown color accompanied with khaki colored patch work leather ottomans and an elegantly modern coffee table featuring a round metal tabletop in a brushed, antique brass finish. 60 inch flat screen TV, an acacia wood credenza that Erik was sure is filled with old 70s and 80s records.

“Shit, let me take my shoes off, I don’t want to mess up this nice carpet,” Erik kicks his shoes off near the front door.

“You can put them in that shoe rack right there if you want. Yara got that from the thrift store about a week ago.”

Erik looks up at Micheal with expectant eyes, “Little Yara? She lives with you? what happened with Evette?”

“Long story, bro, Yara and I decided to get a place together close to Berkeley and I work for that new company I was telling you about last weekend so we can commute easier. Plus, you know moms live near us too.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, what is little Yara studying at Berkeley?”

Micheal smiles like a proud older brother, “Art History. She wants to become a Curator.”

“I’ve always seen her working in a museum. She loves history so much,” Erik reminisced with a slight smirk, “Is she here?”

“Straight back there-Wait.”

Erik was ready to rush back to see her.

“Let me see if she’s decent. She gotta work in about a few hours.”

“No problem, bruh, I’ll chill out here.”

Erik watches Micheal walk to the back of the apartment where the rooms are. Taking a seat on the leather couch, Erik strokes his beard, thinking about Yara. He hadn’t seen her in three years. He wondered how different she looked. By different he meant mature and filled out like a women. Back when she was just 18 years of age, Yara was so petite and athletic since she played Lacrosse, braces on her teeth, and so sweet and innocent. From what Micheal told Erik last weekend when they went out to a Hookah bar for Boys night, Yara gained weight. Micheal joked about it, typical sibling teasing, but Erik wished he could have seen a picture. Now, his mind went back to when Yara kissed him the night of her graduation party before Erik left to start his JSOC training. He honestly didn’t know how to respond. Yara looked like her world came crashing down when he didn’t reciprocate the same feelings. She was much younger than him, Erik has her by six years. She was 18 and he was 24. Yeah, Yara was legal but it still felt weird. He always knew little Yara had a crush on him and he surely didn’t want Micheal to know about it.

“She’s still asleep,” Micheal walked back out with a generous bag filled with an eighth of top-shelf weed, “You want to smoke a blunt and tell me about this bitch named CeCe?”

———————

Yara. Don’t forget. The history project is due tomorrow night. Since you’re group lead, you have to submit it.

Yara rolls her eyes at the group chat she was in with her fellow History classmates. That assignment was the last thing on her damn mind. Yara closes her Mac, stretching her curvy body out like a cat before getting up from her comfy bed. Like a strong wind, the smell of kush hit her nose. Yara noticed that her bedroom door is cracked. Micheal must have come to check on her. Yara slips on a pair of Champion Reverse Weave drawstring shorts that were folded on the end of her bed in a pink color, bed hair and all, walking out of her room and towards the living room. When she entered the hallway, two male voices could be heard. It finally dawned on Yara who the other male present could be.

Erik.

Yara walks to the bathroom, deciding to wipe her face off and brush her teeth. She still needed to shower but that could wait until she ate something. Admiring her hair, Yara reaches up to pull her hair tie from her curly hair, fluffing it out and shaking her head so it wouldn’t look like she just rolled out of bed. Yara then brushes her teeth, using her water closer afterwards. Satisfied, Yara takes in a deep breath to try and calm the butterflies in her stomach before walking out of the bathroom and towards the living room area.

“So, you’re telling me that CeCe is trying to hook you up with someone? why are you there?”

“You know she likes playing match made in heaven. CeCe is cool, Mike, I know me and her used to fuck around before I left but it ain’t even like that now. Just a friend helping out a friend. No big thing.”

Micheal chuckles, “E, I know you, man. You had all that pussy around you to play with and you ain’t have a taste? Nigga-“

“Like I said, nah. I don’t want that anymore or her friend she’s trying to get me with. Her friend just wants to know how the dick CeCe used to get is really about. You can look at me like that all you want. Everything is temporary. I’m shopping for a house right now-“

“You can just sleep on our couch-“

“I’m too big for this fucking couch,” Erik laughs, “Once my house is built from the ground up, you’ll see that it was all worth it. And you know I can’t stay with our other friends they gon’ get me caught up and I don’t need to be in jail.”

Erik takes a puff of weed before handing it over to Mike.

Micheal accepts the weed, instantly smoking it before letting the smoke out from his nose, “You’re a changed man, E. Got a house in the works, left the hood to pursue your dreams of being this J.I Joe motherfucker,” Erik playfully jabs Micheal in his ribs, “Seeiously, man, I’m proud of you. Wait until Yara sees you, bruh.”

Erik licks his lips before raising a single brow, “What you mean by that?

“She ain’t gonna believe this the same Erik from three years ago. What you do? Get inside of the same machine as Captain America?”

“Funny, nigga.”

Yara didn’t reveal herself just yet. She just wanted to hear him talk. Erik’s voice definitely appeared deeper. Raspy, then husky, then deep and gruff. When he genuinely laughed it was still just as light as before. Yara peeked out into the living room. A tiny gasp escaped her mouth. Kinky fro, muscles, facial hair, and tiny scars on his arms is what she noticed first. Micheal was right, this was Erik 2.0. Then, whenever he talked; those lush lips moving, Yara saw gold canines in his mouth. He looked so rough and scruffy. The Military definitely made him harder.

“Yara, stop being nosy!” Micheal yells. Yara almost jumped where she stood. She was so in tune with her thoughts that she hadn’t realized how close she’d gotten into the living room.

“Shut up Mike!” Yara fired back. With nervous eyes, Yara looked over at Erik. He didn’t speak, all he did was look fixedly at her with his eyes wide open. It was as if time stood still and she was the only thing that mattered in that room. Even the weed in Erik’s hand could burn to ash.

“Hi, Erik,” Yara couldn’t stop herself from grinning when Erik smiled at her with his dimples.

“Little Yara, what’s going on girl!” Erik hands Micheal the blunt back before standing from the couch, walking over to Yara with his arms outstretched for her to give him a big hug. Yara walks up to Erik, giggling nervously before bringing her arms around his waist, squeezing him. Erik rocked Yara back and forth while his chin rested on top of her curly head. Erik then brings his lips down to kiss Yara’s forehead before pulling her away to get a good look at her.

Heart shaped face, dimple in her chin, glittering eyes fringed with long eyelashes that reminded him of maple syrup, silken skin like cinnamon, ebony ringlets that made her thick but arched brows pop, lips full and glossy with a prominent Cupid’s bow. Erik’s eyes burned with desire when he gazed at Yara’s voluptuous, curvy, ample, and generous body. She really filled out from the last time he saw her. Mike can joke all he wants but Yara looked...

Erik covered his eyes with his hands, a suppressed laugh escaping his mouth before he opened his arms wide for her to hug him again. Yara giggles, stepping back into his embrace again to accept his hug. He smelled like patchouli. Tall, brawny, chiseled, broad-shouldered, and hulking, Yara couldn’t get over how comfortable she felt within Erik’s embrace. The deep baritone of his voice made her shiver.

“Look at you girl, all grown up. Crazy how that happened in three years, right?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Yara turned her face away timidly, “So, how is the Military treating you? I mean...” Yara looks Erik up and down with a shake of her head, “It seems like it’s treating you nice. Go hard or go home, right?

“Treating me like I’m a piece of shit but it’s worth it,” Erik laughs, “The Military transformed me.”

Yes it did

“You do look great, I almost didn’t recognize you sitting on that couch. The hair, the muscles, the scars...”

Yara looked at them, her hand extending out suddenly to touch a row of scars that looked freshly raised against his skin.

“Don’t.”

Yara jolted upright, her hand jerking away. His voice and the look he gave her had her shrank in front of him.

“Shit, my bad, girl. You don’t want to touch these. Bad memories. That’s all, little Yara, I’m sorry.”

“It’s...it’s okay,” Yara steps away, shifting from one foot to the other, “Good to see you though, Erik.”

“You too, girl,” Erik scratched his beard before reluctantly turning away from Yara to take his seat next to Micheal on the couch. Yara watched him walk away while tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. The way they greeted eachother felt so different. Erik wasn’t only physically changed, He’s mentally changed too.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?” Micheal stretched his slender tattoo covered arms above his head.

“Yeah, but I’m hungry so,” Yara rubbed her hands on her thighs to get rid of the sweat before walking away and into the kitchen. Yara finally exhaled when she entered the kitchen after holding her breath while walking past Erik. The kitchen was open and you could peek into the living room. Erik was sitting directly across from Micheal staring straight ahead at Yara while smoking his blunt. He tilted his head at her while half listening to Micheal talk about Evette. Yara turned her face away, grabbing a loaf of wheat bread from the counter to make herself a PB&J sandwich.

“Little sis, what you cooking up in there?”

“Nothing for you,” Yara spread strawberry jam on her bread, “Why don’t you order in?”

“I was thinking about it, E, I’ma make a liquor run real quick, you want anything?”

“I got some good stuff in the car I can grab, you aint gon’ drink it so don’t even ask.”

“Yeah, I like my own shit,” Micheal stood from the couch, walking towards the back of the apartment to his room. It was silent minus the low TV and Yara washing the butter knife she used to make her sandwich. Erik leaned back into the leather couch, crossing his arms over his solid chest. He watched Yara walk over to the trash can to toss a paper towel in the trash that she most likely used to clean up crumbs or spilled jam. Erik has a great view of Yara’s thick ass bending over, her drawstring shorts raising up her thighs and getting caught between her ass cheeks. Such a beautiful sight has Erik’s brows knitted as he gave her a once-over. At that particular moment, Yara looked back at him as if she could feel his eyes boring into her.

“Hi.” She spoke in a trembling tone.

“Hi, back,” Erik says suggestively.

“Did Mike leave yet?”

“Nah-“

“Aight, I’ll be back, y’all good? Need anything?” Micheal was back with a hoodie on, a dad cap, and a pair of vans on his feet.

“Can you stop by that corner market that sells those organic fruits? I want some mangos.” Yara yelled from the kitchen.

Micheal grabbed the door knob, pausing, “I’m making a liquor run too.”

“Oh! I want some Hypnotiq.”

“Cool, you, E?”

“We can order in when you get back, I’m good.”

“Bet, I’ll be back.”

Micheal exits.

“Mike still just as skinny as he was since the last time I saw him” Erik laughs.

“Yeah, he can eat but it goes nowhere. Me, I gained all the weight in the world.”

Erik gave Yara a dismissive wave of his hand, “Girl, you look good. Ain’t nothing wrong with the weight you put on.”

Yara giggles, popping a green grape in her mouth, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Erik craned his neck to try and see her, “Why don’t you come in here and eat. Over there hiding and shit from a nigga.”

“Okay,” Yara got up from the dining room table, walking through the kitchen and entering the living room. She decided to sit her plump bottom on the floor while using one of the leather ottomans as a surface for her grapes and half eaten sandwich.

“So, how have you been?” Erik asked while rolling a new blunt.

“I’ve been doing just fine. Ready to graduate honestly.” Yara nervously rubbed her shoulder before gazing at Erik, “You?”

“Busy, busy, busy,” Erik’s onyx eyes landed on hers before looking back at his blunt, “Just traveling, training, that’s about it.”

“Oh,” Yara massaged the back of her neck, “Does those scars have anything to do with it?”

“Partly, yeah.”

“I see,” Yara admires them, “They look...they don’t look like typical scars.”

“That’s because they’re not.” Erik spoke in a flat tone.

“Let me just, stop asking,” Yara laughs awkwardly.

Erik chuckles, “It’s not a subject I rather talk about with you, Little Yara.”

“I understand. I won’t pry.”

“Cool,” Erik takes a hit of his blunt, cheeks blowing out as they filled with smoke, “Seeing anybody?”

“Nope. I haven’t for the past three months. Been trying to stay focused. Men are a distraction.”

“Y’all women are too,” Erik laughs, smoke escaping his nose.

Yara cocked her head, “So, my guess is you aren’t seeing anyone either.”

Erik licks his lips, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Does that include sex too?”

Erik clapped his hands together while chuckling, “Ahhhh, shit, Yara, did you just ask me about my sex life? Are you having sexxxxxxx?!

“I did. And I’m grown, ERIK, so yes, I’m having sex,” Yara gave a half shrug while rolling her eyes.

“21, right? I remember when I was 21. Legally can drink now and everything. Too bad you still can’t hang with us,” Erik chuckles.

Yara gave Erik the finger, “fuck you, don’t play with me like that.”

“I’m just saying, I remember you graduating high school the last time I saw you. Now you’re in your 20s, barely.”

Yara lowered her head, “Will you always remember me like that? Like DAMN, I did grow up, nigga.”

Erik noticed the attitude in her voice, “You’re mad at me?”

“Just annoyed,” Yara stood up, grabbing her food, “I’m gonna eat in my room so I can look over this project I have to submit tomorrow. I’ll see you later, Erik.”

Confused, Erik watched Yara practically storm away. He didn’t understand why his words offended her so much. It’s just what Erik is used to. He’s used to seeing Yara so young not a 21 year old adult. It was all still so new to him. Deciding not to chase after her, Erik gets up from the couch to retrieve his shoes so he could grab his drink from his car.

———————

Yara couldn’t even focus.

She was really bothered by Erik’s comments.

It was mainly because every time he cracked jokes she thought about her kissing him. He probably cracked jokes about that too. Clearly, Erik couldn’t look past the fact that Yara is Mike’s little sis. She really thought he was past that when he first laid eyes on her. She could tell what a look of lust was in a man’s eyes since Yara often receives that look. Erik’s eyes were gleaming with desire and attraction. He almost looked shocked that it was Yara. Then, the way he looked her up and down. His eyes damn near gaped when she noticed him staring while she was in the kitchen. Pupils flared and all. Now, it was as if he was trying to hide the attraction he has towards her after three years. Yara was disappointed honestly. She always thought the next time she ever saw Erik they would honestly re-do that kiss and possibly have sex. If Yara had the choice to go back and lose her virginity it would have been with Erik.

Glancing at her phone, Yara noticed it was around 7:45 PM. Luckily, the bar she worked at wasn’t too far from her. Yara didn’t drive so she usually walked or caught an Uber. Lifting from her soft and fluffy floor cushion, Yara grabs her white cotton towel and soap sponge to take a shower. Leaving her room, she could hear Erik watching a basketball game. Yara closes her bedroom door, walking across to the bathroom, closing the door behind her softly. She began to undress, stripping her clothes from her body into a wrinkled pile on the floor near the sink. Opening the medicine cabinet, Yara grabs her Dove sensitive skin body wash and exfoliating spin brush. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about Erik being in the living room right now while she was naked in the bathroom. There was no way Yara could ignore the growing dampness between her legs. She hadn’t been wet to the thought of Erik in a very long time.

Luke warm water running, Yara pulled the tribal patterned shower curtain back, stepping inside carefully not to slip on the the shower mat, then closing the curtain behind her. Yara forgot to pin her hair up but she needed to wash her hair anyway so she allowed it to grow wet while she wet her body completely. Grabbing her exfoliating brush and the body wash, Yara applied the body wash to her curvy body, turning on her brush and in a circular motion, began to cleanse her skin from the neck down. She had a separate skin care routine and a spin brush for that as well. Yara lifts her leg on the side of the tub to wash behind her thighs, the warm water running down her ass and to her pussy. Yara felt extra tingly between her legs. She didn’t have time to rub off in the shower and she forgot her favorite vibrator in her bed room. Groaning, Yara tried to ignore it as best as she could while scrubbing the top of her feet.

————————

Erik sat cross-faded with his eyes sitting low. The basketball game was just background noise for him. Bored out of his mind, Erik really wanted to go and talk to Yara. He didn’t want to approach her on some awkward shit but at the same time he missed talking to her. Erik remembers how he used to talk and goof off with Yara from her doorway when they were younger. Micheal is very long-winded and sitting on the couch will eventually lead to Erik falling asleep. Erik leans forward on his elbow to peek down the hall where Yara’s bedroom is located. The hall was brightly lit from the light and he couldn’t tell which room was hers exactly. All the damn doors looked the same.

“Fuck it,” Erik places his phone on the coffee table, rising from the couch and making his way down the hall. Hands in his pockets, Erik approaches the first door. He knocks, no sound, twisting the knob and opening the door. It was Mikes room. Erik closes the door, walking further down the hall and approaching a door to his right. The light was on, he could tell from the glow beneath the door. Erik knocks, no sound. He grabs the brass knob, twisting it, then opening. Standing there, Erik’s chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. His mouth hung open and his eyes went round as if they were about to fall out of their sockets. He gawked at the sight of Yara before him. A sight he never imagined in a million years he would see up until now.

Yara was arched over the bathtub with her ass pointed straight out at Erik. Erik could smell cleaning products; Fabuloso from what it smelled like. The water in the tub was on full blast as Yara cleaned the porcelain. Her body was still wet and she had a T-shirt wrapped around her hair. Yara’s ass jiggled each time she scrubbed the tub out. She wasn’t aware of his presence. Erik was so stunned by her naked body and the fact that he walked in on her that he couldn’t even speak.

Too late.

Yara lifts her body up, turning to place the scrub brush on the floor near the tub, her eyes catching Erik standing within the entrance to the bathroom. Yara felt as if her heart was leaving her body. Shell-shocked almost. Now, her breasts were revealed to him. Large, big brown areolas and nipples soaking wet and dripping, curvy waistline glistening with water down to her waxed mound and thighs. Pretty toes painted white with a tattoo of a rose on her left foot. Yara looked appetizing. Yara bit her lip bashfully, eyes glossy as if she wanted to cry from embarrassment, her hands reaching out to the toilet to grab her folded towel. Yara presses her lips together to try and stop her lower lip from trembling and eyes her looked heavenward.

Yara spoke with a shaky voice, “I-Why didn’t you knock? Erik?”

Erik didn’t respond. His eyes were ablaze staring straight at her face. He felt turned on but at the same time he felt guilty. Luckily, Yara couldn’t see how fat and long his dick had gotten within his jeans. She couldn’t hear him, maybe he should have knocked harder. Yara’s hands were shaking and she couldn’t meet his eyes. She was overly embarrassed and not at all prepared. Yara crosses her thighs, pressing the towel further into her chest.

“...I knocked. I should have knocked again. Shit, Yara, I’m sorry-“

“Just-it’s cool,” Yara sized Erik up before rolling her eyes, “Can’t go back now, yeah?”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Yara,” Erik felt like shit, “I’m so so so sorry, Yara.”

“Erik, stop with the apologizing,” Yara drew in a long breath.

“I’m just gonna go,” Erik turns away, walking out of the bathroom. Yara stayed rooted to the spot, her hand pressing further into her chest to calm her rapid heart beat. As always whenever Yara felt embarrassed, she sighed before laughing quietly to herself. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Yara shook her head at what just happened. She was afraid to even look Erik in his eyes now. He saw her in full on nudity. Not in her panties and bra, not in a swimsuit, not wrapped with a fluffy towel, no, fully naked.

Twirling a strand of hair that fell from under the T-shirt, and chewing on her cuticles, Yara gathered herself before leaving the bathroom. She places the cleaning products back in its designated basket under the sink before grabbing her sponge. Yara walked out of the bathroom, entering the hallway and her eyes disobeying her as she nervously glanced into the living room. There seated on the couch with his eyes focused on her, was Erik. Like a magnet, Yara couldn’t pull her eyes away. It was as if he waited to see her leave.

Yara raised a hand in greeting.

He waved.

Yara hung her head, a small smile on her face.

Erik did the same thing before looking at her again.

“I hope this doesn’t make it weird between me and you,” Yara says.

“Never,” Erik spoke with his deep voice, “it could never be weird with you.”

Yara licks her lips, eyes set with long lashes blinking slowly at Erik.

“What are you thinking?” Erik asks while leaning forward on his elbows.

“I’m...I...just-forget it-“

“Nah, tell me.” Erik pushes his eyes searching.

“Mike will be back soon, I have to get dressed.”

“He ain’t back yet,” Erik tilts his head at her, “Don’t be so shy. It’s me, Erik.”

“But it’s what I’m thinking that I shouldn’t be,” Yara crosses her ankles in front of her while staring at her toes.

“Well, I wanna know.”

Yara fidgeted with her fingers before looking up at Erik through her lashes, “I was thinking that I’m glad you saw me like that. I’ve always wanted you to see me like that. Sorry I stormed away like I did earlier.”

Erik swallows spit, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Erik has to look away himself, scratching his nose. He wasn’t prepared for that response at all. Little Yara always wanted him to see her naked. He knew she had a school girl crush on him. No wonder why she didn’t rush to cover herself even though she still looked embarrassed.

“No worries, ma. Uh,” Erik scratches his dreads, “So...you’ve always wanted me to see you naked?”

Yara toyed with a lock of hair, “Yeah...” she spoke with her voice barely above a whisper.

“You shouldn’t talk like that, little Yara, you’ll get yourself in trouble.”

They way he said that sounded so dangerous like fucking with him was the last thing any women would want to do. But Erik didn’t understand, that was ALL Yara wanted to do. He was back, if she didn’t make a move now he would be gone again.

“It’s been a while since you’ve seen me, Erik, I dabbled in trouble,” Yara spoke with a honeyed tone.

“Maybe you should get in that bedroom before Mike gets here then,” Erik says with a sly smirk.

“Yeah, maybe,” Yara giggles before letting out a sigh,

“Bye, Erik.”

“Bye, Yara.”

She didn’t want to move. She really wanted Erik to get up and follow her into her bedroom.

“What you waiting on?” Erik says inclining his head towards the bedroom, “Get in there, little Yara.”

“Come with me?” Yara says before she could even stop herself.

Erik’s eyes dropped and his lips parted. Eyes fully closed now, he clenched his jaw to try and calm his dick. Too bad it was already growing stiff in his jeans. The way she told him to come with her. Such a tempting little thing. Nothing he expected Yara to ever say to him. She’s right, she definitely is a grown women now. Erik wondered what that body could really do.

“I’m-im Sorry,” Yara’s brows creased, eyes cast down at her hands, “I’m being a little too bold right now.”

Erik looked towards the door, then back at Yara. He took in the sight of her barely able to keep that towel around her body.

“You mean what you said? You’re not playing games?” Erik asks with a serious tone, “Cuz if I get up off this couch and come with you, you’re getting all of me, girl.”

“I know,” Yara bites her bottom lip, “I know what I want.”

The way her lips pouted and her eyes looked up at him all innocent caused Erik to stand up slowly from the couch. Erik drew his lower lip between his teeth hands in his jeans pockets before stepping forward. Yara’s lower lip trembled and her breath came out in short gasps. Standing directly next to her now, towering over her with his large intimidating frame, was Erik looking down at Yara with awe transforming his face. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Yara began to walk forward towards her bedroom. Yara twisted the handle, turning to face Erik before opening the door. Erik followed her into darkness, Yara turning to face him with timid eyes. Erik raised a single brow at her, silently asking her if she was sure about this. Yara swallows spit before nodding her head slowly. Erik licks his lips before closing that door behind him, the light that illuminated the hallway disappearing.

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