#the serious warm red instead of the dr blood pink

[joheun-saram]

Christmas Under Wraps (ksj)

Summary- You always wanted to work in a small town, and when you finally got matched to a small hospital in Alaska for your one year sabbatical you never would’ve thought you’d be in a place where everyone believed Santa was real. Mass hysteria or magic? Only time will tell.

word count- 12k

pairing- nurse!Seokjin x doctor!Reader

rating- R

genre- fluff, smut

warnings- very bad puns, me having no knowledge of Alaska, cheating, shitty parents, mentions of the horrendous Mario movie, softdom!Jin, whiny!Jin, explicit sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), edging (kinda), multiple orgasms, too many references to Santa

a.n- Part of @suhdays​ Hallmark Holiday Collab! Please check other beautiful holiday pieces written by some amazing writers. Full disclosure, this fic took me more than a month to write, mostly because I have only seen like three Christmas movies, and one of them was Die Hard and the other was Nightmare before Christmas, so please let me know what you think! Was this Christmasy enough for you? 

s/o to the amazing @namyoongles​ for the banner! ily! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“Mr Henderson, I really need you to watch your carbohydrate intake. Your blood sugar indicates pre-diabetes and with your history of angina, it really is important that you keep this in check. I’m going to need you to do a monthly fasting glucose check for the next three months so we see some results. Okay?”

You look over at the smiling overweight septuagenarian seated in front of you. Mr Henderson was one of your favourite patients, one of the few you knew well enough to remember even his grandchildren’s name. You loved that. Being a doctor in a busy hospital in Manhattan made making a lasting connection with a patient a rare occurrence, and although you were worried about his health, you were happy you the last appointment of your five years of residency was with someone you knew.

“Doc, I’m old. A little dessert never hurt anyone huh?” Mr Henderson joked, as he patted his stomach, the buttons of his shirts working hard to keep it together.

“I’m serious, Mr Henderson,” you speak sternly, looking up from your iPad screen at the man in front of you, just as your attending walks in through the door.

“Well, Mr Henderson you better listen to Dr. Y/L/N. She’s the best we’ve got and she will keep calling you in for appointments even if she isn’t here!” She adjusts her glasses, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, as the two delve into a conversation about her upcoming retirement. You were sad to see your mentor and friend retire, but if you were being honest, it was that fact that gave you the courage to make your big move. 

Your colleagues and friends were shocked when you announced that you were moving to Alaska. You had always been the top of your program and had an assortment of top specialization programs to choose from. In fact, your father was the most shocked. He expected you to follow his footsteps and specialize in internal medicine from the prestigious program at John Hopkins. He had even spoken to one of his friends on the admission board to ensure your acceptance. 

He almost choked on his dinner when you mentioned that you had accepted the family medicine specialization program in the small town of Elophtron in Alaska. He was livid, having never even heard of the town, let alone the program, deeming it unworthy of his 28 year old prodigy. But that’s the thing. You were twenty eight. There was no way you would let your father, or anyone for that matter, dictate what to do with your career. 

The only person who seemed to support your decision was your long term boyfriend, Jiho, who seemed ecstatic at the news. He was the first person you told. You were nervous when you broke the news, the two of you had been a little distant the past few months, but your worries were assuaged when he pulled you in a tight hug excitedly telling you how proud he was of you. He knew how much you wanted to take a break from the city, and seeing his enthusiastic support made you confident you were making the right move.

Born and raised in New York City, the overcrowded bustle of the city thrummed through your veins. While you did pride yourself on being a true New Yorker, you would be lying if you said that you were happy here. It was easy to be lost here, to be forgotten amongst the millions of faces crossing the streets. As often as the city lights cheered you up, they also suffocated you. 

The city was cold, a criss cross of concrete and beautiful glass towers housing lonely, selfish souls that didn’t mind tripping over the people sleeping in the streets. People here craved to be noticed, craved to live lavishly, and while you were born into what most craved, what you wanted was the solace of a town where everyone knew each other. A town where you could make lasting relationships that didn’t rely on your last name or where you graduated from.  Elopthron, although a terribly sci-fi sounding town name, was your reprieve from the smog filled mundane.

The days leading up to your departure were full of excitement. You packed quickly, your closet surprisingly fitting into two bags that barely avoided the baggage limit. Your friends hosted a cute little going away party, full of champagne and promises to visit, while your parents hosted a cold dinner, full of lectures and judgement. As your flight landed in Juneau, your heart was beating with nerves. This specialization was at the town’s only hospital, the fact that all the town’s medical talent was under one roof had you excited to learn. Not only that, but the program stated that you would get the opportunity to run things and you couldn’t wait to put your leadership skills to the test again - you were the chief resident at your old hospital and you couldn’t say that the role didn’t suit you.

Collecting your bags, albeit with a little struggle, you reach the doors to the arrivals where the hospital had told you to meet the driver. That is another thing about this dream opportunity, they not only ensured you had a ride into town, but even provided you with your own apartment. To your shock, the driver you meet takes you not to a car but another plane, a small little thing that shakes with every gust of wind. 

It makes you nervous, the shaking rattling your heart around your chest, but the view of the snow covered mountains takes your breath away. You were never one to swoon over nature, preferring your apartment to the hiking trips Jiho got excited about, but seeing the fresh untouched snow stirred something in you. It promised fresh starts and unchartered challenges, and that made your heart beat faster in anticipation.

The feeling didn’t subside even when you made yourself comfortable in your new apartment. The warm wooden finishing was a stark contrast to the metal of your home in Manhattan and as you started the fire before hanging your clothes in the small wardrobe in the corner of your room, you couldn’t stop the grin etching across your features. You were finally here.

The apartment was on the first floor of a two storey complex. It was much smaller than your expansive home, but instead of suffocating it felt cozy. The front door opened to a small hallway furnished simply with a cute oak shoe rack and a full length mirror. It led to an open concept kitchen and living room, separated by a breakfast island. The living room had a large fireplace, stack of wood next to it, and a large yellow couch opposite it. Furnishing was minimal, but your bedroom boasted a large queen sized bed, anchored on each side by matching nightstands and a wardrobe in the corner. 

It was everything you didn’t know you craved as you settled in your bed for the night, noting to thank the hospital for even providing the bedding. As you stared at the wooden slats that decorated the ceiling of your bedroom, you felt comforted. It was unlike your home, where the high ceilings made you feel cold and alone, even when Jiho stayed over. Perhaps you needed this new beginning more than you thought.

The morning was not as serene however, as you somehow managed to turn off your alarm without waking up and were running half an hour behind schedule when you realised you didn’t have a coffee maker. Scrambling out into the cold early December weather you pulled your expensive but utterly useless coat around you as you followed your map app to the closest and seemingly only coffee shop on the one strip of shops the town boasted.

Checking the time to see you still had about half an hour till work started, you slowed down a little to take in the surroundings. Quaint did not cover how cute the small town was. The main strip was a large two way street with a row of little independently owned shops on either side with names such as Once Upon a Book, A Nick in Time, and Thorns and Roses. You didn’t know what these shops housed, although you could guess some, and you couldn’t wait to explore. The cutest thing about the shops was how festive everything looked, fairy lights strung everywhere, mistletoe and wreaths in every window. Like you had stepped into the Grinch’s nightmare, and it was barely October. This might possibly be the most fairytale like town you’d ever stepped foot into. 

You easily located the small coffee shop, chuckling at the ostentatious pink board reading Bean There. It seemed more like an 70’s style diner than a coffee shop, filled with small vinyl tables, each with a small Christmas tree on it. Making your way to the counter, you ordered your usual, blond roast coffee with a splash of almond milk.

“Oh sorry hon. We only have normal coffee and cow’s milk,” the older woman standing behind the cash register answered with a jolly laugh, pouring coffee from a pot into a red to-go cup. Before you could say anything, she continued. “Besides, that’s some hippy stuff. We’ve been drinking cow’s milk for generations and our family has never been healthier! I swear these trends are killing the economy!”

And she talked, going on and on about the benefits of milk giving you no time to interrupt as she poured a copious amount of milk into your coffee making it resemble a latte. You were about to give up and forego the coffee this morning till someone behind you decided to speak up.

“Doris! What did we say about forcing the tourists to drink your farm’s milk?” You followed the deep, joyous voice to its owner, blinking a few times as you registered the tall, dark haired man behind you. Oh and what a man he was. 

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a red flannel shirt under a fur-lined denim jacket, your eyes zeroed in on his broad shoulders. The instant attraction you felt to this stranger had heat rising up your neck. Emboldened by the fact that you would probably not see this stranger again, you let your eyes roam his body, biting your lip slightly, till your eyes met his, a small smirk on his lips. Clearing your throat you awkwardly stepped forward.

“It’s okay. No problem, Doris, was it?”

“No no. You want almond milk, you get almond milk! Doris I know for a fact you have it back there!” The stranger stops you from grabbing the drink on the counter, a hand held up.

“Seokjin! I see how it is! Just because a pretty girl wants almond milk, you share but not when Jeremy wanted to try it.” Doris huffs, straightening her bright yellow apron.

“Jeremy was drinking it as a dare, and I’d rather not waste one of the ten cartons that Dosey orders every month on stupidity.”

“Um… Really it’s fine! I’m going to be late for work so… thank you!” You try to escape. As much as your lactose intolerant gut was wincing at the thought of almond milk, you had spent way more time here than you planned.

“Wait, work? Hon you’re not a tourist at all! Where are you working?” It seemed you only made the conversation more interesting as Doris looked at you beaming.

“At the hospital?”

“You’re the new doctor? Oh my! Welcome Doc! We’re so excited to have you here! I suppose you’ll be seeing a lot of Seokjin then!” She slapped the stranger, Seokjin you suppose, on the shoulder as he stares at you with wide eyes before catching himself and clearing his throat.

“Doris! Will you just make the pretty doctor her drink then? Mine too please!” He leans on the counter and you can’t help but steal another glance at him. He really was oddly beautiful.

“Sure hon! Here you go!” Doris chuckled as she placed two coffees on the counter and you’re pleased to see yours looking exactly how you prefer. You take out your wallet before Seokjin stops you.

“Don’t worry about it. Put it on my tab Doris. Here, let me walk you to work.” He guides you out of the little cafe, a hand hovering near the small of your back.

“I’m sure you have better things to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’m going there myself.” 

“Oh. Are you a resident?” You did not expect that. By his attire you assumed he worked some manual labour, and by his face you assumed he worked as a model. Somehow you couldn’t picture seeing this man living at a library like you had your years of schooling.

“Nope. Head nurse. So Doris is right, you’ll be seeing me a lot.” He grinned at you, his cheeks puffing up in a way that made you want to poke them. What was in the air in this town? You needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Oh nice to meet you then! I’m -”

“Dr. Y/L/N from New York, right?” Seokjin cut you off before you could finish, looking at you over the lip of his cup as he sipped his coffee, casually guiding you down the main street towards the hospital.

“Right… Seokjin?”

“Yup. Kim Seokjin. How are you liking our little town so far?” He seemed genuinely interested and you smiled. It felt oddly comfortable even if you had inklings of butterflies swarming your belly.

“I love it. It’s really beautiful!”

“Oh wow. Didn’t expect a New Yorker to like it here. You know it’s always cold, right?” he smirked, slowing down as you reached a cute little pink house, before stopping completely.

“I can handle the cold. Wait, this is the hospital?” You looked at the house. It looked more like something a grandma would reside in than a hospital. You were used to glass buildings and top of the art hospitals. As you entered, the door opened to a large waiting area with faded vinyl chairs and a reception desk. It was cozy, but you couldn't believe this was the only hospital in town.

“The one and only. The town’s going to be so excited to finally have a doctor 

again!” His words made you sputter, almost choking on your coffee.

“What do you mean, finally? Where are the other doctors?”

“You’re it!” He grinned.

This was not according to plan. You were here to learn. Learn from people much more well-versed in medicine than you were. You did not expect to be the only doctor. Even if the town only had around 2,000 people, it was still outrageous that you would be the only person treating them, and in this small house. Does this place even have any imaging machines?!

As the day went on, your nerves only increased. Seokjin introduced you to the other people who worked at the hospital. There were only three others, two orderly, and another nurse. There were more people in your friend group of residents back home. This was scary, and as you laid in bed that night, all you wanted to do was talk to Jiho and get comforted. He didn't pick up, and you counted the slates on your ceiling to fall asleep, pushing your mind to rest no matter how alone you felt all of a sudden.

----------

Turns out you were not that alone. Within a month you had finally gotten into the groove of things. Your five-person team gelled together pretty fast, and soon you could anticipate each other's moves and even talk without words. Running a hospital, however, was not all you had cracked it up to be in your head. Although you didn't see too many patients daily, the paperwork kept you way past dinner most days. If it weren’t for Seokjin’s insistence to leave at the same time as you, you might as well had moved into your office.

All in all, it was nice. The town had welcomed you with open arms, and it was exactly what you were looking for when you left Manhattan - a place where everyone knew your name and not because of who your family was, where you could walk into a coffee shop and they'd know your order, where you knew your neighbours and attended extravagantly cheesy block parties. Elopthron had its quirks, how almost everyone here put way too much emphasis on Christmas, adults even going as far as pretending Santa Claus was real for the kids all the time. You weren’t kidding, one time a middle aged patient insisted on not ordering the brace he needed because he knew Santa would bring him one on Christmas. When you told Jenny, the other nurse, to do a psych evaluation, she just shook her head in amusement, thinking you were joking. “Of course Santa is real, Dr. Y/L/N. Here in Elophtron, Santa comes every Christmas with presents!” she had insisted, leaving you baffled. This town was absolutely bonkers, but it was starting to feel like home.

The only thing stopping you from feeling fully content was the fact that your parents were still icing you out and somehow regardless of being only four hours out of sync, Jiho and you had barely communicated this month. You would think you were being ghosted if it weren’t for his sporadic one liners.

You sighed as you looked over the budget for the month, the numbers somehow refusing to add up as you looked at your phone, the Instagram notification lighting it up. You could use a break, so you decide to scroll through your feed, only to stop abruptly at Jiho's new post.

Love my baby so much! Happy four months, beautiful.

It was a cute caption, if it weren't for the fact that you and Jiho had been dating for over four years, your anniversary was in March, and that he was kissing a stunning blond that you didn't recognize in the picture.

You looked at the picture again, closing the app and starting it again, just in case it was a glitch. Nope, apparently, Jiho had broken up with you and forgot to tell you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes, but they weren't because of sadness. Oh no, you were furious. No wonder that fucker was so excited about your move.

You let out a huge groan, throwing your phone across the room, as you stood up and kicked your desk, tears now freely flowing. You couldn't believe the nerve. You hadn't expected this from him. In fact, much like a loser, you were expecting him to propose at Christmas. You thought back at how he had told you he loved you and called you beautiful, much like he was now professing to that new girl and it made your stomach twist. You wanted to break stuff. No, correction, you wanted to break his face.

You didn't realize you were rage pacing until Seokjin appeared in the doorframe, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" he asked, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing. In the past month, Seokjin had gotten surprisingly good at reading your moods. It was like he could see a slight change in your micro-expressions and be able to tell whether you need a coffee, a hug, or a walk. You were truly grateful for him, but at this moment you were afraid you were going to take out your anger on him so you tried to calm down. Stopping your pacing, you plastered a smile on your face.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Don't worry. Why are you still here?" Seokjin, however, didn't buy your flimsy excuse and pulled you in a hug. You felt yourself instantly calm. It was oddly intimate. He had hugged you before, but never like this. His arms were tight around your frame as your face met his chest, enveloping you in his vanilla scent. Your attraction to Seokjin had faded slowly over time, but right now as he tightened his grip around you in an effort to comfort you, your heart skipped a beat.

With your rage fast diminishing, all you had left was your heartbreak as you slowly started to cry in his chest. He didn't question you. His usually talkative personality, giving way to an understanding silence as he slowly rubbed your back.

When it seemed that you had calmed down, Seokjin pulled away, looking at you with concern. Without asking you for details, he suggested going on a drive. You accepted, knowing that if you just went home all you would do is wallow. You let him drive you to a burger joint, picking up your favorites, before getting back in his truck. The two of you drove for what seemed a long time, the food getting cold as soft pop music played in the background.

He never once pushed you to talk, letting you take in the trees lining the highway, as you watched the snow glittering in the moonlight on the banks. Finally, he stopped the truck, getting out before opening the door for you, taking your hand as you stepped down from the height.

The view blew you away. He had driven you to a field of sorts, getting the back of his truck ready with some blankets. But it wasn't the pine-lined field that took your breath away, it was the sky. Above you the navy hues of the night were alight in colour, pinks and greens blooming like waves in the sea. Stars prickled through occasionally as the weave of colours danced slowly, mesmerizing you. You don't know how long you stared at it in awe, but when you turned around, he was already sitting on the back of the truck, under a blanket, your food being taken out of bags.

He speaks for the first time when you settle next to him.

"You want to talk now?"

"I don't know." You shrug, rattling the ice in your cup as you swirl around your drink.

"It's okay if you don't want to. Just... do you need to go back?" He seemed hesitant, almost disappointed, as he asked. It was endearing how much he cared about the town not being left without a doctor.

"No. Definitely not." You said firmly, staring at the sky, missing the way he smiled at you in relief. The last thing you wanted to do right now was go back to Manhattan so your parents could tell you how you failed and accidentally run into Jiho and his blonde. Hoping to deflect the conversation, you looked at Seokjin, his cheeks puffed as he took a big bite of his burger. "Seokjin, can you tell me something about yourself?"

"What do you want to know?" He says, sipping his drink.

"I don't know. Anything."

"Hmm... well I'm a nurse and I’m the most handsome man in the world." He laughed, clapping his hands slowly as if applauding his own wit. You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the smile that made its way to your lips.

"Oh my god, you dork! Tell me something real. Tell me a secret." You bumped him with your shoulder.

"If I tell you a secret, will you tell me what's wrong?" You hummed, eyes wide in anticipation as you munched on your cold fries. "Well. I secretly kind of hate this small-town life."

His answer shocked you. In the month you’ve known Seokjin, he has been this little town’s biggest fan. With the number of people who greet him, and routinely give him presents, you don’t doubt he could easily be elected mayor. In fact, the chief of police even suggested using him as the town’s mascot, for crying out loud. 

“If you hate it why are you here?”

“Did you know I lived in San Francisco for ten years till last year?” You did not. You couldn’t imagine Seokjin amongst those tech snobs, nor could you imagine him in anything not flannel. “Yeah. I loved it. I worked at this amazing hospital and went out to all these clubs. I was kind of a party animal.” He chuckled, looking at his lap fondly as he picked at the blanket.

“Why come back?”

“Well… my family established this town. We were the first ones here and well I promised my dad when he died that I’d help continue the little traditions in this town.” He shrugged, his mouth a lopsided smile. “Promised him I’d raise my kids here. Family comes before fun.”

“That’s… wow. You must really respect your dad, enough to change your life for him,” you spoke softly, leaning into his lap a little to place your hand over his. “It must have been hard to lose him.”

“It was, but I hope I’m making him proud.” He gave you a genuine smile as he squeezed your hand, before tapping it. “Now enough about my emo self! Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

And so you did. You spent probably three hours out in the cold, before calling it a night. You told him about Jiho and how he broke your heart, and he related by telling you about his own ex that had broken their engagement when he suggested the relocation. Spending time with Seokjin was comfortable, it was easy. There was something about him that warms you up, like hot chocolate on a snowy night.

You hadn’t been that vulnerable around anyone in a while. Your life in New York was calculated, you never knew who you could trust, and so you trusted no one. It felt oddly freeing to be able to talk about your heartbreak and insecurities with Seokjin, and after that night under the aurora borealis, you both became closer. Before, you would only see each other at work, but since then you had been hanging out outside of work a lot. Sometimes the two of you would grab dinner at the local diner, or he would pick you up for working, grabbing coffee and flirting with Doris shamelessly for freebies. The more you spent time with Seokjin, the more you realized how different he was from what you had assumed.

When you first got to know Seokjin, you thought he was hardworking and amiable, but now you knew his dorky side. The side that would come up after a glass of wine, when he would start cracking lame dad jokes, clapping his hands, and laughing at himself. The side that got especially shy, ears turning a bright red, every time you complimented him on anything, be it his work ethic, or a nice new shirt he bought. The side that would go on and on about the Mario universe, regaling you with details about why Wario was misunderstood, or why the movie should only be watched when wasted otherwise it was a waste.

To be honest, you never knew there was even a Mario movie, and when you told him such he gasped loudly, grabbing you by your shoulders and excitedly making plans to watch it together. You wouldn't tell anyone but with your newfound friendship with Seokjin, he had also gotten very comfortable touching you. Maybe it was the aftereffect of being so vulnerable around him that one time or the fact that you were trying to get over Jiho, but every time he pulled you into a hug or brushed past you it made your heart skip a beat. You controlled the flush slowly creeping up your neck, as you shrugged his hands off your shoulders and solidified your plans to watch the movie together.

True to his word, Seokjin showed up at your house with a case of beers, a local microbrew full of hops that made your tongue sing. Halfway through the movie, you had no idea what was happening, Mario and Luigi, who had terribly fake accents, by the way, jumping through trying to save the damsel in distress in what looked like an acid trip. The alcohol didn't help as the plot got more convoluted, but that didn't stop Seokjin from excitedly trying to help you decipher it.

You don't know when it happened, but his arm was around you, casually draped where your head met the couch, his fingers lightly caressing your shoulder as he sipped his beer. You took another sip of yours trying to calm yourself. No matter how many times you tried to focus on the colours exploding on the screen, all you could think about was your hammering heart as your skin heated up under his innocent touch. It wasn't when he abruptly pulled his arm away from you that you were broken out of reverie.

"So what did you think?" He asked excitedly, turning on the couch towards you, a leg moving up and under his other. You hadn't even realized the movie ended. Did they save the princess? Or was it their business they were trying to save? What was this movie even about?

"Um... it was something," you commented, hoping that the vague answer would satisfy him, as you chugged the rest of your beer.

"It's cause you're not drunk enough! Y/N! I told you, you had to get wasted to like this movie!" He whined, clumsily opening another bottle and handing it to you. You weren't drunk, he was right. You were on the right side of tipsy, just on the edge of jumping into oblivion. Seokjin on the other hand, seemed much more ahead of you as he struggled with the bottle opener.

Chuckling, you reached out and put your hands over his, helping him uncap his bottle. You didn't notice how close you had gotten until he whispered thanks and his breath ghosted the skin of your nose. Looking up, your breath hitched as you saw the look in his eyes. Usually filled with mirth, it was jarring to see him looking at you with want, his long dark hair falling into his eyes as they traced your features. You saw his eyes linger on your lips and all you could do was blink. You knew you should move away, he was coworker and friend, but you froze, the two of you lost in the silence.

He made the first move, bringing his hand to your face tentatively. You leaned into it, sighing a little, and that's when you felt his lips on yours. Soft, plush lips that you had imagined more than a few times this past month, molded around yours. The kiss was shy, a little soft as his thumb caressed your flushing cheek. Your hands still on top of his on the beer tightened as you deepened the kiss, and he followed, grunting slightly, his hand moving to the back of your head, angling it a little. You mewled when his tongue licked at your lip, granting him access as it roamed your mouth, easily taking charge as your heart exploded within your chest. You hadn't been kissed like this before, the balance of gentle and domineering, making your knees weak. You were glad you were seated because otherwise, you'd be on the floor.

You don't know how long you were kissing, but the spell was broken as his phone rang, making him pull away abruptly, lips swollen and face red. It took everything in you to not go in for seconds as your mouth followed his. He didn't oblige you though, as he pulled away, resting his hand on your waist as he reached for his phone.

"It's my mom. I'm sorry," he apologized with a pout that did not help how you were feeling. Finding it hard to speak, you simply nodded as if in a daze. His wide, grateful smile made you turn to putty as he answered, only to frown. Quickly ending the call, he grabbed your face and kissed you again, hard but quick, taking your breath away.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry." He looked at you, his forehead pressed against yours, as you blinked. Standing up from the couch, you straightened your t-shirt, as you walked him to the door. He stopped in front of it, his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, making you smile. You felt like a teenager who got to kiss their crush, it was bizarre. Pecking your lips a few times, he bid you goodbye, waving as he walked off, leaving his truck in your driveway.

Shutting the door, you giggled giddily, forgetting all about your earlier worries of maintaining a professional decorum, as your fingertips grazed your lips, still feeling the touch of his lips. That night he messaged you just once, and you reread the text over and over as you fell asleep.

Thanks for watching that stupid movie with me tonight. Can't wait to continue where we left off ;)

The next day you were extremely excited to go to work, changing your outfit multiple times before settling on a pretty pastel pink dress and leaving your apartment, noticing the truck was no longer in your driveway. Stopping by to grab a cup of coffee, you greeted Doris.

“Hi Doc! Happy last day to send Santa a letter!” she chirped as he poured your order. You shook your head in amusement. This was by far the weirdest aspect of this town. They were all so obsessed with Christmas, grown adults refusing to talk about how Santa doesn’t exist. It would be endearing, charming in a way if it weren’t for the fact that Bean There was the location where they collected these letters to Santa, and it was full of people scrambling to write. You would think it would be mostly kids, but you could spot Mr. Hernandez, a sixty year old retired lumberjack, scribbling away, as well as Molly, the recent college graduate. It seemed the town had no age limit when it came to believing in Christmas miracles. 

“Doris, I don’t know what’s in the air here, but you guys know Santa isn’t real right?” you whispered, not wanting to incite a full out riot, like you accidentally did when you first moved and made the same comment. Either this town was very much into the spirit of things or you were just too late to catch up to the mass group hysteria everyone seemed to be a part of.

“Y/N! You just have to believe, hon. I’m telling you every year, whatever you write on those letters comes through. I mean you can’t ask Santa for love or anything but anything material comes! Always. How else do you explain that?” You frowned as she pushed your coffee towards you. Sure, you didn’t have a logical explanation for that but that doesn’t mean Santa was real. However, you were in a great mood this morning, looking forward to seeing Seokjin, and so you acquiesced to Doris when she waved a piece of paper, writing the first thing that came to your head which was a snowglobe, since the shelves behind the counter was lined with about a thousand. You could use a cute one to put on your desk, if Santa was in fact real.

When you walked into the hospital, coffee in hand and pep in your step, you looked around for the familiar mop of dark hair, half expecting a ho ho ho, or some cheerful Christmas pun Seokjin usually pulled out in the morning, but you were met with an empty lobby. Even his office was empty. It was odd. He was usually the first one in after you. 

Walking into your office you felt your earlier excitement twist into nerves. What if he regretted last night? What if he thought you were unprofessional? But he had texted you, surely he couldn’t regret it too much, could he? Oh! He was so drunk last night. He probably regrets it and now finds it awkward to be around you. Technically he was your subordinate, so were you now one of those creepy bosses they show on television? Inviting your employees to your house to get them drunk and make them kiss you? This was bad. Your thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to focus on today’s schedule in front of you, before, thankfully, Jenny broke through them.

“Hey Y/N. I’ll be taking over Seokjin’s workload while he’s on vacation. Is there anything in particular you need help with today? Otherwise I’m just gonna follow the notes he left behind.” 

“Vacation?” you stammered, clearing your throat and taking another sip of your drink.

“Yeah. He takes the ten days before Christmas off every year. Something about a family obligation.” She shrugged.

“Oh. He didn’t tell me.” You tried your best to not sound disappointed.

“It’s been on the calendar for years, doc.” Jenny chuckled as she walked out of your office, leaving you confused as you went to check the employee calendar and lo and behold, there it was ‘Kim Seokjin on vacation’, staring at you. You were annoyed. You expected at least some notice. Did he think he could just kiss you and then go off to wherever he was. Fuming, you opened your phone to text him.

So when were you going to tell me you were away for the rest of the month?

You waited a few minutes, staring at the screen, but when the message still showed unread you gave up and did what you do best when people piss you off. You worked. And you continued working for the whole week, till you were fed up with Seokjin. He had seemed so caring and then to ghost you out of nowhere? Sure, you can expect that perhaps his vacation slipped his mind, but did he suddenly lose his fingers? He couldn’t do you the courtesy of sending a text when you had left on what you thought were nothing but good terms? “Continue where we left off”, your ass.

------------

It was two days to Christmas and you were bored. You parents had decided that since you were away, they were going to go on a cruise. Sick of scrolling endlessly through social media, envying your friends, you decided to take a walk to the only place open 24 hours in this town, the diner. It was 2 am and you didn’t think you would see anyone other than Mark, the friendly twenty-year old whose family owned the place.

You were enjoying your plate of fries, and a milkshake when the little bell above the door grabbed your attention off your phone and in walked the last person you expected to see - Kim Seokjin. He was dressed casually as always, his black parka over a white hooded sweater and dark jeans. It didn’t seem like he noticed you, waltzing over to the register to order a coffee as he sat on a stool, waiting for the fresh pot to brew.

Seeing his face, made you stupidly angry. You knew rationally that he didn’t owe you anything, you were just friends. Friends who shared a pretty nice kiss, but you were friends, you had no claim over him, but you still found yourself fuming and getting up from your booth to march over to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spoke in a normal volume, but Seokjin jumped high, his eyes widening as he put his hand on his chest, staring at you.

“Y/N! Um… what are you doing here so late?” He asked, his eyes shifting around, looking anywhere but at you.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” You crossed your arms, wanting answers.

“I can explain! I swear it is not what you think!” He jumped up from the stool, arms in front of him as he tried fruitlessly to calm you down.

“What is it, then? Did you lose your phone? Did you lose your head?” You scoffed, fully knowing that your comeback was far from witty, but you could barely think, indignation mapped onto your features.

“It’s not that… it’s just… I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t even know if I can.” He rubbed the back of his head, his ears turning red, as they usually did when he was embarrassed. Seeing his demeanour suddenly made the pieces click in your head. There was only one reason people ghosted each other. It was a rejection. You felt your face heat up at the realization, feeling like you were going to cry. Oh, this was bad. You couldn’t believe you were about to shed tears over a kiss. You needed to get out of here.

“No need. It’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can take a hint.” You said quickly, your voice seemingly calm given the situation as you zipped up your parka and walked out of the diner, ignoring his calls of your name. If he really needed to explain himself, he could have followed you, but you walked the ten minutes to your apartment alone, burying yourself under the covers once inside. You didn’t realize that unwittingly you had been thinking about your future with Seokjin, picturing dates and waking up together when all he had been doing was figuring out a way to gently let you down. You decided to let yourself feel the sting, dampening your pillow cases, finding that somehow this hurt more than what Jiho did. Who knew the kind, wholesome small town boy could hurt you worse than a cold lawyer from New York?

----------

Having no close friends yet in town and not wanting to burden the nice people who invited you to their homes, you decided to pretend that you were going to New York over the holidays. You stocked up on enough groceries to get you through the New Years and decided to hide out in your apartment. You spent your time cleaning your apartment, doing skincare, reading the latest medical journals, and binging the Crown on Netflix. 

On Christmas morning, you decided to treat yourself for brunch, making an obscenely large stack of pancakes, piling it high with fruit and chocolate chips, and drowning it in maple syrup. Foregoing dressing up, you sat on your living room floor in your festive pajamas as you watched the political ongoing of the royal family, and enjoyed your sugar loaded creation. However, before you could truly dig into your pancakes, you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

You didn’t know who would be knocking at your door this early and on Christmas. You weren’t expecting anyone and everyone knew you were supposed to be out of town. Sighing you begrudgingly rise as the tempo of the knocks increased. Huffing you opened the door to be greeted by none other than Kim Seokjin, dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you had the misfortune of seeing and jeans, with a campy Santa hat atop his dark hair. The forest green Christmas sweater, adorned with a stuffed Rudolph and what seemed like real mistletoe, also apparently lit up, the twinkling red and green lights on it glowed in the morning sun as little flurries collected in Seokjin’s hair. 

Regardless of the terrible wardrobe choice, you couldn’t deny the sudden pull you felt towards him, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him on your doorstep with a small box wrapped in shiny paper. However, you were nothing if not determined, so you schooled your initial wide eyed expression into a glare as you crossed your arms across your chest and leaned into the door frame.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to give you your present.” Seokjin smiled as he brought the gift towards you, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Seokjin, I don’t want you or your presents.”

“Not gonna lie, that kind of hurts.” He scratches the back of his head nervously, sending his hat askew as he sways a little on his feet, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good,” you say as you move to close the door on his face. Not going to lie, you were pretty proud of your resolve. Before you could fully shut the door, Seokjin put his hand out to stop it, jumping a little when he saw the cold look in your eye. Stepping back sheepishly, he cleared his throat.

“Please Y/N. Just let me explain.”

“Go ahead.” Still holding the door half closed, you stared at him, your resolve melting as he seemingly shivered outside.

“Can I at least come in? It’s kind of cold.” You rolled your eyes again, and acquiesced. Not because you wanted to hear him or be near him, but because he looked kind of pitiful shaking in the cold in a sweater that didn’t seem built for the Alaskan winter. Stepping aside you let him in your hallway, leaning against the wall, your patience at an all time low.  “Okay. So… um… how do I even start this?”

“Seokjin. Just say you don’t like me and go. It’s Christmas. The least you can do is be straightforward.” His stammering was infuriating. It made you want to kick him. However, as the words came out of your mouth, Seokjin looked shocked, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his bangs as his mouth flew open. It was a pretty funny sight, and if you were less angry you would’ve chuckled.

“Why do you think I don’t like you? What?”

“Hmm… Let’s see you got drunk, you kissed me and then you disappeared! Like poof!” You gestured in the air with your hand, trying to make the point more apparent.

“Well that’s what I am trying to explain!” And now he was gesturing, his hand with the box rising in the air.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“Just open this. It will help start my explanation.” He took your hand in his and placed the box on top of it. You eyed him suspiciously as you began to unwrap the iridescent paper. Inside the box was a snowglobe, the scene inside showing a field full of flowers with a small truck with two people on the hood. When you shook it, it came alive with glitter and tiny styrofoam flurries. It was very cute and very reminiscent of the night Seokjin and you first became friends. You loved it, but it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t petty enough to hide your true emotions to look at him with disdain.

“A snowglobe? Okay? So?”

“Don’t you wanna know how I knew you wanted this?” He spoke slow, his words and spaced out as he frowned at your scowl.

“I didn’t want this?” You matched his slow pace, enunciating each word as you raised an eyebrow in question. Why did he think you would want a snowglobe of all things? I mean he knew what you really wanted was those cupcakes that Doris only made once a month, you had told him how much you adored them on more than one occasion. If he wanted to be all romantic he could have at least bribed her for some of those!

“But… you asked Santa for it!” he sputtered, jogging your memory to remind you of the throwaway wish you made in the letter to Santa a few days ago.

“So you steal mail now? That’s a federal offence, you know.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No! No no no. I don’t steal mail. Unless it’s snail mail because it’s easy to catch.” He laughed at his own joke, but seeing your deadpan expression, he backpedaled, nervously running his hands through his hair again. “No? Okay, bad joke. But I didn’t steal it. You sent it to me! I’m Santa!” He was talking more with his hands than his words, waving them around in the air.

“Your excuse is that you’re Santa? How old do you think I am?” you scoffed, moving to push him out of the door, ignoring how solid his bicep felt under that ugly sweater. How was he not getting electrocuted by those stupid lights?

“No please don’t kick me out! I’m telling the truth!” Seokjin planted his feet in the ground turning around and looking at you with wide eyes, the cinnamon depths softening your anger as you sighed. This was so far fetched, the least you could do was hear him out. If nothing else, this would make a great story to share over drinks sometime.

“You have five minutes. And I’m eating my pancakes while you talk.” You let go of him as you walked into your living room, Seokjin close on your heels. You sat on the floor next to the coffee table and he followed suit, sitting much too close to comfort, his thigh grazing yours as he stared at your pile of sugar.

“Oh. Can I have some?” he asked, clearing his throat at your glare as you aggressively cut into a piece before stuffing your face. The nerve... “Sorry! Okay um… so did you think it was weird that the whole town just happened to believe in Santa?”

“I honestly was going to write a paper on mass hysteria, but yes.” You were much more interested now. You always did find the town's dedication to upholding the sanctity of Santa bizarre.

“Well, that’s because for almost a hundred years, people in this town have been getting what they wanted for Christmas, without fail.”

“Because you’re Santa?” You looked at him, waiting for him to explain only to be met with a soft smile as he nodded. His cheeks puffed up with his little smile and it took all of your willpower not to poke at them. Why did he have to be so cute when you were trying to be mad at him. Also, what grown man insists they're Santa? “So where are your elves? Is Rudolph just hiding in your truck?”

“I’ll have you know I’m an elf-made man!” He joked, his pun making you lose control as you let out a light laugh before remembering you were supposed to be mad and trying to hold a neutral expression. Seokjin, on the other hand, made no such effort, a wide grin adorning his features, making his eyes disappear beneath his squishy cheeks. “Hey got you to laugh! But no. No elves. Just me, well, and my family. It’s the family tradition I was talking about. For generations the Kims have been sending people in this town presents on Christmas in secret.”

“Wait how do you even afford this?” This made no sense. How was he buying these expensive presents, and also Santa was Korean? How did his family even hide this for so long? Why were these town people naive enough to believe this? How did he do deliveries? Did he work with Amazon? You had so many questions!

“Um… I’m kind of rich?” he replied sheepishly.

“Kind of? You give 2,000 presents a year!” Your pancakes were forgotten as you swiveled around to face him, your knees touching his thigh, momentarily distracting him as his eyes dropped to where you touched him, before following suit and facing you. The two of you sat cross-legged across from each other as he started what may have been the most useless and longest rant he embarked on since entering your home, talking animatedly as always.

“Yeah… but that’s not the point! The point is the days leading up to Christmas are really hard and this year I had to figure out how to make the drones work and this kid wanted an exact replica of Han Solo’s gun and those are really hard to find and then Mr. Hernadez decided he wanted a rare Amazonian flower. Like where am I supposed to find a flower in December?! And don’t get me started on Doris she-”

“Seokjin. Relax. So you ghosted me because you’re Santa?” You placed your hands on his knees to get him to calm down as his face seemed so red from his rant you were worried you would have to resuscitate him if he didn't take a breath soon. He calmed down exponentially, taking a deep breath and locking his eyes with yours.

“Yeah, and I couldn’t tell you and if I did tell you, you wouldn’t believe me till today anyway. And just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, placing his hand on top of yours on his knee as he held eye contact, and it seemed like you may forever get lost in his irises. He looked at you with such a sorrowful expression, that you weren't sure if the pout of his lips was exaggerated for effect or if it came naturally to him.

“I don’t know what to say… I kind of have regrets” You bit your lip as you gazed back at him with mischief.

“You do? I… I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about the fact that you might not like me back. Oh. I’m an idiot. Okay. I will see you at work. Happy holidays!” He spoke in flurried words as he tried to stand up before you stopped him mid-rise.

“Seokjin wait! That’s not the regret.” You were quick to stop him as he sank back down, a confused look on his face.

“It’s not?”

“No. I regret only asking Santa for a snowglobe! I should’ve asked for a car!” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh sure! What kind? I can get you a car.” He did not miss a beat before picking up his phone and scrolling through what you could only imagine being his gift list. Wait, were the Kims part of the mafia? You really should ask him where he gets all this money from someday. Nurses get paid pretty terribly, so it's definitely not that.

“Seokjin. I was kidding!”

“Oh. I knew that.” He put his phone down as he looked at you, blinking slowly a few times.

“So you like me.” You ask, leaning in slightly with a smirk.

“Yes.” He answered resoundingly, a determined look on his face as he leaned in as well. The two of you only a hair breadth apart.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You whisper, not wanting to break the sudden shift in the atmosphere, as you looked at his plush lips, before meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” His voice was lower, a little strained as he looked at you, his eyes jumping from each feature before settling on your lips.

“Yes.”

“Then come sit in Santa’s lap.” He leaned back, patting his lap with a smirk, making you blanch as you pull a disgusted face.

“Okay. I changed my mind.” You leaned back, before he came closer, his hands cupping your face.

“No no! Sorry! I just have always wanted to use Santa puns and you’re the only one outside of my family who knows and I don’t kn-” You cut off his rambling with a kiss, a soft, quick one on his lips that made his breath hitch. He recoiled a little in shock, staring at you before pulling your face to his and crashing your lips together.

This kiss was neither soft, nor short, but a flurry of emotions as you both tried to express what you couldn't in words. His lips were firm against yours as his hands moved down your body to pull you closer by the waist. A soft groan left his lips as you parted yours and he wasted no time starting to explore your mouth, his tongue meeting yours. His plush lips moulded against yours and you couldn’t help the moans that fell out of your mouth. You had missed his mouth against yours, the feeling as refreshing as the crisp sun after a blizzard. He tasted like coffee and you sucked at his tongue with fervour, eliciting a shocked moan from him as his hands left your waist to find your ass, gripping it harshly to pull you into his lap. You wasted no time straddling him, as you grind your core against him, making him groan. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled apart to catch his breath. Staring down at your heaving chest, he traced his hands on your hips, before breaking into a smirk. Gone was the rambling man from earlier, his eyes clouded with lust as he took you in. He leaned closer, his lips on your neck as he kissed from your collarbone peaking through your thin pajama top to your ear.

“Now that you’re finally in Santa’s lap, tell him what you want for Christmas.” He whispered, nipping at your earlobe. Wow, he really was not going to let this go. You groaned in annoyance, cupping his face to pull him away from your ear to face you, ignoring the pout on his face.

“For you to shut up.” You kissed him, tilting his head slightly to give you access, before he pulled away, shaking your hands off his face till they rested on his broad shoulders.

“Come on! Let me have this!” He whined, his pout bigger as he looked at you with puppy eyes. You chuckled at his antics, shaking your head as you leaned in for another kiss, missing the taste of his lips already. His hands moved from your hips to the hem of your shirt, slowly moving up under it, tracing over your ribs, just below the swell of your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

Moaning gently, but not one to be outdone, you mirrored his movements, moving your hands down his built chest, feeling the soft material, and groaning in annoyance as you reached the stupid stuffed toy stitched to the centre. You reached the bottom of his sweater, but before you reached under it you pulled away, Seokjin chasing your lips.

“Will this dumb sweater shock me if I put my hands under it?” You huffed and played with the hem of his sweater as he smiled goofily, as if realizing he was wearing it for the first time. The goofy smile didn’t last for long as he moved his hands to cup your chest, massaging gently as he leaned in kissing your sternum, visible from the top button that had somehow loosened during your makeout. 

“The only shock you’ll get is how loud you’ll be screaming my name when you cum.” He pulled on your nipples, making you mewl as you involuntarily arched your back, rolling your hips on his. You felt breathless, and you couldn’t believe his stupid wordplay was making you this wet.

“Big talk for someone whining about Christmas puns.” You moaned out as he tugged harder on your nipples in reprimand, his hands pushing against the fabric, as he bit the sensitive skin of your neck. Forgetting your earlier concerns, your hands go under his shirt, feeling his soft skin, the tiny hair on his abs tickling your fingertip, as you push the sweater as high it would go revealing his golden skin.

“Yule be sorry for doubting me.” He finally gives your sore nipples a rest, as his hands move to pull his sweater off, momentarily getting tangled up in, making you chuckle, which he mistakes for praise aimed at his puns, wiggling his eyebrows as he emerges from the monstrosity. If you weren’t so whipped for him, you would have made him leave. You didn’t know if this was a one off, if he really wanted things to progress or he just wanted sex but all thoughts fell out of your head as his lips reattached to your neck, his hands on your hips making you grind against him as the two of you made out like teenagers at prom.

“I will literally murder you if you make another pun.” You moaned out, losing yourself in his touch, his lips leaving behind blooms on your skin. If he kept moving your hips like this you were going to cum. You grabbed on to his hair as you moaned at the sensation your body lit as your clit grazed his length through the layers of clothing. Your legs shook as the feeling in your stomach tightened and Seokjin chuckled against your neck.

“Yeah murder me with that pussy.” You could feel his grin but all your annoyance was forgotten as you felt yourself let go, mewling his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your grip on his hair tightening. 

He kissed you as you came down from your high, his erection solid against you as his tongue explored your mouth. When he pulled away he looked almost crazed, the lust in his half lidded gaze mirroring yours as his hands moved to your top, slowly unbuttoning it. “Fuck that was so hot. Let me unwrap you, baby.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows again as he looked at you. How could this man be this sexy and this dorky was beyond you. Wanting to see him writhe over you, you started kissing his neck, moving to his chest, leaning him back as you inched closer to the waistband of his jeans.

“You first!” You exclaimed, wasting no time to unbutton his jeans as he sighed in relief, moving to remove them completely before you reached for his boxers. You were a little taken aback when his cock popped out. It was bigger than you thought, head red as a bead of precum glistened in the late morning sun pouring in from your windows. Your mouth watered at the sight and without thinking you licked up his length, his groans egging you on as you bent over him.

“Shit so perfect! So good to me,” he moaned out as you looked at him. His head lolled back as he leaned against his hands behind him, his wide chest rising heavily due to your ministrations. He let out a loud moan, resembling almost a whine, as you wrapped your mouth around his head, sucking softly. You loved that moan, wanted more of it as you took him deeper, his hand coming to rest on your hair. He panted loudly, his moans filling your room, your mind, as you gazed at him looking at you with awe. “This look soots you.”

He really had to make another dumbass joke, didn’t he? You pulled off his length, sitting back as your hand replaced your mouth, slowly stroking him as you scowled at him. God, you wanted him to beg you so bad.

“That better be suit with a u-i or I swear I’m not gonna let you cum.” You gripped him harder, twisting your wrist as your panties get wetter with power. He mewled a little, twitching in your hand as you grinned. His head lolled to the side and suddenly he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with challenge as your words finally processed in his mind. 

Before you could react, he was on you. One hand gripping your wrist and other behind your head as he leaned you over till your back was on the cold hardwood floor and he hovered over you. He smirked at you before he leaned in to kiss you sloppily, making you lose all senses.

“Aw sweetheart, it’s cute you think you’re in charge.” He cooed, as his forearms trapped your head, his kisses becoming softer, reminiscent of the first time he kissed you a week ago. He took his time, his weight a comforting presence on top of you as you melted into the floor. He looked at you with adoration when you broke apart, his nose touching yours and a soft smile on his face.  

“But seriously, Y/N. I didn’t come here for this. I want this so bad but I want to take you out, I want to hold your hand, drink a milkshake with two straws together. I don’t know! I wanna spoil you!” His voice was low, but his words were fast, like he just couldn’t hold them in any longer. You giggled in disbelief, caressing his back. This man really was going to be the death of you.

“Seokjin you’re naked and you want to hold my hand?” you chuckled as he nodded, his eyes glinting and smiling wide. He reached out to hold your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly, an oddly saccharine contrast to the way he was devouring you moments ago.

“I mean I also want to rail you hard, but yeah I don’t want it to be just sex.” You felt your heart flutter at his words, your face heating up more than it already was and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Me neither.” Your grip on his hand tightened and his cock twitched against your thigh, bringing your lust back to the forefront of your mind as you kissed him again, much more hungrier this time. “So come on get on with it. Choo choo!”

He leaned away looking at you with wide eyed surprise before breaking into a shit eating grin.

“Was that a rail- fuck! You’re perfect!” He gushed as he kissed his way down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went. He lapped at your nipples, hardening them under his tongue as his hand pulled your pajama shorts off, your panties following quickly after. You wanted to throw another quick witted remark at him, but all thoughts disappeared at his sudden enthusiasm as his mouth made its way to your core. He began to kiss down your slit, light feathery kisses that had you desperate for more, mewling as he continued.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, it’s really taken a mistletoe-ll on me.” He grinned, his breath warm against your folds. Your retort was forgotten when he slid his tongue inside you, flicking against your sensitive walls before he was sucking at your clit. The pleasure was unbearable and you shook under him, thanking yourself for forgoing carpeting the floors. He put his arm over your hips to hold you down as you chanted his name. You were dripping, your heart beating loudly in your chest as he ate you like a man starved, pushing you closer and closer to your high. You walls clenched around his tongue as you moaned louder, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer. 

“I’m so close!” you whined expecting Seokjin to speed up to guide you through your high. He, however, slowed down, the pressure in your belly ebbing slowly away as you whined his name. “Why did you stop?!”

“Tell me my puns are funny.” He looked up at you grinning as you yelped when two fingers entered you. His fingers curled inside you making your back arch as you moaned his name. “Come on admit it, Dr. Y/L/N”

“No… they’re… stupid...” you breathed out as his pace increased and decreased keeping you firmly on the edge, your walls fluttering, your eyes squeezed shut as you refused to beg. He kept up his taunting till you thought you would lose your mind, every nerve in your body on fire as your legs quivered. He was insane! Not being able to take it anymore, you conceded. “Fuck… please! Please Seokjin! Your puns are hilarious. I give! Please…” 

“Good girl. Knew you were on the nice list.” he exclaimed as his mouth latched on to your clit and before you knew it you were screaming, your body shaking as you had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, your arousal gushing out of you as Seokjin gleefully lapped it up. You felt a buzzing in your ears, your vision spotty as he coaxed you slowly through your high.

Seokjin kissed his way up your trembling body, and slotting his mouth against yours, he caressed your sides as you tried to catch your breath. When you opened your eyes he was smiling at you, lying next to you on the floor.

“Told you not to doubt me, baby,” he said lowly as his nose bumped yours gently.

“No pun this time?”

“I was gonna say mistletoe-ld but I already used that one.” He grinned.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, facepalming. “Why do I still want to fuck you?”

“Because I’m a sex god.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You stood up, a little shakily, at his comment, looking down at his alarmed face before walking away to your bedroom. Before you reached the door, you looked back at him. Seokjin was still in the same position, looking at you dumbfounded, probably wondering what he did wrong. You rolled your eyes at him as you gestured towards your room.

“Come on Santa, don’t you wanna climb up my chimney?” You laughed at the speed he stood up, his hard erection bouncing funnily as he ran towards you with a dopey smile, placing his arms around you in a back hug as you walked into your room.

“Stop being funny or I’ll fall in love with you,” he whined, rutting against you petulantly, making you giggle. You guided him to your bed, making him sit with his back to the headboard as you grabbed a condom from your bedside table, stroking him to gently roll it over his length. His breath hitched as you climbed over him, your knees on the bed next to his thighs. Seemingly unable to wait anymore, he put his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hungry kiss, a flurry of tongue and teeth.

You rise, your hands on his shoulders as you slowly descend on his, his girth a soothing pain as your walls stretch around him. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths as you stare at each other, face red and eyes blown from lust. For the first time, there was silence between the two of you, your staredown intense as you slowly started riding him. It felt delicious and it took all of your strength not to close your eyes in pleasure.

Your pace increased as Seokjin’s hands were placed firmly on your hips, pulling your hips higher so he could thrust into you. You kissed him at that, no longer able to take his intense stare and he groaned, increasing his speed. His cock rammed into you and you saw stars, clinging on his shoulders as waves of pleasure flowed through you. He kisses and bites your neck, his lips leaving blooms of petals in their trail, as his movements become sloppy. 

He leans back a little, grabbing your hand to guide it to your clit, rubbing your fingers on it. The added friction to your bud paired with his wild thrusts has you coming undone in seconds. Your toes curl as his name stretches around your moan and you still in his arms, your vision hazy. He cums shortly after, thrusting in you a few times chanting your name before falling lax against the headboard, pulling you against him.

The two of you sat there for a while, till he softened enough to slip out of you, the feeling sending shudders through the two of you. Placing a hand on your chin, he brought your lips to his, before looking at you with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling.

“So… Merry Christmas?” He shrugged making you giggle, as you rolled off him and sat next to him.

“Who knew I’d be a ho ho ho for Santa?” Seokjin laughed, clapping as he squealed with glee, before calming down enough to put his arms around you, cuddling you close, and grabbing one of your hands in his. He played with your fingers as he smiled.

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. I promise I’ll never do that again.” He kissed your temple, tightening his arms around you.

“It’s okay. You made up for it.”

The two of you spend Christmas morning together. You made more pancakes, dressed in only his horrendous sweater as he belted out Mariah Carey in his underwear. Your heart swelled when he placed gentle kisses on your shoulder as the two of you swayed to the music, barefoot on the kitchen floor. You knew you made the right decision when you moved to Alaska, it just took you this moment to realize how right.

----

I hope you liked this fluffy Christmasy piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me Chapter 4: The Andrew Curtis Case

Guys I am so sorry this took so long. On top of school kicking my ass, I had to rewrite and reedit this chapter several times until I got to one that I deemed worthy. I am going to try and post Chapter Five early for you guys if I can. 

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Rape, Abuse

Masterlist 

Spencer glanced around the room at all the police officers assembled. He cleared his throat. 

“The Unsub is a white male in his late 20s to mid-30s. He is a man with an average build and a friendly face, someone who women would not pose as a threat.”

“Since there were no signs of forced entry, we believe he’s posing as someone who women would let into their house. Classic cases of this include maintenance men there to check up on things, someone who needs help after their car broke down, or a similar case like that.” Emily explained. “This is a man who fakes confidence, but in reality views himself as inadequate in some way, he knows he can’t fight off another man, so he chooses women who live alone and are essentially defenseless.” 

“Yet, he hates that they are successful enough to support themselves or that they have any sort of power.” Morgan chimed in.

“He clearly was cheated on or had some sort of marital issue that caused him to spiral into this spree. He is a sexual sadist projecting his partner onto the women he attacks, that’s why he chokes them, watching the life drain from their eyes sparks something in him and gives him a sense of power. That is also why he rapes his victims, he loves the idea that he is all powerful and they are helpless.” Hotch explained. 

Spencer swallowed, “Comparing his last four victims it seems his type is 20-30 year old females with (Y/C/H) and (Y/C/E).” 

Which coincidentally looks like the love of my life. Spencer thought, repressing a shudder.

________________________________________________________________

Spencer starred in shock at the scene around him. He was just finishing up the geographical profile, when they had received a call about yet another body. 

Her empty bulking eyes stared up at the ceiling, her body was beaten, cut, and bruised. 

“Strangulation marks on her neck, multiple stab wounds and injuries, this looks like our unsub.” Emily resisted the urge to shudder. 

“Man, whoever cheated on this guy, must have really broken him.” Morgan mused, looking around at the bloody scribblings on the wall. 

Spencer knew that if they tested the blood on the wall, it would match the victims. He looked at the frames on the wall, trying to ignore the blood that seemed to coat everything. The victim had her diploma hung up and multiple pictures of her smiling with family or friends. Spencer stared hard at the name on the diploma; Adria Winston.

It scared Spencer how easily he could see you in this woman’s place. Injured, dying, pleading for him, for anyone to save you-

“Reid. Reid, are you alright?” Morgan clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, drawing him back to the present. 

Spencer shook himself out of his dazed state. “Yeah, uh I just need to step out for a second.” He said, pushing past Morgan and making his way outside Adria’s house. He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, it was late, so you would most likely be asleep, but-

You picked up on the third ring. “Hi baby, are you alright?” Spencer bit back a smile at the sleepiness in your voice.

“Not really, but I just really needed to hear your voice. How is Ohio?” Spencer asked, trying to distract himself from what he just saw. You could tell, but you played along with it. 

“Not too bad, whoever designed the Google lounge has nothing on me.” You joked. 

“Well, we already knew that.” Spencer smiled. 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe some of the cool stuff I found, I’m telling you if the employees complain about these amazing comfy chairs I got for their break room, I am totally coming back and stealing all 22 of them for my apartment.” You said enthusiastically. “They're perfect for reading in Spence, I’m telling you, you would love them.” 

Spencer let out a little laugh, “I’m sure they are. We will have to see if we can find some, but I don’t think 22 will fit in either of our apartments.” 

“I suppose you’re right” You sighed dramatically, but then took a more serious tone of voice. “Are you alright baby?” 

Spencer’s chest tightened at your worried tone of voice. “There’s a sick selfish part of me that is so glad that you aren’t here (Y/N). All of these girls look so much like you-” Spencer paused, swallowing back tears. “I just am so glad you are safe, I don’t think I could focus as well on this case if I knew you could possibly be in danger.” 

“Aw Spencer, I am so sorry baby. You aren’t sick or selfish for wanting me to be safe, everyone focuses on the safety of those they love, it’s only human. I know you are going to catch this guy, you are the most brilliant man and agent I have ever met. Just don’t tell your team I said that, I don’t want a bad reputation before they even meet me.” You teased, trying to lighten his dark mood. 

Spencer let out a small laugh and sniffled. “Trust me the team is going to love you. We will have to figure out when you can meet them, but I definitely want to wait until things settle down a bit here.” 

There was silence on your end for a second. “Listen Spence, I can stay here a bit longer if it will help you focus, but when I come home I am taking self-defense classes and such. I want you to have a sane mind knowing that your girlfriend actually can handle herself. I honestly think it will help me keep sane too, after hearing everything about this case.” 

Spencer heart skipped a beat, as much as he wanted you safe and sound, he also needed to hold you in his arms to keep his sanity. But ultimately you were the one who should lead your life, not Spencer.  “I appreciate you considering me, but I want the ultimate decision to be made by you Princess, I trust your judgement and I don’t want you living your life based on my fear.” 

You breath caught in your throat at the sentiment. “I love you Spencer Reid.” 

Spencer could have sworn his heart stopped. The two of you hadn’t said I love you yet. Part of him wished it was in person, but just hearing you say it, meant the world to him. “I love you more (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

So help him god, Spencer would catch whoever this unsub was and put him away, so you could come home to a safer city. 

________________________________________________________________

“You know what strikes me as funny?” Emily asked, looking at the crime scene photos. 

The room was silent, waiting to hear what she had to say. 

“Each of these unsubs reported strange gifts and letters being sent to their home. The police had thought it was nothing, but now I am thinking that maybe this could be a connection. I mean think about it, didn’t you guys notice that each victim received a gift box wrapped the exact same way?” 

Morgan nodded. “Yeah they had the white box with the red bow-”

Spencer chimed in, “Red typically symbolizes love and infatuation, but in this case it was the unsub’s warning, red meant war or violence was about to come upon this victim.” 

“Reid and JJ I want you to talk to the officers and get the reports these women filed for harassment, I think we are missing a connection.” Hotch ordered. 

An hour or so later they had that connection.  

“All of the victims received their gifts from a delivery service called ��Special Delivery.’” JJ explained to everyone. 

“Well it seems we have to pay them a visit.” Hotch said. 

________________________________________________________________

Special Delivery was a small Ma and Pa store, located just a couple blocks from Ava’s coffee shop. Spencer debated on stopping in to check in with her and maybe grab the team coffee. 

Spencer had quickly taken a liking to Ava, not only because he had called him your “sexy superhero boyfriend,” but because she was a reliable friend to you, one who always managed to bring a smile to your face. She reminded Spencer of a more wild Emily, in the best way possible.

Emily stopped outside the storefront window, glancing at the display of chocolates, gift baskets, and jewelry. “Why is it always the cute small places that get ruined? Can’t it be one of those big corporate offices that fuck over their employees instead?” 

Spencer huffed a laugh. 

As they entered the store, the bell let out a delicate twinkle. Causing a silver-streaked brunette to pop out from the back of the store. Her round face held a warm smile as she approached them. 

“Hello dears! What can I do for you?” She asked as she excitedly clasped her hands together.

“Hello Mrs. Ellison, my name is SSA Prentiss and this is Dr. Reid, we had a few questions for you.” Emily said gently, flashing her badge to the woman. 

The woman's smile dimmed a bit, “Oh, uh of course, is everything alright?” 

“Mrs. Ellison I am sure you’ve heard of the recent tragedies-” Emily began, 

“Oh yes, I’ve been keeping up with the news, it’s just dreadful that something so horrible could happen so close to home. You see these things in movies or in other places, but you just never expect them to happen right near you.” Mrs. Ellison said sorrowfully, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“Mrs. Ellison, I am afraid everyone of these victims received several deliveries from your shop. Each was wrapped exactly the same, white box, red bow, does this ring any bells for you?” Spencer asked, cutting to the chase. 

“Well dear, it is Valentine season, red, pink, and white are the typical go to colors.” She shrugged. 

“Do you have any regulars? He would have each gift he bought wrapped the exact same way? He would seem friendly, but would be on the quieter side?” Emily asked, attempting to prod the older woman’s memory. 

“I’m afraid none of that is ringing any bells dear, I am so sorry.” Mrs. Ellison said apologetically. 

“Do you have any other employees? Or do you run this place all by yourself?” Spencer asked. 

Mrs. Ellison, let out a small laugh, “Oh goodness me, no. I get so many orders, I could never do it by myself. I previously had three employees, Jess, Remy, and Andrew, but I had to fire Andrew when I found him stealing from our stock. It was a shame too, he was a hardworking boy, but I’m afraid he just fell apart after his wife left him.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a quick glance. “Do you happen to know why his wife left him?” Spencer asked, his heart picking up speed. 

“Oh it's not my business to share-” Mrs. Ellison hesitated. 

“Please Mrs. Ellison, this could be crucial information.” Emily urged her. 

Mrs. Ellison let out a sigh. “That horrible girl cheated on him. I just couldn’t understand it either, Drew was such a doting gentleman to her, it simply didn’t make sense.” 

“Do you still have his contact information? His address?” 

“Why of course, but you couldn’t possibly think he has anything to do with this-” Mrs. Ellison began, making her way to behind the counter to grab a binder. She looked up worried when Spencer and Emily didn’t answer right away. “Do you?” She urged. 

“It’s quite possible he had nothing to do with it, we just need to follow through with every angle.” Emily quickly explained. 

“Of course.” Mrs. Ellison said, but her hands slightly shook as she opened up her binder to get Andrew’s address. 

________________________________________________________________

“Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, open up.” Hotch hollered from outside the door. There was no response. Hotch looked to his team to make sure they were ready, then kicked in the door. 

As the team checked different rooms, several calls of “Clear!” echoed throughout the house. Curtis was not there. 

Morgan made his way to the basement and swallowed back a gag. “Hotch! You better come see this.” 

Guns at the ready, Spencer, Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, made their way down to Morgan. 

“What the hell.” Emily huffed as they all beheld the horrific sight before them. 

It was a girl, for sure. She had the same mutilated marks as far as they could tell, but her body was decently decayed. 

“He’s displaying her like a trophy.” Spencer observed. “He props her up naked and makes sure her wounds are fully on display to remind him what he did.”

“There’s more trophies over here.” Rossi said in disgust, gesturing to a shelf full of different valuables. 

“He’s sick.” Morgan hissed. 

“We need a med team down here to remove a body. As soon as it’s IDed we need to know and alert any next of kin.” Hotch ordered into his earpiece. 

Rossi put on a glove and began to go through the other trophies for evidence. “I’ll talk to the victims families and see if any of them recognize these items.” 

Morgan dialed up Garcia. 

“Speak and be heard, the all-knowing goddess listens.” 

“Hey baby girl, I need you to look up any missing person’s reports from around this area. The victim has (y/c/h) and (y/c/e). She fits our victimology to a t, but we need to figure out who she is.”

“I’m on it.” Garcia said. 

“And Garcia,” Hotch said, stopping her before she hung up. “I need you to find a license plate for Andrew Curtis. Also check to see if he rents or owns any other property, he’s currently not at his home and it is too close to other buildings for his victims to not be heard.” 

“You got it. Talk soon.” She said, hanging up. 

About half an hour later Garcia got back to them. “Curtis drives a 2003 silver sedan with the license plate 637-IRT. I also found that he rents a small storage unit that’s a 20 minute drive in a more secluded part of town. I am sending the address to you guys now.” 

“Thanks Garcia.” Hotch said. He turned to JJ “I need you to get an APB on Curtis. I want you to warn the public to keep an eye out for him.” 

JJ nodded and rushed off with her phone. Hotch looked to the rest of the team. “Everyone else, vests on, we are heading to that storage unit.”

________________________________________________________________

“Fuck Drew, what are we going to do?” The boy asked as he looked at the screen projecting a news report on Andrew Curtis.

“Well, it might be the end for me, little brother, but I have you as my legacy. They don’t have a clue that you are even involved, so I need you to get out of here.”

“No, no, no. I am not going to leave you!” The Boy cried, tears streaming down his face. 

Drew huffed a laugh. “Now, now, little bro. It isn’t the time for tears. I’ve taught you everything you need to know. You need to get your girl from that Doctor remember?”

“How am I supposed to do this without you?” The Boy asked, fear filled his voice. 

“Your time will come. You have to be a man about this. You have the skills now and you have our little videos to watch. Your own little tutorial to pluck that girl right out of Dr. Reid’s hands. You need to hide those and hide them well. Promise me you won’t fuck up your chance.” Drew growled. 

The Boy whimpered and Drew smacked him. “Promise me!” He yelled. 

“I promise.” The Boy sobbed, grabbing at his pained cheek.

Drew’s face softened and he gave the boy a smile. “Good, now get out of here legacy and make me proud. I expect to see you on the news someday.” He winked. “You remember our code right?” 

The boy nodded. 

“Then this isn’t the last time we will speak to each other. Now get the fuck out of here, I already fucked with the security footage, so they won’t even know you were here.” Drew explained, pushing the boy out towards the parking lot. 

The Boy’s heart broke as he rushed from his mentor, not only because he knew he would never be able to see Drew in person after this, but because he knew that he would never be able to ruin the 6th victim. The sixth whore that was tied up in the trunk of Drew’s car. 

________________________________________________________________

The girl sobs were muffled by her gag. Drew pulled on her hair harder as he dragged her to the storage unit. He knew he didn’t have much time left, so he might as well let every moment count huh?

The girl’s sobs turned into terrified screams as she beheld the bloodied storage room and the various knives and devices within it. 

“Shut up you stupid bitch.” He growled in her ear.

The girl whimpered something and Drew ripped away her gag. 

“Please.” She begged and Drew simply laughed as he lugged her limp body towards the table in the center of the room.

“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I have a family who cares about me-” She pleaded. 

“Whores don’t have families. Whores have nothing. They just cheat and lie and move onto the next guy. Huh Madelyn?” He growled as he threw her up onto the table.

“My name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily-” The girl sobbed.

“Enough of your lies Madelyn. You stupid slut. You couldn’t stay loyal could you?” Drew snarled, hitting the girl’s head hard against the table.

She sobbed harder. “My name is Emily, my name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily.” She babbled.

“SHUT UP.” He said, hitting her again.

Suddenly a shout rose up from outside the storage unit door. “Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, come out with your hands raised.” 

The smile that crept across Drew’s face was wicked. He grabbed a knife and pulled Emily against him. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” He whispered in her ear. 

“Andrew Curtis, this is your last warning. We will come in armed and ready.” Hotch’s voice shouted again. 

Drew remained where he was, the sick smile on his face, as tears streamed down Emily’s face. 

When the door burst open and several agents poured in, he did not flinch or cower away. 

“Drop the weapon.” Hotch boomed, his voice echoing in the space.

“Now, now, now, where would the fun be in that?” Drew mocked. 

“Put down the weapon, Curtis and let the girl go.” Rossi ordered. 

Drew’s eyes looked past all of them and fell on Spencer, he bit back a smile.

“Come any closer and I’ll slice her throat.” Drew threatened, pressing the knife harder to Emily’s throat, a few drops of crimson blossomed and crept down her neck.

“If you don’t let Miss Bloise go, then we will be forced to take action Mr. Curtis.” Rossi explained.

Drew’s hand shook, god he wanted them to come at him, but then he thought of his mentee, how lost he would be without him. 

He lowered the knife and let the girl go. She ran towards one of the agents, tears mixing with the blood that ran down her neck. JJ wrapped an arm around the girl and guided her out. 

Morgan rushed to Curtis, pinning him down against the floor and putting cuffs around his wrists. 

Though they had caught him, Hotch felt uneasy. Curtis had given in too quickly. The greasy smile across Curtis’s face as Morgan led him away only heightened his suspicions. 

________________________________________________________________

The team sat outside the interrogation room, watching as Hotch tried to get a rise out of Andrew Curtis. He and JJ had gone in; Hotch to be the intimidator, JJ to be the trigger as she looked a bit similar to the victims. So far the man had just sat in the chair, his arms crossed, silent and smirking. It had been almost an hour and they had gotten nothing out of him.

Spencer felt as though Curtis could see him through the two-way mirror. 

“You know Agent,” Curtis began. “I know you’re trying to be the big bad wolf, but it’s not going to work, I’ve dealt with worse than you.”

Morgan looked about ready to kick in the door and beat the confession out of Andrew. 

“Send me in, I’ll get an answer out of him” Morgan growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Unfortunately, the confession won’t stand up in court if they found out you beat the shit out of Curtis to get it” Emily smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“The Court doesn’t have to know” Morgan argued, making Emily scoff. 

“Focus kids.” Rossi ordered sternly, but Spencer could tell he was fighting back a small smile. 

Hotch and JJ came out of the room. Hotch looked to Spencer, his expression grim. “He wants to talk with you.”

Spencer looked at Hotch confused, “Why me?”

“He’s ‘fascinated by you’” Hotch explained. “I know it’s not ideal and you don’t have to go in their Reid, but-”

“But, we could get the confession out of him. We have the charges for Miss Bloise, but we want to pin him for the other girls he attacked. I understand and I will do it.” Spencer said. 

“I’ll stick with you Spence” JJ reassured, putting a hand on his arm. “You won’t be alone.”

Spencer nodded, sending a grateful look JJ’s way as they made their way into the interrogation room.

“Ah the elusive doctor. So glad you could join us.” Drew purred.

Spencer said nothing as he moved to sit down across from Curtis.

“-your wife left you Mr. Curtis, is that correct?” JJ asked.

“Please doll, a pretty thing like you can call me Drew” Drew said, looking JJ up and down. 

Spencer’s fists clenched in anger as he felt JJ tense next to him.

“The file says she left you after she cheated on you. Did you have medical issues Mr. Curtis?” Reid asked, drawing Curtis’s attention to him. “Did you struggle to please your own wife?”

Curtis growled. “That stupid whore has nothing to do with this.” 

“Ah so you couldn’t and when she left you for a man that could, you projected your anger for her onto these women. You were angry at them for being confident and independent, much like your wife who knew what she wanted.” Spencer said, sitting back in his chair with a faint smirk. 

“These women were nothing but whores, willing to let men in like me. They wanted someone so badly they let a stranger into their house.” Curtis hissed.

“Mr. Curtis, you were a delivery man. They didn’t let you in, you forced your way into their homes didn’t you?”

“If a man needs a glass of water, can’t he let himself in?” Curtis purred. “They turned their backs on a predator and got what was coming to them.” 

“Did you attack them in their homes?” JJ asked. 

“Only to make them quiet, couldn’t have the neighbors hear them scream.” Curtis laughed and Spencer resisted the urge to choke out the man across from him. 

They placed images of all of his supposed victim’s before him. “Do you recognize these women?” JJ asked, her voice harsh and cold. 

Curtis looked over all of them, silent for a couple minutes. Spencer’s patience thinned. “Well?” 

Curtis pointed to an image of Lila Jennings, the third victim of this case. “She screamed the loudest.” He pointed to another image. “She was a hot piece of ass, it was fun breaking her.” 

“Enough.” Spencer hissed. 

“In short Doctor, yes I do recognize these women. Every single one of them and no I do not regret a single one.”

Without saying another word, JJ and Spencer got up, taking the files with them. Curtis’s laughter rang out behind them as they shut the door.

________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST

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[blackleatherjacketz]

My Brother’s Keeper: Chapter 11

Negan x Reader

Summary: Your brother runs away from the Sanctuary and you pay the price. This Chapter: A few weeks after Negan finds your brother, you attempt to return to your normal life.

Warnings: Lemons, Cunnilingus, Coercion, Sex, Grief, Medical Jargon, A Star Trek Joke

Word Count: 3237

Read the rest of the story HERE!

Mary’s leg was red and painful as you ran your palm slowly down her shin, nearly dwarfing the size of her other leg. You took care to press gently, measuring the amount of swelling that had caused her to stay home from work that day.

“Did you fall or injure yourself in any way?” You asked, looking up at her from your crouched position at her feet. “Any cuts, scrapes of bruises? It could be something minor that opened a pathway to infection.” You hoped that it was something as simple as cellulitis, but your gut told you otherwise.

“No, honey, I just sit at the shop all day. But this morning when I got up out of bed, it hurt to even move it.” She told you, leaning forward to touch her calf.

You kept your eyes down as you feared the worst, feeling for a pedal pulse which was barely palpable. “Have you had any trouble breathing? Any chest tightness or heaviness?” You remembered all of the patients like Mary you treated at the hospital before the world stopped turning; people who were lazy, people who were active, the young and the old. It didn’t matter then and it didn’t matter now, disease was an unbiased son of a bitch.

“No, none of that, sweetie.” She leaned back in her chair and patted her chest, thrumming a small rhythm onto her skin.

“I’m gonna have Doctor Carson start you on Eliquis tonight,” you explained. “It’s a blood thinner and will help get rid of that clot I think you have in your leg.” You paused, smiling as you looked into her tired and weary eyes. “In the meantime I’m gonna need you to take it easy for a few days, okay? No more half marathons.” You winked at her and stood up, dusting the dirt off your knees.

You often had to resign yourself to defeat in the apocalypse, coming to terms with the half lives and expiration dates of critical medications. In the old world you would have given her a Heparin drip, ordered an ultrasound of the veins in her legs and drawn labs to check her clotting time until she was stable. But this wasn’t the old world, now, was it? This was the Sanctuary, and Eliquis was all you had.

“Thank you, dear,” Mary’s hands clasped around yours, her many rings brushing against the dry skin on your palms.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at Mary’s gratitude, the one thing that brought you joy in the past couple of days, and walked out of her room.

You pulled the notepad out of your jacket and wrote down her information: Mary Jackson, 67F, DVT LLE, Eliquis QID. You grinned to yourself as you entered the common area, putting your notepad back in your pocket as you were finally able to go half the day without thinking about your brother. No more tears to blur your vision, no more fatigue to keep you in bed, no more anger to make you strike out at your peers. You were practically yourself again.

You walked past Mary’s usual market stand that was now run by her husband, Jim, and gave him a quick little wave. He waved back slowly, his NASCAR hat unable to hide the joy in his eyes when he saw you.

“How’s she doing, Doc?”

“Damnit Jim, I’m a nurse, not a doctor.” You stopped in front of his table, waiting for the joke to register on his face before frowning as he failed to get your Star Trek reference. You shrugged it off and looked over his merchandise before spotting a tiny porcelain tiger.

“Well, you’re the best we’ve got, and certainly a lot better than Dr. Personality over there.” He nodded toward the infirmary.

“Every doctor needs their nurse!” You reassured him, not ready to badmouth your colleague. “Mary most likely has a blood clot in her leg. I didn’t see any cuts or scrapes indicating cellulitis, so I’m gonna start her on a blood thinner tonight; break that sucker up and have her back to work in no time.”

Jim took in a deep breath. “A blood clot? Is it serious?”

You opened your mouth to answer him but stopped as an eerie whistle sounded, wrenching Jim’s wrinkled face into shock. His brown eyes darted past you, following a slowly moving object before kneeling down onto his knees behind his station. The whistle only got louder, Negan’s voice freezing you in place as everyone else in the room followed suit. Jim looked at you with caution, pointing to Negan with his eyebrows before you eventually decided to turn around.

“On your knees, Princess.” Negan seemed taller than you remembered, growing in height as you lowered yourself to the ground. “Word on the street’s you’ve been getting your hands dirty, making house calls, being a real Mother Teresa type.” Negan waltzed up to you, lifting your chin with the tip of Lucille.

It was true that you were burying yourself in your work, trying to take your mind off the eternity of grey each morning brought as you did your best to find some color in the Sanctuary. You strove to be that good person Alden saw in you, but it didn’t matter how many people you helped, you still couldn’t quite shake the darkness inside.

“Yeah?” You tried to ignore the proximity of the weapon that bashed your brother’s brains in a few weeks ago. “Did you come here to canonize me into sainthood?”

Negan turned his head as he tried to register what you said, laughing instead of asking exactly what you meant. “Not really.”

“What do you want, then?” You asked, the tip of Lucille tilting your chin upward.

“I wanna talk,” he started. He lowered his bat down to your neck, tracing the outline of your clavicle as it’s barbs scratched little white lines into your skin.

“Then talk.” You stood up against his bat, crossing your arms over your chest as you rose to your feet.

“Huh,” he chuckled at your audacity. “I’d rather have a private conversation.” He dropped Lucille to his side and leaned in close, the heat from his breath setting your skin on fire. “That is, unless you want everyone else here to watch.”

“No,” you answered, looking back at Jim and his porcelain tiger. “Private is fine.” —————————

Negan’s room was just as luxurious as you remembered it, the giant bed spurring memories that blocked out the painful ones you kept reliving every night. You were nowhere near ready to be alone with him in such a small room, to look at his handsome face and smell the cologne on his neck, but here you were.

You followed him here against your better judgement, knowing full well what he intended to ask you without knowing if you had the conviction to stand your ground. Perhaps you were just tired of mourning, of seeing your brother’s ghost in the hallway and your mother’s in the kitchen. That ache he’d placed in your heart never quite outweighed the ache he’d placed between your legs.

“You want a drink?” Negan got comfortable after closing the door behind him, setting Lucille down and shrugging out of his leather jacket.

God, yes. You wanted a drink more than anything. You wanted to taste that warm whiskey and forget everything that had happened; to let it pulse through your veins and push you into his arms even though you knew it was the last thing you needed right now.

“Yeah,” you decided out loud. “Yeah, I’ll take that drink.”

“Good.” Negan walked over to the bar and got two glasses from the top shelf, pouring an amber liquid into each of them. “Now I know what I did was kind of fucked up and everything, but I just gotta ask,” he trailed off, collecting the glasses in his hands before turning to face you. ”Are you still pissed at me?”

Was he kidding? How could you not be? He murdered your brother right in front of you, and now he was acting like nothing had happened? Like he was innocent? Like you should be grateful? If he was anyone else in the world you might tell him all of that, but he was Negan, and so were you. You had to choose your words carefully.

“Maybe,” you whispered, taking the glass from him.

“Maybe,” his voice was as smooth as the whiskey going down your throat. “Maybe not.” His hazel eyes glowed in the pink of the summer sunset. You hated how beautiful he was, how sinfully stunning his mere presence was as you actively tried to despise him.

“I should hate you… for what you did,” you braved, staring at his frustratingly pleasing form.

“Yeah,” he smiled and took a sip. “Yeah you should.” He stepped toward you, his quickening proximity sending a rush of heat between your thighs. “But you don’t.” The look on his face was more than victorious, the wrinkles around his eyes telling you that he knew things would turn out this way, no matter how badly he hurt you.

“You wanted to talk…” you began, refusing to respond to his taunt. “Let’s talk.” You felt the heat spread throughout your body as he advanced on you, taking a step backward until you found yourself seated on his bed.

Negan bit his lower lip as he watched you rest on his mattress, eyes dancing over you while his hand slithered over the top of your thigh. “I was thinking we could do more that…”

“I thought this was over,” you tested him, taking a sip and lowering your glass.

“I wanted to give you time to get back on your feet.” His hand traveled inward, fingertips brushing against the denim that contained your needy sex. “I’m a stand-up guy like that.” He winked and finished his drink, setting it down on the nightstand next to Lucille.

“Plus, Rick the prick took a little longer to break in than I imagined.” He squeezed your thigh and tipped the bottom of your glass upwards, smirking as you reluctantly chugged the rest of the liquid down your throat. “Good girl.” He purred, taking your empty glass and setting in down next to his.

“He did, huh?” You’d heard about the new community Negan found and how they massacred an entire Savior outpost in one night. You didn’t know much about who they were or where they came from, but you did know that Negan made it pretty clear they were messing with the wrong people.

“Yeah, but I’m not here to talk about that.” He smoothed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “After everything that’s happened, I just wanna make sure you’re still who I think you are.”

He smiled and snaked his hand up the front of your shirt, sliding your stethoscope off your neck and setting it down beside him. Grinning like a kid in a candy store, he pushed up into your shoulders, grazing his calloused hands over your arms before taking the sleeves of your work jacket with them. You took in a deep breath and let him undress you like you always did, pushing the memory of your brother out of your mind as he stood you up and took off the rest of your clothes.

Instead of forcing you onto the bed in some demeaning position, Negan took your face in his hands. He stared at you endlessly, those hazel eyes turning an electric gold in the warming sunlight before gently kissing your lips. Well, that was new.

“I’m Negan,” you whispered into his mouth, hoping that was what he wanted to hear. The taste of the whiskey heightened your senses as his tongue brushed against yours, sending little jolts of pleasure into your brain. “I’m still Negan,” you reassured him.

“Good.” He pushed you onto your back, feathering his fingers up your thighs until they reached the junction between your legs. “That’s what I thought.” The smile that graced his lips was purely demonic, baring sharp teeth as he lowered them to your pelvis to finally take a bite.

You hissed as he wantonly feasted on your flesh, writhing beneath him as his mouth made that deadly concoction of pain and pleasure you loved so much. You watched him lick the moisture between your folds, bringing his tongue up on your clit like a cat giving itself a bath. His eyes darkened as he took you in, watching your face change with each lick, each lap of arousal coating his generous and eager tongue.

You let yourself leave the present time and place, closing your eyes and focusing only on how he made you feel. Warm wet strips of delight excited your juicy center as his whiskers brushed against your thigh. You never imagined you’d feel this good again, every pulsing inch of your heat begging for more as he sucked and tugged on your raw flesh. He hummed a deep tune into your body, vibrating your very bones in a song as if you were his favorite wind instrument.

Knuckles white against his scalp, you rolled your hips into him, guiding his hungry mouth exactly where you wanted as you felt your thighs begin to quake. Those feelings of anger and doubt all washed away as a heavy tidal wave of bliss crashed over you, forcing your back to curve and flatten like waves upon the ocean. Every swear word you had in your arsenal left your lips as you came, the ebb and flow of your orgasm giving you an excuse to use the language you wanted to shout at him for the longest time.

Your eyes fluttered open as he pulled his mouth away, lips and beard wet with your juices as he began undoing his pants. Part of you wanted to deny him, to put your foot on his chest and keep him at bay, but you were too tired. Too tired of consciously avoiding him, of being strong for your family and burying your feelings of grief. Instead you sat up on your elbows, watching him undress in the heavy lavender of dusk as his clothes finally hit the floor.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, welcoming him back as he pressed into you without ceremony. Your walls stretched and adjusted to his girth, your time away from him erasing that muscle memory as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. More waves built up as his body pushed and pulled, hitting those bruises he’d placed with his mouth as a tsunami of pleasure built up inside you.

He grunted and groaned as he tasted your neck, recklessly thrusting until either of you could take it any longer. His eyes shut as he came inside you, biting your throat as he pushed himself up to the hilt, filling you up with all he had. His hips crashed into yours with that final wave, his white hot liquid spilling inside you as he held you close, twitching and spasming with his final efforts.

You’d never admit it, but you didn’t want to let him go. You wished you could stay here like this forever, with him deep inside you as your sweat mixed with his in the most primal of ways. If you didn’t think about it, it was like there was no one else that mattered but the two of you. No one else in the world.

You kissed his forehead as he leaned into you, the sweat from his brow coating your lips as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on the bed.

“Shit, doll,” he mumbled, “You must have really missed me.” He kissed your clavicle and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling as he tried to collect himself.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you countered, teeth still chattering from your orgasm. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to ask me to be your wife.” You couldn't stand the suspense any longer.

“Are you shittin’ me? And ruin what we’ve got goin’ here?” He chuckled and ran a hand down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path. “I got a better job for you, something I think you’ll like a lot more than being locked away with a bunch of broads.”

You turned your head to look at him, wondering what on earth he could be talking about. “A different job than being a nurse?” For once in your life, you wanted to know what was going on in that head of his.

“Sorta,” he paused. “Rick’s group got me thinkin’... maybe we don’t have as tight a hold on our communities as we thought.” He bit your shoulder and turned you on your side, taking time to rub the sore muscles in your back. “I’m gonna send you to the Kingdom to do a little recon for me.”

“Recon?” What did he just say? The Kingdom? Send you there? Didn’t he want you here? Wasn’t that why he lured you up here, so he could… You closed your eyes as your stomach wretched in disappointment, the acid bubbling over the top and into your throat. “I’m not a Savior, Negan, I have no business being a spy,” you protested.

“I know.” He kissed your neck, tugging on your skin with his teeth before sliding his tongue gently over it. You were still sensitive as he sucked the new bruise into your flesh, tiny little neurons firing the last of what they had into your system.

“I don’t understand,” you whispered between moans. It dawned on you now why he wanted to get you into bed so quickly; you couldn’t say no to him while you were naked in his arms riding the high of an orgasm. He never had any intention of asking you to be his wife at all, did he?

“I just couldn’t shake how Zeke looked at you when we were over there. I mean, not that I can blame him,” he explained, grabbing your breasts and pulling you into him.

You gasped at the sudden contact, instinctively writhing your exhausted body into his. “I don’t think…”

“No, you wouldn’t. Which is why you need to be over there. No one will suspect a nurse.” He paused. “Rick the prick didn’t get his information out of nowhere, and I need to know which community’s to blame.” He smoothed his hand down your body, overworking your pleasure center as he curved it around your hips.

“We’ll drop you off, make it look like you’re some kind of traveler,” he whispered, cupping your ass and spreading your cheeks. “And then every week during their offering I get to eat that pussy until I’m not hungry anymore.” He slid his fingers up between your thighs, still wet with your arousal. “Pull all that sensitive information out of that big ole brain of yours.”

“I uh… oh my God, Negan…” You couldn’t help but rock into him, relishing the sensation of his fingers as they entered you again. “What if I say no?” The question was more for yourself, but you decided to let him hear it, too.

“Do this for me baby, and I won’t have to harm a single hair on your dad or sister’s head ever again.”

--------------------------

Tags: @irrelevantwriter @genevievedarcygranger @letsby @annablack1102 @negansdirtygirl22 @negans-network @rasa1945 @chamberofsloths @namelesslosers @collette04 @haleyea @bishsposts @bodhi-black @mblaqgi @ptite-shit @jamiekingofmen @ibelongtonegan @divadinag @dxloverpunk @tylersblurrylittleface

[unholyhelbiglinked]

Dimensions | Chapter Three

CHECK OUT THE STORY FROM THE START

THE AIR at Noonan’s was always filled with a slight hint of cinnamon. It was a bakery, and Beca Mitchell didn’t doubt the warm feeling that hit the core of her stomach every single time the bell above the door chimed in welcoming.

She had been coming here since she was younger- it was on the corner of the street Barden resided in. Half of the time it was filled to the brink with employees trying to kickstart their days- or students from the local high school that wanted to kill some time and some free wi-fi.

Today was a Monday, Beca’s face still aching in an ugly yellowed bruise, her lip no longer tasting like a coppery mix of blood and mint. It had only been two days and her body was slowly recovering from her little run in. It still ached- still burned and chided each time she did decide to push herself past the loft this weekend.

She needed this coffee. Beca wasn’t the sugar and creamer type of girl, she could take the black tarry liquid right off the burner and chug it until her throat burned and stomach grumbled in protest. But right now- that very scent of caffeine was so enticing that her mouth was instantly filled with saliva.

Beca’s phone buzzed haphazardly in her pocket as she leaned heavily against the side of the wall- waiting for the sound of her name being called throughout the café. She wanted to press ignore, not wanting to deal with whatever text lay on the other end.

Dr. Conrad[8:17AM]

Hey Short Stack, Amy is out tonight so the two of us are going to take to the town.

Beca[8:18AM]

Oh, God. It’s Thursday, can’t I nap on a perfectly good Thursday night?

Dr. Conrad[8:20AM]

Not a chance. See you tonight.

She let out a groan as her name was called out, causing her to shove her phone into her pocket as she smiled at the young barista behind the counter. Despite being around all that coffee, the woman looked dead inside. The brunette felt her pain and gave her a sympathetic look before thanking her and turning towards the door.

Beca froze, her heart in her throat as she pressed the edge of the plastic lid to her lips. She was mid-sip when she caught a glance at a certain Red Head by the windows. She was busy shoving half of a cinnamon bun into her mouth. Even with the morning just peaking through the horizon she wore a smile. Her deep blue eyes catching Beca’s as she parted her lips slightly, lifting an eyebrow towards Beca.

Her feet felt like cement. It would be rude to walk out of Noonan’s without saying hi, or at least share a bit of conversation with the excitable woman who was beaming at her from across the room. Beca eventually swallowed her resolve, along with the bitter taste her coffee let behind.

“Callie, right?” She asked, giving the girl a playful glimmer. The girl scoffed loudly and shook her head, wiping the edge of her lip with her thumb, getting the bit of icing and cinnamon away from the corner of her lip.

“That woman hates me,” She said, running a hand through her hair as she gestured for Beca to sit down. The smaller girl eyed her, but eventually pulled the other chair out, lowering herself into it with caution. Chloe seemed to respond well to the action, pushing the rest of the sticky cinnamon bun to the side with a gracious grin at the sudden company.

“That woman hates everyone,” Beca said. It wasn’t necessarily untrue. Gail Abernathy was interested in proving herself. She didn’t just give manners and respect to anyone that flashed their expression at her. You had to prove yourself to gain some type of kindness from the blonde woman who built an empire out of nothing.

“She doesn’t seem to hate you,” Chloe said with a bit of spark as she pointed the edge of her fork Beca’s way, waving it around a bit.

“Oh, trust me, she does.” She brunette leaned back in her seat, taking a cautious drink of her coffee. It burned against her throat and filled her lungs with a thick heat. “Gail just realized that it was easier to have me on her side than against her.”

Beca made an odd face as another wave of sweet icing and spices hit her senses. She was the one that was so used to drinking black coffee that was way too bitter for her own good. She had a feeling that Chloe would dump whole cups of sugar into the hot beverage until they formed rough ropes at the bottom of the mug.

“How do you eat that this early in the morning?” She asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Easy,” Chloe shrugged her shoulders with a toothy grin as she popped the last bit of pastry into her mouth “I’m an alien.”

THE YOUNG woman leaned back heavily in her chair, letting the springs creak and groan against her added weight as her eyelids began to grow heavy. It didn’t matter how many cups of coffee she had downed- the day was still dragging along.

Her main focus was on the string that was laced around her fingers. It was a large strand that she had pulled from the hem of her regular black t-shirt. She wasn’t worried about the two pieces of fabric falling apart- not when she had a million other shirts like it. Instead- she practiced a game she remembered learning as a child. Cat’s cradle.

Beca’s stare was desolate as she glanced at the intricate weaving of a tiny thread against pale skin. It reminded her of an obstacle course created by supervillains before the main hero could get to that precious artifact- the one to stop world hunger, or finally shut off a desolate machine that could destroy the world.

Jessica yawned beside her, a little whimper escaping the girls pink drawn lips as she leaned her head against the side of her hand- eyes drooping themselves. It was a boring day- one filled with watching security camera’s and making sure everyone who walked through the front door had their badges.

Usually, Beca wouldn’t bother herself with this kind of thing- but with Flo taking a leave of absence for the next few weeks to handle some family matters, and Ashley not bothering to get her flu shot this year, she was shit out of luck. Of course, she had more than a couple of people on her team- but none willing enough to actually sit through this torture.

“Stick your hand through here,” Beca mumbled, shifting in the leather chair before she was at the very end, she had scooted close enough that she could smell the lavender coming off of her counterpart.

“What?” Jessica finally shot a deep hazel stare towards her boss- the very boss that had her tongue sticking slightly past her lips in an attempt to focus more clearly. She did that sometimes- the badass who could somehow look like a lost puppy in a matter of moments. Still, the taller blonde cocked her head to the side.

“Stick your hand in the middle of this thing,” Beca said without breaking concentration, she used to do this type of thing all the time as a kid. If she had strung her cards right then she could untangle the thread in one swift movement, even with Jess’s wrist in the middle of it.

The blonde took her bottom lip between her teeth to stifle a laugh at her boss’s slack expression. She stuck her hand out, slowly working her fingers through the middle of the little obstacle course before staring at the woman with curiosity.

“Don’t cut off my circulation, Mitchell.” She mumbled with a bit of malice, but mostly bewilderment.  The brunette gave a curt nod as she made one shift yank- a light grunt moving through Beca as her fingers became tangled in the very thread she had pulled.

Jessica drew in a breath as she deadpanned next to her counterpart- utterly annoyed at the woman for playing cat’s cradle in the middle of a work day- especially if she didn’t exactly know how to execute the maneuver.

“Am I interrupting something?” A deep voice filled the air, a stranger at that. Beca’s breath caught in her throat as she pulled back completely, struggling to untangle herself from Jessica as the woman struggled to stifle a laugh. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and rubbed her stinging hands on her knees.

Beca’s gaze flashed up to the man who was standing on the other edge of the counter- a goofy grin on his face as he adjusted the black leather strap of his over the shoulder bag. He wore a pale blue button-down that clashed with chocolate brown eyes and an edging grin.

“No um, not at all-“Beca stood, “And you are?”

This man didn’t dawn a badge. Beca didn’t care if he looked charming and harmless- he was still a stranger that had walked past the double paned glass doors and into the base floor of Barden’s offices. That made her walls spring up almost instantly- a sharp chill moving through her.  

“Jesse Swanson,” He smirked, sticking out a hand with confidence. “I was told to come see a Beca Mitchell about a badge and an office.”

He was beaming, if not struggling to stay upright. Even though she had just met this man, she knew he was clumsy- clumsy enough to mess with the dark camera strung around his neck and the prints tucked under his arm.

“Oh, you’re that photographer guy!” Jessica said excitedly, her lips parting as Beca turned her head and gave the girl a curved eyebrow. She sunk into her seat nervously but still turned her attention back to Jesse. “Is it true, you know Superman?”

He blew a puff of breath out of his nose as he gave her a charming smirk. Something told Beca that he was always this playful with his words. “I’ve taken his picture a few times. He’s posed for a few of them.”

“Whoa, that is so cool” Jessica gasped, mouth agape. Beca wrapped her touch around the plastic badge that showed a chiseled jaw of Jesse himself. She cleared her throat, lifting the picture ID up.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’ll show you to your office, Mr. Swanson.”

He faltered at the serious tone she took, stepping from behind the desk as she didn’t wait for him to catch his thoughts. Instead, she kept walking, shoes echoing against the quiet lobby as Jessica leaned back in her chair once more and started to pay attention to the monitors again.

They walked past a silver set of elevators until they reached the other end of the lobby, two more elevators were carved into stone as she turned and shoved her hands into her pockets. “These are the staff elevators. You can use these, and the stairs, but never that front elevator up there. That is reserved for Gail, and Gail only.”

“Gail?” Jesse pushed the button to the lift, letting a blue light reflecting off the floor.

“Gail Abernathy,” Beca lifted her eyebrows with a slight smirk. “The woman who hired you?”

“Oh, she didn’t hire me,” He said, “I don’t know who did… all I know is that I was asked to show up at Barden. I don’t even live in National City, but I traded it all for an office with a view.”

“Daring,” She said as the elevator dinged, opening up to its silver interior as she let Jesse press his back against the side wall, staring Beca down. She wasn’t dressed like a normal security guard- instead, she dawned dark jeans and a black V-neck. Her own badge was clipped to a belt loop as she stood with slack. “What about your old job?”

“I was freelancing,” he explained carefully “Not a PI or anything like that but being Superman’s right-hand guy is okay when you don’t actually live in Metropolis. He kind of pushed me to take the job.”  

“Right,” Beca deadpanned, still with an amused expression on her face as she stared at the slowly climbing numbers.

“That’s the second time you’ve done that.”

“Done what?”

“Haven’t reacted.”

She stared his way, knitting her eyebrows together as she parted her lips. She didn’t exactly know how to respond to his words, not when he stared at her expectantly. He had a wonderment in golden eyes that could only be described as childish but innocent.

“Do people usually swoon when you talk about the man in red and blue spandex?”

Instead of waiting for an answer Beca exited the elevator, turning around to see if Jesse was following her. He was. She walked past most of the employees sitting at those obnoxious glass desks, not looking up at the sound of the doors opening and closing. This place, the pit, was always fuming with reporters and editors trying to do the best that they could to please Gail. To keep the news flowing.

Chloe glanced up from her own desk, meeting midnight blue eyes with a small smile as Beca returned it- knowing that the girl had memos to send, a lot of work to get through. She bit the edge of her pen between her lips. She was chewing on it, eyebrows creasing.

Beca pulled open a glass door to one of the offices- it was empty but was different from the other ones. There was a large table, and places to hand new prints- and in fact, a very good view from the windows that pressed against the far wall.  

“Holy shit,” Jesse said, leaning his prints up against the wall as he looked around in awe.

Beca stood back, smiling at the aloof expression on Jesse’s face. “An office with a view.”

[brisfanfictions]

A Bleeding Rose - Shadley

I'm the third oldest hedgehog in the Rose family. Ramvelle is 19 years old and he is my oldest brother. Quincy is 18 years old and he is my second brother. I've only got 2 brother.

Next in line is me. I'm 17 years old and is the oldest of triplets. Amelia is second and Amy is last. We have similar interests... Okay, not always. But, me and Amelia are always close. Amy will be close, but not as close as Amelia and I. Amanda is our youngest sister and the last in line of the Rose family. She's 14 years old. She has redish-green eyes.

My name is... Ashley Rose. I wear red, black, & lavender. People say I'm emo, but emo people only wear black & red. I keep guns and things hidden in my heels or my black leather jacket. My quills cascade down my back. I rarely cut it as short as Amy's. Keeping my long hair helps other people, besides my family, can tell us apart.

Our eyes are the easiest to tell us apart. My eyes are like a ruby red. Amelia's is icy-blue. Amy's is a jade green.

I own a mansion off Emerald Coast and the Forest of Life. It has 6 master bedrooms and 6 guest bedrooms. It has a library, bowling ally, indoor/outdoor pool and hot tubs, rec room, music room, art room, a gun vault (only Amelia and I know the passcode to), and a 12 car garage.

My baby is a black-and-lavender Chevy Camaro ZL1. Amy's car is a blue-and-pink Toyota Prius C. Amelia's car is a red Ford Focus ST. Ramvelle's car is a gold Mitsubishi Evo XI (11). Quincy's car is a silver Dodge Dart.

I love this black-and-red hedgehog. He is SO cute and is such a badass... But, I don't think he likes me.

Ever since I was 12, he gave me the cold shoulder and swore in my face. He always got angry at me and I never know what I did WRONG! Anyways, I'm going to take a walk. Not on the beach, but in the forest. I always found it soothing for me...

And, no I'm NOT taking my car!

I'm in my favorite sleepwear, a lavender night-gown, before I left my mansion.

I was hiding in a tree in the Forest of Life. Well... Really, I was taking a nap. But, after the moon rose, I woke up.

Right now, I'm watching the night sky. The full moon is showing the clearing that I'm near. The stars are lite up the night sky. It's very beautiful... But, only a certain hedgehog can really turn this night sky even more beautiful.

My mind wanders to the hedgehog who makes me smile... Her name is Ashley Rose. She means EVERYTHING to me. She's always been the love of my life... Although, I'll NEVER admit that to ANYONE.

The reason why I love her is because she reminds me of Maria Robotnik. Who died on the ark to save me.

Ashley always makes these gifts on holidays. Valentines' Day is my FAVORITE holiday though. She always makes teddy bears with hearts on them for me. They always say something different every year.

I was pulled out of my thoughts, when I heard rustling of the bushes under the tree I'm in.

Ugh! I hate bushes, trees, and other nature-y stuff. But, I'm in my favorite clearing. The exact clearing where I have the inspiration to make the gifts for Shadow.

There's a stump in the middle of the clearing with flowers around it.

I move toward the stump and sit down on it. It's February 13th. Tomorrow is Valentines' Day and I can't wait!

I was too busy unloading stuff to notice a rustle in the bushes behind me.

I was watching the whole scene unfold. Eggman appeared in the bushes behind Ashley, but only I can see him.

Eggman is holding a gun in his hand and is aiming at Ashley's head.

Ashley is just humming a sweet, lovely tune. She doesn't see Eggman at all.

I'm just humming a sweet song to myself and making Shadow's Valentines' Day gift.

My song stops short when I hear the click of a gun. I turn around quickly and see Eggman holding a gun to my head. I quickly whip up my hands in a surrendering motion.

"Good-bye, Amy Rose." Eggman says, pulling the trigger.

I'm fuming in anger and frustration. I jump in time to avoid the bullet in my head, ultimately killing myself.

But, he manages to hit a vital organ. I fall down, holding my ruby red gloves to the wound.

"You... Bastard..." I mumble, my breathing shallow and my eyes turning black in anger at him. I fall on my hands and knees, coughing up blood. "I'm... Not... My sister..."

Eggman's eyes widen as he sees the black, cold, ruthless eyes staring at him. "A-Ashley... I had no idea you were out here..." He says, completely shocked.

"I..." I begin, coughing up some blood. "I always... Come out here... Before Valentines' Day... To make Shadow's gift..."

"Well... Tell Amy that this is a warning. That I'll get her soon-" Eggman begins.

"Go to hell..." I mumble. "You'll never... Get her... As long as... My other family members... Will protect her!" I try to yell, but it comes out as a moan.

I jump down, quietly and sneak up behind Eggman. When he opens his mouth again, I pull out my gun. I shoot him in the head.

After Eggman falls on the ground bleeding, I run over to Ashley and lay her head on my chest. "Ashley... I'm here... No one will harm you again..." I caress her face, ignoring the urge to cry.

Ashley smiles softly, her black eyes turning into the lovely, ruby red eyes. That I've come to know. Those eyes hold love, affection, and happiness in them.

She moves her free hand up to my face and caress my cheek. "I've... Always pictured... This moment before I died..." She whispers to me, knowing my keen hearing can pick it up. "But, I imagined..." Her eyes turn to pain and coughs up blood. "That I'll die in my... Sleep... Instead of... Being murdered... By that dumbass.. Motherfucker named Eggman..." She says, the pain turning to anger and back again.

My eyes are feeling heavy. I want to sleep, but yet I don't want to... Does that make sense... It makes sense to my jumbled up mind.

"I'm gonna get you to the hospital." Shadow whispers in my ear. "I'll make sure you live and continue your life." He says, determined.

I smile, knowing my eyes are shining with love and happiness. Not the pain I feel in my body.

Shadow picks me up, bridal style. Then, he takes out his Chaos Emerald and Chaos Controls to the hospital.

The doctors and nurses notice the blood on his hands, on my glove, and my lavender night-gown.

"Can we get her to the operating room!" Shadow basically yells.

I wince in pain and he notices. "I'm sorry..." He whispers in my ear, meaning every word.

I giggle, but I stopped short. Because I had to cough up blood on the white linoleum floors.

Shadow frowns and sits in a chair, setting me in his lap.

I look up at him, frowning as he's deep in thought. Worried lines wrinkling his perfect forehead. "What's wrong?" I ask, wanting to make him smile.

"I could've prevented this..." He mumbles, almost to himself. "It's all my fault..."

I frown and poke his cheek, making him look at me. When he does turn his head my way. I respond, "It's NOT your fault... It's mine... I let my guard down..."

He's getting to respond when a nurse rips, metaphorically, me out of his warm and the safety of his arms. I almost make a noise of disapproval, then remember my bullet wound. I don't make a noise as I'm put on a gurney.

I smile at Shadow as he's up and yelling to the doctors to have a few more moments with me. He notices my smile and says nothing more.

I wave as the double doors close behind me. I shut my eyes and let the sleep consume me.

It's 1:52AM, meaning today is Valentines' Day. I've been pacing for the past 6 hours in the waiting room. Glancing at the double doors whenever a doctor appeared. Hoping Ashley's okay.

During those 6 hours, besides my pacing, I called her family, Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles. They're all sitting and waiting.

"Shadow..." Amelia whispers. When I turn my head toward her, she smiles and pats the seat next to her. "She'll be okay. I know Ashley puts up one hell of a fight." She says, hoping to make me smile.

But, it doesn't. The only hedgehog I fell for is STILL in the operating room.

I sit down next to Amelia, putting my face in my hands.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, a light blue fox comes out. He looks around and spots the 9 of us sitting/sleeping. He begins walking over.

I stand up and runs over to him. "Is Ashley okay?!" I ask, anxiously. A hopeful glint in my eyes.

The fox looks at the others and they look up at him, he smiles at us. "My name is Dr. Daniel Garcia." Then, his smile disappears. "I've got some good news and some bad news." He says.

The shred of hope that I had for Ashley is gone. "Can we hear the bad news first?" I respond, sadness seeping into my voice.

"Ashley won't make it... The bullet hit her liver and is wedged too deep in. We can't get it out without damaging her system." He says, going all doctor mode on us.

I sigh and look at him. "What's the good news?" I ask.

Dr. Garcia motions for me to follow.

I obey. We walk until we turn a corner out of Ashley's friends' hearing.

Dr. Garcia turned around and his serious expression on his face makes me stand up straight. I didn't know I was slouching till seeing his hard eyes. "Ashley's awake, but she only requests to see you." He says.

I punch down the urge to smile. Only Ashley gets to see my happy smile.

Dr. Garcia nods and leads me through the hospital. Leading me toward Ashley... For my last memories to make with her...

I'm bored... But, I'm waiting patiently for Shadow to appear in my doorway. It's about 25 minutes until I hear the door make a faint 'click' noise. I turn my head toward the noise and smiles.

"Hey, Sh-Shadikku..." I say, using my favorite nickname for him.

He smiles at me and replies, "Hi, Ash." I blush a faint pink, remembering his nickname for me.

My blush disappears as my facial expression becomes a serious one. "Tell everyone... To protect Amy... Including yourself, Shadow..." I say. "Also, tell them that... I'm sorry... I couldn't be there... To watch you get married..." I pull the blanket up to my mouth and coughs.

He took the chance to say something. "Ashley... Don't say that... I could never love anyone as much as I loved you and Maria..." He says, taking a deep breath. "Your my world, Ashley. Only you can make me smile and melt my cold heart. You taught me to love and be happy again..." I could see his eyes glazing over, fighting back his tears. "Ever since you started to grow up, I wanted to be with you. I wanted to have kids with you..." He whispers, tears falling down his face. "I never wanted this to happen to you... NEVER..." He pulls me into a hug and cries in the crook of my neck.

I smile and play with his quills. My own tears are falling down my face. I try to gain his attention again. "Shadow?" I say.

He looks up, anxiously. "What is it, Ashley?" He asks, holding my hands in his soft, big ones.

I move over a little bit, patting the open space. He takes the hint and climbs in next to me.

I lay my head on his fluffy, white chest. "I love you, Shadow..." I say, shutting my eyes. I fight to open my eyes again when I hear him speak.

"I love you, too, Ashley..." He says, playing with my long quills. "I just wish I could've saved you..."

I smile and giggle quietly. "I knew my time was coming, Shadow... You can't ignore fate..." I say, knowing he'd never believe that.

He looks down at me. "I'm sorry I was such an ass to you... I never want this to happen again... Maria died because I couldn't save her... It's like a repeat of history..." He mumbles.

I laugh quietly, then I have a coughing fit. "Just promise me one thing?" I ask.

He lays his head on mine. "Anything..." He whispers.

"Protect my family... Tell Sonic that I've... Always found him like... A brother..." I say. "Also, move on... I want to see you happy... Not hung up on me... Or my death... It wasn't your fault... It was because of... My carelessness..."

He nods. "I promise..." He says.

I smile and close my eyes again. Allowing the sleep to consume me.

I watch her chest move down and her heart stopping. The heart monitor going ballistic. Her lovely hot pink skin, loses its color. It turns to a pale pink. Her body is turning cold as her soul is leaving her body.

I lost rationality and I start shaking her lifeless body. "ASHLEY! WAKE UP! COME BACK! WAKE UP! PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME!" I scream, tears are falling down my face.

I stay like that until nurses, Dr. Garcia, Sonic, Knuckles, Tails, Ramvelle, Quincy, Amelia, Amy, and Amanda all rush in.

The Rose family pulls me away from Ashley's body. They whisper soothing words to me.

"Please calm down, Shadow..." Amy says.

"She put up a fight to say her last dying words to you." Amelia responds.

"Don't regret the promises you made, Mr. Shadow." Amanda says, frowning.

I take a deep breath and rip my arms out of Ramvelle's and Quincy's grip. "I'm fine..." I say, looking down at the floor.

Sonic and Tails fold their ears down. Knuckles avoids eye-contact.

No one has seen me this broken.

I walk up to Sonic. "Ashley said she always found you like a brother... Also, she wants all of us to protect Amy from Eggman's clutches..." I say. “But, I killed Eggman after he shot Ashley…”

"Is it Eggman who murdered Ashley?" He asks. I nod in response.

I look at Ashley's siblings. They lived with her for a long time. I ruffle Amanda's hair and hugs them all. Giving fists bumps to Ramvelle and Quincy.

"I'll be at home..." I mumble and Chaos Control. But, really, I only want to be in Ashley's room.

I lay down on her bed, breathing in her lavender and rose floral scent. And I fell asleep there.

In my dreams, Ashley is still alive and hands me my Valentines' Day teddy.

But, later on... I began hating the holidays. Because Ashley wasn't there. To give me the love and attention that she always did...

~37 years later~

It's August 1st, 3274 C.E. Today would've been Ashley's 54th birthday.

Amy got married to Sonic and had 2 kids. Angel and Dash Rose the Hedgehog, both were 10 on September 15th, 3260 C.E.

Amelia died of suicide. She confessed to me, but I rejected her. She can act like Ashley all she wants, but she could never be my Ashley.

Ramvelle married Acwellen the Hedgehog. It turns out that he was gay. They never had kids, but they died happily.

Quincy married a fox named Quorra. It's Italian for heart. They had a baby boy. His name is Odil the Hedge-fox. It's French for rich... Although they're poor... Quorra spends the money on Odil...

Amanda married Blink the Hedgehog. He's a black hedgehog with crimson red hair. I find it weird, but I don't normally pay attention to those things anymore. Anyways, they had twins. Basil and Abigail Rose the Hedgehog. Basil is a black hedgehog with pinkish-purple hair. Abigail is a pink hedgehog with black hair and purple streaks in it. They are born on December 19th, 3272 C.E. They'll be 2 soon...

Without Eggman here, Mobius became quite a peaceful place.

If your curious on if I got married, I didn't. I stayed single for her. I gave up my criminal ways for her.

I'm at Ashley's grave. I put down the pink roses and lavenders on it.

The gravestone is in the shape of a heart and on it reads-

'Rest in Piece

'Here lies Ashley Marie Rose.

'Best friend, sister, and girlfriend.

'August 1st, 3220 C.E.-February 14th, 3237 C.E.

'Favorite Holiday: Valentines' Day'

The only people I never pushed away since Ashley's death was her family. If anything, we became closer.

I always talked to them.

I gave up everything... Just for her...

~Few years later~

Shadow the Hedgehog died on February 13th, 3277 C.E.

He is resting next to Ashley's grave. He's up in Heaven, enjoying the time with Ashley.

Just for her, he turned over a new leaf. To make her feel special and happy, once again.

The End...

[cursed-saphire-hart]

One of my better earlier stories ♡

(An old pic Im still proud of)

-

Title: If We Had Met In Another Life

Chapter: N/A

Au: 20s

Word Count: 1,853

Rating: T

Summary: N/A

She had been riding awhile, it was morning when she left, and now as she was sitting in the seat of the train, the cool morning, turned into a warm afternoon. Hours passed, and she had fallen asleep under her fathers old jacket, it smelled of pine wood bark dust, and cigar smoke, it made her feel less afraid and lonely as the train traveled further from her home, the vibrations from the wheels below had rocked her to sleep, and the soft music playing lulled her into the world of dreams, as the soft cushions of her seat held her body in place. For a dream that seemed like only minutes, more hours had passed, and the announcers voice over the intercom awoke her.

The train stopped at its destination with a screech as metal on metal slid to a stop, and the announcement along with the sound of the train whistles, and the patter of feet echoed through the station as a young girl stepped off the train. With her, she carried a suitcase and an old carpet bag, both in which had experienced years of use during they're previous owners travels. As she walked through the area, which was all so new to her, she bought a paper which was dated July 1st, 1924, Friday. Thneedville, only 3yrs ago it was named Greenville, and was now a big city, music poured out of every building and shop, all so wonderful, all the bright colors and lights, with the scent of baked goods, grilled food, and perfume to fill the air as it road the soft breeze that flowed through the buildings and streets, it was like a dream.

That's why it was this girls destination, she was 18, and out of house for the first time. As she walked through the town that was as bright as day in the middle of the night, the young girl read the news paper, she had always loved reading the daily paper, on the front page was vibrantly colored print announcing the grand party that would be held on the forth of July. This was defiantly a first for the girl, the papers back home were all black and white, was everything in this city just that amazing, it was defiantly catching her attention, that was for sure.

When she did manage to look up from the paper she saw how many girls were wearing colorful small dresses and expensive furs, while she was wearing plain brown pants that were baggy and hid her other wise pencil thin figure, they were pulled up to her waist and were held by black suspenders, she even wore a plain white baggy button up shirt with the too long sleeves rolled up to her elbows with worn black boots.

She was a lovely young bae, but she stood out among the other flappers in her fathers old clothes. But she liked it that way, she didn't have the need to show off her figure, if she had one, so she wore any clothes her father would hand down to her. Her long hair was tied back and was at least 2 feet past her shoulders, while all the other girls had there's cut short in a bobcut, long and pulled back was just the way she always liked it, with a bright red bandana to hold her thick locks.

Instead of feeling like an outcast, she fallowed her mother's words and held her head high, and walked through the streets, proud to be the girl she was. Now why is a small town girl like her in a big city, you may ask? She was working on a book of course, and the bae had two years to get it done, if it was good enough, it would be published, that was deal she had made. They said she had talent and creativity, but she lacked the writers experience, and if she could write a good novel in a 2yr time period, she would finally be living her dream.

As happy as the girl could be in the big city, all the walking around was getting tiring, the small town of Green Meadows was nothing compared to this huge place. The young bae soon found a place to rest for a moment, and was well relieved, the girl walked through the doors of the club, and took a seat at the bar seats, finally able to set down her bags, and rest her aching feet.

She sighed softly and leaned forward on her arms, she closed her eyes, and took in the smooth music, the soft spoken words between people as they chatted, and the soft pitter patter of feet against the tiled floor.

The old clock in the lounge struck 8 pm, and its loud gong like sound vibrated through the air, just as the soft jazz music did as it was played skillfully by a colored group. It was peaceful, and soothing to the young girl, she finally had a moment to calm herself from all her excitement. Her heart was still pounding in her chest like a drum, and her hands where a little twitchy, this town had so many new things, and so much inspiration, anyone of them could be her writing muse, how was she going to pick just one..?

She let her mind clear, and soon a new sound flowed through the air, it's soft ring, it could only have had been the bell of the door.

She could hear someone walk closer to her, for reasons unknown to her, she drowned out everything else, she focused only on that other person. The bae didn't open her eyes, she didn't move. She took a deep breath, letting go of the breath she had been holding, she could smell whine, cigar smoke, and perfume, but there was something else, something sweet. It smelled like freshly made cream, honey, and wild flowers, the only thing she could compare it to, the only title it could go by, and suit it well enough, was the sweet scent of butterfly milk.

"Can I buy you a drink Miss?" said a calm, mesmerizing voice, with a sly tone.

The girl opened her green eyes and her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks bloomed with a soft blush. Sitting next to her was a tall man, at least 7 foot 8, he had a young face, and peach colored skin, he couldn't be more then 25.

"Oh uh.. sure... I-I suppose.." she squeaked out blushing more, she really hoped he hadn't noticed her staring. "What would you like?" he asked resting his chin on his gloved palm with his elbow rested on the bar table. "Uh... Dr. Pepper I suppose... I don't drink..."

"Alrighty," The bar tender took a bottle of Dr. Pepper out of the ice chest and popped the cap off before giving it to the green eyed girl. She was so nervous to take a drink, she could feel him watching her behind dark blue tinted lenses, "What's your name..?" He asked sitting up right, he reached into his green tailcoat, and pulled out a cigar box and a golden cigar cutter, this man had money to burn. "Desiree Evergreen," she told him gripping the cold bottle in her hands. The fizzy elixir inside was ice cold, cooling her already clammy hands. Her heart was racing, and her face felt so hot, but at the same time, but her blood felt so cold, a new feeling swelled in her heart as it drummed.

"Desiree... sounds kinda French..." he said lighting his cigar, "It is... it means to be desired... and is also the name of a pink potato..." the man tried to suppress a laugh, he balled his hand into a lose fist and held it to his lips as a failed attempt to keep the laugh from escaping his lips,"So... your a desired pink potato?" he teased letting out a small laugh, Desiree pouted, she wasn't nervous anymore, just a little mad, she didn't really like being razzed, especially by a guy like him. "Mind if I call you Desi?" he asked adjusting his tall top hat that was placed over a mop of ebony black hair. "...I suppose," she said finally after taking a swing of her soda. "So what's a girl like you doin in a place like this, an all alone..?" he asked taking a long draw from his tobacco stick, "I mean, you look more like a country hay seed instead of a city slicker," the smoke poured out of his mouth a he talk, and Desi had to wave her hand to fan it away.

"I just got to this city actually," Desi said with a small hope filled smile, "I'm here because I wanna be a writer, and the publishers are giving me 2yrs to write a good novel, if its good they'll publish it." she gripped her soda, with a hopeful glint in her big green eyes, he could see how brightly her green eyes shined even through his tinted lenses, so much hope and wonder, so innocent, he blew the smoke out of his lungs, and sighed.

"Sounds like they're pulling your leg," her smile fell when he said that, with a blunt tone. "Heh... maybe..." she chuckled at the thought, it was there pushed to the back to her mind, the thought that they weren't really serious, or the possibility they might not live up to they're promise. "Then why are you going through with it...?" he asked blowing out more of the tobacco smoke. "Because..." she said sounding ready to cry, the thought hurt like a bunch of needles stabbing her heart like a pincushion, "I wanna believe that it's possible they'll publish if its good..." why was she saying these things to him? Why was she about to spill her heart to a stranger, she didn't even know his name, "I wanna go through with it because..." and yet, "...Its my dream..." she felt like he would listen, and he would care. So much self doubt filled her heart, and threatened to overflow into tears. "... If I cant at least have my dream... what else could I do...?" tears trickled down her cheeks are they burned hot, her throat tightened and she held back the need to cry out.

The mans face softened, he brought his gloved hand up to her cheek and with a gentle stroke, wiped away the hot tears, "Now now, and young girl like you shouldn't cry..." he smiled at her gently, and she couldn't help but smile back. Desi felt her worries begin to melt away, this man, he was like no one she had ever met. He was gentle, and kind, and she had only just met him, but he was being so kind to her, and this man dressed in green, was going to be her inspiration.

[baekhyunspizza]

Emergency Room

Member: Chanyeol

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: A late-night mishap lands you and an unexpected guest a visit to the emergency room. 

     “Another test, honey?” Ms. Lee asks with a sympathetic frown as I slide a tub of pistachio ice cream and a pack of Oreos across the counter. Her family owned gas station was conveniently located a two blocks from my dorm at the university, and it serves as my go-to consolement when I fall victim to the errors of Mr. Ko.

     “I just can’t catch break in my physics class. And I definitely didn’t need such a low test grade so close to Christmas. Mr. Ko couldn’t teach if his life depended on it,” I reply, the defeat clear in my voice. I actually went into the class feeling good about the material. But one poor exam and a fat red F later, I quickly learned that acceleration and velocity were not my forte.

     “Well, you tell Mr. Ko that if he keeps this up, he’s gonna have a very angry Hana Lee to deal with,” she says with a southern drawl, a teasing smile reaching her eyes.

     “I’ll make sure to relay the message. He’ll be quaking in his New Balance sneakers,” I laugh. Offering a small thanks to Ms. Lee, I grab my change and take my plastic bag from the counter. I check to make sure my barely-functioning keychain is securely attached to my belt loop, frowning at the little keys hanging onto the misshapen and cracked plastic ring. I wave once more in Ms. Lee’s direction before shuffling out of the store, a subtle chime indicating my exit.

     Small snowflakes begin to descend from the sky and I quietly thank myself for deciding to drive to the store instead of walk. Although the store is a mere two blocks from my dorm, I have enough street smarts to know that walking by myself at this time of night would be a stupid idea. That, and I’ve seen just enough episodes of Criminal Minds to make me incredibly paranoid. Just as I mentally applaud myself for my wise thinking, a warm, large hand covers my shoulder and I immediately stop in my tracks.

     “Miss,” his deep voice says.

     This is it, I think.

     It was actually happening. I knew my luck would run out eventually. I am going to die at as a broke college student, wearing my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt and my mom’s Levis from 1997. Holding a tub of pistachio ice cream.

     Why couldn’t I have an honorable death, like saving children from an oncoming bus or rescuing puppies from a burning building? I’d even settle for some sort of freak accident. But dying on a late night ice cream run is a little ridiculous. It sounds like something from a flopped murder mystery novel. I can see the newspaper headlines now. Girl Dies Buying Ice Cream from Abysmal Gas-Station. I can’t let myself die in such a humiliating situation. I have too much dignity. Clenching my jaw and balling up my fists, I wheel around on my heel and aim directly for the middle of his face.

     “What are you doi-” he asks with wide eyes, not being able to finish his question before my knuckles collide with his nose. Why don’t they emphasize how much socking someone in the face can hurt in the movies? I knew it’d sting a little, but I didn’t expect for my knuckles to feel like they were in split in half underneath my skin. Shaking out my hand to ease the pain, I look back to the man and see fresh blood gushing from his nose. His long, lanky legs stumble back and he bends over the waist, trying to avoid bleeding on his dark jeans and black converse. It drips onto the pavement in small crimson specks and I feel proud.

     Yeah, I did that. Go me.

     “Serves you right for trying to touch me, jerk,” I yell in his direction before hurriedly reaching for the handle to the driver’s door of my car.

     “You dropped this!” he hollers. The man waves a small object in his hand and I squint as an attempt to make out its shape. It catches the light of a nearby street lamp and glints a metallic pink color. Crap. Looking down at the keychain in my hand, I notice there’s only four keys instead of five. He begins to walk towards me with his palms outstretched in front of him. The universal sign of surrender.

     “I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you. You just dropped your key while you were fumbling with your bags so I was gonna return it to you,” he said, carefully pinching the petite key in between his thumb and index finger to avoid dirtying it with any blood. Up close, I see that he’s not a middle aged pervert. He’s probably only a year or two older than me. Wavy brown hair covers his forehead and his big eyes are wide with fear of being struck again.

     There have only been two other times in my life when I’ve been this mortified. Once, when I was five and had an accident on the first day of kindergarten out of nerves, and again when Bryce Taylor rejected me at the spring formal in eighth grade. But this….This might top the list. I probably just broke the nose of the guy.

     “I-I can’t believe I just did that I’m so sorry-” The words cannot come out of my mouth fast enough as I rush up to him and look up to examine his wounds.

     “Do you have anything to stop the blood?” he asks, turning his head to the side and spitting out crimson from his mouth. I rummage through my purse for anything that could possibly pause the continuous stream, but it’s a lost cause.

     “I don’t-I don’t have anything. Oh God it’s getting worse,” I start to panic as the flow seems to be getting heavier.

     “I’m driving you to the hospital.”

     “No, it should stop soon. I’ll be fine really,” he says looking at the ground, eyes widening at the large burgundy patches on the concrete.

     “No, we’re going. I’m not gonna be able to live with myself if I just leave you here with a broken nose in the snow,” I insist, leading him to my car. I unlock the passenger door and he ducks in, his height proving to be problematic inside my 1994 Honda Accord. Sliding into my seat, I ignite the engine and the vehicle roars to life.

     “I never got your name,” I say turning towards him.

     “I’m Chanyeol,” he replies, leaning his head back against the headrest.

     “Y/N. Sorry for breaking your nose,” I say sheepishly. Snow continues to fall outside, but not heavy enough to making driving difficult.

     “So...are you a student at the university?” he asks, trying to break the awkward atmosphere.

     “I’m surprised you’re being so cordial to me. But yes, I am.”

     “I figured I should get to know the person who’s driving me to the hospital. Maybe we can even be friends.”

     “But I broke your nose.”

     “I’m not one to hold grudges,” he says, and I laugh at his playful banter. I silently thank God for making him such a friendly individual.

     “Maybe. You should have my number, so you can send me any information about the hospital bill. I’d feel awful if you paid for it yourself since this entire thing is my fault.”

     “You think I’m gonna make you pay for the bill. I didn’t peg you for a jokester.’

     “I’m serious, I’d really feel better if you had it,” I insist, giving him my number in case he needs it.

     “Hey, Chanyeol?”

     “Yeah?”

     “Can you try not to get any blood on my seats? They’re leather.”

     “You broke my nose.”

     “Touché.”

--

     “Thank you, Dr. Nam. I would say I hope to see you again soon, but that wouldn’t exactly be the truth. At least, I wouldn’t want to visit again under circumstances like this,” Chanyeol says, shaking hands with the middle aged physician.

     “It’s my job, son. Maybe you’ll find a better way to approach young women at night,” Dr. Nam replies with a smile.

     “Fair enough,” Chanyeol laughs.

     I learned a couple of things about Chanyeol as we sat in the urgent care waiting room. He was a law student that grew up near the coast but moved to our small town this year to start settling down. He’s the only one in his family that decided to pursue their education and  go to college. He’s also an expert charmer.

--

     “So I never asked, but what was a pretty girl like you doing in a place like that old gas station?” he says, nudging my elbow with his. I look up from the magazine I’ve been reading to pass the time as we wait for his name to be called for a consultation with Dr. Bynes. I roll my eyes at his lame attempt to hit on me, but I smile at the corniness of it all.

     “Failed test. Needed some saturated fat and excessive sugar to ease the hurt. And what’s a pretty boy like you doing walking by himself late at night? Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger?”

     “I’d like to not become strangers.”

     “I ruined your nose.”

     “Oh please. We both know my real moneymaker is my smile,” He flashes a thousand dollar grin at me and I laugh.

     “What’s so funny?” Chanyeol asks, confused by my source of amusement.

     “It’s just an odd sight. You smiling as your nose is broken and dried blood running down your face. That, and your tooth”

     “I’m known for my nice set of chompers.”

     “I chipped it.”

     “You did not,” he says, reaching for my phone and checking his front teeth in the reflection on my screen.

     “Guess the nose wasn’t enough.”

     “You know,” he starts, “you’re making it really hard to flirt with you.”

     “So what do you think? Could I pull off this look?” Chanyeol asks as we walk back to my car. His nose is covered in white bandages and all of the dried blood has been removed from his face.

     “I don’t know, Chip. The whole mummy vibe isn’t really working in your favor,” I reply, pointing to the gauze.

     “Chip?”

     “Your tooth.”

     “Does that make you Mrs. Potts?”

     “No way. She’s old.”

     “Well, I mean based on those jeans, I wouldn’t have a hard time believing you’re a mom of four,” I hit his arm and scowl at him.

     “Hey now, I don’t need you breaking my arm too,” he says as he pretends to wince in pain and rubs the spot where I hit him.

     “Dork.”

     He just smiles, chipped tooth and all.

[juniorformulamotorsport]

Sunday, 18th November 2007 – Macau, Day 8

I made another early start on Sunday, figuring that it might be interesting to get out for the warm up at 8 am and take some pictures of the WTCC cars as well as our boys. So I set the alarm for 7, got up, and gulped down a coffee. I was outside the hotel by 7.30 (on a Sunday, when I was nominally on holiday!). The locals were up early practicing Tai Chi or something very similar round the fountain at the top of the hill. There was a breakaway individual a little further down the hill, and he seemed to be moving to the music in his head rather than that issuing from the speakers along the car park edge. Regretting that I had no time to stop and take photos of them, I headed out intending to try and get the other side of Melco. I know it can be done, but having following my nose I ended up at Dona Maria instead, which was a bit short on light given the time of day and anyway is listed as somewhere you’re not allowed to stand unless you get there (and across the track) at the start of the day, and then you’re not allowed to leave until it’s all over! I didn’t want to do that. I had other plans for the day.

That meant I had to retrace my steps until I ended up where I’d been on Thursday. It didn’t matter really – the light was different, and they’d stopped messing about and were now allowing you to stand wherever you wanted. I suspect someone from the press office had had a word or two with the officials… Anyway, I spent a happy half hour or so out there, finding that the touring cars were much more alarming at such close quarters than the F3s, probably because of the sheer bulk of them. Certainly, I was standing slightly further back when they were out there, and I didn’t feel at all inclined to hang my elbow, or any other part of my anatomy, over the barrier frankly. Anyway, I must have been close enough, because when we ran into Tiago Monteiro and Rickard Rydell wandering the streets of Macau later that day, Tiago reckoned he’d seen me there. Someone else who did was Stephen Jelley, who gave me a cheery wave on his slowing down lap (any other lap and I would have slapped him), which I actually managed to catch on camera.

I also managed to catch a long sequence of shots of Edoardo Mortara getting it all very badly wrong and slamming into the barriers at the end of the road, and then getting out and glaring at the car as if it was its fault and not his… It was quite comical, at least to a casual observer.

After the session ended I returned to the Pousada, via the Jardim de Montanha Russo, taking photos of the wonderfully gnarled, and aged trees on the way. The plan, and it was a good one, was to shower, breakfast and collect the laptop and Lynne, who had very sensibly declined to join me on the warm up. And so, ready for the main race of the day, we headed down to the press office, taking advantage of the hotel shuttle bus to get us there.

We watched the WTCC title fight being decided in favour of Andy Priaulx for the third time in as many years (and no one was more surprised than him when the two main contenders both broke down a lap from the end, thus helping him to the title – a successful driver always needs luck as well as talent and Andy seems to have more of the former than the rest of the field put together). We arrived, in fact, just as Alain Menu won the first of the two races, which meant we could still say that he only wins when Lynne is watching him. He claims this is bullshit but we keep saying it because it winds him up something rotten, which is always fun!

Anyway, with the touring cars out of the way we could all settle down to the real business of the day, the F3 Grand Prix. In previous years, access to the pitlane and grid has always been a serious issues, with only pink bib holders being allowed in the pits and pit lane, and blue bib holders being allowed on the grid only through a gate at the far end, and then only after the locals casinos, brothels and such have shepherded their girls (a mix of skinny Chinese girls and hard-faced Eastern Europeans with bad dye jobs, all wearing ridiculous plastic outfits and showing as much of their knickers as they possibly can) out there and surrounded the cars with them, so that it’s hard to get a picture without one of them appearing in it. I usually manage to avoid them, and if motorsport.com want pictures of the girls, someone else can take ‘em, not me (which was pretty much the gist of the conversation I had with team manager Michele Quaife at Carlin – as she said, she and Vicky work three times as hard as the guys in the team and have to really slog away at it to gain respect and then these creatures turn up – she wasn’t impressed and the Carlin cars notably didn’t have any hangers on around them). Anyway, I digress. This year, despite notices to the contrary, I wandered through the Double R garage (where the remains of Bruno’s car were being used as a lunch table), and into the pit lane.

I had to get out. I’d just been treated to the sight of Sebastien Buemi in his red and white flowery underwear, and no one should have to see that. Once out there no one blew a whistle at me or in any way tried to stop me. And I wasn’t the only one there. There were several of us all taking advantage of an apparent official change of heart. It was an odd but not unwelcome change. For one thing it meant there wasn’t a hideous scrum to get through the tiny gap in the safety fencing and for another it meant I managed to get to all the way to the back of the grid, and take all the photos I wanted on the way up the grid, and I still arrived back in the press office just as the five minute buzzer went warning everyone to clear the grid. I could probably even have taken photos of the Lion Dance and the drivers meeting the governor of Macau, the ritual undertaken every year before the race starts, but I was busy being waved at cheerily by Willi Weber (a slightly worrying development, frankly – I’m surprised he remembers me – we only met twice, and that very briefly) and having Bruno show me his cracked thumb (a very Technicolor bruise was developing).

I won’t re-report the race, but the podium was funny afterwards. First there was the spectacle of Kazuya Oshima discovering for himself just how heavy those lotus flower trophies are (put it this way, I wouldn’t want to lift one one-handed). Then there was the increasing disbelief on Ollie Jarvis’s face as he was handed a series of trophies by a succession of dignitaries), and finally the sight of Ollie spraying Champagne with blood pouring down his chin – he’d had trouble getting the cork out of the bottle, and as the other two went for him with their sprays, he’d ended up with his face over the bottle. The cork shot out, hit him in the face, and he put his tooth clean through his lower lip! Apparently that wasn’t the first Champagne bottle-related disaster to overtake him this year, either. He’s not normally accident prone, he was keen to stress!

Oh, and at the press conference, it became clear that Japanese dentistry may leave quite a lot to be desired (and also coincidentally that Kodai Tsukakoshi is a very odd looking critter)…

I shall digress again here – once, several years ago, Manor Motorsport were running a couple of seriously strange looking kids, of whom the Pratchett description of an Igor as a self-made man with none of the pieces fitting could be aptly used. A wet soggy race circuit somewhere and time on our hands and John Booth, the team owner, became Dr. Frankenbooth in our twisted minds. Well it looks like Kodai is another of Dr. Frankenbooth’s experiments, which make you wonder just what it is he’s trying to build up there in Sheffield!

A discussion with a team member who must remain nameless on the subject of Kodai’s apparent lack of English went along these lines: ME: ”So how does he get along with the Manor tea ceremony then?” (This consists of someone brewing up the most hideously strong tea imaginable, in Bertha, the tea pot that has never been cleaned, though it has been soldered more than once, and then someone yelling ”Tea’s up!” I should add that this is the team that ships 30 gallon containers of Yorkshire water all the way to Macau to make sure they can get a proper cuppa!). TM: ”Oh, he’s always first there.” ME: ”What does he say about it?” TM: ”He doesn’t say anything. He just smiles a lot. He’s good at smiling. With those teeth he has to be!”

Anyway, press conference over with and results published, Lynne legged it back to the hotel while I finished the report. The prize giving dinner was due to start at 19.00, which gave me just about enough time to get everything written, checked and sent. I had just typed the last sentence when Lynne reappeared, showered, changed and re-made up. I would just have to make do with cleaning my teeth, combing my hair, and changing into fresh clothes (underwear and all) in the press office toilets. The one thing we’d forgotten were shoes, so while Lynne checked the report prior to sending it, I changed into my white linen trouser suit, red sequined camisole, and… white Fred Perry trainers that I’d been in all day! It didn’t quite work, but what the hell!

Dinner was interesting. We joined Stephen and Jenny, Robert and Lindsay, Glyn, “Sticker” George, and Bruno. It was a fun table, with a great deal of hysteria, especially when the speeches started to drag and Bruno threatened to cut his wrists with w coffee spoon if they didn’t stop soon! Actually, his big problem was that he couldn’t cut anything up because of his injured thumb. We did offer to help, but he soldiered on, milking it for all it was worth.

After dinner, and after all the trophies had been handed out, there was a certain amount of silliness, including me borrowing Alain’s trophy for winning the first WTCC race of the day so I could get a picture of Sam Bird with a trophy (for his Mum to use). Alain and Sam got talking, with Alain starting it off by gesturing at me. AM: ”She always takes the piss out of me…” SB (after some consideration): ”She always takes the piss out of me too!” ME: ”That’s because I like you both…” That silenced both of them, at least for a while.

As the dinner was breaking up, we allowed ourselves to be talked into going to the BMW post-race party. The only problem was no one seemed to be too sure where it was. We knew it was somewhere that might have been called D2 or possibly Sky21… We just had no idea which of those it was. We also knew it was somewhere ”past the Lisboa” which wasn’t a great deal more helpful frankly. Anyway, we dropped the laptop bag and just about everything except a small amount of cash and a credit card in Glyn’s room at the Rio and set off in search of a party! As we were passing the Lisboa we found Danny Watts and Fiona Leggate outside also looking lost. We joined forces and eventually, after a phone call or two, we were getting closer. Eventually, we found it. And yes, it is called Sky21.There then remained only the small matter of getting in. Actually, it wasn’t a problem at all. As we walked in, the security people asked if we were there for the party, and when we said yes, they ushered us to the lift. They also asked if we had wristbands, and when we said not yet, they said someone would supply them at the door! And on the 21st floor there was indeed a party and we were handed wristbands which would allow us to get drinks. The venue was pretty stunning – two floors of a new high rise building, one floor which seemed to be very much open to the outside world. The Jelleys had snagged a table, and the Jarvises soon joined us out there too. It was beautifully cool, and the Champagne appeared to be never-ending, though the waiting staff were variable (Sam proved himself very effective at getting a round from the bar, as did Jonathan Kennard, while Yelmer Buurman – the only one of the drivers to make an effort and dress up for the pasty – took over an hour to come back with the glass of Champagne he’d promised me – and he wonders why I don’t support him!) There was some dancing, much talking, Valerie Kennard slurring her words quite badly, a rambling discussion with Mellie Jarvis, Ollie’s sister, about fanciable drivers despite the fact that she’s with Sam, and a great deal of silliness, including Tom Coronel baffling Wendy by expounding his philosophy of life or something similar. Oh and telling us his 18 month old daughter has her own web site…We’re used to him. He doesn’t worry us too much (and none of us had pockets on our clothes). Wendy , on the other hand, is probably going to avoid us in future when we’re in social situations in Macau because she always seems to end up on the receiving end of crazed behaviour from Touring Car drivers… As we attempted to leave, much, much later, we were accosted by a very happy Andy Priaulx and party, and Andy was most insistent that Lynne and I must now be part of his winning routine, as we’ve been on the same flight as him the last three years… That means, he says, that we can’t go to Bangkok or Singapore first next year. Hmm…

Someone else somewhat the worse for wear was Brendon Hartley.

He was trying to get back to the Rio but clearly had no idea how to get there. We dragged him back with us, despite his attempts to fall into the hedges or go off in other directions. After startling Walter Grubmüller (far too easy to do) getting money out of the hotel bank machine – and giving him my wristband so he could go to the party – we were ready to quit. Brendon got in the lift with us (we’d been keeping an eye on him), and he apparently got out at the right floor. At that point he ceased to be our problem. He’d only been our problem in the first place because he’s driving for our favourite team next year and we didn’t want to see harm come to him.

Our problem was trying to get a cab once we’d collected our possessions from Glyn’s room. That proved difficult. The first cab driver – who was sitting outside the Rio – tried to tell us the meter didn’t work, so we got out. The streets seemed to be otherwise deserted. We set off to walk to Sands where we knew we’d find cabs. The second cab driver – outside the Mandarin – claimed he didn’t know where we wanted to go, so we got out. Third time lucky! At Sands, we found a driver who knew what he was doing and made it back to the hotel at 4.30, which is waaay too late for oldies like us!

Travel 2007 – Macau, Day 8 Sunday, 18th November 2007 - Macau, Day 8 I made another early start on Sunday, figuring that it might be interesting to get out for the warm up at 8 am and take some pictures of the WTCC cars as well as our boys.

[halfdan-jones-blog]

Blood in the Chocolate Session 3

Fade in to an aerial shot of a small group moving across a field of white snow, some emotional piano music playing in the background. Cut to a turningshot of the characters trudging along, breathing heavily, Hsui Mei carrying Skretch’s bleeding form on her back. Her skin slowly developing a rash of tiny red sugarcrystals. Freya, supported by Mewci trudges along, But due to her rapidly expanding form even this gets harder, until Mewci has to push Freya’s round bod along.

The cold winter night nearly was their death on account of them leaving their winter coats back at the factory and going back was not an option.

By some miracle they all made it back to Leeuwarden. Chilled to the bone they stumbled in to the nearest Inn they could find. The sign said “De eend en de kelk.” The shocked innkeeper took one look at them and helped them inside. They where quickly ushered into the bathing room where the kitchen staff started filling tubs with steaming hot water for them to warm themselves. The Innkeeper asked if they needed any medical attention, or failing that a priest. The party discussed the request and came to the conclusion that they needed both, and quickly.

A short while later the doctor Gunntruck Esgerth and the dishevelled street preacher Griselda the Ranter entered the steamy room. Gunntruck asked for a five silvers diagnostics fee, per person before he would start working out any cures. This was slightly more than the characters had on them at the moment. Even though they had escaped with some swag, they had not had an opportunity to fence it. Griselda asked not for payment in money but in oaths. If she cured their ills with her magic she asked them to fast from something they where used to. Seeing an opportunity to save some money, the party agreed to Griselda’s offer first. She set about curing Freya’s Blueberry curse. Sadly Freya failed her saves against magic and was left with a promise not to kill any living being for a month for her troubles. Seeing the unreliable nature of magic, the party instead put their faith in science. After coughing up the dough and after giving the golden brooch to the doctor as insurance that they would pay him later, he set to work. He patched up their wounds, figured out a cure for Skretch’s throat disease (a pot of hot water, applied directly on the candy buildup.) and diagnoses Freya’s and Mei’s conditions to be serious enough to require surgery at his clinic. They made a plan for Freya and Mei to go directly to his clinic at dawn while Skretch and Mewci tried to fence the rest of their ill gotten gains.

Skretch and Mewci tried approaching a merchant in the market who introduced himself as Gustav Silfverspik. He took one look at the painting and knowing where it came from, tried to extort the party. Not only did he offer them a pittance for the painting, he also intimated that if they found his price unreasonable, the city guard would probably be very interested in settling the issue. At the mere mention of the fuzz, Skretch took desperate measures and tried to intimidate Gustav to keep his mouth shut. The attempt succeeded and Gustav was threatened into silence.

Instead of continuing to try and sell of their goods at the regular market the party decided to try and find a fence. So they did, in a small shack at the outskirts of town. A man by the name of Slamkrypar Sverker. A man of middling years and with a pretty nasty cough. He was much more agreeable and gave them a fair price for the goods. Flush with cash the party moved to Dr. Esgerths clinic to rejoin their friends.

Turns out that Dr. Esgerth is a pretty skilled physician and by the time Skretch and Mewci got there he had cured and patched up Mei, leaving her only with a light pink discoloration where the crystals had previously been. Freya however was a much more time consuming process, he slowly and carefully drained her of the excess berry juice. By about noon she was completely drained. She was informed that unless they found a cure, she would need more juicing in 25 hours or so. As it was she was back to normal besides the fact that her skin was a deep blue color. Happy with his services, the party paid the good doctor and got their Brooch back.

After fencing the brooch for close to it’s actual value, the party split the cash and set off for a big spending spree. Freya and Mei set of to a tailor to get themselves new sets of clothes. Freya because hers where destroyed and Mei because her where now stained by blood. Both hers and some of Skretch’s. While they wandered around, equipping themselves with proper arms and armour a messenger approached the party with a letter addressed to Freya. It was from Gustav the merchant. He apologized profusely for his treatment of them earlier and asked them to attend him at the De eend en de kelk as compensation for this treatment of them. He also hinted that he had a business proposition for them. Weary but not willing to pass up the opportunity for more cash the party decided to attend the dinner and see what Gustav wanted.

Arriving at the inn the party was lead to a private room on the second floor. Gustav rose and welcomed them with a smile. He quickly asked for wine to be served. On the party’s insistence, he got straight to the point. He told them that he had indeed recognized the painting and if they where willing to get more of them he would be willing to pay them their full price with an extra 20% on top of that. The party thought this was a splendid idea and did not react to the suspiciously good price. Unlucky for them, Gustav had other plans which manifested when everyone in the party but Freya fell asleep at the table. Gustav, quickly called for his men to seize Freya, but before they could get to her, she threw herself out the window and ran away.

Freya ran directly to the city guard who where not amused by the idea of a kidnapping inside the city. The captain took a couple of men with him and they returned to the inn. Sadly it was too late and Gustav had loaded Freya’s friends into a wagon and escaped town. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where he was going but Freya knew that on her own she had no chance of saving the others. No, she left town, walking out to the harbor barely an hours way outside of Leeuwarden.

Well there, Freya looked for the mercenary recruiters she had heard was down there. She found them and took their Sergeant aside and asked him how much his services cost. With a crooked smirk he informed her that he took one hundred silver pieces for a company of twenty men. This was a problem since Freya only had 75 sp on her. Thinking quickly she decided to play the only card she had. She said she needed 30 men to help her assault the chocolate factory. Laughing the Sergeant asked why he should send his men into such an obvious deathtrap. To this Freya replied that she would give them 75% of any treasure found. This made him take pause as he thought about the deal. After a little while he made up his mind and asked one of his men to run along and fetch their lawyer. The solicitor drew up a contract and both parties signed. Close shot of Freya and the Sergeant shaking hands.

Meanwhile we cut to the others, chained up in the back of a wagon moving across a snowy road in the waning evening sun. They tried to break free but sadly they where to well bound. As they discussed their situation in hushed tones, the wagon stopped and they could hear Gustav talking with a woman outside. The door in the back opened and Gustav and Lucia De Castillo stood there. Her eyes darted around the wagon and her mouth curled as she backhanded Gustav across the face. She screamed at him in fury and asked where Freya was. Gustav sniveled and apologized for not being able to capture her but he quickly ensured her that it was only a matter of time until he did.

As Gustav lay in the snow covered mud, Skretch ordered the mouse in his pocket to attack Gustav. Not out of any hope of killing him but with the hope of maiming his smug face. This was cut short when Lucia stomped the mouse to death with her stiletto boot. Sighing she ordered her men to take the party inside.

We cut to a few hours later when Freya and her mercenaries arrive outside the factory. They survey the situation and decide that he best course of action is for the bowmen to lay down cover fire as she and the rest of the swordsmen sneak around the factory to fall on the guardhouse from the north.

This plan goes surprisingly well as the bowmen are well outside the range of the the guard’s muskets and even when Freya and the infantry close in, they miss all their shots. The mercenaries make short work of Lucia’s guards and they move up to the front door. Freya unlocks it with the key they got from Karl Weiss and they slip inside.

We cut to Mewci, chained to a wall in a laboratory just as Lucia has injected her with something evil. Lucia caresses Mewci’s face and asks her to be quiet while the serum takes effect. Mewci declines and starts shouting for her friends. Lucia does not even hesitate to kick the girl in the stomach and seems to take immense pleasure to do so. Lucia hushes Mewci once again and turns away to continue with her experiments further down the room.

Mei and Skretches' hear Mewci’s cries and the dull thud with which they are silenced. They are locked into separate small cells in a small, bare side room to the lab. Skretch tried to squeeze his head through the bars, but they are to small for him to get through. Instead he calls a rat and asks it to sneak under the door and inform him what’s on the other side. The rat sniffs the air and says that something on the other side smells very appetizing. Ignoring this, Skretch still sends the rat out. As it enters the lab it looks over to Mewci and tries to bite her. With a small yelp, she kicks the rat which flies and lands in the fire under one of the many bubbling cauldrons littering the room.

Freya leads the mercs’ through the first few rooms of the factory. They are eerily quiet. They move up to the door of the chocolate river room and see that the door which Skretch hacked up has been replaced. Remembering what happened last time, Freya asks one of the merc’s to open the door. He does so, finding it open but triggering the gas trap in the process. As the cloud dissipates, he seems fine however, for now. Freya steps through the door first and is immediately ambushed by about 10 pygmies that have set up defenses throughout the room. This turned into a long, epic fight as the mercs’, unused to the situation are stung by bees, slipped on the wet grass and fell into the scalding river. Peppered by blow darts all the while.

As the chaos erupts upstairs a pygmy runs into the lab to fetch Lucia. As she is left alone, Mewci stretches her foot out as far as she can and starts to slowly move one of the tables closer to her. It takes a few minutes, but in the end she stands up and begins to survey the alchemical apparatuses on the table, looking for anything she can use to escape her bonds.

Skretch and Mei together tries to bend the bars of Skretch’s cell to allow him to escape. As Skretch leaves the room he steps to close to Mewci and fails his magic save. She smells so delicious. He wants to eat her! He moves up, licking his lips, seeing the rat man advancing, Mewci grabs a random beaker from the table and throws it at Skretch!

Hearing the sound of battle outside, Mei activates her exasperation. The gods take pity and she finds a secret door leading away into the darkness.

The fight outside turned into a slow pitched battle as the mercs’ moved up and started dislodging pygmies from their defensive positions. Just as the battle looks to be turning in their favor, Lucia arrived with reinforcements. She takes up her pistol and tries to execute the Sergeant but misses. Freya sees her and orders the archers to fire on the fat woman. Most of the arrows miss or only glance of her chain under shirt. Enough of them hit however to drop Lucia to 2 hp. Fearing for her life, Lucia retreats, leaving her minions to continue the fight. Without her, the pygmies morale quickly breaks and they flee back into the factory. Everyone takes a deep breath and rests for a little while, seeing to the wounded and counting the dead. This skirmish took 12 mercenaries all counted. All but a few of them archers. Freya orders the mercenaries to secure the room and prepare for the next attack. She takes the Sargent, 2 archers and 2 swordsmen with her into the boat moored on the beach and rides it down the tunnel.

Mei follows the secret tunnel which ends in another door which opens up to the chocolate river. Looking up and down the tunnel she can see a dock to the south and a ramp to the north which the chocolate is flowing down. She figures out that he has no chance of swimming to the dock in her condition. All seems hopeless just as the sounds of combat echo down the tunnel and she sees the corpses of soldiers floating down the river. Figuring out that it must be Freya, here to rescue them.

Her spirits lifted, Mei takes a jump and tries to balance on the corpses as they float down river. Amazingly she succeeds and reaches the dock unscathed. Well there she opens the first door she comes across and see what is happening in the lab.

Skretch dodges the first beaker and it splashes the wall behind him with a sizzling sound. He moves in and begins to attack the poor elf girl. Mewci for her part fends of the crazed rat man and smashes another beaker across his face. This one was full of chocolate Liqueur. This strange concoction makes Skretch’s eyes bleed and he falls to the ground screaming. Seeing the sizzling and acrid smoke rising from the splash, Mewci takes another beaker with the same liquid in it and uses to to melt the chains. She is now free and tries to move away from Skretch. He wipes the blood from his eyes and makes another attack. This one hits and Mewci is knocked to the ground. Seizing the opportunity Skretch digs his claws into her belly and begins to consume her, crying all the while. Seeing this, Mei falls to the ground, also crying uncontrollably just as Freya and her soldiers arrive at the dock.

Notes: I was really impressed by Freya’s player’s gambit with the mercenaries. I definitely didn’t expect it. The Bonus xp rules meant that Mewci and Mei where around 700 xp from leveling up. Much to Mewci’s players dismay. This was her first time playing an RPG and her first character death. She was understandably bummed out. We talked a little if the group felt that cannibalism was going overboard, but in the end everyone was cool with it. We sat down at the end and rolled up a new character for next time and i’l l be damned if she didn’t roll a pretty decent array. Which in this group means her new character is pretty exceptional. Next session we will be introducing Zonya Koslov, Pirate Halfling, extraordinaire.