#these were a late secret santa gift... great opportunity to finally get the ideas i had for fanart out of my head lol

[mothcpu]

art of @zachtoplasm's Hotel Purgatorio

[127-mile]

Oh sweet Christmas.

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader.

Genre: Christmas, established relationship / angst if you squint, fluff.

Warnings: Food. (they make christmas cookies)

Word count: +1.8k.

Plot: Taeyong has to work for Christmas, a time you usually take to enjoy a little trip around. But he makes up for it.

A/N: This is part of @lucaswithnoshirt​ and @bumblebeenct​‘s secret santa event (@neoculturechristmas​) Happy holidays guys! 

Hello hello, @meow-bebe​! 

Nice to meet you, let me introduce myself, I am Émi, also known as your secret santa! Working on your gift was a lot of fun, and I hope you’ll like it, even though it’s def not great. I want to wish you happy holiday despite these weird times. I hope you’ll enjoy yourself! Please take care of yourself, and stay safe out there. 

From John boss at 7:53pm: Hi Yong, is it still okay for the 25th? To John boss at 7:58 pm: Yeah, you can count on me! From John boss at 8:05 pm: Perfect, I owe you big time.

You know looking at your boyfriend's phone is not good, but when you see Johnny's name pop up on the screen, you can't help it. It's not that you don't trust Taeyong, it's just that you do not appreciate seeing a message from his boss at such a late hour. And then, it'll teach Taeyong a lesson about leaving his phone unlocked on the coffee table.

"Taeyong, are you working on the 25th?" you ask with a frown, and Taeyong who had his head half stuffed in the oven to take a look at his Christmas cookies straightens up. He has flour on the collar of his black t-shirt, and you refrain from rolling your eyes. "Huh?" he asks, and you sigh. "Johnny asked you if it was still good for the 25th. Taeyong, you must be joking!" you mumble, and Taeyong comes out of the kitchen, rubbing his hands on his sweatpants.

"Did you look at my phone?" he suddenly asks while retrieving it to lock it after reading Johnny's answer. "What the hell?" you shake your head as you sit down on the sofa, your arms crossed against your chest. "Well, it was a good idea, otherwise I would have had the surprise of not seeing you on the 25th! Damn Taeyong, you know how look it took me to have a day free of work so that we could do stuff!"

"We've been going out on the 25 every year for 5 years, it's okay if we don't do it today. Johnny really needs me." he explains, and you shake your head. "Yeah, it's true that we have so much free time to do it outside of the Christmas holidays." you get up from the sofa, and are about to head for the bedroom when Taeyong grabs your wrist to stop you. You turn to him with a weak sigh. "Taeyong, please."

He shakes his head, and he entangles your fingers. "Johnny is going to propose to his partner on the 25th, that's why he can't go to work, otherwise you know very well he wouldn't have asked me to replace him." you growl in frustration. "You couldn't say it before, instead of making me believe our Christmas getaway meant nothing to you."

Taeyong turns to you fully, and he cups your face. His hands are warm, and they have a sweet smell. "We had our first date on December 25th, so of course that date means something to me. It was the day I realized how I love I was with you. It was also the first day of the rest of my life." you roll your eyes and you lean into the touch of Taeyong's hands whose eyes brighten.

"And I know this year will be different, but I promise I'll make up for it." he says, and you nod, you know he will do whatever it takes to make up for this day. You know him. "You better!" he laughs softly and leans in to place a long, tender kiss on your lips. "How about you help me decorage the cookies?" he asks, and you tilt your head. "You must be really mad at yourself for offering me this."

Taeyong is a sweetheart, but if there's one thing you are not allowed to do, it's touch his famous Christmas cookies. He spends too much time in the kitchen making them to watch them being ruined by your hands, which are much less gentle than his. "Take the opportunity before I change my mind." he says in a whisper, and you laugh as you take a step back. You do not waste a moment to go to the kitchen.

Taeyong follows you, and he takes the cookies out of the oven. As usual, they are perfect, and the small that scents the kitchen is absolutely delicious. Perhaps this is what you prefer during the Christmas season. Taeyong's homemade sweets, and the smell of the apartment that mingles with that of the fire crackling in the fireplace. It is in these moments that you realize how much you love your life with Taeyong.

You sit down on the counter, waiting for the cookies to cool. Taeyong walks up to you and puts his hands on your thighs, his head tilted to the side. "You know I love you uh?" he asks, and you nod. "Of course I know it, you say it quite often. It becomes moreover concerning, you are obsessed with me, aren't you?" Taeyong lets his head drop, and you see his back shaking with his silent laughter. "You are unbelievable. Unable to take my love with adding a comment."

You put your index finger under his chin to foce him to keep his gaze on you. "I love you too Taeyong, more than anything in the world." Taeyong's smile is worth every declaration of love, and if that's what it takes to see him smile like that, you'll do it more often. You poke your infex finger of your free hand in his cheek. "Even after five years you are still blushing so much. That's cute!"

Letting him know is enough to make Taeyong blush even more, and you chuckle. He shakes his head before turning his back to you. "Enough, we have cookies to decorate for the neighbors." And besides being a sweetheart, he has such a big heart. Sometimes you wonder what you did in your previous life to deserve a man like Taeyong, but you know it had to be something good. "Yes sir!"

From a cabinet, Taeyong pulls out a variety of cookie decorations, and you watch him as you step off the counter. You take advantage of him not paying you the slightest attention to take a cookie, but when you slip it into your mouth to bite into it, Taeyong turns. He has a disapproving look on his face, and he puts his hand on his hips. He looks strangely like your mother when she was ready to lecture you when you were younger.

"I said we were going to decorate them, not eat them, Y/n!" he comments, and you shrug before finally eating a piece of the cookie before smiling. It's sweet, and full of butter, with a touch of a spice you do not recognize -Taeyon's secret- and it's perfectly to your taste. "It's so good Yongie, I can't help it!" he rolls his eyes and takes the rest of the cookie. "Hey! It's mine!" he sticks his tongue out, like the child he always is deep inside, and he eats the cookie. "You're right, it's delicious, I'm so good."

You stand beside Taeyong and observe the various decorations. It's colorful, and you are suddenly excited. "You know, you should quit your job, and open a bakery. I'm sure you would kill it!" the boy nudges you in the ribs, and you squeal. "So that you can work with me, and eat all the pastries before I have time to sell them?" he asks, and you nod vigorously. "Yeah, that's the plan!"

Taeyong laughs, and the next few minutes are much calmer. He is humming to whatever song is playing on the TV, while he is decorating, and too busy watching him do it with ease, you almost forget that you, too, have to give him a hand. Taeyong notices, of course, he is not stupid, he can feel your gaze on him, but this time he is not blushing under the attention, on thre contrary, he is smirking.

He dips his finger in the vanilla frosting he made earlier today, and he rubs it on your cheek. You open your eyes wide, and he bites his lower lip as he awaits for your immediate reaction. "Hey! We don't play with food, you said it yourself!" you try to be serious, but it's way too difficult with Taeyong holding his stomach because of his laughter.

"Technically, it's not food, it's decoration." he explains, out of breath. His tummy hurts, but he doesn't care. As for you, you pout as your turn to your cookies. You wipe the frosting off your cheek with your fingers, and you are not a person who likes to spoil food, so you stick your fingers in your mouth to kill it clean. "It's really good, Tae. But..."

Taeyong takes a step back when he sees you pick up icing on your clean fingers. "But I'm sure it would be even more good here.." Before you have time to put the frosting on Taeyon's nose, the boy quickly goes out of the kitchen. "No! We don't play with food!" he says in a loud voice, raising his hands in front of him for protection. He pulls back as you approach, but when the back of his knees come in contact with the edge of the sofa, he knows he is screwed.

"Technically, it's not food, it's decoration." you say the same way as Taeyong, and he lowers his arms with a sigh. "Come on, go ahead, do it, I'm sacrificing myself for a good cause." ever so dramatic, you think as your rub the icing on Taeyong's nose. He looks stupid now, and he makes a sound of disappointment, but it makes you laugh. "We're even now, you can come back to the kitchen."

You jump back into the kitchen, and wash you hands in the sink. Less than a minute later, you hear the footsteps of Taeyong who stops behind you. You feel his arm sneaking around your waist, and he rests in chin on your shoulder. He has his eyes closed, and unlike earlier, his breathing is calmer. "Thank you." he says suddenly, and you frown. "Thank you for being my home."

Normally, you would roll your eyes at his words, but instead, you smile sweetly; "Christmas makes you really sweet, yeah?" Taeyong nods, nestling his face in the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent. You stay like that for a few minutes, and you let yourself be rocked by the constant movement of his chest against your back. "You don't have to thank me Yongie, it's normal." you whisper.

You turn your head to place a kiss on his forehead, but when you move, Taeyong's nose brushes against your cheek, and the frosting ends up once more on your skin, and you whine loudly. "Did you plan it?" he nods, and he detaches himself from you, not without placing yet another kiss on your lips. "I love you Y/n, I really do." you know he is playing with your heart strings to not be yelled at, but you let yourself be fooled. "I love you even more Taeyong."

[allsassnoclass]

hi hazel!! how about “i got you for secret santa so i got you this really expensive but sentimental gift that you’ve always wanted, hoping you’ll never find out it’s from me - and that i’ve been in love with you 1234567 years” with hmmmm mashton? maybe? feels mashton-y to me but whatever u think works best is good with me <3 love you <3

anything for you Iba <3

Ficmas day 10

Rating: T for language

Read on AO3

Getting Ashton for Secret Santa is both a blessing and a curse: a blessing because Michael already knows what he wants to give him, a curse because he wants to give him the world.  Well, more accurately he wants to give him the entire universe.

Ashton Irwin is arguably the universe’s finest creation, founded on stardust and made up of infinite galaxies.  Michael has been in love with him since around the time they met.  Ashton deserves something as wonderful and celestial as himself, but that would require Michael to suddenly develop the ability to trap the universe in the palm of his hands, cradled close until he could hand it off to someone worthy enough to hold it.  Even if he could, the universe seems like a fragile thing.  He’d probably drop it, knowing him.

Maybe getting Ashton was more of a curse than a blessing.  If he can’t give him some sort of celestial body, he’s out of ideas.  It’s probably for the best, because he’s not exactly keen on letting Ashton know that he’s been in love with him for so long, and you can’t give someone the entire universe without prompting a few questions.

He seeks out Calum for advice, because Calum is great at gifts, but he doesn’t want him to know who he got so he asks what he would give Luke instead.

It turns out Calum is so great at gifts because he knows exactly what each person needs.  Knowing what Luke needs does nothing to help Michael figure out what to get Ashton.

Michael spends a lot of time googling stuff like good gifts for friends and good gifts for crushes and then backtracks, because most of those imply that he would be revealing his crush.  The search for good gifts for someone you’re in love with who is also one of your best friends WITHOUT letting them know you love them but still the best present yields no useful results.  Michael doesn’t want to regurgitate generic “sentimental” gifts suggested in lists on various websites, he wants something that Ashton will truly appreciate.  He wants to get him something that only someone who knows him would give him.

He’s pretty sure buying presents isn’t supposed to make you want to pull out all of your hair, but Michael wants to pull out all of his hair.  The one solace is that they selected their people early, so he still has a lot of time to figure out a suitable present.

-/-

Michael mostly forgets about the stresses of Secret Santa for a while.  He has to get presents for other people, too, so he focuses on that, and decorating the house, and baking some Christmas cookies, and everything except Ashton’s present.  Unfortunately, this means that by the time Ashton hosts his yearly It’s a Wonderful Life watch party, it’s late enough that Michael should start panicking a little.

Each year, Ashton invites as many friends as can fit in his basement over to watch his favorite Christmas movie.  He used to watch it with his mom every year, and even though they live physically far apart he once told Michael that it makes him feel closer to her.  Over the years, the night has turned into an entire event.  Ashton sets up a projector and prepares more snacks than can be eaten.  Michael attends every year, even though the movie seems to get longer every time he watches it.  Last year he kept dozing off, enough so that Ashton had let him curl on the couch with his head in his lap and sleep for most of the second half.  The weight of Ashton’s hand resting on his shoulder and the occasional gentle fingers brushing over his hair are something Michael thinks about often.

This year he ends up in an armchair, Luke between his legs on the floor and Ashton all the way on the other side of the room.  It makes him focus on the movie a bit more, and during the scene where George asks what Mary wants and says he’ll lasso the moon Michael thinks yeah dude, you get it.

Unfortunately he is not George and Ashton is not Mary, and by the time he leaves his house that night, lingering late enough that Ashton offers to let him stay, he is no closer to figuring out his gift.

-/-

Michael can’t lasso the moon, but maybe he was onto something there.

He can’t stop thinking about space.  Ashton has always had an appreciation for it, but since his trip to the desert where he was finally able to see the Milky Way unobstructed he’s developed a new fascination with it.  He’s not going to be an astronomer, but he knows more about constellations than Michael does, and he knows a lot about astrology even if he doesn’t fully believe in it.

Michael has wanted to give him the universe this entire time.  Maybe instead of finding a different present, he should focus on figuring out a way to do that.

Maybe he should just get Ashton one of those model solar system kits that kids assemble for science projects.  That would be giving him the universe in a punny way that he might appreciate, but then he’ll have to explain that give you the universe was his original goal, which will still prompt questions.  Without that sentiment, it’s kind of a crummy gift.

He needs something that isn’t punny but that manages to accomplish his goal without revealing that he’s in love.  He’ll find a way to accomplish that out of sheer stubbornness if he has to.

-/-

Schedules don’t properly align for a full group Secret Santa exchange, so everyone is tasked with contacting their present recipient and setting up a time to give them their gift.  Michael sends Ashton a text that reads hey when do you want your secret santa present and gets a string of emojis in response.  Eventually he manages to wrangle a time from him and loads the present into his car.

It’s a decent gift, in his opinion.  He’s both relieved and nervous about having to give it to Ashton without the full group, because there’s significantly less people who can judge him but there’s significantly more opportunity for Ashton to ask uncomfortable questions.

The drive feels longer than it should.  That doesn’t bode well.

Michael lets himself in once he gets to the house, because there’s no telling where inside Ashton might be.  He calls his name and gets an answer in the direction of the bedroom, toeing off his shoes and getting rid of his coat before setting off towards his destination.  Ashton is sitting on the bed, scribbling something furiously in a journal.  Michael waits until he’s done and tosses the small leather book aside to fully enter the space.

“Hi,” Ashton says, beaming.

“Hi,” Michael says.  “Special delivery.”

The package in his hands is rectangular and flat, covered with shiny red and green paper.  Ashton eyes it curiously, taking it when offered and frowning at the weight.

“There’s a few parts, so be careful,” Michael says.

“I will.”

Ashton tears through the paper inelegantly, strips of it floating down to the floor, and Michael watches him read the framed certificate on top.

“I got you a star,” Michael says.  “That’s the certificate for it, and it’s under your name in a database.  There’s a star map, so you can try to find it the next time you have a clear sky.”

“Michael, this is amazing,” Ashton says, aglow with enthusiasm.  “This is so fucking cool!”

He looks at the star map, eyes tracking over the many tiny dots on it and the one circled that’s his.

“Wow.  My very own star.”

It wasn't quite the whole universe or lassoing the moon, but Michael thinks he did alright given the circumstances.

The next frame is a bit bigger, a blue background with a white star chart and lettering at the bottom that reads July 7, 1994 - a star is born.

“Tell me something, boy,” Ashton croons.  “Which one of us is Lady Gaga and which one of us is Bradley Cooper?”

“Neither of us,” Michael sighs.  He wants to facepalm.  He knew this was a risk when he put that inscription.  “Did you even watch that movie?  You want us to end up like them?”

“No,” Ashton says.

“You’re the star,” Michael says.  “It’s a map of the sky when you were born.  I thought it was a fitting caption.”

“Aw,” Ashton says.  “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You don’t have to make fun,” Michael says, embarrassment flaring inside him.  This was a last-minute decision off one of those generic lists, and he’s regretting it.  Getting teased for his crush was not something he anticipated nor wanted today, especially since Ashton should know better.

“I’m not making fun,” Ashton says, tearing his eyes away from the chart to look up at Michael and frown.  “You just compared me to an actual celestial body.  That’s really fucking sweet.  The only thing sweeter would be if someone wrote me a proper love song.”

Michael could try his hand at that.

He shrugs.

“It’s almost romantic,” Ashton says.  Michael’s breath freezes in his chest.  Ashton puts the gifts down on his bed and shifts so he can face Michael fully, eyes assessing.

“Do you have feelings for me?” he asks.

Brush it off, Michael tells himself.  Laugh and call him bro and say you don’t.

There seems to be a communication delay between his mind and his body, because Michael doesn’t do any of those things.  He stands there like a deer in headlights, paralyzed the longer Ashton looks at him.

“It’s okay if you do,” Ashton says.  “I just want to know.”

Well what the fuck is he supposed to say to that?

No!

What comes out sounds more like a choking cat.

“Okay,” Ashton says.  “You want to sit down?”

Again the answer is no, but that word seems to have left his vocabulary, so he sinks onto the bed next to Ashton.  He reaches out a gentle hand and places it on his forearm.

“You know, you not saying anything is making me nervous, but I’m just going to keep going.  You can tell me to stop at any time,” Ashton says.  “I like you, and I’ve been getting the impression that you like me, too.  If that’s wrong, then correct me, but if that’s right then you don’t have to be embarrassed or upset, because it’s mutual.”

Michael turns the words over in his head, giving them a second perusal to ensure he had heard correctly.

“What?”

“Oh, he speaks,” Ashton says dryly.

“I was not picking up any vibes from you,” Michael says.  “Now you expect me to believe you like me?”

“Well it’s not like I wanted you to know,” Ashton says.  “Seriously, do you think I let anyone sleep through It’s a Wonderful Life?  You got lucky last year because I like you.”

Now that he thinks about it, Ashton might have a point.  Other people who doze off get food thrown at them with the excuse that they should have stayed home if they were planning on sleeping.

“Huh,” Michael says.

“So,” Ashton says, “do you like me?  You never actually confirmed it.”

“Oh.  Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Look, I’m processing a lot right now.  I bought you a fucking star, Ashton.  Use your context clues.”

“Use my context clues?  What are you, my literature teacher?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Nice.  That was smooth.

Ashton smiles.  Just like that, the bridge Michael was standing on made of their banter melts into a gooey mess, dropping him into a bunch of sappy feelings below.  He could bask in that smile forever, shining brighter than all of the stars in the sky.

“That sounds good to me,” Ashton says.  Michael smiles shyly back, something that makes Ashton’s eyes crinkle at the edges.  He reaches out and squeezes his hand, something he’s going to be able to do freely now, and Ashton tangles their fingers together.

All things considered, Michael thinks he one-upped George Bailey here.  George said he was going to lasso the moon and then didn’t even do that.  Michael bought Ashton a whole fucking star and got his own star in return.  He’s probably the luckiest man in the universe.

[softlyjiminie]

last christmas | p.j.m

⇢ paring(s): park jimin x reader, brother!kim taehyung.

⇢ word count: 10.1K ( rip mobile users. )

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, slow-burn romance, imaginary friend!au, idol!au.

⇢ summary: you couldn't remember the last time you’d smiled, especially at christmas. a time for cheer and joyfulness, but for you a reminder of what was lost. you couldn't remember the last time you smiled, that is until, park jimin came along. 

⇢ warning(s):  please read! mentions of death, mentions of car accidents, mentions of surgeries and blood (transfusions), swearing, heavy angst (promise there’s a happy ending on this).

⇢ author’s note(s): merry christmas everyone! I finally present myself as ginger and here is my secret santa gift for @fantasybangtan as part of the @btswriterscollective​ secret santa project! i hope you enjoy it! this fic is loosely based of off the christmas movie ‘last christmas’, but you don't need to have seen it to understand <3

“hello? hellooo? hello!” 

you snap back to your unfortunately reality, the sound of the customer’s voice piercing right through your day dream. she gives you a menacing stare as if she’s taunting you with a fight. you take a step back, keeping your head down as you address her, “hi how can i help you?” you ask, doing your best to seem enthusiastic, after all, you are working a late shift during the holidays. you know that the owner needs it to bring in extra cash, it ensures the cafe will survive the winter.

“god, what does it take to get some service around here?” 

unimpressed, the customer rolls her eyes and places an order. she watches you with disgust as you walk away, her  eyes are burning holes into the back of your neck. you have half a mind to spit into the froth of her latte, but you can’t risk losing another job so close to christmas. fixing the lid on the latte, you almost jump in shock as your phone vibrates in your pocket. the scalding brown liquid jolts out of the cup, burning your fingers and causing you whimper in pain. you place the cup down on the counter and suck the coffee off of your fingers. 

“hello?” you chirp into the phone, keeping your voice low in order not to make a scene. the customer is jeering behind you, becoming irate but you ignore her in favour for the searing burns forming on your fingers. 

the call rustles slightly before connecting fully, allowing you time to throw a look over your shoulder at your colleague who’s trying to calm customers down. “YN...? oh my- hey! you picked up!”

“what is it taehyung?” you can’t help but growl at your younger brother, the tone in your voice coming off as a sneer. you know that if you were back home, the boy’s boxy grin would have faltered. you flinch with guilt, knowing he only means well. he misses you. “i mean...how can i help you tae tae?” 

your voice softens as does your face when you press the phone closer to your ear, you can sense his hesitance you speak. taehyung doesn’t want to mess up and not hear from you again. you’d only hopped since moving out of town that you would become less of a burden to your family, distancing yourself for a reason. 

“mum wants to know when you’re home for christmas...” the younger boy whispers sadly into the phone, causes making you grip the device tightly and hold it away from your ear. you take a deep breath and hope it can’t be heard down the line.

“i’m really sorry pal,” you start, half apologetically. you let a lie twist in your mind to excuse yourself from the phone and get back to your work, you don’t want to deal with your helicopter parent of a mother and worrying brother. “i gotta get back to work, i’ll text you later.” 

it was a simple white lie. “ah...okay... i love you.” 

“love you too tae.” 

you hang up the phone as quickly as possible, shoving the sleek device back into your apron pocket. taking the semi cold latte, you hand it over the customer hurriedly and take down the price for having her wait so long. she pays by card, glaring at you before turning to her friends. “you’d think the workers here would be more competent.” 

you’re tired, you’ve been on your feet all day and now guilt crawls your mind and feasts on it due to the treatment of your brother. this customer is getting on your last nerves, you can’t help it when you curse at her from under your breath. by some cruel twist of fate the lady with the over the top and probably fake fur coat marches her way back over to you. her eyes speak a million venomous words and you barely have any time to react before she’s dumping her latte all over you.

you barely have time to react, wiping your eyes of the creamy liquid. god you hated this time of year.

after cleaning up and changing into a spare pair of clothes from the employee backroom, you’re sent home for the rest of the week. your boss apologises profusely for the fussy customer and helps bandage up the burns from earlier. working is impossible with injured hands, you’ll be back when you’re better. but for now, a dark grey cloud of demotivation hangs above your head like an ornament on a Christmas tree, without work you have nothing to do. out of a job for three days and no paid leave. it couldn’t be a worse time, with you needing to send gifts and pay bills over the christmas period.

life really had it out for you. 

sighing, you continue your trek into the cold and burry your cheeks into the safety of your winter jacket. you hate the cold with a burning passion (how ironic) and you know your mother would disapprove of the thin uniform and worn down jacket you wear to work. it does nothing to protect you from the frost that nips at your nose. 

the floor is icy, soaking though your beat down shoes and into your socks, nonetheless you pay no mind as you trudge home, passing the winter market. your heart is set on drowning in blankets and watching old movies with yourself, so focused on a night in that you don’t realise the stranger heading right for you. 

“hey! watch out!” you squeal but you’ve already collided with the man, who’s spiralling to the floor and slipping on the icy sidewalk. with his flailing hand locked in your grip you manage to stop the stranger from hitting the floor, but somehow he’s knocked his head on the way down. “oh my god...are you... are you okay?” 

hot breath forms cloudy puffs in the night air while the man tames his breathing. normally, you would have given the culprit a death glare and kept it moving but something within you is telling you to stay. crouching on your knees, you hope to the heavens that you haven’t killed the guy and wave a hand in front of his face.  “fine, fine...just please stop touching me, you might make it worse.” he mumbles softly, pulling back from you as if your clumsiness will cause him more pain than wanted.

you frown and back away a little bit, weary of causing anymore damage. “right, sorry uh-...” you trail off in search of his name, in which he replies with a short ‘jimin’. “jimin! yes! i’m really sorry, we should probably get your head checked out but the A&E can get really busy around this time...”

without much thought, you offer jimin your hand to pull him to stand, the grin that’s paired with it is sheepish. “that’s okay,” jimin hums and pulls off his seemingly expensive looking fur hat. he dabs his fingers under the fringe of his cotton candy tinted hair and gasps at the small spots of blood that stain his fingertips. your eyes drift down to the cursed crimson marks on his hand, making you gasp as you slap a hand over your mouth. “i can probably get this patched up somewhere else.” 

this is it, this is your opportunity to make it up to this...rather handsome looking man. now that you’re staring (you should probably stop before it gets weird), you notice how pretty the stranger-jimin- actually is. his features are sloping and dainty under the yellow hum of the street lamps, his droopy eyes seem warm and inviting and the curve of his lips make you want to- “i could! i could...patch you up” you catch yourself before you start to drool, sending your gaze elsewhere. “i live not too far from here, and it beats waiting in a hospital all night?” 

jimin smiles brightly at your suggestion, moon crescent eyes crinkling at the corner and you swear your heart beats a little faster. maybe life, was, on your side. “that’s awfully kind of you, thank you miss-?” 

“YN,” you smile and start to lead him towards your home. “YN is fine.” 

“thank you, YN.” jimin replies sweetly, following you. 

you almost forget your fingers are still intertwined.

now that you think about it, inviting a complete stranger into your tiny apartment probably wasn’t the best idea. after all, all you had to go by was a pretty name and a ridiculously handsome face. 

you live alone and have never even met your neighbours, so if he did happen to be some kind of psycho, no one would ever find you. 

great. 

standing in the kitchen, you can’t help but stare at jimin and observe the way he takes in his surroundings. he’s almost jovial, like a child, but in a cute sort of way. you were supposed to be making hot chocolate, at least that’s what jimin thought when he turned his head and caught your gaze from the living room. the pink haired male giggles quietly as you blush, having been caught gawking, and duck your head to avoid his honey eyes.

“thank you,” jimin mumbles as he sips on the festive drink once it’s made, the heated liquid warms him from the inside out and he hums in content when the sweet chocolate hits his tongue. “ykno, for bandaging me up and letting me sit down for a bit.” 

you blow lightly on your own not chocolate, shaking your head. “not at all, it’s the least i could do for almost knocking you out.” you tilt your head up at the patch on his forehead, the cut hadn’t been too deep and you were able to clean it out with some disinfectant. 

the chuckle that flows from jimin’s lips is like a lullaby in itself,  making you sighs dreamily. “maybe it would have knocked some sense into me...i don’t even remember how i got to the market and i feel like i’m a bit far from home.” jimin ponders out loud, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as you tuck your knees into your chest to sit more comfortably. it wouldn’t be very smart of you, but if jimin was lost and needed a place to stay, then who were you to send him back onto the streets? he didn’t seem like a mass murderer, he’s cute and after all you could use the company.

seems like a perfect idea!

“hey jimin... why don’t you stay with me for a while?” you suggest quietly, grasping his attention as he looks at you with raised brows. “i mean just until you figure out where you’re going next, after all i did give you a pretty nasty scar and hotels around here can be expensive around this time of year...”

you start to babble, scared by his shocked reaction. you’re so far gone into your rambling that you don’t realise how jimin has jumped up and is now holding your hands in his. “that’s so kind of you YN, i’d love to take you up on that offer, as long as i’m not imposing.” he whispers appreciatively, stars glistening in his coffee-black eyes.

you shake your head slowly, captivated by the way he’s looking at you. 

“not at all jimin, don’t worry, you wouldn’t be.” 

the male with the dusky skies weaved into his shining locks only smiles again, enveloping you in a grateful hug as he whispers a small ‘thank you’. you gently lay his back, feeling a sense of familiarity and warmth settle in your chest. 

you embrace the hug and dismiss the feeling, making a mental note to get more blankets for jimin. he’s freezing. 

you room seems suspiciously cold when you rouse from the pits of sleep the following morning. faint memories from the night before fill your head while you rub the sleep from your eyes. you remember burning your fingers, bumping into a stranger and inviting jimin into your home.

jimin! 

scrambling up, you wrap the blankets around yourself while the fabric bunch at your ankles. you trudge down the hall way, and at a stop where your kitchen is, frowning at the wide-open back door. the outside is coated in a thick blanket of heavy snow, and you realise why it was so cold. “jimin, hello? anyone there?” you call and receive no response. panics shoots down your spine, what if jimin had been a crazy psychopath? what if he’d stolen some of your belongings and was pawning it off right now? you gasp in terror and rush forward to lock the door. 

foot steps from afar cause you to jump and you grab the nearest thing to you (an empty mug), preparing to defend yourself against the potential serial killer in your house.

the kitchen door opens and you whack the intruder in the stomach with the mug, dropping it when you spot tufts of soft rose hair from underneath the beanie. “oh my god jimin! i thought you were an intruder!”

he doubles over in pain and you catch him just before he falls to the ground, the second time in 24-hours that you’d injured the poor guy. the pink haired man gives you a thumbs up, wavering away your apologies and ‘how can i make it up to you’s “it’s fine...i should have told you that i popped outside for a bit,” jimin explains and sits down to rub at his tummy with an endearing pout “and don’t worry, i’m pretty sure i’m not a serial killer.” 

his light laughter and the warm feeling in your chest put your mind at ease. “that’s exactly what a serial killer would say,” you taunt back and lean over to fix jimin’s hat over his hair, noting the pink rosey tint to his cheeks and nose from where he’d been out in the snow. “why were you out there anyways?” 

“i wanted to see the snow, we don’t have much where i’m from.” he says, an icy chill spreading from where you touched him to down your spine. you pull back and lock down at your hands, rubbing them together. why was he so cold? 

you furrow your eye brows at his distant look. “where are you from jimin?” 

“somewhere in seoul, i travel a lot.” jimin turns to look at you, frowning as if he’s not quite sure if his own answer. you choose not to pry, instead moving onto asking him more generic questions, just to get to know him a little bit. 

“you’re so weird.” you say after an hour of sitting on the floor with him, talking about everything and anything. 

jimin smiles, crescent moon eyes reminding you of clear starry nights and shooting stars as the snow builds up outside. “aren’t the weirdest people, the best kind of people?” 

you hum for a moment, pondering silently. “i guess why are.”

that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

as it turns out, jimin was stranded in your home for a few more weeks, possibly until christmas. the news reported heavy snowfall and freezing temperatures for the coming weeks, leading to most couples being wrapped up warm with cosy nights in.

you however, were stuck working more late nights and long hour shifts, missing out on all the the holiday romance. not that you cared for it. in the meantime, having jimin’s company when you came home from long shifts was always a treat, he would sing you sweet songs as he helped you cook or ran you hot baths to relax tense muscles, listening as you ranted about bitchy customers. jimin was tender with you, so very understanding and caring with you when you were down but willing to go on late night adventures into the freezing unknown when you were full of energy.

some nights, he would disappear, leaving you alone in your dark apartment with the chill of loneliness knocking at your window. being alone was normal for you, even at times like christmas where others would bask in the bright light of their families and friends. you didn’t have that, you made sure of it. other times jimin would come to your home practically frozen from head to toe, he never mentioned where he went or why he was so cold but you cherished every moment of his return when it came by. he was the only one who made it seem like your company was worthwhile. 

“boo!” 

you squeal and jump away from the oncoming voice, barely catching yourself as your footing fails beneath you. a pair of strong, toned arms wrap around your waist and hold you up, twirling you around and causing you so squeal even louder. hands grip at jimin’s strong shoulders as your laughter bubbles through the winter air. the man himself offers you a bright smile, the rose that inks his cheeks  prettily matching the pink of his hair. “put me down you, you pink lump!” You manage between giggles, clinging onto jimin tightly as he sets you onto steady ground. the world comes to a standstill, the spinning making your head feel light but you smile brightly nonetheless. “where have you been? i missed you! are you okay? how did you get here?”

jimin throws his head back in back in laughter at your flurry of questions, running a hand through his wind swept locks. “YN, YN, one question at a time, darling.”

“darling?  and did you get a hair cut?” you don’t mean to pry, but after a gruelling day, jimin’s smile is all you need to have your heart warmed and spirits lifted. 

“YN!”

“sorry, sorry i just missed you is all,” you shrug and allow jimin to pull you into his chest as you waddle down the streets, path illuminated by the endless santa clauses’ that light up shop windows along with their reindeer counterparts. christmas lights woven into trees, create a warm glow around jimin’s rounded face and for the first time, you see him differently.

jimin squeezes you once, looking down at you. “yes i cut my hair and i had to take care to take care of some business.” 

he doesn’t go into anymore detail, he never does. you almost never find out where he’s been or what he’s doing, part of you doesn’t want to know. maybe he’s here for someone else and is just trying to spare your feelings. wait. feelings? you hoped that you hadn’t started falling for jimin, you couldn’t be. it had only been a few weeks but you felt like you had known him but you felt like you knew everything there was to know about him.  jimin notices you staring off into the distance, admiring the lights so it seems and frowns to himself. 

“hey...YN, why don’t you have any lights?”

“hm?” you mumble, absentmindedly, as his soft spoken voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“christmas lights…you don’t have any!” jimin pouts with puppy eyes, letting go of you in favour for grabbing your smaller hand in his, whilst his fingertips scream cold, your heart screams louder at the simple touch. With a bounce in his step, the pink haired boy leads you over to one of the stalls in the chirstmas market, searching earnestly for a small box of lights.

you falter, biting your lip. “i’ve never been one for christmas…” you say quietly, but jimin is having none of it.

“maybe thats because you don’t immerse yourself in it.”

you watch him ponder and giggle at all the choices, and soon his arms are full of multicoloured lights of all shapes and sizes, along with a few ornamnets and a miniature potted christmas tree for you to decorate together. “jiminie...wh-what are we doing?” you ask, as pay for the lights, unable to say no to his sweet smile. you’ll check your dying bank balance later, praying that it’s not in the minuses.

“decorating, silly!” he squeals giddily, grabbing your hand again and tugging you home at a much faster pace than before. as soon as you step through the doors, jimin is kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket on the hooks, barely giving you enough time as he pesters you to hurry up. with both hands in his, jimin leads you into the living room and twirls you around. 

he let’s go of you to set some quiet music up on the speaker, dumping all of the decorations out onto the floor. jimin makes quick work of untangling the rainbow lights, stringing them above your tv as he whines for you to hang some of the ornaments and stockings up. “we’re going to turn this boring old apartment, into something christmasy.”

“this place is already magical!” you protest with a light huff, shoving his shoulder before kneeling down to unbox the tiny tree. “i can’t believe i let you coerce me into buying this…” you mumble and earn yourself a nudge to the shoulder by jimin’s foot. 

he slides to his knees to help you fix it’s branches once he’s done with his decorating, tilting his head to look at you discretely. your cheeks hot at his closeness and you do your best to hide it from him. “It’s only magical because i’m here.” you can’t help but smile fondly as jimin takes your hand in his, squeezing it slightly and bringing your linked hands up to his lips to kiss. your heart races rapidly but the moment is cut short by the ringing of your phone over the speaker. you quickly grab your phone, ignoring the contact name ‘taetae’ that flashes on the screen. the music resumes and you sit on the floor, feeling panicked. “who was it?”

“no one.”

“no one, like your brother?” jimin asks, changing the song to a softer one, looking directly at you. you wrap your arms around yourself and shrug, you’d told jimin stories of your family, not many but enough for him to know their names and faces. he shuffles over to you, taking you into his arms as you ignore the tears threatening to spill. “you should call him.”

“I can’t.”

“you only say you can’t, because you’re afraid to…but really, you know that you need him just as much as he needs you.” 

jimin doesn’t touch more on the subject after that, instead, he stands and holds a hand out for you. you take it, watching him with wide eyes as he switches on the lights, allowing them to glitter around you and illuminate the room. jimin gently tugs you into his chest after turning up the music, kissing your forehead and snaking arms around your waist. you allow yourself to sway with him as he embraces your vulnerability.

and it is with a waking start, that you realise you’re completely in love with jimin.

jimin leaves again just days after, leaving an empty hole in your heart. you hate that he leaves without a trace, you almost hate how quickly you’ve fallen for him but every part of your ind, body and soul is telling you that is is okay. in meantime, you decide that with your new found free time, that you will fill the space with good deeds. 

you want to be kinder, be better and being with jimin has made you realise your potential to be kinder. 

at work, you arrive early and cover your new temporary colleague who’s struggling to keep up with the machines and work loads, you even find time to bring in a batch of christmas cookies for everyone to share, as a thanks for supporting you and being your family away from family. you finally get around to meeting those neighbours, finding out that they have the cutest puppy in the entire world, named bruno, who reminds you very much of your little brother’s dog back home.

lastly, you get round to calling taehyung. the ringer brings up a bubble of anxiety in your chest, it’s daunting, thinking about talking to him again. He’s your brother, you remind yourself as you wait for him to pick up, he loves you. you convince yourself that any hostility you receive is well deserved, and hold your breath waiting for an answer. “he-hello?” your brother’s deep voice hesitates, and you sigh gently Into the phone. 

“hi baby brother…” you breathe, hearing his own breath hitch over the phone as you clutch the device. “i miss you so much and i’m so sorry.”

a door closes on the end of the line, you assume that taehyung is moving rooms for you to get some quiet, most likely away from your nosey mother or other intruding ears. “YN… i miss you too, why are you sorry?” His voice sounds so confused and genuine, guilt consumes you for abandoning your brother when he needed you most but now you’ve been shown that you have a chance to fix things. 

you take a deep breath once more, holding back tears. “i’ve been a bad big sister…”

“YN-ah no, no…” taehyung starts. it doesn’t take long before the dam breaks, and everything spills out. everything that held you back from your family is laid out on the line for your younger sibling and he understands. you spend the next few hours catching up, learning how much your dog has grown and the new music taehyung is listening to, he talks to you about his favourite music groups and you feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. 

you barely notice when the door opens, jimin stepping through. he sees you laugh and sees you smile, grinning  to himself at seeing you so animated. When the call with your brother finally ends, jimin wraps his arms around you and coos to you as you jump. the way you look at him like he’s your entire world makes his heart rumble with warmth, giving heat to the chill in his body. “i missed you so much, i love you so much.”he hears you whimper into his chest after you embrace him, he’s been gone for far too long, he knows that.

so it doesn’t surprise him, when his own lips form the words. “i love you too.”

“let’s go on a date,” jimin suggests, leaning an elbow on the counter at the cafe you work at. you jump when you spot him, almost dropping the mug you were drying out which causes your coworker to giggle. she and yourself had gotten a lot closer since jimin rolled around, she even noticed that you were much happier. you admit, jimin made you very very happy. 

you turn to him with a knowing look, raising an eyebrow. “a date where?” you question him lightly, watching as his dark, whiskey eyes light up when your coworker presents him with a warm hot chocolate. jimin grins at her gratefully and you shake your head, kissing his nose fondly.

since confessing to one another, you felt yourself opening up to people more. jimin helped you escape from your shell of a person, becoming a much better one at that. the man himself was more than you could ever ask for, he was kind and affectionate and you would even go as far to say you were in love with him. “i was on a walk the other night and i found this cute frozen lake nearby to your apartment complex,”  jimin explains to you with a sweet tilt of his head and you can’t help it when you lean over to wipe the chocolate moustache from his top lip. “the ice is pretty sturdy, and if i got us some skates we could play around on it for a bit.”

“that sounds like a lot of fun, why don’t we go when i’m done with this shift?” you say and lean into press a kiss to jimin’s pouty lips. he nods happily at the offer and gives you one last peck on the forehead before telling you that he will meet you back at the apartment. you arrive home from work to jimin who’s dressed in a large sweater and tight black jeans,  which hug his thighs perfectly. he hands over a warm sweater of his and lets you change before leading you to the lake. your hands are intertwined, jimin’s thumb brushes over your knuckles as you walk through the cold.

the lake is beautiful, trees surrounding it are dressed in bright lights by your lover’s doing. snow decorates the bank, creating a white blanket that crushes beneath your boots. jimin sets you down on a log and eases off your boots, he remains gentle with you while lacing up your skates, kissing your hand under the light’s once he’s done. after putting on his own skates, the man with the pink tinted hair and cheeks, guides you onto the ice and holds you close.

you gasp softly, stuttering with your steps as you glide onto the ice with jimin’s support. “that’s it, there you go, you’re skating darling!”

smiling gently, you let the boy guide you on the ice as he skates backwards, you mave effortlessly across the crystallised surface with each other in arm. jimin twirls you gently, pulling you into his arms as you pick up momentum. you look up at jimin softly, the lights illuminating his face like the very night you met him. “what?” he asks and giggles, the wind running wildly through his pink hair.

“nothing, tonight is just beautiful and i love you.”

“i love you back.” jimiin grins and pulls you into him as you come to a standstill in the middle of the lake, he leans down and captures you’re lips with  his own. they’re cushion-like and soft, and you let your arms snake around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his soft hair. you mould together perfectly, like a key in a lock as if you were made for each other. the kiss speaks a million and one emotions, leaving you panting hot breath into the late night air. 

the pair of you skate for a while longer before deciding to head home for some cuddles, you make a move to step off of the ice but jimin stops you. 

“don’t move...” he mumbles lowly, avoiding your gaze in favour for staring at the ice below. jimin’s hand it held out to stop you, “keep your eyes on me, YN, im coming to get you.” jimin adds, sternly but you can’t help but cast a look down. 

you gasp, watching as a particularly large crack develops in the ice, itching to break through. you have no idea how deep the water goes, you can swim but it’s bean years. a million and one panicked thoughts bristle through your mind as jimin calls to you again. 

“eyes up darling, i’ve got you.” he says, making you nod your head and lift your stare to catch his warm, safe chocolate hues. jimin crouches down, wriggling on the ice with his stomach flat against it like a snake and makes his way towards you.

fear spikes up your spine as the ground below you creeks, looking as if it’s going to break through. “minnie...i’m scared” you tremble, as the man himself tries to shuffle faster. 

just before he reaches you, the ice beneath your feet gives out and you slip through into the dark depths below. you manage a scream before submerging into the water, thrashing about as your limbs start to feel heavy and cold. jimin calla you from above, screaming your name desperately. 

“jimin...” you think to yourself, the world falling black.

everything is dark, every breath you once had sucked away as you stay trapped in your mind. you hate this place, the space in your consciousness where you’re haunted by everlasting darkness. you hate it. 

but soon enough the air returns to your lungs, letting you breathe again. you choke out, desperate for the oxygen to rouse you as jimin places a warm hand on your back and lifts you into his arms.

“i’ve got you darling, you’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispers and rocks you back and forth, pressing his lips into your hair line to desperately calm you. laboured breathing turns to hiccups and sobs as you come to, digging your fingers into his cable knit sweater whilst you process your surroundings. jimin has somehow managed to get you home, the scent of your blankets making you cry harder into his chest. “YN, sweetheart...”

“i almost died...” you heave, remembering how you swore to yourself to never return to that place. the darkness. jimin frowns, squeezing you together as if he’s trying to pull all of your pain away. “promised it’d never happen again...”

“what did you promise, love?” 

you know jimin means well, he doesn’t know what you’ve been through or what your life had been before him. curling up in his arms, you let salty tears streak down the apples of your cheeks, flashes of cold icy water resonating in your mind. you shove your face further into his sweater, finding him slightly cold, remembering the ice. you let out a watery sigh, and twirl your fingers in a loose loop of jimin’s clothes. “I've... come close before...” you start slowly, screwing your eyes shut as the memories come into play. “around christmas time last year...”

jimins sits up with you in his arms, running a hand through your hair. “take your time, baby..”

“i was in a...bad accident and i lost a lot of blood, i’d never seen my mum so scared and my brother..” you pause to calm your breathing, jimin pressing just cheek into your hair as he listens quietly. “they had to do an emergency transfusion...and i promised myself i’d never do that to my parents again,” 

“i don’t want them to worry, i don’t want to be a burden, that’s why i’m out here a lone and i almost lost myself again and now im a burden to you too...” your rambling picks up, the words becoming muddled as you try to explain. jimin doesn’t complain or make you feel patronised.

instead he rolls under the blankets with you, brushing the hair from your eyes and rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks. “you could never be a burden to your family nor myself, they love you and whilst what happened to you is frightening, you fought and now you’re here with them. you are not weak or delicate, you’re strong and a survivor,” jimin whispers sweetly against your skin, letting you cling tightly to him. his words soothe over your worries heart and you hear the words that you’ve needed all a long. you needed him. “you’re so brave, and i love you so much.” 

“i love you too.”

jimin squeezes you close once more under the sheets, having a protective hold on you that no one can break. “you’re safe now.” 

and you believe that you truly are. 

“i think you should meet my parents,” you sigh into jimin’s chest. he’s somehow managed to pull his oversized jumper over the both of you, the warmth of his body clinging to you and creating a tingly feeling in your veins. he feels colder than usual, but you put it down to the light snowfall outside. “christmas eve would be nice, they’d love to meet the one who’s making their girl happy.” 

you add with a tilt of your head, looking up at the man with the impressively pink hair. his skin has paled, probably due to the cold weather as well, the sudden shift of his gaze to look at you doesn’t fail to make your heart skip a beat. “what do you think?”

jimin hums, shifting to wrap his arms around you and closes his eyes. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.” he voices, barely above a whisper. he’s so quiet that his voice falls into tune with the Christmas music playing in the background, so quiet that his soft voice blends with the harsh crackling fire. 

“what? why not? they would love you!” you say and hide the hurt in your voice, your gaze is cast aside to the badly wrapped presents you’ve made for your family. the paper is torn in places, with pieces tapped over it to over the holes. it’s crinkled instead of smooth like the ones jimin finished for you. 

“its not the right time.” he mumbles simply and you can feel him withdrawing from you. the warmth that jimin had is now a prickling ice that makes you tear away from him. his honey brown eyes open, and blink a few times as he watches you shuffle out from the sweater. your hands are cold and burn like frostbite, jimin flinches.

you couldn’t help but feel the anger bubble, boil and blister inside of you. you’d spent weeks together, built a home together and it felt like everything was going right. so why now? why not? “now’s not the right time? you don’t think after spending almost a month together that maybe it’d be appropriate for you to meet my family?” 

“things are a bit complicated for me right now.” 

“complicated? jimin what’s going with you? you’re so distant from me lately...so much-“ you start to yell, standing up now. jimin’s face remains plain, unnerved as the  christmas lights flash shades of cherry red and pine green against his creamy skin. 

“colder?” he finishes, raising his voice at you, you step back and frown. jimin sits up, pushing a hand through his pink fluffed hair and glowers. “in case you hadn’t noticed YN, i have other things on my mind aside fixing the dysfunctional world of you! you shouldn’t be so dependent on me to fix all your problems.” he spits, and the cold hard truth burns icily at your skin. eyes water as jimin stands, moving to shrug on his coat and boots. 

he was angry and you were selfish. you hadn’t  learned it seemed. you want to let him go without any last spurts of anger, but you can’t help it. something inside you needs to have the last word. “you know what jimin? fine, leave! i don’t need someone who won’t commit anyway!” you scream, but the door has already slammed and you’d already fallen to your knees, holding in your sobs.

you wake up the next morning with a crust in your eyes and the scent of pancakes filling the air. you’re in the same spot that you were last night, the blankets still wrapped around you and keeping you snug. rubbing your eyes, you sit up and shiver. the room aches with coldness and you miss the warmth that yourself and jimin shared last night. “jimin...” you whisper absentmindedly, the gravel in your voice making you sound tired. 

“here, did you sleep well?” 

he’d whispered it quietly, but he was back nonetheless and you felt your bottom lip wobble as you noticed him. jimin hands you a plate of pancakes, allowing you to eat them silently. 

“well enough,” you say, a mouthful of food tucked into your cheek. the memories of last night cause a pain in your head, but you manage well enough to prevent the conversation from dying. “what about you?”

jimin smiles at you, seemingly different from last night, leaning forward to push a strand of your hair out of your face. “it was fine, i stayed up late to get you something.” he sighs and hands you an envelope. you frown, setting your knife and fork down to open the envelope, revealing two tickets home for that evening. jimin grins as your face lights up, thumbing the envelope gratefully. 

“minnie...you shouldn’t have...” you gasp dreamily and lean over to hug him. he says nothing, but instead accepts your affection, cuddling into you.

you find yourself nearly toppling off the couch but jimin steadies you, rubbing your back. “i should have, this is the right move for us. for you.” jimin says, and you find his words somewhat cryptic, ignoring them for the smile he offers you.

the train ride is longer than you expect or rather, remember. it had been a long time since you’d visited your family or even left seoul, but the excitement of having jimin meet them overruled any feelings of boredom.

you wonder if they’ll like him, if they’ll see how deeply you’re in love with him. you know for a fact that tae will, he’d always been good at reading you. 

snow falls lightly outside, not enough to delay your journey, but enough for it to settle and form a crisp white blanket for the outside world. you know with winter comes cold and sleeping animals, sleeping plants and sleeping jimin. he looks so peaceful in the light of the snow, it’s pale colour highlighting the soft accents of his features, the slope of his nose and curve of his lips. not forgetting, the sharp of his jaw. you kiss him softly in the junction between his jaw and his neck, covering your lips at the chilly feeling of his skin. 

a while later, the train pulls into your station and you make sure to be careful with rousing jimin. the air outside is even colder than his hand in yours, but you pay it no mind as you start to lead him off of the platform. 

jimin doesn’t budge.

“jimin, lets go, we need to catch our taxi remember?” you say with a puff of warm breath into the cold. jimin stands still with his hair as rosy as his cheeks, his nose pink against the snow as he pulls up his scarf. 

“i can’t.” 

you furrow your brows and begin to approach him, grabbing onto his arm as you look up at the man pleadingly. he promised he would make it up to you, he promised he would come home with you. “what? what are you talking about?” 

“this is as far as i go, YN,” jimin starts, looking down at you with sympathetic eyes. he knows that you’re frustrated, he can see the tears starting to form in your eyes like icicles in the winter but he stands his ground and resists your pleading. “beyond that point, i don’t exist anymore.”

you blink, ignoring the stares of strangers passing by. “you’re kidding, jimin don’t be so stupid-“ 

“i’m imaginary, YN, i’m not real,” jimin starts to say slowly, and you stop struggling in his arms to look up at his face for any signs of a lie. “my name is park jimin, and i am a figment of your imagination.” 

you open your mouth to argue, question him on why he decided to pull such antics before meeting your family when it clicks. the name park jimin was one you had heard and seen before. plastered across billboards and magazines. written on lyric sheets that your brother taehyung had printed years ago. park jimin was an idol, a member of BTS, one of the biggest groups in the world. when your eyes flutter back up to meet jimin’s, his own are soft and his face shows heartache. you want to pull away from him, to scream at whatever he is, but you don’t want to believe it’s real.

you don’t want to believe that you were lonely enough at christmas to make up a friend. 

“you’re lying, how could i imagine doing all those things with someone i’ve never met?” you ask yourself more so than him, stepping back from jimin with watery eyes.

he is silent for a moment, before he takes your hands and sits on the suitcase you had packed. his clothes are in there, clothes that don’t belong to a real man. jimin takes a lush pink lip between his teeth as he panders over how to phrase is words. seconds tick by and you realise he’s cold because he doesn’t have a real heart to keep him warm. “do you remember, your accident at christmas last year?” he asks as your hand curls into his fluffy pink hair for comfort. you nod. “you remember how you had a blood transfusion? to save your life?” 

you nod again, hiccuping. “part of the real park jimin exists within you, he was the one who gave you the blood. jimin was there, the only one that night who had a matching blood type with yours,” the jimin before you explains, brushing a thumb over your knuckles as you exhale shakily. “he had only been there by chance, with namjoon hurting himself while they filmed for a show called bon voyage. he saved your life,” he adds. “the colder i get, is the more he fades within you. he may not know who you are but he is a part of you.” 

“but why him?” you cry, bottom lip wobbling at the realisation that you were still alone and vulnerable in the world. that your jimin was leaving you behind. that your jimin, the one you were so in love with, wasn’t even real. “why did you come?” 

“because jimin is a kind soul and you needed someone to guide you the right way.” he whispers and stands, his hands leaving yours to cup your cheeks. they’re  freezing, barely there and you know that jimin is about to leave you forever. staring into his dark chocolate eyes once more, you find yourself lost in a haze of emotions and gaze over his peach face and soft tinted hair, blinking away the tears that threaten to fall. jimin kisses you, letting you clutch into him as his lips mould perfectly with yours. 

your heart bursts into a thousand tiny pieces, from heartbreak or love you do not know. there is a fine line between them both. his forehead is pressed hotly against your own, as his lips find yours over and over again, claiming them while his tongue finds your mouth. the kiss is searingly passionate, and you clutch onto his pink hair just to make sure he’s real. you selfishly hope that he is. gripping him tightly, your hands roam every part of him that you can touch, trying to convince yourself that he is real and that he wouldn’t leave you alone in this shitty world. 

the tears in your eyes burn hotter than anything you’ve ever felt before, the pain crawling through the ridges in your chest and suffocating you by the throat. you can’t lose him, you panic, you can’t be alone again. jimin was all you had, jimin was the only one who understood you. he knew you more than you knew yourself, and the idea of losing that comfort sends a fresh set of tears rolling down the apples of your cheeks.

the jimin you have now is the one that you’re in love with but your grip on him loosens as he starts to fade. the coldness to your lips replaced with air and not a physical presence. 

soon enough, you are left standing on an empty platform, the ghost of christmas and love, written on your lips. 

uupon arriving your at your parents’ , they immediately bombard you with questions regarding your festive lover, jimin. each word stabbed like knives at your heart, hurting more than last. the wounds that he had left were still wide ope, showing no signs of healing any time soon. your mother and father seemed relieved  when they realised he hadn’t come, ignoring the hurt that spread through your body. 

your father later told you that your mother feared she would lose you to jimin as well, making you tremble with guilt mixed with tears that night. 

most of your days, nights and evenings are spent  relaying memories, like the  times where you’d stopped to kiss his cheek in public. you had imagined that. Or other times when he’d come up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. those were imagined to. so every time you played those little moments, the moments where you felt most happiness, you couldn’t help but well up with tears. taehyung doesn’t fail to notice the random changes in your mood, your younger brother is tender with you and lies with you on the days you refuse to leave bed on the lead up to christmas. 

believing you was difficult for him, especially when you explained to him what’s on your mind, but he holds you while you sniffle and cry about what could have been.you’re so in love, that every scent and second reminds you of jimin, repeating the heartbreaking cycle. taehyung whispers sweetly “i’m sure the real jimin would had loved you just as much,” one night when you’re curled into his arms before christmas eve. your pup, yeontan curls up with you, licking at your cheeks as if he’s wiping your tears, causing yourself and taehyung to burst into fits of giggles.

a few days before the night of, your parents blind fold you after dinner and lead you into your father’s car. taehyung holds your hand tightly as you listen to the wind whip through the windows and your parents sing along to old christmas carols. the younger helps you out of the vehicle when it comes to a stop, wrapping his arms around you to protect you from the cold. dead leaves crunch beneath your feet as they guide you, the rush of cars to your left tells you that you’re close to the city centre. a few more minutes and you’re walking up the steps of a building, listening to the keys turn in the lock and the door open with a jingling bell over its head. 

your blindfold slips off and the lights are switched on. 

you stand with your family in a quaint café with teal blue walls and white tables that swirl and curl at their feet. the chairs have sprinkles of gold and silver tinsel, twirling through them and at the counter is decked with rows and rows of sweet treats and savoury pastries. custard tarts, buns and doughnuts. pizzas, rolls and pasties. you smile widely as you move behind the counter to run your finger tips over the freshly installed coffeemaker and gawk at all the teas stocked on the shelf.

“what...what is all of this?” you ask your mother, who smiles with happy eyes next to your father. she steps towards you and takes your hands before kissing over each knuckle.

“we were going to wait until christmas day, but taehyung noticed you needed a little bit of cheering up,” she nods her head over to your brother, who only waves shyly before continuing on. “do you remember your cousin seokjin?” you nod as your mother grins widely. “he recently opened up his third chain of cafes and he needed someone to manage the store located right here, in our hometown. taehyung suggested you, seeing how much you wanted to own your own bakery one day. seokjin has told me that you have full creative freedom, as long as you report back to him with any new tasty creations you have.”

the only word to describe how you feel, is  gobsmacked, completely shocked as you stare at your little family with a warmed heart. “say something, YN.” you father mumbles worrisomely as he nears you and your concerned mother. 

you remain silent for only a few more seconds before engulfing them in a large, endearing hug, pushing more than a thousand feelings into it. taehyung watches the exchange from afar, catching your eye. “i love you guys so much.” you say, looking directly at your younger brother with a soft, heart felt smile as he rushes over and nuzzles into your long-awaited embrace.

the launch of the cafe comes on christmas eve , with many calls between yourself and seokjin occurring between then. he, along with your family, are there when you cut the ribbon for the grand opening. cameras rolling as you announce the name of the cafe ‘rosey cheeks.’ after jimin. The silk ribbon at your feet is a silent reminder of him, tinted with a baby pink, like his hair.  jimin, himself often crosses your mind, many times in fact. although you don’t know the real him, you miss the one that you shared your days with. you miss his smile, his laugh and the way his eyes creased at the corners when he did so. 

taehyung helps you keep up with the real BTS, however, showing you clips of their comebacks and the concert date in your country. to say he’s ever so pleased with the album you gift him on christmas day would be an understatement. he beams brightly at you and plants soppy kisses on your cheeks as you walk with him to the cafe. as the joyful words of ‘boy with luv’ blast over the speakers and customers munch happily on treats you’d baked that morning, you can’t help but let your mind wonder to jimin. the real jimin. you can’t help but hope that he’s happy and healthy and part of you wishes he knew who you were, so selfishly. you’re in the back, whipping up some more gingerbread men for the excited children who just mind wonder in, whilst your little brother manages the till. 

“come here often?” taehyung grins and wriggles his eyebrows at the girl his age, leaning over the counter with charming dark eyes and a look that would send anyone especially squealing. the girl shakes her head.

“didn’t you just open yesterday?” 

she walks away, but not without leaving her number for the flabbergasted boy on the corner of a napkin.  he giggles excitedly and swoons over her name and number written in cursive writing, so much so that he ignores the chime of the  bell overhead and the slight coughing of a customer. “welcome to Rosey Cheeks, blah blah, how may i help-?” taehyung looks up and through the dark hair over his eyes, pausing when he noticed who it is that stands before him. “you-?” 

“uh hi, name’s namjoon, i was wondering if you did orders to go?” the dimpled man beams and waves over the counter. four other heads and a set of cameras pop into taehyung’s field of view, and it’s with one glance that he recognised them as the members of BTS. kim namjoon, min yoongi, jung hoseok, park jimin and jungkook. “hello?” 

taehyung nods, slightly awe struck but does his best to keep his cool as his cheeks burn bright red. after all, their album (the one you gifted him) is playing over the radio. “uh yeah, we...we do...what can i get you?” 

jungkook and hoseok take a wonder around the cafe, giggling when they hear their own voices as yoongi helps namjoon to order, even signing some napkins for taehyung without the boy asking. jimin however, seems encapsulated. his chest radiates a warm energy that he believes he’s felt before, everything surrounding him seemingly familiar. that’s when he hears it, the soft humming from behind the counter. he feels attracted to it, it reminds him of home and suddenly the boy with the faded pink hair is running past taehyung and into the kitchen.

“jimin!” 

his members call, but he ignores them in favour for the voice. jimin heard namjoon hurriedly apologise for his unusual behaviour before finding himself in the glittering kitchen. silverware, pots and pans are cast across the room but all jimin can focus on is you. 

so much so, that he misses the pot on the floor, stepping in it and almost falling to his death.

that is until, you catch him. 

his dark, homely eyes meet yours in a panicked state, fluttering across your face as you hold jimin up with two arms. a small gasp tears in the back of your throat whilst you realise who it is that you’re holding and this time, he’s not cold. “jimin!” you squeal, dropping the male with a sharp thud. panic is set free in your chest, your mind going into overdrive. the park jimin, the real jimin is in your kitchen. the shock has you reeling as the pot at his feet clanks and you scramble to your knees to help the soft pink haired boy to sit up.

“do i...know you?”  he asks, accent thick with korean and god you wish he did, you can’t stand the way he’s looking at you, with earnest eyes and an innocent face because it reminds you of your jimin. wait, did he just speak to you in korean? did you just understand what he said? 

 stopping your work at brushing down jimin’s blue sweater and black and white striped top, you stare him down with wide eyes. you couldn’t speak korean to save your life, you didn’t even understand it when taehyung played their music to you, despite having family like seokjin who lived in seoul, you’d never picked up the language yourself. so how could it be that you understood him? jimin blinks over at you, looking just as confused, the thumping of his heart and the sudden rush of blood around his body causing him to furrow his brows. why was everything in his body screaming at him to pull you close? why were pictures of you together flashing behind his eyes?

“you wouldn’t remember me,” the singer hears you whisper as you settle back onto your knees, he usually only knows a few words of English but somehow he hears you perfectly. your face looks downtrodden and solemn as he watches you twiddle with your thumbs and jimin can’t help but reach over and grab one.

he runs his thumb over your knuckles and you gasp in shock, but this feels right to him. your heart rate picks up. “but i feel like i’ve known you forever. this is weird, i know that we just met and we have no clue what’s going on but i can’t help but feel that this is right,” jimin starts earnestly, grabbing your hand tighter and leaning forward to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “i feel connected to you some way or some how.” 

“i feel the same,” you whisper back with hesitance, thinking of the words that your own jimin told you. that the real one, flows within you. “do you...do you remember my name? YN?” 

the idol freezes, the hand that tucked away your hair is now cupping your cheek but it is still warm. more memories, that aren’t his, flash before his eyes but ones that are, like the day of the blood transfusion sound in his mind. “you’re the girl...from that accident,” jimin says and looks you over. “you made it!” 

“i did,” you chuckle, casting your gaze aside as jimin holds your hand tightly. “i think that’s why we feel so connected, because your blood that saved my life, flows within me. you are a part of me, and someone once told me that i would learn many things from you, even if i didn’t know the real you.”

there’s a silence for a moment, before jimin shuffles closer to you and pulls you into his blue sweater. whilst the situation is  strangely intimate, you can’t help but feel like this is normal for you. “you were in love with that someone, they were like me. i see the memories you made with them.” jimin mumbles into your hair, as you sit with him silently in the kitchen. you imagine taehyung must be having the time of his life, especially if the other members are out there.

you’re trying everything to distract from the fact that you loved him once -jimins   but the way he looks at you so understandingly makes you crumble. “i was, deeply.” you say quietly and cling to jimin, trying your best not to cry.

he carefully tilts your chin up with a thumb and forefinger, letting his whiskey eyes travel across your face. when jimin smiles, it’s like a thousand christmas lights have been lit up at once, and your heart thumps loudly in your chest just by looking at him. “why don’t we start over? and you can get to know me, the real me?” jimin looks hopeful through the pink of his hair. “of course, unless-“ 

with shaking hands, you grab his cheeks softly and thrive in the warmth that they radiate. you boop his nose after “ i would love to.” you say and offer him a bright smile, to which he mirrors. you heart bursts, happy that the last christmas bought you together, giving you a second chance at a real love.

[pandorica0011]

Heart Over Head

Word Count: 2, 565

Warnings: Cursing, intimate times. You know the kind. 

This is my gift for @chibi-sketches for @spring-has-come 's Rusame Secret Santa Event. This is so incredibly late and I apologize greatly. I hope you enjoy it anyway and that you have a great day! I went with your Omegaverse idea and did my best to deliver! 

Alfred fidgeted with the sleeves of his suit for the fourth time today, picking at invisible lint pills. Work was slow and there wasn’t much to keep himself entertained with. Well, there was one thing he could do..

A man with his long blonde hair in a bun strode out of the boss’ office behind him. He wore a sleek gray suit and a grin so wide he had to bite his lips back. He sauntered up to Alfred’s desk and placed a well-manicured hand on the unfinished paper in front of Alfred. 

“The boss would like to see you, mon chou. You didn’t misbehave, did you?” he said with a wink. 

Alfred chuckled, but didn't know how to react to that. Ivan wanted to see him and that’s all he needed to hear. 

 Alfred almost tripped against his chair as he scrambled over to the door. 

He knocked softly, but only out of courtesy. He knew that Ivan wouldn't mind him walking in just like that. 

"Come in." 

He creaked the door open. 

Ivan sat behind his large oak desk, hands splayed out in front of him and he wore a wide grin like Francis', but he didn't hide it.

“How is my little sunflower doing today?” Ivan cooed. He stood up and met Alfred at the front of his desk and took him into his arms, giving him a tender kiss on his head. 

“Exhausted,” was his only reply as he returned the hug. 

'Well, maybe I can help you with that." Ivan dipped Alfred's head back gently and pressed his lips against the side of Alfred's neck.

There was a knock at the door, making Alfred jump in Ivan's arms. 

Ivan chuckled a bit and cleared his throat, "Come in," he said. He straightened up, holding the sides of Alfred's suit as the door creaked open and a co-worker, a man with a head of messy blond hair and an even messier pile of papers in his arms. 

"Oh, pardon me," Arthur said, his face tinted pink. He backed up a few steps and was almost out the door before he remembered what he had come in here for. "These are for you." 

He handed Ivan a stack of papers. The poor man practically rose a few inches in the air once the weight of the pile was taken off. He had been nose deep in those papers all week. 

"Good work, Kirkland." 

"Thank you, sir." He rushed back out the door as quickly as he had arrived without a word more to speak. He was such an odd, distant person. 

Ivan set the stack of papers down and wrapped his arms back around Alfred, placing a quick peck against his forehead. "We can continue this later, after the company dinner, but I want to hold you for now." 

Alfred had no problem with that at all. Man, he loved cuddling with Ivan.

..

As promised, Ivan brought Alfred back to his place to finish what they started and he wasted no time. 

Ivan pushed him onto the bed, running his hands lightly over his sides. He bit down on his neck greedily, making Alfred groan. 

Fuck, Ivan always knew how to make him lose control. 

Alfred pulled the hem of Ivan's shirt up, and slid his hands up into the warmth of his soft chest. Ivan hated his chest, but Alfred loved every inch of it. 

Their clothes fell away in a scattered mess around the bed. 

They melted into one another in a blur kisses bite marks, rubbing and soft caresses. 

Alfred couldn't help but cry out as Ivan pushed against him, into him. He let his eyes fall shut and let each wave of pleasure crash over him. 

"Fuck, baby." 

Every word, every noise spurred Ivan on further and it wasn't long until they were both desperately clawing and holding on to one another. 

Alfred could feel himself reaching his limit, his head feeling light, his body tightening and relaxing. 

Ivan followed soon after, resting his head against Alfred’s neck. 

Alfred curled happily against Ivan's warmth, enveloped in the sweet, musky scent that was his alpha, his partner. Well, unofficial partner. They'd thought it best to keep from marking one another, to keep things private. 

Ivan kissed his forehead and ran a gentle hand down his back. "My sunflower, there is one thing I have been meaning to talk to you about." 

"What's that, babe?" 

"It's about us. I was thinking, maybe we could finally tell our co-workers about us at tonight's dinner." 

Alfred’s blood ran cold. "No, Ivan. We can't." 

"No? But Alfred, it would be the perfect opportunity to open people up to the idea of us." 

"No, we can’t. Ivan no." 

"Alfred, listen-" 

"But you haven’t been listening to me, you know how I feel about that!" 

"It's no big deal, things like this have been happening for years now-" 

"And people still get ostracized for it! Especially here!  If you do this, I could lose my job, my family would disown me!" Alfred was angry now. This wasn't right. Ivan should have consulted him about this earlier. There was so much at stake. 

"They wouldn't do that-" Ivan tried. 

"How would you know?! You have nothing to lose here! You own the company, you can pay everyone off  if you wanted!" Alfred was getting frustrated now. How did Ivan not see how this was a problem?

"Alfred that’s not fair-" 

"No, Ivan! None of this is fair!" 

Alfred pushed Ivan off himself and grabbed his clothes off the floor. He pulled them on in a hurry, paying no mind to the fact that his shirt was inside out and threw his sweater over his shoulder. 

Ivan sat up in bed, with a sigh. “Alfred, please don’t do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“Don’t leave, let’s talk about this,” Ivan reached his hand out, but Alfred turned away. “Please.” 

“Not now, Ivan.” 

Alfred walked out, slamming the door harder than he had intended to. He had to stifle a sob, barely managing not to trip over the table against the hallway wall through the tears stinging his eyes. 

For a few days, he avoided his phone like the plague. He wanted to reach out to Ivan, to talk about what was bothering him, but he had betrayed his trust. Why would he think he’d be okay with telling everyone about them when he knew Alfred wasn’t ready. 

It wasn’t until he got to work one day that Francis came to join him at his desk. "You seem so down, mon cher. Is there something you need to talk about?" 

Alfred shook his head. "I'm lost." Was his only response. 

Francis nodded, but didn't press the issue. 

When it came time for their lunch break, Francis didn’t try striking up a conversation. Instead, he put a reassuring hand on his back and took one of Alfred’s hands in the other, encouraging him to stand. 

"Come, you can join me and Arthur for lunch. We can talk then if you’d like." 

Alfred smiled a bit at that. “I’d really like that.” 

“Great, we’ll take my car.” 

.

The car ride was a bit awkward, neither him or Arthur said much, but Francis happily chattered away about anything and everything he could. 

They went to a nice bakery not too far from their workplace. It had a simple, but comforting atmosphere that eased Alfred. 

"So Alfred, tell us, what is bothering you so much?" Francis supplied. It was better just to jump into it, Alfred supposed. Francis was never one to beat around the bush.

So, for a good twenty minutes, he went on to explain his relationship with Ivan. It was the first time he had told anyone about it, but even though Francis was intrigued, he wasn't surprised. And damn, did it feel good to get everything off his chest.

He explained how Ivan wasn't seeing his point of view, and wasn't being fair to him. How he was hurt by the one person he thought would never hurt him.

“Oh, mon petit,” Francis tutted. “It takes time to build a tolerance to the world. There is no sense in being so hard on yourself now.” 

“Yeah, but I just wish he had given me more time, or even waited until he knew I was ready to even think about telling anyone." 

"We all make mistakes, but he meant well. It would do you both some good if you heard him out. Just a bit." 

Francis took Arthur’s hand and placed a light kiss to it before holding against his own knee. Arthur smiled and ran his thumb across Francis’ knee before returning to his tea. 

It didn’t strike Alfred until that moment, that Francis and Arthur were awfully close for two co-workers. That meant..they were a couple. A couple of alphas. 

Alfred didn’t get it. They were so happy, so..carefree. Weren’t they worried someone would come along to cause them trouble?

“How do you guys do it?” He couldn’t even explain to himself what “it” was. Everything was just so complicated. 

“It’s completely normal to be afraid in situations like this. Some people even go as far as changing their scents to avoid suspicion.” Arthur supplied. He said it in such a tone that made it seem like he had done the same. “Although, there is no need for it. People will say what they say, and as long as they don’t interfere, they shouldn’t matter.” 

Francis gave a firm nod in agreement. "The point is, cher, don't think too much about it. This is a situation in which your heart must rule over your head." 

Alfred wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe that the world didn't matter and that only he and Ivan mattered. The problem was, he couldn't. Not when Ivan almost went behind his back and risked costing him his job, his family, his entire life. Not when the world was so close-minded. 

He just couldn’t do it. 

Could he?

..

Later that night, just as Alfred was ready to pass out, his phone rang. 

Through his bleary vision, a jolt struck his heart when he read the collar ID. 

It was Ivan. Against his better judgment, he answered. 

Ivan’s voice filled his head and he could have cried. He really missed him. But, why did he? Why miss him after he hurt him so bad?

"Alfred, why don't you come to dinner with me? Please, give me another chance." 

He wanted to say no, he wanted to hurt Ivan the way Ivan had hurt him. But he couldn’t. He missed him so much. Then he remembered what Francis told him. Naturally, he agreed. 

.

Ivan was the first to speak after an awkwardly silent car ride. 

“I’m really sorry, my sunflower. I should have taken your feelings into consideration before thinking of telling anyone about us. I know how hard it is for you.” 

Ivan brought him to the same restaurant they had gone to on their first date. A modest, but beautiful looking place. 

Most of the dinner was spent with Ivan trying to fix what he had done, and Alfred doing his best to see his point of view and Alfred feeling bad for not hearing Ivan out sooner, but still standing by his opinion that they should have talked about it first. 

Alfred couldn’t help but shed a few tears at Ivan’s sincerity. He had overrated a bit, but it was nice to hear Ivan out and be heard in return.

After dinner, Ivan brought Alfred to a busy square, where they bought some drinks and watched as people wandered through the spacious area. 

“This is nice.” Alfred said. Everything fell back into place as if nothing had ever happened. He missed this. 

Ivan nodded, “Yes, it’s the perfect place to spend the rest of the day.”

He looked around for a few seconds before taking Alfred’s hand and leading him to a less crowded spot next to an intricate-looking, marble fountain. 

“Wow, this fountain is beautiful.” Alfred ran a hand over the engravings on the surface. “What do you think, Ivan?” He turned to him, but was caught off guard. 

Ivan gave Alfred a small smile and lowered himself onto one knee, making Alfred gasp. 

Was he doing what Alfred thought he was doing? No. Could he be? But why? 

Ivan pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a simple, but beautiful silver band. "Alfred Fitzgerald Jones, would you do me the honor of making me the happiest alpha in the world and be mine?" 

Alfred nodded his head, taking a deep, shaky breath. "Yes. Oh my God, yes." 

Ivan stood up and took Alfred's hand, slipping the ring onto his ring finger. He took Alfred’s hand and held it up to his lips. He spoke softly against his palm, just loud enough for Alfred to hear above the busy plaza. 

“I love you, my sunflower. Nothing will ever change that.” 

Alfred had to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks. This was the first time he and Ivan had ever been this intimate in a public space. He looked out at the sea of people on either side of him, not a single one gawking at them save for the few stares of people that happened to look in their direction. Even then, they didn’t look like they really cared, and if they did, they whooped and hollered, clapping their hands together. 

His heart thundered in his chest, his head felt light. This was really happening. 

Ivan was right. There is nothing to be afraid of. There’s no reason they couldn’t be happy like this forever. 

.

Alfred couldn't even remember how they made it back to Ivan's house, but that didn't matter when Ivan was on him, kissing him the way he was. 

They disappeared under the sheets in a flurry of unbuttoned shirts and pants. Alfred took the reins this time, sitting in Ivan’s lap, and grinding their hips together. 

He loved watching the look of pleasure washing over Ivan’s face, his cheeks flushing and head thrown back, exposing his neck.  

He readily jumped at the opportunity to tease him and suck on the sensitive skin, making Ivan tense up and pull him closer. 

Alfred was too impatient to wait to feel Ivan inside of him. He guided Ivan in, and watched as Ivan threw his head back once more and cursed. “Fuck, you feel so good.” 

Alfred smiled at that, and continued to ride Ivan, grinding against him and laying his head against his neck. “God, baby. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, my sunflower,” he said in between thrusts. “So much.” 

Alfred could feel his head growing lighter, and his body tensing up.

It didn’t take long for that last wave of pleasure to envelope him. He collapsed onto Ivan, and Ivan came soon after with a grunt and one last thrust upward. 

God, he felt amazing. 

As they held each other under the sheets, both warm and content, Alfred couldn't help but smile at the odd feeling of soreness on the side of his base of his neck. He glanced at Ivan's matching one. 

They'd finally done it. 

They were partners. For real this time. 

Nothing could have made Alfred happier. No matter what anyone would say. 

[aghostfromtheages]

Grocery List

So this is my (late) gift for the @secret-santa-klaus gift exchange :)

My giftee was @flashcotton . I had ideas and snippets floating around about this scenario for the past few months but I was finally able to get the time and inspiration to make it all come together. Flashcotton and I both seemed to enjoy some Klaus/Ben shenanigans, so I hope you like it!

Word count: 2010

Five flipped through the kitchen cabinets for the umpteenth time that afternoon and scowled.

No coffee.

He had been home for barely more than a day, and yet, the Commission had already chased him out of his favourite doughnut shop, making it impossible for him to show his face there again without much questioning, and more than a little distress. He warped the length of the kitchen. It was so in character for their father to own a perfectly effective little French press with nothing to use it on.

Without a doubt, the Temps Commission was actively searching for him. He had work to do, things to plan, and someone to… visit. Five had taken the opportunity to remove the Commission’s tracker, so that should have bought him some time, an evening at least.

Time enough for a coffee, before shit really hit the fan.

 ______________

Klaus rolled his body halfway off of the couch, groaning as the room began to spin. He needed some food, asap.

Ben watched his brother untangle himself from his partly discarded skirt and pull himself, half swaying, into a standing position. With a shake and a shiver, Klaus stretched, purposefully ignoring Ben’s expression of annoyance.

“It’s torture for me watching you do this to yourself every morning.” Perched on a nearby chair, chin in hand, Ben sighed.

“Mmmm,” Klaus mumbled, “You know what would be great right about now?” he paused, looking expectantly at Ben.

“Watching you sleep for another ten hours?”

“Eggs,” Ignoring Ben for the second time, Klaus sighed happily, “Eggs would be unbelievably sublime… right about-” Klaus tipped himself back onto the couch, before popping back up in time to catch Five striding through the living room. “-Oh Five! Perfect timing, where are you off-”

“Nope.”

Without breaking pace Five warped from the room to the entranceway.

“Wait!” Scrambling, Klaus pulled on his formerly discarded clothing from the night before, including Allison’s skirt.

Ben peeked around the corner into the foyer as Klaus careened past, bouncing off of the door frame. “He’s definitely not waiting.”

Klaus caught up with his brother just as he was pulling away in the car. He tried the passenger side door handle, but it had been preemptively locked. “Five, please…” he pouted, tugging at the door handle in vain.

Without looking at Klaus, Five stopped the car and leaned over to unlock the passenger side door. “I’m not in the babysitting mood, Klaus.”

Klaus couldn’t even be bothered to feel offended, but he definitely looked it. “Oh well…” he said, making himself comfortable and clipping in his seat belt. “I thought we could catch up.”

Five looked at him blankly.

“You know, some brotherly bonding time… on the way to… wherever you’re going.”

Ben sighed loudly from the backseat.

“Try your hardest to make me not regret this. I’m getting coffee.”

In tandem, they jogged across the busy street after parking the car.

“Fifteen minutes,” Five reminded Klaus, “Fifteen minutes and we meet back at the car. Got it?”

“Yeah… yeah of course.” Klaus nodded as earnestly as he could manage. He gave his brother an easy smile. “No problemo.”

Five, appearing unconvinced, rolled his eyes, before darting through the other shoppers and entering the sliding doors of the store.

“You don’t even own a watch,” Ben hissed, “and you pawned your phone last week!”

Waving his hands around, as if to shoo Ben’s spirit away, Klaus followed Five into the store, making a beeline for the refrigerated aisles. He ignored the lingering side-eyes and scoffs of the other well-to-do shoppers. First up; eggs. Klaus sidled over to the dairy fridges and began pretending to check cartons for cracked eggs. With a certain sleight of hand, he slipped two eggs into each coat pocket before walking away; shaking his head in mock disgust as if annoyed by the quality. Ben followed him listlessly, peering into other people’s grocery carts, and sighing in longing at the mundanity of it all.

Klaus threaded through the aisles, on the lookout for anything that piqued his interest.

“Look!” Ben’s gasp stopped Klaus in his steps.

Frozen. Waffles.

Klaus had not tasted waffles since… since that day long rager where he had torn the ass of his pants out jumping the fence running from the cops. It had been 5 A.M and the guy he had been staying with stole three boxes of frozen waffles from the 7-Eleven. The most romantic thing anyone had done for him, probably.

Making his way over to the frozen foods, Klaus waited until he was relatively alone before snagging a box of chocolate chip waffles and slipping it under the back of his jacket and into the band of the skirt.

Ben watched his brother tense and wince from the cold. “Idiot.” he sighed, with no little affection.

“Worth it.” Klaus croaked as he half waddled his way to the liquor aisle.

 _________________

Five had not been inside a modern grocery store in years. Grace had managed most of the grocery orders when they were younger, but since their father’s death, she had been barely functioning.

 The grocery store was an example of one of those shining monoliths that jammed itself into the center of many large cities, sporting separate floors, escalators, and the odd domestic scene of a family of faceless mannequins.

“Where the fuck is the coffee?” Five swore under his breath, garnering more than a few startled looks from the other shoppers.

Cereal, crackers, a whole aisle for juice, even an entire area dedicated to clothing essentials... Turning a corner sharply Five nearly walked straight into a solo female mannequin. Someone had left her, half-clothed, next to a pile of empty boxes. She looked like she was either coming in or out of storage.

Five stopped abruptly, brogues squeaking on the linoleum, coffee forgotten. A flicker of familiarity followed closely by guilt shifted across his features. Despite the looming crisis of the apocalypse, finding Dolores was among his top priorities. Although, a sliver of regret had buried itself near the core of his consciousness.

He had left her.

In that implausible, gut-wrenching juncture in time when the Handler had found him, he had left Dolores. Five didn’t often spend time thinking about the first few years he had been stuck in the apocalyptic future. He had been a child then, not only mentally, but emotionally as well. The horror and mounting panic of being trapped in a ravaged world, alone, was something he would never be able to sufficiently describe. She had been his companion for decades, seeing him through some of his lowest moments, and he had left her. The icy grip of dread crept across his chest, and suddenly Five was there again, hands bleeding, digging through the rubble of his home to find the broken bodies of his family.

 ______________________

“Pfft.” Klaus scoffed. “The car’s still here!” He loped over and tugged on the handle. Locked.

 Once past the sliding doors of the grocery store, Klaus slid the mickey of vodka out of his skirt and hoofed it across the street. Ben followed closely behind him, passing through people on the busy sidewalk. “I think it’s been more than 15 minutes.”

Klaus circled the car and picked a loose sour key out of his pocket. He had raided the candy scoop bins, stuffing handfuls of chocolate almonds, peppermints, and the like into his jacket pockets before making a hasty exit. He chewed on the candy absently, satisfied by the sour taste. Ben sat cross-legged on the hood of the car, watching his brother pace. Pulling the now warm waffle box from his skirt, Klaus tucked it carefully under the rear bumper of the car, along with the eggs, painkillers, and the small bottle of vodka. He patted it gently before straightening up. Ben watched him expectantly. 

“Do you think something happened to Five?”

Klaus shook his head. “Back home for less than 48 hours and already upsetting the apple cart.” He sniffed. “If dear Dad could only see me now, being useful and everything.” With a sad chuckle, Klaus popped another sour key in his mouth and jogged back across the street; Ben followed closely behind, trailing his brother through the sliding doors. Turning from one end of the entrance to the other, Klaus ran his hands through his mop of curls. “Now if I was in a fresh teenage body, lost in a grocery store... Where would you find me?... Don’t answer that-”

Ben walked past him, peering through the lines of shoppers to the cashiers. “Why not ask one of them?” He gestured towards the people working the cashes. “They might know.”  

“Oh Benny boy,” Klaus pretended to pat his brother’s ghostly face, “I knew I let you stick around for a reason.” 

With Ben in tow, Klaus made his way against the flow of people to the nearest cashier. An older woman, she was distracted, counting her till, unaware of Klaus standing primly next to the counter. He rolled his shoulders and coughed loudly, but she seemed very engrossed in her organization of quarters. “Excuse me,” Klaus knocked on the counter next to her as calmly as he could, despite the painful headache blooming behind his eyes. 

“Can I help you?” She didn’t even bother to look up from her counting. Her voice was curt and tired. 

“I’m looking for my… b-brother - Little brother.” He added hastily. Klaus shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, balling them into fists to keep them from shaking. In the last five minutes, his body had seemed to amp up the combined withdrawal and hangover symptoms to 10. 

She sniffed, seemingly even more annoyed. "Well, I could call for him over the intercom?" She offered it like she was giving up a kidney. "What's your brother's name?"

Ben sighed. Klaus smiled. He could already hear the inevitable questions ringing in his ears.  "Well…"

_______________

Five heard his name as if from underwater.

“... Five… Five if you are in the grocery store your brother… Klaus… is looking for you. Please make your way to…”

Five shook the fog from his head. He had been listlessly wandering the aisles of the grocery store for who knows how long. The tightness in his chest remained. He felt lost, exhausted, and frustrated that he was on the brink of tears over something so trivial as coffee. Turning about in the aisle he groaned aloud, unsure of which way the exit or checkouts were located.  

Without warning, Klaus appeared at the end of the aisle, sliding into a grocery cart before waving at him. “Five! You!... you rascal.” He jogged down the rest of the way, panting. 

He stopped short when he saw Five’s face. “Hey, hey, hey,” Klaus said softly, “This place is a mess, you need a map to find anything. What say we get out of here?” His headache was all but forgotten in the face of Five’s current state. His brother’s eyes were red, posture tense. Klaus reached out and gently squeezed his brother’s shoulder. Stepping past him, Ben bent down wordlessly and did his best to envelop Five in his ghostly embrace. Five’s posture relaxed. He scrubbed a sleeve across his face. “Thanks, Klaus.” His voice was scratchy. 

Ben pulled away, looking sadly at his brothers. Klaus shook his head. He was never good at this. There was so much unsaid between them all and no safe place to begin.

“You know what? I know a great little coffee place close by, a little pricey but the barista is great to look at and even gave me a job in 2016 after I…” He paused. Klaus barely knew his brother. Unfortunately, Five couldn't say the same about him. 45 years in the apocalypse to read Vanya's autobiography and all those news columns about his fuck ups meant there was no need for Klaus to elaborate. “Anyways. He owes me a joint and a bag of fresh ground coffee, at least. Wanna go?”

Five smiled faintly. “Yes, let’s.”

[creepyalienghost]

Old memories to new 

Also note: suicide thinking.

———-

Grant sat in his car staring at the Christmas decorations that was put up around the studio over the night. Two big red bows with Silver bells hung on each of the doors while lights of reds, blues, yellows and greens hung from the roof edge. A snowman status was off to the side beside the left door. A Santa on the right. On the on windows were Bendy, Alice angel and boring stickers dressed up as Santa’s, an angel and elves. Inside would probably be worst.

Dread was in the pit of grants stomach. He hated this time of the year. It always brought out the worst memories from his pass. Like the death of his mom near his 5th Christmas. She had always tried so hard to be a great mother to grant even though she was always sick and dying. She struggled to worked but made tried the best she could. His father always made more money for them though. But that means leaving his family for days on in. Once his mother passed, grants father had to get another job so he could raised his son. After that food and bills became tight. Somedays there wasn’t food on the table at all for them. Christmas became worst to. He knew his father felt guilty every year for not having a real Christmas for grant. With a big tree and many presents. Seeing his father crying at the kitchen table alone in the dark has burned into grants mind, even still.

Now as an adult he resented Christmas. Everything from the cheery songs being payed or song to the gift giving and secret Santa people did, he despise and wants no part or it.

Grants looked at the clock for the time and sighed as he slowly got out his car, slamming his car door shut. He walked inside and instantly wished he was dead. There was a row of blanking Christmas lights all the way down the halls along with bendy posters but for Christmas. He wanted to rip each one down and burn them then strangle himself with the lights. As he walked farther down the hallway he could hear awful Christmas music being played the show three floors down. He didn’t hate the music director but at this point he could shove that stick up his ass for playing this shit. Once grants gets to his floor he smelt the toxic order of eggnog and wanting to throw up in it.

Grant finally got to his office and closed the door behind him, leaning on it. -just throw yourself into your work, grant- he mumbled to himself. -you will forget once you focus on your work-

Grant ran his hand through his short hair then he around towards his desk, Stopping apparently. There was a present laying on his desk. It’s wrapping paper was red and shiny with a beautiful white bow on top next to a little tag. Grant approached it like it was poison waiting to fill his lungs until he was no longer breathing. He could see his face in the reflection of the paper and he put on his blink face as he check the tag.

From: Shawn

To: grant.

Shawn actually got him something? They had been dating for a little over 11 months now and so far Shawn has made him happier in life. He has Shown grant the littlest things can be the best and mean the most. Like writing letters to each other, going on simple picnics by the lake and having fun while grocery shopping.

Grant picked up the smooth covered red present and noticed how hard and heavy it was. -what could this be?- he asked him and tried to guess everything that came to his mind. Tool box?, shelf? Stand? He didn’t know. Though he hated Christmas and gifts he didn’t want to be rude by throwing it away so he started to tear open the pretty wrapping paper.

It was revealed to be a small beautiful hand carved chest with a green envelope taped to the top. Grant removed it carefully so it wouldn’t ruin the box and opened it, pulling out the letter and reading it.

“Dear Grant.

I’ve noticed you been a little down lately and I don’t know why but I do understand that this time of the year can be hard for many people and that’s alright. But I did want to cheer you up some and let you know that I am hear for you. This chest I made so you could placed good memories inside of so you can look back at them from time to time. I already started a little for you. I hope you enjoy grant.

- Shawn.”

Grant put aside the letter and once again looked at the beautiful chest. His hands caressed the edges and sides of the chest, feeling the smooth surfaces of it for a minute. He finally unlocked the chest and lifted its lid, peering inside. The first thing he saw was a few bags of candy. His favorite candy M&Ms of different kinds. He was grateful to have a snack today for lunch for the next three days but when he pulled them out and m saw the next idea tears started forming in his eyes. Tears of Joy.

He reached in and pulled out a stack of photos Shawn took of them over their time together. The first one was them being proper and smiling into the camera together. Grant flipped it to the next photo and saw a snapshot of himself in mid laugh. He looked so happy in this photo and he was Shawn was making jokes the day he took this one. The next picture was them two at the Halloween party couple contest where they won third place.

As grant flipped from picture to picture he couldn’t help but cry from the joy he felt right now. Being with Shawn changed his bitter light into a life filled with happiness and joy. He wanted to continue being with this man he’s happy with.

After looking at all the fun photos of them, he looked once more inside the chest and found a cute little green plush bear. “Aww” he said as he picked up the green bear and hugged it to his chest. “I love this...” he mumbled to no one but the air.

He slowly realized he should start making new memories. Good ones, with the people that were still hear before it’s to late. He already missed so many opportunities already. But he wasn’t going to miss this years opportunity. He was going to spend it with Norman, Sammy, Tom, and most importantly he was going to spend this Christmas with Shawn.

[imreallyhereforportal]

Portal Secret Santa 2019

Hey @the-real-baberaham-lincoln!! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!! I really REALLY hope you like this lil’ Chelley one-shot. I took some “creative liberties,” apologies hehe. Merry Christmas, I’m so sorry I’m late. hugs and kisses x infinity

~~~~

Resonance

“Agh - no! Dammit, God...n-not that I’m not happy to see you! Of course I am! I just...thought you wouldn’t be back...until later.”

That certainly wasn’t a greeting Chell usually met on her way through the door. Typically Wheatley’s eyes would light up, inflating with delight and, sometimes, relief, as he lifted his gaze from whatever he’d been doing. And then the corners of his lips would follow in that dazzling, toothy grin, and he’d open his mouth with the cheeriest “Hullo!”. He’d watch her for a moment, like he had no intention of moving. And then he’d remember his legs and stand so that he could welcome her properly. Wheatley would envelop her in a short hug, or perhaps offer a kiss to her temple. Or he’d take what she held in her hands, ridding her of burdens. 

That was their routine. And, quite frankly, Chell missed it now, having been expectant of it, disgruntled and damp as she gripped her sopping purse. The files inside were doubtless ruined. She’d been angered by that earlier, but now her concern landed on her tall, lanky, clearly bothered partner standing in their kitchen twenty feet away.

Wheatley didn’t seem to have noticed her current state. He appeared preoccupied with an urge to bang his head against the wall. 

“I - ugh, well, cat’s out of the bag now, I s’pose,” he said gruffly. Wheatley gestured to the table in front of him with a wave of his arm. Chell’s confusion only increased as she noted the several glass cups poised in a line before him. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about them from where she stood. Chell stared at Wheatley for a second, waiting for him to elaborate, but he avoided her gaze, glaring at the glasses like they’d offended him. Huffing silently, Chell moved to take her coat off. 

“I mean, it’s not the end of the world. I was going to show you eventually anyhow, so it’ll do, but I’d meant for more time - OH!”

Chell spun around at his sudden outburst, coat in hand.

Wheatley gaped at her. He stuttered, stopped, then traversed the room in great, heavy strides, reaching with both hands. One of them was closed around something. “I - I didn’t notice…” He took her bag and placed it on the carpet beside them. When he turned back, he fiddled with the trinket he’d been holding before tossing it onto the couch behind him.

Chell watched as it reflected light from the ceiling lamp, but she didn’t see what is was.

Wheatley went to grab a hanger from the closet while she crouched to untie her squelching boots. She heard him try again, “I didn’t see you’d gotten rained on. Don’t know how, it’s quite obvious, actually, what with your hair dripping and that scowl on your face.”

She looked up at that. He was smiling at her lightly, over his shoulder. Chell narrowed her eyes in return, but he recognized her mutual teasing.

Wheatley disappeared once the coat hung in its usual spot. As she finished tugging off her boots, he rounded the corner back into view, equipped with a large bath towel. He approached her and began to wrap it around Chell but she stopped him with a raised hand. She wasn’t in the mood for a scrubbing, if that’s what he planned to do.

Eyeing him gratefully, Chell unfurled the towel herself. “It didn’t rain,” she stated plainly. Not while she’d been out. “Some car drove over a puddle.”

“Must’ve been quite the puddle,” Wheatley supplied. His smile faltered at the look she gave him. “And - and how dare it, right? Totally against social etiquette, to be such a big puddle on the side of the road. And how dare that driver! Should’ve known better, whoever they were, or at least been more careful. Anyway, besides that, how was your day?”

Chell shrugged. Nothing special, though she’d been let off early. She was still a bit drenched, droplets trailing down her face and back, but that was subject to change. Standing by the entryway of their home, warm and drying and Wheatley close by, it wasn’t all that bad. Though, she definitely needed to examine the contents of her bag.

It could wait. She was still perplexed by Wheatley’s initial welcome. “What were you doing?” she asked.

“I - me? Well, I, uh…” he looked at the ground imploringly, like it would aid him with the rest of his words. A few instances passed where Wheatley seemed to be making up his mind. Chell didn’t rush him. Ultimately, he met her gaze, determined. “Come see.”

He led her almost all the way back to the kitchen before stopping with a quiet “Oh!” and returning to the couch, grabbing whatever tool he’d thrown down earlier.

Chell took the opportunity to examine the table more closely. About a dozen glasses sat in a neat array, and they appeared to be filled with water. A metal spoon lay close by. As he approached, Chell understood that Wheatley had retrieved a second spoon, now held in a closed fist. He looked at her a bit nervously, chewing his lip and wringing his hands. Chell tried for an attentive but casual disposition, wringing out her hair with the towel.

He understood. “Right, so, I’ve been trying to, uh, learn something. Well, more like figure it out myself. ‘Cause, I sort of discovered, I guess you could say, that when you tap a spoon against one of these glasses-” he stopped to demonstrate, a chime coloring the air “-it lets out a note. Yeah, I thought that was curious, and - this is the interesting part - when you fill the glass with some water-” he tapped another glass, and another note sounded “-you get a different one.” As he shared, Wheatley’s voice danced with barely-suppressed excitement. He’d clearly forgotten about his nerves. “And so, I was thinking, ‘Why not keep doing that?’ Y’know, filling the glasses with different amounts of water, ‘cause that was definitely the critical factor in making the note change. So I did that, and...” He let his actions explain, tapping three glasses, a grin on his face.

Clink. Clink. Clink. Chell was no expert on music, but the pitches were obviously a sequence from some scale. Wheatley was right - it was interesting, and quite impressive, for Wheatley to have measured out the exact water amounts that produced the right notes. It didn’t escape her, though, that he must’ve been banging flatware on their glasses to have learned about the chiming noises.

Wheatley’s attention was still fixated on the arrangement in front of them. “And so I uh...well, I’ve been practicing. Something. And I’m not sure if it’s ready, to be honest, I wasn’t sure when I’d be showing you, but...” He smiled sheepishly. He glanced at the funnel in the towel where she’d been collecting hair and squeezing out water, then back to her. “Now might be as good of a time as any. Hopefully.”

Wordlessly, he grabbed the back of a chair and sat down. Wheatley acquired his other spoon from the table, one in each hand, and looked over his ensemble of glass cups. Chell took a couple steps back to give him space. From this trajectory, she could see how each glass had been filled to a different line. Wheatley watched her as she shifted, hunkered down and close to his instruments before she offered an emphasized nod. Of course, Chell figured what she was about to hear, and she felt more than a little intrigued to see its execution. A look of heavy concentration flooded Wheatley’s face. He brought a hand up, the spoon shaking slightly in his grasp, hesitated, and brought it against the glass’s side.

Chell recognized the tune with about four clinks. Greensleeves. Interesting choice. It was a beautiful piece, one Wheatley knew she enjoyed, delicate but cleverly rich, the kind of music that would prompt her to choose a spot on the wall and watch it unseeingly. It had some sort of calming effect that coaxed her out of thought. Not many things could manage it. Chell usually heard Greensleeves on piano, soft and deep. This rendition was not much the same.

This was sweet. Stirring and light with each bump of the glass. Chell gazed at Wheatley, the maestro, as he persuaded every note from his orchestra, slowly but surely. The water would shake upon playing its part, but Wheatley didn’t. After his initial tension, his face relaxed, and his hands worked easily. He must’ve practiced thoroughly to gain such confidence. Or maybe he was in his element with music.

Given the nature of the instrument, Chell had expected some of the notes to come out harsh, maybe even abrasive, or perhaps the tempo to slow further, but nothing of the sort happened. She allowed herself to embrace the sounds as she did when she heard the song on the radio. Subconsciously, Chell trusted she could give herself up to the music, and Wheatley wouldn’t falter.

He played thirty-two measures, the renowned beginning of the piece, before his final note rang, clear as the rest. Wheatley looked at her nervously as Chell woke from her voluntary trance, but she saw the relief brimming in his eyes. She knew why. He hadn’t known if he could do it, if he could carry her from reality into a state of peace, even as her hair dripped and the towel weighed down on her. He hadn’t known if his idea was even all that interesting, but he’d tried to make something special for Chell. His song choice proved that. 

It’d been short, but it’d definitely been memorable. A gift. 

Eventually, Wheatley spoke up. “So, what do you think? Did you like that?”

Chell responded by crossing to his side of the table, sitting across his lap, and wrapping the towel around both of them. Their own little peace, like the one he created for her. Every day. She smiled brightly and told him she loved it before sealing her words with a kiss.

[ankkalinna]

My Duck Comics Secret Santa2019 Gift for @paperino-protection-squad who wanted Tamers of Nonhuman Threats and X-Mickey crossover and some stuff about Donald’s different identities. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 4600

Donald had been in a bad mood ever since he woke up, and hearing the voice of the person he hadn't really thought of in years really didn't make his trip to the grocery store any better.

”Donald! Hey, it is you!”

Donald turned towards the mouse. ”Hey. It is you.”

He shuffled in place a bit, awkwardly regretting the blatant unenthusiasm in his tone. ”So. Long time no see.”

”Yeah.” Mickey nodded.

An awkward silence fell.

”We should do lunch sometime,” Mickey said. ”To catch up.”

Before Donald could reply he continued: ”Why not right now, actually?” He looked at his watch. ”I'm free. Do you have anything?”

Donald did not. He was, as one might say, between jobs at the moment.

But telling Mickey that...

He paid attention to the mouse's suit. It wasn't expensive, nothing that made it look like he was trying to overcompensate, or that he was throwing money away.

It was neat, well put together. Paired with a nice watch that implied he had a bit of an extra money to get himself something nice. Not too expensive. Then again, Donald's idea of expensive was 'I could not justify spending money on this when there are three sets of school supplies to buy'

The mouse had always radiated self-confidence and had this annoying successful aura to him...

He is probably doing well, Donald thought bitterly.

Out loud he said: ”Sorry, I'm really really busy now.”

He couldn't help adding: ”An important career... thing. A thing. Yeah. I got opportunities. Bye.”

…

Donald woke up to an alarm.

He struggled up. ”Not now Uncle Scroo-”

Wait.

That sound was his TNT alarm.

He pulled it out of his closet. It had been a long time. He even sometimes forgot he had this gig. His life was so full of being The Duck Avenger, and Doubleduck, and Scrooge's slave, and a parent-

But this job had a big difference compared to all of those.

It paid.

And it paid well.

Donald saluted the image on screen. ”What's up I'm awake!”

…

In half an hour Donald had dragged Fethry out of bed, shaken him awake with a ”The world needs us!” and gotten him into the TNT headquarters for briefing.

”Welcome, Agents,” The Head started. ”We have measured outstanding levels of extradimensional portal radiation somewhere around or near Duckburg.”  He pointed at the image on screen. ”We have reason to believe this person is involved-”

”I just ran into him!” Donald pointed at the screen at the file image of Mickey Mouse. ”Now that you mention it he was maybe acting a bit odd.”

”I'm sure it's fine,” Fethry said. ”And what do you mean portal radiation anyway? It's all fine...”

”Really?” Katrina Kolik said, ignoring Fethry and focusing her attention on Donald. ”Maybe it'd be for the best if you tried to dig up some more information.”

Donald saluted. This sounded like an easy job.

”Okay,” he said.

It might even be nice, seeing an old friend and reminiscing a bit.

…

Donald smiled at the mouse sitting in front of him in the small cafe. ”So, it's nice to meet up like this-” He took a sip from his latte. He wasn't sure why he had suggested an overpriced coffee shop.

It had felt like something Mickey would fit in, he supposed.

”And so lately I have been doing more work at the paper, writing a column on bee-keeping,” Mickey said. ”Of course I keep being pulled back in but at the moment I really would prefer a more stress-free life with everything going on. Maybe I will return to being a police consultant at some point.”

”A-ha.” Donald lifted his drink to his beak and pretended to drink. The cup was tiny and he was dreading the bill already. He had to make this one cup last for as long as possible.

”I remember you being a reporter too?” Mickey asked.

”Not in a while,” Donald sighed. ”Uncle Scrooge outsourced his clickbait journalism to some trained ferrets. I was shining coins for him but-”

He hesitated. He had fallen asleep at the job after a hard night's work patrolling the city as the Duck Avenger. A row had happened. Donald couldn't remember if he had been once more sacked or if he had quit. Not that it mattered. He'd grovel back there at some point anyway.

Not that Mickey would have to know any of that.

”I had other opportunities, so I quit.”

That was basically true anyway. His work as the Duck Avenger took a lot out of him and without having to get up for work he had been putting even more hours in crime fighting.

Mickey leaned in. ”An exciting job?”

”Nothing big,” Donald said. ”I can't talk about it much. Because uh- I still don't know if it will actually happen.”

But he seemed a bit... Impressed.

Donald smiled, feeling a bit better.

Now then-

”So, I don't know how much I should be talking about this gig I got,” Donald said. ”I had to sign a non disclosure agreement. It's big.”

He had technically signed a contract for TNT. Or less signed anything and more had his biometric data scanner into the system with the implication that if he let anything slip the Organization would 'deal with him' presumably in a way that'd include being teleported into space.

”Say no more. I get it.”

Donald frowned, hoping Mickey would have been a bit more curious and tried to dig up more information out of him. Probably he didn't think it was actually anything cool. Nothing that could measure up to his interesting life.

”Yeah it must be pretty important job you do. With the police and stuff,” Donald said.

”Like I said, not in a while. I'm taking it easy now. Anyway, I'm good at keeping secrets, so if you want to talk-”

Donald was just trying to think how to approach the subject or try to find out anything when he was interrupted.

”Hello!” Fethry popped up from behind a potted plant and patted Donald's shoulder. ”Here you are, my dear colleague. Have you taken a good look at the charts?”

Donald stared at Fethry. And the obviously fake beard he was wearing.

Fethry winked.

”No,” Donald told him. ”Anyway I was bu-”

Fethry pulled up a chair and joined the two. ”Say no more, pardner!”

He winked at Donald again, batting his eyelashes at him. Donald glared.

”Nice to meet you...” Mickey said.

”Doctor... George.” Fethry shook his hand. ”I'm Donald's colleague. Nice ta meet ya'll mah dude.”

So now he was also doing an accent of some kind. Great.

”Yes and I'm sure Mister George is very busy!” Donald said.

”Nono, not at all.”

”So?” Mickey asked. ”Is this Doctor George from your new job?”

Donald got up.

”Yes. And he was just leaving.” Deciding Fethry would not take the clue he took his arm. ”In fact we are leaving.”

…

”What was that about?” Donald asked.

”I thought I'd help you,” Fethry said. ”To sneakily get information out of him. I once saw this documentary on interrogation. The trick is to spot things called 'micro expressions'”

He poked Donald's bill.

”For example right now your macro-expressions are saying 'I am angry' but your micro expressions are saying 'wow cool.”

”And tell me, is being dressed as a hobo santa part of the process?”

”I told you what I was doing! I was getting a whole bad cop good cop thing going on!”

”You told me? When?”

Fethry looked at him like he was pulling his leg. ”Just now. Come on I used Morse code.”

He winked again. ”See? Come on now Don, we have a system. I think I explained it to you.”

”You were... blinking Morse code at me..?”

Fethry patted his back. ”I knew you'd catch on! Eventually. It's great this connection we have. Almost makes it okay I have to keep quiet about the secret mission Katrina Kolik gave m-”

He slapped his hand over his mouth.

Donald gave him a glare. ”A what?”

Fethry fidgeted. ”Nothing!”

Donald took hold of his shoulders and shook him. ”What did she give you? Some assignment I'm not part of?”

Fethry glanced around. He leaned in conspiratorially.

”Top Secret.”

”Fethry...”

Donald crossed his arms.

”Okay so. Remember when we were kids and we used to climb this tree and that one time you threw my favourite hat on the roof?”

Fethry looked at Donald expectantly.

Donald stared at him. ”I have no idea what you are talking about.”

A relieved smile spread on Fethry's face. ”That was a test! I had to test it was really you. Of course you never threw my hat onto the roof you wouldn't be mean like that-”

”Fethry I am losing my patience here!”

Fethry looked around and slapped his fake moustache on Donald.

”Here, wear this just in case as I explain. So, the TNT organization maybe thought, just a bit, that you might have been replaced with a clone or be unreliable for some other reason.”

”What?”

”Shhh!” Fethry shushed him. ”Apparently Mickey got involved in something weird. And not just him. Someone else you know-”

”Who?”

”The Duck Avenger.”

…

Donald never had done something like this before.

He was very good at compartmentalization. He just had to.

He was Donald Duck.

A single parent, minimum wage worker, the nephew of the world's richest man, a boyfriend, a rockstar, a reporter, a Caballero, a superhero, a tamer of nonhuman threats...

And the top agent of The Agency.

He usually did his best to keep all of the different facets of his life far apart.

But TNT was looking into the Duck Avenger and Donald Duck's connection with him.

Boundaries were starting to break.

He had to know what was going on.

So Donald locked himself into his closet and pulled out his Agent Phone. The one he only ever took from its lock box for Agency missions.

The mechanical voice spoke out. ”Please identify yourself.”  

Donald stood a bit straighter and spoke into the device, slipping into this role. ”Agent Doubleduck.”

”Scanning. Please hold still.”

After the face and fingerprint scan the phone opened.

”Welcome, Agent Doubleduck. Please state your inquiry.”

”I need to get into the TNT organization database.”

”Scanning. Please stand by.”

”Hurry up...”

Finally the files from the TNT mainframe were pulled up on the tiny screen.

”As we cannot be certain of the level of personal involvement Agent Duck has with Mr Mouse it is recommended Agent D.Duck is not informed of the details and instead is let to interact with Mr Mouse under supervision from Agent F.Duck while our other Agents track down the anomaly- I knew it!”

With shaking hands Donald clicked the folder.

He sighed in relief. Apparently they weren't aware he was the Duck Avenger. The document focused on his superhero persona as a separate entity.

And they weren't even all that interested in him as a person it seemed. Apart from a few cases where he had interacted with otherwordly threats TNT didn't seem to much consider the Duck Avenger. Not their jurisdiction.

Except-

The file mentioned Fantomius. It seemed TNT was very interested in the connection between the two.

Donald clicked on his file.

”Warning. Security level insufficient.”

Donald frowned.

Giving up on that he pulled up the details on the latest briefings instead.

Contact 'M' has informed us about the possibility of a Level Omega threat.

Donald skipped the paragraph that got into the technical details he had no hope of understanding. It was big and spooky just like everything TNT dealt with (also apparently 'adularescencent'). He skimmed over the report until something caught his eye.

Fantomius's aka John Quackett's connection to the painting 'Land of the impossible' must be investigated further.

Land of the impossible... Donald had seen that phrase before-

“Doubleduck? What are you doing?”

Donald bit his bill. He had been careless.

The image of Kay K filled the screen of his phone. “You better have a good explanation for this.”

Donald looked her in the eye. “I do.”

“Is it Agency business?”

Donald had a feeling she already knew the answer. “No.”

“I should report you trying to use the Agency resources for personal reasons.”

Donald looked her in the eye. “You should. But I am asking you not to. This had nothing to do with the Agency.”

Kay examined his face. Eventually she nodded. “I'll pretend I didn't see anything. Be more careful this time, Agent Doubleduck.”

The image cut off. Donald sighed in relief.

A hand grasped his shoulder.

Donald let out a surprised quack before his secret agent instincts caught up with him and he pinned the other figure to the wall.

He stared at the intruder.

”Fethry?”

”Hey, you never told me you were a secret agent!” Fethry sounded hurt.

Donald let go.

”Sorry. I really need to go.”

”Well me too actually I'm still busy with things like distracting you-”

Fethry slammed his hands over his bill.

Donald sighed. ”TNT told you?”

Fethry shook his head. ”No but I can't tell you who. It's a secret.” He mimed zipping up his beak. ”I promised.”

Donald was about to call him out as a terrible liar. Of course it was TNT. But he wasn't too keen on bringing it up again when he himself had been caught up in a compromising position.

Deciding he could explain it away later as a job he had gotten from Uncle Scrooge, Donald pushed it away from his mind for now.

”It's okay. You stay here and keep up the good work of distracting me.”

Fethry gave him a look.

Donald smiled. ”I'll be fine.”

He opened the closet door. As he did so it only then occurred to him the door had been locked and somehow Fethry had gotten in anyway.

No time to think about that.

…

The Duck Avenger stared at the familiar ruined manor. Villa Rosa. It had been so long...

He shook his head. No time to dwell in nostalgia.

He jumped to the ruins. Once this mansion had belonged to the gentleman thief. Now it lay in ruin. (Thanks Gladstone)

The Duck Avenger had returned there for a few times. He had thought he had solved all of the mansion's mysteries.

He wasn't alone.

The Duck Avenger hid in the shadows as two TNT agents walked past.

One of them pulled out a scanner. “I lost the trace again. I don't think it's nearby.”

The other one examined a crumbling wall before kicking it. “Let's keep at it.”

The Duck Avenger frowned. They better not destroy the mansion any further.

He shook his head. At least it seemed like he was on the right track. TNT knew Fantomius had hidden something supernatural nearby and had decided to keep their Agent Donald out of it.

A smile played on his bill. Unlike those guys he had a pretty good idea where to actually look.

He returned to his car and pulled out his scanner. He should have done this sooner. Done a thorough search. Well, no time like the present.

He turned the scanner Gyro had made him on and watched as an image was drawn onto the screen.

If he remembered correctly, large parts of the mansion were hidden underground...

But those were pretty thoroughly searched. But if he had been Fantomius he would have had other hideouts nearby.

He pulled up the satellite image. He had come to Villa Rosa before but this time he had more information.

Remembering the 'Land of the Impossible' had been mentioned in Fantomius's diary he had re-read it. And yes, the last entry mentioned Land of the Impossible, something Donald had previously assumed referred to maybe an another country John and Dolly had fled to once their situation had turned too dangerous in Duckburg.

But with the knowledge he now had it all made so much more sense.

The details mentioned in the last entry were not veiled references to their new home across the globe.

It was instructions for finding something much closer to Villa Rosa.

Duck Avenger moved swiftly through the night.

The mansion grounds had been searched both by him and uncle Scrooge in search of Fantomius's secrets (and treasures) before. Most of what Dolly and John had stolen had never resurfaced, and Duck Avenger knew there had been some other secret vault for stolen artwork. A hidden gallery. Both he and Scrooge had searched it before but had found nothing.

But if he was right the diary was pointing him towards the countryside surrounding the mansion.

Eventually he spotted an overgrown well and landed his car. He looked down. According to the scanner the well was surprisingly large. The Duck Avenger set his rope onto the ledge and started to descend into the darkness only lighted up by his belt-buckle lamp.

There was a sudden snap and he plummeted down-

And landed in a puddle.

He struggled to the dry land. He looked up, the night sky visible from the well. Had his rope cut off accidentally..?

He dried up his cape, surveying his environment. It seemed the bottom of the well was attached to a large room with a door on the other side.

He moved there and opened up the door.

And barely managed to avoid the net coming down.

Duck Avenger nudged the decrepit old net with his foot. Traps.

So he was on the right track.

He opened the door and gasped at the collection in front of him.

So this was where Fantomius had collected his loot. The paintings and statues were arranged in the vault- no, a private gallery.

So, where was the painting he was looking for?

When he saw it he knew immediately he had found it.

The Duck Avenger had never considered himself an art critic. If he saw a portrait that looked realistic it was Good Art as far a he was concerned.

But as he looked into the painting he felt... He supposed it was like seeing something for the first time.

The artwork was rough and definitely not realistic.

But the winding mountains and forests that were painted with merely the implication of a brush seemed so much like something more. Like it was a twisted mirror of the world itself. Even the colours on it seemed to shift in the light, as if alive.

He tore away his gaze and turned the frame around. On the back there was an envelope.

And in the envelope, a letter.

To whom it may concern.

I fear everything has its end and our adventures as the Phantom Thief and his dashing partner in crime are not different. Now after our identities have been leaked I fear it's best for us to go. So, we will put everything in order, leave my inheritance as Fantomius behind, and step into the new unexplored world.

-John&Dolly

The Duck Avenger examined the painting.

Had they really-

”Donald!”

The Duck Avenger turned to see Mickey.

”What are you doing here?”

And how did he know?

Mickey took a step forward. ”You don't know how dangerous that thing is! Please quietly set it down-”

”Why would I?”

Duck Avenger suddenly had the strongest feeling he was being watched.

Swiftly moving the painting under his arm he pulled out his Freeze-gun and pointed it at the mouse.

”Did you come alone?”

Mickey hesitated.

”Please, Donald. That painting is a gateway to a different world, it has been active lately, and we don't know if-”

Duck Avenger could feel the energy radiating from the painting before he saw the portal open.

It was as if the reality itself shifted, the painted landscape stretching out until the chamber surrounding them was indistinguishable from the artwork.

”Donald!”

He was tackled into the dusty floor just before the insect-like leg could spear him.

Duck Avenger recovered fast, pushed Mickey away, and aimed his Freeze-gun.

But he hesitated. Would it work?

No time to wonder. He had to act before whatever that was could get through the painting. He pulled the trigger.

The creature did not freeze.

Instead it let out a screech that made both him and the mouse fall down.

Duck Avenger could see more of the spider-like monster emergence. It turned its hungry eyes to him.

”Hey! Over here!” someone called.

The gaze of the monster left the Duck Avenger and he took the chance to kick at the creature.

“Go for the eyes! It's a Shadowland Arachnobeast they don't like it when you poke them in the eye!”

The Duck Avenger acted fast and threw his Freeze-Gun at the eyes.

As it connected, the monster wailed.

It retreated back into the painting, reality bent back into the shape.

And then it was over.

Duck Avenger turned to the tall figure who had come to their aid.

A figure who seemed to be some kind of a hairy beast man.

Mickey lifted his hands up.

”So, I think everyone here owes someone an explanation.”

…

Mickey sat next to Donald. ”So.”

Donald nodded. ”So.” He finished putting away his Duck Avenger costume in the trunk of his car. If he was going to Car-can memory erase Mickey he had to appear just the normal old Donald Duck.

”Have you been involved in this kinda stuff for long?” Mickey asked finally.

Donald shrugged. ”I keep busy.”

Mickey patted his shoulder. ”Don't worry buddy I will keep this a secret.”

Donald looked him to the eye.

”I know you will.”

He thought back to the Car-can in his pocket. It would be easy...

But no.

”So, are you planning to wipe his memory?”

Donald turned around to face the tall hairy creature. ”No!”

Mickey gave him a look.

”I did maybe think of it,” Donald admitted. “-but I decided... Maybe not.”

Donald eyed the tall man. ”Anyway, I don't think we have been introduced. Are you related to that Archeologist guy Mickey hangs out with sometimes?”

”The name's Pipwolf.” He offered a hand.

Donald shook it.

”I'm a werewolf.” He tapped his nose. “That's how I helped Mickey here track you down. Scent. I was looking into this missing portal painting stuff and asked for my good friend Mickey for help.”

“The only lead he had was this Fantomius guy who had likely stolen the painting from the previous owner,” Mickey said. “And Duck Avenger who Pipwolf suspected was a rogue occupant from the Land of the Impossible. He asked my help in tracking him down and some research pointed me to his 'best friend'”

Donald nodded. “Me.”

Something dawned on him. “So you didn't run into me in Duckburg by accident?”

“No,” Mickey admitted.

Pipwolf sighed. ”This will be such a mess. I want to give Manny my report and then head off as far away as possible. I mean, she likes her bureaucracy... Two unaccompanied guests? Who have been loose in the Land of the Impossible for decades?”

”Poor guys,” Mickey said. ”You don't know the kinds of creatures there are, Donald. Two unprepared people? I fear they didn't stand a ghost of a chance.”

”I wouldn't be too sure of it,” Donald grinned.

Mickey gave him a look. ”Maybe you're right. And yes. Maybe you do know what it's like...”

Pipwolf clapped his hands. ”Anyway! I will head off. And no it's not just because I want to avoid Manny. I have a real reason. I need to check up on a Guest. He keeps wandering off. Nice duck though.”

And then, before Donald had time to ask more questions, he was gone.

”Let me guess, Pipwolf headed off before I could ask him to explain what was going on.”

Both Mickey and Donald turned to face the speaker.

She turned out to be an albino mouse.

Accompanied by Katrina Kolik and The Head of TNT.

Donald quickly saluted.

”At ease, Agent,” Katrina said. ”I want you to meet Manny. She is something of a colleague.”

”Oh?”

The albino mouse nodded. ”Even in our world, the Land of the Impossible, there needs to be rules. And people who enforce them and take care of...” She eyed Donald. ”Problems.”

Donald gave her his most innocent look.

”He won't be a problem,” Mickey said.

”We will vouch for him,” Katrina stated briskly.

Manny reached out her hand. “The painting.”

Donald looked at Katrina.

She nodded. “It's her jurisdiction. Better give it to her.”

Donald did so. Manny examined the painting.

“Ah yes. Just like I thought. It's a stable two-way portal. It seems some creatures wandered to the other end in my world and activated the portal.”

“Something tried to get through,” Mickey said. “Luckily it was too big to fit.”

“I see. By the way,” Manny turned to face Mickey. “How did you find this so fast?”

Mickey shrugged. “Donald here had a hunch.”

“Good job, Agent Duck,” Katrina said. “Although I wonder how exactly. I could swear that was classified information.”

“Uh. I was lucky?” He couldn't help adding: “I did sort of hear you thought I was unreliable.”

The Head of TNT looked embarrassed. “Maybe we jumped into conclusions. We got a tip from our contact in the Land of the Impossible here.”

“Perhaps I could have been more specific,” Manny admitted. “Our two organizations tend to avoid stepping on each other's toes. I didn't give out much information since I figured it was none of your business. I told them Mickey had a connection to us and that was all they needed to know.”

“Well, no harm done, eh?” Donald said. “You really should talk more. Communicate.”

Mickey patted his shoulder. “You're right. For starters, you might want to start by telling me what this whole TNT thing is.”

The Head turned to him. “TNT or the Tamers of Nonhuman Threats is an organization dedicated to keeping Earth safe.”

“And you're a member?” Mickey asked.

Donald nodded. “Yeah.”

He sighed. No use trying to keep things secret now. ”I guess saying I live a double life would be underselling it.”

”It's really amazing. That you can do that all. I am barely even involved with detective work and this... And I feel I'm overly stretched a lot... I don't even have custody of my nephews full-time.”

”You don't know the half of it. I have tried so hard to keep everything separate...” Donald sighed.

“That sort of a thing seems to cause more problems than anything,” The Head said. “Perhaps TNT and Manny's people should work together more. Cultivate a healthy working relationship.”

“Sounds good,” Mickey said. “Hey Donald, how about we meet up every now and then and share information?”

He saw Donald's expression. “I'm not going to drag you in into anything new. No new duties, just friendly banter between friends.

Donald wasn't all that certain. He had a suspicion this wouldn't be the last time he'd be dragged into trouble relating to this Land of the Impossible business.

But, he supposed, that was what it was like being Donald Duck.

He sighed. “That would be lovely.”

[lycorogue]

ML Secret Santa Story: The Great Debate

Holy smokes, it’s 2am! Uh, I wanted to have this done by Christmas Eve, but I guess an official Merry Christmas to my @mlsecretsanta giftee @mouserzwuzhere is now in order. So... Merry Christmas!

Sorry for the delay, it actually kept me most of this month to lock down what I wanted to write. In the end, I ended up going with something inspired by a Tumblr post. Of course, I can’t find the post now to link it, but it talked about the logistical fallacy of most Christmas movies where Santa is canonically real, but adults still don’t believe in him.

I went with mouserz preferences of fluff, friendship/family bonding, and LadyNoir. I hope this ends up being a pleasant surprise for you under your digital Christmas tree this morning. :D

UPDATE (12/25/19): You can now find the story on AO3, on FFN, and on DA as well as below.

The Great Debate

Summary: When Ladybug agreed to meet up later with Chat Noir, she never imagined they would end up discussing the validity of Santa being real. It’s funny the things you do for your loved ones.

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 4032

Status: Completed one-shot

Disclaimer: I’m ignoring the two-part season 3 finale with regards to Master Fu; pretend this takes place before that....

Ladybug breathed in the chilled, crisp night air. Her breath escaped in a thin fog. Her supersuit kept her warm, but her cheeks still flushed with the bite of wind as she swung through the city. Thankfully, the snow recently ceased, and the air was calm. Once she was at her destination she would be warmer.

Looking down the long roofs of the office buildings, she spotted a figure already perched six buildings down the street. He was there. He was waiting for her. She shifted the weight of the package nestled in the crook of her left arm, and sprinted towards her meet-up.

Chat Noir lazily kicked his legs as he leaned back on the tower roof's ledge, staring up at the sky; looking for stars he couldn't see. He hummed “Silent Night” to himself, and was on the third verse when Ladybug landed behind him.

“You're late, Bugaboo.”

“Don't-” It was on reflex, but there was no akuma around now. She simply sighed, and shook her head. “Sorry. I wanted to get something for you first.” She held out her package: a box of Tom & Sabine Bakery macarons. It was risky to bring them to Chat Noir, but it was also a bit of an impromptu meet-up.

Earlier that day, for the second Christmas Eve in a row, Hawk Moth decided to not take a vacation, and akumatized a poor distraught person. As they were fighting, Chat Noir seemed more distracted than usual, exchanging his usual ill-timed flirting for requests that they hang out again later. The more the battle wore on, the more Ladybug picked up that perhaps this get-together was something Chat Noir truly needed.

Then they defeated the villain. Ladybug purified the akuma, and used her ultimate power to restore Paris. The duo fist-bumped in front of the rush of reporters capturing the latest attack on their beloved city. Ladybug's earrings chimed that she only had two minutes remaining, and soon after Chat Noir's ring beeped for the second time. She couldn't say anything to him in front of the reporters; couldn't let Hawk Moth potentially know where they would be. Instead, she gave him a silent plead to forgive her abruptness, and swung away. Once out of sight, she used the last few precious seconds of her transformation to text Chat Noir where to meet up. She prayed that he would get the message before de-transforming.

It seemed he did.

She didn't have much time to plan a Christmas gift for Chat Noir. She didn't imagine an opportunity to gift him anything. It would be far too inappropriate while they were actively attempting to protect Paris, and she didn't want Chat Noir to get the wrong idea if she asked him for a meet-up for a gift exchange. She didn't have the time to make anything, and she barely had the time to purchase anything; most stores were already closed for the holiday. She lucked out that her parents had anything left in their bakery.

“Huh. Great minds, it seems, M'lady.” Chat Noir smirked as he grabbed a matching pastry box he had hidden beside his right hip. His contained a pair of over-stuffed cream puffs. He brushed the snow off the ledge beside him and patted the now-bare roof.

Ladybug studied Chat Noir. She sprinted through the list of patrons she saw in her parents' bakery that day, trying to remember any young men with blonde hair. None came to mind. Perhaps he had bought the cream puffs while she was in her room. Maybe that was why he was so persistent with wanting a meet-up.

“Great minds indeed.” Ladybug hummed inquisitively, but still accepted the cleared-off seat. Holding out her box to Chat Noir, she traded peppermint macarons for her puff.

“Mmm.” Chat Noir popped the macaron in his mouth in one bite. “I guess it makes sense that we'd both pick pastries from the Tom & Sabine. It is the best bakery in all of Paris, after all.”

Ladybug lightly blushed, and hoped her cheeks were already red enough from the cold for Chat Noir to not notice. “I'm sure they'd appreciate hearing that, especially from a superhero.”

“You should tell them too, then.”

She had never thought of that. “Perhaps I'll take the time to do so.” She bit into her cream puff, and quickly licked up the filling oozing out of the opposite side.

Chat Noir popped another macaron in his mouth. “Thank you for meeting up with me tonight.”

Ladybug stilled, looking deeply at Chat Noir. “You sounded like you needed it. Is everything alright?”

“It is now.” He gave her a sad little smile, and then scraped some cream out of the center of his puff.

“It's Christmas Eve, Kitty. Wouldn't you rather spend it with loved ones?”

“I thought I was.”

“Come on, be serious, Chat Noir.”

He put down his treats, and instead scooped up Ladybug's right hand, keeping her gaze. “I am serious. Please tell me that you know by now that I'm always serious with every love confession.”

“Chat Noir-”

He dropped her hand and scooted further away from her. “I know, I know. You're in love with someone else. I understand that, but it doesn't lessen my feelings for you, and how dear you are to me.”

“Kitty.”

Clearing his throat, he tossed another macaron in the air, and caught it in his mouth. “Sorry I'm keeping you from your loved ones, though.”

Ladybug rested a hand on his shoulder. “You're not. You're dear to me too, remember?”

They finished their treats with small, simple, stupid conversation. They talked about nothing in particular, for fear of giving something away that would reveal themselves, and yet they said a lot with the way they each talked about being a superhero, or how they felt about the past year, or even about the weather.

“How could you not love the snow?” Ladybug gathered the empty pastry boxes, and tucked them beside her.

“It's lonely.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Most people stay inside; isolated in their homes. Paris isn't as bustling as normal. It's quiet.”

“See, that's one of the things I like about the snow.” Ladybug scooped some off the roof, and started packing it into a ball. “It absorbs sound, you know. That's why Paris seems so quiet and serene when it snows. The lights then reflect off the crisp white, and the city just seems clean and new. It seems safe.”

“It is safe, with you as its savior.”

“Yeah, well you're not too bad yourself there, Kitty.” They shared a smile. “Besides, snow isn't lonely. It's inviting. Families huddle together to drink cocoa as they watch the snow. Friends play together making snow angels or snowmen, or race on sleds, or build forts together, or have snowball fights.”

Chat Noir's face fell, so Ladybug threw her freshly formed snowball at his shoulder.

“Hey!” He quickly packed his own snowball, but Ladybug was faster and hit him with another one. “Okay! Okay, I submit!” He dropped his snowball, and held his hands over his head.

“Haven't you ever just played in the snow? How could you not feel the magic of it while you dance under a soft snow fall, or catch flakes on your tongue, or simply lay in the cold silence, just feeling at peace with the world?”

“I'll have to keep all of those in mind the next time it snows.”

“Good.”

Another soft, shared look as they each offered the other a gentle smile.

Church bells softly rang in the distance; breaking the spell as Chat Noir turned to the sound.

“It's getting late. Should we head home? Don't want to chance Santa passing us up since we aren't asleep.”

“Wait, Santa?”

“Yeah. You think he's in the area already? I mean, I really couldn't ask for a better gift than to spend time with you, M'lady, but I wouldn't want to push my luck with the Big Guy in Red.”

“Chat Noir, do you still believe in Santa Claus?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, and playfully smirked.

“I mean, are you telling me you don't?” His face scrunched up as he stared incredulously at her. “We literally saw him! Twice!”

“First of all, those were both during akuma attacks, so who truly knows what is and isn't real during those? Secondly, Santa Claws seemed to just be a friendly old man who dressed up as Santa; not Jolly Old Saint Nick himself, and his 'Santa' powers were because of the akumatization. So he doesn't count. Finally, I'd hate to break it to you, but the Santa we met when Paris was overwhelmed by giant attacking toys wasn't real. It was Chris Master's powers manifesting his interpretation of Santa: the Santa in his snow globe.” Ladybug rested a comforting hand on Chat Noir's arm.

“How do you know that wasn't the real Santa? He said he'd see us next Christmas Eve; tonight!”

“He said that because it was what Chris wanted Santa to say.”

“How do you know that, though?”

Ladybug's breath hitched, and she simply shrugged. “What? You can have Cat Intuition about how the Agreste mansion security works or the fact that Volpina had an illusion instead of the actual Adrien Agreste, but I can't have Ladybug Intuition about whether or not that was the real Santa?”

Chat Noir studied her for a tell, but eventually caved. “Okay, you got me on that second meet-up with Santa; that probably wasn't the real one. Although, you were the top of his Nice list, so maybe you should hope that your Ladybug Intuition was off, and that was really him.” He winked. She groaned. “Either way, he looked a lot like the man who got akumatized into Santa Claws, which means it could be possible that the man last Christmas was in fact the true Santa, but was posing as a regular citizen.”

“Why? Especially on Christmas Eve itself? Wouldn't he be too busy delivering gifts?” Ladybug tried to keep the smug look off her face, but Chat Noir's lips kept puckering more and more with each question. She could tell that he was trying to build up a rebuttal.

Chat Noir opened his mouth to respond, pointing at her in stunned silence. A second later he relented, shrugging in defeat instead. “Alright, so maybe we haven't met the actual Santa, but that doesn't mean he's not real.”

“He might have been, once. There could have been someone who spent Christmas Eve delivering gifts to the children of a very large area – so that it felt like it was the whole world to those people – and the legend of Santa came from that, but I don't know if I trust that he's still real.”

“Well, why not? I knew you could be pragmatic, but even this seems a bit much for you.”

“He'd be well over a millennium old, for starters.”

“Yeah, but what about Master Fu?”

“There's a bit of a difference between two-hundred and two-thousand years, Chat Noir.”

“Still, Master is as old as he is largely because of the magic of the Miraculouses, isn't he?”

“Possibly.”

“So why is it such a stretch that Santa has magic of his own, and part of it is the long life, or even immortality? The Miraculouses can't be the only form of magic within the whole world, can they?”

She gave it thought. “Alright, valid point. What about the gifts, though?”

Chat Noir lounged across the roof and dismissively waved his hand. “I already told you: magic. He probably has a bag with access to a pocket dimension or some-”

“No.”

Chat Noir rocked his head to the side. Ladybug pivoted to face him, folding her legs in front of her as she anchored her hands to her ankles.

“No,” she repeated, “I'm not even talking about the plausibility of him carrying all the gifts with him or getting in and out of people's homes. If I'm going to agree with him nearing two-thousand years old because of magic, I'll concede on those other magical parts.”

“Okay, so what's wrong with the presents then?”

Ladybug scooted closer to Chat Noir and leaned a little towards him, energy buzzing off of her. “If Santa Claus truly delivers presents every Christmas Eve, then why is it that most adults don't believe in him? Wouldn't him delivering gifts to their children convince the parents that he's real? Since a large portion – probably even a majority – of adults are also parents, wouldn't someone somewhere have factual evidence of his existence by now? Or, at least, wouldn't it be a much more widespread belief, even among adults, that he's alive?”

Chat Noir sat up, hugging one leg to his chest. His eyebrows furrowed, and he wouldn't look at Ladybug.

“I mean, think about it,” Ladybug continued, rolling onto her knees as she began to gesture wildly. “You and your wife wake up Christmas morning, and gather around the tree with your kid- You're picturing me as your wife, and imagining what our kid would look like, aren't you?”

Chat Noir sheepishly smiled and shrugged.

“Never mind that. Not the point.” Ladybug waved the thought away. “So your kid is opening up gifts, finds one that is labeled 'from Santa,' and unwraps it. You don't recognize this gift. You haven't purchased it for your kid. You may just think your wife must have gotten it and not told you, so you let it go. But this keeps happening every year, so you finally ask your wife, and she tells you she always thought you were the one who bought those gifts, because she certainly didn't. Isn't that suspicious? A random present from neither of you managed to make its way under your tree? Every year? Wouldn't you want to figure out who put it there? And you hear your friends – who are also parents – saying the same thing happened for each of their kids. Wouldn't that alone be enough evidence for most parents to believe that Santa must be real, because what other explanation is there for the mystery gifts?”

Chat Noir tapped his chin with two fingers, scanning the clouds for answers. “Yeah, I guess that's true.”

“On the flip-side, if Santa doesn't actually leave any presents - so that parents don't question where they came from - then why does it matter if he's real, because he still isn't going to be coming to everyone's houses unless it's to eat the cookies.”

“I got it!” Chat Noir snapped and turned back towards Ladybug, he was also up on his knees, waving excitedly. “Magic again.”

“How so?”

“Santa's magic is memory focused. He doesn't actually use chimneys – which really helps explain all those homes without fire places – instead, he arrives just before the parents lock up for the night, and he uses his magic to make them believe they already did. He then enters, leaves the present, and locks the door behind him as he goes on his merry way. His magic then makes the parents believe they had munched on the cookies to give the illusion of Santa, and that they were the ones who purchased the gift for little Julien. The question of 'who got him that present' never comes up, and Santa still remains a glorious holiday mystery.”

“What if the parents, still disbelieving of Santa, already bought little Mary a gift from 'Santa' and already ate the cookies before going to bed?”

“Then Santa saves on unneeded calories, and he switches up the 'Santa' for 'Mom and Dad'. Then his power works exactly the same way; except this time it also makes them think they didn't label the one gift as from 'Santa' at first.”

“It's still too many homes to leave presents for in one night.” Ladybug sat on her heels and crossed her arms.

“I thought you were going to concede on all of the 'other magic stuff'?”

Ladybug shrugged.

“Okay.” Chat Noir thought for a moment. “What if his powers also allows him to teleport? Or to slow time? Or to pause time? We have Miraculouses that could do some pretty crazy things, after all.” Chat Noir's ears perked and his belt-tail twitched as if it were real. “Wait a minute! What if Santa has a Miracle Box? That feast amuk was encased in stone before leaving Tibet, and we stopped it while it was still in Paris, so what if it didn't have a chance to make it to Santa to eat his Miraculous?”

“Master would have told me if Santa was one of the guardians.”

“What if he didn't know? What if there were Guardians secretly placed throughout the world, and for their safety, the monastery Master Fu trained at didn't have their names?”

“And he only uses the Miraculous once a year to provide extra Christmas gifts?”

Chat Noir started counting out his points on his fingers. “He's not using the Miraculous for his personal  gain, so it's not breaking any rules. He's providing joy and wonderment to the world. He's making sure every kid gets at least one gift they'll love, regardless of the parents' financial or emotional standing. We don't know what he does with the rest of the year, so maybe he's protecting the world just like us, but with his memory-altering Miraculous powers, the world just never figures it out.”

Ladybug simply stared at Chat Noir. He held his ground and kept her gaze.

“Alright.” Ladybug pivoted on the roof ledge, and dangled her legs below her. “I relent that there's a possibility that Santa is real.”

“And a Miraculous Guardian?”

“It's a stretch, but I guess I can't argue against it. Not right now, anyway.”

“So does that mean you'll wait up for him?”

“No, that means there's no point. If he is real, and he does have a way of altering memories, then I doubt he'd let either of us remember seeing him. He's been doing this for over seventeen-hundred years, after all.” She gave Chat Noir a side smile.

“I guess that's true.” Chat Noir deflated a little and sat beside her.

“Besides, I thought you wanted to go to bed so you didn't chance missing out on your gift from him,” she teased.

Chat Noir curled into himself and blushed, again unable to look at Ladybug. She instantly knew she went too far. She couldn't say goodbye to him like that.

Ladybug detached her yo-yo, and looked intently at it. Chat Noir followed her out of the corner of his eye.

“Ladybug?”

She gave him the tiniest hint of a devilish grin while pressing a finger to her lips and shushing him. “Don't tell on me, okay?”

“Tell?”

Ladybug threw her yo-yo straight up, calling out “Lucky Charm!”

“What are you doing?” Chat Noir again hopped up onto his knees as he studied her. “What about no personal gain?”

The charm landed in Ladybug's hand, and she closed her fist around it before Chat Noir could make out the small red object with black spots.

“I think this one can be allowed.” Ladybug re-attached her yo-yo to her hip, and stood on the main portion of the roof. With Chat Noir still seated on the ledge, they were about eye-level.

He tried to spy her charm, but she kept her hand hidden behind her back. “So, what convoluted plan do you have for that?” He stood to try to look over her shoulder, but she blocked him with a stiff arm.

“Nothing too bad. Now sit back down.” She pushed gently on his chest, and he plopped his butt back onto the roof ledge. “Perfect.”

She then placed her hand in between them and unfolded her fingers. Resting on her palm was a tiny sprig of mistletoe, although, with the red coloring and black spots, it looked more like holly. With her spare hand, Ladybug held the Lucky Charm mistletoe sprig over their heads, then leaned in to kiss Chat Noir. Giddily, he rose to meet her, his hands reaching out for her waist as he puckered up and eyes fluttered closed.

She giggled, and used a finger to turn his head so she could kiss him on the cheek instead.

Chat Noir pouted and sunk back onto the roof. “You're supposed to kiss on the lips under a mistletoe.”

“Sorry, Kitty, but I do still love someone else.” She flicked his bell, and placed the sprig of mistletoe beside them. “I will give you one more gift though.” She cupped a hand on either side of his face, and pulled it towards her. Angling his head down a bit, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and then rested hers against it. “Merry Christmas, Kitty.”

Chat Noir wrapped his arms around Ladybug and squeezed her close to him; breathing her in. “Thank you, Ladybug. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

She let him hold her for a moment, and she held him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. With their eyes closed, and the normally bustling city quiet with snow, it didn't feel like there was anyone else in all of Paris but the two of them. It only lasted a moment, but it was calming for them both.

He's right here, Ladybug thought, he's not Chat Blanc, and I'll stop him from ever feeling that desperate and alone.

She's here, Chat Noir thought, she loves someone else, but for right now she's here and I can pretend for a few seconds that I'm the one she's in love with.

The thought didn't make Chat Noir purr, as it usually did; instead, a small whimper escaped his throat.

“Chat Noir?” Ladybug leaned away from him, breaking the illusion.

“Sorry. I had a moment, but I'm fine. Thank you again for spending time with me tonight.”

“No problem, Kitty. As long as you don't want us to make a habit out of this.” She ruffled up his hair until he broke his hug in a giggling retreat. “You are a friend of mine, Chat Noir,” Ladybug continued in a serious tone. “I want to be here for you whenever you need me, and I do enjoy spending time with you, as long as you're not flirting.” She cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest.

Chat Noir meekly smiled back as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Is my flirting really that bad?”

She simply raised the second eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“In love with another guy,” Chat Noir sighed, “Right.”

She took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. “You'll find someone. I promise. She'll see the amazing Chat Noir that I do, but she'll get to know your actual name, and her heart will be only for you.”

Before Chat Noir could respond – and Ladybug knew he wanted to – she let go, and lassoed a nearby light post. “Merry Christmas again, Chat Noir.”

He gave her a genuine smile in return. “Merry Christmas, M'lady.” He said nothing else, and Ladybug was grateful. Her earrings started rapidly beeping. It had only been about three minutes, but Tikki always seemed to wear out faster if Ladybug used her Lucky Charm for personal reasons. She probably didn't have much time left.

“Let me know if you do catch Santa,” Ladybug teased. She then scooped up the empty pastry boxes,  and loosened the tension on her yo-yo, sling-shotting her through the Paris skyline.

Chat Noir looked at the discarded Lucky Charm sprig of mistletoe, and brought it up to his lips. The trinket cut their evening together short, but it was worth it for those kisses, and that hug. A couple of seconds later, the sprig burst into pink glitter that vanished in the air; like a miniature firework. Ladybug must have de-transformed, and the Lucky Charm vanished with her other superpowers.

Chat Noir no longer had his keepsake from the night, but he had his memories. Those were enough, and he trusted he'd make many more with Ladybug over the years.

Now he had to figure out how to capture Santa so he could prove to his lady that he was right.

[wickedsingularity]

Mittens [Part 1]

wickedsingularity’s Christmas Stories 2018 Masterlist

Fandom: MCU Pairings/characters: Steve Rogers x reader (but not really), all Avengers pre AOU Words: 4297 Warnings: Fluff, bad flirting, too much knitting, kissing

Prompt/summary: Thor wants to try Secret Santa for Christmas. Someone has something special in mind for Steve, and makes damn sure she picks his name.

Mittens Part 2 >>

"I have an idea." Thor came trampling into the kitchen, slamming Mjølnir down on the counter. He shook snow out of his blond hair, the soppy flakes landing on the counter.

"Honestly, Thor," I chastised, sweeping my arm across the surface and wiping the snow away with my pyjama arm.

"My apologies. But I have an idea. Where are the others?"

"Exercising," Clint answered with a yawn. "Too awake in the morning for their own good."

Clint, Tony and I were always the ones having a late breakfast. Natasha, Bruce and Steve were always up way before the crack of dawn, putting the rest of us to shame.

"What's your idea, Point Break?" Tony asked, filling the coffee pot with freshly brewed coffee.

"Jane and I watched a movie last night, and there was this concept called Secret Santa." Thor almost bounced on his feet as he spoke, clearly very excited about his idea. "I would like to try it."

"I'm game." Tony refilled the coffee cup Clint had been holding out ever since Tony starting brewing a fresh batch.

"Me too," I said. I had never been part of Secret Santa before and thought it could be a fun thing to boost the Christmas spirit around the compound.

Thor looked around, grinning. "Barton?"

"Sure. Could be fun."

And so it was that the Avengers were going to do Secret Santa. Clint and Thor took it upon themselves to arrange it, and three weeks before Christmas all of us were gathering in the common area to pick names. I was sitting in my favourite seat, taking in the decorated room while waiting for the stragglers Steve and Bruce. I had just gotten home from a week-long mission and had only seen Pepper getting the boys to bring out all the boxes of decorations before I left.

It was beautiful, to say the least.

There was a giant tree in front of the floor to ceiling windows, packed with stylish and colourful ornaments and warm white lights. Poinsettias scattered around the room. Garlands across the edge of the bar and along the bannisters. Wreaths that matched the tree on every other window pane. The decorative cushions on the couch and chairs were exchanged with large plush snowmen or stylized Christmas trees. A few strategically placed mistletoe.

"Enjoying the view?" Someone suddenly stood in front of me and I looked up.

"Steve! Hi! Yeah, Pepper's done a great job."

"How was the mission?" He sat down next to me on the couch.

"It's all in the report."

"That bad?"

I just grunted and he chuckled.

"Okay, now that we're all here," Clint began, "it's time to get this started."

Thor stepped up with a small glass bowl filled with slips of paper. "Barton has relayed the rules for me and we have adapted them for us. You will each pull a name from this bowl –"

"No using powers or assassin abilities or other sneaky skills to pick an easy name!" Clint interrupted.

"Certainly not! And you will have to find a gift you think they will enjoy and mark it with their name only. We'll open them together on Christmas morning and guess who they're from. Don't tell anyone who you picked!"

"Everyone understands the rules?" Clint asked.

"It's not rocket science, Hawkeye. Yes, we understand," Natasha said impatiently, blowing him a raspberry. She was first in line and Thor approached her, holding out the bowl. She looked at Clint as she reached inside and started rummaging around.

"No assassin abilities!" Clint reminded her.

She didn't reply but kept staring at him as she grabbed a piece of paper, pulled it out. She read the name quickly before crumpling the paper in her hand.

Steve was up next. "If we pick our own name?"

"Put it back in and try again," Thor explained.

Steve nodded and reached inside and was quick to pull out. He held his hand close to his face and unfolded the paper. "We're good."

Then it was my turn. No powers they said. I could feel Clint's gaze burning into me as Thor held out the bowl. But I'd gotten an idea during my mission, and pulled on a thread of the energy running through my veins as I raised my hand towards the bowl. I trusted my instincts completely and let my fingers slip around a certain piece of paper, ignoring all the others. Withdrawing my hand, I felt the paper was comfortably warm in my hand, letting me know it was the right one. Feigning ignorance, I opened it just enough to see the name, shielding it in my hands.

Steve

"No powers?" Thor enquired.

I looked up, straight into his stormy blue eyes. "No powers." Good thing I was a good liar. He nodded and moved on to Tony and then Bruce and Clint, until he grabbed the remaining name for himself.

The entire room got very quiet. Only the faint car honk or siren outside was heard. Everyone kept a firm hold on the piece of paper in their hands, and the tension could be cut with a knife. Something that was supposed to be fun and exciting, suddenly felt like it became deadly serious.

"I'm going to go... get started on this," Natasha said, rising slowly from her seat and walking backwards towards the exit. The rest of us got up to go our separate ways too, and Natasha almost ran from the room.

"Did you get a good name?" Steve asked as we were walking out.

"Yeah, pretty happy with it. Already know what I'm getting them," I replied, giving him a wink before hurrying off, accompanied by Tony's laughter.

Safe and alone in my room, I immediately went to pull out a box full of yarn and knitting supplies from under the bed. I pulled out a half-finished pair of socks that was in there and laid them on the bed, along with a couple balls of yarn to finish them up. Then I sat down on the floor and looked through the heaps of unused skeins. Holding a few up and judging the colour combinations and the softness of the yarn. Finally settling on a few shades of blue, I tossed them onto the bed too and pushed the box under the bed again.

Yeah, I used my powers and cheated to pick Steve's name from the bowl. Ever since I met him, I noticed that he never wore mittens or gloves during winter. I knew his body temperature was a lot warmer because of his increased metabolism and he probably didn't need to cover his hands other than those sinfully delicious fingerless gloves he used for practicality during missions. But having been brought up by parents who wrapped me up in scarves and hats and mittens and thermal underwear and all kinds of warm clothes during harsh winters, I felt he needed at least one pair of good mittens for everyday use. I wanted him to be comfortable.

And of course, I had a huge crush on the man and hadn't yet figured out if or how I should act on it. I had a feeling he wasn't completely uninterested in me and thought this would be a good opportunity to test the waters.

The next couple of days I worked on finishing the pair of socks first. I spent so much time in the common areas and in meetings and briefings and they were all used to me bringing my knitting with me, even on missions. If I wanted to finish Steve's present before Christmas, I had to knit whenever I could, and I didn't want anyone to suspect that I was making presents. Once the big and fluffy socks were finished, I pulled them on and they were now my new favourite pair of snuggly socks to wear at home.

Steve's mittens were up next. I got some questions about who they were for when I first started them, and I just said I was knitting for charity. No one questioned that, as I often did knit for the local shelters and various organisations every winter.

One rare and quiet evening, I was sitting in my usual seat in the living room. Tony and Bruce were up in the lab, the faint sound of Christmassy rock coming from up there. Steve and Thor were pouring over papers and tablets, trying to find out where we might look for the sceptre next. Natasha was flipping through the channels, her legs in my lap and I rested my arms on them while I worked away at the first blue shaded mitten. Clint was sitting on the floor in front of Nat and me, grilling marshmallows on a log candle on the table.

"Hey, boys," I said, getting their attention. "Hold up a hand please!"

"What for?" Clint asked, but held up his hand anyway.

"Just want to make sure it's a decent manly sized mitten before I bind off." I held the knitting up against all three hands. It could fit them all, so I was good to go. "Thanks! Such big strong hands you all got." I winked at them, and Natasha snickered.

As I got back to the knitting and started binding off, Clint set down his stick with a half-eaten marshmallow on and grabbed the skein I was currently using. "It's so soft," he said, rubbing it against his cheek. "Can I convince you to give them to me, rather than charity?"

"This pair, not on your life. It goes where it's intended. But I'd be happy to knit a pair especially for you. Purple?"

"Yes, please! You're the best!" He leaned his head back and made a kissy face.

There was a small cough from Steve. I turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, but he just grabbed a tablet again and moved his finger in a hasty motion over the screen.

Having a finished mitten to use as a template, I quickly started on the second one during a meeting the next day, earning an amused shake of the head from Steve as he led the meeting. I finished it that same evening and hid the pair safely in my closet and in the morning, I headed out to find some purple yarn for Clint. His pair took a fair few days to finish, I had too many other things to do, and Steve sent me and Natasha on a recon mission, having possibly found the location of the sceptre.

It was just a couple of days left before Christmas when I decided to make Steve a second pair. I still witnessed him walking in and out of the tower in the chilly, biting winter wind, and it was just the incentive I needed to make a second pair that he could alternate with. I used red yarn this time.

I was sitting by the bar one evening knitting away and keeping Tony company as he stocked up on alcohol for the holidays. Steve wandered in with his hair all wet from clearly having just showered. He sat down next to me and glanced at the knitting several times as we talked. He'd seen me doing this many times before, and I'd even knitted a cover for his shield on a dare once, but he seemed very interested in it all of a sudden.

"How many pairs have you knitted for charity this month?" he asked suddenly.

"Just three," I replied. I had felt guilty for saying I was doing it for charity and not actually having anything to give away, I had squeezed in a few projects in between everything else I'd made. "And two hats and a scarf. Haven't had time for more than that. You've given me too much work, Captain." I winked and swear I saw him blush lightly.

"I've asked her to make me a pair of socks since I've worn out the pair she got me last year," Tony said. "But she just tells me she doesn't have time." He feigned deeply insulted.

"If you're nice, you'll get some for New Year's." I winked at him and he winked back.

That strange coughing sound came from Steve again, drawing my attention back to him. "It's nice that you're doing this for charity every year," he said, a small smile on his lips, the kind that made my heart skip a beat.

"Yes, well..." I shrugged, looking back down at my work. "I like knitting, it relaxes me. And there's only so much I can drown friends and family in, so why not do something useful with it."

"You should ask her to knit you something, Capsicle," Tony suggested before disappearing down behind the bar to tear open another box of some expensive wine. "Maybe a cock-warmer?" He stood up again, a bottle of wine in each hand. "That's a thing, right?"

I felt my face go hot for a moment and glanced at Steve, who was definitely blushing now. "That's a thing, yeah. I know how to make one. Don't ask me why, but I do."

"You can't say that and not expect me to ask!"

"I don't kiss and tell." Figuring that was my cue to leave before being interrogated, I winked at Steve, slid off the barstool and sauntered out, a red skein tucked safely under my arm.

Christmas morning finally arrived. It was all so perfectly fairy-tale like when I walked into the common area in my snowman pyjamas and those big fluffy socks I had made for myself. We'd gotten a light snowfall during the night, it was dark and the skies were clear for now, allowing us to see a small handful of stars through the light pollution from the city. Most of the Avengers were there already, but looking very tired after Pepper's gigantic Christmas dinner the night before.

I flopped down in my usual seat, pulling my feet up under me and greeting everyone with a "Merry Christmas". A few greeted tiredly in reply. It had really been a gigantic dinner, and it had gotten pretty late and there had been a tad too much alcohol for some.

The last stragglers finally came in, our honorary Avengers and guests for the holidays, Sam and Rhodey, followed by Steve. The latter sat down next to me and laid a hand on my knee briefly, wishing me Merry Christmas.

"Thank you for dinner last night, Pepper," Rhodey said, grabbing the last available seat on the couch.

"You're welcome, James," Pepper replied. She had just emerged from the bar with a pot of steaming hot chocolate and began pouring it into the mugs set out on the coffee table. "I'm glad everyone had a chance to attend this year."

"Shall we get started?" Thor asked, being almost the only one without a hangover and awake enough to feel eager. He had always been fascinated with Midgardian holiday traditions, so it was no surprise that he was already moving towards the Christmas tree to begin handing out presents.

We started with the Secret Santa presents first. We all went in turn, everyone curious about what everyone had gotten.

Bruce got a new lab coat with the muscles of the Hulk printed on them, he claimed to be insulted, but he did put it on and wore it the rest of the morning. He thought it might be from Tony, but turned out Clint had special ordered it for him. Natasha got two shiny, golden daggers with a very obvious Asgardian design, which she seemed to already cherish. Tony got a signed AC/DC box set that he handled as if it would break if anyone breathed on it. Bruce said he thought he'd never use his superhero status for "personal gain" but anyone could see that whatever bad karma Bruce thought he'd get, was cancelled out by how happy Tony was. Clint got a gift basket with a whole variety of coffee beans and chocolate bites to go with each type of bean, and after guessing correctly that Natasha had given it to him, she just said he hoped it meant he would be awake enough to be on time for training after this.

Then it was Steve's turn. He poked and prodded the badly wrapped gift for a bit, then unwrapped it so slowly and carefully I thought I would explode. When the two pairs of red and blue mittens were revealed, he just looked at them for what felt like an hour.

"Weren't the present supposed to be secret until unwrapped?" Bruce asked.

"It was," Thor said.

"No one knew who they were really for," I said, swallowing my nerves, afraid that Steve didn't like them.

But then his fingers moved over the top mitten as if caressing it, before looking up at me with slight confusion in his bright blue eyes.

I tried not to let him see how anxious I was. "I've noticed you never wear anything on your hands when you're out and about, and I know you probably don't need it. But... it's cold, and I just thought..." I shrugged.

"I love them," he said quietly. "Thank you."

I breathed out, stomach doing a somersault. "Oh good."

The room got very quiet and I was just staring at Steve's hand still testing the softness of the yarn.

"You turn," Thor said, nudging me from his seat on my other side.

"Right, right. Sorry." I felt a blush creep up my face, but I pretended like nothing and began untying the red ribbon on the really big black box decorated with silver snowflakes. There were now only two people left whose gifts hadn't been opened, Tony and Steve. My heart started hammering a violent tattoo in my chest as I came to the realisation that Steve might have picked me. I lifted the lid and found a huge cookie jar inside, filled to the brim with Rocky Road. "Oh my God, I love Rocky Road!" I exclaimed and looked first at Tony, whose face was blank, then Steve, who shrugged.

"They're homemade," Tony then said. "But I didn't make them, they're safe! Pepper knows a guy."

"How did you know these are my favourite at Christmas?"

Tony smirked as only he could. "I have my sources."

"Thanks, Tony." I opened the lid and grabbed a bite, it was delicious, and probably not good for me at all.

Thor was the last one, and Steve had gotten him a big heavy book about all kinds of Christmas traditions from all over the world, and Thor was over the moon.

"Now that your little game is over, can the rest of us open our presents?" Sam asked, fingers already digging into the wrapping paper on the soft looking present in his lap.

Chaos ensued and there were crumpled wrapping paper and curly ribbon and forgotten labels all over the place in a matter of minutes, all hangovers temporarily cured, everyone acting like children. I hadn't gotten a big haul, but I got a bunch more yarn, a new pair of combat gloves, a calendar book I had been drooling over, and a big snow globe with Santa and his sleigh inside.

Once things began calming down, I drank the rest of my hot chocolate, and then piled my presents in my arms and stood up. "I'm going to go put this away before breakfast," I said.

"Yeah, me too," Natasha said and quickly gathered her own pile and followed me out. Safely out of earshot, she caught up and nudged me with her shoulder. "Nicely done with Steve's present."

"What do you mean?" I asked quickly, not looking at her.

"Nothing. Just... Nicely done. Clever."

I didn't say anything until I reached my door. Then I turned to her and grinned. "Thanks."

I opened the door, carefully balancing the presents in my arms, Natasha was already down the hall. But then she called out. "You didn't use your powers, did you?"

"You're the spy, you tell me," I replied and slipped inside, closing the door quickly behind me. I wasn't sure, but she may have laughed.

Just a few minutes later, there was a knock on my door. I was on the floor in front of the bed, trying to make room in my box for all the new yarn, the jar of Rocky Road next to me. "Open the door for me, JARVIS?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The door swung open, but I didn't look up to see who it was.

"You're going to ruin your breakfast if you keep eating that." Steve was standing by the foot of the bed, arms crossed, but an amused look on his face. I had just stuffed my face with another bite of Rocky Road.

"Schteve!" I exclaimed, chewing quickly and swallowing.

He bent down and stole a piece from the jar, then sat down on the bed. "Mmm, they're delicious."

"Worth ruining breakfast for?"

"I don't know about that. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you want to do it right."

"Oh, what do you know, Rogers." I blew him a raspberry and went back to stuffing skeins into the box and there was a slightly awkward silence for a bit.

But then Steve spoke. "Uhm, the mittens," he began.

My head snapped up, a skein clutched in each hand. "You didn't like them?"

"I love them, I really do. They're so soft and so beautiful and... Well." He grinned a bit. "But... I just got to ask... Because..." I dropped the yarn into the box. A light red tinge crept up his face and he seemed very interested in my desk chair. "I thought one was supposed to keep it a secret. And I... I don't know. Never mind." He suddenly stood up and strode towards the door.

But, without allowing myself to think, I pulled on the energy inside me and was up and slipped between him and the door before he could reach the handle. "Stop," I said, laying a hand on his chest, but dropping it quickly. "I cheated," I admitted.

"Cheated?" Steve frowned down at me.

"I used my powers to choose your name for Secret Santa."

"Why?"

Now it was my turn to blush and stumble over my words. I looked down at his shoes. "I wanted to. I wanted to... I don't know... I thought it'd be a way to show you... To see if..." I sighed. I was a badass avenger, I had strong powers, I could face aliens and monsters and unbelievable evil, but this goddamn man was tongue-tying me just by being alive. Just because he had those beautiful blue eyes I could stare at forever, because he had that soft blond hair I wanted to bury my hands in. Because he was so warm and kind and had that huge golden heart that made his smile look like the sun. Because he was so tall and strong and I always felt safe in his presence, but still couldn't get my words out right. "I kinda have feelings for you," I said finally, still looking at his shoes.

"So you cheated and chose my name and knitted me mittens?"

I still didn't look at him, sure I would see rejection in his eyes. But then his fingers were on my chin and made me move my head up. I still couldn't see what his expression was because I kept my gaze downward, but it didn't matter, because his lips captured mine and I couldn't open my eyes if I wanted to.

His lips were even softer than I had imagined, somewhere in the back of my mind I recognized the lingering taste of hot chocolate on him, but my stomach was doing all kinds of flips and jumps and I couldn't focus on much of anything except how his lips felt.

All too soon though, he broke the kiss but leaned his forehead against mine, warm breath wafting over me, hand falling to my shoulder. "I wish I could knit," he whispered.

It was so far from anything I had expected, that I pulled back and frowned at him, but he just grinned, slowly opening his eyes. "Okay. I could... teach you?"

Steve slid one arm around my waist to pull me flush against him and moved his hand up to cradle my face. "If we're going to communicate with knitted clothes, I should make you two pairs of mittens too."

It took a few seconds for the meaning of his words to sink in. But then my stomach began doing even more acrobatics. "We can use words," I said breathlessly.

Steve closed the gap between us again. My eyes fluttered closed, but he didn't kiss me. Instead, his lips were close enough so I could sense them. "I kinda have feelings for you too," he said and I felt the words against my lips. "And I told Tony you love Rocky Road."

"Oh," was all I could get out before he was on me, warm and sweet. I stumbled back half a step and was then trapped between Steve and the door. This kiss was so much more, tongues wrestling with each other, lips melding together, and I could definitely taste the hot chocolate on him now, the Rocky Road too. My hands went up around his neck, tugging lightly on the short hairs there. Steve pressed me against the door and the room was suddenly too hot, was the sun inside?

Loud shouting, the sound of running and then squealing out in the hall broke our moment and we pulled apart breathlessly. I couldn't help the giggle that left me.

"Breakfast?" Steve asked.

"Yes, please."

Mittens Part 2 >>

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[witcherislovewitcherislife]

My gift for @captainofthekryptonspacemarines for Steggy Secret Santa 2018

I am very sorry for how extremely late this is. It is difficult for me to write with a lack of motivation and I have been busier than usual these last few months. But I finally got it done. I really hope it was worth the wait and I hope you enjoy! :)

You said you enjoyed domestic life fics so that is what I wrote. Also, some there is some Star Wars stuff because you said you liked sci-fi. :)

The Perfect Gift

As a child, Christmas was always one of Steve's favorite days of the year. He and his mother had very little, they were already poor when the Great Depression came and then things just got worse. But his mother always made sure that Christmas was special. Every year she bought Steve a new comic book, replaced some old art supplies, and got him a chocolate treat. Steve knew that she had to take extra shifts on top of her doubles already as a nurse just to earn the extra money. And he would be eternally grateful for that.

Now, around a hundred years later and having a family of his own, Steve made sure to make Christmas for his family just as special as his mother had made it for him. Every year, the Rogers-Carter family would cut down their own Christmas tree. Peggy and their two children always loved to see Steve lift the tree up with ease and carry it to the truck (borrowed from Tony of course) and throw it into the truck bed.

Often, the two little gremlins that Steve and Peggy called their children would wrap themselves around Steve’s legs like monkeys trying to hold him back with no avail.

They’d take the tree to their home in the suburbs of Washington D.C. and spend the evening decorating it with various ornaments. Some store-bought and some homemade. Sarah, Peggy and Steve’s daughter and eldest child had her father’s knack for art. Steve and her would make various ornaments for the tree, ranging from little drawings to larger clay figures that Sarah loved to craft. Their younger son, Michael, got the job of choosing what would go on top of the tree. He always chose a small replica of his father’s shield over a star or an angel.

The day before Christmas, Auntie Angie (as Sarah referred to her) would visit and bake cookies with the children. Sarah liked to bake them in the shape of her mother’s fedora and Michael liked frosting them to look like his father’s shield. Michael liked to sneak their dog Dodger cookies under the table while he thought no one was looking, his little giggle giving himself away each time. Steve and Peggy usually noticed but never minded as long as their son was happy.

Peggy was always unsure what to get Steve for Christmas. Steve’s gifts were almost always homemade, putting his amazing art skills and creativity to good use. For their first Christmas together in the modern age, Peggy went the comedic route. She knew Steve loathed Captain America merchandise, having his superhero identity plastered all over items ranging from clothing, stuffed animals, and mugs to the X-Rated items for the more adventurous fans of his had always made him a bit uncomfortable. But for Christmas, she had bought him a surprisingly well detailed Captain America bobblehead and a Halloween costume of his original USO uniform. She giggled as he unwrapped it, joking to him about how he could finally dress up as his favorite superhero. The laughter the gift gave them both was a gift in and of itself. And as much as Steve didn’t like Captain America merchandise normally, he loved it coming from Peggy. He still kept the bobblehead on his office desk till this day and kept the costume in storage because he would cherish anything coming from her. Peggy had to admit that she rather liked some of the items though. She owned several articles of Captain America clothing, an adorable stuffed bear version of Steve, and one of her favorite mugs donned his shield insignia.

Nature did Peggy’s job for her on their second Christmas together. The sonogram picture of their first child was sure to take Steve by surprise. Steve ended up being open-mouthed and awestruck. Peggy being pregnant was the best news he had gotten since the news that she was staying in the modern day to be with him, timelines be damned. “Best gift ever,” Steve had said and she couldn’t have been happier.

The couple decided against getting presents for each other on their third Christmas. Deciding instead to focus on the new addition to their family. Peggy did break the rule slightly however, buying herself some lingerie to model for Steve.

“There was no rule against buying ourselves a gift, my darling,” Peggy said, stalking towards him slowly.

“From this angle it looks like this is a gift for me too,” Steve had replied with a wide smirk on his face. Finally getting to spend some one on one time with his gorgeous wife after months of only fleeting moments in between the cries from a hungry baby. Sarah always chose the worst moments to decide it was time to eat.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you in this if I’m honest.”

“You’re a perv, Peg.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The years kept going by and Peggy kept having to be creative come Christmas time. One year Peggy had gotten a new compass made for Steve. This time the compass opened to a picture of Peggy holding beautiful little Sarah. Steve absolutely loved it. The compass always pointing north and always pointing home.

Steve tended to go the homemade route. He liked to put his art skills to use and make something personal and unique.

A few years ago however, Steve got the chance to do something a little different. Tony Stark, with the help of Hank Pym, Hope van Dyne, and Scott Lang had finally unraveled the key to time travel using the Quantum Realm. They had wanted an excuse to monitor the effects a miniscule change could have on the modern day. How they were going to do that was beyond Steve. But since Tony was planning a trip back in time anyways, Steve enlisted his help in getting a nice gift for Peggy.

“You want me to do what?” Tony had deadpanned, a little baffled at Steve’s seemingly silly request.

“Like I said, I just want you to buy some lipstick from London. The brand she used went out of business ages ago and I know how much she misses it.”

“Couldn’t have been too good if they went out of business.”

“I’m serious, Tony. I’d really appreciate it. It would be the perfect present for her.”

“Fine! I’ll consider this assisting the elderly. But you owe me. You are coming to all my charity events from now on.”

“Deal.” And they shook on it, Tony adding after the fact, “Time travel is invented and we’re using it to get ancient lipstick for God’s sake,” Tony muttered sarcastically.

“Well if you want to go back and stop the Nazis and HYDRA be my guest.”

“That would have too many repercussions. Who knows what the present day would look like if I changed something so drastic.”

“Then stop complaining.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, if this causes the world to go to hell it’s on you.”

Tony had returned from the past safely with a case of “Victory Red” lipstick in hand as expected. A part of Steve was kind of hoping that this subtle change to the past had some positive present consequences but to no avail.

Peggy had been shocked by the gift and even more shocked by the explanation. Ironically she made the same comment that Tony made about time travel being used for such silly purposes but she would be eternally grateful for such a thoughtful and spectacular gift. Her years of experience in rationing were sure to come in handy once again. They were both pretty sure that Tony wouldn’t agree to go back and get more when she ran out. But they did both got a good laugh at the idea of sending Tony back in time to get more lipstick as if it was a simple errand to the corner store.

Other years Steve had drawn beautiful drawings and portraits for her. Peggy had a place for each and every one. On the wall of her office in Avengers Tower hung a large and detailed painting Steve had painted during the war. It was of the Paris skyline, the lights from the Eiffel Tower illuminating the sky. Steve had drawn it after the Liberation of Paris in 1944. It hung in a museum until Steve came out of ice. He had taken it back and replaced the one in the museum with a copy. Now Peggy had the original and cherished it every time she gazed upon it.

Steve and Peggy were amoken Christmas morning by Sarah and Michael jumping on their bed.

“Mommy! Daddy! Santa came! Santa came!”

Their children’s eager voices brought smiles to their faces, even if they weren’t particularly happy with being woken up at seven in the morning on a holiday.

“Alright alright gremlins, calm down a bit my loves.”

“Mummy, come on!!” Michael begged, tugging on Peggy’s arm trying to get her up so they could open presents.

“Sweetie, the presents will still be there in an hour.”

“Or two,” Steve added, trying to negotiate for some extra sleep. Christmas Eve was one of the few nights that they got all to themselves. The kids agreeing to go to bed early on the promise that Santa would come if they did. And Steve and Peggy were sure to capitalize on this opportunity, making love late into the night, or more accurately early into the morning.

“Please mummy!!” both the children said in unison, using their best puppy dog eyes.

Steve and Peggy both shared a knowing look upon realizing that they would get no more sleep.

“Fine, my loves. You can each open one present before breakfast. We’ll open the rest after.”

“Thank you mummy! Love you!!” Sarah and Michael both exclaimed before running out of the room excited that their favorite day had finally came.

“What about me!?!?” Steve yelled after them

“Love you too, papa!” They yelled back, their voices getting quieter the further they got away from the master bedroom. The children's response caused a chuckle from both Peggy and Steve as they rose out of bed.

“Make sure they open the Star Wars Lego set. That will keep them busy for bit.”

By the time Steve and Peggy made it down to the living room, the kids had already chosen a gift to unwrap. It was in fact the lego set. Peggy had a feeling they would go for that one as it was one of the bigger boxes under their tree.

“Share please, my darlings!”

Seeing their children playing together warmed Peggy’s heart.

Steve went to make breakfast while Peggy helped Sarah start building the Millenium Falcon.

Breakfast made by Steve was more of a feast. Steve’s super-soldier metabolism ensured that he always would need a lot to eat. And his children never having to worry about food was what made him proudest in life. Between growing up poor and then needing to ration, food was always scarce in Steve’s life before the ice. Knowing that his children would never feel empty bellies warmed his heart. He cooked a smorgasbord of eggs, pancakes, waffles, bacon, and sausage for his family. Steve’s many years of Captaining were as useful in the kitchen as the were on a battlefield. Multi-tasking quickly so that his family could all enjoy their favorites.

After breakfast, the kids were eager to get back to opening their presents. Sarah chose first, choosing a long rectangular box to open.

“A lightsaber, papa!” Sarah burst out with excitement. Star Wars was her favorite right now. She wanted to be just like Rey. The lightsaber handle was made from genuine vibranium. Upon activation, the handle would project bright blue light like a hologram giving an authentic look to the prop. The lightsaber would also emit a low buzzing when you swung it. Sarah could barely hold the heavy handle but the smile on her face was brighter than the saber itself. She rushed off to her room to change into her Rey outfit. Steve and Peggy knew they had gotten the perfect gift for their little daughter.

All the gifts were opened by mid-morning and the kids were playing excitedly. Sarah still enraptured by her lightsaber and Michael engrossed in the newest Batman video game. Their dog Dodger was enjoying his new bone very much as well.

While the children played, Peggy and Steve snuck off to go get their main gifts for each other.

Steve gave Peggy her gift first. She had to admit his wrapping skills had gotten quite good.

“I didn’t have much time to work on this but I hope you like it,” Steve said nervously, eager to see what his wife thought of his gift.

Peggy unwrapped the gift carefully, opening up the small box to reveal a homemade comic book. The cover boldy read “THE ADVENTURES OF DIRECTOR CARTER AND CAPTAIN AMERICA”. Below it Peggy and Steve were drawn gracefully standing proud in the midst of a battle.

Peggy spoke slowly, in awe over how amazing a gift she had received. “Steve, this is incredible. My darling you are so talented.” Peggy added while flipping through the pages. The compliment caused a faint blush to rise to Steve’s cheeks as well.

“You really like it? I know comics aren’t really your thing.”

Peggy responded with action rather than words, firmly kissing Steve before whispering, “I love it. I love you.” against his lips.

“I am quite glad you put my name first as well, I must say.

“As it should be. You do wear the pants after all.”

“Sounds like you are just trying to get mine off,” Peggy teased back.

“Not while the kids are awake.”

Peggy giggled a tapped Steve on the chest, “Open yours. I hope you like it.”

Steve unwrapped the gift carefully. It was clearly a painting and he was eager to see what of.

“I wasn’t able to draw it myself obviously so I enlisted Maria’s help. Did you know she could paint this well?”

Steve in fact didn’t know that Maria Hill was a painter but he was glad that he did now. The painting was a recreation of The Incredibles poster but with their family. Peggy knew The Incredibles was Steve’s favorite Pixar movie, mainly because they reminded him so much of his own. Steve was Mr. Incredible of course, with Peggy as ElastiGirl, Sarah as Violet, Michael as Dash, and even had Dodger in place of Jack-Jack.

“This is outstanding Peg. Thank you so much!”

“You’re quite welcome, darling. I only wish I could have made it myself.”

“I could teach ya if you’d like. We should have some free time. I don’t think the kids will be bothering us too much for the near future.”

“Alright then, you better be as good a teacher as you are a husband.”

“We can start tomorrow. You know, I think the kids might be napping, I don’t hear them.”

Smirking wickedly, Peggy caught the slight tease in Steve’s voice. “Well then, maybe we should take this time for an afternoon fondue.”

The old reference caused a laugh from the both of them before Steve added, “You are never gonna let that go, huh?”

“Oh no darling, never.”

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Festive Treat

This is a Secret Santa gift for the wonderful Peony @sevenswifey  I sincerely hope you enjoy it. - Aerion x 

Warnings: a bit of festive fluffy sweetness from a certain caring warlord.

Masterlist

---

Festive Treat

It was one of the biggest events of the season and you loved it. For just over a month the city was covered in lights and colours galore. It made it feel like you had stepped into a Hallmark Christmas movie and you found you couldn’t help but smile.  One thing you didn’t get just from watching a movie was the feeling of the buzz in the air from all the excited visitors and shoppers around you, the smells from the food and drinks stalls that lined the streets as they held their annual festive food market. The happy cheerful voices as couples, families and groups of friends drifted from location to location taking in the products for sale and the attractions all around.

You checked your watch again. Guess he’s running late. Almost as soon as that thought crossed your mind you heard the sound of rushing feet.

“Sorry, Sorry. The train was delayed, I know it’s a terrible excuse I should never keep a lady waiting.”

Turning to the voice behind you, you can’t help but smile at the usually effortless composed man who now had a worried look on his face as he tried to regain his breath from running from the subway.

“It’s ok I wasn’t waiting long. You ready to go?” You smiled, happy to finally see your dates face. You had both planned to visit the festival on your next day off and it had been a surprisingly long couple of days waiting.

“Of course. As if I would pass up the opportunity to go around the festival with the prettiest girl in the world.” He reached out and held your hand in his. You could feel the warmth of it and suddenly remembered your own forgotten pair of gloves sitting at your home on the coffee table. “I thought you said you’d only been waiting for a short time; your hands are freezing.”

“Oh well… er…” You stammered a little embarrassed by your own forgetfulness. You had just been so happy to finally go on this date you forgot to do your usually double check of things before you ran out of the house.

“You really are a handful you know that?” He gave you a warm smile. He dropped your hand momentarily and removed his own gloves placing them on your much smaller hands. “There that should do the trick. I’ll make sure I find you the thickest softest pair of gloves later until then you can wear mine.”

“But that means your hands will get cold.” His kindness and generosity were always so touching and as happy as you were for his kind actions you still wished a little that he would think about himself a bit more.

“Then…” He tilted his head making his sandy brown hair sway as he took your hand again and shoved it in his jacket pocket along with his own, lacing his fingers with yours.  “I guess we’ll just have to go around like this and you can be in charge of making sure I stay warm.” He gave you the brightest smile you could imagine and then gave your hand a light squeeze. “Come on let's go grab some food and then you can tell me what you want to do after.”

---

The further you went into the lights the more you became aware of. There was the faint sounds of Christmas music playing out over the crowds. The smells of all the delicious food became much stronger and as you looked around your date guided you expertly to the perfect stall. The smell of the sweet batter as it sizzled in the cast iron flippers caught in the air and made your mouth water.

“One for the lady please.” He ordered the Belgium waffle then bent down so he could hear you as he asked “What do you want on it?”

Standing close like this to him holding hands was enough to have your heart race as it was but having him whisper in your ear and be even closer to you had your heart doing summersaults, you were secretly glad of the loud noises around you, at least you could be sure he couldn’t hear your erratic heart.

“Erm… Chocolate sauce is fine.”

“That all? You could have anything you like you know? My treat.” His desire to make you comfortable is one of the things you loved about him. He was always so considerate and that was a massive comfort to know that no matter what kind of day you had he would always listen to you and show you support and try to find a way to comfort you.

“Are you not getting one?” You take the offered waffle in the paper cone and take a bite. The rich warm chocolate sauce and sweet dough fill your mouth and you can’t avoid a small sigh at the pleasant flavours.

“Not really a fan of sweets.” He smiled at the sight of you enjoying your food. “Besides I already have the sweetest thing at the festival.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and guided you to another stall and brought two cups of spiced cider.

It was such a great relaxed feeling and you both drifted from stall to stall picking up different foods as you went until you came to the edge of the food market and looked at the attractions.

“Where would you like to start Princess?”

“I have no idea.” You glance around everything looks magical with all the lights. Even the duck pond had tiny lanterns floating and bobbing around on the surface of it. Some fairground rides were playing music and crowds of people had gathered around them.

“In that case how about we try the maze?” He takes your hand and guides you to a less crowded area and you see a new grove of trees laid out before you.

Each tree is around seven-foot-tall and lit up from projector lights placed at the base of them. The fine lights cast over the fir trees made it look like millions of fireflies were dancing in the frost. It was stunning. You walked slowly together hand in hand around the maze until you came to the centre.

Your eyes widened when you saw the bench in the middle of the clearing. There was a thick blanket folded neatly on it complete with a thermos and a wrapped box. You looked from the surprising site to the man next to you only to find he seemed to only be looking at you and not the scene before you.

“Hideyoshi… did you?” You ask breath catching as you take everything in.

“Yeah. I had a couple friends help pull it off though.” Hideyoshi gives a small shrug, giving your hand a light squeeze.

You feel like you are walking through a dreamscape as you are told to take a seat and then the blanket is draped across you both. The stars in the sky are clearly visible above you and you both gave up at them smiling.

“I’m pleased it’s a clear night. It was about the only thing I couldn’t plan beforehand.” He looked up at that sky before turning back to you.

“I still can’t believe you did all this.”

“Of course, I would at least go this far for my precious girl. I had wished to do more.” He proclaimed.

“No, no. Honestly, this is more than enough. This place is so peaceful and beautiful and you’re here and…” Your words begin to tumble over themselves as you speak.

“Now that is totally unfair.” He dropped his head to his chest before turning his body towards you on the bench “Where did you learn to say something so cute?” He cupped his hand over your cheek brushing the skin with his thumb.

“Where did you learn to be so smooth?”

-Chuckle-

He opened up the thermos and produced two cups pouring out a serving each of hot chocolate.

“Be careful now it’s hot.” He said as he handed you yours.

It smelt wonderful and you gladly took it drinking it slowly as you continued to star gaze. The pair of you sit in companionable silence enjoying the warmth of your two bodies sat next to each other under the blanket and the hot drinks in your hands. When you had finished your cup, he takes it from your hands carefully and replaces it with the wrapped box.

“This is for you.”

“It’s not even Christmas yet. Can I open it?” You know you sound a little like an excited child but don’t really care.

“Of course, after all, I will get you more gifts before the 25th anyway.”

You pull on the festive green ribbon and lift the lid on the box. Inside is a new set of soft white Gloves, scarf and hat. It looked like the wool had been threaded with silver as it looked sparkly in the light, and there was a couple of faux fur bobbles on the hat that looked like ears. Your face lit up in a smile and Hideyoshi let out a sigh next too you.

“I’m so glad you like them I worried I had chosen the wrong thing.” He sighs.

“I would love anything you gave me. But I don’t get it, you said earlier you would get me a pair of gloves but you didn’t leave my side all evening so when did you get these?” You tilt your head in amazement. As if the evening wasn’t already magical before he pulled this conjuring trick.

“I picked them up on my lunch break yesterday. I saw them in a window and thought they were perfect for you. I know I shouldn’t be happy that you forgot your other gloves today as your hands became cold but I was secretly happy because I knew I could give you these.” He gave you a lopsided smile “It looks like someone up there likes me.”

“Someone here like you too you know?” You put your hand over his on your cheek bring it to your lips and kiss his palm.

“You really are cute.” He leans forward using his free hand to guide your head closer to him and kisses your lips softly. “I know I’ll say it again but Happy Christmas Princess.”

“Happy Christmas.”

---

[freedom-shamrock]

Jingle My Bell

Happiest of holidays to @rescue-satellite!  I’m your @mlsecretsanta secret Santa and I have some love squarish fluff for you Also posted to AO3 if that’s easier for reading.

"Evening M'lady," Chat said, landing lightly on their designated rooftop for the evening.  He caught her hand as he bowed, dropping a light kiss on her knuckles as he gazed up at her through his lashes, still coated with mascara from today's shoot, he realized.  

A hint of pink kissed her cheeks and she smiled at him.  It was only recently that she'd stopped passing his more overt affection off, and he rather liked the change.  The blushing was new, too.

"Good evening to you my Kitten."  She reached out and tapped the bell at his neck, making it ring.

He grinned.  "Bug, you totally ring my bell."

For some reason, she found this absolutely hilarious, and her laugh devolved into snorts that sounded oddly familiar.  "Yeah," she said, when she could finally talk around the giggles.  "Well you knock my spots off."

It was always nice when she was in a playful, punny mood, and now that he thought about it, that had been her tendency the last few months.  He couldn't chalk it up to anything specific.  They'd been partners for nearly four years.  Their team expanded about three years ago, which took some of the pressure off, but she was still the most intense and serious of them.  They'd all grown up a bit, sometimes as a result of horrible experiences fighting Hawk Moth's increasingly violent monsters of the week.

"You're happy," he said, leaning onto his staff and relaxing.  "It makes me happy."

The blush was back and she tried to look away before he could see it.  It didn't work, of course.  His night vision was too good.  "It's Christmas," she said.  "While I could do without being cold, I really love this time of year.  It's always seemed magical, even before I learned magic was real."

Chat Noir nodded.  His Christmases had been decidedly less magical in the last five or six years, but becoming a superhero and going to school helped make that a little less of a downer.  "I have your gift," he said, wiggling his fingers.  "Would you like it now, or are we going to run first."

She reached out and gently booped his nose.  "You're going to have to work a bit to find your real gift," she said.  Her other hand held out a small white box tied closed with a green ribbon.

He plucked the box from her hand.  "What's this, then?" he asked.

"Your first clue," she said, alternately bending and straightening her knees in a way that made her whole body wiggle.  How could she go from sexy to adorable like that?  She was giving him whiplash.

"My.  First.  Clue," he said slowly.  He shook the box, surprised to hear a muted jingling within.  He raised an eyebrow at her.

Giggling again, she leaned forward and dropped a loop of braided black yarn loosely about his neck.  It hung to the center of his chest and there were a number of shiny silver rings embedded in the braid.  "This will make it easier for you to collect all the clues."

He looked over the rings, not bothering to count them just now.  "That's a lot of clues, My Lady."

"The last clue will direct you to your real present."  She straightened up, clearly very pleased with all of this.

"Did you do this with your gifts for everyone else?" he asked, suspecting she hadn't, but wanting to be sure.

Ladybug shook her head.  "Of course not."  She shrugged.  "They're wonderful.  But they aren't you.  You deserve special treatment, and… I thought maybe you could benefit from a little fun this time of year."

"You know me too well," he teased.

"No," she said quietly.  "But I hope to know you better."

"I have a gift for you, too," he said.  "But I didn't bring it tonight."

She lightly booped his nose again.  "If your clues take you close to home, you can pick it up and bring it at the end.  Or we can meet another time."

"You're not coming with me?" he asked, puzzled.

"Nope.  I have to get things ready at the end."  She leaned in to whisper, "but you're a clever kitty, and I'm sure I'll see you soon.  Happy hunting!"  She spun away, her bandalore already soaring into the air.

Chat Noir watched her depart.  Any opportunity to watch His Lady was a good opportunity, really.  Once she was gone, he tugged carefully at the ribbon with his claws.  Inside the box he found a replica of his bell, roughly have the size.  It hung from a loop of red yarn and was adorned with a green bow that matched the ribbon he'd just untied.  When he held it up, he could see red embroidery on the ribbon's tails.

#1 Where I first fell for you

His sweet Bug was sending him on a scavenger hunt to find bells, and this was his clue.  He grinned and tied the first clue to one of the rings on the braid she'd draped over him.  Where she first fell for him?  Since he wasn't entirely sure she really had fallen for him, it must be a joke.  An idea sparked in his mind, and he scrambled across the rooftop, eager to reach the place where they'd first met.

Hanging from the top curve of a lightpost where Ladybug had first crashed into his life, he saw a glint of bronze.  A controlled ascent with his staff allowed him to quickly confirm it was another bell.  This one with green yarn and a doubled red ribbon with four tails.

#2 I was ready to give up You inspired me to stay Ladybug

Warmth blossomed in his chest.  They'd been partners for two years before she told him about this.  It had been during their first akuma, after they'd made mistakes.  She'd not been confident in her ability to truly be a superhero and planned to give up the earrings.  But something he said as they stood facing the anger of the police, with Hawk Moth at their backs lit a spark in her.  They were close friends by the time she shared this, and she'd picked a time when he'd lacked confidence in himself.

He happily pounced and bounded over to Trocadero.  He made sure to approach from the side where the police were lined up.  Sure enough, up on another lightpost, hung another bell, again with a green ribbon.  HIs Bug had a pattern.

#3 Pigeons are nothing to sneeze at unless you're a green-eyed blond with allergies

He laughed.  Mr. Pigeon was still one of the silliest and creepiest akuma.  He tried the park first, where they'd had their first stakeout.  Nothing there.  So he headed off to Grand Palais, where the final fight had taken place.

Getting in through the roof was easy for a superhero, and after a few moments his keen sight caught a glint of the bell hanging from the filigreed arch over the Great Staircase.

#4 In stormy weather I realized I will trust you to guide me, always

He tied the bell next to the others, all on one side of the braid.  It made for an odd necklace, and it slipped bell-heavy side down.  She was focusing on their early akumas, and this one was at the TV station.

He didn't find anything on the roof, and he rethought the clue.  She'd trusted him to guide her… oh.  He could see in the dark.  He once again found easy access from the roof, which took him right into the stairwell.  They'd had several chases through here, and he wondered why she'd picked this particular one.  Something about the line on that third tail stuck out to him.  This suddenly felt like she was making a point.

Down a few landings, he found it tied to the railing.  Glancing up and down, he smiled.  This was very likely the landing where she initially thought she'd be fine on her own, reconsidered, and let him take the lead.

He untied the red yarn and looked at the ribbon's three tails.

#5 I'm so sorry I scared you but I learned something important you give the best hugs

That one was easy.  He still had nightmares about her leaping into the mouth of a tyrannosaurus rex.  Sure, she'd done even scarier things since, but there was extra terror that first time.

The bell hung from one of the upper branches of one of the small trees across from Marinette's family's bakery.  The storefront was dark, and when he looked up, the only light came from her bedroom.  He smiled.  She was probably up late designing something amazing.  For a black cat, he was actually incredibly fortunate to be blessed by two such amazing women in his life.  While neither seemed romantically interested in him, their friendships were too important to risk pushing for something else.

#6 You've scared me, too. I still have nightmares where you vanish and I can't bring you back

Ouch.  That stung a bit.  But at the same time, it really spoke of how much she cared for him.  During the fight with Timebreaker he'd been so focused on the ridiculous joy of having two Ladybugs at his side, and to be fair, they'd featured strongly in a few of his fantasies.  But later… he'd remembered what it felt like to have his life force sucked out of him.  He'd ceased to exist, effectively died.  With time, and help from Plagg, of all people, he'd stopped having panic attacks every time he saw inline skates.

He made his way back to Trocadero, the other side of the tower this time.

#7 While some may try the best they can do is mimic I will always know which cat is mine

She'd never been duped by Copycat.  Though she'd asked questions to be certain, he'd always suspected that was more of a diversion than a real need.  The fact that she'd known he wasn't the thief when his doppelganger strolled in to steal the Mona Lisa meant the world to him.  That she chewed out the police over it still made him happy.

The Louvre was closed, and he wasn't ready to risk their security system, so he started out at Theo's studio.  Just outside, he found the next bell.

#8 You're an excellent gamer almost as good as me With your Catouken and my Tatsukitty we'll be an unbeatable team

He'd been surprised how well she could drive the mech.  It was like she'd been born to do it.  The next bell wasn't in the park where he'd rescued Marinette and met up with Ladybug.  He traveled their path from the battle as best he could from memory, eventually ending up at Parc des Princes.  The bell was dwarfed and tough to spot, hanging from the roof ring between two pennants.

He waited to read the clue until he was up on the roof.

#9 It may not have been memorable but it was my first kiss, too

He'd found out about the kiss later.  It had been bad enough that he'd been turned against his Lady on Valentine's Day, that he'd tried to use Cataclysm on her.  He shuddered.  But then to find out she'd cured him with a kiss?  And he didn't remember.  He wondered why she hadn't tried that technique for getting him out from under akuma control since?  Though to be fair, he'd learned to shake it off in the last year and a half.

The ribbon had four tails, but only two were embroidered.  As he ran his fingertips over them, he realized she'd used green thread for almost hidden embroidery on the other two tails.  He tilted them a bit.

I'm willing to try again if you're interested

He stared at the green ribbon, his eyes wide and an almost painfully huge smile on his face.  Apparently he'd been mistaken about his Lady's feelings toward him.

He laughed as he practically danced across rooftops on his way to the fountain, where he was certain the next clue waited.

#10 I'm sure you've realized I'm not 5000 years old We were born within months of each other

His breath caught as he read this one.  The last two lines were a little worrisome.  They roughly knew each other's birthdays, down to about a week.  But this… this was less about the day and more about the year, which really, neither of them should know.  Sure, he suspected she was around his age, but her words were so certain.

He took a breath and focused on the rest of it, trying to find the clue.  The only way he was going to get answers was if he followed this through.

It came back now.  The history book and the Egyptian exhibit.  Apparently the Louvre was still an option.  Fortunately, the bell was perched on the top of the glass pyramid, easy enough for him to get to.

#11 Your puns are no knightmare my father will wish to match wits But they may stand out when spoken by the other you

Again, this one suggested knowledge of him that she shouldn't have.  He didn't pun as often as Adrien, but it wasn't like he avoided it completely.  Nino and Marinette loved his sense of humor, though Alya merely put up with it and Chloe groaned in objection noting it was his one flaw.  Apparently Ladybug's father was keen on wordplay as well, and he wondered if he dared hope he was going to get to meet him.  Someday.  Soonish.

This clue took a little more time to work out, since it seemed to be isolated to the first line.  He was also not doing his best thinking now that it seemed his Lady knew who he was and might be willing to consider kisses.

The bell hung from the flagpole at city hall, and it was his third guess that took him there.

#12 You had a chance to see me But respected my wishes I know how hard it was to close that door

This one he knew right away.  He closed his eyes and recalled how it had felt.  Facing Alya as an Akuma had been hard, and of course she was brutally tough.  At the end, Ladybug dashed into a closet to hide when her miraculous timed out.  He was sure she'd meant to fully close the door, but it hadn't latched.  Reaching for the lever, he was struck by the strongest temptation to pull the door open.  To dart in after her.

Instead, he'd respected her words.  She'd share her identity when she was ready, and he could wait.  It had been hard to push the door closed and leave.  And she'd known and understood that made him understand better that it wasn't so much about what she'd wanted to do.  She just wanted to keep them safe.  To protect their families and friends.

He made his way to Le Grand Paris.  Fortunately he was a familiar enough face, that his arrival was not unusual.  Apparently Ladybug had spoken with the front desk staff, so they were also expecting him.  They smirked and wished him luck.

The bell hung on the lever to the very closet Ladybug had used.  It was the last one he had room for on the increasingly jingly necklace he was wearing.

#13 Visit your princess for your favorite pastries And receive the only gift worthy enough for you

Princess and pastry.  That was obviously Marinette.  He'd always had a vague suspicion that Ladybug knew Marinette, and apparently she'd left hisgift with his good friend.  He wondered what gift she could possibly be referencing.  Seriously, pastries and her time were all he wanted.  Okay, so maybe he wanted cuddles and kisses, too, but he had to be realistic here.  Maybe she'd commissioned Mari to make him something.  That would be awesome.  Marinette made the best clothes.

With jolting footstep and every leap, the bells over his chest rang and clashed together.  He rather thought he sounded like a whole team of reindeer all on his own.  Before long he'd reached Marinette's balcony.  Her fairy lights had been joined with decorations of holly and ivy made out of fabric.  The effect was festive and cheery.  Over her skylight a banner had been hung.  Red and green ribbons had been cut and sewn to spell out "Kitty Door."

Grinning at the clear invitation, he reached down and lifted the plexiglas cover.  "Hello, Princess?" he called softly.  It was late at this point, probably past midnight, and he worried about waking her or her parents.

Marinette popped out from under her bed and beamed up at him.  She was wearing black and green fleece pajamas.  "Chat Noir," she called happily.  "Come in.  I was beginning to worry."

Careful not to drag his feet over her bedding, he dropped in and came down the ladder.  Her room looked so different, which was strange since he'd been over just a few days ago after school.  The lighting was low and soothing and more red and green decorations adorned her walls.  In front of her chaise, she'd set up a small table with a plate of the bakery's best treats, in his opinion, and two steaming mugs of cocoa.

"Hmmm," he said, taking in the snacks.  "You must have had some warning for those to be hot."

She grinned, totally smug.  She was up to something.  She and his Lady loved elaborate surprises.  "Please have a seat."

He sat down at the table.  "And will Ladybug be joining us this evening?"

She giggled.  "You could say that."  She sat beside him offering him a plate.  When he took it, her hand reached out and ran over the bells he'd collected.  "It looks like you found all of them."

"All thirteen," he agreed.

"Were they too hard?  Too easy?"

"Just right," he said quickly.  How much had Marinette been involved in this project.  Now that he was thinking about it, the embroidery looked like her work.  "They reminded me of a lot of important moments."

"Did you have fun hunting for them?" she asked, smirking over the brim of her mug.

"You're mighty pleased with yourself this evening, Princess," he said.  "You're toying with me."

She giggled again, a sound she'd heard a lot this evening.  "I've learned from the best."  She set down her mug.  "But I'll stop now.  Just tell me what you're here for.  What did the last clue say?" she prompted.

"It told me to visit you for pastries and a gift," he replied, feeling a bit like playing with her now.

"What kind of gift?"  She spoke as if wondering aloud, her fingers drumming on her chin.

Chat Noir shrugged, making his bells jingle.  "I have no idea, though it sounded pretty impressive."

"Ah, yes," Marinette agreed.  She leaned forward to reach under the chaise.  She came up with a stiff green piece of paper in one hand and a gift bow in the other.  She looked at the bow for a moment before slapping it on top of her head while holding out the paper.  "Here's the tag."

He stared at her, puzzled for a moment before reaching for the oversized tag.

To: Chatdrien With love from: Maribug

He gasped, his breath wheezing in audibly.  His eyes flicked back up to her face.

"Hi Kitten."  She waved at him.  A little red being, smaller than Plagg, but clearly a kwami zipped out from hiding and landed on her shoulder, beaming at him with big blue eyes that matched his Lady's.  Marinette's.

He pointed at her for a moment, waiting for his mouth to come back on line.  Marinette was his Lady.  She was his precious Bug and she'd just revealed herself to him and…  "You… you know!" he blurted.

Her hand reached out for his cheek.  "I do."

"Is that why you…"  She cut him off with a shake of her head.

"I've known for a while."  She glanced away.  "I probably should have told you, but…"  She sighed.  "I'm sorry.  It wasn't right of me."

"You've nothing to apologize for," he said.  "God I'm dense.  I can't believe I didn't see you."  He caught both her hands in his.

"It was miraculous magic, actually," her kwami assured him.  

"It's just… there were too many coincidences and the glamour… for lack of a better word, broke."  Marinette shrugged.  "This is Tikki."  She scooped up her kwami and held her out toward him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Tikki," he said, hoping she could see that he meant it.

Tikki let out a high giggle. "You're such a sweetie, Chat Noir.  You might be my favorite of Plagg's kittens yet."  She dropped down to a small cushion he hadn't noticed on the table, and picked up a macaron.

"You didn't tell me because you felt guilty, did you?"  That would rank near the top for awful reveals.

"Absolutely not."  Her voice was firm.  "I wanted to get you something you really deserved, something you wanted and needed, but… nothing was good enough.  You've always wanted to know who I am.  Without the masks in the way, maybe I can take care of you like you deserve."  Her cheeks went a delightful pink.  "I know you like me as a friend, and Ladybug as a bit more than that."

He snorted.  "I like all of you a whole lot more than that."  He ran one claw over his bells until he found the ninth one.  "This one turned me into a puddle of sheer joy on the roof of Parc des Princes."  He leaned in to press his forehead to hers.  "The sheer idea that you might be open to a real kiss, made me completely stupid."

She sighed, looking relieved.  "Yeah, well it's only fair.  You and your…"  She leaned back and waved at him with both hands.  "Everything, make me a mess.  You have no idea."

He let out a laugh, suddenly more happy than he'd been at any point in his life that he could recall.

"I know you're home alone for Christmas tomorrow," she said, reaching under the chaise again.  "How about you detransform and put on these nice jammies I made you."  She dropped a pile of black and red fleece in his lap.  "You're staying over.  It's a Dupain-Cheng family Christmas for you," she said firmly.

He gawked at her.  "R-really?"  He held up the pajamas, Ladybug themed to match her Chat Noir set.  He glanced at the shirt hem and, sure enough, found her sneaky little signature.  "Won't your parents find it odd to wake up and find me here?"

"Marinette told her parents you were going to be alone," Tikki said.  "They practically demanded that she invite you over."

Marinette's smile went shy.  "I was hoping tonight would go well, and you'd be happy enough with your present that you'd want to stay."

"I love my present," he said softly.  "I'm keeping it forever."

[nonstop-creaty]

Take A Hint

A/N : Lol I’m so late to this I should probably said Happy New Year instead, but anyway, Merry Christmas for @littleroundpumpkin, thank you for waiting, I hope you like your gift^^

On another note, I’m sorry if there’s any mistake, I double checked everything but considering how impatient I am, I probably miss a lot. Thank you for @boku-no-secret-santa for creating the event

I have too much fun writing it, I hope you like it just as much, I actually got carried away, there’s probably a second part for this. This is based on my own hc that Shouto, beneath that cool exterior, is actually a mess of social anxiety, awkwardness, and sarcasm. Well, the main Idea is “Shouto thought he is the cool senpai while Momo is the unassuming shoujo heroine, but in reality, it’s the other way around”.

Aizawa never consider himself to be very sensitive, despite being a teacher whose job is to care for, mentallly and physically, hormon-driven teenagers. But this one, this one student make his feelings so obvious even he start to notice.

Shouto Todoroki had been, and still is, staring at Yaoyorozu Momo for the past ten minutes. The kid probably thought he were being subtle, but there’s no subtlety in the way he ogle Yaoyorozu. Worse, Yaoyozu is conscious of his gaze, and every now and then she will glance back, their eyes will meet and both of them will go red, awkwardly tearing their gaze apart from each other. Give them five minutes of sitting normally before the whole thing repeat again. It’s annoying just to watch them.

Those two are damn lucky they get the back seat, hardly anyone notice their eyes smexing, otherwise they’re in for some heavy teasing from their classmates.

He toured the class, while supervising his student, when he reached Todoroki’s seat, he whispered, voice low so only Todorki can hear him, “It’s not nice to stare.”

Todoroki went slightly red, he barely missed the spark of fire in his left hand. When he turn his back on Todoroki, he stiffled down a laugh, while Yaoyorozu shifted her gaze between the two of them in puzzlement

When Saturday come, Shouto goes to visit his mother in the hospital. His father give him an odd look before he go, but he couldn’t care less. Unfortunately, Fuyumi couldn’t come with him, she had to take her students to a study tour.

Usually, he would focus his attention to his mother, but he can’t seem to concentrate. His mind still reeling from the incident with Aizawa-sensei yesterday.

As expected, his mom notice right away, “Shouto, are you alright?”

"It's nothing, Mom, really. I just got distratcted." He mumbled with a heavy sigh. He regret his words as soon as they left his mouth. He glance at his mother his guess was right, he had made her worried, his mother immediately straighten up, eyes suddenly alert and serious, "Is something bothering you?"

When he didn't answer, she further press on "Shouto, tell me."

Shouto glance up, hesitating for a bit, "Well, there's this girl in my class that--"

"A girl?" she shrieked, incredulous. The tension in the air dissolved as quickly as it came. He nodded, fully expecting her to guide him throught this unknown journey of understanding woman, but all hope left him when his mom (his last ace card) laugh at his face. It’s not the graceful kind of laugh either, it’s full blown snort.

"It's not that big of a deal--"

"It is!!" She insisted, "What is she like? I want to know."

Shouto sighed, a little bit overwhelmed by the questions. "She's kind..." He began, trying to recall Yaoyorozu in his mind, her encouraging words towards everyone, the way her eyes lit up with excitement, her smile, "Beautiful..."

He like her smile, and he was lucky that she was generous with them, even to him, and he can’t help but smile too even when he just remembering them.

He suddenly remember that he’s not alone in the room, and that he was smiling by himself, outwardly. He immediately cover his mouth with his hand, looking away while fake coughing awkwardly(which really doesn’t fool anyone).

When he look back at his mom, she give him a look that disturbingly resembles a lenny face. Her expression is so smug, and he actually feel kind of scared.

“You’re smitten.” She said, her tone suggest the statement is unarguable.

He really doesn’t know what to say to that, “Smitten??”

“Head-over-heels in love or into-her—” she waved her arms nonchalantly, “—or whatever you kids called it this day.”

There’s ten seconds silent, the words didn’t quite registered to his brain, but when they do, his heart make a jittery move, and the room’s temperature went up. He felt really silly now. The answer is right in front of his eyes and he can’t even figure it out by himself, but then again, he’s probably the most dense when it comes to feelings...and stuff that come up with said feelings.

This new discovery doesn’t sit well with him, “.....you’re right.”

She give him a ‘of-course-I-am-right’ kind of look. Shouto put his hands on the sides of his head and let out a long, suffering sigh, “What am I gonna do?”’

This is the first time that he feels romantic love for someone. The cogs in his brain start working faster than usual, popping question that really doesn’t help him, reminding him he’s not in the best place to start a relationship, with his hero training, his father, and everything else in between (Does he want to start a relationship?? (Actually, yes, he wants to start a relationship, give it a go, so to speak) (but right now??) (Does Yaoyorozu want to??) (maybe she’s not going to say yes, he’s getting ahead of himself (yeah but come on), he can’t even imagine what his father would say to him (not that he really care either way) and does he even have the time??

“It could hindrance my hero training.”

There’s an instant shift in the air. The atmosphere become tense, his mother made no comments to his statement, choosing silence, on her face is an unreadable expression that makes him nervous.

After a minute that feels like forever, her eyes trained to her son, “Shouto...” she took his hand, sliding her fingers between his, her lips curved upward “Is she a burden to you?”

No, of course not, she’s actually a great help. Always lending him a hand whenever he needed, giving extra lessons and pointers when there’s a particulary hard subjects, and a moral support to class 1-A in general.

“If we don’t earnestly cheer on each other, we’ll never be top heroes!”

His mother put her hands on both of his shoulder, gently shaking them. He trailed his eyes on her worried face. She dropped her hands after having a second thought, no doubt his mother thought that way of thinking had been his father influence, and her lack of mental capability to actually teach her kids what’s good for them, “I know I don’t give the best example to relationship,” her tone strained, voice low, he had to stomped down the urge to frown when he remember how his father treat her, “but relationship...while it need a lot of compromise and hard work, it’s supposed to be something fun.” She lowered her head for a moment, closing her eyes, as if forcing down regrets, when she regained back her composure, she added with a little smile, “You’re going to be spending time with the person you love afterall, what’s not fun about that?”

He nodded with a little smile, feeling a little lighter than when he first come to the room. He’s glad he talked to his mother, even if their discussion wander a little too far on the nasty lane. 

“Thanks, Mom.”

Her mother gives him a thumbs up, “Go get her, Shouto!”

The nurse come knocking on the door, telling him that visiting hour is over, reluctantly he packed his things and bid goodbye. Before he go out, she said, “Bring her here next time.”

He answered over his shoulder, in a playful tone he rarely used, “Roger, ma’am.”

And the door closed behind him.

In Shouto’s humblest opinion, he is...not actually that bad with girls. Sure, he never had a relationship before, or even just pursuing someone, but there’s plenty of female that confess to him. Which is saying something, right? So how hard can pursuing Momo be?

That’s the prep talk he’s been saying to himself for the past five minutes. After mulling for some kind of plan to get closer to her, the only thing he can come up with is to ask her to study together, that’s casual enough, right? Also, low chance of getting rejected because Momo likes to study. But he can’t actually muster the courage to ask her. It’s honestly easier said than done.

Midoriya actually offered to buy him a book on the subject, but he refuses. No matter how convincing the adverstisement is, he would not buy Stallion Way To a Maiden Heart, and that’s final.

The last bell of today’s lesson signaling the countdown to his last chance. Momo already pack all her things and ready to go to the dorm, soon enough she will be joined by Jirou and Kaminari, when they reached dorm there’s going to be so many people, not to mention tomorrow is Saturday so it’s now or never.

He stand up, facing her desk, it took awhile before she notice his gaze on her. “Todorki-san?” She set down her bag, “Do you need something?”

Shouto take a deep breath, and shoved his shaking (and slowly freezing) right hand into his pocket, “Yes, um, would you—would you mind to study together with me tomorrow? There’s some subject I’d like to ask.”

The caught her off guard. She would never expected that The Todoroki Shouto would ask for her help, and she is more than happy for the opportunity to pay him back for all his help and kindness to her. But she immediately snap out of her thought,  her hand went up to clutch the front of her uniform, he gripped her desk , restraining himself to pull squeeze her tight because she is hella adorable (in his most objective opinion).

Momo’s face break into a dazzling smile, “Of course!! I would love to help!!”

Seeing her excitement, he can’t help but smile back, mentally dancing around in victory because yesss he did it, “We should do it in a cafe or something.” He said, keeping his tone as breezy as possible, and jump in eagerness to convey how he actually feels.

Momo nodded, and he politely thank her. After the conversation finished, he tried to walk normally to the dorm, but as soon as he out of the class, he is skipping happily like a kid getting an early christmast present, with barely contained smile on his face.

 Shouto arrived almost a half-hour early from the promised time. The cafe is well-lit and a perfect place to study, as the customers around him all sipping coffee quietly while doing their work. He already order a drink and start to pour over his book (he really have a subject to ask Momo). He is blissfully waiting for her arrival when he feel his shoulder is tapped by someone. 

He turn his head, already smiling, to greed Momo, “Yaoyorozu, you’re he—“

His smiled disappeared when his gaze met a bright yellow hair and a pair of amber eyes. Huh...Kaminari??

“Todoroki-kun, you’re here early.”

The boy took a seat across him, then waved a waitress to come, much to Shouto’s dismay. Kaminari ignored Shouto’s questioning gaze.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, which come more harsly than he intended to. Luckily, Kaminari didn’t took offense at his rude demenaour.

“The same as you, I’m here to study with Yaomomo.”

“What? But we—“

“Todoroki-san!” He heard his name called, this time by a right voice, Yaoyorozu is standing at the cafe front door, smiling and waving at him.......along with Jirou and Mina.

He can only stare, dumbstruck, as the three of them walked over to the table. Jirou make a comment about how they should get the bigger table (the table Shouto pick is only for two) and so the group move to the table beside them.

Feeling a little lost, he quickly secure his place beside Momo, a little impatient to inquire her about the sudden guests that intruded their study ‘date’. Before Shouto could say anything, Momo break the silence, “Sorry, Todoroki-san, I bought these three along before telling you, they said they need help and I can’t refuse.” She give a small bow, “Beside studying is more fun together.”

His annoyance must apparent, because she quickly added in a tentative voice, ”You’re not mad, aren’t you?”

Mad is too strong of a word, more like annoyed, and ‘how-come-you-invite-other-people-this-is-a-date’ kind of feeling. But, evidently, Momo didn’t think this is a date. Even though the message had been clear. Or maybe it’s not as clear as it thought it was. Is it the way he said it? Or maybe his wording that gives impression that this is anything but a date.

Momo is looking at him with such a concerned expression until he feels guilty, he mentally clear off his negative feelings and reassure her with, “No, It’s fine.”

Her shoulder visibly relaxed, she turn to face the other three, telling them which chapter to open while he mulled over his actions and wonder just where did he messed up?

As promised, Momo teach him the subject he’s been having trouble with, and even give him insight in the upcoming material. It’s quite something how Momo able to divide her time perfectly for her four students. When the sky began to darken, they all decided to wrap this up and continue at some other time.

He purposely waited until they all said their goodbyes to Momo and decided to walk go home to their own house, as today is Saturday, and come back Monday morning for school. Which include him and Momo, too. He could still save the plan, there’s still a chance.

“Yaoyorozu,” He called, she turn her head over her shoulder, “Let’s go home together.”

Momo look falttered for a second, then her expressions turned awkward, she rub the back of her neck while looking anywhere but him, “Uh, I’m sorry, Todoroki-san, but my driver is picking me up.” 

Just then, a car (a very fancy car that he doesn’t even know the brand) stopped right in front of them, The driver come out to open the door for Momo.

“Have a safe trip home, Todoroki-san.”

There’s goes his only hope. He manage to let out a reply, “Yeah, see you Monday.”

The car door slammed shut, ten seconds later, the car roared, taking Momo away.

 On Monday morning, Jirou stop him before he even reach class.

“We ruined your date plan, huh?”

“—Ruined is an understatement—”

“—Well how am I supposed to know it’s a date? Yaomomo invited us—“

Shouto narrowed his eyes and give her a hard glare, that cut her abruptly. Jirou only fazed for a moment, her smile is back on her face, as instant as flipping a light switch.

“Clearly you suck at this.” She said, with a look clearly says she is superior than him on the subject, “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.”

Even though she said that with confidence, it really doesn’t give him any reassurance. But he has no one to turn to, Midoriya’s last plan is to do a Shoujo Wall Slam to Momo, which he (stupidly) followed. He only got to corner her in the wall part before Momo kick him in the shin because she thinks he was testing her ability. It stopped being funny when a big, blue bruise formed on his skin. The only good thing that come out of it is Momo offered to fix his wounds, so he got to spend half an hour with her hands all over him. Otherwise, it’s a disaster.

Jirou pulled him to a less crowded corner, she looked around to make sure that they’re alone in the hallway, “Here’s the plan, you know how dense Yaomomo is, hell, she invited other people to her date. Now, what we have to do is give her a big romance move that can’t be interpreted as platonic, and by big, I mean B-I-G.”

“That logic sounds flawed.”

Jirou rolled her eyes. She make a big show of slumping her bag over her shoulder, dramatically turn around and said, , “Have fun asking Yaomomo out on your own.”

“—Hey, Jirou, wait—“

She stopped then, abrutply wheeled her body to face him, the look on her face might suggest that someone has given her a million dollar cash, and he suddenly regret his actions.

She give him a half-grin, “You’re in good hands.”

“Alright, first of all, we have to do a quick damage-control.” She begin to explain, in a tone that make Shouto think if she had a moustache, she will twirl it. Jirou start to chastised him.

“It doesn’t help how derp you are around her--” Gee, thanks, as if he hadn’t noticed, “--So just leave it to me.”

Somehow he get a bad feeling from this.

  When night  time come, Shouto had finish getting ready for bed, he had just closed his eyes when the his phone ring, jerking him awake. He half-expected it to be his sister calling (because he has no other friends) and mildly surprised when it turns out to be Jirou.

He wondered what she wants. Reluctantly, he answer it, “What?”

“Hey, Todoroki...”

“I was just going to bed.” He curtly said, the clock reads 8.30 P.M, “It already past my bed time.” and frankly, the more sleepy he is, the more grumpy he becomes.

There’s a sneer coming from the other line, “It’s not even nine yet. What are you, a baby?”

He ignored her.

“Don’t you wanna hear our plan? We spent a long time to come out with it.” The voice on the other side answers, which is not Jirou’s voice, but still familiar.

“.....Hagakure?”

“Bingo!”

Shouto resist the urge to rub his head that had started to ache (Jirou’s fault entirely), suddenly the picture of Jirou and Hagakure in the girls dorm, having a sleepover and discussing his love life (or lack of) pop up in his mind, the image both disturb and embarrass him.

He can’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice, “How nice, include more people in this, will you?”

Jirou chime in, “ You have to get permission from the whole squad if you want to ask Yaomomo out.” 

He can’t see them but he had a feeling Hagakure is solemnly nodding to Jirou’s statement, “Sorry man, we don’t make the rules.”

She’s clearly having too much fun at this.

Hagakure added, “Yeah, it’s a solidarity thing.”

Which is something that he doesn’t really want to know. Sadly, it makes no difference to Hagakure whether he is interested or not. He had to cut her mid-rant otherwise it’s dawn before you know it, “Be quick, I want to sleep.”

Ashido’s voice suddenly said, “Don’t worry, we already summarized the plan!”

He almost thought that he is imagining things because how sleepy he is, but there’s no mistaking it, that was Ashido voice. He doesn’t even know she’s there. Just how many people involved in this?

He slam the phone when Uraraka joined the conversation.

  “Why don’t you just tell everyone?” Shouto bit out. He doesn’t get enough sleep last night after that horrid phone call, which is enough to make him ten times more grumpy. Jirou is sitting in Momo’s desk (who hasn’t come to class yet), twirling her earphone jack. It’s still twenty minutes before the first bell ring, and about five minutes before Momo arrived. 

Jirou shrugged nonchalantly, “I don’t have to, everyone already knows.”

“What?”

She shrugged again, clearly not very interested in his dismay. Shouto has to resist the urge to kick her, “You hear me, everyone already knows. You kinda make it obvious.”

As if to prove her points, Bakugou snickered while looking directly at Shouto, then turn away, while Kaminari who is sitting beside him, give Shouto a pity stare (the kind you give someone when you know they’ll messed up).

Shouto only respond for the humiliation he felt is to plant his face on the table, too drowned in his embarrassement to even care. It’s nice to know that his so-called friends pop in sometimes to laugh at him. Jirou went on about “plans” (he’s not really listening), but he can’t take this much annoyance so early in the morning. Shouto sends Midoriya, who is looking at their way when getting his book from his bag, a distress signal to help him get away from Jirou (by squinting several times at him) but Midoriya doesn’t get it, he just waved at Shouto and then turn back to his book. Shouto wished his quirk is telephaty instead.

Just then, the door slides open, revealing Momo Yaoyorozu herself. She looks a bit startled finding Jirou on her desk, much more talking to Shouto, but quickly regained her grace. She greets them while setting her bag down on her desk, Jirou took that as her cue to leave, but not before giving Shouto a ridiculous comedy wink right in front of Momo. What is she thinking? If she had been a spy, she would be dead by now.

Momo just look puzzled, but too polite to ask intruding question. He had to pretend he didn’t see anything, he do’t want her to think he is on to something with Jirou. While Jirou might say that is really the case, he says otherwise. The whole ‘planning’ thing is mostly her doing her own crazy and forcibly throwing him to the mix.

Shouto wonder what Jirou is up to. She has been mentioning the word ‘plan’ several times. He just glad that they didn’t take Hagakure suggestion to change the word ‘plan’ to ‘lamp’ and ‘Yaomomo’ to ‘Mochi’, the idea is to use a code word so Momo wouldn’t get suspicious, but if they start to talk about lamp and Mochi at the same sentence, it actually make it even more suspicious and very little sense.

Shouto glanced at Momo, who is surprisingly also looking at him with stone-faced expression, as their gaze met, Shouto went red, he can feel a slight increase of temperature because of his quirk, and quickly diverted his gaze from her.

In his mind, he can hear Aizawa-sensei’s sneer.

  He found out what is exactly Jirou’s plan at night. After school, most of 1-A gathered in the common floor, doing various activities or simply just chatting.

Shouto has been chillin’ with Midoriya and Iida on the couch (Midoriya is showing them his All Might card collection), but he is interrupted when Shouto’s phone ring.

Momo’s name flashed on his screen. It caught him off guard, she never called unless it was important, could it be Jirou? He stand up a little too fast (almost knocking Midoriya’s collection) and went away from prying ears before answering it.

“Hello?”

“Todoroki-san?” He was glad to hear Momo’s voice throught the receiver, “Jirou-san said you want to meet me...?” the whole statement is a question, she sound terribly confused and unsure.

He froze, quite literally, as speckled of ice formed at his feat and hands. When he spoke, his voice low and horrified, “...what?”

“I’ve been here for five minutes and—“

“Wait there.” He cut her, ending the call. He run to her room in full speed, making him receive odd looks both from Midoriya and Iida, but he doesn’t want to make her wait.  When he reached the fifth floor, there’s no one the hallaway. He knocked on her door but no answers. He call her, Momo’s picked up at the first ring, “Yaoyorozu, where are you? I’m in front of your room.”

“Huh? I’m in front of your room.”

Bloody hell.

 The fiasco had ended peacefully, he had went up to Momo in front of his room. But he had absolutely no idea what to say to her, so he said the whole thing is Jirou’s prank (which is not far from the truth).

She looks unimpressed, “That girl—Ah, I’m sorry Todoroki-san, for involving you in this.” She bowed low.

He urged her to straighten up , “I don’t blame you in the first place.”

She become quiet, staring at him, her body language suggested that she want to say something to him. She open her mouth slightly, closed it again, and then muttered ,“Todoroki-san, you... seems really close with Jirou-san.”

He highly doubt that. If wanting to kill her and hide her body on the fridge can be categorized as ‘close’ then yes, they are.

“Yeah, kinda.” He answered vaguely, eager to keep his crime-movie-worth thought to himself. Even though he want to tattle Jirou to Momo really badly.

Momo bow her head, looking down on the floor, her eyes somber. He doesn’t know what caused the sudden change in her demeanour, so offers to walk her to her room, guessing (incorrectly) that she simply tired. He manage to bit her goodnight in natural sort of way before going back to his room to sleep, the whole thing is tiring him out, he could wait until tomorrow to kick Jirou.

 Jirou is unregretful when he confront her, “I can’t believe you blew it up.” She said, blaming him, which tickled him off greatly, Excuse you, shouldn’t I be the one who do the blaming here? 

“What do you expect me to do?” he asked, and winced when his voice sound desperate.

“Confess to her, duh.”

He really want to kick her now. He could barely order an extra fries on fast food restaurant and she thought he could confess without mental preparing first? This girl clearly not right in the head.

“You should have informed me first.” He demanded, Jirou is unapologetic, “I already tell Mina to tell you, I guess the info got lost in the proccess.”

“That’s what you got for including more people in it.”

Jirou ignore him and went on, “Even thought I have prepared the perfect timing for you.”

Which part of the plan is perfect remains a mystery to him. He could point out ten flaws at the top of his head, and that’s not even half of it. But he’s too depressed to be bothered and decided to drop the conversation and go back to class.

He spend the most part of the morning fuming on his chair, He write his notes with a little too much force than necessary. Momo (bless her soul) notice his misery and rage, she tried to question it on him. He doesn’t want to worry her so he lied and said he’s fine.

Eventually, when lunch time come, Shouto decided to get back at Jirou a little bit. He’s not low enough to really kick her (but she’s really testing his limit) but he’s petty enough to hide her pencil case. There’s two AC at the back of the class, which high enough that someone as short as Jirou can’t see  what’s on top of it.

Unfortunately, Momo caught him mid-act when he’s climbing the chair to reach the AC, apparently she left something in the class, he doesn’t have the time to hide the pencil case, so he just put it behind his back, but it was futile, as the angle he stands leave no room for secrets. She stared at the pencil case in his hand and then back at him.

“Isn’t that Jirou’s?”

He glanceed at the pencil case nervously. The weight of the case suddenly feels very heavy in his hand.

“Uh...yes.” he admitted. Shamefully bowed his head, he feels like he was ten years old again after his sister caught him spitting in Endeavour’s drink.

“You’re hiding it.” She stated, matter-of-factly. He start to feel really small under her gaze, “...yes.”

Shouto hop down from the chair and set down the pencil case on his desk, stealing a glance at Momo. He’s surprised to find her looking at him with mildly amused expression, “Is it to get back at her for yesterday?”

He nodded. She crossed her arms, smiling, “Then, I suggest you hide it in the cupboard,” she pointed at the class wood cupboard beside the teacher desk, “She never open it. Full of dust, she said.”

A huge sigh of relief come out of him. He took her advice, giving her an excited grin, and walk to the front. After the pencil case safely tucked in between books, Shouto closed the cupboard door.

Momo approached him, with slow and sure step, she clasp her hands behind her back. “Say, I’ve been wondering about this...”

Shouto’s hand went rigid, the way she said it makes a heavy drop on his stomach, similiar if anybody approached him with ‘I-need-to-speak-to-you’ phrase.

“Since when you and Jirou-san are so close, Todoroki-san?”

He relaxed instantly, it’s just that. “Hard to say,” although he can pinpoint exactly when, it’s the time she corner him in the hallway the day after Momo invited other people to their study ‘date’.

Momo hummed, she trained her eyes on him, “I always want to get close to you, Todoroki-san.”

He doesn’t know whether she mean it figuratively or literally, as she stand quite close to him, “What do you mean? We’re close now.”

Momo thought he was kidding, but she let out an exasperated sigh after seeing his unironic face, and he suddenly feel stupid, is it something that he said?

She is unnervilingly calm and collected, and she took another step closer to him, “I mean I want to get to know you better.”

His heart skipped a beat. He wants to know her better too, considering he is (as his mother put it) smitten with her. He open his mouth to answer her, but she cut him, saying words that made him forget to breathe.

“Todoroki-san, will you go out with me?”

It took him a full minute to decipher her words. Did she just....? That can’t be. No way. He must heard things wrong. But reality says otherwise, and he find himself gaped, lost for words. There’s a mad buble of laughter in his throat and he had to physically restrain himself to laugh out loud. Both from happiness and irony. Because Momo liked him, and she confess to him first (with much more grace than he could ever manage) after he spend so much time trying to do the exact same thing, Jirou would laugh at him, that’s for sure. And here he thought that he’s not all that bad with women.

It’s like a giant cosmic debt. The universe must be paying him off for making him so miserable all his life. He realized he’s been gaping like a fish for a while after Momo called his name. He snapped his eyes back to her, trying to keep his cool but to no avail, “Yes, of course, I would be happy to date you.” The words come out strained with untamed glee, but he couldn’t care less.

She take his right hand in hers, smiling in content, and muttered a soft “I’m glad.”

The magic moment broke when the door slide open abruptly, both of them jumped in surprise, quickly letting go of each other, but the intruder already caught sight of their little hand holding.

Jirou stood at the door, she is transfixed for a moment, glancing at Momo and then at him, her eyes staring at the space where his and Momo’s hand connected just a moment ago. Finally, she put two plus two and let out a freaking wolf whistle.

She looked pointedly at Shouto, “Nice to see you’re finally have the guts to confess.”

Shouto freeze, while his newly official girlfriend look shocked, she stare at Jirou, then at him and ask, “What does that mean??”

Shouto retreat back from them. Hiding her pencil case is definitely not enough, he probably has to kick her now.

[shybunnystudios]

secret santa | h.h. bh6

Well, guess who’s recycling old fanfiction because didn’t have time to write new ones again? Yeah... me. I hope you guys like it anyway, I wanted to write a BTS one but I was really out of time *sigh* Merry Christmas, anyway! Enjoy!

~ gif is not mine ~

Hiro Hamada X You | fluff | word count: +1.7k

The doorbell rang at the Hamada's place, aunt Cass yelled for someone to open the door for her. Tadashi answered the door a few seconds later.

"Hey (Y/N)! We all were just waiting for you."

"Hehe sorry for being late by the way."

"Don't worry about it, come on in."

You were wearing a red ugly Christmas sweater that had little green Christmas trees all over it and also a white shirt collar, dark brown leggings and some furry boots. You hung your white coat on the wall beside the door and followed Tadashi upstairs to the living room, a golden wrapped gift in your hands.

"(Y/N)! You're finally here!" You laughed and hugged aunt Cass back, you already could smell the great food she was cooking at the kitchen. "Make yourself at home. You can put your present under the tree along with the others."

This year you and the gang decided to make a different holiday. Instead of everyone buying little gifts for everyone you all decided to do a secret santa, so you guys could spend a little more money with a good present for only one friend. Even aunt Cass liked the idea and joined you, but Fred was definitely the most excited person in the group.

"Hey guys!" You said as you approached the couches where the gang was chilling and they greeted you back as you placed your gift on the ground.

You talked for a while with the holiday album of Idina Menzel playing low and softly in the radio. Suddenly you notice that Hiro hasn't talked, you glanced at him just to find him staring nervously at you but he quickly looked away even more nervous now.

He is your best friend, and you didn't know why he's been acting strange since you and the gang got the names of your secret santa's. It's true that lately you have been feeling weird around him because of how the puberty hits on him, and goddamnit, the bastard knew how to work on that boy! It's been two weeks that you can't sleep without thinking about him, but you never thought about his side of the situation.

"Dinner's ready!" Aunt Cass called all of you for the typical Christmas dinner. It was delicious, probably the best Christmas food you ever ate in your life but you couldn't expect less from aunt Cass’ amazing skills.

After feeding yourselves so much that you had to practically roll your bodies back to the living room, Honey Lemon was the one who suggested that the secret santas should be revealed now. You glanced at Hiro once again. He's looking at the floor with his head on his hand and frantically shaking his left leg up and down, patting his heel on the floor. He does that every time he's desperate, you knew it because he's you're one who does that and he ended up getting that habit of yours for himself.

"Okay. My secret santa..." Honey said once she got a yellow box. "Is... here in this room!" She said not innocently at all and everyone groaned or looked at her with a 'really?' face.

"Hahah okay sorry! My secret santa is a guy." The rest gestured for her to continue. "And if it wasn't for his weird obsession we'd all be with dirty hands from the food we just had now."

Then Fred screamed.

"AH! C'MON! IS IT ALL YOU GOT? OBVIOUSLY IT'S WASABI!" Honey nodded then giggled as Wasabi got up for a hug and to aunt Cass to take a picture. The gift was a professional suitcase for his tools he loves so much, Honey really knew how to impress people when it's about gifts.

Wasabi got a round black wrapped gift and cleaned his throat.

"My secret santa... is a girl, and I kind of got scared at first when I got her, but then I thought about this amazing gift," he lifted the present up. "And I calmed down... uh... well, I'm not into much mystery so I hope you like it Gogo." He handed the gift for her, she was shocked at first but then after the hug and the picture when she opened the gift.

"Wow! Wasabi, it's amazing!" She was smiling for real this time, rare thing to happen. "It's a typical 'Wasabi' kind of gift but I love it." Gogo raised the present and everyone echoed her 'wow!'. It was a black bike helmet with purple flames decals and a silver ‘G’ on each side of it.

"Safety comes first, my friend." Wasabi said proudly and Gogo hugged him again, such a Christmas-ish moment.

Gogo got a silver pack on her hands and said.

"Okay, my secret santa is a boy and... screw that I really wanna see him here at once! It's Hiro." Hiro froze as he heard that, he forced a smile at the picture and looked like a statue when he hugged her. Gogo gave him a mini kit of tools and a giant Gummy Bear plush.

Honey Lemon rapidly picked her phone and started recording as Hiro picked up a metallic black box, you were more confused than a blind person in the middle of a battlefield.

"Damn it! I thought my nervousness would fade by now but it didn't." He chuckled. "My secret santa is someone that means a lot to me and I hope that I mean a lot to this person too. I made the mistake to tell Honey who it is and now I'm here trying not to look like a fool." He scratched the back of his neck, you loved when he did that and you smiled involuntarily. "Honey said this was the perfect opportunity so... (Y/N), come here."

What? You looked around with a questioned look, got up and stand up beside Hiro. He gave you the gift.

"You're my secret santa." He revealed his adorkable tooth gap you loved too. Wow... There's a lot of things you love about him, right?

"Open it!" He encouraged you, you noticed Honey were still recording. You unwrapped the paper slowly to make a bit of mystery but Gogo couldn't stand that.

"C'mon!" You giggled and noticed Hiro blushing as you did so, when you finished unwrapping you gasped and looked back up at Hiro with a hand in your mouth. Right there in front of you were nothing more and nothing less than (*insert fandom thing you really want here*)

"Hiro!" you screamed, he laughed still blushing. "Keep going! There's more!" You took of the gorgeous thing out of the box.

"Wow! Can I see that (Y/N)?!" Fred asked excitedly.

"Sure," you stopped on your tracks. "Just don't ruin it please." Fred nodded as you handed it to him, you then turned back to the blushing black haired boy and blushed a little too.

You took off a lot of crumpled paper out to find a little dark blue velvet box at the bottom, you took it in your hands and it had the perfect same size of your hand. You looked at Hiro, he gently took the velvet box from your hands and placed the bigger gift box on the ground.

"Okay. There's two options right now: you literally gonna love me or you literally gonna hate me." You gave him a confused look. "You ready?"

"Well... I don't know!" Everyone chuckled.

"Just open the goddamn box already!" Tadashi screamed and aunt Cass laughed.

You turned to Hiro, he took a deep breath and opened the box with his eyes closed. You gasped at what you saw. It was a necklace, with your favorite picture of you and Hiro on it and in the back of the pendant was written ‘I love you - H’. Hiro slowly opened his eyes and pulled a little board out of nowhere.

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?"

Your hand went back to your mouth, so Hiro has been feeling the same for you all along? You felt your eyes get wet as he showed his tooth gap once again.

"Oh my gosh!" You finally spoke after what felt like an eternity for Hiro. "YES!" You threw yourself at Hiro's neck and the gang cheered as crazy.

"I've been wanting to do this for so long." He whispered in your ear as he hugged you back by the waist, you laughed.

"And I've been waiting for you to do this for such as long." You two broke the hug and Hiro helped you to put the necklace on.

He gave you a kiss on the cheek before heading back to his seat. You didn't pay much attention to the rest of the secret santa right now, you closed the circle giving Honey Lemon a cute summer scarf.

Then Fred gave aunt Cass a French imported tea cup kit. Aunt Cass gave Tadashi a new computer for his works, now he didn't need to share that one with Hiro anymore.And Tadashi gave Fred a collection of action figures of ‘The Avengers’.

Then you all took a lot of pictures and videos and also did a lot of ‘musical.ly’s with each other, you all had so much fun.

After a good round of hot chocolate you stood beside Hiro looking outside the window.

"So... You're my girlfriend now." He couldn't stop smiling while looking at the snow covered street.

"Yeah... And you're my boyfriend." You weren't different. "What would our little selves think about this?" You laughed.

"They'd probably puke!" He joined your laugh then looked deeply in your eyes. "I really meant that (Y/N)."

"Meant what?"

"What's in the necklace." You smiled breathing a laugh.

"But I wanna hear it from you, knucklehead."

"I thought you didn't like too much cheesy."

"And I don't. The things you do to me, Hamada." You got closer to him and he whispered just for you to hear.

"I love you, (Y/N)." All you could hear was both of your hearts beating in sync.

"I love you too, Hiro." You whispered back.

"Hey, lovebirds!" You both looked at the gang at the sound of Fred's voice.

"Look up!" Wasabi screamed this time.

"Mistletoe." You and Hiro said at the same time as you did what Wasabi told you to.

It was like slow motion. You looking at Hiro's brown eyes, he looking at your (*eye color*) ones as they started closing together with the distance between your lips.

Best. Christmas. Ever.

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