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lemonjoonah · 4 years ago

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Wrapped Together (M)

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

| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |

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

...

-5 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you been doing this long?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So we're in the same boat?”

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

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

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

“Yes, thank you so much!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, they don’t!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

“Even the gift cards?”

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

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

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

“You’d be willing to show me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That I could drive?”

You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time.

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

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

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

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you like it there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

“Hey, how was work?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-2 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

“I’ll be fine.”

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

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

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

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

“What was that about?”

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

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Namjoon nods looking down with guilt.

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

“What? No, of course not.”

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

“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.

“Boyfriend?”

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

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

...

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

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

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

“Buying art for the museum are you?”

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

“Not because you would love a drive?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

KNJ: Are you awake?

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

YN: Yeah, everything okay?

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

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

YN: They’re chestnuts.

KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔

YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥

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

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

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

“And let me guess, a prince?”

“You know it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?”

“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”

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

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

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

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

“Eleven okay with you?”

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A win-win.”

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

“Which do you prefer more?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“What, what happens now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? You would do that?”

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

“What are you doing-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

“You make it sound so easy.”

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

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

“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm.

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

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

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

...

-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

“No, not at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t even begin to thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-2 Days Until Christmas-

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

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

The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.

KNJ: Just pulling in.

YN: Be right down.

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

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

“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Valerie...” Eric growls.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, does she- do they-”

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

“Why would he be cautious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When the door opens you find yourself in a hallway amidst what you can only describe as a snowstorm. The walkway, made to look like an alley set adrift in snow, with flickering lights and paper creations hanging from the ceiling. “Did you make any of those?” You ask, grinning as you squint through the flurrying beams.

“No, I left those to the talents of the students who came by on school field trips. It didn’t take them long before we had enough.”

“Find any new prodigies?”

“Several.” He answers, before pointing to the mounted photos on the wall. “But these works here are some of my favourites.” The pictures are framed to seem as though the viewer is looking in through the pains of a window to happy holiday scenes. From unwrapping presents around the tree to the busy crowds of your very own mall, each image sets out to draw from you a sense of nostalgia.

“I can see why.” You find yourself lingering on the last of the photos by an accredited local photographer, savouring the display as much as you can, worried that it might end too soon.

“Don’t worry,” Namjoon whispers, taking your hand in an eager urge to press on, “There’s plenty more to look at.” He points to the end of the hallway, where you find another door, though this one is dressed with a knocker and wreath looking as if it’s the entrance to someone's home.

You open the door to reveal a series of rooms connected by one long hallway. The first you step into you washes over you with warmth and comfort, the sound of a cracking fire surrounds you while the light of fake embers flows from the side. Set up through the room are tables of items from old to new ranging from Christmas tree ornaments, and household decorations to handwritten cards. “All of these-”

“Were loaned by families from the region, they gave a piece of their history and traditions up for most of the season so everyone could enjoy it. Over here we have...”

You could spend hours sitting and admiring in this room alone, but more than anything you want to push on more to see Namjoon’s excitement in sharing it with you. Each room features a different spot of the home. A chilly shed with vintage toboggans and sleds, a kitchen, stuffed with cookbooks and the smells of baking featuring countless cookie cutters of every shape and size.

The next room is a little unusual and different from the rest, throwing you off for a moment, when the distinct scent of pine hits your nose. In the centre you find what look to be the replication of a massive trunk, and above false branches twinkling with lights. All round in a circle you find toys in glass cases spanning generations, when it hits you. “Are we under the Christmas tree?”

Namjoon gives you his coveted dimpled grin. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“I do. I can’t believe you managed all of this.” You exclaim hurrying between each display like a kid on Christmas morning. From wagons, and Rubik’s cubes, all the way to Furbies and gaming systems he has the whole collection of popular toys throughout the years.

Namjoon beams with pride once you’ve circled the entirety of the fake trunk and the presents beneath it. “Only one room left, but I think you’ll like this one the most.”

You're ushered into the next, a dimly lit space, a bed with a quilted cover stands in the centre, and on the walls you find countless story books, pinned open to so their stunning art is on display, papering the room with climatic holiday scenes and loveable characters. In one you find Scrooge meeting the ghost of Christmas past, in another you witness the Grinch save the sleigh from a perilous fall. Namjoon was right, this is without a doubt your favourite. While people filter in and out, you take your time looking at each set of pages. Your pace slow and steady, until you reach the special story that stops you entirely, the book you lost long ago, and have been trying to find ever since. Drawn on the pages before you is a little blue koala, with a pale purple nose, round ears, and a smile that lights up his face as he cuts out dozens of snowflakes. Namjoon stands behind you with a hand on your shoulder as you gaze at the book you know to be titled ‘Koya’s Christmas.’

You take a deep breath, while trying not to bend to the tears that threaten to break from your eyes. Focusing your attention instead to seek out the owner of the book, but unlike most there is no nameplate attached to this desirable artifact. “Namjoon, who loaned this? Is there any way I could contact them?”

When he gives you a sad smile, your gut clenches over the possibility that this might be a similar issue to what happened at the auction, a lender who wishes to remain anonymous. The only difference here being that you’ll fight Namjoon for the information if you have to. You’ve already let this book escape from you last year, you refuse to let it happen again. “Please, I’ll-” Just when you are about to plead with Namjoon’s integrity, another memory of your past walks into the room, but this one unfortunately has more tragic ties. “Shit,” you whisper, shifting to put your date between you and the newcomer.

Namjoon catching the change in your expression immediately reaches out in concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

“There's someone I know just over there,” You nod in the direction behind Namjoon. “I’d like to avoid him if I can. Sorry, it-it’s complicated. ”

Namjoon puts his hands on your shoulders, eyeing a path the closest exit without letting go of you. “Do you want to leave?”

“If that’s okay?” And just when you thought you were free, when you were ready to make a break for the door. The man in question, spots you and calls out your name.

You turn to face him, trying your best to keep your tone even and your lips pulled into a smile. “Jackson? Hey, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s been so long, not since...” Thankful he stops, not dragging up the subject you wish to avoid.

Namjoon moves closer, moving his arm from your shoulder around your waist, a comforting and protective gesture. “Dr. Wang... I had no idea the two of you were acquainted.”

“You know him?” You ask Namjoon, your concern rocketing over what else your date might become privy to.

“Dr. Wang was the phone bidder. I invited him here tonight to see the work we do.”

“The exhibit was impressive, I can’t wait to see what you have planned next.” Jackson confirms.

“I should go and let the two of you discuss-” You ready to step away when Namjoon’s hand grabs yours and Jackson calls your name again.

“No reason for you to leave, we should catch up.”

“May-maybe later?” You plead with him fighting back the tears, pushing down the memories his presence drags up. “Sorry I just, I need to go.”

You pull your hand free and race to the exit.

“Wait.” You can hear Namjoon call behind you. Though you continue to proceed out the exhibit and towards the closest exit outside, breaking into the cold evening air, only to find that he still followed. “Let me call for the car and we can go together.”

You stop in realization that your running will not deter him, he’ll pursue you unless you give him a reason otherwise. “No you should stay, this is your big event, I won’t ruin it for you.”

“Not without you.”

“Please Namjoon,” you beg, adamant that he return. “I don’t belong in there, I don’t fit in and I never will. Even when I try...” The ghosts of your past have a way of finding you and destroying your facade.

“I’ve told you before you belong in there more than anyone else-”

“That’s not true. I can barely keep myself together. I can’t, I can’t go back in, I'm sorry.”

“I don’t understand, what does Dr. Wang have to do with it? Did he hurt you? Did he-”

“No! No, he did nothing of the sort. Jackson was always very kind to me. Don’t let me affect your plans or any arrangement, you should go back and talk to him, I just can't be there.”

“You think I’m going to just drop you for him, especially when he makes you so uncomfortable? No, I’m leaving with you.”

“Fuck, just... please listen to me. He is a good man, he’s a good doctor, you would be foolish to give up this chance.”

“A good doctor...” Namjoon pauses as a grimace hits his face. “Does he have something to do with your mother?”

“How-How do you know about that?”

“I didn’t mean to pry, I swear. It's just, when I was first talking to Emma about you, out of concern she opened up about your past... about your mother, about your loss.”

“She told you?” Aunt Emma, you should have known she would do something like that, god forbid at least one person not know your history. “Then all of this, these past few weeks were they all out of pity?” You should have known, there was no way he would like someone like you. It was all out of sorrow for what you’ve been through.

“Not pity no, I like you, I like you a lot. When Emma said you were pushing her and so many others away... I concealed it out of fear of losing you too. I wanted you to open up about it until you were ready. I was just trying to help you get through this.”

You look up at the museum, drawing a distressing connection between Namjoon’s daily life and you. “Why? You think I’m some abandoned project you rescued from a deceased’s estate? One for you to mend, and later show like an achievement? You should have just left me where I was, instead of breaking me further.”

Namjoon’s hands immediately pull back from you. “I never meant to hurt you. Only help you move on, you can’t deny that you are frozen in place. You have so much more potential, but you're living in denial.”

“I live there because it hurts less...” You snap back in fury, as he exposes your painful flaws. “I live there so I can work, so I can help others.”

“But what about you? When will you let someone help you?”

You step away unable to answer his question, turning your back on him you race to the sidewalk to hail a nearby taxi, refusing to let him see a single tear fall.

Once home, you crawl into bed after throwing the dress to the floor. This was so far from the evening you had hoped it to be, with you instead left alone to ruminate on Namjoon’s words. Despising all the evidence he laid bare against you, turning it over again and again in your mind until your morning alarm startles you out of your stupor. Signalling for the last shift before your break for the holidays.

...

-Christmas Eve-

It’s finally here, the worst of all days at the call centre. With your eyes heavy from a lack of rest you take a seat at your desk with an extra large coffee in hand. On your computer you have this morning's team email pulled up, and attached to it a list of de-escalation tactics. You’ll need them today because if people don’t get their package by the end of the routes this evening, there’s no hope for tomorrow morning.

The call board on your phone is already lighting up like a Christmas tree, but you know those little embers to be fuelled by wrath, fury and unkept promises of delivery dates.

You try your best to remain calm during the egregious conversations. Offering up tips and tricks to parents who are worried that this will be the year that their child gives up on Santa because your company failed to deliver.

Your lunch break can’t come soon enough. But when you finally check your own phone it’s littered with texts from Namjoon. Messages of concern, apologies, and the hopes that he will still see you at the wrapping station tonight. He even sent a picture of your abandoned coat and promised to bring it along.

Fuck, you had completely forgotten about you wrapping shift together. Just one more night, then you can put it all behind you again. If you can just keep your cover for a few more hours then it’ll all be over and Aunt Emma will have what she was promised.

You send Namjoon a quick message confirming that you will be there, but not promising any more before you head back to your desk.

The calls get progressively worse with several people using foul language and demanding to speak to your supervisor, you try to talk them down as best you can knowing any call passed on to the higher ups will reflect poorly on your efforts.

Until one woman calling in search of her package finally wears you down, insulting you, your profession, even your family.

“Ma’am I’m sorry but if you continue to speak to be in such a way I am well within my right to disconnect the call.” A desperate bluff, your superiors would rather them end the call than you, you’ve been penalized for it before, and you’ll be damned if it happens again. But unfortunately she calls your hand.

“You will not! I have spent hours on the line trying to reach anyone. The shortsightedness of your company and staff is all too apparent.”

“It’s the holiday sea-”

“I know what time of year it is, but it seems your staff doesn’t realize Christmas is tomorrow!”

“You ordered your package past the guarantee date, we could not insure-”

“Now you listen to me, if there was any form of intelligence in that office you’d be working hard to ensure that all packages make it out before tomorrow morning, but instead you just sit on your ass fielding phone calls and giving excuses so you don’t have to actually go out and do honest labour. You must be the biggest disappointment to your family, not even having a proper job. How can you go home and face them knowing you've left so many without their gifts?”

With the woman's last insult, something inside you finally snaps, giving you the freedom to do what you’ve dreamed of for so long. “I don’t,” you pronounce, building up to take your final shot at both her and your employment. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to let you go, as I’d rather not listen to your nonsensical bitching. So merry fucking Christmas to you ma’am, I suggest you go spend it with your own family if they’re willing to put up with your pompous ass.” You hang up the phone and pull off the headset, refusing to answer the next blinking light that comes on to replace it.

You just sit there looking at it denying the next caller their chance at verbal abuse, and your company's lax policy to protect you from it. The chatter of apologies continue to echo around you as your coworkers press on, but after the years of abuse you can no longer hold it in. Your company always said that this position was a stepping stone to greater things, that opportunities would come you just had to wait a little longer, but after being shackled by circumstances, and no forthcoming higher step to take, you refuse to press on any longer.

...

You pull into the mall parking lot, far too early for your slot at the wrapping stand, with the contents of your desk now stationed in the trunk of your car. Taking refuge in the women's bathroom cleaning your face of the tears you shed on the way over as you try not to think too much about what you’ve just done. After refusing to concede and admit to any wrong doing you quit, telling them to shove their shitty policies right back where they came from.

Namjoon was right... and with the mall closing early tonight you’ll only have two hours with him, two hours to smooth the tension over and allow for an amicable goodbye while maintaining your cover.

He’s already waiting for you, with your coat in hand, when you show up. The look of pity that you never wanted to see grace his face directed at you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine... I just would prefer if we didn’t talk about last night. I’m sorry for what I said, and now I just want to let it all go if that’s okay with you?” You smile up at him extending the olive branch.

Namjoon nods looking down at the floor as his hands habitually fold a scrap piece between his fingers. The silence between you is drowned out by the carols echoing down the emptying halls of the mall.

“Didn’t expect it to be so slow.” Namjoon mutters after what seems like an age with no one coming to the stand.

“On Christmas eve? Yeah generally people are home by now, spending time with their-” You force yourself to stop, unable to say a word which will bring sorrow to your heart and loneliness to Namjoon’s.

“I’m sorry I can’t do this,” Namjoon interjects. “I want to talk about last night, I need to talk about it.”

“Now is not the time.”

“There’s no one here but you and me. It’s just us, the mall is closing, it's our last shift, if not now when?”

“Anytime but now. The last twenty-four hours have been the worst in my life since-since...” You take a deep breath burying the wave of sadness and regret back down in your chest refusing to let it out. “Please, just forget it okay?”

“Not until you stop shielding yourself like that.” Namjoon scolds you. “I’m tired of you living in fear that your tears will erode your cover, and that your anger will tear it away entirely. I’m tired of you thinking that people will only appreciate you if you maintain this perfectly wrapped state. You might think it’s pretty, that it’s convenient for everyone else, but you are only keeping others out.”

“Maybe I keep it on so that you won’t be disappointed in what you find when it’s discarded. A sad woman, with no direction, no dreams, unable to cope with loss, and I suppose I can add unemployed to the list now. Is that what you want to see? Is that what you want to find?”

“That’s not all you are... and as for your job, I’m sorry but fuck it. It’s about time you moved on to better things, that place was only holding you back, you deserve so much more.”

“No I don’t, do you want to know why I worked there? Do you? I took that job to make sure she got the care she needed. I promised her when she got better I would quit and find something else, but she never did. But if I leave now I’m accepting the fact that she’s gone... that she doesn’t need me anymore, because I couldn’t do enough to keep her here.” The first tear falls breaking through the long standing divide.

“Staying there wouldn’t have brought her back. Tormenting yourself by remaining frozen in place, won’t bring her back. It’s Christmas for god sake and you are being kind to everyone else but yourself.”

“This isn’t Christmas for me. If it was, she would be here... not you. I’m tired too. I'm so tired of looking at her chair and- and-”

Namjoon wraps his arms around you pulling you forward as your emotions tear through the shroud. He moves you to the back of the vacant store sitting you among the boxes. “I’ll be right back okay?” You nod, while he tugs the table in and drags the gate down to indicate that you are now closed. When he returns his eyes too are starting to redden. His hands brush through your hair, the side of his palm pressing on your cheek and catching your tears. After seeing one of his own fall you crush yourself against his chest, clinging harder to him than before. His lips touch the top of your head, his hands rubbing on your back and arms as he waits, waits for you to be the first to pull away. The lights for every other store shut off around you the music lowers, all that’s left is the retreating chatter of those going to celebrate the eve of Christmas, and still you hold on to him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good substitute.” He whispers, encouraging you to finally lean back and admit your denial, accepting his efforts to help, when you yourself wanted to do the same for him.

“Don’t say that, it was never going to be a happy holiday for me, just something I needed to get past. But for you, I at least wanted to make yours better, I’m sorry I wasn’t a very good one either.”

“You never were a substitute. You were the one I wanted to spend the holidays with. A different Christmas than usual but no less enjoyable.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” You smile, but you doubt it’s true. “I suppose we should go...”

“What about all the supplies?”

“Emma will come by in a few days to collect it all.” You grab the small donation from the lock box and seal it in the plastic pouch, while Namjoon rummages through his own bag. “Do you still want a ride home?”

“If you're offering, I would love one.” The flap of his satchel closes as he stops his search and instead goes with you to the bank and finally your car. You hadn’t checked the forecast for tonight so finding your car buried in a few inches of snow comes as an unexpected sight. At least with Namjoon’s help cleaning it off is a quick task.

Once inside you both warm your hands on the sputtering heater, changing them on the wheel as you continue to thaw your fingers while you drive.

“Do you have any plans for the next couple of days?” Namjoon presses, though hesitant in his tone.

“Maybe look for some jobs, and take a good long nap?” You answer with a dark chuckle, still preferring to miss the entire holiday if you could. “You?”

“No, nothing in mind. But if you wake up and want to come over, you're more than welcome to spend it at my place.”

You return both hands to the wheel as the road becomes more difficult to drive on, your tires slipping here and there on the ice beneath the snow. “I’ll think about it, though depending on how much snow we get tonight we might both be stranded at home.”

You pull through the neighbourhood gates and up Namjoon’s driveway. With the car stopped he once again dives into his leather bag and pulls out a thin rectangular gift he looks to have wrapped himself. Dressed as per usual, with far to many pieces of tape, he hands it over to you. “I know this won’t make up for everything, but I want you to have this. Consider it a very belated Christmas gift.”

“Belated? But Christmas isn’t until tomorr-” You take the present and succeed in pulling back the wrapping to reveal the book that you were reunited with just the night before. “Oh...” You look up from the cover to find the return of the sad smile on his face you saw in the museum. “But if this is late then, last Christmas, it-it was you? You were the one at the stand... with this?”

...

-One Year Ago-

You are counting down the hours and minutes until the mall closes, until you can pick your mother up from her doctor's appointment and head home, to your promised tradition of putting up the decorations. The past few weeks have been so busy, with work, volunteer shifts, and her treatments at the hospital, you’ve made it all the way to Christmas eve with the tree and ornaments still packed away in boxes, sitting in the corner of your living room since December first.

Aunt Emma is currently taking your mother’s position at the cashbox, thanks to the scheduling of the last minute check up. You light up your phone again checking the time, only an hour left.

“You can head out if you want my love,” Aunt Emma offers while swaying and humming to the carols. “It’s quiet enough for me to manage myself.”

You grin embarrassed by your desire for a hasty departure. “No it’s fine. I’m still waiting for the phone call to say she’s done, otherwise I’ll just end up waiting at the hospital.”

“Suit yourself.” She stands up to look down the halls of the mall. “Oh, I think we might have someone, he’s heading this way. He’s cute too, you should give him your number and put that mother of yours at ease.”

“Aunt Emma, I don’t need your dating-” You look in the direction she was speaking of losing the rest of your words when you find a tall beaming man coming closer to your station.

“If you need me I’ll just be in the back fetching more ribbon.”

“But we have plenty.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” She waves herself off when he makes it to your table.

“Hi,” He greets you with the warmest smile and an even tone. “I was wondering if I could get these wrapped together?” He holds up a bag of gifts which he hands over to you.

“Of course. Any preference on paper?”

“Whatever you think is best, it’s for my mom. Just a bottle of her favourite perfume and something a little more special.”

You open the bag to find a small box containing the fragrance, and the other what looks to be a kids picture book. But what initially seems to be an odd choice for his mother, slams your chest with nostalgia when you see the cover and read the title.

“Koya’s Christmas.” You laugh with delight, you can’t stop yourself from smiling when you examine the artistry. The memories it brings back is enough to make your eyes well with tears.

“You know it?” The man asks, looking pleasantly stunned.

“Know it? I had it memorized as a child. I loved it so much I couldn't bear it when it was packed away at the end of Christmas each year.”

“Me neither, I flat out refused to let it go, I read it year round to the point where our old copy is currently falling apart on the shelf. Even made snowflakes to put in my windows like he did.”

“That’s right, that scene was one of my favourites. May I?” You gesture asking him for permission to look through it. He nods just as excited as you by the concept of something so sentimental. As you flip through the book you recall the beautiful storyline of a koala living in Australia, one who is so upset that they must celebrate Christmas in the summer, never getting to have a while Christmas described in the songs and shown in the movies. But once Koya talks to the leaves in the trees, and the other small animals of the forest, the realization hits that none of them would be able to stay there if it was cold enough for snow.

You are so close to tears when you reach the page where the little koala realizes it’s more important to have friends for the holiday than the frozen flurries. Proceeding to stay up all night cutting out perfect snowflakes to hang in the windows for all to enjoy at the family's Christmas Eve party.

“Where did you find a copy? I’ve looked for so long, I lost my own in the move here.”

“I actually found it by chance, amongst a bunch of rare second-hand books at an auction.” The man itches at the back of his head. “Sorry, I can’t be of more help in locating another.”

“No it’s fine. I’m just glad I got to see it again. I’ll have to tell my own mom that I was lucky enough to see a copy, she loved it as much as I did.”

You quickly wrap the two gifts in the one sheet as requested. Handing it back to him before you can be tempted enough to make an excessive offer of your own on his mothers gift.

“Thanks again.” He hands you two twenties for the donation. “My mom usually helps me with the wrapping but I didn’t want her to see this, you’ve made her Christmas.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

When he walks off you notice that he makes several glances back to you, holding a smile each time.

“So did you get his number?” Aunt Emma pokes her head back out from the stock area. “Maybe his social media, his dick-dock or whatever it is you kids do these days?”

“No, I did not get his tiktok.” You answer, unable to contain your laughter. “I was distracted by-” You’re ready to defend yourself when your phone starts vibrating on the table, the screen lit up with the number of your mother’s doctor’s office. You answer it, excited to share your account of the book. “Hey mom, you all finished? You’ll never believe what I just wrapped-”

“Sorry dear this is Laurie, I’m just calling on behalf of Dr. Wang’s office. We were hoping you could come by as soon as you can, the doctor would like to meet with both you and your mother before she leaves for the day.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be right down.” You hang up the phone taking a deep swallow of fear, the moment of happiness and nostalgia vanishing with the prospect of the news to come. It’s never been a good sign when they’ve wanted to meet with you both in person.

Aunt Emma catches on in an instant, pushing your coat on your shoulders and your purse in your hand. “Go, I’ve got this. You give your mother a big hug for me, and I’ll stop by soon to see you.”

...

While you try to relive, to pull back and hold on to, that moment from a year ago, Namjoon nods confirming your suspicions.

You mentally kick yourself for not recognizing him, for not remembering a single thing about him except your connection with the book. But after everything you had gone through, in that night alone, the devastating news regarding your mothers health had blacked out everything else. You took her home that night, trying not to cry, trying to be strong for her. Helping her into bed for some much needed rest, leaving your previous plans boxed up in the corner... where they remain to this very day. And the year only got worse leaving your mind engaged elsewhere, far from the man with the kind smile and similar taste in literature. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you sooner.”

“No, it’s fine, it was a while ago, and I’m the one who should be sorry,” He whispers. “The moment I stepped outside that day, I realized you needed it more than my mother needed a second. I went back, but you were already gone. I was selfish though, rather than leaving it with another, I wanted to be the one to give it to you myself, I wanted to see you, to talk to you again, and so I kept it. I even put it in the exhibit on the chance that you might find it. When I met Emma at the museum and found out that you’d be doing the fundraiser again it seems like fate, but then I heard about what had happened since I saw you last. I realized how foolish I had been, how I had stolen your chance to share it with her before she passed.”

You reach up to your face attempting to wipe away the tears before Namjoon can see anymore, but he catches your hands before you can hide your grief.

“When you saw the book that day, you have no idea the impact it had on me. Watching you react, your emotions so close to the surface. You didn’t care where you were, what you were doing, all you could see was the memory in front of you. I wanted to create that for everyone.”

“Then the museum exhibit-”

“Was a result of my meeting you, my breakthrough idea which got me a chance to curate was thanks to your reaction. I was going to tell you when we were there, why you deserved to be there more than anyone else, but everything fell apart so quickly.”

“I’m so sorry, I never intended to ruin your night. I just-” You take a deep breath, finally letting out the words you’ve been holding back. “I was scared. Jackson was one of my mother’s doctors, he was always friendly and kind to the point where my mother would joke that he would make the perfect son-in-law. We even went on a date, but when she passed... it was difficult, painful for me to see him again. Finding him there last night, I was so worried you would learn about what had happened, and that you would look at me with the same pity he did, so I ran.”

“You didn’t ruin it, I deserved what you said for not being more open with you about what I knew. I was scared of losing you. So no more running, no more hiding okay?”

You give him a nod, unable to speak through the tears as you gasp between sobs. He hugs you across the cars divide. “Now will you please come inside? At least for a bit. It’s Christmas Eve and I can’t let you go home like this. I have the snowflakes up and everything but we both know it’s not enough without someone else to see them with.”

You shake your head, now laughing despite the tears, “You really know how to reel me in.”

“I’m just admitting that I don’t want to be alone on Christmas,” He looks at you with a raised brow. “And I don’t think you want to be either.”

...

Namjoon’s house is the very opposite of your apartment, filled with warmth and light, wooden furniture and plants in every corner. The Christmas decorations bring another layer of himself into the fold. As promised, his window pains are full of snowflakes and the sills... you squint at several small blue lumps perched beside the glass. Moving closer you recognize them as clay koalas made by the skill and hands of a much younger age. Namjoon catches you staring at one position in a dozing state. He takes it off the ledge and hands it to you to give a better look.

“Careful with that one though,” He points to another figure stationed in the corner. “It’s ears like to fall off.” He rolls the round bit of clay out of position chuckling as it exhibits the trait.

“Did you make these?”

“When I was a kid. My mom held on to them.” Namjoon muses as he continues to fidget with the figurine. “She dropped off a box of decorations before going off to be with my sister and her family.”

“I’m glad she did.”

“Me too. But even with all the trimmings and decor here this year doesn’t feel quite normal.” He replaces them both in their rightful positions of honour and gestures to the massive couch behind you. “Make yourself comfortable,” he insists, before wandering off to the joint kitchen. “Is there anything I can get you to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you're having.” You take a seat on the monstrous cushions, which ease you in before swallowing you in comfort. Making it easy to see how this beast of a sofa has eaten several of his several earbuds.

“Beer okay?”

“Perfect.”

He comes round with the drinks and takes a seat beside you. Turning on the television he lets it play with low volume in the background so you might continue your conversation if you wished, but at the same time eases the pressure from you if you’d rather not.

You smile down at your beverage as the overly dramatic film plays out. Your mind still lingering on the damage that you might have caused with your hasty departure the night before.

“Have you talked to Jackson since, is he still going to loan the sketches?”

“He wants to, he sent me an email today saying so...” Namjoon pauses taking a sip of his drink, swirling the contents around in the can. “He asked if you were okay too. I haven’t responded yet, I wanted to talk to you first and get the full story, rather than speak on your behalf. But it’s clear he has feelings for you, if you told him how you felt, I’m sure you could still work things out if you wanted to.”

“No, I don’t think it’s feelings but his concern. He’s just too good of a person not to worry, and I’m sure his own guilt has a place in there too. Jackson and I never would have worked out, we went on that date, we didn’t have much in common, there was nothing there that I wanted to pursue, not like my time with you.”

Namjoon’s eyes perk open as he smiles. His arm reaches around, pulling you in to lean on his side and shoulder. As the strained plot plays out before you.

“Why do you insist on watching these.” You ask as your eyes become heavy after a few minutes. Leaning into Namjoon more he lays back putting his feet up and sliding you down with him to do the same. Your head now resting on his chest the deepness of his voice carrying down to your ear.

“They’re like the snowflakes-”

“A paper thin plot full of holes?”

“Funny and true, but not what I meant. I know they are by no means real, but they have this way of adding to the feeling of the season. I didn’t realize how much of a tradition it has become for me and my family until this year, when watching them alone just felt wrong. The movies were an excuse to sit down with them, to talk and laugh. The other night when I called, it wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep, I just wanted to spend the time with you.”

“But why me? You could have anyone, even Valerie seems to-”

“Why would I want anyone else when you helped me achieve something I’ve long dreamed of? You may think this cheesy but at the end of all these films, when everything comes together wrapped in a perfect bow, that’s how I’ve felt in every moment with you.”

“You’re right, very cheesy, but not unwanted.” You look up at him from his chest finding only sincerity in his face. “Now if we’re to continue in this similar Hallmark course of action, I do believe this would be the part where you kiss me again.”

“But I’m just the clumsy lead,” Namjoon jokes. “I’m pretty sure that’s your-” You lean in doing just that, cutting him off and pushing him against the couch as you kiss him. His chest quaking with silent laughter soon turns to rumbling groans as you fulfil the expectation of your role. “Though this would also be the part where I tell you we should wait before giving into temptation.”

Your nose scrunches up in displeasure over the notion of such abstinence. “Then let's omit that line, and go off script for the rest of the night.”

Namjoon takes his turn, flipping you over to push you down onto the plush cushions, where you sink under his weight. “Gladly,” he growls, his mouth trailing down your neck pulling on the collar of your sweater to seek further in.

Desiring the same you discard your own knit garment, before moving on to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, pushing it back until he is forced to tear his hands from the sleeves himself and whip it down to the ground.

Sliding between your thighs he wraps your legs around his back and picks you up off the couch. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he continues to kiss you while you squeal from being lifted into the air.

“Bedroom?” You ask, excited by the possible prospect.

He nods, looking up at you with a smirk. “If that’s okay? I’d rather not risk losing you to the couch too.”

You giggle at the notion, while Namjoon heaves you up again to get a better grasp, his mouth tucking into your chest. He fumbles for the door now behind you looking as though he might break it open if the knob won’t turn to his grappling grip. You reach back to assist and push it open. The cool air of the room hits you, causing you to cling to Namjoon’s warmth.

With two more steps you’re lowered onto the bed, where he grips the waist of your pants, unbuttoning and tearing them down your legs. Laying on the edge of the mattress, you watch as Namjoon kneels down between your legs. His hands glide up your bare legs and pause at the tops of your thighs massaging them as he asks to go further. “May I?”

You take his fingers and press them down on the dampening fabric. Namjoon groans and dips the tip of his index below the material peeking inside to find the warmth of your cunt. It’s a pity it’s so dark in the room, you would have liked to see his smile.

But it seems you're not alone in this desire, as Namjoon gets up and reaches over flicking on the lamp beside his bed. “No more hiding, I want to see you, all of you.”

“I want that too. I want you.”

He smiles kissing you with both hands before rolling over and pulling you on top of him. You return the favour by taking off his pants and boxer briefs releasing his erection. Running your fingers down the soft skin of his shaft, curling them around the base. Tilting his cock towards your mouth you take the tip, teasing your tongue on the rim of the head. Namjoon groans in delight, thrusting his hips up, you take it again as far as you can manage, enjoying his reactions to your tongue trails downward, tracing the swelling veins of his dick. With another drag of his cock you release him with the pop of your lips and he reaches down to grip your arms, breathing heavily with closed eyes.

“I thought you said you wanted to see me?” You chuckle at his undoing.

“I do, but I also want to last.”

“Condoms?” You ask, continuing to stroke his cock while you adjust to straddle his thighs.

“In there.” He mutters, pointing to his bedside table breathless and helpless to your touch. Only looking up when you have to free him to reach for the box and unwrap its contents. His own hands help you to roll it down his shaft.

You guide yourself down on his cock while Namjoon arches against his pillow and mattress. His fingers tracing up your stomach and ribs. You reach back to unclasp your bra just as he reaches your chest, and lean down into his touch.

With his firm grip you rock your hips clenching on his dick and grinding your clit on his pelvis. The louder he gets the faster you move, trembling as you chase your own high and pivoting down further. When Namjoon’s hands grip your hips pressing you into him the pressure becomes far too great pushing you over the edge, sending waves of pleasure through you until you collapse on his chest. He holds you in place as he thrusts from beneath, gasping as your climax continues, coaxing you to clench down on him, straining his thrusts until he comes.

Dotting the side of your face and neck with his lips at a soft and slow pace, he succeeds in forging another smile in your still gasping lips. He tilts you off and beside him in your blissful haze so he may dispose of the filled barrier. When returning to your grasp you cling to him and he you, dragging the covers up and over the both of you.

“I could get used to this.” You whisper, curling into his warmth. No longer afraid of the emotions that the holiday will bring. Glowing over the prospect of not facing Christmas morning alone, but wrapped together with Namjoon in the sheets of his bed. “Maybe even consider it a new tradition?” You joke with him looking up to witness his smile.

“If that’s a tradition...” Namjoon whispers, coming in for another kiss. “I plan on celebrating Christmas everyday for the foreseeable future.”

#bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #bts x reader #rm #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts christmas au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts wrapped together

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kaypeace21 · 3 years ago

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Will and the car on fire (theories)

*this is just under the assumption this is Will in the pic and not some other character. Which is still very possible .

Why it could be Will (it's for sure possibly not)

But, most of the rebuttals saying it's not Will are iffy. Cause we really don't have much evidence to point to any 1 character. Like the hair counterargument: that the hair is too long to be Will's .Will's s4 body double has a similar hair tuff on the back of his neck. And we know st uses camera shots of the back of Will's neck/silouette ,in past seasons . So doing so here could make sense. And Will of course is the most associated with fire: using fireball for Will the wise in s1 (3 times), the will the wise drawing from s2 had flames on his cloak, Will being being burned in s2,etc.

So...Will looking at lightning. And (Will?) looking at fire. Both have a dark full body sillhouete and red in the forefront .

We also see this character is possibly wearing a watch like Will?

And i've been hearing this a lot here ... but southern california (where the Byers are) does have a lot of trees lol. Not sure why people think otherwise.But, regardless a trip from cali to Hawkins would most certainly have some forrest.

*Also, any movies I’ll be mentioning (in the theories , below) were stated to be inspiration for ST.

So theories...

Theory 1) It's Joyce's car ( and it was rigged to explode/look like an accident by Brenner or Lonnie). And Will wasn't there but sees it in a nightmare cause it's already happened/or it's a dream vision of the future.

Evidence: CAR TROUBLES: Joyce’s car model was infamous for exploding in car accidents-being sued by the state of Indianna before the start of the series. We also have Alexi tell murray about a way to cause cars to explode-and turn people into dust (and make it look like an accident). Brenner’s name means “to burn” and he already hurt 1 mother to keep a subject -so not out of the realm of possibilities for him to hurt Joyce (and make it look like an accident to try and get Will and or el).

In s3, we have Jonathan and Hopper try and fix the car-and after this cars explode with people inside. Jonathan lifts the car hood- and notices someone rigged nancy’s car . Than, right after,Billy’s car lights on fire with him inside. With Hopper (he also lifts the car hood) and joyce barely escapes the lit car (but she may not be so lucky next time).

We also have Joyce tell Will 3x she’s going to be ok... which is a bit overkill if she will be OK ...

And, notice during the hoodlift we see Will observing- which is similar to Alexi watching and warning them before hand that the car (with Joyce inside) will explode. So it’s possible foreshadowing since Will may predict the future and was was paralleled to Alexi.Alexi ‘can we watch lonnie toons now?. Will : can we play d&d now?

movie inspos:

It’s hinted s4 will be around Will’s b day: In gilbert grape- Arnie after his b day, has his mom die, and a fire was stagged that lit his mom on fire. ( Before this,Arnie was also raised by his older brother Gilbert cause his dad wasn’t around). stoker- kid’s parent dies in staged car ‘accident’ on her bday (this allows ab*sive relative closer to kid-since dead parent banned him from seeing kid). The kid was taught how to hunt, by dad. And is also a painter and bullied at school (like Will). what dreams may come-painter blames themselves for fam dying in freak car accident- the relative was getting a present for them when it happened. so they blame themselves. The descent- also had (right before a b day, the main character’s fam dying in a car accident) .And the sole survivor/family member of the deceased hallucinates a shadow chasing her in a empty hospital hall. Get out-photographer (jonathan)blames himself for mother dying in car accident.

There’s also a lot of other films where the kid (for no logical reason) blames themselves for their mom’s/parent’s death: goodson, dream catcher, analyse this,etc. Of course ... this could simply relate to max and el having survivors guilt after the mall killed their family members (in a fake ‘mall fire’). However, a fake out fire causing family to die (in s3) could be foreshadowing for it actually happening in s4?

rigged car explosions: scarface -have guys try and bomb a car with kids and parent inside. backdraft -guy raised by older brother had 1 parent die in explosion and sees the freak explosion occur- later in the film someone rigs a car to explode and masks it as a freak car accident. Same thing occurs in godfather- he sees family member die in rigged car explosion. The dark knight- rigs car to explode. batman v superman- calls superman a demon and says they need to burn the witch that bore him (aka his mom).

dreams (if in the past): Never ending story (reffed in s3)- starts with kid with bowl cut saying he had another dream about his mother who died. Peanut butter solution- kid has visions in dreams about people he knew who died in fire. this next movie (emily rose) is said to be Joyce byers inspo according to Winona - has (kid with 2 personalities) have nightmares from the past of her and her mother burning in a car fire. while screaming/sleep walking she burns windows with her hands -accidentally using her powers. Some people suspect the videogame “life is strange’ is show inspo too- it has character named max caufield with a ‘never maxine rule’, etc. Anyways in the game prequel queer chloe, who plays d&d, would have dreams/nightmares of her nice parent’s car accident . Despite , chloe not being present for the car accident. After the parent’s death, she’s stuck with her mean step dad.

dreams (if predicting the future): Will says in s3 Will the wise can see into the future. We also see Will/Will the wise via a dream predict Hopper was in danger-saying to Joyce “he’s going to die”. In ‘12 monkeys’ and ‘Rebel Robin st novel’ they mention the myth of cassandra- who could make accurate future prophecies , but was cursed to never be believed by those she warned. In 12 monkeys- he tries warning others of a dreaded event in future- and it’s dismissed as him being mentally ill. Since, Will’s other abilities were dismissed as his ptsd in s2-and with the Byers fam having a family history of mental illness (they may not believe him over such a prediction). In ‘the ring’-the movie opens with the guardian saying the boy is drawing the car accident that killed his mom -as a psychological coping mechanism. Only for the teacher to say he made that drawing before his mother’s death (and it’s revealed later the boy is psychic). Terminator 2- sarah conner says she is having future visions, which include explosions, and everyone dismisses it as her being schizophrenic. Like how in s2 a scientist said about Will “let’s see if this boy is a wizard or a schizo”.

If joyce survives the accident she may be hospitlized (and unable to have legal custody). In black swan the girl (with 2 personas) -blames herself for what happened to Winona Ryder’s character (who is in a coma after a car accident. They had had a verbal fight before the accident). In girl with the dragon tattoo- the main character (who is compared to a phoenix and dragon) has 1 parent burned in a fire- and after this her kind guardian is hospitilized so they can no longer take care of her- and she is placed with an ab*sive foster dad (who resembles her bio dad). If Joyce was in a coma - it would further parallel her to terry- and be another willel parallel.

if dead: Tokyodrift- mom loses custody, and dad who is a mechanic and abandoned the family years ago, later gets custody. Super 8-mom dies in freak accident- douche dad gets custody. Book of henry-mom dies pre-film, ab*sive dad got custody. Outsiders- parents die in car wreck, relative gets custody of teen who he slaps etc.In black swan-girl who blames herself for Winona’s accident is stuck living with ab*sive parent. good son- mom dies, stuck with violent and manipulative relative after this.

Of course-joyce may be fine. And Lonnie may just visit for Will’s b-day and ruin shit that way.

Theory 2) It's an undercover government car that Will uses his powers against in self defense... or in anger after they hurt someone he loves.

Evidence:

Joyce about ‘Will the wise’: If he’s so wise, why does he need the fireballs? Why can’t he just outsmart the bad guys? Will: cause the bad guys are smart too. Joyce: so he needs the fireballs? Will: Yeah, to burn them to a crisp.

* the fact-this flashback happens at a funeral of a Byers, could also be narratively significant as foreshadowing.

Gov agents in s1 are called “the bad-men” so Will may use fireball on “the bad-guys”(government agents) . Fire has been used on all the other adversaries relating to the upsidedown-so why not the gov agents (aka human villains) next? 2 movies on the inspo list caught my attention: firestarter & carrie (which are both stephen king adaptions with psychic kids who have fire abilities).

Firestarter- she has pyrokineseis (firepowers) . And unlike every other psychic in the film- she is the only psychic that doesn't get nose bleeds (aka mini brain hemorages) from using her powers (Will). We know el and kali gets nose bleeds.

(Anger): She only unleashes her fire abilities on gov agents after they kill her parent...

*And uses a literal “fireball” on them.

Could also be another willel parallel. kali about the US gov:" They took your mother away from you!" El str*ngles man from gov agency that incapacitated her mom . El before str*ngling him: " you hurt mama".

(self defense): While in carrie she kills people who tried to run her over with a car. And causes the car to explode.

Also, in s3 Steve does technically cause a car to explode to protect Nancy from being run over by a car (so maybe foreshadowing?). I believe, tumblr user ‘bran-who-writes-theoretically” was the first to point out the Carrie/car on fire parallel.

* This car scene could also be added to the list of Willel parallels. El in s1 uses her powers to flip a government-car upside down. And looks back at it. And it’s a ref to the film Et. So Will causing a government -car to explode and flip upsidedown (referencing carrie) could be a parallel.

Of course El flipped over a car in s3 to attack the Soviet agents and protect her friends too ( right before losing her powers). Sort of like Steve using his car as a weapon in s3 to protect his friends. so who knows, if not Will, maybe El (wearing a ponytail) got her telekenesis back and she flips the car and it explodes ? To be honest, I just find this explanation too boring, cliche, and predictable. And I still hypothosize the mindflayer took her telekensis (but not her other powers). Since in d&d mindflayers have ‘mage hand’ (what el is called) and ‘telekenesis’/ along with the ability to steal powers from other life forms. But, we’ll see...

Theory 3) The car flips (maybe caused by a deer jumping in the road) and it blows up after the crash- with Joyce inside. And maybe Jonathan survives it/ Will wasn’t there but had a nightmare /vision about it?

Evidence: in s1 Jonathan sees a dead deer that was hit by a car. This could be symbolic : because it related to Jonathan mentioning the hunting story with his dad and how he cried for a week cause he liked the film Bambi. Which in the film : Bambi (a deer) has his mother k*lled. And after his mother’s death, he’s taken in by his douchey dad who was M.I.A for most of his life ,until his mom passed away. And the hunters are the bad guys in the film . In ‘get out’ the photographer , Chris,blames himself for his mother dying in a car accident - and he sees a dead deer hit by a car -and the dying deer was used to symbolize the guilt he has over his mother’s death. in ‘the long kiss goodnight’ a character is driving home with a friend- they swerve and hit a deer and 1 of them is ejected from the car into the forrest. But their friend is unconscious in the car and it quickly explodes on the road. The survivor turns and sees the car in flames- disoriented they stumble and kill the dying deer. And it’s left ambiguous if they were helping the deer end it’s pain or if it was vengeful-hunting (since it caused the car accident that killed their friend). Cause their face was emotionless from shock.

Even in the st novel "suspicious minds' rabbits- like jonathan was forced to kill on the hunting trip with his dad (around his b-day) represented the bond between mother and child.And the mother sacrificing herself for the baby-to not get k*lled (by Brenner).

-so maybe?? jonathan before he gets the pizza job/car (may have his car break down , like hinted it would in s3).

So him and Joyce share the car (once his car stops working) and the accident happens while Jonathan is behind the wheel -with Joyce. And after this he gets the job at surfer boy pizza. Billy was a surfer boy and that memory was used to think about his mother who is no longer around (once he's stuck with his ab*sive dad after moving away from Cali). While Jonathan moved to Cali after his mom passed-maybe stuck with Lonnie.Jonathan's actor in recent pics has a blonde mullet - which sort of resembles joyce/Billy's og hair. This may be why he starts doing dr*gs - which is pretty out of character for him- but it could be a coping mechanism(like in the s4 films). One of many examples was 'enter the void'- the older brother was surrogate parent to their lil sibling and after a car accident k*lls his parents , he starts doing dr*gs to cope. Also ‘hunger games’ was on the list- and Katniss (who was a surrogate parent to her litle sibling, like Jonathan is to Will) in the sequel, saw her family die in an explosion. And it really broke her emotionally.

I've mentioned this before but Billy is used to parallel and foil Will and Jonathan. And it may be more than a ... what if Lonnie had custody scenario. But to show how Lonnie (like most ab*sers) will later bring out the worst in the kids (once he does have custody). Like how s3 has Will mimick lonnie with the baseball bat (and we see in s3 Billy being bullied by his dad to play baseball and flashbacks showing him mimicking Neil). I've also discussed how there's a theme with pretty much every character mimicking their parent- for better or worse.

Killing a deer would certainly hint at Jonathan's possible character regression (and mimicking Lonnie to a certain extent). if he not only blames himself for Joyce's death. But is also stuck with his ab*ser.

The animal k*lling motif , and after that, mimicking an a b*sive father is already shown with el. Brenner , in s1,tried to make her k*ll a cat (using her powers) and she refused (similar to the s1 rabbit hunting story of Lonnie forcing Jonathan to k*ll a rabbit ). But in s2, she uses her powers to k*ll a squirrel (and like a deer- it's typical hunting game). Than in s3 el does literally everything Brenner ever asked of her- she spies on people and repeats the words back (like brenner told her to do), she becomes a weapon to ‘fight the commies’ (which was said to be the reason he k*dnapped her in the first place), and when looking into the void to see the mf (she mirrors the words brenner told her - when he made her go into the void to face the demogorgan).

And some s4 movies are literally about being trapped in a house with your ab*ser and slowly losing your mind because of the ab*se and gaslighting- lighthouse , black swan , good son, are prime examples. But movies like scar face , girl with the dragon tattoo, and book of Henry touch on this theme a bit as well. And ordinary people- is about a guy who survived a vehicular accident but his relative in the same accident didn't- and it causes him alot of issues /survivor's guilt.

The shadowy figure could just be Will in the shot - seeing it in a dream before or after it happens?

Theory 4) Will sees a future vision or has his ’now memories’ of someone else's car.

Evidence: i guess the s4 shot parallels El (in s3) spying on Billy while he’s hurting Heather. During that spying scene: the shot is of El near Billy's car. So it’s possibly a diff willel parallel?

If not Will. Who knows ...if El’s telekenesis is gone maybe her spying abilities strengthened and look different because of it (and now she can see background details)?

Theory 5) it's Lonnie's car and Will escapes from the trunk and uses his powers in self defense

Evidence: I’m pretty iffy on this one. This goes back to how people suspected Lonnie took Will in s1 (and could be foreshadowing). Even the recent rebel robin book-has characters say Lonnie probably took Will. Jonathan suspected Will may be at Lonnie’s - so checks Lonnie’s car trunk (to see if Will is there). We also see how the mf in s3, knocked people out by dr*gs/str*ngulation, ties them up, and throws them in a trunk (to k*dnap them). Or how the cops raided jonathan’s trunk- which had stuff to track the demogorgan (and the demogorgan parallels Lonnie) . And after looking in Jonathan’s trunk-they suspected something fishy is going on.

*heather was described as “another me” by Will- who was thrown in the trunk.

movies: “tangled” was on the s4 list- and had an ab*sive parent later try and kidnap their kid ,and that parent ends up dying. in girl with the dragon tattoo (the girl associated with dragons & phoenixes- lights her ab*sive bio dad on fire. In ‘drop dead fred’ (girl who is in love with childhood friend, named Mikey, who she met at age 5) lights a imaginary version of her ab*sive parent on fire - while in a trippy memory world. Chrissy accidentally lights her ab*sive relative (nickname “daddy”) on fire in self defense- in a trippy hell memory scape. in ‘long kiss goodnight- the girl with 2 personalities (Will/will the wise) was kidnapped and put in a trunk and escapes by jumping into a quarry. Not sure if that could relate to a flashback or something else? like in ‘don’t breath’ the older sibling who essentially was a surrogate parent to the younger sibling-mentions how their dad left the family, and her parent would throw her in the trunk for hours as a punishment.

#will byers #jonathan byers #joyce byers #el hopper #stranger things #stranger things theory

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chiliiscereal · 4 years ago

Text

I hate you

Daryl’s adopted daughter

Chapter 1

Summary: Diana is a girl on the run in the apocalypse. Her past chases her no matter where she goes. One day, by chance, she meets Daryl Dixon. Thinking she’s a walker, he shoots her and brings her back to their camp. Shane strikes a deal with her: she has to stay for two weeks before she can decide if she wants to stay. But Diana is determined to keep her past in the past, and never make the same mistake again

Season 1 - I’m not sure yet

—————

Diana sat in a circle with her family. Blood dripped down her neck from her lips.

Everything was red.

Red

How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly?

Her eyes never left the blond man she once knew. She watched him as her fury and fear grew louder and louder, echoing off her skull.

That was, until Negan stepped out of the van. He walked about the circle, until his eyes landed on her.

"Fancy seein' you again, Darlin'."

————————

Rick stumbled into the street, a hospital gown draping his skin. He knew there was something wrong. There was something off. Maybe it was intuition...

Or maybe it was the woman, chopped in half, chomping her teeth to get at his ankles.

He rubbed his eyes, the sun glaring right into his vision. It had been a week and a half since the start, and a day since his IV ran dry. It had been even longer since he last saw the sun.

Where was everyone?

Why hadn't he waken up to nurses and doctors?

Or his family's familiar faces?

He spotted bodies. Bodies walking. Maybe three.

He couldn't understand... he couldn't understand any of it...

The light off a gun reflected into his eyes. He blocked it and moved to see where it was coming from.

The revolver was placed in the holster on the side of a walker. The man... or whatever he was now... shuffled toward Rick.

He was deathly pale.

"Sir," Rick's voice cracked, "sir, are you okay?" He held his hand out, trying to make it a comforting gesture to someone possibly in need.

Edging closer, the man stared at him with hungry dead eyes. His clothes were torn and draped off his skinny frame, his eyes laid sunken in his face.

"Sir?" He asked again, stumbling back.

The man growled and advanced further.

"Are you-?"

With a blur, the man was down.

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Rick let out a horrified gasp.

On the ground was a little girl, around Carl's age, placing her knife in the mans forehead. Her light blond hair, tucked under her baseball cap, clung to her dirty face. The crunch echoed in Ricks head, reverberating off his skull.

That was the first walker he had ever seen killed.

She quickly wiped her knife on the walkers shirt and snatched his revolver. She opened the back to check how much ammo was left. Satisfied, she clicked it shut and began patting the double dead man down.

"W-why did you do that?" Rick found his voice again.

She leaped back, her bright blue eyes finding his.

Quickly, she pulled herself up and began to dash away. If Rick hadn't lunged out and caught the back of her shirt she would have disappeared as soon as she apparated into his line of sight.

"No. You can't leave yet." He spun her around to face him. It was evident how terrified she was. Especially with her eyes as wide as dinner plates and hands clawing at his arm. "Why did you kill that man?"

She glared at him and wriggled harder. "Man?" She gasped, "that... that wasn't a man!" Her hands fought to unclamp Ricks grip. "That's a Walker! He would have eaten you if I hadn't stopped him!" She grunted with effort. "Didn't even see you. You already look dead."

"What do you mean by dead?" Rick questioned, holding tighter.

"Gone. Deceased. vamosed. Perished." With each word she struggled. "Now let me go!"

Rick was about to question again, when he felt the stitches on his side rip. With a grunt, he let her go and fell to the ground. His hand cupped his side.

"Please.." he stopped to breathe heavily as the girl watched him warily. "I don't know what's happening. I woke up in the- in the hospital." He glanced down at his side to eye the bleeding. "The sun will be setting soon... and I need help."

The girl glanced at the lowering sun. Tapping her foot, she glowered at the ground. "How can I trust you." It wasn't a question. It was as if she was challenging him to be wrong.

Rick attempted to stand, only to find himself back in the ground. "I was a cop. My job was to protect the people. ALL people. And I like to think I did a good job of that."

She stuck the revolver in her holster (which was clearly stolen based on how big it was). "Prove it."

"I don't have my badge or my hat. That's at my house. But I'm officer Rick Grimes. I've been on the force for seven years. My partner was Shane Walsh. I was in my car when we got a call about a run away car. I was shot in action and hospitalized." His eyes seemed to beg her to help him.

Diana tried to fight the raging war in her head.

She knew better.

She knew to trust no one.

Her father and mother both betrayed her trust.

Why trust again?

But... she could tell when people were lying. All people have tells. Her fathers tell was him avoiding eye contact. He always looked at the ground. For her mother, she always played with her wedding ring.

But this Cop... sheriff... man... was not lying.

He looked her dead in the eye.

"Fine. Come with me." She hadn't known that she was gripping her new revolver until she released it. "I have a place in the sewers. I know... in most movies that's where walkers would be. But how would someone get down there in the first place? You'd have to move the lid." She walked over to Rick and slung his arm over her shoulder to help him stand in any way. "And most walkers," she grunted "are pretty stupid."

"Thank you...for helping me." Rick stated gratefully.

"I have some house rules, you know."

"Name them." He said confidently as they shuffled down the street.

"One: you're gone when you can walk."

"You don't want someone to watch your back?" Rick was surprised. Usually, kids jumped at the chance for safety. The ones he has worked with in cases of violence had immediately decided he was trustworthy.

"the worlds changed. You can't trust people." He noted the grim expression on her face. He wanted to ask why, but he figured it was better to stay silent.

"I'd argue about that, but I'll hear out your other rules." He wrapped his arm around his side again, fingering the broken stitches.

"Two: you do as I say or you die."

"Yes ma'am."

Rick couldn't help but like her spunk. She was serious, but it wasn't much of a threat coming from an eleven year old girl.

"3: ..." she started only to trail off.

"...3?"

She cleared her throat and resituated Ricks arm. "You repay my kindness if we ever cross paths again. I don't care how."

"Was already planning on it." He grinned. He could feel the conversation beginning to die, so he started it back up again. "What's your name, kid?"

She hesitated, eyes staying on the road. "Diana." She spoke softly. "My mother named me after the Roman goddess of the night."

Rick smiled. "Pretty name."

Diana's thoughts drifted to her mother. Her mother with her honey brown hair and warm chocolate eyes. She stopped her thoughts there. "Well... what about you, officer friendly? You got a name?"

Rick laughed. "My names Rick Grimes. I ain't named after the moon goddess, but I think it has a nice ring to it. Don't you?"

She forced down a smile. "Pretty name."

He chuckled. "Well, Diana, I am glad I ran into you."

~~~~~

They arrived at the sewer lid.

"Here we are. I've been camped out here since early yesterday morning." She slipped under Ricks arm and got down to lift the lid. With a couple tries, and an offer from Rick for assistance, she lifted the lid.

She stood up and dusted off her hands. "I'll go down first and scope out the area. Need to make sure it's still clear. Then I'll help you down."

She began her descent.

Rick watched the top of her light haired head fade into the darkness with each step. He briefly thought she would try and make a run for it. Escape through the sewers.

He immediately dismissed it. Why would she waste daylight by helping him? The sound of her footsteps hitting the water at the bottom and echoing as she walked down the tunnels set him on edge.

Especially when they began to fade.

He sat patiently for over ten minutes, watching the sunlight tick by. He looked down into the darkness, listening for any sound. There was nothing... not even a whisper.

Maybe she did leave.

"Alright, Sheriff, get down here! It's clear!" Her voice reverberated loudly from the tunnels so suddenly, that Rick stumbled back.

"I don't have all day! Unless you wanted to be walker chow, get down here!"

Rick chuckled as he began to shuffle his way down the tunnel.

"Any day now, Deputy Fossil!" She shouted.

"Hold your horses, kid." He slowly lowered himself into the dark. He looked down to see where his feet were going to land, spotting the flashlight that Diana held. Her light hazel eyes reflected impatience.

"Nice place." He said, clearly biting back his truth.

"Don't be fake." She said as she kicked at the water. "It smells like a pig ate dirty gym socks, farted, and died."

"I was trying to spare your feelings."

"Don't bother. I'm leaving this place as soon as you're ready."

Rick finally landed on the bottom of the sewer. "You got a place you're headed to?"

Diana shook her head. "No. Just a place I never want to see again."

Rick stopped moving to look at her. "Troubled home life?"

She thought about it and shrugged. "I guess you could call it troubled home life. It was home once. But this apocalypse changes people."

"I'm sorry kid."

"Don't be. That's just life."

Rick opened his mouth to say more, but Diana beat him to it.

"Alright, lets move." She motioned for him to follow.

The place she had holed up in was dryer than most spaces. There were a couple of dirty blankets placed on the ground and a first aid kit. Some batteries were sprinkled on top.

"You can sit there. I can stitch you back up." Diana pointed at the wall. Their part of the sewer was a dead end so they wouldn't be surprised.

"Thank you."

Diana hadn't stitched wounds before, but she did well enough.

Rick tried starting a conversation again but she told him she needed silence to focus.

~~~~

"Are you sure you want to travel by yourself?"

Diana nodded as she packed her things. "Very sure. You're nice and all, but you don't want to travel with me."

The Georgia sun had risen already and they both were preparing for departure in the street

"Do you have any family to find?" Rick questioned.

"I already know where they are. And they don't want me either." The girl looked down, avoiding eye contact.

"If we ever meet again, you better give me more details." Rick narrowed his eyes and pointed at her. "I deserve to know more about the little girl who saved me."

"Once a cop always a cop I guess." Diana said slyly. She looked back at him. "What about you? Any family?"

She eyed a walker down the street but decided it was too far away to pursue.

"I got a son and a wife. My son's your age actually. 11." Rick looked through the neighborhoods. "I don't know where they are, but I'll protect them. They need me."

Diana squinted in the direction he was looking at, seeing nothing. "You'll find them, chief." She patted his shoulder, having to reach up very high.

"It was nice to meet you, Diana." Rick said, a little sad that they were parting. Possibly that he would no longer have company. Maybe that he didn't have enough time to get to know her well. "I don't know if I'll see you again, but you helped me without anything to gain."

Diana scoffed. "I'm not a good kid."

"You're right."

Diana looked up, confused.

"You're one of the best."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Go. You have people to find."

"From the looks of thangs, so do you."

"I don't have people."

"You'll find them. Just a matter of where and when." He stuck his hand out for her to shake.

She placed a brown bag in his hand instead. "It's for the road. There's batteries, water, a flashlight, food, bandages, antibiotics, and one more thing..." she unbuckled her holster and handed it to him, along with the revolver. "You need these more than I do."

Rick tried to push it back to the little girl. "No I can't take this. You need it."

"No, you do. You're gonna help people, Rick. You're gonna help so many. You gotta find your people." She pushed it back to him. "I'm gonna be fine. I spotted a gun down the road that I'm gonna check out later."

Rick gave her a solemn look before accepting it. "If you can, head to Atlanta. The CDC is near there and there's bound to be survivors."

"I don't need survivors."she rolled her eyes.

"They may need you, kid. Ever think about that?"

She stayed silent for a moment. "Stay safe, sherif fun sponge." She shook his hand, even though he hadn't offered it yet. "I hope we meet again."

"We will." He smiled. "I don't know how or when, but we will. I have a debt to pay."

She wanted to return the smile but couldn't. "I hope you find them."

"You to."

With that, they went separate ways.

Next fifty chapters posted on noandisaidno on wattpad!

#for you #bookish #disney #digital art #small artist #tik tok #tik tok art #wattpad #fanfic #percy jackson #twd imagine #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd negan #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x daughter!reader

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selfignitingimagines · 3 years ago

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Stiles- If I Can’t Have You, No One Can (Obsessed Part 4)

A/N: When I was initally writing this series I had a set plan for where I wanted it to end and how. I was recently rewatching the last few episodes of season 2 and I got struck with some inspiration. Let me know down below if you guys want a part 5 so I can continue the series!

TRIGGER WARNING: Stalking, kidnapping

Here are the links for Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

“Right there!” Stiles cried, frantically gesturing toward the computer screen on his dad’s desk. “Stop! Stop! See? There he is again.”

They were scrolling through hours of security footage recorded at the hospital the night one of Matt’s victims was killed. So far, all they had managed to capture were shots of him with his back turned. This tape was no different.

“You mean there’s the back of his head again,” the Sheriff told him.

“Okay, but look. He’s talking to someone!”

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze. His eyes widened. “He’s talking to my mom.”

He hastily pulled out his phone out of his jeans and called his mom, hoping she would be able to confirm that it was Matt. Stiles tapped his foot nervously as they talked. His shoulders slumped in relief when he heard her say that Matt was the one she had seen.

“Alright,” the Sheriff said when she hung up. He picked up a manila evidence folder from his desk.

“We’ve got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site...”

“And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders,” Stiles said. “The trailer, the hospital, and the rave.”

“Actually four,” the Sheriff told him, flipping through the documents in the folder. “A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt a few hours before the murder.”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. “Alright, Dad, if one’s an incident, two’s a coincidence, and three’s a pattern, what’s four?”

“Four’s enough for a warrant.”

Stiles curled his fist in triumph. “We can find Y/n.”

“Scott, call your mom back. See how quickly she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott’s mom in when she gets here.”

“On it.” Stiles nodded hastily and turned down the hall.

His whole body was humming with adrenaline now. He had spent the whole night terrified, wondering what Matt was doing to you. Stiles knew you were probably betting on the fact that they would find you. After all, it was what he would have done in your situation.

You have saved each other plenty of times before, and now it was his turn again. He knew he could do it, he just wasn’t sure what Matt would do to you in the meantime.

Stiles had tried his best to protect you, but he knew it hadn’t been enough. He should have pushed harder when he suggested you go to the police the other night. He should have kept a closer eye on you at the party, but he had been too caught up in his own issues.

He tried to shake off those thoughts as he walked down the halls of the station, telling himself that he still had time to make up for it. He had told you the other night that everything he did was to keep you safe, and that was still true.

As he rounded the corner of the hall, Stiles realized that the officer on duty was no longer standing at the front desk.

“Hello?” he called, looking around for her.

That was when he noticed her black combat boot sticking out from behind the corner of the desk. He felt a shiver run down his spine, and he realized she was lying on the floor among a mess of fallen papers. Her eyes were wide open, but they weren’t moving, and her tan uniform was stained dark red with blood.

She was dead, but as Stiles took in the horrific sight, he also noticed another chilling detail. The holster on her hip was empty. Someone had taken her gun.

Stiles stumbled back, turning around, only to come face to face with you.“Y/n?”

Tears were slipping from your eyes, and your lip was trembling. You looked terrified, standing there in your disheveled dress. It was the same one you had been wearing at the party last night.

Matt was standing behind you, one hand one your shoulder as he pressed the dead officer’s gun into your back.

“If you make one move I’ll shoot her,” he told Stiles.

Stiles reluctantly held up his hands. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed, but he shook his head. You had to know this wasn’t your fault.

Matt kept the barrel of the gun pressed against your back as Stiles led you further into the station. He turned into his dad’s office, and you realized that the Sheriff and your brother were also there.

“Y/n!” Scott cried.

He started forward, but Matt ordered him to stop, waving the gun so he and the others could see it.

“Matt,” the Sheriff said slowly. He held up his hands.

“It’s Matt, right? Matt, whatever’s going on, I guarantee there’s a solution that doesn’t involve a gun.”

Matt’s lips curled into a sick grin. “You know it’s funny you say that, because I don’t think you’re aware of just how right you are.”

“I know you don’t wanna hurt people-”

“Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people. You four weren’t on my list, but I could be persuaded...and one way is to try calling somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing.”

Scott ripped his hand out of his pocket, looking between you and Stiles apologetically.

“That...that could definitely get someone hurt.”

“Everyone?” Matt gestured with the gun, and you knew he was telling them to give up their phones. “Now!”

“Come on,” the Sheriff told the boys calmly.

Stiles looked back at you.

“Pretty sure he tossed mine out the window last night,” you muttered.

Matt led the four of you to the tiny jail at the back of the station. There, he made Stiles handcuff his dad to a bench. You felt your stomach drop. Now the three of you were completely on your own with Matt.

He waved the three of you in front of him and forced you to walk up to the front of the station. As you passed by another hallway, you gasped.

Three other officers were lying in the hallway and all of them appeared to be dead. Their chests had been ripped open so forcefully that every wall around them was splattered with blood.

You looked away, fighting the urge to vomit.

“What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?” Scott demanded.

“No,” Matt said with a scoff. “That’s what Jackson’s for. I just think about killing them...and he does it.”

He forced you back into Stilinski’s office, where he made Stiles log into his dad’s computer. Matt had him delete every bit of evidence, including the video footage of him at the hospital. Scott was destroying the paper evidence in the shredder, including the shoe prints that would have matched Matt’s boots.

Stiles glared at Matt from behind the desk, wanting to rip him apart as he stroked his fingers down your hair. He had forced you to sit next to him on the couch, and you were currently staring intently at the tiled floor.

Stiles had already seen the bruises Matt had left on your throat. The only thing keeping him from jumping across that desk was the knowledge that Matt would have Jackson rip all of you to pieces at a moment’s notice.

“Deleted,” he told Matt bitterly, gesturing toward the computer. “And we’re done. So, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it, because they killed you first-whatever that means-we’re good here, right? I’ll just get my dad and we’ll go. You know, you continue on the whole vengeance thing, enjoy the Kanima.”

Before he could respond, the glow of headlights swept through the windows. You could hear tires crunching on the gravel of the parking lot outside.

“Sounds like your mom’s here,” Matt told you and Scott.

“Matt, don’t do this,” you begged.

“When she comes to the door, we’ll just tell her to leave,” Scott added. “I’ll tell her we didn’t find anything! Please, Matt.”

The sound of the metal door creaking open echoed through the station, and Matt grinned. “If you don’t move now, I’m gonna kill Y/n first, and then your mom.”

He pressed the gun up against your back, and Scott glared at him. Matt pulled you up by the back of your dress and gestured for Scott and Stiles to go first.

“Open it,” he ordered Scott, when you had made your way back to the front lobby.

“Please,” Scott begged one more time.

“Open. The. Door,” Matt told him, enunciating each word carefully.

Scott reached out, shaking his head regretfully. When he turned the knob, the door slowly creaked open to reveal the person standing there. It wasn’t your mom, but Derek Hale.

“Oh thank god,” Scott breathed.

But Derek simply stared at him. Then, he pitched forward and slammed straight onto the floor below. Jackson was standing behind him, half transformed. He held up one scaly hand, still dripping with clear venom, and stalked into the lobby.

Matt walked over and knelt in front of Derek, flipping him on his back. He was now completely paralyzed.

“This is the one controlling him?” Derek asked from the floor. “This kid?”

“Well, Derek, not everyone’s lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf.”

Matt straightened up, glancing between you, Scott, and Stiles. “That’s right! I’ve learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas...it’s like a freakin’ halloween party every full moon.”

He smirked. “Except for you Stiles. What do you turn into?”

Stiles glared at him.

“Abominable snowman,” he snarked. “But it’s more of, like, a wintertime thing. You know...seasonal.”

Matt rolled his eyes, and in seconds, Jackson was swiping his claws across the back of Stiles neck.

“Hey!” you cried.

“Bitch,” Stiles swore at Matt, before his knees went out from under him. He crashed onto the ground, right on top of Derek’s chest.

“Get him off of me,” Derek growled.

Matt laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must suck though, having all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you’re not used to feeling this helpless.”

Derek glared up at him from the floor. “Still got some teeth. Scoot down here a little closer, huh? We’ll see how helpless I am.”

“Yeah, bitch.”

Stiles’ voice was muffled from being facedown against Derek’s chest, but you couldn’t help but smile.

For the second time that night, headlights flashed through the windows of the sheriff’s station. You could hear another car pulling to a stop outside.

“Is that your mom?” Matt asked. “Do what I tell you to, and I won’t hurt her. I won’t even let Jackson near her.

“Scott, don’t trust him,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shirt.

Scott remained frozen in front of the door, but Matt was impatient. He reached forward, snatching you by your hair and tugging you back against him. He wrapped his arm around your neck, squeezing against your windpipe and cutting off your breath.

“This work better for you?” he asked Scott.

You reached up, scratching at his arms, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Okay, stop, just stop,” your brother begged.

“Then do what I tell you to!” Matt spat.

“Okay, alright, stop!”

Matt finally let you go, right as you were on the verge of blacking out. You hit the floor on your hands and knees, gasping and dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

“You,” Matt said, gesturing to Jackson. “Take them in there. You two, with me.”

He yanked you up off the ground by your arm, and gestured for Scott to open the door as Jackson hauled Derek and Stiles out of the lobby.

When the door finally opened, Matt pulled you behind the corner of the hallway. You could hear the door squeaking open, and your mom asking “Scott?”

You were trembling as Matt held you back against his chest. What would he do to your mom?”

“You scared me,” you heard her say. “Where is everyone?”

That was when Matt shoved you out in front of him. Your mom gasped your name. As far as she had known, you were still missing.

When she saw Matt come out behind you and press the gun against your back, she froze.

“Mom,” Scott told her nervously. “Just do what he says. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“He’s right,” Matt agreed.

Then, he raised the gun, and shot Scott in the stomach. You and your mom both screamed, but as she rushed forward, Matt pointed the gun at you.

“But I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt him.”

Scott was holding himself up using the wall, just barely managing to not fall to his knees. He had one hand pressed against his side, and blood was beginning to pool through his shirt. You knew he would heal from the gunshot wound, but your mom didn’t.

She tried to step forward, but Matt waved the gun.

“Back! Back!” he ordered.

“Mom,” Scott choked. “Mom, do it. Please mom.”

You could hear Stiles' dad from all the way at the back of the station. He had undoubtedly heard the gunshot.

“Matt! Matt, listen to me-!”

“Shut up!” Matt roared. “Shut up! Everybody shut the hell up!”

He gestured to Scott before training the gun back on you. “Get up, or I shoot your sister next.”

“Please,” your mom begged. Tears were running down her cheeks. “He needs to see a doctor.”

Matt tilted his head. “You think so?”

“It’s alright,” Scott insisted. “I’m okay.”

“No, sweetie, you’re not,” your mom insisted.

She began to babble about how he was just feeling the adrenaline, how he needed to get to the hospital. You looked over at your brother, and he met your eyes. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his secret after this, provided you all made it out alive.

“They have no idea, do they?” Matt asked you.

You didn’t answer him. Your mom was still trying to convince Matt to let her take Scott to the hospital.

“Lady, if you keep talking, I’m going to put the next bullet in her head.”

He raised the gun to your skull. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the barrel of the gun against your skin.

Your mom took a deep breath, and held up her hands. Tears were streaming down her face, leaving wet lines of black mascara. “Okay...okay.”

Matt shoved you in front of him, pushing you down the hall. He paraded you back through the station, and locked your mom into the cell next to the bench Stilinski was cuffed to.

When Matt shut the cell door, your mom reached out through the bars, grasping your hand tightly. “You’re okay?”

You nodded, tears slipping from your own eyes. “I’m okay. Stiles and Scott made sure I was safe.”

“Back to the front McCall!” Matt barked. “Both of you!”

You glanced back at your mom reluctantly as Matt shoved you in front of him. He walked behind you and your brother as you headed out into the hallway. Then, he herded you into the station breakroom.

There were a few tables and some chairs, but even though you were exhausted, you were too afraid to sit down. Scott leaned against one of the tables, still grasping his bloody side. You guessed the wound wasn’t fully healed yet. If the bullet hadn’t exited, it wouldn’t be able to close unless someone pulled it out.

“The evidence is gone,” Scott told him. “Why don’t you just go?” Matt raised his eyebrows. “You really think the evidence mattered that much? No. No, I want the book.”

“What book?” Scott asked him,

“The bestiary!” Matt snarled. “And not just a few pages. I want the entire thing.”

“I don’t have it. It’s Gerard’s. You told him that, didn’t you?” He was looking at you now. You shrugged. “I tried.”

Scott glanced back over at Matt. “What do you need it for, anyway?”

“I need answers.”

“Answers to what?”

Frustrated, Matt yanked up the edge of his shirt, revealing his scale-covered side. “To this!”

Scott’s eyes went wide. If Matt was turning into another kanima, there was nothing stopping him from killing whoever he wanted. When you looked at your brother’s face, you had the sneaking suspicion that you two would be next on his list.

------

Stiles laid on the floor of the station, staring up at the ceiling. The tiled floor was cold against his back, which was a welcome relief considering sweat was dripping down his neck. He wasn’t sure whether it was just hot in the station, or if he was nervous. If he was being honest, it was both.

He and Derek had been lying there for what felt like hours, but Stiles knew it was probably only thirty minutes.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. “Do you know what’s happening to Matt?”

“I know the book’s not gonna help him,” Derek said grimly. “You can’t just break the rules. Not like this.”

Stiles tried to look over at him from the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean?”

“The universe balances things out. It always does.”

“Is it because he’s using Jackson to kill people who don’t deserve it?”

“And killing people himself,” Derek added.

Stiles thought for a moment. “So if he breaks the rules of the Kanima, he becomes the Kanima?”

“Balance,” Derek agreed.

“Will he believe us if we tell him that?”

“Probably not.”

Stiles sighed. “Okay, he’s gonna kill all of us once he gets that book, isn’t he?”

“Yep...except for maybe Scott’s sister.”

Stiles gritted his teeth. “I’m gonna kick his ass the second I can move again.”

“That’s a great way to get her throat ripped out too.”

Stiles didn’t respond. He knew Derek was right, but a part of him wanted to go after Matt without thinking about the consequences. He knew he had left those bruises on your neck. He knew that the minute you shattered Matt’s fantasy, he would kill you too. He had to do something before that happened.

“I know you’re in love with her.”

Stiles swallowed at Derek’s words. “Maybe.”

“I can tell. I know you’d do anything to save her, but right now, we need to be smarter.”

“Alright,” Stiles relented. “So what do we do? Do we just sit here and wait to die?”

“Unless I can figure out a way to push the toxin out of my body faster, like triggering the healing process.”

“Wha-”

He glanced down, only to realize that Derek’s claws were now protruding from his fingers. They had grown into his jeans, right into his skin, where blood was beginning to ooze.

Stiles gagged. “Oh, gross.”

-----

Back in the breakroom of the station, Matt shook his head, letting his shirt fall back down. He glanced between you and Scott.

“You know, I feel sorry for you guys. Cause right now you’re probably thinking ‘How am I gonna explain this when it heals?’. And the sad part is, you don’t even realize how incredible it is that you are healing. Cause you know what happens to anyone else when they get shot? They die!”

You and Scott exchanged uneasy glances.

“Is that what happened to you?” your brother asked.

Matt was silent. He was staring at the ground, but he didn’t look as vicious as he had earlier. He actually seemed kind of tired. Scott seemed to notice this too, so he continued to press.

“You drowned, didn’t you?”

“He shouldn’t have let them drink,” Matt muttered, still staring at the floor.

“What?” you asked. “Who? Matt, what do you mean?”

“Lahey!” He suddenly exploded. “He shouldn’t have let them drink.”

You flinched back, closer to your brother.

“What?” Scott asked. “Who was drinking?”

“The swim team, you idiot! I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know they had just won State…”

You and Scott listened to Matt as he went on and on. He explained how, when he was in eighth grade, he had been heading over to Isaac’s to trade comics. Mr. Lahey was throwing a party for his swim team and letting them drink around the pool. All of Matt’s victims had been there. Tucker, Cara, Bennett, even Jessica and Shawn, the married couple.

They were joking around when Matt came into the backyard, tossing each other into the pool. Isaac’s brother Camden decided to throw Matt in too. They didn’t know he couldn’t swim.

“And the next thing I know, I’m lying by the pool,” Matt explained. “And Lahey’s standing over me, and he’s saying ‘You don’t know how to swim? What little bastard doesn’t know how to swim? You say nothing. You tell no one.’ And I didn’t.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I would wake up every night, gasping for breath. My parents thought I was an asthamatic. They even got me and inhaler. They didn’t know that everytime I closed my eyes, I…I was drowning.”

He was silent for a few moments, and then he looked back at you and Scott. “And then came Kate Argent’s funeral.”

His lips began to curl into a smile as he explained how he had realized he and Jackson were bonded.

“I was taking some photos, and then, purely by accident, Lahey gets in one of them. I looked down at my camera, and I just had this unbelievable rage that filled up inside of me. I looked at him and I just...I wanted to see him dead.”

Matt let out a disbelieving laugh. “And the next day, he actually was! You know, Einstein was right. Imagination is more important than knowledge. It was like something out of Greek mythology, like...like the Furies coming down to punish Orestes.”

He looked over at Scott, who was staring at him, dumbfounded. Matt rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”

Scott swallowed. “Was that...was that the guy that stabbed out his eyes.”

“That’s Oedipus, you dumbass!” Matt barked.

His gaze snapped over at you. “You know what I’m talking about don’t you?”

You nodded carefully. “The furies were deities of vengeance, weren’t they?”

Matt nodded. “Their tears ran of blood and they had snakes for hair. If there was a crime that had gone unpunished, the Furies would do the punishing. Jackson is my Fury. You know, when I saw him the next night, I knew he had killed Lahey for me, and I knew he would do it again.”

Matt began to smile to himself again. “So I went to Tucker’s garage. I even paid for an oil change, and guess what? He didn’t even recognize me! So when he wasn’t looking, I took a shot of him with my camera...and in a few hours, he was dead. So I took more pictures. All I had to do was take their picture, and Jackson would take their life.”

You glanced over at Scott, who looked just as concerned as you were. Matt was giving no indication that he would stop the killings. You were pretty sure that he and Stiles were next on his list.

Scott opened his mouth, maybe to try and convince Matt to let you all go, but he never got the chance to speak. The thick, acrid smell of smoke filled the air, and suddenly the room was engulfed in a white cloud.

Sirens began to wail, echoing through the halls of the station. They let out a sharp, bleating sound that hurt your ears.

“What is this?!” Matt demanded. “What’s happening? What’s going on?!”

He suddenly reached out, snatching you by the arm.

“I don’t know!” Scott cried. “Y/n, where are you?”

“I’m right here!”

He reached out, trying to see if he could grab you, but Matt yanked you backward against him. He pressed his gun against your side and forced you out the nearest exit.

Bright yellow emergency lights began to flicker, illuminating the breakroom. Jackson passed you and Matt as you left the room. He was headed right toward Scott. You tried to pull out of his grasp, but he dug his nails into your arm.

“Scott!” you screamed.

“I’ll have Jackson rip your mom apart next,” he snarled.

He dragged you through the halls of the station, keeping the gun pressed tightly against your side. The smoke was starting to dissipate now, and the flashing lights ensured that Matt knew where he was going.

He shoved open a door and hauled you into a darkened garage. The long room was bordered by bay doors on one side. A few desks littered the room, but it was mostly filled with police squad cars or transport vans.

Matt dragged you past tool carts and spare tires, and you struggled not to trip.

“Please, Matt,” you begged. “Just let me go.”

“Shut up!” Matt snapped. He looked around frantically until he spotted a door with a glowing, red exit sign. He pushed you toward it and forced you outside.

Cool air hit your face as you stepped out into the night, but you didn’t have time to appreciate it. He broke into a run, keeping one hand on your arm as he pulled you further from the building. Panic began to build in your chest.

A couple hundred yards ahead, the clearing you and Matt were running through ended with a line of trees. There was a small creek running at the edge of it. Farther downstream, a bridge crossed over the water. Matt began to pull you in the opposite direction.

Suddenly, you stumbled, falling onto your knees in the grass. Matt reached down to haul you up, but when his guard was down, you knocked the gun out of his hand. It landed somewhere in the grass, and he was unable to see where it went in the dark.

You scrambled onto your feet as Matt felt for the gun in the grass, but when he realized you were running, he abandoned it.

“No!”

He tackled you to the ground before you could even make it five feet away, and the impact knocked the wind out of you.

You squirmed, but he quickly pinned you down into the grass.

“Get off me!” you gasped, but his hands were pressing your wrists into the grass.

He smiled down at you, but there was an empty look in his eyes. Your heart began to pound even harder against your chest.

“Do you remember when I said that I’m not the type of guy that’s gonna say something like ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’?”

You writhed under him, but your exhaustion had caught up with you. He was much stronger, and now that he was turning into another kanima, you didn’t have a chance of fighting him off.

Matt didn’t wait for you to respond to him. He just kept talking and grinning down at you with that sick look in his eyes.

“See, that’s not entirely true,” he mused. “Because, Y/n, if I can’t have you. No one can.”

Then his hands were on your neck, squeezing. You fought him, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. He was going to kill you.

You reached up, scratching at his hands and wrists. You could feel his skin peeling away under your nails and the warm, wet blood you were drawing. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Your vision was beginning to cloud. Your attempts to fight him off were growing weaker by the second. All you could think of was Stiles.

The two of you always seemed to be saving each other in one way or another. This time, you had hoped he would be able to rescue you, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. You knew there was no use in hoping for anything else.

Instead, you tried to think about something good. As your mind wandered, you thought of Stiles’ honey brown eyes. You thought of the surprise and delight on his face when you said something funny that he hadn’t expected. You remembered the way he had kissed you the night at the rave, his hands warm on your cheeks.

Everything was beginning to go dark, but you were content. You swore you could hear Stiles’ voice, warm and soothing...and then it was gone.

You opened your eyes, taking one painful, gasping breath. Matt’s weight was no longer on top of you. You rolled over onto your side, desperately sucking in air as you struggled to lift yourself up into a sitting position in the grass.

You looked around, wondering what had happened. That was when you saw Matt being dragged down the hill by Gerard Argent, of all people. You didn’t understand what was happening at first, but then, Gerard threw him down into the bed of the creek.

Gerard waded out until he was knee-deep in the water. Then he grabbed Matt by his t-shirt and thrust his head under water. You watched, horrified, as he drowned him in the creek.

That was when you ran, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to make sure Gerard wouldn’t follow you. He didn’t even look up. Either he would come after you later, or he just didn’t care.

You sprinted past the bridge, only to have a pair of arms reach out and snatch you back. You opened your mouth to scream, but a hand clamped down over your lips, muffling the sound.

You were pushed up against the side of the bridge, the rough stone scraping against your back. When you saw who had grabbed you, your eyes went wide. It was Peter Hale.

It suddenly crossed your mind that maybe you hadn’t escaped Matt in the clearing. Maybe you were dead. Maybe that was why you were face to face with Peter, whose throat Derek had slashed open last month.

He held one finger to his lips as he stared down at you, and while you should have been terrified, you had the odd feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Watch,” he said quietly.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around, forcing you to look back at Matt and Gerard. You could see Matt’s motionless body floating in the water. Gerard was now standing up on the bank of the creek, his clothes still dripping wet. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t seem to matter, because what you saw next told you everything you needed to know.

The Kanima was creeping out from the shadows, wandering toward Gerard on its hands and feet. Instead of running, Gerard lifted one arm and raised his palm. The Kanima moved closer, hesitantly. Then it lifted up one scaly, clawed hand, and touched its palm to Gerard’s.

He was now its master.

“Go,” Peter urged in your ear. “Tell your brother what you saw.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “Why?”

A smile played at the edge of Peter’s lips. “I have a feeling we’re all on the same team now.”

He let go of your shoulders and you slowly backed away from him, keeping your eyes trained on his shadowy form the entire time. When you were a few yards away, you turned your back and took off running toward the station.

Your chest was burning as you raced back toward Scott and the others. When you pushed open the doors of the station, several officers whirled around and trained their guns on you. You guessed Stiles’ dad had called for backup at some point.

As you threw up your hands, you were able to see the Sheriff, your mom, and Stiles all standing in the lobby.

“Y/n!” Stiles cried. “Oh thank god.”

The officers lowered their guns, and Stiles rushed over. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. You froze in his arms, not quite sure how to handle his touch. The feeling of being caged against him made your skin crawl. Though you hated to admit it, it reminded you of Matt.

He pulled away suddenly, realizing you weren’t reciprocating.

“Hey...are-are you okay?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The lights of the station were too bright, and the sound of the deputies’ boots thumping on the floor caused you to flinch. You didn’t even know where to start.

Stiles watched in shock as you suddenly burst into tears. He wanted to reach out and hold you, but by the way you had just reacted, he was afraid to touch you.

“Oh, uh…”

Before he could think of anything to say, your mom rushed over and put a hand on your back. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet, Sweetheart.”

She cast a sympathetic glance in Stiles’ direction and led you down the hall. The Sheriff followed after the two of you, no doubt planning to take your statement. Matt was nowhere to be found, and Stiles was willing to bet you knew what happened to him.

He wanted to follow, but he knew if he did, his dad would just kick him out of the room. You were a witness now, and they would need an official statement from you.

Scott came jogging down the hallway. Stiles realized he must have heard you come back.

By then, the door to the office you had disappeared into was shut.

Scott headed over to Stiles. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. “But I don’t think your sister’s okay.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #@screamxqueenx94 #tw kidnapping #tw stalking

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it-fits-i-ships · 3 years ago

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Combing through every single episode of Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous for Yasammy moments to write meta analysis about part 4 (parts 1, 2, and 3)

Once Yaz is inside the lab we see her frantically looking for the antidote, getting more and more panicked the longer it takes her, we even see her get so frustrated that she starts throwing things and when she sinks to the floor she looks ready to have a full-on breakdown, it’s only when she notices the medical case and has that spark of hope that she gets up to continue her search, this combined with the sheer relief she experiences when she doubtfully opens the case to find that it does in fact hold the antidote really goes to show just how seriously Yaz takes this mission, I think that Yaz would take this kind of mission seriously if it were any other member of the group as well but not to this degree, it’s clear she cares very deeply about Sammy, she collapses in on herself and starts crying a little bit as she clutches that case to her chest, her world has been in danger of completely falling apart and she just found the one thing that can save it Yaz is a real ride-or-die, especially when it comes to Sammy, she is willing to put herself in so much danger just to make sure that Sammy is safe, she jumps the river in one go (despite the realized risk of her landing wrong on her bad ankle), as she’s sitting there cradling her injured ankle she remembers the first time Sammy offered her meaningful support, encouragement, and affection, she remembers how Sammy says she never gives up when it comes to friendship, Yaz knows deep down that Sammy would never give up on her and she sure as hell isn’t going to give up on Sammy, this reminds her what she’s fighting for and she gets back up, Yaz yells at the scorpius rex, basically telling it, “Come at me, bro,” Yaz is done taking shit from anyone, nothing is going to stop her from getting back to Sammy with that antidote, not even a freak of nature franken-dino with venomous spikes, during the final stretch of her journey, tired, injured, and terrified, Yaz trips and has several more flashes of memory in a row of moments where Sammy was saving her or hugging her or telling her that she’s her best friend in the whole world As I said in the last post, the term best friend is often used in children’s media to reference closer relationships between same-gender pairings in a way that adds queer subtext so it makes sense that this last part of Yaz’s flashbacks feels like a love confession from Sammy (albeit an indirect one) Yaz clearly loves Sammy too (even if she hasn’t consciously realized it yet) as she is willing to risk everything to save her and fix their relationship, when she gets back near the fort and sees how grim and somber the atmosphere is she musters every last bit of strength she has and pushes herself to the finish line, she is immeasurably worried that she will be (or already is) too late and she’ll lose Sammy forever, even after Brooklyn administers the antidote it takes a while for Sammy to show any kind of improvement so Yaz gets even more anxious and desperate, she even admits that she really does care about Sammy and she didn’t mean what she said before, she needs Sammy to know that, this scene reminds me a lot of the scenes in shows and movies where someone’s significant other is in the hospital and the healthy one gets very upset and refuses to leave the injured/sick one’s side When Sammy does wake up we are again treated to her perspective, the first person she looks over to is Yaz and the first thing she does is casually great Yaz (which is just adorable, as is Yaz’s genuine relieved smile after finding out that Sammy’s going to live), Yaz does everything she can to help and support Sammy, from checking on her when she first starts sitting up to supporting her while she’s walking to trying (and failing) to improve general morale in Sammy’s stead, ultimately Yaz’s plan to improve morale just freaks everyone out but the fact that she’s trying for Sammy’s sake is really sweet Also, can we just talk about the fact that Yaz has her hand fully on Sammy’s thigh when she asks how Sammy’s feeling? Or the way Yaz practically melts into the hug Sammy gives her?

Or the way she keeps taking, like, every opportunity to touch Sammy (rubbing her shoulder and her back, wiping the extra water off her face, etc.)? I’m sorry, there’s no heterosexual explanation for that combo The way that Yaz holds and protects Sammy during the stampede, the way that Sammy clings to Yaz with both hands (fingers tense and digging into Yaz’s arm), and the way they huddle close to each other suggest that they are both dealing with some direct trauma, Sammy just narrowly escaped the clutches of death at the hands (spikes?) of a dinosaur and now here they are possibly about get trampled (again), she still doesn’t feel good and she turns to Yaz for comfort, likewise Yaz is still very much aware that she almost lost Sammy and she had to leave her in order to get the antidote so she wants to make double damn sure that Sammy knows she’s there and that she’ll protect her, when it comes time for them to run Sammy has a moment of self-doubt, Yaz knows that Sammy needs her to snap her out of it in her own Yaz way (as opposed to trying to be overly cheery and positive like she was earlier) Yaz continues to offer gentle touches to comfort Sammy on the boat and when Sammy finds out that Ben plans to stay on the island instead of coming with them on the boat, she also uses physical touch to share Sammy’s excitement when Ben decides he actually does want to come with the rest of them on the boat, she also continues to protect Sammy from the onslaught of dinosaurs they have to unleash to get rid of the shady guy working with Dr. Wu who made them leave the boat, Yaz pulls Sammy out of the way of multiple dinos and holds her close Last but certainly not least, when they finally get back to the boat and leave the island we get this absolutely precious moment where Sammy is sleeping and Yaz comes over, looks at her, gives a contented/relieved sigh, and smiles one of the warmest smiles we have ever seen her smile, if that’s not the face of someone in love I don’t know what is, here they are finally safe, Sammy can rest, Yaz doesn’t have to worry about being immediately by Sammy’s side all the time to protect her from danger and she can just enjoy being around her I suspect that in season 4 we will likely see their relationship develop further because of them having some time and space on the boat (and possibly wherever they go next) to process and confront their feelings and, given that Brooklyn canonically asked if Sammy has a crush on Yaz, I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that they might even canonically end up in a romantic relationship Anyway, Yaz and Sammy are in love, thank you for coming to my TED Talk

#jwcc #yasammy #longpost

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boldlyvoid · 3 years ago

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Hypothetically | Chapter 25-27

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 18k

chapter 25

“What do you mean we’re working a missing dog case?” Hotch questioned his whole entire life at that moment as Mindy and Garcia explained the case they think they found.

“Sir, I promise you’re going to want to listen to this,” Garcia said softly, her green dress and pink hair pom-poms really reassuring him that everything was fine.

Y/N watched him roll his eyes and wish he was somewhere else, he had been getting more and more fed up with work lately. Having a hard time with Strauss, his wife, and the job in general. After Hayley almost died last year and being stabbed, he had the worst luck on the team.

“It’s going to take a minute for you to see what we see,” Mindy matched Garcia’s aura perfectly, dressed in a cat sweater.

“All 5 of these families have reported dogs missing in the Sacramento area. You think that’s not that weird, they’re probably stealing dogs for fights and step one in the serial killer handbook. But you’d be wrong,” Garcia explained, flipping from photos of missing dog posters to murdered families.

“The dogs go missing right, the parents put all their information onto a flyer, the flyer gets plastered into the neighbourhood where everyone sees it. The unsub takes the flyer, and the dog and returns it to the family just to get inside of the house. He learns what their safety protocols are like and then he decides to break in and murder,” Mindy laid it all out easily for them to follow.

“Is there any evidence that the killer is the dognapper?” Prentiss asked, chewing on the end of her pencil as she tried to wrap her head around it all.

“No,” Garcia pressed her lips together quickly. “But! Family number 5, they were murdered on Friday. Their crime scene is the newest, it’s where we’ll get the best idea of what’s going on.”

“Sir,” Mindy added. “If I’m correct about this, another family is going to die in 2 days. There’s been another small dog reported missing in Sacramento, the same type of family and everything. It’s a signature if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Send us everything you have, wheels up in 20,” Hotch sighed, taking his things and leaving the room.

“Is he okay?” Y/N asked Rossi.

Dave and he were the closest, Hotch never told his secrets of personal gossip to anyone else. He knew Rossi understood family problems the best. Having been married and divorced 3 times each.

“Don’t repeat this, Garcia that means you,” he teased her quickly. “He asked Hayley if she wanted more kids, after seeing you and JJ expanding the BAU’s gifted children program. She said she’d only have another baby if he took a few years off.”

“Oh,” Y/N wasn’t surprised. If Spencer wasn’t in the BAU he probably wouldn’t get it either. “He’s young, he can come back at any time, as you did.”

“Which is what I said to him. He just doesn’t know how he’d fill all the time yet, he doesn’t have an interest in fishing or cigars like moi,” Rossi explained. Standing up and straightening out his suit, “not to mention the writing chops to keep your brain fresh.”

“Come on grandpa, it’s time to board the plane you can brag later,” Derek patted him on the back. “Some of us like to stay active and have fun on our time off.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very fun,” Rossi argues as they leave the room. They were like a bunch of teenagers sometimes.

“Well, I’ll see you in a few days, just be in Vegas by Sunday at 2 pm,” Y/N frowned at Spencer. “Call me when you’re free?”

Spencer leaned in and kissed her softly. Rubbing his hand over her belly as he did so, saying goodbye to the little dude in there. “Be good, take care of each other.”

She smiled, wishing he didn’t have to go again. “We always do, come home to me safely boy wonder.”

In Penelope’s office, Mindy had basically moved in. It was big enough for the two of them and they worked together anyway. Sharing all the computer space, rolling around each other like crazy people as they switched jobs. That meant that Mindy’s office became Y/N’s office when she stayed back on a case.

Y/N would be 33 weeks pregnant as of Thursday, and officially Mrs. Dr. Reid by Sunday.

If everything went according to plan. This case seemed simple enough to get them home in time. If not, the flight from LA to Vegas wasn’t even that long. Y/N and Will had a plan if this was to happen, JJ and Spencer would head right to Vegas while Will and Henry flew in with Y/N. All she really needed was her wedding dress and hospital go-bag, and Spencer.

She wasn’t going to go into labour any time soon, Matty was still way too high and she was barely even having Braxton hicks contractions yet. If her body wasn’t practicing, surely it wouldn’t just start. She was a planner, she planned everything and this pregnancy didn’t seem to listen. All she wanted was for him to be born on or after June 10th, healthy and happy, that’s her only wish.

She hated cases like these, ones that made her sit behind a desk and just look at everything till it made sense. But it never did, not in her brain. Thinking like an unsub was the only time it made sense, but she never understood it. Kidnapping a dog just to kill a family was never going to be something one could just understand.

The only idea she had was to get someone inside the newest victims’ house and just wait for the unsub to return the dog. It would be the easiest way to bring him in for questioning. So she called Hotch.

“Hotchner,” he answered shortly.

“Hey, I was just wondering if you had a plan yet? If not, I’ve been thinking.”

“We’re trying to find a way to get eyes and ears inside the vics home,” Hotch explained, it sounded like he was driving and yelling over the speaker.

“I was thinking you could send in Reid or Morgan posing as a tutor or coach of some kind, then you can hide the equipment in the bag they bring in, it would be the least suspicious,” she ran her thoughts through to him.

“That would work, I’ll have the team see what we can do from our end,” Hotch ended the call abruptly. Still in the bad mood from when he left.

She couldn’t blame him, it’s a hard spot raising kids and having this job. Y/N and Spencer were still trying to figure out how they were going to pull it off. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for Haley, always being alone with Jack and half the time her life was in danger. The risk that came with the job almost didn’t feel worth it, especially when it meant losing your family on top of everything else.

They sent Derek in, with Penelope in his ear, as he set up the cameras and microphones. Setting up 24/7 patrol across the street in a model home. Meaning that Y/N’s job was basically over and all she had to do was kick her feet up and eat snacks until she could go home.

—

Spencer crawled into bed 2 days later around 4 in the morning, cuddling into her without even taking off his work clothes. She barely slept when Spencer wasn’t home, she opened her eyes when she noticed he was there, as if she hadn’t even slept yet.

He smelled like hotel soap and stale airplane air. “Hi,” he whispered as he tried to cuddle in close to her, being held back by her belly.

“Home just in time to have to fly out again,” she smiled at him softly.

“I know,” he sighed. “I doubt the bureau would like us if we used the jet to travel to a wedding. It’s bad enough we have one and no other unit does.”

“Are you excited or nervous?”

“Both.”

“Mmm,” she hummed along. “I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“I still haven’t written my vows and,” she stopped herself, frowning a little as Spencer laid a hand on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s all happening so fast. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to enjoy any of it and I’m worried if this is how fast the lead-up is, then how fast will the night be over?”

“Oh bunny,” he cooed. “I’ll make sure we get a moment alone, how about we sneak off during the party and go to the swing and just spend time together? Really make the most of our day.”

“Okay,” she smiled again. “A part of me wishes it was just us.”

“How about this,” Spencer said as he sat up, turning on the bedside lamp before getting out of bed. He looked through his underwear drawer and pulled out the box the rings were in. “Marry me, right now?”

“What?” She laughed.

“Just me and you, marry me?”

“It won’t count this way?” She rebutted, sitting up as well as she squinted in the light. Trying to wake up more.

“you’re not religious and you hate the government even though you work for them,” he reminded her. “Having a sheet of paper and dedicating my life to you are two completely different things.”

“I told you I don’t have my vows ready!”

Spencer sat on the bed, sitting directly across from her as he placed the rings on the bed. Taking both her hands in his as he looked into her eyes. “Just make it up?”

“You’re insufferable,” she teased him.

“And you love me,” he teased right back.

“Fine, Spencer Reid, you big fuckin’ dork,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “My whole life I’ve just wanted to love you. I don’t know how I managed to pull it off, but here I am."

She let out a long, shaky breath as she continued. "You complete me, I don’t feel right when you’re not around and I never want to lose you. Marrying you means more to me than just becoming your wife, I don’t care about the term or the tax benefits," she laughed as a tear fell down her cheek. he wiped it away quickly.

"I was perfectly content just being in your rotation. Being your partner for life is a blessing to me, I’m going to love you forever.” She picked up and ring and put it on his finger.

His eyes were glossy as he watched her shaking hand slip the ring over him. He loved her more than he even knew how to describe at the moment.

“Do you remember that one time you asked me to show you how a real man loves a woman?”

She laughed, looking down at her gigantic belly. “Kinda hard to forget when I’m carrying around this extra 30 pounds.”

“It reminded me of a quote I read on a swing one time,” he said softly, watching her eyes gleam as she knew where he was going.

“The unqualified truth is, that when I loved Y/N with the love of a man, I loved her simply because I found her irresistible. Once for all; I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. Once for all; I love her nonetheless because I knew it, and it had no more influence in restraining me, than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection.”

“What’s that from?” Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her cheeks, she had never known what book he was reading. She always wondered what his thoughts were in that moment when their eyes locked in remembrance all those years ago.

“Great Expectations by Charles Dickens,” Spencer replied, starting to cry as well.

That’s when she remembered it, looking over at the book that had been sitting on his bedside table for months. It was the book he re-read the most, the book he was reading that first night in Wichita when she asked to crawl into his bed. The book he put down before they conceived Matthew. The whole time she was falling in love with him, the way she did as a child, he was reading the same book because it reminded him of her.

“I didn’t expect that book to hold such a place in my heart the first time I read it. I only brought it to the park with me that day because it was the closest book to me, and I was having a really hard day,” he stopped to wipe his tears softly. “Yet somehow, every single bad day in my life has been made better by you. You’re my greatest expectation, and the only one I’m trying the hardest to live up to.”

“I love you,” she replied to him softly. Holding his face in her hands now as she stared into his eyes, “you’re always going to be everything I’ve ever wanted and all I’ll ever need. You’ve met every expectation, and beyond.”

“I love you,” he smiled. He took her left hand off his cheek, sliding the silver band over her ring finger, pressing it snugly against her engagement ring. “forever.”

“And then some,” Y/N added before kissing him softly.

She smiled against his lips, sitting back and looking at him with complete wonder. “Dr. Y/L/N,” she teased him, pretending to tip her imaginary hat.

“Agent Reid,” he copied her causing them both to laugh again.

“So when is our real anniversary then?” Y/N asked softly, trying to remember what day of the month it was.

“It’s April 20th.”

“Our anniversary cannot be 4/20!” She panicked. “Oh. My god!”

Spencer laughed from down deep in his gut, laying down against the sheets as she smacked his arm lightly. “I’m serious, but that’s so funny though,” she laughed too.

She laid back against the sheets then, Spencer cuddled into her side. His face in the crook of her neck while laying a leg over hers. She held him as close as she could, Matthew really starting to get in the way of everything she did now.

She let out a deep breath as she settled with Spencer against her. “I love you so much, my husband.”

“I love you more, my wife,” he replied. The words sounding like heaven on his lips.

chapter 26

She let out a deep breath when the dress actually zipped up. She was so worried that in the last 2 weeks her body had completely changed. JJ finished with her zipper, fluffing her dress and making sure everything was in place.

Her mom was wiping her tears for the 4th time in the last hour, Y/N couldn’t stop laughing every time she heard her sniffle. It didn’t feel as life-changing as her mother made it seem, Spencer and Y/N were already married in her opinion, this was just a nice formality for their parents.

She could hear all the people talking in her parent’s yard, a few kids yelling as they ran around each other. People were already drinking, there was food and snacks all around. It was just a big party where they were going to tell everyone exactly how much they loved each other.

As much as she was ready mentally, her body was shot. The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t leave, the baby was kicking from the anxiety in her body no matter how hard she tried to calm down. It was nerve-wracking to be so open in front of so many people.

It was even worse with the fact she hadn’t seen Spencer since yesterday. As much as he claimed he wasn’t superstitious, he really didn’t want to see her before the wedding. Claiming his mother was the worried one, Y/N let it slide no matter how much she hated sleeping in her childhood bed all by herself with a mini-gymnast in her stomach.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked her softly.

She nodded, looking in the mirror at herself one last time. “Can I have a minute?”

“Sure,” JJ smiled, taking Debbie with her as they walked out of her room.

She stood in the window, opening the blinds and looking out towards the swings once again. Spencer was sitting there, swinging while staring at her window.

She smiled, feeling the butterflies leave her system in a beautiful flurry as their eyes locked. She was ready, she had always been ready to marry him.

She walked out of the room and down the stairs, holding the railing carefully. She was just wearing a pair of crocs under her dress, not trusting her big clumsy ass with heels.

She waited in the foyer as Emily walked across the street to gather everyone. She was officiating for them, Spencer wanted her to be the one to marry them, she was the closest thing to a sister he had.

Every single important person in their lives was in the crowd. Even Spencers father was there, in the back, quiet. Diana was happy to see him, Spencer felt indifferent. Gideon came too, which made it a little easier.

They all walked across the street then, gathering at the end of the makeshift aisle they laid out in the park. Penelope played a simple wedding march, starting the ceremony officially.

Everyone stood, turning towards them. Chloe went down first, dropping flower petals in big clumps here and there before running towards her mom. Then it was Y/N’s turn, opting out of the whole bridesmaid’s thing for the sake of not having to pick and choose between her co-workers and sisters-in-law.

Her dad extended an arm for her, she took it as she softly smiled at him. He looked like he was trying not to cry, “ready?”

“Let’s go,” she whispered.

Seeing Spencer at the end of the aisle was like a dream. She began to walk towards him, every step closer made her heartbeat louder and louder in her chest. Before she knew it she was standing in front of him, her dad giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before handing her over to Spencer.

The idea of giving her away was weird. He wasn’t giving her to him, he was simply helping her reach him. And he always had been.

Spencer’s hand was soft in hers and they stepped towards Emily together.

The music stopped then, causing them to turn to each other and smile. It was time.

It felt more like time stopped, however, getting a sort of tunnel vision for each other as the rest of the world faded away.

“Welcome everyone, you can take a seat,” Emily cut into the moment. “A few weeks ago Spencer asked me if I’d marry him off to his best friend, I of course said yes because who can say no to that face?”

Everyone laughed as Spencer blushed. “Spencer is the smartest man to work in the FBI, we’re not afraid to admit that. From the day I met him, he was nothing but informative and kind, as well as shy and personal. It took a while to learn anything about him, but once you get to know him he’s like an open book. And it’s a good story.”

“Like most good fairy tales, it’s a story told in two parts. Starting with a meet-cute of cosmic proportions, a plotline that would make any other ’right for each other at the wrong time,’ story run for the hills,” Emily exaggerated.

“And finally, a reunion,” her voice was soft then. “I’ll never forget the day Spencer held the door open for Y/N, she walked in with a smile on her face that was almost as big as Spencers. He introduced us to a childhood friend that day, not realizing she would become part of our family.”

Y/N felt herself getting a little choked up, seeing Penelope and JJ wiping their tears just off to the side.

“It’s a story best told in the first person,” Emily laughed at her own joke. “So, without further ado, ladies first,” she instructed, stepping away from the altar to keep the focus on them.

“Well?” Y/N shook her head at him, motioning with her hand for him to start speaking. Making everyone laugh once again. Spencer’s smile was adorable as he giggled.

“Would you say— hypothetically, of course, that soulmates are real, Doctor Reid?” She questioned him softly.

He nodded, “I would.”

“Good,” she smiled. “Because I think you’re mine. And I think I’ve known that for a very long time. There was something about you, that first day I saw you. You weren’t shoving dirt up your nose or pulling on my hair. You were reading a book, I believe it was Matilda, you were all by yourself and you looked sad.”

“Me, being me,” she laughed to herself, “I marched over to you and I asked if you wanted to play in the sandbox with me. One small gesture changed the entire course of my life, you became a friend and then a stranger again in the blink of an eye. I know what it’s like to know of you and not be in your presence and it’s the worst.”

She didn’t want to cry, but she knew she was about to. “I know you’re my soulmate because my soul physically aches when you’re not around. Like magnets, I’m pulled towards you and I’m willing to crush anything that gets in the way. You and I were once the same cosmic rock just floating through space, separated for millions of years until the time was right.”

“I found you right when I needed you,” she wiped a tear off her cheek quickly. “When we needed each other. And I’m never going to let you go.”

She turned towards Emily, grabbing a ring from her. “With this ring, you’re tied to me for eternity now, the way things always should have been.”

“I love you,” Spencer whispered, wiping his own tears before holding her hands again.

“Your turn, pretty boy,” she teased him one last time, laughing to try and stop the tears.

“Most of you know the story,” Spencer began his speech. Staring into Y/N’s eyes, trying to forget there was an audience.

“We met in kindergarten, she was wearing a sundress with green and pink flowers, much like today. You had bangs back then and a cute pink bow in your hair. And you were as stubborn then as you are now,” he smiled. “Mrs. Richardson had told me twice that we weren’t allowed to put water in the sandbox, no matter how important it was to the construction of my model pyramids. That’s why I was reading my book. You went to your backpack, grabbed a water bottle, and poured it right into the sand without thinking twice about the consequences.

“I didn’t really see you again until I was 13, I sat on that swing with my copy of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens while you sat in your window way up there.” He pointed at her house, past the swing set. “I’ll never know what you were reading or what you were thinking, but I have the exact moment I saw you ingrained in my memory,” Spencer’s words were soft as his thumbs ran over her hands.

“Out of my thoughts! You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets.” Spencer recited from memory.

“You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. Y/N, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God bless you,” Spencer’s voice trailed off to a whisper as he reached the end.

“I read that quote moments before seeing you again, and part of me knew the universe had greater plans for us. And I knew, Love her, love her, love her! If she favours you, love her. If she wounds you, love her. If she tears your heart to pieces – and as it gets older and stronger, it will tear deeper – love her, love her, love her!”

“With this ring,” Spencer finally added. Lifting the last ring from Derek’s extended hand, placing it on Y/N’s ring finger where it belonged. “I vow to love you till my very last moments, and if heaven is real I’ll be waiting for your loving embrace.”

She wiped her tears quickly, looking up as she tried to stop her mascara from smudging. “You’re a dick sometimes,” she started to laugh before hearing the crowd do the same.

“You love me,” he teased her.

“I do,” she smiled, pulling him in and kissing him hard on the lips. Getting lost in his embrace as the world around them stopped.

—

Having every single person that she loved mingle around her parent’s backyard felt a little surreal. Her father and Rossi were smoking cigars together on the desk, Levi and Will were discussing training stories while Chloe and Henry chased each other around the yard.

Emily and Noelle were slowly dancing in their own little world to the music that played, not too far from Haley and Arron who had the same idea. Jack was talking to Derek, sharing stories about their favourite superhero.

Diana and Debbie were going around making sure everyone had a drink or a snack, discussing their children and showing off to everyone that was there. It was a lot to take in, but she wouldn’t change it for the world. This was the most perfect little wedding she could have ever asked for.

Spencer never left her side, holding her hand where ever she went for the majority of the night. Knowing she hated being the centre of anyone else attention, calming her down from all the eyes that were on her.

“Do you want to go to the swing?” He whispered in her ear when they were finally alone.

“Please,” she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Wanting to just be alone with him for a while.

She snuck out of the yard and across the street, Y/N sat down on the swing for the first time in years, her big belly thanking her for the relief. Spencer pushed her lightly on the swing, helping her swing in the late-night spring breeze in rural Nevada.

The light in her bedroom was still on, illuminating the empty room she called hers for the majority of her life. Still unable to process the fact that she did it, she married Spencer. She made a life in his orbit, she was happy and loved and making a family with the man of her dreams.

This was the best revenge she could have ever gotten on any childhood bully or predator in her life. Pure happiness, that no one could take from her. Knowing she did this on her own, meeting Spencer out of the blue and building a life of joy and peace was so unbelievably wonderful.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Spencer asked softly as he continued to push her on the swing.

“I’m just amazed that I did it,” she said softly.

“Did what?”

“all this,” she waved her arm out in front of her. “I grew up, I made friends and a family and found the love of my life even after believing for so long that I never would.”

“the universe had better plans for you than you thought,” She could hear the smile on Spencer’s face as he spoke. “You’re so deserving of the world and then some, you’re worth the universe to me. Brighter than any star in the sky, more powerful than the big-bang.”

She dragged her feet along the sand, stopping the swing abruptly before turning around to see Spencer. His eyes glistened in the moonlight or the streetlight. Either way, his brown eyes were glowing as she looked up at him softly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, pressing her cheek against his chest softly. “For showing me that love is real.”

“Being able to love you has been the best part of my life.”

She pulled him into another kiss, holding his face softly as she peppered kisses to his lips over and over. “You get me forever.”

“And then some.”

“Hypothetically,” she teased him lightly. “Anything is possible when the two of us get together.”

“I love you,” was all he could say before kissing her again.

They could hear the music travelling across the street for the yard, she wrapped her arms around him and swayed to the beat. Taking a moment completely alone with him to just appreciate him. To hold him close, hear his heartbeat through his suit jacket and just take it all in.

The rest of her life started at that moment, the birth of a new future. One with endless possibilities, endless happiness, and the most love in the whole world.

Soulmates, 500 years in the making.

Placing 500 more years of possibilities in the hands of Fate, who cradled them in her loving embrace. Making a future for them unlike any she’s made before.

Epilogue

2020

The birds chirping used to make her wake up with a smile, now it made her panic a little. She was so overly used to being woken up to a baby crying, a kid with a tummy ache, or the sound of fighting coming from the cribs in the twin’s room.

When it was quiet she worried, opening her eyes and looking around to see all 4 of her children cuddled up around her and Spencer. Completely asleep, and absolutely adorable.

Matthews’s face was beside hers on the pillow. His long hair falling over his face, just like his fathers used to all those years ago. She kissed her baby on the forehead, unable to fully understand that he was 10 now.

The twins were in the middle, Harper and Derek were attached at the hip all day long. Sleeping basically on top of each other, it was the only way they were peaceful. Since being squished together in the womb, they’ve become best friends and each other’s comfort person over the last 6 years.

Alice on the other hand was a daddy’s girl. Probably because she got the most time with him, 2 and a half years’ worth of all Spencer’s love and affection.

Spencer had quit the BAU when they got pregnant with their last baby, deciding he wanted to be with his kids full time. He wanted to be more present, to make more memories and just be a good dad.

Every morning Alice would find her way into the bed, she’d do whatever it took to get between Y/N and Spencer, cuddling into her father’s arms and going back to sleep. Almost every time, she would push her mom’s arms away, waking Y/N up in the process just to smirk at her as if to say; “haha my turn.”

She loved her little family. And they loved her too, she had been out of town for a week on a really bad case that required all hands on deck. They called her every day, begging her to come home soon, breaking her heart. So it wasn’t a surprise to see all of them snuggled in, taking in all the time with her that they could.

Matthews’s eyes fluttered as he woke up, his big beautiful brown eyes looking at her softly. “Mom,” he said softly with a smile before wrapping his arms around her neck and snuggling into her. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, Mr. Magoo,” she whispered into his hair, holding him close. He still smelled like her little baby, only bigger as he rested against her.

“Are we still going to Uncle Dave’s tonight?” He asked as he settled against her, wanting her to run her fingers through his hair. It calmed him as it did for Spencer, soothing his mind as it ran a million miles a minute.

“I think so,” she replied, picking him up softly and laying on her back more. “I think all your cousins are going to be there too.”

“Even Jack?” He asked, sitting up with wonder in his eyes. Jack was 15 now, and just the coolest dude in Matthews’s life. Much like how Spencer looked up to Hotch in the beginning.

“Even Jack!” She whispered with enthusiasm, trying to keep the others asleep but it was too late.

“Mommy!” Harper cried, pushing Derek away from her as she leaped into her mother’s arms.

“Hi sweetheart,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as she got smothered in hugs from the twins.

Spencer looked over at her then. Alice was snuggled into his neck, one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hair. She had always played with his hair every chance she could get. Especially whenever he held her or gave her a ride on his shoulders as they walked through the park.

“Hi,” Spencer smiled.

There he was, the love of her life. His smile made her feel at home, the love between them only growing every morning when they laid eyes on each other.

“Are you going to say hi to mommy?” Spencer asked Alice, rubbing her back softly.

She raised her hand to wave softly before dropping it back onto Spencer’s head with a smack, “ow?” He laughed lightly, making her bounce on his chest and laugh in response.

She was always quiet in the morning, leaving all the talking to her siblings. She was the calmest of them all, she was also the easiest of the 4 of them. She didn’t cry unless she was desperate for food or attention, she slept through the nights and was just all around not fussy at all. A literal blessing to their lives.

The twins were a lot, they knew they would be. She doesn’t miss the days and nights of them taking turns screaming. And she definitely doesn’t miss the ache of her body as two babies sucked her dry for almost 6 months. Breastfeeding kicked her ass the most, eventually making her lose too much weight and faint from low blood pressure, it sucked.

The outcome was beyond worth it. Derek and Harper were the craziest, funniest, loudest 6-year-olds in the whole world. If they weren’t writing a show, pretending to direct a spooky movie or pulling pranks on their father, they were planning to.

They had a specific dynamic, Harper was the planner and Derek was the do-er. Harper would come up with the sneakiest, worst ideas a child could have and somehow always managed to convince Derek to do it for her. A modern-day Jekyll and Hyde terrorized her home.

But Matthew, He was the sweetest. Being a single child till the age of 4 meant he was around Spencer and Y/N all the time, just the three of them. He’s shy but outgoing, he speaks his mind and he isn’t afraid to share his thoughts and feelings. He’s the best part of both of them but with all the confidence to follow his dreams. He was handsome and smart, he was sweet and kind, he was her baby. Forever and always, no matter how big he got.

He’s smart like Spencer, but not jumping through elementary school as fast. They agreed to let him decide when he turned 14. He deserved the chance to grow up with his own age group, to make friends and memories that were good and happy, to build the confidence to stand up for himself and others before he finished school. He didn’t mind it, he enjoyed helping other students when he finished his work early and asking for extra credit assignments.

And he liked being in class with Roz LaMontagne. They were smitten with each other from day one, always holding hands and playing nicely. JJ and Y/N always felt bad peeling them apart from each other at the end of a playdate, they were best friends.

It was like Roz had 2 older brothers with Henry and Matt, the 3 of them being so close in age they were often mistaken for triplets, with JJ and Y/N being their lesbian moms. It was a ruse that came in handy when they saw men checking them out, or when they wanted a family discount at the zoo.

Her life felt perfect, it was far from it in reality but she was happy with that. She worked long hours, her kids missed her every day, she didn’t see Spencer as often as she’d like and she was always tired. But that was what it took, she would work herself to the bone in an instant if it meant that she could come home and be snuggled like this every time.

“How was your week?” She asked Harper, brushing her strawberry blond hair behind her ear as she cuddled into her other side. Now having 3 children laying on top of her.

“Dad took us to the air and space museum,” Derek answered for her.

“No way!” Y/N enthused. “You need to tell me everything you learned!”

“The Museum is the largest of the Smithsonian's 19 museums and its Center for Earth and Planetary studies is one of the Institution's nine research centres. More than eight million people a year visit the Museum's two locations, making it one of the most visited museums in the country,” Matthew explained, remembering the sign at the entrance from memory.

“Wow, what was everyone’s favourite part? Maybe we can go again soon and you can all show me?” She suggested, riling them all up till they were bouncing on the mattress and screaming suggestions back and forth.

“Okay, okay,” Y/N settled them down. Watching them all sit-down and smile as they tried to stop laugh and listen. “Why don’t we go get breakfast and spend the morning together before we get ready to go to Aunt Penny’s party tonight okay?”

“I thought it was Uncle Dave's party?” Derek asked.

“It’s at his house but you know how aunt penny plans,” Y/N smiled at him. “How about you all go get dressed and pick something nice to wear while I talk to your dad for a bit?”

“Anything I want to wear?” Harper questioned her, very serious.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, “something nice, but yes your choice.”

“Yes!” Harper screamed, hopping off the bed making the whole room shake as she ran down the hall. The sound of her bare feet slapping the hardwood carrying through the hallway in an echo.

“Matty, I’ll dress Alice, can you just watch her for a minute?” Spencer asked as he placed Alice in the middle of the bed.

“Sure,” Matthew smiled. “Come on Ali, I’ll read you a book?”

She put her arms out for her brother to carry her, and soon enough it was just Spencer and Y/N all alone again. Spencer and her both falling back against the pillows and sighing in the quiet.

Spencer pulled her into a hug, wrapping himself around her as he kissed her cheek, “I missed you so much, I hate when you’re gone.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” she said softly. “I got a job offer last night, and I think I’m going to take it.”

“What is it?”

“VICAP and the BAU are merging, even more, I’ve been asked to be the Chief of VICAP to personally overview the program and pass the information along to Prentiss,” She explained. “It would be a 9-5 thing, 5 days a week. I’d be home for dinner and all weekend long. We could have another baby or go on vacation? You know the possibilities are endless.”

Spencer kissed her again, “you’d be able to help people and be home all the time.”

“Exactly,” she smiled into his embrace. “I told them I’d let them know later today, they want me to start next month.”

“Follow your gut,” Spencer whispered, happy at the decision she was making either way.

“My gut is currently saying ‘feeeeed meeee’, so let’s get going!” She cheered as she tried to escape from his embrace.

He just held on tighter, tickling her stomach and kissing her neck, “help!” She cried, joking obviously and the kids knew that. Sure enough, 4 pairs of feet came running back into their room, dog piling them.

“I said help! Not suffocate me?!” She teased them as Spencer let her go, each taking a child and tickling them instead. Everyone was screaming again, giggling from deep in their stomach, feeling sick from how happy they were.

She loved every moment of it.

—

After 10 years, the BAU had gone through a lot of changes. Everyone seemed to come and go at least once, some leaving for good when their families started. But there were a lot of new faces now, once someone was on the team they were family.

It was a rare occasion for everyone to get together, especially now that almost everyone had kids. Spencer and Y/N went from being the 2nd set of parents to aunty and uncle to 8 kids in 10 years.

That meant that there were currently 12 screaming kids terrorizing Rossi’s beautiful backyard as the adults sat around the fire. “Please tell me no one here has a baby announcement to make, I don’t think I can handle a thirteenth,” Rossi complained, grey hair making him look more like papa Rossi than uncle Dave now.

“No,” everyone said in unison, laughing at the abundantly clear meaning. They were all too tired to do it all again.

“Like Spencer’s mom said, why have another when you can stop at perfection?” Emily joked as she leaned into Noelle’s embrace. “PJ is the best little guy in the world.”

“Spencer makes some great kids,” Y/N laughed. Remembering that time Emily nervously asked them if Spencer would be the donor for her child. Wanting her kid to be born with the best DNA she could think of.

“That he does,” Noelle smiled, looking into the yard to see PJ, Michael and Hank roughhousing like they always were.

They all had kids fairly close together, always making sure each new member of the BAU's gifted children program had friends who were more like family in their lives. Their small chosen family expanded not only in size but with the amount of love they shared for each other.

Henry was 12 now, Jack 15. They had always gotten along well together, being a little more on the nerdy side. They welcomed Matthew into their little group with open arms, as well as Roz.

Hotch ended up becoming Section Chief, taking a desk job so that he could spend more time with his family. They welcomed Jessie 6 years ago, right around the time Y/N had the twins. She was a spitting image of Haley with all the stern seriousness of Hotch. Seeing her and Harper try and work together was always funny. Harper and Derek were always trying to start shit somewhere, while Jessie ran to Y/N to tattle on them. It was the funniest dynamic out of all the age groups, and it was only going to get worse as they grew up.

“I don’t know,” Y/N sighed, looking at her kids as they all smiled and laughed. The joy they brought her was unimaginable, “I think 5 would be interesting.”

“You’re a psycho, and I should know, I’m an expert,” JJ just shook her head, blinking at the craziness. “I can barely handle 3.”

“Alice was so easy though,” she whined. “All of them were good, I miss having a baby who wanted to cuddle with me. It’s not fair Spencer gets all the attention now.”

“You could always quit, they’d love that,” he teased her softly, not wanting to wake Alice as she slept on him, tired from playing with everyone during the afternoon.

“My new position is going to be better for us,” she smirked.

“What position?” Penelope yelled at her.

“I’m going to be the VICAP unit chief,” she smiled, watching them all light up as they congratulated her. Starling the sleeping Alice on Spencer’s chest.

“I think I’ve done enough fieldwork, I’d like to cook more dinners and read more bedtime stories now,” she smiled. “I never thought I’d say that.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” Haley added. “I never expected Aaron to slow down, but when he did I think it was the best thing he chose to do. Jack and Jessie love having him around all the time.”

“To 10 plus years on the job, 10 years of friendship and the 12 new lives we brought into this world,” Y/N said as she lifted her can of ginger-ale, everyone following with their own drinks.

“To family,” Prentiss added.

“To family,” they all repeated.

Taking a sip before smiling at each other, everything ended up okay. It was more than they ever expected, and everything they hoped for.

—

The kids all fell asleep on the ride home. Spencer and Y/N each taking one of the twins upstairs first, placing them in their beds softly before returning to the garage for the others. Finding Matthew trying to carefully bring Alice inside to help his parents.

“Hey Matty it’s okay,” Spencer whispered, placing a hand on his back. “you go inside with your mom and I’ll take care of this.”

“Okay,” he replied, extremely tired as his eyelids drooped.

Y/N wrapped her arm around his shoulders, he was almost as tall as her already and she wasn’t ready for that. “Come on my baby,” she whispered as she led him into the house and up the stairs.

She helped him change into a pair of pyjamas before helping him into his bed, covering him in his adorable planet-covered sheets. She tucked him in nice a snug before sitting on the edge, looking down at him as he closed his eyes and settled in.

She brushed his brown curls off his face, making way for the kiss she was about to leave on his forehead. “Goodnight my Matty Magoo, I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you to the edge of the milky way,” he replied with a small smile. “I’m excited for you to be home more. Dad worries about you and it makes him sad, I like seeing you both happy together.” He rambled all his thoughts out at night just like Spencer did.

She kissed his head softly, holding his cheeks in her hand as she looked into his beautiful brown eyes. “You are so sweet, have a good sleep and I will see you tomorrow. I love you.” She told him again, and she’d tell him a million more times if she could.

“I love you, too, mom,” he smiled one last time before closing his eyes.

She shut off his lamp, closing his door on the way out.

She stood in the hallway then, a hand on her heart as she thought about just how much she loved him. JJ wasn’t kidding when she said you grow a love so big you’d kill for them.

Back in the twin’s room, she made sure they were comfortable for the night, taking Harper out of the crazy dress and pants she picked out for the day. Tucking both of them into their little beds, kissing their heads before turning on their nightlight. They didn’t like the dark, and they liked to keep their door open a little so buddy could sneak in.

In her own room, she found Spencer in bed, shirtless with a book. He got sexier as he got older, it was impossible and yet it happened. Every year he looked different, in a wonderful way.

His hair was fluffy, his tummy was fuller— a dad bod as Penelope would call it. He wore glasses all the time now, having a hard time reading without them. It made him incredibly hot.

She changed into a cute pyjama set, satin shorts and a spaghetti strap top, wanting to get his attention away from whatever book he found this time.

She could feel his eyes on her as she changed, not wanting to look at him and make him stop.

He put his book down when she got in beside him, still on the right side after all these years. “What?” She asked him as he kept staring at her.

“Were you serious?”

“Yes I do think you’re sexy, I didn’t think you could read minds too?” She teased him.

“Funny,” he smiled at her. “Do you want another baby?”

She shrugged, “we could Russian roulette this and just see if it happens?”

“Seriously?” His voice dropped, softer than normal. “Because I would have 16 more kids with you if you wanted. They’re all so amazing, every time.”

“I know,” she felt her heart melt. “Matthew said you get sad when I’m not here, he worries for you.”

“All week, Harper wore her regular outfits because she likes making you laugh with her silly ones,” Spencer told her. They liked to share secrets about their kids at night. Basically profiling them.

“I love them,” her heart felt like it was going to burst.

“Come here,” Spencer requested, waiting for her to sit on his hips and look down into his eyes like she always did. She brushed the hair off his face, holding his cheeks in her hands.

His eyes are so much like Matthews, but it was Alice who looked the most like him. She had his nose, his chin, she was tall and skinny and just the most adorable copy of him. Every feature on him was in one of their kids, he saw the same thing in her.

“Are you sure?” She asked him softly.

“The only thing in the whole world that I know for certain is that I love you and this family. Even gravity is simply a hypothetical, but you and me… I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” his words soft and his expression softer.

She kissed him, pressing her lips against his for the first time in a while. It always felt like coming home, this was where she was meant to be.

When she pulled back all she wanted to do was look at him for a minute, to imagine what new little face the two of them could make together. All 4 of their children were so perfect, she couldn’t imagine a 5th possibility.

“Put a baby in me,” She whispered.

She didn’t have to tell him twice, he reached over to the night table to turn off the light before kissing her neck softly. His big, warm hands wrapped around her back, pulling her in closer to him.

He was so much different now from the first time they did this. Confident, stronger, older, but he was still her soft boy. He held her with care, kissed her like she was made out of glass. The contrast of his actions and the feeling of his rough hands on her body made her feel like she was on fire.

He pushed the straps of her shirt off her shoulders, dipping her back a little so he could kiss her cheek. He pushed her shirt down, freeing one of her breasts, holding it softly in his hands before kissing the newly exposed skin.

His tongue swiped across her nipple, making her gasp and grip his arm as she rutted into the feeling. He cradled her head in his hands, laying her back with her head now at the foot of the bed.

Still, between her legs, he pulled the satin shorts down slowly to see she never wore any underwear under them. He smirked, running his finger softly over her vagina, watching in awe as she spread her legs wider for him.

She could see how hard he was, his erection making a tent in his boxers as he teased her softly. “Still so perfect,” he praised her. “Look how tight you are, sucking my finger inside that tight heat.”

She tightened around him on purpose then, feeling his finger slip in even more. “Fuck,” he gasped. Moving down more to place a kiss on her clit.

Her breathing picked up then, even after 11 years of sex with this man, the thought of his tongue on her still made her shiver. He was just that good, always getting better every time he dove face-first into her.

Her back arched the second his tongue connected with her clit. Pushing herself into his tongue more and more as he explored her. Two fingers were inside of her now, Spencer’s mouth kissing and sucking and licking every single inch of her pussy as she quietly gasped into the darkness.

She wanted to scream for more, she always did, but she couldn’t anymore. There were 4 sets of ears just down the hall trying to have a peaceful night’s sleep, she had to remind herself of that every time.

“Fuck, Spencer,” she whispered, biting her lip so nothing else slipped out.

“What?” He whispered against her skin, kissing her groin and lower tummy.

“Please,” she begged softly, sitting up and climbing onto his lap once more. “Daddy?”

It had been years since she said that to him, not able to utter the words once he actually became a father. It lit a fire in him, pulling her in closer before he ripped the shirt off her body.

He held her against him, kissing her neck as he basically growled at the feeling. Becoming almost feral with the thought of fucking her. She was in love with the feeling, when he got rough with her it was the best.

She enjoyed every second of it, knowing she’d wake up in the morning with beard burn on her neck and between her thighs, not giving a single fuck. It was so worth it, the tickle of his facial hair on her skin beside his mouth, she craved it.

“I need you out of those boxers, sir,” she panted, holding his hair as he continued to kiss her neck.

He pulled off her, looking at her in the darkness with lust-filled eyes. “Lay back,” he instructed her.

She always listened, laying back against the pillows as he freed himself from the confines of his underwear. Crawling on top of her and hovering slightly as he looked down at her. He brushed her hair off her face, kissing her lips lightly before smiling.

“Tell me again what you want?”

She smirked, “I want you to put a baby in me, fill me up. Let me make you a daddy again?”

The noise that left his throat was enough to make her clit twitch again, it was deep and guttural and beyond sexy. He became an animal on nights like this.

She spread her legs again, wrapping her knees around him as he pulled him in against her body. “Fuck me, Spencer.”

He lined himself up with her quickly, dragging the head of his cock through her folds a few times before he began to push in. Little by little, achingly slow. Teasing her, knowing just how badly she wanted him to pound into her.

“Yes,” she sighed as he bottomed out, dropping her head back against the pillow softly.

Her hands roamed his back, waiting for him to start to move again. Digging her nails in when he finally did, pulling out slowly before pushing back in with effort.

“Ah,” she moaned softly, covering her own mouth as he started to move faster.

“Shhh,” he reminded her, kissing her neck again as he found his rhythm.

“Shut up and fuck me then,” she sounded desperate. “Please,” she added. Not wanting him to stop out of spite.

“Shut up and take it,” he ordered, placing his own hand over her mouth as he fucked her harder.

She couldn’t believe it, he was holding one hand over her mouth while his other reached for her clit, making her jolt forward at the contact. It was everything she wanted, it was rough and powerful and just the best reminder that she belonged to him.

Spencer was hers, she was his, they created this entire world together. She felt so overwhelmed, she wasn’t aware that she was crying at the pleasure till Spencer moved his hand off her mouth to wipe off a tear.

“Keep going,” she encouraged him. “Please, please.”

“Shhh,” he soothed her, “I’m going to make you feel so good bunny, you’re going to be so full, so beautiful carrying another one of our babies.”

That did it for her, she tilted her head back as she arched her back. Pulling Spencer’s fingers into her mouth so that she wouldn’t moan too loud as she came on his cock.

Spencer shuttered at the feeling, fucking into her with vigour as he tried to hold in his own moans. Sounding more like a whimper when he finally came, spilling into her with the force of a Mack truck.

He dropped against her body then, breathing deep into her neck. She wrapped her legs around him tightly, holding him inside of her so nothing slipped out. “Fuck.”

“I love you,” Spencer breathed against her skin.

She ran her fingers through his hair softly before kissing his forehead. “I love you more.”

They stayed like that for a while, only pulling apart finally to get cleaned up. Spencer turned back on the light, helping her to the bathroom quietly before stripping the sheets off the bed.

She returned to a freshly made bed and a dressed Spencer waiting for her. She put her shorts and a t-shirt back on, slipping into bed and cuddling into him once more. Having to look presentable for when the kids eventually came running into their room at 7 am.

She sighed into his embrace, smiling softly against his skin. “What was that Buddha quote you told me all those years ago?”

“When you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other,” Spencer replied softly.

“Goodnight, Spence,” she kissed his jaw softly as she snuggled in closer.

“Goodnight, bunny.”

the end

#hypothetically #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

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