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lemonjoonah · 3 years

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Wrapped Together (M)

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

| Secret Santa Collab | My Masterlist |

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

...

-5 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-Less than 3 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you been doing this long?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So we're in the same boat?”

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

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

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

“Yes, thank you so much!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, they don’t!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

“Even the gift cards?”

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

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

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

“You’d be willing to show me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That I could drive?”

You nod giving him a sheepish grin this time.

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

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

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

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you like it there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

“Hey, how was work?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-2 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

“I’ll be fine.”

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

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

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

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

“What was that about?”

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

“Did she give you her phone number?”

Namjoon nods looking down with guilt.

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

“What? No, of course not.”

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

“No girlfriend.” Namjoon mutters.

“Boyfriend?”

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

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

...

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

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

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

“Buying art for the museum are you?”

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

“Not because you would love a drive?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

KNJ: Are you awake?

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

YN: Yeah, everything okay?

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

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

YN: They’re chestnuts.

KNJ: Chestnuts? 🤔

YN: Palatable only when thoroughly roasted. 🔥🔥🔥

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

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

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

“And let me guess, a prince?”

“You know it?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose you are pretty perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

“Fuck... yeah, did I wake you?”

“It’s fine, sorry I fell asleep.”

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

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

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

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

“Eleven okay with you?”

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A win-win.”

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

“Which do you prefer more?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit.” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“What, what happens now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? You would do that?”

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

“What are you doing-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

“You make it sound so easy.”

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

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

“Why not?!” Namjoon asks in alarm.

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

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

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

...

-1.5 Weeks Until Christmas-

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

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

“No, not at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t even begin to thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-2 Days Until Christmas-

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

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

The phone on your bedside vibrates with a new message.

KNJ: Just pulling in.

YN: Be right down.

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

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

“You wrap up nice.” Namjoon jokes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Valerie...” Eric growls.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, does she- do they-”

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

“Why would he be cautious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Find any new prodigies?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pull your hand free and race to the exit.

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

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

“Not without you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How-How do you know about that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-Christmas Eve-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s the holiday sea-”

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now is not the time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about all the supplies?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

-One Year Ago-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But we have plenty.”

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

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

“Of course. Any preference on paper?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m glad I could help.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

“Then the museum exhibit-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

“Did you make these?”

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

“I’m glad she did.”

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

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

“Beer okay?”

“Perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re like the snowflakes-”

“A paper thin plot full of holes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want that too. I want you.”

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

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

“I do, but I also want to last.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ninacarstairss · 3 years

Text

PARABATAI WEEK — day 6, underrated/fanon parabatai @carstairgray

i’m broken, torn apart, shattered and a couple more adjectives because of tftsa and it falls perfectly on the parabatai week so here are some simon x george parabatai headcanon

they place their parabatai runes on the back of their shoulders to symbolize they’ll always have each other’s back.

after the ceremony they go back to the new york institute and the rest of the gang surprises them with a party to celebrate.

simon places a stuffed rat on george’s bed before he shows him his new room, in memory of their days at the academy. the rat also has a tiny collar with “jon cartwright xxxv” engraved on it.

george jumps on the nearest chair when he sees it and his academy nightmares come back to him as simon is doubled over laughing near the door.

once the initial fear of having to deal with rats even at the institute passes, george keeps the stuffed animal and he adores it, it reminds him of their time at the academy, how he and simon met and became the brothers they are now.

they start having training sessions with jace and alec and they always end up on the ground with jace and alec triumphant over them but they put up quite a fight when fighting together.

they also like to train a lot with izzy and clary but that works way less for their skills because izzy and simon end up making out somewhere when one of them pins the other on the floor and clary and george just leave the room and go get a coffee before they can see something they won’t be able to forget. alec still talks about his nightmares regarding the time he walked in on simon and izzy in idris.

george gets to know the gang better and they all love him, but simon is especially happy when he notices him bonding a lot with izzy and clary and when he sees alec starting to trust him fully. jace ends up telling george so many stories about the first time he met simon and how he was when he first entered the shadow world, including the being-turned-into-a-rat part — george’s favorite ever since the academy — and that’s when simon knows jace really likes him too.

simon keeps schooling george in pop culture, movies, comics and the history of his band when he was a mundane and he drags george around the city in all the best places to find comics and the best film. soon enough george is making star wars references on a daily basis. though, he’ll never stop mocking simon about all the names his band went through, especially when he reveals the ones he though about during the academy that had to do with rats and other weird creatures, or grey eggs.

george often leaves to visit his family in scotland and he always takes simon with him. his parents love him and they always welcome him as a son. george couldn’t be happier and simon feels at home. he misses seeing his family every day, but he learned that for every loss there’s something to gain and this new part of a home is his own new piece of happiness.

once, though, the whole gang tagged along. george talked about the green fields and the sheep of scotland so much that they wanted to see for themselves. it’s a wild vacation and, between a hike and a tour of the nearby cities, jace gets not-so-gracefully swept off his feet by a running sheep and it’s a sight they’ll never forget or let him live down.

they have annual dinners with the group for the academy. no matter how far they’re all located from each other, they get a portal and meet in idris at least once a year and visit the muddy fields where scarsbury had them running and doing push-ups for as long as it took to kill them. beatriz and julie have also become a great pair of parabatai and jon manages not to be too obnoxious for one night a year.

simon also schooled george in the art of eating take out every day for basically all meals and told him to gently refuse every single thing that leaves the pan when it’s izzy cooking as soon as he stepped foot into the institute. surprisingly enough izzy and george find in each other some really horrible cooks who get along a lot and think they cook fantastic food while burning half the kitchen every single time they get close to a burner. simon’s desperate and he’s most likely going to loose his eyebrows in a kitchen fire soon enough. or worse, he might actually have to eat the stuff they cook one of these days. (credits to @icycoolslushie for the idea on this one)

when sizzy get married simon chooses george to be his suggenes and george cries his eyes out because his brother is so grown up and he’s getting married

once clary and simon convince the gang to celebrate halloween and they organize a halloween party at the institute for all their friends. george is the first to agree and he’s so excited. he and simon are planning matching costumes and decide to go as avatar characters — but with more covering clothes on, simon is stoic about this and george agrees it’s probably best not to risk finding themselves in the middle of a fight with a halloween night demon wearing only that little cloth around their hips — and they also kick it up a notch by dying their hair blue. except that they buy the wrong kind of dye and when the next day they wash their hair to get the colour off, it doesn’t go away. izzy and clary have to fix their mess with brown dye.

they are those friend that always do the craziest things you see on the internet and end up with the most aesthetic photos, like george in the middle of a parking lot with flashing lights surrounding him, sitting in a shopping cart and laughing, or simon naturally posing with his bow and arrow in front of a fantastic landscape and they become snapchat famous for these pics. izzy, alec and jace are pretty confused by this snapchat famous thing.

when simon moved in at the institute after the academy he installed a playstation in his room and most nights george is there with him, playing at 3am with snacks of all kinds surrounding them. izzy joins too sometimes but she’s not great at those games and has smashed a couple of joysticks after loosing multiple times, while clary kicks both their asses when she pops in for a game.

one night george entered simon’s room for a 3am game and instead found him with izzy, both of them half naked and in the middle of some sort of role play where izzy was calling simon “lord montgomery”. he never lets simon live that down and brings the name up in the most inappropriate moments — such as clave meetings — making simon choke on air every time. after that, though, george is very careful to knock.

simon’s pansexual and he’s a little afraid to come out to george at first, but he soon realizes he knows george and he wouldn’t turn his back on him, he wouldn’t leave. so when he does tell him he’s shaking slightly but he’s also happy and george clearly is too, he scoops simon into a tight hug and tells him he’s incredibly proud of him and reassures him he loves him no matter what, they’re brothers no matter what.

they’re not big on celebrations of birthdays or mundane holidays in general, but they do like to keep the traditions alive. both of them have been raised with no knowledge of the shadow world and they were observant of some religious and mundane holidays that shadowhunter don’t celebrate. so they like getting christmas gifts for everyone or organize parties for new year’s. they celebrate hanukah too and share other little traditions from their childhoods, like george’s family tradition of sheep’s wool-covered sweets and chocolates to find instead of eggs for easter or simon’s family tradition of taking a two day trip around spring to see the changing season and enjoy some free time, even if the trip is to the nearest town. they’re small traditions sometimes, but they like to keep the memories alive.

george becomes really good with max after that first encounter and the offer of raising him in his and simon’s drawer. he and simon often volunteer to babysit him, and rafe too afterwards, and they obviously use as bedtime stories the plot of star wars or comics, which the kids absolutely love.

sometimes when he’s stressed or tired george goes full on scottish and also switches to gaelic at times and simon is just there looking at him, torn between wanting to giggle at his usually contained behavior now unchecked and wanting to hug him and confort him. he always goes with the second, but he does love to hear george speak gaelic.

after the time at the academy when george was leading the mission to go after the faerie fruit vendors where simon got sucked into faerie he’s incredibly protective of simon in battle — or just all the time, actually. he’s thrown himself in front of simon more times than simon can count and he loves this kind of care, because of course he does the same whenever george is in danger, but it also makes him sad a lot because he knows george still feels guilty about that mission, even if nothing bad really happened, and he would do anything to make sure nothing similar ever happened again.

tag list @cordaisya @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @surrounded-by-exquisite-clutter @stxr-thxif @icycoolslushie @writeforjordelia @gabtapia @fair-childd @clarys-heosphoros @shadowhuntingdemigod (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

#cece writes #parabatai week #this is really just a huge dump of random headcanons #i just miss george okay?#a lot #george lovelace #simon lewis #simon lovelace #tales from the shadowhunter academy #tftsa #tmi #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc headcanons #headcanons #parabatai headcanons #my writing

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mybillyhardgrove · 3 years

Text

The Language of Love s.h.

A/n: another one! love language is such an endearing idea to me… plus, I need to show steve more love lol

ps. i mentioned watching movies too much lmao

Disclaimer: i don’t own any Stranger Things material

Word count: 3125

Warnings: a couple curses (par for the course at this point)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (female)

Summary: after being with Steve for a while, it has become clear how he shows his love for you

Words of Affirmation

You couldn’t stop shaking your leg or gnawing on the skin of your bottom lip on the drive over to the Wheeler’s house. You looked over at Steve when you heard him laugh a bit under his breath. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You nudged his shoulder a bit, whining that he share what was so amusing. He sighed, glancing over and resting his hand on your thigh before returning his eyes to the road. “I just think it’s cute how wound up you are to meet a bunch of kids. You can relax, they are not hard to impress.” The entire party was meeting at the Wheeler’s to watch The Neverending Story and it would be the first time you met them all. Of course you’d seen your boyfriend talking with them from time to time and you knew Billy, Nancy, and Jonathan from school, so you knew something about their younger siblings, but this was a different circumstance altogether. You thought you might be more nervous than when you met Steve’s parents.

“This is important, Steve. I mean, these kids are practically your children the way you talk about them, and I want to fit in, make sure they like me. You love them and I love you, so I really want this night to go well.” You took a deep breath, getting worked up again and grabbing his hand from your leg, squeezing it tight.

After a few minutes, he pulled his car to the curb outside the house and turned to you. You looked towards the first-floor window and saw the kids all gathered in the dining room, laughing and wrestling. Oh boy.

Steve reached over and put his fingers under your chin, turning your face towards him and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re gonna be great tonight. You are so funny and loving and sweet. Those idiots will love you as much as I do. Trust me, beautiful, just be yourself and everything will work out.”

And not to spoil anything, but it did. A few days later, Steve recounted over the phone how all the kids were raving about you and how cool, funny, nice, and pretty you were - just as he said they would.

Gifts

Ever since the first night you met them, you and the party were very close and they always invited you to everything they did. You accompanied them to the arcade from time to time, you helped El and Max get ready for the school dances, you gave the boys relationship advice, and you were even attending the Christmas party at the Byers’s house. Though it was usually you, Steve, and the kids getting together for impromptu hang-outs or some casual pizza nights, this evening involved everyone getting dressed up and bringing food, drinks, and their secret santa gifts.

You had received Max and took care to get her the specific skateboard she had been talking a lot about, information passed to you by Lucas. You gave the gift after being at the party for a couple hours and she jumped up and down, hugging you tightly and saying more than once how excited she was to try it out. After that success, you were riding high through appetizers and dinner, so glad your gift was a success and you were celebrating the holiday with those closest to you. When you had collected the plates for Mrs. Byers and finished washing them with her, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned and saw your handsome boyfriend in a cozy sweater and khakis, hair brushed back neatly from his face.

“Hey, stranger.” You reached out your arms, slipping them around his waist and letting him pull you in tight.

Mrs. Byers shooed you two to the living room to be comfortable, “Honey, everything is all set here. Thank you for the help.” Steve released you, draping his arm over your shoulders and walking with you towards the couch. Once you were both settled, you tucked into his side, watching the kids exchanging more gifts, he pulled something from his back pocket. Passing it to you, he leaned his lips to your ear and whispered, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” You looked over with a smile, surprised he hadn’t let it slip that he got you for the secret santa (he wasn’t the best at keeping secrets usually). You sat up a bit more, tearing the neat paper from the gift, gasping when you saw what it was.

A small, ornate book filled with ticket stubs, receipts, polaroids, pressed flowers, and other mementos from your relationship. Your vision got blurry as you looked through each page, reading the little handwritten descriptions Steve had added. When you got to the last page, it said ‘To be continued’, which made you giggle despite how emotional you were. You closed it and held it close to your chest, turning and kissing Steve a few times before thanking him profusely. “Steve, this is beautiful. I love it so much. I can’t believe you put this all together and kept these things.” He placed his hand on your cheek, running his thumb under your eye to wipe a tear away before kissing you again.

“The kids helped me set it all up and organize it, but I had been keeping it all in a little box in the glove compartment of my car. I looked in there from time to time when I was having a shitty day, so I put it in this book for you to look at.” His cheeks were red from all the attention and the confession, which you thought made him so handsome.

You kissed him a couple more times before resting your head on his shoulder, finally realizing that all eyes were on you. Steve seemed to realize at the same time, so he said, “Alright, show’s over. Put the movie on already.” When the lights were turned down low and all attention was on the screen, he turned to you once more, whispering, “Merry Christmas. I love you.” And what a merry Christmas it was.

Acts of Service

It was your birthday and you were dreading it. Birthdays felt like a day of awkward encounters and attention you didn’t want, all while being reminded you were another year older. For most of high school, it seemed to be a letdown in a way because it fell on some random weekday and you did homework for the evening, instead of something fun or relaxing.

This year, however, would be different because of the one and only Steve Harrington. When you had explained your sentiments about birthdays to him a couple weeks earlier, he assured you he would change your mind. You argued that your family would be leaving you for the week and hadn’t even mentioned or apologized that they would be missing your birthday. After making you feel better, he wouldn’t say what he was planning, but he seemed to think it would excite you.

You were on the couch working on Math when you heard a knock at the front door. You rose, opening the door to see your boyfriend juggling three bags full of stuff. “Come in, come in. Do you need help?” He shook his head and shuffled past you, heading right for the kitchen and putting everything on the counter.

When he had done that, he ran to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you off your feet, squeezing you tightly and kissing your neck a few times. “Happy birthday! Happy birthday!” He spun you around before setting you back on your feet. “Alright, I love you and this is all for you, but not yet. Please return to whatever you were doing and when you’re finished, you can… one second” and he rummaged through one of the bags with a frown before pulling out a VHS tape. “Here, this is your first gift. I grabbed it on the way over, so you can watch this while I do my thing in here. I will call you when I’m ready for you to see.” He turned you around and hit your backside, kicking you out of the kitchen and back to your place on the couch.

You were confused, but knew he had things handled and had been over enough to know where everything was, so you got back to work.

When you had finished, you played the movie and tried to ignore all the mumbling, clanks, and shuffling you could hear from the kitchen. At one point, you thought you heard him go upstairs, but ignored it. Then, after a little over an hour of that, Steve came back into the living room, announcing that he had cooked you your favorite dinner and the table was set for you to eat. “While you were watching the movie, I also took the time to clean the kitchen and your bedroom, all sparkly clean. I would like to say I saw your Christmas gift album up there, as well, which makes me very happy. Anyway, happy birthday.” He looked rather pleased with himself and you admitted you were too with all he had managed to accomplish in the time he had been over.

He offered his arm to you and escorted you to a beautiful dinner illuminated by a few candles and enjoyed the delicious food and meaningful conversation with your thoughtful and caring boyfriend.

“This is perfect, Steve, thank you. I think I am starting to like birthdays.” He did a little celebration dance in his seat. You laughed at his silliness, heart swelling with how grateful you really were and how much you loved him.

“Well, get ready because I also made dessert.” Yeah, you really loved him.

Quality Time

The nature of your relationship with Steve was that you spent a lot of time together, whether just the two of you or surrounded by people. He was clingy (in the best way), craving your attention and affection. He cuddled, hugged, and kissed you more times than you could count each time you were together, so you would say every time you were together was meaningful and special. If you both had your ways, you would spend all your time together, but the need for money outweighed those wishes.

Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy, but after everything in the mall, he and Robin began working at a movie rental place. You were not lucky enough to work with them, working instead at a pizza place that was always loud and always filled with rude teens and entitled adults. Your only time of solace was your hour lunch break, which you took each day at the same time. This was so Steve would know when to stop by. Usually, you ate a couple slices or walked to the strip mall across the street to grab something quick, but this time, Steve said he had lunch handled. When he said that, you frowned and tried to ask what he meant, but he wouldn’t elaborate, so you let it go.

Looking at the clock, it was finally time for you to get some fresh air and spend time with your boyfriend before returning to work again. You pushed open the door, bell jingling, and waited out front for the flash of Steve’s deep red car. After a few seconds of scouting the lot, you found it, parked a few spaces away, Steve smiling at you and waving through the windshield once he saw you approaching.

He got out to meet you at the front of his car, pressing a kiss to your lips and rubbing your back. “How is it going today, sweet cheeks?” You laughed at his silly nickname and explained that it was relatively quiet, fewer phone calls and customers than usual. “Oh, that’s great. The day will fly by and I’ll come pick you up when it’s all over.” He put up a finger to signal you to wait where you were, opening the back door and leaning in to grab a basket and a blanket. “In the meantime, I packed a little picnic for us because I remember how you feel a little sick of all the shitty food we’ve had lately. There are some sandwiches, chips, cookies, and sodas.” Steve placed the basket in your hands, a pleased smile on his pink lips. You never got over how thoughtful he was, always taking care of you. It reminded you of your birthday dinner and how much care he took to make it special for you.

“Thank you, honey. This is perfect. Where should we eat?” He grabbed your hand and brought you to the back of his little car, laying the blanket across the back and took the basket back from you. He put his hands on your hips, squeezing a little before lifting you on the back, making sure you were comfortable before pulling the lunch from the basket, explaining everything and kissing your cheek.

You spent the next hour talking and eating. While he was telling a funny story that involved Robin and a rude customer, you just looked at him - his soft hair, doe eyes, smooth skin, pink cheeks, full lips, and freckles, admiring how beautiful he looked. “And then, she said that he should… is there something on my face?” He stopped talking, rubbing his fingers across his mouth and chin, confused why you were staring at him. You laughed and grabbed his hands, kissing him and leaning your forehead against his.

“There is nothing on your face, Steve. I love you and how much time we spend together. This was a wonderful lunch. Thank you.” You kissed his cheek and encouraged him to finish the story before you had to pack up and return to work.

Physical Touch

Another Friday night with the party, another movie. This time, it was at your house. Since Steve started his new job, it had been even easier for you all to figure out the newest and most popular movies to try. After some arguing, the kids had chosen to watch Gremlins, which would not have been your first choice, but you didn’t want to get involved in the complicated debating. In the end, it wouldn’t matter because on these nights, you and Steve usually ended up whispering together or making snacks as the rest were entranced by the screen.

Max and El looked over at you, asking if you wanted to sit with them on the little mountain of pillows and blankets they had set up in front of the couch the boys were sprawled out on. You smiled and joined them, getting comfortable with one of the large bowls of popcorn you had set out for everyone. You and the girls reached your hands in the bowl every once in a while as you waited for the movie to start. Once it started, you hopped up and shut off the light, looking over to make sure Steve was comfortable. His eyes were already on you and he had an exaggerated pout on his lips, arms crossed as he sat in the big armchair by himself. You shook your head with a grin and returned to the girls.

A little while into the movie, you realized the popcorn was finished and the candy was getting low, so you grabbed all the bowls and quietly slipped into the kitchen, grabbing the makings to replenish everything. After beginning to pour the M&Ms into the bowl, Steve joined you, wrapping his arms around your stomach from behind and swaying you both a bit. “You ditched me. That wasn’t very nice of you.” He kissed your neck after that and you could feel he was a little lonely in that chair alone, despite being only a few feet from you.

You put the candy down, spinning in his arms and wrapping yours around his shoulders as he dropped his face into the crook of your neck. “The girls asked me to sit with them, Steve, sorry.” He grumbled against your skin, pulling you in tighter. You decided to indulge him as you were tired and snuggling into his lap seemed like a nice idea. “When we go back in there, I’ll tell the girls they can spread out more and I’ll sit with you in the armchair. Does that sound okay, you big baby?” You felt him smile and nod. He helped you finish refilling the bowls and carried them to the living room, setting them all by the kids to be devoured. You leaned over to Max and El, informing them of your seat change.

Standing back up, you saw Steve was on the chair and waiting for you to join him, a big blanket in his hand. You smiled and climbed on top of him, sitting with your legs curled up between his and your head against his shoulder. You shifted a little to make sure you were both comfortable and he pulled the blanket over you, wrapping you in his arms. After a couple minutes, you felt your eyes getting heavier with how warm and relaxed you were. Every few seconds, you felt light kisses pressed to your hair and his hand tracing your cheek. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear and it lulled you even closer to sleep. That was, until you heard some snickers and whispers. You lifted your head and saw that the boys on the couch and the girls on the floor were all looking at you, speaking in hushed voices behind their hands. Steve noticed too and frowned. “What the hell are you guys laughing at?” He said this lightly, already having a suspicion it had to do with the two of you.

Dustin answered. “Oh nothing, just that you two are showing a lot of PDA. Steve, you’re whipped.” With that, the kids all laughed, nodding and looking at you for a reaction. You snorted and lowered your head back down, closing your eyes and pressing them against Steve’s neck, letting him answer for you both. You wracked your brain and figured there must be plenty of times where you and Steve act like this in front of the party, so why was this so surprising?

“Oh shut up. Watch the movie.” Not the most graceful comeback, but you felt Steve’s chest vibrate with a laugh as he gestured towards the screen. You heard a few more laughs before attention was once again on the movie. He whispered, “What a bunch of idiots.” You smiled and Steve wrapped you up even tighter, rubbing your back as you fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #reader x steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington/reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things/reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfics #steve harrington fanfiction

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Sorry, it’s reserved

Honestly neither Marinette nor Chloe had been surprised when Bustier caved to Alya’s insistent requests that the two girls not be allowed to go on the class trip to New York City. Lila had been subtly hinting about how much friendly better thing would be if they weren’t there.

Mostly because just two weeks ago, Marinette had presented her class trip idea presentation; complete with a potential itinerary, pictures of the grand hotel could stay at, the fantastic tours they could go on, and exciting places they could eat. The class had been suitable wow’d.

What was surprising was when, after Bustier announced in front of the class that Marinette and Chloe couldn’t go to New York much to the smug faces of the students, Adrien said, “Cool. Then I’ll skip the class trip too.” He then turned to his two best friends. “What do you two want to do instead?” Adrien was sick and tired of the other students in the class. He had been trying to get them to believe Lila was a liar for months but no one, not even Nino, would listen to him.

Instead, they turned on the two most awesome girls in the class. Well, Adrien wasn’t going to deal with it anymore.

The look of horror on Lila’s face was priceless. However, there was no backtracking now. The dream of a romantic trip to New York, walking hand in hand with Adrien, burst into flames and was now nothing more than ashes.

“Yeah, I won’t go either,” Nathaniel stated. “Doesn’t seem fair. Marinette worked really hard on the idea for the trip.” He never bought Lila’s crap, and he never understood how anyone else did.

Marinette smirked, “I’m up for whatever.” She shrugged. “I’m actually looking forward to now having to organize the trip. Or fundraise for it. And to think I was going to start working this weekend.” The bluenette made sure to look directly at Bustier and Alya, her ex-friend when she said this. “Its only October but believe me, you’ll want to start making reservations fast. Nothing was done but the presentation; which you can have by the way. And just a reminder, a lot of places do require a down payment. Also, don’t forget approval from the school board.”

“Which takes like three months btw,” Chloe said with a vicious smile on her face. She was the last class president. She knew exactly how hard getting a fabulous trip approved of was. “Paperwork has to be filled out in triplicates and if you mess up on even one form, they’ll make you fill out the entire thing again.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I just let Daddy know that he won’t have to make his annual donation this year for the trip. If you don’t want us there you obviously don’t need it. And to think, he usually funds thirty percent of it. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

By the looks on the other students’ faces, it was clear that they didn’t know that. However, pride wouldn’t let them back down. Besides, Alya thought, they had the moral high ground. Who wanted to hang with bullies anyway?

To the other students’ credit, they did manage to raise enough money for the trip to New York. Granted, it wasn’t nearly as much as they usually did. Alya, the new class president, also forgot to make most of the reservations until the last minute, and it was hard to find a fancy hotel willing to accommodate an entire class of rowdy teenagers at the last minute. So they would stay at a Holiday Inn just outside of New York City. The glasses-wearing girl wished Lila had been so busy with her charity work so she would’ve had time to help and maybe they could’ve gotten a much better trip.

By the end, the class trip the class would be getting wasn’t nearly as were or amazing as the one Marinette had presented at the beginning of the year. However, most were just happy to be going to New York.

Lila shot four exiled students a victorious look as she bragged about all the things and people she’d get to see in New York. She had spent months trying to get Adrien to agree to go on the trip but he wouldn’t budge.

She sighed dramatically, “I love New York. The only bad part are the superheroes. Last time I was there Robin and Speedy practically got into a fistfight over who’d take me on a date. I hate getting in the way of friendships.” Marinette snorted. “We leave for New York in three weeks. What will you three be doing then?”

“Waiting for a house to fall on you,” Marinette said easily.

Adrien chuckled, “We leave for L.A in two days.”

That got the classes’ attention.

“Sorry, What?” Alya asked; suddenly getting a bad feeling in her stomach.

Chloe leaned back in her seat, “L.A. It was my idea. We decided since we couldn’t go on your trip we’d go on our own. Let's see… our first stop in L.A, we’ll be there for about a week; we’ll tour some movie studios, go on set for the Star Trek movie that filming. Attending the movie premiere of the newest Marvel movie. Then leave for Indio; it's not that far from L.A, I think. But who cares. We have to be at Coachella, even if only for two days. Then we go to Metropolis. And I can’t remember… Marinette what did you plan for us to do? It was her idea to go there.” She told the class who had looks of sheer dismay on their faces that got worse and worse as the four described the trip.

Marinette smiled, “Tour of LexCorp, a tour of Daily Planet, reservations for the grand opening of Gordon Ramsey’s new restaurant, we got backstage passes for a 5 seconds of Summer concert-” She was cut off

“Why couldn’t we go see Selena Gomez again?” Adrien frowned.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “Because you couldn’t beat Chloe in an arm-wrestling contest.”

“She is freakishly strong,” Adrien protested. “And she plays mind games!”

Chloe blew a raspberry at the other blond.

“We’ll be in Metropolis for about a week,” Marinette continued, as her two friends bickered and Adrien declared he would have his vengeance. “Then Adrien got to pick where we next.”

“Disney World!” The blond shouted. It was his biggest childhood dream and it was becoming a reality. “We’re going to Florida to Disney World, and then Universal Studios; where we’ll get to see the Magical World of Harry Potter.”

“Geek!” Chloe sniped.

“Slytherin!” Adrien hissed back at her.

“And proud,” Chloe crossed her arms. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Hufflepuff?” She said the Hogwarts’ house like it was a dirty word. “Most notable thing a Hufflepuff ever did was die. And then somehow ended up in Twilight.”

Adrien stood up angrily, “You take that back!”

“Make me!”

Adrien looked at Nathaniel, “Ravenclaw, do something!” Their two houses went together like PB&J.

Nathaniel put down his pencil, “No.” And went back to writing. “Make the Gryffindor do it!” He motioned to Marinette.

Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, praying to gods’ for patience.

Adrien, she was suddenly reminded, was loyal enough to help hide a body.

Nathaniel was smart enough to have already come up with an alibi.

Chloe as conning enough to ensure they got away it, after goading Marinette into doing it in the first place.

Marinette would eventually snap and kill Lila. She would need them. “We’ll be in Florida for about four days; enough to see both amusement parks. Then all four of us agreed to go to New York next. First, stop Gotham; we’ll be touring Wayne Industries and attending one of the Wayne family annual galas.”

“Then we go directly to New York City,” Chloe said examining her nails. “Mama arranged us a tour of Vogue and Mode. We’ll be going to a few of the runways for Fashion Week. Adrien’s father arranged for us to go see Hamilton on Broadway.”

It had taken a lot of time, effort, threats of going to the police, press, and CPS regarding child labor laws broken concerning Adrien to get Gabriel Agreste to agree to let his son go on the trip (as well as allow him to actually have a childhood). But there had been several conditions; mostly to do with security and proper supervision; which all the parents had, though not to Gabriel’s extremeness.

Still, the four kids agreed to the terms.

“We’re going to a baseball game!” Adrien added excitedly. “A real one. I’m going to eat a hot dog the size of my arm. And cotton candy the size of my head.”

Marinette nodded slowly, already picturing herself patting Adrien’s back as he whined about as stomach ache from eating too much.

Chloe frown, picturing the same. She had lost a pair of Jimmy Choos after one disastrous trip to the carnival that involved way too much greasy food and rollercoaster with two loops. She shook the nightmarish memory away, “Thanks to Marinette, we’ll be touring the Stark Industries and the Avengers tower. All the hotels we’ll be staying at are 5 stars. Also, we’re going to three, three Michelin star restaurants. I can imagine what would’ve happened if she had made the reservations late. We might have ended up in some god awful Inn.”

“Come to think of it,” Marinette paused thoughtfully, “We should get to New York about the same time you do. What are your plans? No! Don’t tell me. I’m sure they’re amazing and I don’t want to be jealous. I mean you kicked us off the trip so you had to have something out of this world lined up.”

Alya’s mouth was dry. She tried to come up with something to say; something to brag about but she knew that come September she’d have to pony up the pics. Because Pics or it didn’t happen. Chloe was active on social media; she’d be updating on a daily basis and scooping out her competition. She’d know instantly if they were lying and they’d never live it down.

Lila fought the urge to throw the biggest tantrum of her life. At the beginning of the year, after Marinette’s trip presentation, she thought getting the bluenette and Blondie off the trip was the perfect plan; even when Adrien said he wouldn’t go. However, it was soon clear that Alya and the other students were in way over their hands. The dream trip that Marinette had spun them would be realized as only a dream as it was clear they wouldn’t manage it without Marinette’s organizational skills and Chloe’s funding.

The trip they got was the standard tourist one. A look around the city, the statue of liberty, Time Square, and a museum or two. Honestly, Lila took better trips with her grandmother.

Maybe there was still a way to save things…

“You know,” Lila smiled sweetly. “Since we’re all going to be in New York anyway, we should do everything together-“

“Can’t,” Marinette stated firmly. “Reservations are reservations for a reason. Tickets were bought. You know how it is.”

Bustier frowned. This had ended the way she thought it would. When Alya and the other students beseeched her to disallow Marinette and Chloe from the school trip, she thought it was for the best. Chloe had always had a hostile attitude that Marinette seemed to have developed as well. It left the rest of the class with negative energy that wasn’t helpful for nurturing their growth.

However, she couldn’t have predicted just how badly things would go. Alya had come crying to her several times about having to fill out and re-fill out multiple forms for the school board. She seemed to get something wrong every time.

The children could barely raise enough money for the trip. And it wasn’t nearly as wonderful as the one Marinette had come up with at the beginning of the year. Still, they were going to New York which was what counted. Most classes wouldn’t even have gotten that far, She thought smugly. It would be a good trip. (Caline had dreamed about accidentally running into Steve Rogers or Thor and being swept off her feet. And she thought that dream wouldn’t even be possible if she was too busy trying to reign in her to most troublesome students which were one of her reason her telling the two they couldn’t go.) However, even that trip paled in comparison to the one the bluenette had planned for her and her two friends. 5-star hotels, trips to galas, fashion week, going to the Avengers Towers, possibly meeting Captain America, Thor, and the rest! It all sounded too good to be true.

“There must be something you can do,” Bustier said. “It would be nice if all my students were together.”

The other students looked at the tour with hope clear in their eyes.

Adrien, Marinette, and Chloe just looked at the teacher like she was dumb. Each fought the urge to remind the teacher that she was just fine with the three not going less than ten minutes ago.

Adrien rolled his eyes, “There isn’t. Everything was bought and paid for. They are only expecting four kids which is why we get to go to so many places. Turns out, not many hotels and restaurants want to deal with a bunch of teens at the last minute.”

Marinette nodded, “Besides you wouldn’t want us crashing your trip anyway. We’d hate to get in the way. We know you guys wanted a drama-free trip.” She through the term back in their faces. “But I wouldn’t mind meeting up one day. You guys are doing time square right. Let us know when and we’ll see if we can do it the same day.”

“If we can fit in our schedules,” Chloe snapped. “It's pretty packed.”

“Not as packed as theirs, I’m sure,” Marinette smiled kindly, though inside she was doing a victory dance worthy of a champion. “I can’t wait to see the pictures.”

The four left that Friday. By Sunday, the social medias were filled with dozens of pictures of beautiful hotel rooms. The next three weeks were the worst in the class’s entire lives. The other students in the class tried their best not to look but it was hard. Particularly when the picture of Marinette, Adrien, and Chloe on the red carpet started to make waves. Pictures of the four meeting various celebrities like Lex Luther and Chris Pine, superheroes like Superman and Batman, of them at Disney World and Coachella had left more than a bit of envy in their hearts.

Their own trip had started out terribly. Alya hadn’t book enough rooms so they had to triple bunk, with some people having to sleep on a cot. And it turned out that the only tours she had secured was to Elis Island and the New York Art Museum; nothing nearly as exciting as they hoped. So they had been mostly left on their own for sight-seeing.

Still, it wasn’t a terrible trip. They ate great good and saw the normal New York tourist attractions.

However, when the time came for them to go to Time Square and meet up with Adrien, Alya, Chloe, and Marinette, Bustier was ready to pull her hair out.

Bustier never had trouble on any of the previous trips, as they were always organized to the minute, but this one had so much free time the kids didn’t know what to do with themselves which resulted in chaos. And being threatened with being kicked out of the hotel. She didn’t understand what was different. The students were usually so well behaved.

Sure on previous trips, there had been two more chaperones but Bustier always thought they were unnecessary. Her students were the best and most well behaved in school for the most part. She was positive that they only needed their teacher to watch out for them.

She was wrong.

And Bustier was very surprised to see Mendeleiev there with her four wayward students, looking very much like the Cat that got the Canary.

“Demetria,” Bustier greeted politely. “What are you doing here?”

Mendeleev didn’t bother to hide her smirk. “I was invited as a chaperone. It just me and Gorilla. Between the two of us we keep the delinquents in check,” She said Delinquents at the four who playfully hissed at her. Each of the four wore a black shirt with a different Hogwarts house on it.“Best decision I ever made. I was reluctant at first as it’s not school-related and I wouldn’t be paid for it. But Agreste and Bourgeois are paying me nine times my usual amount an hour to watch the kids like a hawk. Luckily their goods kids. What about you? How is your class trip going?”

Bustier forced herself to smile, and not bite out angrily that it was driving her insane. The kids were driving her completely up the wall. And Caline was more than a little aware of how amazing her four students trip was and to think Mendeleiev had gotten to do it all with them made her blood boil and her eyes practically turn green with jealousy. “Extremely well. We are having… the time of our lives.”

“I’m sure,” Mendeleiev said. She and the rest of the teachers had never been happy with how Bustier ran her class. Or just how much she and Damocles got away with. However, it didn’t matter. Come September, things would change. Damocles had already gotten fired for taking bribes, breaking procedure, and being a complete idiot.

Bustier, while technically, hadn’t done anything wrong would still have to listen to the school board tell her everything that was wrong with her class. And there was a lot.

“Have you gone to the Avengers tower yet?” Bustier asked, not subtly at all. She still hoped that if there was time she and her class could tag along.

“We have,” Mendeleiev told her, bursting the bubble of hope that had sprung in Caline. “It was quite wonderful. I had a wonderful debate with Doctor Banner; it turns out he’s read several of my papers and me, his. While the kids are at the baseball game tomorrow, the two of us will be having a lunch date and going over our scientific hypothesis tomorrow.”

“Get it, Ms. Mendeleiev,” Chloe laughed.

Mendeleiev shot her a stern look but her mouth twitched as she fought a smile.

“Perhaps my class could go with?”

“Sorry, we have a reserved seats.”

Envy flared in Caline Bustier more than ever before in her entire life. If they had been still in Paris, Hawkmoth would’ve had a field day. “Oh but what about watching the kids. Won’t they need you? What would their parents say about this?” A vicious smirk appeared on Bustier’s face. She always thought Mendeleiev needed to be knocked down a peg or two.

Mendeleiev didn’t bat an eye, “Already covered. Already cleared with their parents. After all who’s going to say no to Captain America and Iron Man babysitting their kids. Steve hadn’t been to a game a while and he really wanted to take his son Peter and the rest of Tony’s interns. The kids should have a blast.”

Adrien shot a bright smile at his bodyguard, “Natasha is going too! I still don’t understand how you two know each other.”

Gorilla’s face burned a red color but he remained silent. He wore the bright yellow and black Hufflepuff scarf Adrien had begged him to wear as a show of support, particularly when Mendeleiev revealed herself to be a Ravenclaw (So did Bruce Banner). Captain America and the Winter Soldier high-fived Marinette over being Gryffindors. And Pepper Potts, Iron Man, and the Black Widow introduced themselves as Slytherin alumni.

Where was the Hufflepuff love?

Adrien had looked at Hawkeye with hope but Clint had shrugged and said, “Gryffindor.”

The blond boy huffed and pouted (the pout was how he got Gorilla to wear the scarf). He bet Thor was a Hufflepuff.

The rest of Bustier’s class still steer clear away from the four; out of pride and envy. Lila had attempted to go near Adrien but was stopped by Alya who didn’t want to risk her bestie getting bullied by the meanest girls in school.

Alya had decided after seeing the pictures of the four with Superman, The Avengers, Batman, and THE LOIS LANE that life just wasn’t fair. If it was Marinette and Chloe (Maybe even Nathaniel) would be stuck in Paris, crying their eyes out over not being allowed on the trip. It was what they deserved for being such bullies.

The preplanned tour of Times Square, which was mostly just the kids walking around and awing at the pretty lights. It was actually a bit boring, once the excitement wore off. They found themselves on the highest building there, looking over New York City in its entirety, along with a bunch of other tourists.

Suddenly all the electronic billboards and every ounce of electricity turned off. Crowds up people looked around confused.

The giant monitors blurred and a face appeared, “Greetings citizens of New York, I. AM. THE. Electrocutioner!” Lights were centered on the highest building there, and it was clear the villain stood on top of the building. The building of Bustier’s class was on.

One thought echoed in the minds of each Parisian citizen, “Fuck.”

Before any of the Paris heroes’ could figure out if they should act or not, another team of heroes arrived.

The evil-doer had with him a dozen or so henchmen, each more menacing the last.

The sight of Kid Flash zooming up the side of the building was incredible. Seeing Young Justice kick butt left Marinette a little breathless.

Was this what it was like, she wondered, seeing Ladybug fight.

When some of the henchmen were ordered to take hostages; Marinette, Chloe, Nathaniel, Adrien, Gorilla, and Mendeleiev fighting back much to the shock of Bustier and her class. Chloe rolled her eyes as she, and the other three pulled out miniature pens from their pockets; did they really not know how often New York is attacked by Super Villians. Seriously.

With a click of the button, the pen turns into a long whip. Chloe refused to be taken without a fight. Her and Marinette, who now wielded a fighting staff, nodded at each other. The blonde snorted when she looked at Adrien, “A shield, really?”

“I don’t want to hurt people too much,” Adrien defended.

“This is why you’re a Hufflepuff.”

Nathaniel spun his trident around. It worked like a Taser and could shock people. Luckily only the villain had electricity powers.

Marinette didn’t know how it happened but suddenly she was fighting back to back with Robin.

“Nice moves,” Robin said after Marinette knocked out a henchman with a high kick. He knocked out a henchman with his staff.

“Not too bad yourself.”

Nathaniel nearly had a heart attack when Aqualad jumped in to help him protect several tourists. When biggest henchmen came rushing at him, the redhead fired up his trident and within seconds the underling was down for the count.

Kaldur paused, “…Can I borrow that?”

Chloe used the whip with ease and grace. She has been practicing with it ever since she saw Shadow Hunters for the first time. Isabelle Lightwood was an icon.

The blonde didn’t know how it happened. But one minute she was fighting off two lame minions then she saw an Arrow guy fighting and then falling off the roof, and the next thing she knows she’s jumping after him. Then they both were dangling off the roof with only Chloe’s whip for support.

“You call this a rescue?” Arrow guy snorted.

“You call yourself a hero?” Chloe snapped.

“Meow!”

Chloe didn’t see how he did it but one moment she was hanging there; the next Arrow guy was swinging her up back onto the roof.

He smirked at her, “You’re a pretty one.”

She waved him off, “Oh go save someone!”

When Superboy crashed down next to him after taking a brutal hit, Adrien gripped his shield and stood in front of him. Adrien was able to block most of the attempts of the underlings to reach the boy of steel. But it wasn’t long until they had them surrounded. Just when Adrien thought he was a goner, red lasers blasted the henchman back.

Superboy stood up, “Thanks for the assist.” He smiled at the blond boy. “Nice shield.”

Gorilla and Mendeleiev handled their own really well. After seeing Gorilla fight, Adrien started to have some serious suspicions about just how his bodyguard knew the Black Widow.

When the fight was over, and the villains detained, the small group stood with the rest of the civilians until the all-clear was given.

The Bustier and her class stared in awe as the members of Young Justice walked over to the six with large smiles. The heroes didn’t even spare the class a glance. Not even when Alya pushed Lila to the front but Robin and Arsenal never even noticed her.

Dick Grayson, Robin, smiled at the pretty bluenette with bluest eyes he’d ever seen and did his best to ignore Batman in his ear about bringing in the Heroes Ladybug, Chat Noir, Queen Bee, and Bright Roar in to Watch Tower stat. He knew all about Ladybug and, thanks to Batman, knew her civilian identity. But to see her in person was a whole different experience.

No, there was a time and place for everything. And right now the time was to flirt with the Gorgeous Superhero who a skintight red suit.

“You’re amazing,” He told her honestly. “What are you doing for the rest of my life?”

“I swear to god if you propose!” Batman hissed in his ear.

Marinette blushed a bright red.

Kaldur handed the trident back to Nathaniel, “This is an amazing weapon. You use it well.” He told the redhead. This must be the new Hero Bright Roar “I wish for one just like it.”

Nathaniel flushed but handed the weapon back to Kaldur, “Keep it. I’m not that good with it.”

Kaldur smiled, “Then perhaps you will let me teach you one day. One on one sessions.”

“Really Kaldur,” Aquaman chastised. “This is a mission, not a dating show.”

Aqualad ignored him.

Superboy nodded at Adrien, “You’re good,” he told the smaller blond boy. Though from the reports he read about Chat Noir, he was only a year younger than him. “Cool shirt by the way. It's nice to meet a fellow Hufflepuff.” He said and then suddenly his arms were full of a blond boy thanking him for existing.

“Breathe,” Superman chuckled in his ear. “Just breathe, Connor.”

“For such good finders, we’re so hard to find,” Adrien said. “I could kiss you!”

Superboy turned the brightest shade of red anyone had ever seen.

Arsenal eyed the hot blond girl, “At least you know how to stay out of the way.”

Chloe glared at him, “Next time, I’ll just let you die.”

“Then who be the man of your dreams.”

“Freddie Kruger would probably take his job back,” Chloe said with a hand on her hip. “Though his face isn’t as terrifying as yours.”

“That girl will eat you alive,” Oliver warned in his ear.

“So you admit you dream about me,” Roy stepped forward.

Chloe huffed, “Get real!”

“Hey,” Alya called. “Robin, Speedy, don’t you want to say hi to Lila Rossi.” She motioned to the Italian girl who had gone pale.

“It’s Arsenal now,” Roy corrected.

Dick nodded, “And who’s Lila?”

Marinette smiled, “Oh I’d totally marry you now!”

Robin grinned and raised his arms in victory.

Batman cursed in his ear.

Robin, Arsenal, Aqualad, and Superboy kept their attention on the on the four. No matter how much their superhero mentors protested. No matter how much Bustier’s tried to intervene.

No, their attentions’ were reserved

#ml fic #ml salt #class salt #Young Justice #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Marinette deserves better #adrien deserves better

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crazy-loca-blog · 3 years

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Casey Valentine: About Her Future

A/N: This has been one hell of a ride! Talking about Casey and her life has been an amazing experience. There are many situations about her future that I haven't figured out yet, that's why I'm keeping things in a very limited timeframe (around 2 and maybe 3 years after the end of her residency). Thanks a lot to @openheartfanfics for organizing this event. I've had a blast!

Meet My MC || About Her Past || About Her Present

Casey has been leading the diagnostics team for over two years now. And things have changed a lot.

As soon as she assumed her new role, she was determined to make the team the core of a system that also involves the rest of the departments at Edenbrook. And she uses her friends for it.

Casey, Ines and Jackie are implementing a special program to evaluate interns and residents in order to discover outstanding doctors that may support the diagnostics team and other areas in the hospital after their boards. It follows a lot of the guidelines that Ethan used when they were interns, but it also gives selected residents an opportunity to assist the diagnostics team in some cases in order to improve their skills.

Elijah and Zaid became her go-to people when it comes to studies and reseach, especially in those cases where experimental treatments are the only option for patients.

Sienna quickly became a team favorite. As the best pediatrician at Edenbrook, every time the team receives a pediatric case, she is involved in the course of treatment of the patient. Casey is considering to offer her a permanent spot in the team.

Bryce's research skills when it comes to evaluate surgical options for patients are brilliant, so he frequently helps Harper by giving her second opinions on certain procedures. He also covers for her as member of the diagnostics team every time she's on leave.

When a patient needs rehab after some surgery, Rafael is the one in charge of the process. The results his patients achieve in their recovery are proof that he has all the profesionalism, the patience and the work ethics the team needs in their collaborators.

As per Baz and Ethan, Casey convinced them to keep collaborating with the team on an ocassional basis. They are one of the best immunologists and the best diagnostician in the country, so she needs their brains in her team, even if it's not permanently. They assist in the hardest and most enigmatic cases.

Despite all their efforts, the team can't accept every case they receive. And that's when Kenmore help is appreciated. A year ago, Tobias, Casey and Aurora developed a collaboration project between the diagnostics teams of both hospitals, which now allows both Edenbrook and Kenmore to help twice the amount of people they used to assist when they worked separately.

Of course, none of this would be possible without Ethan's help. As Chief of Medicine, he has the power to approve most of Casey's projects, so he's been making a very good use of a position that he wasn't convinced to accept at first. It's definitely been a win-win situation when it comes to team work between Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Valentine.

Despite of them being very private when it comes to their personal lives, there is no doubt that Casey and Ethan are relationship goals. If seeing them working together in the past was a delight, the way they've been ruling Edenbrook after becoming official has certainly helped them become the power couple the hospital needed.

Because you can definitely tell they're not only great partners, but also each other's best friend. Their nonverbal communication skills are at a whole different level and they certainly boost each other in a way you can tell they're the best thing that has ever happened to the other. They're in love and it shows.

That's why no one was surprised when, after 8 months of becoming official, they decided to move in together.

But everybody was surprised when Ethan proposed only a few months afterwards. Except for his dad and her brother (who were the only people who knew about his plans), literally no one saw it coming, not even Casey (because yes, Ethan has mastered the art of surprising her).

They almost canceled the wedding... twice. The stress of their jobs plus the chaos that involves planning a wedding was beginning to affect their wellbeing as individuals. It wasn't a big issue for any of them: Casey never cared about having a ring on her finger and they both knew that nothing about their relationship would change if they didn't sign a piece of paper, as they were certain they had sealed the deal a long time ago.

The thought of an elopement also crossed their minds... and right when they were about to do it, Sienna came up with a brilliant idea to save their original plan: a micro wedding, that took place 6 months ago.

These newlyweds like saying they have a family of four: Ethan's dad and Casey's brother are pretty much the only relatives they have, so they consider them part of their household. They even have their own rooms in their new home in Boston!

They'd both agree that getting used to wear a ring has probably been the hardest part of their marriage, even when they cared about buying bands that were "compatible" with their jobs. But they are pretty sure that if they take it off, they'll end up losing it, so they kind of gave up. They expect to get used to it over time.

When they're not at work, they love exploring all the hidden gems that Boston has to offer. They've found a bunch of great places thanks to Rafael's recommendations, but they have also discovered a lot of new places by themselves. That doesn't mean they don't enjoy a good date at home after an exhausting day at work or getting lost and disconnecting from the world for a full weekend without telling anyone where they are.

This philosophy of discovering new places also applies to their holidays. Sometimes they'd go to well-known places, but they both agree that their favorite trips are those where they visit underrated destinations. Of course, they also leave a few days to visit Alan in Providence and to go to Casey's home in Virginia.

Kids? They have talked about it, but they don't feel ready to take that step yet. Not only their jobs are very demanding, they both have some baggage they need to get rid of before thinking about becoming parents. They're not in a hurry though, they're convinced that everything happens for a reason... they are happy, and that's all that matters.

She may not live with them anymore, but the roomies (and the rest of the gang) are still incredibly close. Casey still has lunch with whoever is available almost every day, and they still have a booth with their names on it at Donahue's.

When Casey moved in with Ethan, they didn't search for a new roomie. With the exception of Sienna, they all were attendings, so it was easier for them fo afford Casey's part ot the rent. They decided to turn her room into an office they all use a lot.

And none of them has the intention to leave their apartment any time soon. Housing in Boston is incredibly expensive, and they know none of them could afford a place like the one they have by themselves. This also gives them a chance to get rid of their med school debt a little faster.

Jackie, Aurora, Sienna and Casey also host a "girls just want to have fun" event at the apartment whenever Elijah visits his parents. It's a bonding tradition they started during their residency and they have no intention to finish any time soon. Sometimes, Kyra (when she is in town), Ines and Angie join them as well.

Bryce is the person she relies on when she needs a brotherly figure. She can definitely see a lot of her brother on him, and he always seem to have the right answer to everything. He also had to get a bigger place, as Keiki returned to Boston after being accepted at Harvard. Casey and Jackie guided her to attend med school... and convinced her to become a diagnostician.

The gang never knows when Kyra is going to make some surprise visit. She's been travelling around the world for a long time now, but she's been back home a few times for special ocasions. The last time they saw her was for Casey and Ethan's wedding.

Sienna and Casey have been exchanging recipes for a while now. Casey can cook to survive, but Ethan takes cooking to a whole new level, so Sienna usually comes to the rescue when her bestie needs help.

Casey is also playing matchmaker between Sienna and Rafael. She has been observing the way they look at each other for a while, and she's convinced they would make the cutest couple ever. Because beautiful souls deserve to be together. So yeah, she most definitely will introduce Sienna and Rafael's vovo very soon with some "help me cook dinner" excuse.

Tags: @adiehardfan @izzyourresidentlawyer

#oph meet my mc #oph meet your mc #casey valentine #open heart

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the-haven-of-fiction · 3 years

Text

Not A Christmas Movie

Genre/Rating: Fluff and Sweetness of the holiday variety, T

Summary: Tom and Astrid find themselves in a unique situation on Christmas Eve.

Author’s Notes: My first sappy romantic Christmas one shot, y’all! Move over, Hallmark! I tried to cover some of the best cheesy themes, I hope you enjoy it. Thank you to Pillow Talk and Lolo for proofing.

The sound of the wind and snow raced through the trees and whipped against the walls of the cabin, the remote mountainous location devoid of any welcoming lights from neighbors. The two travelers dropped their luggage upon crossing the threshold and rushed to push the heavy door shut behind them.

“When we get through this, neither you nor my sisters are ever allowed to make fun of my emergency preparedness again! We’d be in major trouble without it!” Astrid declared, brushing snow off her jacket and holding up the lantern from the referenced emergency preparedness with her other hand as Tom attempted to lock the door.

“I think I can safely and assuredly,” he paused to run his tongue over his perpetually chapped lips in concentration, “give you my word as an Englishman that I shall never,” a grunt of effort, “allow either myself or your sisters to utter a syllable of criticism on that score.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his struggle with the lock.

“Remember when you had the brilliant idea to build a set for one of our backyard holiday productions? Was that when you played Scrooge? Your word as an Englishman may be good as gold, but your complete lack of skill with anything slightly mechanical is something I wouldn’t swear by.”

Even in the dim light of the lantern, the slight twitch of a smile was visible on his face, the vision of the pathetic attempt so vivid in his memory.

“No one is going to believe this,” she sighed, shivering and looking around for a light switch.

“Truth is stranger than fiction,” Tom quipped. “The best intentions of a Christmas surprise, a series of unfortunate events, a comedy of errors…”

“I blame my soon to be ex-mechanic, the weatherman, Anya and Arlyss and their crazy idea about trying to organize our families into coming out here to the wilderness to have some kind of storybook Christmas,” she huffed, fumbling along the wall, but finding the switch and flipping it to On in relief.

They both groaned when nothing happened. No electricity, no heat.

“They must have disconnected the electricity during renovations, fantastic.” He followed close behind her as they made their way around the cabin. Although the snowstorm was in full force and there weren’t any outside lights on the driveway, they could see evidence of construction as they had pulled up a few minutes earlier.

“Well, at least there’s a fireplace and I think there is actually a pile of wood next to it,” Astrid pointed as she spoke. “How about that. Must have been stocked by the same person who left the door unlocked. Remind me never to hire this company, whoever they are.”

“I could go outside and check for the…uhm…the…” Tom stuttered and gestured, making what she assumed was meant to be a square shape of some kind.

“The breaker box?” she asked dryly.

“Exactly, yes,” he answered in a tone of false bravado, clearing his throat. “I was merely waiting to see if you knew the name.”

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little boys who lie, ya know.” She set the lantern on the mantle next to a small glass dish of matches. “Especially little boys who grew up in a centuries-old estate and have servants who take care of locking the doors and fixing the electrical problems.”

“They are not servants, they are staff, Miss Sassy, and I doubt Father Christmas knows we are here, no one does,” he replied. “Add the one forgotten mobile and the other with no service to the list of things that won’t be believed.”

“Well, anyways, Professor,” she went on in an exaggerated manner, “I may have a First Aid kit in my emergency supplies, but I am not equipped to perform any surgery on wounds you would most certainly incur from trying to play Electrician.”

He knew she was correct and they both smiled, cheeks rosy with cold.

“I suppose it was fortuitous that I ended up teaching Classics rather than embarking upon a career in carpentry.”

Astrid got a fire going and they were able to scope out their surroundings more thoroughly. A last-minute change of plans had allowed the visiting Tom and originally scheduled-to-work Astrid to join their families in the mountains for Christmas, but a quick succession of unforeseen events had brought them here, stranded close to midnight in a semi-livable cabin during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

The owners must have been undergoing some kind of renovations. The cabin obviously had been inhabited previously, but half the interior wasn’t complete, including the kitchen.

“The toilet flushes!” she shouted from the bathroom. “And there’s running water in the sink!”

“Unfortunately there is no sofa or chairs of any sort and only one bedroom,” he reported when she came back into the main room, “No fireplace, but it does have a bed with linens.”

“Well, my kit has extra batteries so we should be okay with the lantern in there,” she assured him, completely missing his point about the issue of a single bed.

He noticed that her shivering wasn’t decreasing as much as it should, looking her up and down in concern. She was wearing an ankle-length corduroy skirt in a shade that matched her eyes, with a long-sleeved but thin sweater.

“I think we should go through our luggage and put on a couple of more layers. That centuries-old estate was a bit drafty, so I am accustomed to an indoor chill,” he informed her with a tinge of that irritating blend of both humility and privilege.

She rolled her eyes, but went over to her suitcase and started sifting through her clothes.

“You and the twins have always been bossy. It’s a wonder how I have managed to get through life as an adult without the three of you hovering over me like you did when I was a kid.”

He pulled on another shirt and grinned at her.

“I still remember the day you were born. I was visiting Dad and Roberta that year for Christmas,” referring to the alternating schedule their families had of who went to which country for the holidays. “And your sisters and I were old enough to be excited rather than jealous of a new child coming.”

Astrid turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see her reaction. Why did it please her so much to hear him speak of her birth with such affection? It must be this ridiculous situation. And the holiday. And her birthday. And this sparkling blue-eyed man whose place in her life she had never been quite able to define. Not a blood relation, but as close as a family member, certainly more than a friend. But more than a friend, in that sense? College and adulthood had made the unanswered question less important, as the shared summers and holidays of their childhood had grown fewer and fewer. She didn’t let herself ponder why he hadn’t married and had a dozen children to help him keep up that manor. Any woman would be elated at the prospect of sharing her life with him; she knew he had a string of casual relationships, just as she had, but their age difference had made her sure years ago that he would be a distant memory by this time.

“Born on Christmas Day to parents named Joseph and Mary, merely the beginning of my life’s trajectory of ‘You won’t believe this!’ events, continuing to this bizarre night that has practically every plot point needed for a cheesy holiday movie except that we aren’t secretly pining for each other.” She zipped up the windbreaker over the thicker sweater before reaching for her parka, not seeing the brief flicker in his eyes.

“Did you know that Arliss wanted to call you Snowflake and Anya’s choice was Mistletoe?” Tom picked up her scarf and hat that he had placed on the hearth so they would be toasty and walked back to her.

“I hear that story every year, along with all the suggestions from everyone to aunts and uncles to the postman. Thank God my parents went with something on theme, but not silly.” She pulled on her boots after a second pair of socks and looked up at him.

His expression changed and he drew in a short breath.

“Do you like your name?”

The inquiry was brimming with something that sounded like hope to her.

“Oh, yes, I’ve always loved it. In fact, I love it as much as I’ve disliked having a birthday on Christmas because it is beautiful and unique and it made me feel beautiful and unique.”

A wave of pure delight lit up his face and something clicked in her mind. Her parents’ version of where her name came from was always that someone had mentioned it to them and they couldn’t remember who it had been.

“It was you, wasn’t it,” Astrid said. And it wasn’t a question. “It was your suggestion.”

He worried at his lower lip, a tic she’d come to know years ago that was a sure indication of him being both pleased and embarrassed.

“Yes,” the soft affirmation punctuated by the crackles and pops from the fire. “And your description is precisely how I thought of it then, thanks to having just started Latin in school, and,” a heartbeat of silence, “it is how I think of you now.”

He was standing directly in front of her and paused to survey her face for a few seconds before tapping lightly under her chin.

Without even thinking about it, it seemed, she looked up at the ceiling so he could wrap the heated scarf around her neck. The warmth felt wonderful, although the feeling caused by this stunning revelation about her name and the look on his face was already warming her up in a way she tried to herself wasn’t happening.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled the hat down while she argued with herself that he was simply being affectionate in the manner of a friend.

“Well,” she said, a little too loudly, stepping back from him, “That down comforter is calling to me, I guess we should be getting to bed.”

Good heavens, the bed, she thought. As in one bed.

As in here, as in they were stuck with a snowstorm swirling around them.

In a cabin that was being renovated. With no power or heat.

On Christmas Eve.

This couldn’t be real, it was not a Christmas movie.

“I suppose we should,” still in that soft voice.

A distraction. She needed a distraction.

“Oh! I just remembered! I have my favorite Christmas movie downloaded on my phone, we can watch it before we go to sleep.”

Less than two hours later, David Niven was giving his sermon and Loretta Young was gazing up at him while Cary Grant walked away in the snow. Tom was propped up a bit against the headboard and had insisted on holding the phone so she could stay under the blankets. Somehow she had ended up almost pasted to his side as the story progressed and his arm was around her. About halfway through, they’d had a little tussle about whether or not he should leave the warm cocoon of the bed and get them another candy cane from her Snack Pack. He argued that they had already brushed their teeth, but a sincere plea from her with an affectionate “Be naughty with me, Professor!” addition was something he simply couldn’t resist.

She sighed and closed her eyes, contented and drowsy and finally no longer cold, too tired and confused to attempt to figure out what was happening, how years of ignoring what was just below the surface had nearly bubbled over. It was impossible. He wasn’t interested. He was just being Tom. Typical Tom. Caring, attentive, making you feel like you were the only person in the room. She wouldn’t think about this anymore right now. Maybe tomorrow. Or not.

Tom closed the app on her phone and noticed the time.

“Hey there, it’s 12:01.”

“Mmhhmm,” she murmured, feeling herself about to drift off. He was so familiar, so comforting, so exactly like Christmas itself should be. She wanted to enjoy this moment before she went back to being the little kid and he the older…the older what?

“Happy Birthday,” he said and dipped his head to kiss her forehead, his breath sweet from the earlier candy cane.

She turned upwards toward him without opening her eyes to give him a peck on the cheek, almost without knowing what she was doing in her sleepy state, but she miscalculated and missed his cheek, her mouth landing on his.

He didn’t jerk back in shock. Or horror.

It’s now or never, she thought, suddenly wide awake and ready to throw caution out the window that was probably frozen shut by now.

Ten seconds later, ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure which, he pulled back breathlessly and she opened her eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked in bewilderment, in surprise, but not in accusation.

“I’m kissing you, do you mind?” she responded, quickly pulling off her mittens and his beanie so she could sink her fingers into his curls.

“I, uhm…”

“Have no fear for your virtue, Thomas,” she teased in a low voice, tugging on a fistful of those ginger locks and causing a sharp gasp from him that thrilled her and gave her courage. “We are wrapped up like a couple of stuffed sausages in this icebox and there is a foot of clothing between us.”

His gaze narrowed and focused on her lips.

Another kiss, sweet and shy, but sure.

“I thought we weren’t secretly pining for each other,” he quoted her words back to her.

“I lied,” Astrid admitted while placing a string of kisses down his nose and nipping the tip.

The gasp changed to a growl, his grip on her upper arms tightening.

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little girls who lie,” using her words against her, again.

She kissed him, again. Longer, lingering.

They were side by side now, the blankets becoming tangled.

“Did you lie?” she whispered, not knowing what to do next if he denied it, but also feeling like she couldn’t let another minute pass without settling the matter.

He propped himself up on an elbow and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t recall either confirming or denying your assertion at the time,” wanting to tease her in return.

“But,” he rushed to continue upon seeing her immediately crestfallen, “I will make it absolutely clear now,” each word followed by a brush of his lips across her jaw and down her neck, “that you,” lifting his head to smile at her, “are the one I desire.”

Tears of happiness welled up and slipped down her cheeks.

“Happy Christmas, my starshine,” he whispered against her lips.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fan fiction #tom hiddleston fanfiction #christmas story #christmas fanfiction #the haven of fiction

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iheartsunset · 2 years

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Papa Louie Ivy HCs

(The long awaited queen is here!) @maznanangy please witness my madness

-Ivy Mavourneen masquerades herself as a 44 year old travel agent and Travel Trout manager living a picturesque life in Calypso Island after dealing with her turbulent home life in Tacodale. In reality, she is an eldritch abomination named “The Filemondraalas”, a creature that feeds off of a human’s energy, memories, or romantic feelings to survive. After leaving a string of victims (and half demon children) in her wake, Ivy has sworn off of long term relationships and flings. Now, she’s trying to live peacefully in her pristine, white condo, but demons from the past in the form of CJ Friskins, Hacky Zak, Sweetheart, and Crystal and a present-time pest named Emery threaten the life she has built.

-She was originally conjured by Crystal 30 years ago, when Crystal’s 14 year old neice, Ivy, went missing. After a series of spells, “Ivy” came home to her parents in Tacodale, but everyone could tell that there was something…off about her. This change in behavior caused a rift between her parents and everyone around her, made worse when she found Crystal’s notes about the conjuring. Now, Ivy lives far away from her parents and refuses to take Crystal’s calls. She wishes to make up with her parents someday (not knowing that they feel the same), but she prefers to leave it all behind.

-Ivy is quiet, dutiful, and a workaholic. Most days, she doesn’t mind working hours of overtime, double shifts, or covering for her coworkers. She even brings her coworkers lunch, decorates their desks for their birthdays, and organizes all the company’s events. As a result, she’s widely popular with her coworkers as well as the Calypso Island locals. She’s even one of the replacement “workers” that Papa employs when Penny or Alberto are busy with soccer matches and exams. However, despite this kindness, she refrains from any longstanding relationships and she completely shuts down around…certain people. When her manager, Emery, tries to catch her in any lies, Ivy uses her quick wit to shut her up. If anyone mentions Hacky Zak, Princess, and CJ Friskins’ origins, they soon find themselves panicked and unable to breathe, with Ivy’s cold, dead eyes the only thing they can remember once they awaken.

-She met Duke Gotcha, Hacky Zak’s father, when they were both attending Truffleton University. After their breakup, she fell in love with CJ Friskins’ now dead father, Van Oncilla, once she started a summer internship in Oilseed Springs (ironically, a place that’s rumored to be a host ground for various demons and ghosts). Finally, she helped Pinch Hitwell’s coach plan their accommodations and activities for an away game in Calypso Island, where the two had a brief fling. All 3 of her kids are half demons that share her abilities, but she prays to every divine figure imaginable that they don’t follow in her footsteps (CJ Friskins has already followed in her footsteps, so take that, Ivy). When she and her exes or her kids would see each other in public, it’d be an awkward encounter. But most times, she has to run to get away from CJ, who insists on all of them getting along like a family.

-Nevada and Utah don’t like her because they think that she’s best friends with Emery. She isn’t, but since Emery keeps stalking her and trying to uncover her secret, the girls can’t tell. Still, they receive mysterious desserts on their birthdays and holidays from an unknown sender. It absolutely kills Ivy’s kitchen to make such elaborate sweets, but seeing the small smiles on her neighbors’ faces is what gives her joy. Then, Emery knocks on her door and demands to spend the holiday with her, and Ivy loses all of the holiday spirit.

-Every time Ivy says “pecan”, she pronounces it differently. This isn’t the case with other words, just with “pecan”. Speaking of pecans, she always has 3 full jars of them in her house. Not only that, but she has at least two pints of butter pecan ice cream and a container of pecan sandies.

-She styles her hair in its iconic beehive style because of her obsession with movies from the 50s and 60s. This is also the source of her various polka dot dresses and poodle skirts. She can be seen at thrift stores and yard sales all over Flipline trying to get vintage clothes.

-Her friendship with Emery is one sided, but she has a few good friends in Okalani, Kahuna, Penny, Alberto, Kingsley, Cletus, Cecilia, and Claire. She refuses to drain their energy or use her powers on them. She enjoys watching movies with them or hanging out on the beach. Kingsley has shown interest in her, but Ivy doesn’t want to let the past repeat itself.

-She is an original cast member of one of Allan’s original plays, “Mango Morris’ Bike Ride”. She plays Tangerine “Tangjie” Hendrix, a spunky gas station owner that the roustabout main character meets in the second act. She also played Principal McGee in his Grease Revival. Finally, she made a cameo and worked as a travel agent for Kaleb’s film, “Tale of the Rose Maiden”. That last film is the only role she regrets because the film was a horrific gore fest that traumatized practically anybody who watched it.

-She loves the Cluckeria the most out of all the restaurants because when she sits in the booth to eat, she has a clear view of the back kitchen and all of its chaos. Olivia and Wylan B are always fighting, having a choreographed song and dance number, or having a strobing dance party to Caramelldansen. The secret booze that Olivia serves is an added bonus, especially when Allan got so plastered, he duct taped Wylan B to the wall.

-CJ Friskins knocks on her door at least twice a month. She opens it, sees who it is, and then slams the door in his face. Crystal knocks on her door thrice a month, and the same cycle happens. Pinch Hitwell keeps a close eye on Sweetheart, leading to them never meeting, but recently, Hacky Zak has started knocking on her door in a panic begging for help. She slams the door in his face, too. She doesn’t hate her children and aunt, but she doesn’t want to be a corrupting force for any of them.

-James once pranked her in the Cupcakeria by giving her a cupcake with half a foot of icing on it. Then, the icing fell off the cupcake as he was walking out with it and he slipped on it, resulting in a comical fall complete with him giving a high pitched yell. Willow then tripped over him somehow when she was running out with the first aid kit. The custom worker just stood there like a robot and went back to the kitchen. Both Willow and James then popped up like nothing happened and gave Ivy the shitty cupcakes. It was quite a spectacle.

-I’ve ruined Ivy with my hcs, but I still live this queen with all my heart

#papa louie #flipline studios #flipline #my hcs #papa louie ivy #Ivy is an eldritch abomination #ivy is hacky zak and cj’s mom #ivy loves pecans too much #what have I done and unleashed

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hslllot · 3 years

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Part I. Draft Day

fic masterlist | rated: m, mature | word count: 4.6k content/warning: hockey harry, nosey family members, a very brief mention of anxiety, overzealous hockey stans.

DRAFT REPORT: The 411 on Harry Styles by John Michaelson for Sportsnet

There’s this kid named Harry Styles. He plays hockey. Ever heard of him?

At this point there’s not much else to be said about the british Fighting Hawks’ centre, a lock to be the No.1 pick in the 2015 NHL Draft.

Dubbed a generational talent, Styles’ abilities are at a level typically only seen in video games. We all know the Edmonton Oilers will select him with the first overall pick on June 26. In years to come, hockey fans from around the globe (but especially Oilers fans) will be on the edge of their seats, watching to see if the phenom can develop into a future Hockey Hall of Fame talent the way Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux did.

Here’s what you need to know about Harry Styles:

Age on June 26: 19 Birthplace: Redditch, Worcestershire, England Current team: University of North Dakota Fighting Hawks Position: Centre Shoots: Left Height: 6-foot Weight: 190 lbs NHL Central Scouting Rank (North American): 1st

Harry Styles is a franchise-changing player in every sense of the word. He looked like a pro player even before he flew across the pond at a young age to play in the Canadian Hockey League. This has been a long time coming but the future is finally here.

He is talented beyond his years and always has been… Styles has played against older competition his entire career. Growing up in the small village of Holmes Chapel in Cheshire, England, the options for minor hockey teams were limited. Styles struggled to find a team in his age group that matched his talent level and was forced to play with older kids - and even then his talent was unmatched. Like the two other players from the UK currently playing in the NHL, Styles eventually had to leave home and play junior hockey in Canada, where he still had to play up a year against Canadian kids that grew up in a country that eats, sleeps, and breathes the game.

He should have been drafted 1st overall last year… Styles shocked the hockey world in 2013 when, instead of declaring for the 2014 NHL Draft, he announced he would be attending the University of North Dakota and lead the Fighting Hawks to an NCAA Championship. Styles, ever the media-trained athlete, dodged questions about why he chose to go to university for a year before joining the NHL, simply stating “University was always a part of the plan, no matter what happened with hockey.” The hockey community let out a collective sigh of relief when his agent, Jeffrey Azoff (whose father was, coincidentally, Wayne Gretzky’s agent), announced shortly after his championship win that after one year at UND, Styles would be declaring for the 2015 Draft.

His trophy case is full... Harry Styles has won pretty much every individual hockey award he could possibly win in his career so far. During his CHL career with the Vancouver Giants he won Rookie of the Year, multiple MVP awards, the award for most goals, assists, and overall points, and scholastic player of the year. During his short-lived NCAA career with UND, he won Rookie of the Year, the Hobey Baker Award as the top men’s hockey player, and was named to the Academic All-American team. Unfortunately, Great Britain’s ice hockey team will not be qualifying for the Olympics or the World Championships any time soon, so unless Styles applies for Canadian citizenship, international trophies and medals will be difficult to come by. Regardless, I have a feeling that there will be many Stanley Cups in his future.

He really hates underperforming… The kid puts a lot of pressure on himself. As we have seen with many successful athletes, an insatiable inner drive to compete can lead to greatness. Styles has that drive to be great and can be his own worst critic. “When I was growing up, my mum was worried about me because I was a bit of a perfectionist.” Styles told The Hockey News back in December. “When I had a bad game, I would get so upset about it. It’s just how I am and how I think every athlete should be. Good is never enough. It’s important to always keep learning and growing to better yourself.”

He is excited to play for the Oilers… Not that he would have anything bad to say about any of the 30 NHL teams, but the Oilers do hold a special place in Styles’ heart. “It’s a great hockey town with fans that are super passionate about the game.” He told The Hockey News. “They’ve been on a bit of a slide the last couple years but the team has a great history. Not many people watch the NHL where I’m from, but my dad was always interested in it and that’s how I got into the game. He was an Oilers fan during their dynasty years with Gretzky and Messier… So if they do end up drafting me first overall, I’ll feel honored to be a part of the team, and it’ll be a nice tribute to my dad.”

Be sure to catch our live 2015 NHL Draft coverage on June 26 starting at 5pm EST/2pm PT only on Sportsnet.

“With the first overall pick in the 2015 NHL Entry Draft the Edmonton Oilers are proud to select, from Holmes Chapel in England, Harry Styles.”

The room erupted in loud cheers and applause as the Edmonton Oilers drafted the National Hockey League’s newest and most sought after commodity.

Y/N’s closest friends and extended family roamed around her parents’ living room, congratulating one another with hugs and handshakes like one of their own family members was just drafted. That wasn’t the case though, they were all just deeply invested in the hockey team and the boy from England that was meant to turn things around after so many years of losing. They were so invested, in fact, that the family organized a gathering similar to something you might see on a holiday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas.

While it was not a normal holiday, for Y/N’s family it was just as significant. It was Draft Day. And every hockey fan in North America wanted Harry Styles to play for their team.

“That’s quite the suit, isn’t it?” Her uncle Will pointed to the television where the young man is dressed in an ornate red floral suit and black dress shirt. The suit was flashier than what most hockey players would wear, but it’s clear that Harry Styles is not like most hockey players. The camera panned to him as he stood up from his seat and hugged the two brunette women sitting next to him. He stuck out like a sore thumb among a sea of other young hockey players all dressed in variations of black and grey as they patiently waited to be drafted from the stands of the BB&T Centre in Florida. It was clear to Y/N that, much like his hockey skills, Harry Styles’ fashion sense was superior compared to his peers.

There was an air of excitement in the room as the draft party, all clad in blue and orange jerseys, watched the generational talent walk down the stairs of the arena and make his way to the stage. They collectively held their breath, the room becoming silent, when he arrived at the stage where both the owner and general manager of the team were waiting to greet him. Harry shook their hands before they handed him his own blue and orange jersey. As he slipped the jersey over his head and posed for a photograph with the executives, the silence in the room broke and excited conversations and speculations for the upcoming season continued. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a stir in her belly and a sense of anticipation for what the upcoming hockey season would bring.

Her thoughts lingered on the man on the screen, wondering what it might be like to meet him, when her brother pulled her out of her reverie. “Can you believe you’ll be working with the Harry Styles?”

No - she couldn’t quite believe it.

In fact, everything happening in her life right now seemed a bit too good to be true.

Set to start her third year of university in September and having to complete mandatory practicum hours in order to graduate the following year, she somehow managed to secure a placement with her favourite hockey team. The Oilers were only taking three students from the university program and everyone in the program wanted one of those spots.

The application process was incredibly stressful for Y/N. One telephone interview, one in-person interview, and a practical session where she had to demonstrate her athletic therapy skills to the team’s head trainer. She did well with the phone interview, given that they weren’t able to see her. She was able to look down at the talking points she wrote in her notebook and pause to take a couple deep breaths without making it obvious that she was reeling on the inside. Her anxiety got the best of her during the in-person interview though, freezing up when they asked simple questions like “why do you want to work for the team?” and “what experience do you have working with sport teams?”

She left the interview feeling embarrassed, but instead of taking the time to wallow and feel sorry for herself, she went home and spent hours upon hours taping her brothers’ ankles in preparation for the practical session the following day. There was no way she was going to let the opportunity fall through the cracks. Her dream of working for the Oilers was the whole reason she decided to go to school for athletic therapy in the first place. She was never any good at playing hockey but she knew in her heart that, someday, she would work for the team she loved so much. At the end of it all, she reckons her taping skills saved her, so she took her brother out to his favourite restaurant to thank him for letting her use his ankles for practice.

Fast forward a few months and she’s now stood in her parents living room thinking about how in three months she could be taping Harry Styles’ ankles.

At the time of her application, no one knew the Oilers would be picking first in the draft. The aura around the team was a bit negative at the time (because of all the losing) and there were rumours circulating the city that some of the star players were rude to the support staff and liked to party a little too hard at The Ranch (which contributed to said losing).

When she first decided to apply for the position her father warned her, “there’s a saying that you should never meet your heroes. What if they’re all a bunch of assholes and you end up hating the team you’ve loved your whole life?”

Y/N ignored her father’s warning but silently hoped that others would feel that way, narrowing down the applicant pool. However, the rumours circulating the team had no effect on the amount of students applying for the job. The fans were loyal in Edmonton (a city not known by many around the world unless you follow hockey or are compelled to visit North America’s largest shopping mall) and although the team was losing, every kid studying athletic therapy wanted a shot with their favourite team. Y/N knew of at least fifteen students that she beat out for the position.

Now, it’s late June and there is a general hype surrounding the team, as if Harry was about to come in and shine a light on the Decade of Darkness (a term Oilers fans use to characterize the recent years in which their favourite team hadn’t made the playoffs). That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person, but Y/N supposed that he’s been dealing with this kind of pressure since he was sixteen, maybe even younger.

Everyone at her family’s draft party was, yet again, watching the television intently while Harry gave his first interview as an official member of the Edmonton Oilers hockey team. While Y/N normally loved watching these types of interviews, she was a bit zoned out- mesmerized by the look of him. The suit, the wavy chestnut hair, the dimple in his left cheek, the accent. The accent. She had never really been that attracted to hockey players, which many people found hard to believe given that she’s such a fan of the sport. All of the guys from her high school who played minor hockey were rotten and thought they were better than everyone else. She did have favourite players in the NHL, players that she loved and admired, but they were her favourites because she loves how they play the game, not because she wants to fuck them.

There was something different about Harry Styles though. Not necessarily that she wanted to fuck him (especially since she recently signed an employment contract that would forbid it), but she was certainly feeling intrigued by him. He doesn’t look like the boys she went to high school with. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s British, or that he opted for a suit that set him apart from the rest of them, or maybe it was the duality of the way he held himself with unshakeable confidence in his floral suit, his gaze set intensely on the person interviewing him, posture strong and dominant, while simultaneously speaking so softly, his words laced with kindness and gratitude.

“When do you start working with the team, Y/N?” Her uncle Will asked from across the room, prompting everyone to look in her direction waiting for her response.

The news that Y/N would be working for the Oilers this season shook the family. As soon as her dad shared the news with his brother, she started receiving messages expressing congratulations from her many aunts, uncles, and cousins, shortly followed by messages asking if she would be getting free tickets to games.

“Um, mid-September, for training camp.”

“You get to meet Harry Styles?” her 9 year old cousin, Billy, asked.

“I do. I will be one of the team’s trainers.” The young boy held a look of wonder on his face, as if realizing for the first time that that his oldest cousin was actually kind of cool.

“Do you think he’s single?” Her aunt Maria asked with a smirk on her face, turning to the television to look at Harry Styles. Aunt Maria doesn’t care much for hockey but she never failed to mention which players she believed to be handsome. She was also the nosey type of aunt that liked to inquire about Y/N’s dating life. “Maybe you two will hit it off.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at her aunt, waving off her comment. But before she could retort, her father chimed in. “Ha! Yea, right! That’s not going to happen. She’s not allowed to date anyone on the team, it’s the rules. Plus, Y/N knows better than to get involved with any of these guys.”

Her father was right. It is the rules. Y/N thought back to when she went into the Oilers headquarters back in April to sign her employment contract. She asked a lot of questions, making sure she understood everything about the document she was signing.

“Personal relationships? Even friendships are forbidden?” she asked the head trainer, TJ, for clarification.

“It depends. You can be friendly, sure, but I would avoid spending time with the players outside of training and game times. Could be seen as unprofessional.”

Y/N understood why such rules were in place, and she had no issue with it at the time. A woman securing a position on a professional sports team was rare, let alone a woman securing a position with a professional men’s team. She knew when she chose this career path that it would always be an uphill battle and that she’d have to work harder and be more strategic than the men in her field. She wanted- no, needed to excel and prove that she could be a talented athletic therapist and a valuable member of the team, so she had no intention whatsoever of messing that up with any type of personal relationships. She also understood the power dynamic between the professional athletes and the support staff, the different ways in which power can be abused, and how personal relationships could complicate things. It all made sense to her. Plus, she was happy enough with just becoming friends with the other trainers and she probably wouldn’t have a lot of free time, anyways, balancing her practicum and her school work.

Today, however, she couldn’t help the very slight pull on her heartstrings at the thought of not getting to know Harry Styles on a more personal level.

As if he’d even be interested in the first place.

In a hotel restaurant in Sunrise, Florida, a few hours after the draft, Harry Styles sat with his mother Anne, sister Gemma, and agent Jeff, celebrating his newly drafted status over a bottle of champagne. He knew he should be feeling elated, like it was the best day of his life, but all he felt was exhausted. The conversation at the table happened around him while he sat in his own head, unable to think about anything but what it might feel like to be tucked into his bed in his childhood bedroom in Holmes Chapel.

The weeks leading up to the draft were an absolute circus filled with interviews and talking to the media nearly every day (he hates talking to the media), shooting promo for all of his endorsements (he’s thankful for the money they give him but he knows he is an excruciatingly terrible actor), and flying around North America to visit all of the potential cities where he might be drafted (it was a pointless tour because everyone knew where he was going to end up).

He had only tonight to celebrate with his family before it was all set to start again. Him and Jeff will fly off to Edmonton tomorrow morning for a week to speak to the media there, meet the teammate he’ll be living with, and do a surprise skating session with some kids at a summer camp. Meanwhile, his mum and sister will fly back to England.

“Any idea where you’ll live then?” Anne asked her son, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the conversation.

“Hm?” He hadn’t a clue what his mum just asked him but he’d hate to admit that rather than listening to anything the three of them had been talking about for the last hour he’d been thinking about how he’d rather be sleeping “Sorry, I think the champagne’s got to me a bit.”

“The team’s got him living with one of his older teammates and his family.” Jeff stepped in, knowing Harry wasn’t fully paying attention. “They do this with the young guys to get them used to living on their own. Teach ‘em how to cook, do laundry, and keep ‘em in line. He won’t be partying every night and bringing girls back to his place if he lives with the guy’s wife and kids.”

“Oh please,” Gemma chimed in. “Not like any of that would be an issue for Harry. He’s been away from home for years. And he’s hardly got time for partying and dating.”

Harry shot Jeff a look warning him to keep his mouth shut. When Harry found out about the living arrangements the team had planned for him, he was less than pleased. After all, he’d just spent the last year living in a dorm room at the University of North Dakota where he had complete freedom. Gemma was right, he didn’t have much time for partying and dating. But he liked having his own space, and he really liked being able to invite someone over after a game, either to celebrate a win or relieve some stress after a loss.

“You never know, some of these young guys get their first big pay cheque and a taste of the big leagues and it can go off the rails pretty fast.”

“I like to think I raised my baby to know better than to get caught up in a pay cheque.” Anne placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder and he quickly reciprocated, reaching up to place his hand over hers.

Not liking where this conversation was going, Harry finally cut in. “You did. And Jeffrey, you know I’m not that kinda guy. Either way, none of this matters if I don’t make it past training camp. For all we know I could be going back to the juniors for the season.”

“Doesn’t matter who you are or what kinda guy you are, H, it’s just what the team does. It’s tradition. And c’mon, I know you like to keep your expectations in check, but the team’s made it pretty clear that you’re gonna be in the starting lineup come October.”

Jeff was right. The team had all but promised that he would make it past training camp. The question wasn’t if he’d make it past training camp, but in what shape he’d be in and how long it would take for the team to start winning games.

“The coach said I’m small and need to bulk up, especially since I’ll be playing against older, more experienced men.” Harry could feel the weight of his mum’s gaze as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not quite where I need to be yet, but I’ll get there.”

Harry and his family were stood in the hotel lobby with Jeff, convening on plans for the morning when he felt a small tug on the hem of his red floral suit jacket. He spun himself around, ready to confront the individual bold enough to touch him without his consent, to find a young girl, no older than five years old staring up at him.

Harry looked at her, a bit taken aback and undoubtedly with a bit of confusion written on his face, and then spotted, a few feet behind her, two individuals who were most likely her parents. Suddenly, he realized that he may have actually had a few too many glasses of champagne and immediately tried to compose himself, standing straighter and trying to will away the exhaustion in his eyes and the haziness in his mind.

“Oh - um, hello there.” He cleared his throat before using the soft voice he reserves for adorable, small children like the one stood before him.

“Are you Harry Styles?” She asked with wide eyes and a small, timid voice.

“I am, sweetheart. What can I do for you?”

A bright smile etched itself onto her face. But instead of answering him, she looked back at the adults standing behind her, motioning for them to help as she was too shy to proceed on her own. The man, who Harry presumed was her father, moved to stand beside her.

“This is Millie. She wanted to say hi to you because she’s a big fan of yours.”

Harry lowered himself in front of the young girl so that he was crouched down and eye-level with her. “Hi Millie, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.” He reached out to shake the young girl’s small hand. “Have you got anything that I could sign? Or I suppose we could take a photo if you’d like?”

The young girl removed her hand from Harry’s, nodding her head eagerly. She began to unzip her jacket, revealing a bright orange Edmonton Oilers jersey underneath.

“Oh? Look at that! You’re an Oilers fan. In Florida?” Harry lifted himself from his crouched position and directed his question toward at the girl’s father.

“Yes, well, we actually travelled here from Edmonton, to watch the draft in person.” Harry raised his eyebrows in shock. He knew that the flight from Edmonton to Florida is long, and likely expensive. The tickets to attend the draft live probably weren’t cheap either. “It’s not every day your favourite team picks first overall! Let alone gets to pick a player like you. We were so excited so we decided to make a family trip out of it. Turn around, Millie, show him the back!” Millie’s father handed Harry a sharpie as Millie turned her back to Harry.

It was at that moment that Harry started to understand the weight of the moment. The name ‘STYLES’ was embroidered on the back of Millie’s Oilers jersey, above the number ‘15’ indicating his draft year. He was speechless. This was, after all, the first time he was seeing his name in the classic Oilers’ orange and blue colours adorned on a fan’s back.

The feeling was different from earlier at the draft when they presented him with his own jersey. This one belonged to someone else. Someone bought his jersey before he’d even ever played a single minute for the team. They flew across the continent, from Edmonton to Florida, just to watch him get drafted. It was a lot for his hazy, champagne-diluted mind to take in.

Realizing he’d just been standing there staring at the jersey, he cleared his throat once again in hopes that he could hide the unknown thoughts and emotions he was trying to reconcile. “Wow, um, I didn’t realize you could get these already.”

Millie’s father laughed, “Man, they’ve been selling these in Edmonton since they announced we’d be picking first in the draft.” Again, the feeling was overwhelming for Harry.

We’d be picking first in the draft.

To this family, and probably others in Edmonton, the Oilers were “we”. They win together, they lose together. If the Oilers pick first in the draft, they all pick first. It was their team. And now he, Harry, was a part of that “we”.

Harry reached down to sign the jersey on Millie’s back, quickly scribbling his autograph on the left side. As he straightened himself, he felt Anne move to stand beside him, apparently having sensed her son’s unease and unconscious need for his mother to join him in this moment.

“Hi, I’m Harry’s mum, Anne. Would you like me to take a picture of the four of you?” Millie’s father eagerly handed his phone to Anne and waved his wife over to be in the photo. Several photos of Harry and the family were taken, followed by a few of just Harry and Millie.

“Would you mind if I took one of Harry and Millie on my phone as well?” Anne asked as she snapped the last photo. “This is the first time Harry’s met a fan wearing his name on an Oilers jersey. We’d like to remember it.”

The family was more than happy to oblige so Anne took a few more photos on her phone, including one where Millie’s back was to the camera and the ‘STYLES’ name in full view.

It was so like his mum to understand how special the moment was and to come in and save him. He couldn’t quite articulate what he was feeling in that moment, as understanding emotions and sentimentality were not his greatest strengths, and he most definitely never would have asked to take a photo to keep for himself had she not done it.

The obvious feelings were joy and gratitude. Every day he was thankful to play the game he loved, to be successful, and to have fans that loved and supported him. It didn’t always make sense that complete strangers paid him so much attention just for playing a game, but he accepted it and always tried to show those strangers kindness in return. However, there was another feeling lingering, one that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Looking at his mum, he knew that she knew what it was. She always knew. And certainly she would make him talk about it later.

As they separated from the family and walked toward the hotel elevators, where Gemma and Jeff were waiting, Anne grabbed onto her son’s arm, holding him close as they walked side by side.

“Do you see that they love you already, my darling?” She asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at his mum, unsure of what she was going on about. “I know you. I know that you care what people think and that you are scared to disappoint them. You just need to step out on the ice and be yourself. Just be Harry. They already love you and this is only just the beginning.”

WOW! OK. I know it’s a bit of a slow start, but I wanted this chapter to be more of an introduction to harry and the mc and to the fan culture that harry is about to experience!! I’ve already started on the next part so that should be up before Christmas! If you’ve made it this far, all I can say is that I love you and appreciate you. If you liked it, please let me know. I debated not posting this so many times (and I might even regret it later) so feedback will certainly ease my troubled mind!! I ALWAYS LOVE YOU, BUT ESPECIALLY TODAY!! xx Shan.

Harry’s Draft Day Look

talk to me about generational | fic masterlist

#wow i'm so nervous to post this #generational #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #hockey harry styles #athlete harry styles

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

Gift of Magi; Brian May x reader

*Author’s note*

Here is yet another little special Christmas fic I have for you all. If you loved my Joe Mazzello one then you guys are REALLY GONNA ROT YOUR TEETH WITH THIS SWEET FIC. As you can see by the title, this is inspired by the beloved Christmas tale of the same name, for a year now since getting into the Queen/BoRhap fandom I’ve wanted to do this fic with one of the members of Queen but I didn’t know which one to do it with. Finally after doing some thinking and planning and realizing I hadn’t really done a solo Brian May fic in a long time, I decided our beloved space poodle DESERVED this story. Enjoy my lovelies :)

Warnings: TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Brian’s sickness (takes place in 1974 so that’s when he had his hepatitis scare along with some other things I had read up that happened during that time), Roger’s chaotic behavior, Freddie being a loving fairy godmother (you’ll see soon enough), and fluff, fluff, and you guessed it EVEN MORE FLUFF!!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

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There it was. The perfect gift for Brian. The Refractor telescope, 30 power. Don’t ask me what I just said cause I wouldn’t be able to tell you what all it does. All I can say is that Bri’s been eyeing this bad boy for years and with an empty tripod he’s had since graduating University, he needed something to look up at the stars with (one of his classes he had to rent out a telescope and then return it to the professor once the semester ended).

Yeah dating an astrophysicist Rockstar is one thing, but shopping for said astrophysicist rockstar is another, especially around the holidays and birthdays. Sure he says all he needs is my love but I want to prove myself to him. Plus I want to give him something special after the major health scare he had when he and Queen were touring with Mott the Hoople at the beginning of the year.

It was horrifying but I was there to help Brian recover from his Hepatitis scare and assure him that the band wasn’t going to replace him (bless his little heart, he was so sure the band was gonna abandon him) but they didn’t and they were there whenever they could, also they would send in some demos for me to play for Brian so that he could still have a say in the songs for their Sheer Heart attack album.

Now that Queen was slowly now getting recognized for their talents after “Killer Queen” made the top 10 in the charts, scratch that the entire album was going up the charts I wanted Brian to have something special to go with his tripod.

I took out my wallet and counted up my tips that I had been saving all year to buy this telescope. I was still a few pounds short but after today I should finally have enough to buy the telescope for my guy.

“Don’t you worry Bri. You’ll see the stars once again.” I put the money back in the side pouch of my purse and looked down at my watch. “Shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I exclaimed and quickly raced down the block towards the tree shop. I had taken a second job at the Christmas tree shop to help with getting better tips for Brian’s telescope.

When I finally arrived, I walked into the open tree lot and punched in my timecard before the loud exclamation of my boss’ voice cried out.

“YOU’RE LATE!!”

“I’m sorry sir, I was……”

“Doesn’t matter! Now get out there and get those papers organized we’ve got customers out there who need trees!” I nodded and quickly went over to my desk and took out some of the reserved papers that some people filled out to confirm their tree orders.

The day was long and cold but every little penny counted. I filled out the paperwork, helped the customer’s find their tree and even bypassed the boys at the shop and helped put the trees on top of the customer’s cars.

“Welcome to Mad Pete’s Tree shop how may I help you?”

“Yeah see my mate here is looking for a pretty cute tree, around (y/h), (h/c) and has two of the star glistening eyes he’s ever seen.” I looked up and low and behold there stood Roger and Brian.

“Really Rog? Did you have to go and say all that?”

“Hey bout time you got a taste of your own medicine of what we’ve had to deal with everytime you miss (n/n)!” I shook my head softly chuckling.

“So you guys really here to shop for a tree or are you trying to get me into trouble with the boss again?”

“Hey Fred and I did not cause that fire!” Roger defended himself.

“You guys were the only ones smoking at the time, you’re lucky I didn’t get fired from that little stunt.” I sassed him. Brian gave him a disapproving look while Roger tried to brush it off, but as soon as he saw my scowl, he submitted and put on that puppy dog face of his.

“Sorry lovie. Can you forgive me?” I went up to him and embraced him.

“Of course I do yah big puppy dog.” I ruffled his long golden locks which made him exclaim as he tried to fix his hair back to normal.

“Oi! Do you know how long it takes for me to get my hair like this? It’s called a miracle darling.”

“Now you didn’t answer my question, what are you guys really doing here?”

“We figured we’d go and get us a tree since we couldn’t get one last year. Since we got some money now instead of hardly anything.” Brian said.

“Ahh I see. Well let’s see what I can help you with. Follow me gentlemen.” I guided them towards the back and there were some of the smaller trees that hadn’t been reserved and that could be affordable for Bri and Rog. “I know it’s not much but I know you guys can afford these trees. Pete’s been trying to skyrocket the prices, especially for his prized 10 footers.”

“It’s perfect love, thank you.” He kissed me softly on my lips. I slowly wrapped my arms around him when I felt him take my string necklace revealing my great grandmother’s diamond encrusted locket. “You know, that locket deserves a beautiful golden chain.”

“Brian.” I took his hand in mine and held it against my cheek. “You know you don’t have to.”

“But I want to. Just imagine in, that scared locket chained up to a beautiful chain around that pretty neck of yours.” I blushed and pressed my head against his chest.

“You flatterer. You may not know your way around the dance floor but you have a way with words. No wonder you’re an astrophysicist. Speaking of which, you still got that tripod right?”

“Yeah. I still keep it cleaned, even though I’ll never be able to afford a telescope of my own for years if I’m lucky.” Oh little does he know.

“Well you never know. Santa has his ways.”

“You know love, it’s kinda weird how you still believe in Santa Clause even at your age.” Brian said. I let out a dramatic gasp.

“How dare you! You are never told old to believe in Father Christmas. Right Rog?”

“Damn straight! Just ignore your boyfriend (n/n), he thinks he’s too clever for Christmas.” Rog said as he took me away from Brian and wrapped an arm around my neck.

“Now hold on I didn’t—” a throat cleared and that’s when I saw a middle aged couple with their two small children. The father who had a greying beard and wore some prescription circular glasses.

“Excuse me, we—we’re looking for a tree.” He said shyly.

“Oh did I hear you folks looking for a tree? Well step right over here and I’ll show you the best trees I’ve got!” Pete soon came in saying and guided the parents away from the smaller trees, right towards his prized 10ft. I glared at him and turned to the guys.

“Think you both can find a tree yourselves?”

“No worries love. Do what you’ve got to do. I’ll see you tonight though right?”

“Of course. I’ll be over at your flat by 6pm on the dot. At least I’ll be on time unlike you are, yah scatterbrain.” He gave me that disapproving scowl (you know where he tilts his head down and his brow raises up and a deep frown crosses his lips). I giggled and pecked his lips and said, “You know I love you right?”

“With those insults I’m starting to doubt it.” He mocked. I playfully swatted his arm which made him chuckle then I proceeded to follow the family to get them a more affordable tree.

After looking and looking through the very back of the lot, I had found the perfect tree that would suit the family just right. I took it around to where Pete had his 10 footers displayed.

“I really am sorry madam but the rest of my trees have been reserved, these are the only ones I’ve got. You don’t want these kids going without a tree this year do you?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“We are gonna get a tree? Aren’t we daddy?” the little girl around 5 years old said.

“But—this is all we have.” The father said as he took out what looked like one pound and threepenny pieces.

“Then that’s just enough for a down payment.” Mr. Pete said as he readied the contract. Okay that’s it.

“Ugg excuse me!” I made myself known. “I’m sorry to interrupt but uhh—I managed to find this out back. It hasn’t been reserved or anything, maybe you and your family would like this.” I walked up with the tree and set it down.

The kids all ooed and awed at it, it was just slightly bigger than the two of them were. The father shoved the contract back into Mr. Pete’s hands and he said to me joyously.

“We’ll take it! Oh thank you so much miss.”

“No problem, let me help you get this tree set up onto your car.” I took the father’s money for the tree and walked with them back to their car.

As they drove away waving and thanking me for the help, I waved goodbye back to them and wished them a Merry Christmas. I counted up my tips and felt my heart skip a beat.

“I did it. I—I actually did it! Oh it’s finally enough to get Brian that telescope!” I cheered as I jumped up and down until a shadow came over me. I stopped and slowly turned around and saw Mr. Pete seething down at me, his cigar bit between his yellow teeth.

“I HAD THEM HOOKED ONTO BUYING ONE OF MY TEN FOOTERS!!” he yelled in my face which made me slip and fall flat on my back in the snow. “And I’ve decided to take what I would’ve made out of your payment!” he snatched my bag of tips out of my hand.

“No let go of that! I need it for someone special’s Christmas gift!” I exclaimed as I tugged on the other end of it trying to take it back.

“Not. My. Problem!” he said. With one final good yank, I was once again back in the snow as Mr. Pete pocketed my tip bag. “And just for the record. YOU’RE FIRED!!” he walked away from me with my bag of tips. Not just from working at his lot but my waitressing job tips as well.

Of course I wasn’t upset about getting fired from the Christmas tree lot, I was just upset that all my hard work was now for nothing. Guess I’ll be going to Brian’s empty handed. I stood up, brushed the snow off my pants and walked away solemnly from the lot.

Thinking just how in the hell I’m gonna get Brian that telescope now. There’s no way I could come up with the money by 4 o’clock today.

*Brian’s POV*

After picking out the perfect tree from the lot, Roger and I drove down back to the flat. As we drove down the road I quickly said to Roger.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Just pull over Rog!” I snapped. He muttered angrily and pulled the car into the pawnshop parking lot and I quickly stepped out and went up to the window and saw it. The gold chain I’ve had my eyes on to give to (Y/n) to go with her locket.

“Forget it Bri, you’ll never afford it!” I heard Roger exclaim from the car. I glared down and turned towards him.

“You underestimate me Rog.”

“All I’m saying is that we barely had enough to buy this tree. Trident is really screwing us over with our payment. John’s trying his best but he can’t seem to prove it legally. Yet.” He said to me.

“I know. It’s just I want to give (Y/n) the perfect gift this year. After everything that’s happened especially with my health, I want to show her just how much she’s meant to me. Without her I—I doubt I would even be standing here right now.”

“Now don’t go getting sappy on me now mate. (N/n) is a diamond in the rough, but you know she’s never wanted any riches or fame. All she ever says she needs in the world is you. God now you got me talking sappy! I hate you both sometimes!”

“Oh what? Mr. Hard-rocker can’t take a little sweetness in his life?” I teased as I got back in the car.

“Shut up or I’ll run your arse over.” He threatened. I softly chuckled as Roger pulled away from the pawnshop.

Soon. I’ll get that gold chain soon enough. I just need to figure out a plan, but I only have 6 hours left so I need to think fast.

*My POV*

GRRRRR!!! Why can’t life be like a fairytale sometimes? I sure could use a fairy godmother right about now to give me enough money for Brian’s telescope. I sat down at a nearby park bench and fiddled with my locket.

“(Y/n)?” I perked up my head. “(Y/n) darling is that you?” I looked up and there I saw Freddie with row upon row of shopping bags.

“Freddie? Wha…..what are you doing here?”

“Doing some last minute Christmas shopping. Of course shopping for that man of yours is a nightmare! Okay a living hell! No offense.”

“None taken. He—can be difficult to shop for at times.” I said solemnly. Freddie cocked his head curiously like one of his cats and he asked me.

“You okay dear? No offense but you look like someone threw you in a dumpster and the dumpster spat you back out.”

“I could be better.” He came over and set his bags down at our feet and he said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“C’mon. You tell ol’ Freddie what happened darling? Why are you so down at this festive time of the year?”

“To put it bluntly, I got fired from Pete’s tree lot.”

“What?! Alright that’s it I am going to march straight down there and have a little chat with Mr. Pete.” I grabbed Fred’s arm and said.

“That’s not what’s bothering me though Fred. Honestly, I could care less whether or not I worked there next year or not.”

“Then what else happened that made you so sad?”

“If I tell you, will you promise not to tell Brian?” he gasped.

“Please tell me you’re pregnant.”

“What no! No! Fred that’s not it at all. You see, you know how Brian always has that empty tripod at yall’s flat?” he nodded. “Well I did some digging and found the perfect telescope that can go with his tripod. Since the start of the year I’ve been saving up all my tips just to get him that telescope. The tree lot’s really been helping my tips grow compared to my waitressing job. And today I managed to reach my goal.”

“Well that’s great so—”

“But that’s when Pete took my tip bag away. All of it.”

“What!? Why the fuck would he do something like that!?”

“Because I stopped him from selling this sweet family an expensive 10ft. tree. They knew they couldn’t afford it yet Pete was pressuring them. So I sold them a small and affordable tree and they were excited about what I showed them and took it. Pete said he was gonna take what he would’ve made off the tree out of my pay. So he took everything. My entire bag of tips that have been saved since this year.”

“That low-life…..you sure you don’t need me to go ‘speak’ to him?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore Fred. I only have 2 hours till the shop closes and no way of paying for that telescope. Now Brian will never be able to look up at the stars the way he dreams of doing.” I leaned my head against Fred’s shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me, gently rubbing my arm and pressed a soft kiss on top of my head.

“You know what I always found to be the cure for a sour face?” he asked me.

“What?”

“Trying on new clothes. C’mon let’s go down to BIBA and pick you something nice to wear for the party. My treat.”

“No, no Fred I can’t do that. Plus what about your shopping?”

“Ahhh I was done with it anyways. Now c’mon. Maybe taking your mind off of your sad morning will help you come up with a plan. And here why don’t you take this?” he reached down and grabbed one of his shopping bags. “It’s something I was planning on giving to that space man of yours, but it seems you need it more than I do.”

“Freddie I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll take it. That way you can at least not feel guilty of coming to our flat empty handed. And maybe give me a sneak peek of what to expect from you for my Christmas present.”

“In your dreams Mercury. I never spill Christmas secrets.”

“Damn it!” he pouted.

“C’mon you, I was promised a shopping trip so I expect you to deliver.”

“Darling have you met me?” he stood up and I helped him with some of his bags and the two of us walked towards BIBA.

After finally getting into a warm store, I shivered and rubbed my arms frantically trying to get some friction on them and warm myself up. Freddie and I then proceeded to try out some clothes.

Freddie was right. After awhile of trying out various types of clothing and giving Fred my personal opinion on what he could possibly wear for a future concert, I was starting to feel better. Currently I was trying on a winter hat and looking at myself in the mirror.

“Hold everything (Y/n) darling! I’ve found the perfect thing for you!” I heard Freddie exclaim all the way from the other side of the store. I buried my face under the hat as people looked towards me. Fred came racing over to me and he held up a cute red Christmas shawl with little snowflakes on it.

“Oh my god this is cute!” Fred then tied it around my neck but tied it in a fashion knot, making sure my locket was the key feature showing above my shawl.

“Figured this could go great with your great-grammy’s locket. That thing is worth millions.”

“Yeah. Pure diamond encrusted and……” I trailed off. “That’s it. THAT’S IT!! Fred what time is it?!” I asked him urgently.

“Uhh it’s uhh…..10 till 4.”

“Uggh! There’ll be no time to get there by the road. Nevermind I’ll just run. Yeah run as fast as I can to the shop and get Brian’s telescope! Thanks Fred you’re the best but you can take Brian’s gift back I think I’ve found the perfect way to get Brian that telescope!” I ripped the shawl off my neck and handed it back to Fred and raced out of BIBA and ran as fast as I could.

Now running and snow are not a good combination but I couldn’t stop now. Not even as I was slipping and sliding along the crosswalks, all that mattered to me was getting to that shop on time. I would look up towards Big Ben to see how much time I had left and time was running short.

I still had about six blocks till I got to the shop and I was down to my final 3 minutes on the clock. I soon spotted some teenager boys sledding up along some railings and bus benches. I walked up to one of them and quickly asked them if I could borrow his sled for a moment.

At first he pondered on the though till finally he agreed to let me have it. I told him where he could come collect it in the next five minutes and I proceeded to sled the rest of the way to the shop.

Now gaining some speed, I could see the shop just down the hill. I took a deep breath and proceeded to slid down the street towards the shop but as I got halfway that’s when Big Ben began to gong out the next hour. GONG……GONG…..GONG…..GONG!

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! As I got to the bottom I saw the shop starting to close up, the lights went off and soon the old shopkeeper came out and locked up. I stood up and ran towards him.

“Wait sir wait!” he turned to me. He was an elderly man roughly around his mid-60s, he wore prescription glasses and his hair was white and thinning, he also was growing out a small white beard. “I—I was wondering if you’d be willing to make a trade?” I took my great-grandmother’s locket off my rope chain. “I was hoping to trade in this locket for that telescope you have on display. The 30 power Refractor one. It’s for my guy.”

He took the locket from my hands and observed it closely. He hummed sadly and said.

“Sorry ma’am. That there is a pretty locket but it won’t do much in my shop.” He handed me back the locket and pocketed his keys. “Well, Merry Christmas.” He told as he began to walk away.

“Please sir this locket was a family heirloom. It belong to my great grandmother back in the early 1890’s. It’s diamond encrusted and pure gold you can see if for yourself.” I said walking alongside him, showing him the locket once again. He sighed and told me.

“I know love but—what I sell in my shop is stuff people actually use in their lives. And as I said before as pretty and as valuable as that locket is, no one will want it in my shop.” I stopped and looked down heartbroken. He hummed sympathetically and continued as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder “Tell you what, why not go down to the pawnshop across town and you can sell it there? Then once you got the money, come back here the day after Christmas and then we’ll discuss about that Refractor 30 power telescope.”

“But I need it by tonight. This was my last chance to get my Brian something special after the horrid year he’s had. I would give anything in the world to get him that telescope, even if it’s a precious family heirloom.”

“Anything?” he asked quizzically. “Tell me poppet what else are you planning on giving for that there telescope?” he said with his arms crossed.

“I’d give all my love if I could. As sappy as that sounds but it’s true. Brian he’s—” I looked towards the sky and could already see the first star in the sky. “He’s my shining star.” I heard the shopkeeper chuckle.

“Now that’s how you make a sale. Sure wish there were more young compassionate lovers like you and this man of yours. Reminds me of me and my wife Gertrude. God rest her soul. C’mon in come on in and we’ll discuss that trade.” I smiled and in my adrenaline of pure joy, I hugged the old man and heard him softly chuckle.

Later that night, I arrived at the boy’s flat ready for the Queen Christmas party. The boys along with Mary, Veronica, and Roger’s girlfriend Jo were all there by the time I arrived. We had a warm and delicious Christmas eve dinner and exchanged the gifts. First the guys gave out gifts to each other, then us girls proceeded to give our gifts to each other.

I had gotten Ronnie some baby clothes (yes she was a couple of months pregnant at the time and had given us the big announcement just a month ago). I gave Jo a copy of her favorite Jimi Hendrix album, and as for Mary I got her some new makeup from the latest designer line.

I had gotten some winter hats and scarves from Mary, a copy of my favorite Shakespeare play from Ronnie, and Jo got me the new Beatles album.

After most of the gifts had been exchanged, I quickly went to the back of the tree and pulled out my gift for Brian. I groaned and heaved it up.

“Jesus (n/n) what did you get him a pool table?” Roger asked as he lit up his cigarette.

“Ha-ha you’re hilarious Taylor.” I sassed sarcastically. I then turned to Brian and I said to him, “Hey Bri, why don’t you go get that tripod out from your room?” he chuckled nervously and fiddled around with his shirt collar nervously as he said.

“Actually….why don’t you open yours first? And maybe even let us see that locket of yours. I don’t think Jo’s ever seen it before.” Now I started getting nervous.

“Oh she wouldn’t be interested in that old thing. Here, why don’t we open our gifts together?”

“At least do something!” Freddie and John both slapped Roger over the head making him exclaim in pain. Brian handed me my gift, a small but beautiful wrapped box with a gorgeous red bow, while I carefully handed him my giant box.

The two of us unwrapped our gifts and opened up the tops and my eyes widened as I let out a soft gasp.

“A—a gold chain to go with my……locket.”

“Oh my god (Y/n)! You got me the Refractor 30 power telescope for my—tripod.” Wait why did he trail off at the end? I turned to him and saw that he had a sorrow-filled expression on his face.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

“Oh (Y/n) I love it. I really do, I’ve always wanted my own telescope it’s just—” he sighed heavily. “I just had to trade that old tripod to get you that gold chain.”

“What?”

“Pawnshop’s son was into space and he needed a tripod for his telescope. So I told the pawnshop owner that I had one since that one was practically collected dust instead of stars.” Oh Brian.

“And I traded my locket to get you that telescope.” Brian and everyone else softly gasped.

“Oh (Y/n), I can’t believe you would trade away a family heirloom for me.” Brian said.

“I would’ve given anything Brian. After—everything that’s happened this year. From your hepatitis scare, to the ulcer and even fear of losing your arm I—wanted to give you something special. I don’t care if it costed me an arm, leg or even my own heart. I would’ve done anything to at least see you smile that real Brian May smile I’ve come to love.”

He cupped the side of my face and brought me closer to him, our lips joining together in a soft, delicate, loving kiss. Of course Roger and Fred just had to make it embarrassing by telling Bri to give me more tongue.

“Come with me.” He silently said urgently as he guided me out to the small backyard behind their flat. “There now we got some privacy away from the pests that is Freddie and Roger. I swear those two are mentally 5 years old 24/7.”

“Well Fred is, Rog is more like 3 years old.” He snorted out a soft laugh.

“Anyways what I wanted to bring you out here to tell you is that while I appreciate what you did to get me the telescope, you didn’t have to trade your locket. I know how much it meant to you.”

“I know but like I said earlier, I would’ve given anything to see you smile again.”

“Just being by my side is enough to make me smile.” He said as he cupped each side of my face, his calloused thumbs caressed my cheeks. I smiled and he pressed his forehead against mine, our noses gently nuzzling against one another’s before he captured my lips in another kiss.

For the rest of the night, we all sang some Christmas songs, watched some Christmas films and when it got late we all decided to turn in for the night. I was in Brian’s room, the two of us cuddled up close on his bed.

“I just hope by next Christmas we’ll have ourselves a house.” He said.

“Let’s take it one step at a time my love.” I said as I tucked my hand into his unbuttoned t-shirt softly stroking his collarbone and gave the junction between his neck and shoulder a kiss. “For now I’m content to how this Christmas turned out.”

“Me too. Even though we basically recreated the gift of Magi tale.” I smiled and felt Brian kiss the top of my head which his fingers slowly stroked up and down my spine. “Happy Christmas my stardust.”

“Happy Christmas my space man.” Brian covered the two of us with his duvet and we fell into a peaceful slumber in his arms.

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