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#because he sings last christmas at two points and the first time around he goes:

steddieasitgoes · 5 months

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@steddiemas Day 11 Prompt: Pop/Alt Holiday Songs

Tags: Alcohol Consumption, Established Relationship, Santa Con, Karaoke, Steve Harrington Is A Tease

wc: 1596 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Eddie’s had his fair share of wild nights bar hopping in Seattle. Sometimes with Steve, sometimes with the Corroded Coffin boys, sometimes alone desperate to break out of the deep-seated loneness that overtakes him every few years.

But he’s never experienced anything quite like this.

After a night of endless hopping, they find themselves at a karaoke bar in the heart of Downtown Boston packed with college students and young adults all dressed in their best Santa suits like them. Miraculously, they find an empty booth in the corner and stake their claim.

Robin and Nancy collapse into each other, shedding their red coats over the worn edge as they do so. Jonathan and Argyle aren’t far behind, though Argyle stays fully in costume. (“I really think I should grow a beard, my dude,” he slurs for the hundredth time of the night as he shuffles across the cracking vinyl.) Steve goes next, sliding in next to Robin and then Eddie follows, nearly missing the seat entirely as the opening chords of Wham’s “Last Christmas” rips through the small bar from the stage across the room. A pair of best friends laugh their way through the opening words, absolutely massacring the song.

“Oh god,” Steve groans. “They’re disrespecting Wham!”

“That’s the point!” Robin giggles, moving to rest her head on his shoulder. “No one is supposed to sing good at karaoke! S’why we’re all here!”

“We are not singing karaoke!”

“You better turn that Grinch face of yours around because we absolutely are! Nance and I signed us all up weeks ago.”

“You devious lesbians,” Eddie laughs before leaning around Steve to place a slobbery kiss on Robin’s head. “I owe you so much for this one.”

“Buy us drinks and we’ll call it even!”

It’s a fair deal as far as Eddie’s concerned so he quickly gets himself back on his feet and wades through the hoards of Santas until he gets to the bar. It’s just like any other dive bar he’s been in. Sticky countertops, shelves, and shelves of liquor, charming but overworked bartenders working and flirting their asses off for tips. He knows exactly what it’s like bartending and he doesn’t miss it.

Though maybe he would have had more fun if the places he worked had events like this. At least he’d have people to make fun of beyond the sad drunks that became his regulars.

Eddie returns five minutes later with a tray of mixed drinks and shots. If he’s being totally straight with himself, he’s not sure what he ordered. They look pretty though and judging by the puckered face on Robin and Jonathan’s faces, they must be mixed well. Lightweights the both of them.

Needing the least bit of persuading, Eddie takes the stage first, serenading the crowd in a rock and roll rendition of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas” that goes off the rails given he sings it at double the speed. Argyle drags Jonathan up next, the two stumbling their way through “Feliz Navidad” — Argyle carries the Spanish sections while Jonathan squints at the teleprompter during the English bits. It’s a hilarious disaster that has the entire bar cheering them on.

Nancy and Robin’s rendition of “Last Christmas” gets everyone going and suddenly a complimentary round of drinks ends up on their table as they belt out the final line. A few groups of strangers take the stage next. They’re decent but nowhere as entertaining as any of them. They’re only half watching at this point, too engrossed with their own conversations and carry-over argument over who the best-dressed Santa of the bunch is.

(“Obviously s’not Eddie,” Nancy giggles.

“You wound me, Wheeler,” Eddie gasps, clutching a hand over his jet-black fur coat. “Gothic Santa would have killed it in Seattle. You Bostonians don’t understand culture.”)

Another round of drinks materializes on their table and then they’re back in the karaoke rotation again. By the time Steve’s name is being called by the poor bar employee tasked with keeping things running smoothly, he’s the perfect amount of drunk that he doesn’t protest Eddie’s careful tugging. He doesn’t go willingly, but he’s sporting that crooked smile of his that tells Eddie he’s not exactly mad about the events transpiring in front of him.

“See sweetheart,” Eddie croons, leaning into his space as he passes him the mic. “Just needed a little liquid courage. Now show the world how great of a singer you are.”

“S’gonna be a disaster.”

“Oh, definitely,” Eddie smiles, pecking his cheek. “But that’s the point!”

Eddie doesn’t give Steve time to reach out and instead retreats to the booth. He slides in next to a giddy Robin as they both wait with bated breath for Steve to choose a song. A minute or two of silence passes before Steve looks up from the machine. The old stage lights cast a beautiful shadow over him. Eyes sparkling in the harsh fluorescents. Usually, Steve would be complaining about the godawful lights, but right now he’s winking at Eddie and practically skipping to the center of the stage.

Another moment of silence passes before the bright cheery guitar of Britney Spears’s My Only Wish (This Year) floods the place. Steve starts rocking his hips to the beat, hand gripping the microphone tight enough that Eddie can see his knuckles turning white. The nerves evaporate from his body the minute he starts singing, though. If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d think Steve has been possessed by the spirit of the Princess of Pop.

“I signed my letter that I sealed with a kiss,” Steve sings, throwing a hand over his lips before blowing a sloppy kiss in Eddie’s direction. And then he’s moving again, skipping around the stage as his Santa coat glides around behind him.

By the time the second verse hits, Steve’s shimming out of the coat, putting on a show for the group of girls sitting at the front tables. Eddie wants to scream. Wants to stalk over to the girls and tell them to back the fuck up, but he’s held steady in his seat by Jonathan’s comforting hand and Steve’s unwavering gaze as he locks eyes with him across the hoards of people.

“I want my baby, baby,” Steve scream sings, already losing the beat as his hips continue to sway.

“Someone to love me, someone to hold!” Eddie shouts along with him as the rest of the table eggs him on.

It’s chaos after that. Steve throws his Santa hat into the crowd, Robin’s on the table filming the entire thing on her ancient iPhone. “That’s your man, Munson,” Nancy wheezes, nudging Eddie’s ribs every time Steve turns to shake his ass for the excited crowd.

Eddie’s absolutely captivated by the performance. When he first met Steve years ago he was uptight and reserved. It didn’t matter how much effort Eddie put into his conversations, it was like trying to pry open a bank vault. But when he finally cracked the code, Steve sparkled in a way Eddie couldn’t even dream about.

Steve’s better now, more open with himself and who is he. Fully embraces the fun that life has to offer, but Eddie can tell there are moments when he retreats to that small boy who never got the attention he deserved. It’s what makes moments like this so much more amazing. Seeing Steve shine and live his best life, free from judgment is the best gift Eddie’s ever received. And he’s not about to miss a damn minute of it.

When the bridge drops, Steve prances around the stage like one of Santa’s reindeer. He’s sporting a reindeer headband that someone threw up there and there are a handful of dollar bills crumpled up on the edge of the stage. Somehow it’s gone from a karaoke show to some erotic dance number as Steve shimmies around and tries to keep up with the words.

Eddie’s never been more in love in his entire life.

“Santa, that’s my only wish this year,” Steve sings the final line, holding out the note like he’s the Princess of Pop herself instead of some high school teacher.

A standing ovation follows, but Eddie doesn’t have time to bask in the affection being thrown at his boyfriend because he’s moving through the crowd faster than he’s ever moved in his life. When he gets to the end of the stage, Steve practically dives into his arms. He wraps himself around Eddie, legs around his waist, arms around his neck and smiles that perfect, beautiful smile of his. His cheeks are flushed pink from the performance and the amount of liquor coursing through his veins and his eyes are big and bright.

“What’d think? S’Santa gonna grant my wish?” Steve asks.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie coos, ducking his head to get his lips on Steve’s. “You know I’ll be waiting for you under the tree in a big red bow.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #dani writes

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motleymunson27 · 10 months

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Surprise.

Sum: Chris popped the question and proposed to you on stage in front of hundreds of people.

Chris Motionless X Reader.

Content Warning: ALL THE FLUFF THERE IS!!

~~~~~~

The show was just about done, MIW was just finishing their show in Birmingham then would be heading to St Augustine two days later to continue the Trinity Of Terror tour.

It’s been both an amazing time but also kind of rough being on the road since the middle of March. The tour was set to end a bit before Christmas then the guys would be free until their next tour.

Of course, dating the lead singer of one of the four bands, and working as their makeup artist with the production team alongside your sister, Shevy—who was Ice Nine Kills’ makeup artist as well, you got to watch the concert from the side of the stage.

You certainly didn’t put up a fight. Watching your boyfriend from just a foot away from the stage would have sufficed, but watching from the side of the stage with your sister? Even better.

The show was coming to an end, the second last song Chris was set to sing was ‘Masterpiece’, and of course he sang it like a god.

Just before the last song, Chris had something to announce to the crowd.

“As much as I love this last song, I have one thing I need to do before it goes on,” he began, turning around towards the stage entry where you were standing next to Shevy. “I’d like to ask my beautiful girlfriend to come up here really quick.”

Confused, and suddenly very nervous, you slowly trekked onto the stage on very shaky legs. You had no clue what was going on, because this was the first time Chris ever requested you to come on stage with him.

Once you were standing next to him, Chris turned back towards the audience. “For those of you who don’t know, this beautiful thing has somehow managed to put up with me for the last 7 damn years,” he chuckled, causing you to shove him back slightly. “And everyday for the last 7 damn years, Y/n has been nothing but amazing. She’s always thought very carefully deciding when she wants to do things. She’s always been supportive of everyone around her and has definitely been supportive about being on the road for the past very long time that we don’t care to count out. I seriously can’t ask for a better girlfriend or a better makeup artist. She’s smart, she’s kind, and she’s damn beautiful. Seriously, I have no clue how she’s put up with me for so long, but what I’m about to do is really going to trap her with me.”

You only grew more confused as Chris continued his little speech.

“This is something I’ve wanted to do for quite a while so while I have everyone’s attention, I’d like to ask her a very, very important question,” Chris paused, stepping back from you just a little bit…

Before kneeling down onto one knee.

Your hands were immediately cupped over your mouth as your jaw fell slack. The crowd immediately started screaming as Chris knelt down.

From behind you, you could hear everyone in production, the other three bands and Chris’ band mates shouting and whistling.

Chris looked up at you, wide smile on his face as he tried to find the right words to say and not to break out in tears. He needed to wait a minute before he could start crying.

“Y/n, baby, I knew from the second I looked into those gorgeous eyes that I knew I would be asking you this question at some point in our relationship whether we started dating or not, and I wish I would have asked a long time ago but I had a problem trying to find the perfect one and never knew when the time would come. I am thankful that the time has now come and that I have found the perfect piece to seal the deal. I promise to stand by your side when the world isn’t being nice. I promise to love you and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live. I promise to be there for you for the rest of our time on earth, Til Death Do Us Part. I love you, and I am more than willing to rot in hell with you for the rest of my life. So I have to ask…”

Chris trailed off, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a tiny black coffin-shaped velvet box in his large tattooed hands, and presenting you with a beautiful white gold engagement ring holding a very beautiful black stone in the centre of it.

The band was shaped like tree branches holding the stone, which was also shaped like a coffin. And there was engraving on the inside that said ‘Til Death Do Us Part’.

“Will you marry me?” Chris asked, a silent line of tears streaming from his eyes, his stage makeup that you did for him now ruined from the happy tears, as the crowd continued screaming.

Tears. Automatic tears fell down your face as you immediately nodded your head, bringing every single person in the venue to start cheering and clapping as Chris immediately stood back up and pulled you into him for a kiss after he put the mic back on the stand, wrapping his hands around your waist as you wrapped yours around his neck.

You managed to break away from your now fiancé so he could put your ring on for you. And it fit perfectly.

It looked just as beautiful on as it did off.

“I love you, so much,” Chris whispered into your ear, his hands holding around your waist as he pulled you back into him, littering kisses all over your neck and face.

“I love you too,” you cried, hiding your face into Chris’ bright red jacket, trying to control the tears but eventually giving up. “I’m more than willing to rot in hell with you too, Til Death do us part,” you smiled, referencing the song that Chris wrote about you 6 years ago.

“Til Death do us part,” Chris smiled as he pressed another kiss on your lips before he grabbed his mic and turned to the crowd who was still screaming.

“This last song before all you beautiful people leave, I dedicate to my future wife,” Chris said to the crowd, turning back to you with one final kiss before letting you go back to where you were standing before.

God, that felt nice to be referred to as now.

Shevy immediately yanked you in for a tight hug as the band gave Chris all the high fives and half-hugs as their way of saying congrats, then started playing the beginning of ‘Eternally Yours’, which only made you shed more tears.

You didn’t see much of the beginning of the song as you were being pulled in for hugs from all around you.

You looked at your sister. “Did you know he was going to do this?” You asked, half of your face wet with tears as she nodded.

“I went shopping with him to help find the right size since we’re the same,” she laughed, tears dripping from her eyes at the sight of her sister so happy.

You were very happy. Who wouldn’t be happy if Chris Motionless asked you to marry him?

Multiple ‘Congratulations’ were being said as you turned back towards the floor, your future husband staring at you with the happiest smile as he sang, blowing you kisses as the iconic love song continued.

As soon as this tour was over, the wedding planning would begin. And you could not be happier.

#chris motionless #motionless in white #chris motionless x reader

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rose-pearls · 1 year

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Christmas list - singing and baking - Pete Maverick Mitchell

Christmas list

“Alright we need to make about a hundred cookies for tomorrow so let’s get started!”, you say while looking around the kitchen.

“How does it come we have to make so many?”, Maverick whines and you can’t help but laugh as he arrives pouting, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Because we have a lot of friends and you adopted a bunch of aviators, twelve to be exact.”, you whisper teasingly and Maverick chuckles while peppering kisses on your neck.

“Common Mav let’s get started.”, he groans but after a quick kiss the both of you start measuring the ingredients you need for chocolate chips cookies.

The two of you work peacefully, well as peaceful as can be when Maverick swears every time he goes a bit over the recipe, and you can’t help but chuckle at him glaring at the scale like it was personally offending him.

“You know what will help us get motivated?”, you say as Maverick huffs for the tenth time in a minute, he looks up with frustration in his eyes, but a soft smile appears.

“What is that beautiful?”, he looks at you with tenderness in his eyes as you go grab your phone and start playing a Christmas playlist, enjoying the childlike smile that appears on Maverick’s face as he hears the first notes of ‘Last Christmas’.

“That is definitely giving me more motivation.”, he says with a bright smile and brings you closer and starts swinging the both of you to the music.

The two of you enjoy the embrace while swaying in your kitchen, not having to rush somewhere for once and just being able to enjoy some time together. The last few minute of the song plays as Maverick puts his forehead on yours, smiling down at you.

“We should continue the cookies, handsome.”, you whisper and Maverick hums while bringing you even closer.

“I’ll measure out the ingredients, you can make the dough.”, Maverick’s smile widens at you words and brings you into a loving kiss.

“Let’s get to baking, sweetheart.”, he whispers and the two of you stay a few seconds more into each other’s arms before leaving towards the kitchen.

It takes a few minutes but after that the two of you have started getting everything ready, Maverick is making the dough of the chocolate chips cookies while you start measuring out the ingredients for the sugar cookies that will be in the shape of an F-18.

After an hour of baking the two of you are starting to get tired and just as you get ready to tell Maverick that you need a break you hear the first notes of yours and Maverick’s favorite song.

The notes of ‘All I want for Christmas’ starts playing as Maverick and you look at each other with large goofy grins and Maverick has just the time to grab a wooden spoon that the song starts.

The rest of the song is spent screaming the lyrics jumping everywhere around the living room like children. Singing into wooden spoons and spinning each other around while not being able to stop laughing.

“All I want for Christmas is youuuuuu”, you miss the note completely but the two of you are too busy pointing at each other and laughing like idiots to even care.

The song ends and the two of you burst into laughter while still panting from the rush of excitement that came from the song. Maverick brings you back into his arms and you enjoy the embrace while catching your breath again.

“Let’s finish those cookies and after that we can watch a Christmas movie.”, you say as the two of you finally calm down from the rush.

“What do you say of a game during the Christmas movie?”, Maverick has a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes fondly.

“And what is that game?”, your husband smiles widely and looks around like someone is going to spring out of nowhere and scold him.

“We make a list of clichés that happen in Christmas movies and every time it happens, we have to drink.”, he says with a large smile, and you can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“Let’s do it! But first cookies.”, Maverick groans dramatically but follows you into the kitchen.

After about an hour of baking the two of you are done and you crash on the couch, Maverick bringing you closer as he starts a random Christmas movie.

“Ready to play?”, he whispers playfully, and you chuckle softly.

“Bring it on Mitchell.”, you whisper back and the two of you smile at each other before starting to watch the movie.

The game didn’t last long as the two of you fell asleep half an hour later, sleeping on the couch in each other’s arms while the twinkling eyes of the Christmas three were shining over you and the cookies were waiting to be decorated tomorrow morning.

#top gun imagine #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #pete mitchell fanfiction #pete mitchell x y/n #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell #christmas list

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thegirlwhowrites642 · 2 years

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Little awkward question but you think Harry and Ginny had sex in Hogwarts during HBP? Because many people saying that and some saying Ginny lost hers with Dean. I was so mad when heard and think both are unreal and nonsense. What's your thoughts on this?

Ok, I'm going to answer to this one and I'm going to be very professional about it.

I can do it. I'm old enough.

Let's go in order.

Did Ginny sleep with Dean?

I know that there are people who say this, none of them are very well-versed in these books and especially in Ginny's character, but I think they say it because they think that believing the opposite would be naive or something of the sort.

When I was Ginny's age I had two friends who both had been with their respecting boyfriends for a year. One had done all that one can do and the other had never yet felt ready to do anything of relevance.

When you are fifteen being in a relationship for some months doesn't really mean automatically anything, and whatever Ginny hypothetically did or didn't do would absolutely be her own business. But seeing that we need to find an answer let's examine her personality and relationship with Dean.

Ginny has an enormous trauma linked to opening up to someone she shouldn't have trusted. She doesn't trust easily and she is very guarded as a person.

She gives importance to touch. Harry and Ginny share a love language that is mainly based on looks and touches. For her physical affection bears meaning.

She is a romantic. Ginny's character is based on the combination between a quite harsh side and a very sweet one. A lot of people like to ignore this, because apparently a woman having a full spectrum of emotions is too much for their brains, but Ginny can be very sweet. She is in love with the legend of a hero, she writes love poems, she makes singing get-well cards, she decorates lavishly her house for Christmas, she goes around with a purple pigmy puff, and more importantly, she never really gave up on Harry.

Now her relationship with Dean. It seems to be better than the one with Michael but the good days don't last that much. They got together at the end of her fourth year and didn't see each other for a whole summer, so they basically started dating in September, by Christmas they were already having problems. And in regards to physical touch, there's never any indication of Ginny being particularly affectionate with Dean outside the snogging context and she seems unnerved by the small gestures she's instead so comfortable within her relationship with Harry.

In conclusion, Ginny didn't sleep with Dean. Shocking revelation, I know.

It's made pretty clear in the books that Harry is the one person she allows to break into her emotional sphere something that is also reflected in how she is way more comfortable when touch comes from him rather than Dean. She is also a romantic, someone who would give value to her first time. When you consider all this, combined with the fact that she never gave up on Harry, the answer is clear. It's not like she was 25 and worried she would die a virgin with a hundred cats. She not only would've wanted her first time to be with Harry but he also was the only one she would've been comfortable enough with.

Did Harry and Ginny sleep together in HBP?

JKR is a great writer from several points of view but world buildings and timelines are definitely not her strong suit.

There's a bit of a problem when it comes down to understanding how long Harry and Ginny dated in HBP. The match should be on the 10th of May, or even if not precisely that day, it was still the start of May and from DH we know that Dumbledore died on the 30th of June. This would mean that they dated for more or less seven weeks.

But Harry talks about a few weeks in the break-up scene. Now, I'm not an English native speaker but when I read "few weeks" my brain understands something like three, maybe four weeks? Seeing the context maybe we can interpret it as simply Harry saying that it was not enough, or maybe it just sounded more poetic that "not even two months"?

Anyway, depending on how we want to settle this problem we can discuss how further they went but they didn't sleep together. There's no way in hell that these two would ever do that before saying "I love you", which we know didn't happen. But more importantly, if we read the scene of the kiss from DH, Harry says she was kissing him like never before, if they had sex I doubt he would've said that.

#ginny weasley #harry potter #hinny #dean thomas #harry x ginny #ginny x harry #thegirlwhowrites642HPmeta

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tolltale · 9 months

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Band name, Persona, Manager, Besties, Wild card, 4 Sam?

THANK YOU FOR ASKING also it got distressingly long if u read it all you're a HERO

ask meme

Band name: How did they and the others come up with the band name? Has the name changed since it was founded?

"merry bones" comes from one of the first songs they wrote as a band about how happy performing together made them and how they could feel "in their bones" that's what they wanted to do forever. (didn't age well for one member specifically 😐) It was "happy bones" initially but they were unconvinced. the merry part came from an anecdote of the first (and last, until the band) experience sam had singing to an audience being christmas caroling in the neighbourhood at like 9yo, and the fact that she hated it enough she threw a tantrum and stormed off mid-performance once. so it was a little bit an inside joke for the band and another bit seven insisting she had to like. reclaim the bad first experience and associate it to something that made her happy instead dgdjdk. she thought it sounded dumb but the idea grew on her with time lol

Persona: How does their day-to-day personality compare to their on-stage persona?

mmhh on stage I would say she appears more confident and self assured, doing what she's best at and what makes her the happiest. more intense and out there too. off stage she's still very outgoing but not in an intense way. She's friendly in a way that usually puts people at ease rather than intimidate......most of the time. she's also very aware of the fact she's performing for an audience and has to present a certain way and "deliver an experience". it was a lot less like that when she was in a duet but now she feels the pressure of being the solo singer and having most of the attention. then again Sam performs off stage too lol she tries to charm and be funny and is overly aware of the way she presents herself and the kind of image she wants to project. There are few people who get to see her with her guards completely down

Manager: Do they get along with Orion? What do they think of him as their band manager?

not only does sam like orion a lot she's also immensely incredibly grateful to him and she takes every chance to say the band wouldn't be where they are without him and she means it 100%. they met when she was aimless and the only reasons why she was still trying so hard to find success with the band were not letting down her friends and because losing seven would have been meaningless if she quit. And seeing someone believe in the band and their music strongly enough to drop literally everything was like a wake-up call. because she also chose the band and music over everything else she just had to remember why. She also appreciates that he often can offer a logical point of view. when she is feeling doubtful about their music/performance (ALBEIT RARELY) she goes to him because she doesn't want the others to know. to the band she's like "okay this one is the album that gets us a Grammy I KNOW IT" and to Orion she's like . "okay should I drop everything and become like. An accountant instead. BE HONEST"

also like recognises like and when they met they were both romantically still going through it so Sam definitely had a Recognition Through the Other moment. "That guy needs help. Yes I'm sure . No I'm not telling you why." they have mutual soft spots for each other bc i say so <3

Besties: What’s their friendship with Rowan like? What are some things only he knows about them?

it's a very two peas in a pod kind of deal. they're both warm friendly people and like to joke around and are difficult to anger. they also both share the sense of humor of a 12 years old. I think he's the one she's the most physically affectionate with out of everyone in the band. He's the only one who knows the full extent of how she felt about The Vote and what doubts THAT stirred >:( Like is she only valued for her voice??? if their fans preferred seven would she have gotten kicked to the curb instead?? fun stuff like that. She's 98% over it right now . On a good day. On a bad day I'll say 68% ☠️

Wild card: Tell us something about your MC! Feel free to really just roll us over with an emotional steamroller and crush the souls out of our bodies, if you’d like. (You’re also welcome to choose one of the other questions to answer!)

the whole tattoo ordeal with seven did not stop her liking of matching tattoos At All. She is nothing if not someone who repeats a mistake fifteen times dhdkdm she's constantly pitching ideas for like. A band tattoo they should all get or they should all draw something and she gets it all tattooed or Rowan can design something etc etc. sometimes her friends think it's because she wants a GOOD matching tattoo to redeem the first bad one but she genuinely doesn't regret it it's like. What if the relationship has soured or things go wrong it doesn't MATTER because there was a point in which they believed in it so much they were willing to permanently ink it on their skin. And that's never becoming untrue. It's real and that's what matters <3 That said her face still scrunches up like she bit into a lemon whenever she sees photos/videos of herself with the tattoo on full display. Hashtag no regrets

#she sounds like she's massively going through it i promise she's doing fairly well..........For Now #these took so loooong to answer too i'm sorry #oc: sam

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whotaughtyougrammar · 2 years

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glenn/morgan for the ship ask?

Ngl I wasn’t expecting any asks for this so this was a pleasant surprise 😊

• Who’s the cuddler?

Glenn will cuddle in bed bc he runs cold yet refuses to keep his clothing on, but neither are particularly touchy-feely when awake. Glenn might sling an arm around Morgan’s shoulder in a “bro-y” way and Morgan might let her hand linger on his waist for slightly longer than necessary but otherwise it’s very hard to tell that they’re even friends, let alone romantically involved with each other.

• Who makes the bed?

Glenn whenever he’s home because he’s always the last person to wake up. Otherwise, Morgan will make the bed.

• Who wakes up first?

Morgan, she wakes up extremely early, like 5:30 or 6:00. Glenn waking up first would imply that he goes to sleep at some point in the night. (He is, however, a frequent nap taker.)

• Who has the weird taste in music?

You trying to tell me Mister Jazz Fusion Christmas Cover Band DOESN’T have weird taste in music? …Well, you’d be right. I actually think they’re both very boring when it comes to their taste in music, like you look at them and make an assumption and you’d probably be right, ESPECIALLY Glenn. If I had to choose, it’s probably Morgan bc she probably still listens to VN music and Vietnamese covers of English songs.

• Who is more protective?

Morgan for a variety of reasons. She met Glenn at a time when he was still trying to find himself and that first impression never completely went away, Glenn is the younger of the two by a not huge but still notable margin, people (especially his parents) are weirdly dismissive of Glenn in a way that Morgan find really gross and also Glenn has chronic foot-in-mouth disease which frequently gets him into trouble.

• Who sings in the shower?

Morgan, actually! Glenn is a bath person. :V

• Who cries during movies?

Neither of them are big criers but I think Morgan would just let the tears flow freely and Glenn is most likely to do the “I’m not crying there’s just a lot of dust in my eyes” thing, though.

• Who spends the most while out shopping?

Glenn. Morgan will make a list of things she needs and stick with it. Glenn will make a list of things he needs and only buy a quarter of the items because he got distracted by some dumb gadget and tech shit and bought that instead.

• Who kisses more roughly?

Morgan. Glenn’s first instinct is to be sweet with Morgan actually, but generally ends up following Morgan’s lead. Glenn finds kissing weird, anyway and only really enjoys it as a way to be intimate with Morgan.

• Who is more dominant?

Morgan again, both in life and in the bedroom. Glenn has an aggro, domineering stage presence that people think translates into the bedroom and if he actually had sex with people he would probably enjoy taking on that role but it’s more work than he cares to put in for something he only enjoys with one other person, and Morgan has never shown an interest in taking a more passive role, not even in passing and definitely not when asked, so Glenn has never bothered.

• My rating of the ship from 1-10.

It would feel weird if I rated this any lower than like, a 9, since I’ve written a whole series about them, or at least a very specific version of them, so I’ll go with 9/10.

#dungeons and daddies #dndads #dndads odyssey #dungeons and daddies odyssey #and so they were both tops #you will (still) have to pry ace glenn out of my cold dead hands #glenn close #morgan freeman #musicverse #ty for the ask! an unexpected surprise

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: hi!! i know i have been pretty consistent about updating this fic every other day but i’m starting a new job in addition to school so the updates may be a little bit slower. my apologies!!

Masterlist

Chapter 18

Emily was the first to clock it. She whispered to Derek who told Penelope and then it was game over. Everyone knew about the mysterious ring that appeared on Spencer’s finger over Christmas break.

Spencer was in the break room, refilling his coffee mug, when they began to discuss theories.

“You think they got engaged and married in the week we didn’t see him?” Rossi asked.

“If they did, I’m going to kill him for not telling us let alone be there,” Penelope huffed, stomping her high heel.

“But the ring isn’t on his ring finger,” JJ pointed out.

“Maybe the kid doesn’t know,” Derek offered.

“You think a genius doesn’t know which finger a wedding ring goes on?” Hotch asked, amused.

It was clear it was big news because even Hotch and Rossi had come out of their offices when Reid got up from his chair.

Spencer walked back into the bullpen, stopping when he noticed everyone’s eyes on him.

“Do we have a case?” Spencer asked.

“What’s with the ring on your finger, Boy Wonder?” Penelope questioned.

“Oh um that,” Spencer looked down at his hand wrapped around his mug, “Y/N and I have matching ones.”

He thought that cleared everything up so he continued to walk over to his desk. Once he was seated, he looked up to see everyone still staring at him.

“Did you elope?” Emily asked.

“No. This is on my index finger, not my ring finger,” he held up his hand, “The wedding ring is traditionally placed on the ring finger because it was believed that the finger had a vein that connected directly to the heart but that’s actually untrue.”

“So why the rings?” Rossi chimed in.

“I don’t know. I just really love her and I wanted to have something connecting us whenever we’re apart,” Spencer shrugged.

He blushed at the sounds of the team ‘awww’ing and ‘ooh’ing.

“Also I guess since everyone needs to know everything about my personal life, Hotch already knows but I’ll be out next week. Jo, Y/N, and I are going to Disneyworld,” Spencer smiled.

“Oh Henry loved it when we went but you’re going to be dead on your feet at the end of each day,” JJ said.

Jo was most excited for Animal Kingdom so that was the park you were starting off with.

You all waited in line for the safari ride. Spencer was adamant about all the germs festering at amusement parks so he had a backpack full of hand sanitizer, disinfecting wipes, and other essentials. He was carrying Jo on his shoulders and holding your hand.

Once you loaded into the safari vehicle, the tour guide introduced himself and the ride began.

Jo looked at the huge elephants grazing in amazement.

“Elephants live in groups called herds made up of only females. The matriarch is the oldest female in the herd and she is usually in charge,” Spencer whispered to you both.

The tour guide was spewing off facts about the animals as well but I think it was safe to say you and Jo preferred your own personal genius.

Zebras were drinking from the watering hole as you passed by.

“A group of zebras is called a dazzle and their stripes act as a way to cool themselves as well as avoid bug bites,” Spencer stated.

Next was the Expedition Everest roller coaster. Jo barely made the height requirement, cheering when the ride operator gave her the all clear after bringing out the measuring stick.

Immediately after finishing the ride, Jo demanded you ride it again. She was definitely a thrill seeker, alright.

After you took a lunch break of chicken tenders and fries, Spencer insisted everyone wash their hands twice and reapply sunscreen. It was nice to have someone even more responsible than you.

Then, you caught the Lion King Festival stage show to take a break from walking for a bit. It seemed fitting since one of your first memories as a family is singing along to that movie.

Jo seemed to be enjoying it but you and Spencer were trying your best to not doze off. The show was interesting enough, there were animatronics of the characters and acrobats and dancers but you and Spencer were both just so tired after running around to keep up with Jo all day.

Jo tapped Spencer awake after the show ended and the audience was clearing out.

“Daddy, dinosaurs!” she reminded him.

Your final ride of the day would be the dinosaur ride where it simulates traveling back in time.

The three of you got buckled up in the front row of the ride. It started out peaceful and Jo was watching the animatronic dinosaurs in awe.

However, things quickly went south. The ride was designed to seem like it was going out of control. The flashing lights, fake smoke, and hissing big dinosaurs soon began to overwhelm Jo. She curled up in a ball in between you both.

You were bent over, whispering reassurances into her ear that it was all just pretend and she would be okay. Spencer was stroking her hair and holding her hand.

Jo exited the ride with her face in Spencer’s shoulder.

“Jo, did you know that stegosauruses were herbivores? That means they only eat plants. In fact, the majority of dinosaurs were herbivores,” he softly spoke.

You really hoped this ride hadn’t squashed her love of dinosaurs. Maybe she just prefers to admire them from afar.

On the last day of your vacation, you were standing in front of the Disney Cinderella Castle at the Magic Kingdom Park. Jo seemed to have recovered from the dinosaur incident and was sporting her dinosaur converse today.

The fireworks you were waiting for soon began. It was the perfect way to end your last night.

“Woah,” you exclaimed after a particularly pretty firework burst into red streams in the air before fizzling out.

Jo was on your hip and Spencer was behind you with his arms wrapped around you both.

“I love you,” you looked to the side where he was leaning his head against your shoulder.

His side profile and perfect jawline were being illuminated by the colorful flashes of light in the sky.

“I love you too,” he turned to meet your eyes with a grin, kissing you.

The whole team was gathered around Penelope’s computer, looking at the email that Spencer had sent out to the entire team.

Subject: Having Fun

We are headed back tonight. JJ was right about being dead on your feet. I have to get my two sleepy girls to the airport somehow. Hope all is well with you guys.

-Spencer Reid

Attachment: 3 Images

The images consisted of a photo of the three of you in front of the Disney Cinderella Castle, Jo high-fiving a person dressed up in a Mickey Mouse costume, and a picture of Jo and you cuddled up on the bed of your hotel room.

“I didn’t even know Reid knew how to attach photos to emails,” Penelope stated out loud.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Reid willingly send an email,” Emily smiled.

In typical Penelope fashion, she printed the photos Spencer had sent and put them into a collage frame and displayed it prominently on his desk for him to find upon his return.

Spencer’s desk had changed drastically over the past few months. A once well-organized desk lacking a personality other than the piles of books now had a random assortment of photos, Jo’s drawings, and sticky notes marking up his calendar for important family events.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid #cm fanfic #criminal minds

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yaimlight · 2 years

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The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Katsuki’s not really a winter person. He hates the cold, the long dark days and not to mention the snow and rain that seems to come down in icy sheets and managed to leave him shivering even in his winter costume. So no, he’s not a fan of winter and by extension he’s not a Christmas person either. Personally he thinks it over rated and over commercialised. It’s just another excuse of companies to make money and people to make idiots of themselves as they congregate in streets lit with so many fairy lights it’s probably noticeable in space or huddle around massive trees to take photos with all their idiot friend like they’ve never seen one before. It annoys him, especially when he gets stopped on patrol and people try and convince him to take a photo with them in front of one, an experience made even worse if someone tries to get him to wear a Christmas hat.

So naturally he would be dating two people who actually like the blasted holiday.

Okay so maybe Shoto doesn’t like it but Y/N does and thats enough for him to be following her around as she throws up decorations and sings Christmas songs from the 80s that Katsuki wished would just die out already. Katsuki would like to say it’s cute. He would like to say that the thought of coming home and smelling all those freshly baked cakes and biscuits that Y/N makes is amazing but it’s really not. The songs get on his nerves after the first couple of days and he puts on at least ten pounds over the two weeks before and after Christmas Day. Not to mention the pointless garlands and decorations that go up around the apartment, or the fact that Y/N and Shoto make him get the blasted tree out even though they are perfectly capable of doing it themselves.

Katsuki hates it but he can’t exactly say that. He understands that this shit means something to Y/N and he wants her to be happy so he bites his tongue when he hears last Christmas for the fifth time in as many days and makes sure to try everything she bakes because the way she smiles at him when he does so is worth the stomachache. It’s not like the foods terrible, it’s not. She’s a good cook and everything tastes amazing and Katsuki does like it, there’s just so much of it that buy the time January rolls around just the smell of baked goods is enough to have his stomach groaning and sending him running to the gym.

For once he’s grateful they all have a lot of friends because they are all happy to be the recipients of gingerbread, stollen, pryaniki or whatever else Y/N decides to make, saving Katsuki and Shoto from the horror of having to eat it all themselves. Dunce face always whines about how lucky Katsuki is, having someone who spoils him so much and Katsuki always shove’s another cookie or slice of cake in his mouth, telling him to “shut up and keep eating because you ain’t going to feel so bloody lucky after you’ve eaten another thirty.”

Katsuki is lucky though. He knows that. He knows that most people with an attitude like him would struggle to find someone to put up with him let alone two people. So Katsuki keeps his mouth shut and lets Y/N and Shoto cuddle up to him under thick blankets whilst they watch cheesy Christmas movies and drink spiked hot chocolate. He doesn’t complain when Shoto drags him out shopping, determined to find the perfect gift for Y/N, nor when she does the same thing but for Shoto. They’re happy so Katsuki’s happy and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Life goes on but something changes over the years and at some point Katsuki actually begins to look forward to the day he comes home and finds a batch of spiced cookies waiting for him along with his tinsel wrapped idiots as they try and decide what colour to go with that year. It’s always gold, red and green. They’re the only colour decorations they have but from listening to them two go on it was as if they had every colour you could ever imagine available to pick from. He supposed they probably did, both him and Shoto more than willing to traipse around shops looking for decorations if Y/N actually decided she wanted a different colour. Sure Katsuki would complain but he would still do it, just to see her smile when present with the new ornaments.

He’s the one who starts suggesting movies the three of them can watch, knowing what one’s they both like best and what ones he can tolerate. Shoto still asks way to many questions and Y/N still answers with the patience of a saint whilst Katsuki makes sarcastic comments and predicts the ending before they are even half way through the movie. He takes cakes and cookies with him to the agency, refusing to share with anyone who isn’t Shoto. He even buys hand painted ornaments for the tree that are made to look like their hero outfits. He has to suffer through the vendor taking a photo of him with them and seeing it plastered all over social media but the way Y/Ns face lights up with her smile when he hands them over more than makes up for that. Every year after that they take pride of place, the three little bulbuls hung in a row right in the middle of the tree for everyone to see. Surprisingly Katsuki doesn’t hate it.

It only gets worse when the boys come along.

They were so fascinated by the lights and decorations when they were babies and Katsuki is sure he will never be able to forget the image of Shoto stood by the tree, mumbling softly to the little form of Kasui cradled in his arms as he held him up to the tree to see all the lights twinkling like stars. Suddenly coming home to a house smelling of cookies turned into the smell of cookies and the sound of laughter and something Katsuki longs for. Y/N, Kasui and Reo always end up covered in flour and icing, the three of them grinning like idiots as Katsuki and Shoto are presented with a plate of misshapen cookies that probably once looked like a Christmas tree but now look like a fat hedgehog. He still always takes one though, eating it there and then and declaring them the best yet even if one of their delightful children had managed to swap out the sugar for salt when Y/N wasn’t looking. That year the cookies get hung on the tree and Katsuki purposely keeps his mouth shut when soy sauce and dunce face steal one off the branches when they think no one’s looking. The look of horror and betrayal on their faces is worth the disapproving glair for Y/N and the exasperated way Shoto said his name even as Katsuki doubled over with how hard he’s laughing.

The tree becomes a family things, the boys wanting to help as soon as they were able to. It becomes more of an event. Christmas music goes on and hot chocolates made as well as a plate of cookies out for everyone to pick at. Katsuki still doesn’t really have much of anything to do with the tree, normally cooking dinner whilst the other four discus what pattern the decorations should go in. Katsuki doesn’t mind. He likes watching his family in moments like that. Like seeing Shoto lift up Kasui and Reo so they can place little glass bulbuls on the top parts of the tree, Y/N sat on the floor and teasing the cat with bits of tinsel that never actually seem to end up on the tree. It looks like a scene out of one of those sappy holiday movies and he can’t help but snap a photo, sending it to the old hag and Shoto’s sister because they always like to coo over that sentimental and domestic shit.

When they are done though and before the lights get switched on Katsuki is pulled away from the kitchen, the tree topper pressed into his hands because “it’s not a family tree if daddy doesn’t do something.” That becomes his job, the one thing he has to do with that ridiculous tree other than pulling it out of storage and though he grumbled and moans about it, letting Reo whine and Kasui get all huffy when they think he’s not going to do it, he always takes the glass star from Y/N, placing it delicately atop the tree. There’s a moment where the only light in the room is the soft golden twinkle of the lights on the tree and he’s stood there with one of the boy in his arms, Shoto next to him with the other clinging on to him with Y/N stood between them that Katsuki understands what people mean when they say having a family is a gift because he feels like he’s been given the best thing in the world. What they have might be strange and a little chaotic sometimes but he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world and that includes the number one spot.

Katsuki becomes one of those people he used to complain about, taking the boys to see the lights and various trees dotted around the city, enjoying their excitement right up until they are to old to be going out with their parents. Kasui’s the one who decides he’s to old for that kind of stuff first and as he and his brother are pretty much inseparable it doesn’t take much longer for Reo to decide he’s to old as well, though he’s a bit more reluctant about it. Katsuki doesn’t sulk the first year they don’t go out to see all the lights despite what Y/N says but it is when he realises that they aren’t kids any more and the things that had used to be important to them won’t carry on that way. It terrifies him. They’re growing up to fast and a part of him misses those two little boys who used to stare in wide eyed wonder at the world around them as they clung on to Katsuki with those small and chubby hands.

Some things don’t change though. Like Y/Ns constant baking over the holiday period. Kasui and Reo still help with that but Katsuki thinks it’s more to do with wanting to eat the cookies then anything else. Unlike Shoto, Reo is part way useful in the kitchen though his talents only seem go as far as patisserie, the relentless sweet tooth he had inherited from Y/N going a long way to help with that. Kasui takes after Katsuki though, able to cook a whole family meal by the time he’s twelve. Normally it’s Kasui bossing Reo around in the kitchen, much like Katsuki does with Shoto but in those few weeks every year the tables turn and Reo is the one who runs the kitchen and the ever growing cookie factory their home seems to turn into. Poor Ichika probably gets her body weight in sweet treats but she never complains, always full of bright smiles like Deku as she thanks the blushing boy for the gifts. Not that Kasui was any better, going as red as Eijiro’s hair whenever he handed over anything he had made to Tenko. The smug little zombie wasn’t as sweet as Ichika though, always smirking lazily and teasing the brat about all the time and effort he had put into making the cookies, always chocolate matcha ones shaped like cats wearing Christmas hats.

Life moved forward. The boys get older, start forging their own paths in the world but still every year they come and decorate the tree, stuffing their faces with sweet treats and bickering about where those stupid ornaments that Katsuki got all those years ago should go. Shoto doesn’t have to lift them up now, instead the four of them working together and still it’s Katsuki who puts up the star right at the end. He still comes home to Y/N and the boys in the kitchen baking, though normally it’s her and Reo actually doing the work whist Kasui sits on the counter whilst trying to interfere before getting his hand slapped away by his brother and a cookie shoved in his face to keep him quiet.

Eventually they stop coming to decorate the tree though and all three of them feel their absence that first year but the baking remains a tradition. Even when they’re older and have families of their own they still find a day to huddle into the kitchen, making a mess of Katsuki’s space and filling there home with laughter. Even when they finally retire and move out to the suburbs to a small house with a garden for the grand kids to run around in. Katsuki forgets how much he hated this time of year back when he was younger and the three of them were just finding their feet. Now he looks forward to it. To the smell of freshly backed fruit cake and spiced cookies. To the sound of laughter as Kasui and Reo lift their own children up to look at the very same lights they had been fascinated by as kids.

It’s a stupid time of year, over rated and over commercialised but Katsuki wouldn’t change anything about it. Not the cheesy Christmas songs Y/N still sings along to or the equally awful movies Shoto still gets them to watch, nor the ten pounds of food he puts on. His family is happy and so is he and that’s all that matters in the end.

Part of the Twos Company, Threes A Crowd series.

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feelingofcontent · 3 years

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DNP Rewatch: A Festive Day in the Life of Dan and Phil!

Date video was published: 12/20/2014 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 254

The 2014 DITL video! The last one had been back in August 2013. This is my absolute favorite DITL and probably one of my top five DNP joint videos of all time. Get ready for me to have way too much to say about it.

0:00 - sleepy morning + quiff Phil! We’ll see a surprising amount of that in this video.

0:05 - “almost a week till Christmas,” so they must have filmed this just a few days before it was posted

0:25 - no waking up Dan in “his” bedroom like in the first two DITL. Hmmm...this scene doesn’t seem staged at all...especially since Phil’s laptop is already open on the arm of the sofa. Unless he just left it like that overnight.

0:37 - love that the other advent calendar on the mantle in the one they made. 😂 There are 18 of the doors opened on it, so they’re probably filming this on the the 18th or 19th of December.

0:47 - they both jump into doing the theme music as soon as Phil says “titan”

0:57 - that is pretty late for them to be putting up the decorations! Phil looks sad about it too.

1:01 - sad tinsel. I think Phil had the silver piece in the background in his last video. And the little WALLE in the background here, from all the way back in PINOF. 🥺

1:17 - this domestic insight, just 😭😭😭

1:26 - full circle back to the first DITL video. I wonder if they watched the previous DITLs before filming this one.

1:41 - so many mugs.

1:48 - Dan did not want that one because it was very hard to actually drink out of as he discovered in DITL London. I really bet they did watch the previous ones shortly before this...so many references back!

1:55 - awww, happy warm Phil

2:13 - such a dramatic sigh but he goes to get it anyway!

2:25 - well that is a terrifying way to burn a tealight...put it on a dish!

2:33 - I love that there is no explanation for this in the video. Phil is superstitious about new shoes on the table, which they had both tweeted about before.

2:40 - Dan fashion show and an encouraging Phil

2:47 - immediate smile when Dan notices Phil there

2:56 - why does Phil looks SO GOOD in this clip. also, as usual a weird/slightly horrifying poem from his brain.

3:02 - love that they both decided to wear holiday jumpers. They also wore these same ones for their December radio show. Also the Dan lean-in 🥺

3:12 - PJ tweeted about this DNP visit!

3:27 - this whole leaving scene is possibly the most domestic part of any video - the candle argument, the coat adjustment, the stop in the bathroom to check their hair, Phil checking to make sure Dan has keys, the spider checking and joking... I mean.

4:13 - more throwback conversation to DITL London

4:35 - so glad he chose not to lick his hand. Even more horrifying in 2021.

4:40 - Dan talked about this and falling up the escalator in What not to do on Public Transport

5:00 - “bit corporate isn’t it?” but caves immediately because Phil wants to.

5:10 - Love that Phil orders while Dan finds a table. Love that Phil makes Dan draw something happy not just a sad face. Love Dan’s huge smile after that.

5:33 - Dan really can’t say much he was reading his phone in the clip right before this!

5:58 - Dan’s talking about this weird incident that Phil posted a clip of on LessAmazingPhil

6:18 - they always go to at least one nerdy shop in the first DITLs!

6:36 - the things they choose to zoom in on in this shop...Dan with Spiderman’s crotch a few seconds before this and now Phil on the shirtless guy book cover. subtle, lol.

7:29 - I had actually heard of this board game prior to this video because Wil Wheaton did a TableTop episode. I remember being so surprised to see DNP wanting it!

7:39 - Phil and his weird people encounters. 😂 And Dan just mocking him for it.

7:59 - they did, in fact, go to see Matilda the next summer.

8:10 - oh my god this clock scene. Of course Phil wants to make a game of it. And then Dan with the seemingly slight fudging of what he was pointing at. And this look and then both of them giggling. 👀

8:32 - that start of Dan’s running! This is around the time or shortly after he had started to see a therapist (according to the timeline he gave in Daniel and Depression), so thinking he probably wanted to start for his mental health.

9:11 - Dan talks about the “guy wearing the white sheet in Manchester” in What not to do In Town. Their reminiscing faces are too much.

9:19 - Phil is so excited about this. He had tweeted a couple times in the past about Moomins (1, 2)

9:37 - the excitement about the treats and the festive drinks and decorations and Phil’s teasing 😭

10:04 - they film fairly often in the back of cars and I just feel like must be so awkward, but it doesn’t seem to bother them. And Phil’s hair is quiffed again!

10:28 - and the stairs song! Which they are too prepared for so it must be a regular thing they say/sing. This video has SO MANY moments that I love.

10:51 - Phil just sitting while Dan hauls the tree box out. Maybe Dan lost rock-paper-scissors.

10:59 - reminiscing about THE TREE now, which is the last time they decorated on camera

11:09 - why is this a common theme in DITLs!? lol. Love that they’ve lit the candle again after getting home.

11:22 - “stop doing that” as he can’t control his giggles. sure.

12:03 - okay, Phil had to go get the other decorations! The “Christmas faces” are slightly horrifying

12:22 - that is the most horrifying. also, Dan and Phil themed toys/decor even in the bathroom.

13:02 - Dan’s little messed up piece of hair in the back is so cute. Also love that they have the garlands up and everything at this point too.

13:19 - even more quiff-Phil!

13:31 - their fridge contents are not great

14:04 - unexpected filming but a huge grin anyway from Phil. Also, how do they make just answering the door so awkward, lol. Also: what is that picture in the background in the bathroom(?)

14:32 - they’re so excited about this set up and dinner plan

14:43 - and now glasses Phil! Also, arguing about wrapping neatness. I love it. Although when we see Phil’s wrapping in a minute, I think I might agree with Dan...

15:03 - PJ will end up with one of these face banks

15:10 - Phil came up with some decent gifts for Kath this time, although he didn’t think she had good ideas.

15:18 - I find it so cute that Dan wants to keep the cookbook

15:30 - Dan looks almost embarrassed to share this. He’s also got something “12 Days of Christmas” themed in that blue box on the chair. Although apparently a lot of his family just wanted money.

15:37 - I have no words for Dan filming this closeup and then them choosing to keep it in the video.

16:16 - Phil’s trying to be all serious with his wrapping tutorial and then the tape just immediately falls. 😂

16:40 - “it’s endearing” Dan does look pretty endeared, lol. Dan’s concerned because the face banks are actually gifts from both of them, at least according to PJ

17:04 - wow, Vine mention

17:25 - Dan’s just expecting Phil to come up with a great pun on the spot. Also, the lobster thing is an old reference.

17:39 - I think I mentioned this in the last DITL post, but I like that we do see even in a short video that they spend some time alone. That’s just so normal, especially for introverts even when you’re that comfortable with someone.

17:45 - Phil will keep reading that book over the holidays

17:48 - we did see the inside of the chest. So what is Dan implying here, lol.

17:52 - well then. Dan’s giggly face though.

18:08 - soft piano Dan 😭

18:25 - Ariana Grande had sent them both cat ears after they met her for the radio show

18:37 - a glimpse at the early gaming channel set-up.

18:46 - we don’t actually see that footage in the gaming video

18:51 - it must be pretty late at night by this point considering it was dark when they came home

19:15 - Phil’s first instinct is to throw it of course

19:18 - this face and the sweater paws. I can’t. 😭

19:25 - and of course a joint ending.

19:40 - Dan is so sleepy and happy seeming here

20:13 - awwww 🥺 The last video of 2014!

One difference from the first two DITL is they don’t even pretend that they’re going to see other friends/invite someone over. Just the two of them hanging out and they seem quite happy with that. This is probably the most “domestic” of the DITL videos. I love it so much.

Phil went to his parents’ on the 23rd to celebrate Christmas. He had Swedish food, was very excited as usual, got a stocking with a toothbrush and animal socks, and watched Guardians of the Galaxy. Dan went to his family’s on the evening of the 24th after a candle incident (lol, though I love that he was burning the candles even without Phil there. He started the tradition of yearly Christmas pictures of Colin. And also posted this.

On to the 2015 videos, and the start of the TABINOF/TATINOF era!

#dan and phil #dnp #dnpRewatch #amazingphil #daniel howell #phil lester #danisnotonfire #amazingphil videos #A Festive Day in the Life of Dan and Phil!#ditl

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

the best gifts are unexpected

w/c: 1.6k

summary: you sort of end up with two secret santa’s this year

a/n: this is another random idea i had that i actually really love? plus it’s a christmas one and christmas is this week which is insane wow :/ happy reading y’all

━━━ ☆彡*. ｡

“ok, who wants to go first?” betty asks the group and shakes her present around.

everyone agreed to do secret santa at your mini christmas party. it was ned’s idea, which is why you’re all in a circle on his living room carpet with mystery boxes in front of you. you picked names out of a beanie mj was wearing so it would be fair. all you know is that you’re peter’s secret santa. the rest surprisingly stayed secret.

it’s a surprise because some people in the group are terrible at keeping things to themselves.

flash holds his gift bag up in the air before anyone else can answer. “me!” he quickly pulls the wrapped box out and starts ripping the paper off. betty watches on with a proud smile. she tries to cover her mouth, but you already saw. that crosses one pairing off the list. flash gasps when he sees what it is.

she got him a spider-man pop figure. it’s one of his newest suits, too. peter will definitely be blushing if you look over at him right now.

“this is so sick! he’s gonna go under my pillow.” flash grins and taps the clear spot that shows him. “why, so you can say you slept with spider-man?” mj snorts at her own joke. she’s next to you, so you elbow her side. she winces and shoots you a glare. peter smiles to himself.

“no, so he can keep me safe at night,” flash says a little too seriously. the circle goes quiet for long enough to be awkward. he puts the box behind him with an eye roll. “whatever. who had me?” betty raises her hand, beaming at her success. flash nods. “nice. thanks.” “you’re very welcome,” she says in a sing song voice.

you can feel someone’s eyes on you. you turn your head, and it happens to be peter’s. he shifts his attention back to ned the second you make eye contact. that’s odd. then again, peter is always odd.

next is ned since you’re going in order. he’s excited to open up the cardboard box until he realizes there’s nothing in it. his face scrunches in confusion. he ends up picks something up and squinting at it.

“it’s a... piece of paper?” he eyes everyone suspiciously. “turn it over, buddy,” mj says under her breath. ned hears her and does. grinning, he holds the paper to his heart. “no way! this is, like, all i ever need!” “what is it?” you furrow your eyebrows with a small smile.

“a subscription to disney plus!” you direct your smile to mj. you’re impressed. she shrugs and pulls a knee up to her chest. “dude, they have so much star wars stuff on there,” peter chimes in. ned gives his best friend a knowing look. “can you sleep over?” “nerds,” mj mumbles to you. “let them have their moment,” you defend.

betty goes after ned. she’s probably the happiest of all of you to open her gift. she texted everyone her wishlist at least three times, so it has to be something good. based on the way she squeals, it is. it’s this new eyeshadow palette from sephora she’s been wanting.

“oh my god, shut up! i love it!” she carefully puts it down and bounces up on her knees. “whoever got me this, i have to give you a hug.” peter is the one who opens up his arms. she scoots over to him on her knees, practically tackling him. he chuckles and hugs her back. “thank you so much, peter!” “of course.”

you try to laugh along with everyone else, but something stops you. it’s a green monster, and not the grinch. you’re jealous. mj just has to pick up on it. she pats your back, a smirk pulling at her lips. “relax, mrs. parker. it’s nothing.” scowling, you scoot away from her. “don’t call me that.”

“your turn, y/n,” betty chirps, sitting back down next to you. you unenthusiastically sit your heavy present in your lap. everyone watches you slowly peel the wrapping paper off, mj fake yawning. “take your time,” flash comments. “guys, come on,” peter says for you.

you perk up when your gift is finally open. you’d always thought it would be cool to have a record player. no one ever got you one before because you “didn’t need it.” apparently, the music sounds the same as it would in your earbuds. you can actually find out if that’s true now.

plus, you have something else to do during break. lots of record shopping.

“wait, seriously?” you pout at the group and set the record player down in front of you. “i’ve wanted one of these for so long. thank you.” “i got you.” ned smiles and reaches over betty to give you a fist bump. mj goes next.

she gets a book that goes inside the criminal mind from flash. he says his search history probably got him on a few watchlists.

peter is last to open his present from you. you’ve been anxious for him to open it since you added it to your cart. anxious in a good way because you’re positive he’ll like it. he’ll hopefully like you also.

he already knows you’re his secret santa since the rest of the group went. mj scoots back so you can see him while he opens it. you catch a wink from her. peter grins at the bow you put on it and sticks it on his shirt for now. you watch his whole face light up as he finishes unwrapping it.

he’s kind of amazing at photography. he takes it as an elective and practices whenever he has time. you’ve even done little photoshoots on his phone for fun. midtown lets him use a camera with pretty good quality and all the important functions. but, peter’s style is more vintage.

that’s why you got him a polaroid camera. some film for it, too.

“woah, y/n.” peter looks from the box to you. “this is so awesome. it’s a lot cooler than anything i have,” he breathes out a laugh, licking his lips. “i think it’s... my favorite present.” “ever?” you laugh. “ever,” he confirms, reaching for your hand. your heart is thumping in your ears. he squeezes your hand in his. it earns an “aw” from ned and betty in unison.

“thank you isn’t even enough. you have no idea,” peter says for only you to hear. you squeeze his hand back with a small smile. “yes it is. take some good pictures for me.” “i will,” he agrees after a few seconds. something is on his mind. mj moves up again before you can ask what it is, which also makes you drop his hand.

“dessert time,” she announces and rubs her hands together. she’s oblivious to the look of disappointment on your face. flash points at her. “someone get those sugar cookies.” “i’ll go,” ned volunteers, about to stand. peter shoots up from his spot instead. “no, i can do it. you pick a movie to watch later.”

he nudges your shoulder. “y/n, could you help me?” ned makes a face at him. “you know, we need plates and everything,” peter quickly covers up. it’s a good enough explanation for him to focus on logging into disney plus. you take the hint and get to your feet. “yeah, let’s go.”

you follow peter into the kitchen, everyone else giving ned movie suggestions. peter checks behind him to make sure no one is looking. he relaxes after that and leans back against the counter. you stand next to him, closer than usual. he’s not mad about that.

“i feel like we’ve barely talked all night,” peter murmurs and stares down at his feet. you press your lips together. “that’s cuz we haven’t.” “let’s fix that.” he taps your foot with his playfully, getting a laugh out of you. “hey.” “hi,” you say back. “thanks again for the camera. i can’t wait to set it up.” the smile is clear in his voice.

“i’m really happy you like it. i thought you would,” you admit, leaning into him slightly. he welcomes it. “i, uh, actually got a little something for you,” he starts and reaches behind him. your heart is beating out of control again. so is his, but you don’t know that. “aw, peter. you did?”

“it’s... it’s kinda stupid. i’m not sure you even want it-“ “i’ll take anything if it’s from you,” you cut off the rambling he’s about to do. he nods and pulls whatever it is out of his pocket. it goes from behind his back to over your heads. you look up and see mistletoe.

peter moves so he’s in front of you. his face is only inches from yours now, your eyes landing on his lips. he takes the same hand he was holding earlier, lacing your fingers together. “can i kiss you?” he checks, his voice soft. you wind an arm around his neck. “please.”

he presses his lips to yours so lightly, your eyes fluttering shut. it’s so sweet and so long overdue. you tug him closer so the kiss deepens. leaning his head forward, he drops the mistletoe and wraps his other arm around your waist. you’re back against the counter with him hovering over you.

your lips move easily against each other’s like it’s natural for you.

“peter and y/n, what’s taking so-“ mj turns her head and sees you two kissing. “oh, okay!” she cheers, betty glancing curiously. “get it, y/n!” ned and flash join in next. they all holler at you while you kiss. it becomes too funny, and you have to pull away so you can both laugh.

giggling, you bring one of your hands down to the bow peter left on his shirt. you pull on it. “i think you’re my favorite present.” “ever?” he repeats what you said earlier and nudges your nose. his lips brush yours in the process. “ever.”

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker fic

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

VALERIE - Part II. (Harry Styles)

thank you so much for all the love you have showed to the first part of valerie! im so happy you are just as excited about the story as i am so i hope i won’t let you down.

if you are enjoying the story please make sure to give it a like and reblog so it can reach even more people and of course as always im more than happy to read your thoughts and comments on the part!

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Working on a major report you have to finish by the end of the week, you are completely focused on your computer’s screen when your phone buzzes on the desk next to the keyboard. You grab it and answer the call without even checking the screen.

“Y/N,” you say into the phone.

“What’s your size?”

Harry’s voice pushes you out of focus as you grimace unintentionally.

“Since when do you have my number? And what the Hell are you talking about?”

“Since I asked for it from your sister,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “And I’m asking you what size shirts you wear.”

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Because I’m trying to dress up as you for Halloween.” Your eyes widen at his comment, but soon enough he continues. “Because I found cute matching shirts for godparents and a goddaughter and I wanna buy it, but I don’t know your size.”

“Oh,” you say, finally understanding the situation. “What kind of shirts?”

“It’s Fairy Godparents themed, thought it would be funny to wear it at maybe Christmas or something. But only if you are up for it.”

“Yeah, sounds fine,” you nod and give him a little guide to what sizes you usually wear, letting him decide which information he needs for the shirt he wants to buy.

“Have you thought about what you are buying for Val for Christmas?” he asks once you put the topic of your size aside.

“Harry, it’s the middle of October. I don’t even think about Christmas presents until the 15th of December,” you let out a tired sigh.

No matter how bad you want to start shopping in time every year, you have failed every time so far, no exception.

“This proves that I’m the better godparent,” he huffs on the other end of the line.

“It’s not a competition, Harry,” you roll your eyes.

“But if it was, I would be winning. Anyway, I might go a little overboard with the present, so if I end up ordering something big, are you interested in teaming up? I don’t like to give the biggest present on my own, makes it feel like I’m bragging.”

“But you kind of are bragging.”

“That’s besides the point. So, do you want to share or not?”

“I guess we could,” you shrug your shoulders leaning back in your seat. Your legs feel numb as you finally straighten them under the desk, you haven’t even realized how long you’ve been sitting there, eyes glued to the screen.

“Perfect. Is that all?” you ask, not because you are impatient to leave the conversation, it’s been kind of pleasant, you just have a lot to do.

“So you’re really going on that blind date on Friday?”

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden change in the topic and how boldly he just asked you about your private life. This was the last thing you expected from him.

“Why does that have anything to do with you?”

“Was just asking,” he says and you can see him shrugging his shoulders. “It’s an odd thing.”

“For you. I’m fine with it.”

“Are you though?”

“Why does that matter to you?”

“It doesn’t,” he simply answers. “At least there will be something to make a joke out of next time we meet,” he snorts and you roll your eyes at his comment. Now that sounded more like Harry.

“Unless you won’t have any information about it.”

“You seem to forget Steven gossips like a little girl and I can also have my ways with Rosa too. I’ll have the details before you even get home after the date.”

“You are so full of yourself, Styles,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Yeah, and it seems like you were also full of me one time.”

“Go to Hell,” you spat, mocking his British accent that just makes him laugh. “If you are done making a joke out of me I’d like to get back to work.”

“Whatever, Love. We both know you just want to get away from this conversation so I don’t roast you even more.”

“Bye, Harry!” you sing before ending the line without even waiting for an answer. Harry Styles once again proved how talented he is in getting on your nerves.

***

Marcus turns out to be a great company and you are finally sending your kudos to your sister for setting you up with a hot guy who is also smart enough to keep up the conversation and not bore you out of your pants.

He took you to a fancy restaurant that’s in the building of a hotel, a place you normally never go to, because it’s pretty much out of your budget, but Marcus was persistent on going there and paying for dinner. After the starter awkwardness you soon cool down and maybe that wine he ordered has helped you relax too. Marcus tells you about himself and then you do the same, just covering the usual fields of your life.

“I have to admit, when Rosa said she wants to set me up with her little sister I was hesitant at first,” he chuckles softly when your dishes finally arrive.

“You’re not alone with that.”

“Does she set you up often?”

You shake your head. “No, there was just one other time, but the guy was horrible, I have no idea why Rosa thought we would be a match.”

“I hope I’ve been better than him,” Marcus chuckles.

“Absolutely.”

You hear your phone buzzing in your purse and at first you just ignore it, but when it goes off two more times you sigh and reach for your purse.

“Sorry, I forgot to mute it completely,” you excuse yourself as you grab your phone and your plan was just to mute it, but then you see that you got three texts from Harry and your curiosity doesn’t let you slide over it so you quickly check them.

“Well done with your outfit.”

“Gives a great view of your legs.”

“Is it also this tight on your ass?”

You run over the messages two more times, staring at your phone in complete confusion. What is he talking about? How does he know what you are wearing?

“Is everything alright?” Marcus asks and you snap your eyes back at him.

“I, uhh—Yes, everything is fine, it’s just that…”

As your gaze runs over the place your anger immediately boils inside you when you spot that familiar grin at the bar. Harry is sitting right there with a scotch in his hand that he raises when you spot him. There’s another guy with him who you don’t know, but it seems like he is more focused on you than his friend.

“For fuck’s sake…” you breathe out clenching your jaw. “Excuse me for a second,” you tell Marcus who just curiously eyes you as you slide out of your seat and head over to the bar. As you march over to the grinning Harry you are literally fuming, ready to kill him right then and there.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap at him trying to keep your voice down. You wouldn’t want to make a scene for sure.

“Having a drink, what does it seem like?” he asks innocently, but his face tells you otherwise.

“How did you know I would be here?”

“Why do you think I went into such depths as finding out where your blind date would be? Can’t I be here by accident?”

“Nothing about you is an accident except the fact that I ever found you charming enough to sleep with you,” you growl back and earn a laugh from his friend. Harry wasn’t expecting such a harsh response for sure, you can tell it surprised him, but he doesn’t let it push him out of his cocky act.

“Was it Rosa and Steven?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest.

“What if both?” he asks smugly and God! You just want to smack him across the face.

“Why are you here, Harry?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Maybe I just want those details first handed. It’s funnier to witness it all.”

“You know what? I don’t think that’s the truth. The reason why you are here is because you are afraid someone might treat me right and that I might have an experience that would just make you appear like an even bigger asshole than what you already are.”

Harry chuckles looking away from you, but you can tell you just wounded his confidence big time, so you decide to take it further.

“I made a mistake with hooking up with you, but I’m smarter now and I don’t start with little boys like you. I know my worth and what I deserve so I’d really appreciate it if you could move on and let me be. I know it’s hard to forget about me, but you’ll have to try.”

You mentally highfive yourself, because this time you actually made him shut his mouth, he has no retort as he opens his mouth but then closes it back. Flashing him one last bitter smile you turn around and walk back to your date and make sure Harry has a nice view of your ass. He can have one nice thing after getting so burned.

Your little scene with Harry doesn’t ruin your date, especially because not long after you made his jaw drop to the floor he decided it’s best if he just leaves quietly. By the time you finished eating he was nowhere to be seen.

However you keep thinking about why he even chose to come there. It was way over that healthy line of picking on someone and being an annoying stalker. It’s one thing wanting to know the awkward details about your date, but showing up was definitely just too much.

Part of you was expecting him to call you the next day, maybe apologize, but more like to make a joke out of the whole thing but you don’t hear a word from him and it makes it easier for you to forget about it pretty fast.

A week later you are having dinner over at Rosa’s, just the three of you plus baby Valerie who you keep in your arms the whole night, not able to get enough of her cuteness.

“I knew you two would hit it off,” Rosa sighs with a proud smile and Steven just rolls his eyes at his wife.

“It was alright, yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle. You just told them about your date with Marcus and you can tell Rosa feels like she just hit the jackpot. After that disastrous try you had last time Marcus was surely a change for the better.

Valerie looks up at you with her huge eyes as you flash a grimace at her, earning a short giggle before her attention diverts somewhere else. She is grabbing onto your finger, not letting go of it as if she is trying to hold herself in place by her grip.

“Funny thing, Harry showed up at the restaurant too.”

Rosa almost chokes on her water and Steven starts to cough very suspiciously. Glancing up at them you can tell they are both to blame Harry had any information about where Marcus was taking you.

“Really? That’s… odd,” Rosa clears her throat.

“Is it though? You don’t have to pretend like you had nothing to do with it.”

“I’m sorry, but he just makes you talk so easily, he always gets what he wants,” Rosa sighs, clearly feeling guilty about it. “But I didn’t think he would actually show up. I thought he was just curious.”

“Did he cause a lot of trouble?” Steven asks, worried his friend gave you a hard time. He is not wrong, but it’s not your intention to throw dirt on Harry.

“It was just awkward. I don’t see why he came there,” you admit, shaking your head as you adjust baby Valerie in your arms so she is sitting now on your lap, looking around the table curiously.

You catch a look Rosa and Steve shares and you immediately know something is up.

“What? Do you know something I don’t?”

“No, we definitely don’t,” Rosa shakes her head, fingers running up and down the glass in her hands. “I just… there could be one reason I think he went there for.”

“What is that?”

“You don’t want me to say it out loud, it’s silly, let’s just forget about it,” she tries to end the discussion, but there’s no way you let it slip.

“Rosa!”

“I was just thinking, that… considering the past you two have, he might have been… jealous?”

“That’s literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you scoff as you turn to Valerie. “Did your momma lose her mind, Princess?”

Valerie just looks at you curiously before smacking her little hands on the edge of the table, completely ignoring the conversation.

“I told you, you wouldn’t like this idea, but this is what I thought about.”

“Then stop thinking about it. There’s absolutely no way this is what it was about. Besides, our past is irrelevant. He was literally the biggest jerk to me when he had a chance with me. Why would have he blown that just to be up in my business now all jealous?”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t have any plot holes, but it could be a reason,” Rosa adds while Steven just hums next to her, not really taking part in the conversation.

Soon enough Steven takes Valerie up to put her to sleep while you and Rosa stay downstairs. You have moved on from Harry, but your mind keeps wandering back to him so you find yourself bringing him up again.

“What do you think about Harry? Aside from everything I’ve told you.”

You’ve always been curious how other people see him, since you had a very strong opinion on the guy that was tainted by everything that happened between the two of you.

Rosa takes her time thinking of her answer and you wait for her patiently. Leaning onto the table she rests her arms on it turning to face you.

“From what I’ve seen from him, he is a very loyal, caring and loving person. He and Steven have been friends for so long and Steven always told me how he could count on him no matter what and he has been proving the same to me. Have I told you he was the reason I got to wear the dress I dreamed of on my wedding?”

“What?” you ask surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Basically, I had that dress and a cheaper one held in the store until the day before the wedding. I knew we couldn’t afford the expensive one, but I guess I was hoping until the last minute for a miracle to happen and it seems like Harry was that. Steven asked him to pick the cheaper dress up because he was caught up with work that day. He told him specifically to bring the cheaper one and leave the other there. But when he arrived with the dress in the morning when I was getting ready, he had the expensive one. He said the lady asked which one he needed and when he said the cheaper one, the lady seemed sad and told him how much I loved the other one but I even told her I couldn’t afford it. Harry didn’t hesitate to pay for the difference the dress had over the cheaper one. I started crying the moment I saw that he had the one I loved and I was also panicking that I won’t be able to pay back to him.”

You listen to her in awe. It surely is a side of Harry you haven’t had the luck to see in the act, though you felt like you had a glimpse of it before the night of the wedding took a heated and then a quite sad turn later on. The Harry you got to know in the very beginning was the same Rosa was just talking about.

“Harry told me he won’t take my money, no matter how hard I tried to make a deal with him, he made his mind up and didn’t let me change it. I knew then that everything Steven told me about him is true. And I know he can be a cocky fucker sometimes,” she chuckles making you smile as well, “but he has a heart of gold for sure. And this is why I agreed when Steven told me he wants him to be the godfather. I want Val to learn from him, to look up to him, because I really think he can have an amazing impact on her.

“Listen,” she sighs leaning back in her seat and you watch her curiously. “I know that the two of you hate each other with passion, but… you can’t do it forever.”

You let out a long sigh looking down at your lap. It’s one of those sisterly talks when she’ll share her wisdom with you and you’ll just know she’s right. Rosa is always right. Well, mostly.

“I wasn’t there, I don’t know how he acted or what he told you exactly, but he is family now and one of you will have to take the first step. You’re wasting energy on the constant fighting, but I really believe you could work together as a team. I know it’s not just on you, I’ll try to have a talk with him as well. No matter what I think about why he showed up at your date, it was still an ass move. I’m just asking you to… be patient with him and maybe only say out loud half the insults you address to him in your head. That would be a nice start,” she chuckles and reaching over her hand squeezes yours as you nod quietly.

It almost hurts you how right she is. It doesn’t matter how pissed you are at Harry for everything he did and said in the past, you can’t keep on playing his ridiculous game forever. It consumes too much energy and time when you could just be neutral and coexist with each other happily in Valerie’s life. She doesn’t deserve to grow up seeing her godparents hate each other with a passion, that’s just not right. This time you gotta suck it up and move on from what happened, but everyone knows it can only happen if he cooperates as well. You can only hope he’ll take Rosa’s advice and show a nicer side of his face to you.

***

The room was exactly like battlefield, makeup and hair products laid on every possible surface as all the bridesmaids were getting ready, two hairstylists working on the girls while a third one was perfecting Rosa’s loose curls. Grabbing your dress you looked around for a possible corner where you could change since you were finished with hair and makeup, but you saw no free spot, so you had to be creative.

“I’ll go get changed in one of the other rooms,” you told Rosa before you walked out, down the hallway looking for an open and empty room you could use as a changing room for just two minutes.

Luckily you found one just two doors down the room Rosa and the girls were getting ready and taking a look around you made sure no one saw you sneak in there. It seemed once it was used as a smaller conference room, but now it was filled with boxes and extra chairs, looking more like a storage room. It was just fine for a quick change.

You quickly got rid of your plain shirt and jeans along with your bra since the dress had one sewed into it. You stood there, already in your dress as you were trying to get the zipper up, but it seemed like it got stuck.

“Great,” you grumbled, still jumping around hoping to find an angle where it slides right up, but it was stubbornly staying in the same spot. You were just about to gather your stuff and go back to the bride’s room and have someone zip you up when the door flew open and a tall, curly haired guy appeared with a suit on a hanger on his arm and a pair of shiny shoes in his other hand.

You jumped at the stranger’s arrival and he seemed just as surprised to see someone here as you were.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

His British accent was thick through his words and it immediately made you think that he must be Harry, Steven’s best friend. You’ve heard about him before but never actually got the chance to meet him. Now standing in front of him with your back almost fully exposed you can’t help but feel a little shy. He surely has an intimidatingly handsome face and physique that shows even though his loose hoodie.

“I just snuck in here to get changed, I was just about to leave,” you explained yourself, holding your previous clothes to your chest along with the front of the dress so it didn’t fall.

“Your dress is… unzipped,” he pointed it out with a soft chuckle and you looked over your shoulder as if you had to check it for yourself, but you knew it well it was in fact unzipped.

“Oh, yeah. The zipper got stuck, I’ll just… have one of the girls help me.”

“Come here, let me help you,” he offered and you hesitantly, but turned around to show him your back.

His hold fingers made you jump a little when he reached for the zipper.

“Sorry,” he chuckled and you just shook your head letting him know it was alright.

It took him a few tries to get the zipper going, but it finally gave in and slid all the way up. Once it reached the top Harry ran his fingers over it gently as if he sealed it, the touch of his fingertips sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, turning around. “I’m… Y/N by the way,” you told him, holding out a hand that he took and shook with a charming smile on his soft looking, pink lips.

“Harry. You’re Rosa’s sister, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Steven’s best friend.”

“I am,” he chuckled. “You look a lot like Rosa, if I might say.”

“We get it a lot. It’s the eyes, I think,” you told him. You and Rosa more or less have the same eyes and maybe share a similar jawline too that makes it pretty obvious that you two are sisters.

“Two sets of pretty eyes,” he smiled and your eyebrows rose at the compliment, feeling the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks.

“I… better get going, so you can change too,” you told him turning away and rushing to the door before he could realize how nervous he just made you.

“See you around, Pretty Eyes!” he called out after you.

He called you Pretty Eyes quite often that evening. Whenever you met at the bar, when he sat next to you through dinner, when the two of you talked outside, a little farther away from the people having a smoke. But the last time he called you that was when the two of you were heading to his room, he was all over you, kissing you anywhere he could, hands gripping your waist greedily as you were trying to open the door with the card he handed you in the elevator. That was the last time he called you that. You haven’t heard this nickname from him since then.

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #valerie #harry styles valerie #valerie series

511 notes · View notes

junicai · 3 years

Text

Relationship with NCT 127

➣ Taeil ☾ taria

taeil is the Sole Protector of aria’s sanity

taeil loves his maknaes so much, but he literally looks at her like she put the stars in the sky

the Proud Dad smile :’)

when aria first debuted, czennies thought that she was the same age as jungwoo - because she acted older than her age - but with taeil she lets her inner kid come out

highkey dependent on his approval for things in relation to singing

“was, was that ok?” “perfect, ari.” “ (O_O;) - (◕‿◕)♡”

she will fight mark and donghyuck for his attention, and she will win

for a while, the two had shared a dorm room before they were rearranged, and taeil let her slip into his bed when she was feeling homesick

the offer is still open, but aria takes him up on it less and less

taeil is NOT sad about that. absolutely not.

he’s vehemently against any and all diets she tries - saying that if she gets any smaller he’s going to be able to pick her up with one hand

que him dragging her out for ice-cream after a promotion, paying no mind to her protests

aria helps taeil with translating a lot of things into english during lives and interviews - so much to the point where he’s picked up a bit of an irish accent and the others never fail to clown him for it

taeil still has the small braided bracelet that aria gave to the members on their first anniversary of nct (he keeps it in the drawer beside his bed)

aria is his self-professed happy virus. he told czennies in a vlive once that her smile makes him feel really happy and he wants to protect it to the best of his ability

aria always fixes his micpack before they go onstage if its crooked, because she comes out after him in the lineup

they have monthly movie nights and they alternate who chooses the movie / show (taeil normally goes for mystery or drama themed ones, while aria enjoys making them both sob miserably)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria and taeil singing “I See the Light” from tangled for the NCT Music channel, and the tears that were shed by both moonis and realtai alike. sm really popped off with the staging and the lighting of the whole video - between the smiles that were on both of the singers faces and the whole ambiance created, its a cinematic masterpiece

no one was surprised when it hit 2 million views in a day, and a lot of solo stans were born from that video

➣ Johnny ☾ johria

indisputable siblings

there is not a single czennie who ships these two romantically, and that’s because they’re just too wholesome

johnny is one of the few members that aria calls “oppa”, mainly because of the age gap and sm wanted her to appear respectful, but also because he thinks she looks so cute

very chill, excellent vibes

their vlives are either chaotic messes or the closest thing to therapy since ice cubes

the blanket on aria’s bed? that was a gift from johnny - she had been complaining to mark about how cold she always was anemia tings

czennies are begging for sm to allow aria to open up a solo instagram account, becuse they see the amount of pictures johnny takes of her

in the park? he’s making her pose in front of the flowers. backstage before a show? the lighting, c’mon.

big big bear hugs - the height difference make nctzens want to die

185cm vs 158cm? p l e a s e she’s so tiny in comparison (/ =ω=)/

when she gives him backhugs it looks like a little kitten trying to wrestle with the family dog

play fighting about vernacular:

“ITS CALLED A SIDEWALK” “S I D E W A L K, ITS A FOOTPATH YOU BUFFOON”

very vocal about her wellbeing, and has asked fans before to remind her to take better care of herself and get to sleep sooner

aria, starting a vlive at 3am: hi hi~

the comments: NO GO TO BED

johnny helped her a lot when it came to the style change in choreography, as aria was used to soft, flowing movements and not the powerful, sleek style that most nct dances have

consistently forgets the fact that she is not the fourteen year old he first met, and is, in fact, an adult now. “you’re a child” “im 18″ “...no”

is the person to get angry on her behalf when interviewers belittle or ignore her

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

during a fansign, a fan asked aria who did she think was the most comforting when she was stressed (besides mark and donghyuck) and aria said johnny. “he’s so, constant? like nothing seems to knock him or throw him off, and that’s really comforting when i feel unsteady.”

johnny is now known as aria’s weighted blanket.

that is all.

➣ Taeyong ☾ ariyong

taeyong took one look at aria the first time she showed up for group practice and immediately adopted her (not literally, but he would if he could)

eomma meets highly protective older brother meets life coach type beat?

so so soft for her its sickening

says he doesn’t have favourites and will then spend an hour cooking for aria because she’s been in the studio for the whole day and he knows she hasn’t eaten yet

when aria was given a duet to do for the sm stages, she had to pick another member to do it with and her first choice was taeyong

she always has said that taeyong is one of the pillars keeping her upright and sane - without him she wasn’t sure if she would have been able to complete her training

because of all the schedules they share together, if aria isn’t rooming with mark then she’s definitely rooming with taeyong

whenever she does his makeup (more often than you’d think) she point blank refuses to cover his scar, even when he asks her to

“please? i don’t like it.” *gasp* “how dare you.”

sleepy aria! snuggling into taeyong’s shoulder when a schedule ran late!

he gets uncomfy when the stylists put her in too revealing clothes, and has spoken to them on numerous occasions about dressing her in age-appropriate attire, no matter how “sexy” the concept might be

he keeps little bags of sugar-dusted strawberry sweets in his bag incase she forgets to eat and feels faint after the last time (they used to be blueberry flavoured, but he heard donghyuck throwing out any and all “blueberry-contaminated” food one evening)

taeyong doesn’t tolerate hate towards aria, especially in person, so he always makes sure to sit down the line from her so that he can see when people skip intentionally her

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

taeyong had just been awarded the solo bedroom on the last night of the Mtopia series, and was staring off into the corner looking rather uncomfortable. aria, who was meant to be rooming with baekhyun looked over and saw his mouth curled downwards slightly.

“baekhyun-oppa, is it ok if i room with taeyongie-oppa tonight? i ran out of my tablets, and he has some in his bag..”

baekhyun looked down at her with a small smile and agreed, while on the video edited captions appeared with the words, “a cute maknae, asking to room with a younger member...”

➣ Yuta ☾ nakamiya

the president of realtai

this man is absolutely, completely and irrevocably whipped for aria and she is not afraid to use that to her advantage

she beat him at arm wrestling because she pouted at him - she’s too powerful

aria.exe stopped responding when yuta started to playfully flirt with her the first few times

*winks* “hu-wha-”

one of the most outwardly protective members of her, because he feels a sense of responsibility for the younger girl

he was one of the trainees she first befriended, aria’s korean not being good enough to hold a decent conversation, and yuta happy that there was another japanese trainee

9 times out of 10, when the members are making their way through crowded areas like airports yuta is always behind or directly beside aria

during a fansign one of the fans asked why he did that, and he said that he needed to keep her in his line of sight or else he’d get anxious that she’s so small that she could get swallowed in the crowds

yes aria hit him for the short comment

yuta, 50% of the time: you’re not allowed date until you’re 35

yuta, the other 50% of the time: bro where’s your boyfriend

he complains that she isn’t as sweet as she was when she first joined, and that hyuck must have corrupted her (╬ Ò﹏Ó)

he let’s her braid his hair when its longer, them both sitting on a bed with yuta in front and aria kneeling behind him so she can reach

he was the first person to take her home for the holidays, because ireland was too far to go back for a week over christmas

“what do you mean you’ve never been to japan???”

bitching about the other members in japanese? more likely than you’d think

when aria turned legal in korea, yuta took her out drinking and made sure to post pictures of her with her flushed cheeks on his instagram story with the caption “aish, i told you to pace yourself....” “happy birthday riri”

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

you know that one clip of the sasaeng getting absolutely trashed by nct’s bodyguard and taeyong jumping 7 feet into the air?

well taeyong wasn’t the only one startled; standing beside yuta, aria was closest to the wall of fans when the girl ran forward towards the members. aria jumped in fright, while yuta barely made a face (#unbothered). he simply wrapped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her around to the other side, tucking her underneath his arm.

tsundere!yuta

➣ Doyoung ☾ dori

*ahem* WHIPPED *ahem*

doyoung adores aria so much

was he unsure about a girl being added to a group of boys? yes but it was moreso concern about how he was going to make sure she wasn’t accidentally trampled

they bonded over a night in the recording studio when he found her sitting on the floor with music sheets scattered around her

a whole mentor when it comes to singing

aria always turns to him after singing - especially when it wasn’t planned, like at a fansign - to see if she did a good job

doyoung has yet to tell her that she hasn’t but sue her, she appreciates the validation

the original mother and Will Not Let Taeyong Forget It

doyoung, dragging aria out of the studio: now listen here young lady-

kitten and bunny friends RISE

no seriously sm released merch of a kitten and bunny plushie and it sold out in a day

when aria had the accident that led to her two month hiatus, doyoung was the one who rode in the ambulance with her after refusing to let go of her hand

“i’m sorry sir, only family are allowed in at the moment-” “we are her family” *nurse looks around the room at the 14 other boys sitting anxiously*

he is a weak, weak man he will crumple on any decision if she smiles and slash or whines at him even slightly

carries band-aids and support strapping in his practice bag because he knows that she gets really bad blisters when she hasn’t practiced while wearing her heels in a while, and he makes her wrap her ankles for the first few sessions incase she falls

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS.

NCT 127 Take a Friendship Test (Glamour - 2020)

“ahh, my first impression?” *laughs* “actually, we first met in a recording studio, at like. 3 o’clock in the morning? he stuck his head in the doorway and i was so tired that i thought i had died and an angel had come to save me...” (*μ_μ)

➣ Jaehyun ☾ jaria

you know how cheetahs in the zoo get emotionally support puppies?

this is the same type of vibe

very snuggly together? but only in specific scenarios, like when jaehyun is too tired to move after a movie night, he’ll just kinda engulf aria in a hug and make her sleep on the couch with him

any back hug she gives him turns into a piggy back, its non-negotiable

likes to randomly compliment her to see how red he can make her face go

did she have a crush on him when she first moved to korea? yes, but who didn’t

that faded really quickly though once she started into the group officially - now they are more like siblings

they don’t interact that much on camera? rip to the jaria shippers

but that doesn’t mean they aren’t close with each other its just that a lot of their interactions happen off-screen

naturally, jaehyun began to think of her as a younger sister over the years they performed together

jaehyun will end anybody who lays a hand on aria

a little bap bap if you will

he asked her to take him ice-skating one day, and the entire time was spent with aria laughing her ass off as he ate the ice nearly fourteen times before getting the hang of it

he takes her out for food when he notices that she’s been put back on a strict diet plan (aria thinks she’s good at hiding those pieces of paper, but she forgets that when she puts it on top of things, that other people are a lot taller than her and have a higher vantage point)

the prince and princess of nct? check

head pats

he likes to pat her head and she’ll swat it away immediately until she gets tired and just lets him do his thing

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

jaehyun was wearing a flower crown placed carefully on his head as he bent down slightly to run his hands through the damp grass. a soft shutter sound went off, before he heard a hum coming from behind him. “jaehyun-ssi, could you take off the flowers? we can’t see your face clearly because of the shadow.”

jaehyun glanced backwards at aria’s retreating figure, being chased by donghyuck with hands still stained green from the grass she had shifted through to find the fallen flowers. she stopped and waved at him before resuming her run.

“i’d rather not, if that’s alright. i think it fits quite well with the theme.”

➣ Jungwoo ☾ ariwoo

oh my god someone please stop these two

once jungwoo taught aria about the power that aegyo holds for persuasion tactics against the older members of 127, they were unstoppable

you should be afraid of them

100% have plotted someone’s murder before (and have succeeded, czennies always wondered where that last manager went after The Incident)

aggressively cute together - to the point where your teeth will rot

jungwoo will intentionally flirt with aria just to fluster her because its “so easy to do”

not very physically affectionate, but jungwoo has no hesitation calling out “uri fighting haeyadwae!” to her when she looks like she needs a little encouragement

jungwoo is the reason she wants to do a bachelors degree after finishing high school

he used to help her with her maths assignments after school when she was struggling with managing her time

they’re called the “aegyo duo” of the group, and there has yet to be an outright winner of the competitions to find the cutest member (its aria. jungwoo said it himself, its aria but we been knew)

they have an odd dynamic of looking like best friends the first second, evil masterminds the next and then siblings who want to murder each other but they make it work

will and has flopped down on her while she was laying on the practice floor and then whined when she tried to get up

he spilled the tea that aria gets super emotional and affectionate when she’s drunk

cutest shit ever that made ariwoo shippers lose their absolute minds was the clip that got released in the behind the scenes filming of Kick It, where jungwoo was half asleep in the corner and aria just pops up out of nowhere to shove a folded jacket under his head and made sure to prop it in a way that he wouldn’t get a sore neck when he woke up

jungwoo is the reason she knows korean curse words (dont tell doyoung)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria wobbled in her heels slightly as she stepped out of the van, trying to hold a blanket up to protect her legs while she slid off the seat onto the ground. jungwoo extended an arm around her waist, gripping the blanket in his other hand and carefully holding her to make sure she didn’t trip on the cobbled stone.

➣ Mark ☾ mari

1/2 of the best friend crew

honestly at the beginning, mark and aria weren’t very close, having only really seen each other in passing or with johnny

but after being dropped into training together the two quickly became fast friends, and now they’re borderline inseparable

you thought you knew pain? watch aria’s reaction to mark’s graduation from dream :)

mark’s the reason why aria felt confident enough to pitch some of her lyric ideas to the team, after staying up until 4am to help her make some edits so she was as confident as possible

kinda just, rests his head on her shoulder? and wraps his arms around her waist when he’s tired

mari being confused in foreigner: ???

aria said once in a vlive that she finds mark really comforting to be around - when she feels stressed or worried about something she’ll go to mark’s room and just sit on his bed for a while

aria is so close with his parents - “ahh, how’s my favourite child” “i’m doing great mom.” “no not you, how’s aria?” “wh-hu-MOM?”

you’d swear sometimes mark is younger than her, considering the pout he puts on and how much he whines when they’re not on the same team together for promotions

mark big protecc boi but also little small cuddly boi

they’re so soft for each other ( ╥ω╥ )

in one of the fancams for mark’s solo stage during superm, someone zoomed into aria singing along with him in the wings and dancing to herself with the Proudest Smile(tm)

he’s! so! proud! of! her! constantly! she could be walking and he’d be like “omg get it”

when aria refuses to get up and make herself food (this happens way too often, she just gets into the groove of her work and doesn’t want to move) mark gets her to by threatening to do it himself

consistently caught by czennies just standing behind her and holding her hand in crowded areas - airports, waiting rooms, etc.

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

mark and aria were standing off to one side as the mc explained the rules of the game they were about to be playing. mark looked totally confused, and elbowed aria in her side before looking down and mouthing “what?” to her. aria opened her mouth, before closing it and looking down at the ground, muttering to herself, “결합... 結合..... le chéile.... le... le.. oh oh - combined! we have to put them together, markie.”

and thus, a new confusion meme was born

➣ Haechan ☾ arichan

the other half of the best friend crew

absolute heathens to be around when they are together

donghyuck is the person aria is closest to, and someone she’d call her best friend (only when she was sure he wouldn’t hear her)

she calls him “the demon child i can’t get rid of” but will, and has definitely pouted when he ignored her for too long

generally aria is a pretty soft spoken person, but not with hyuck around - he brings out all her chaos energy (please pray for the patience of dotae)

the pair have a little tradition of kissing the back of each others’ hands before going on stage for good luck. they can’t even remember how it started, but now its an unnegotiable pre-show ritual

he’s so clingy with her absolutely everywhere its painfully adorable (ಥ﹏ಥ)

interviews? hyuck has a hand on her knee, or if she’s wearing a skirt he’s tucked his hand in between their chairs so she can hold it discreetly. in the dorms? full body tackle onto the couch, where he proceeds to lay on top of her completely.

because of hyuck’s nickname being the sun, and aria always being around him, czennies gave her the nickname “moon” to go with him

fans thought that aria was older than hyuck for a good year and a half before she released her birthday on a vlive, because she’s normally the one tasked with reigning his chaotic energy in during promotions (that is, if she hasn’t already joined him)

but off-camera, aria is absolutely hyuck’s baby there is no disputing that. aria’s sad?he’s there with ice-cream and a blanket and a baseball bat.

the winnie the pooh character that is on aria’s bed was a gift from hyuck for her 17th birthday, after she made him watch seven episodes of the show on netflix with her one night

yes he complained, but he slapped her hand away when she went to change it to something else

a twitter thread of a czennie comparing their horoscopes together went viral when people realized that it was quite plausible that the pair were each others (platonic) soulmates

after an incident involving blueberries, donghyuck took it upon himself to check the ingredients of every. single. food item in their dorm to make sure it was ok for her to eat

hyuck clowns her for her irish accent, and aria curses him out in japanese

tldr: they cute or whatever

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

donghyuck was doing a vlive in his bedroom, sitting and talking to czennies when aria opened the door to his room quietly. she didn’t say anything, just waved slightly with almost closed eyes before she crawled underneath his covers and tucked her plushie underneath her chin. hyuck didn’t even blink at it - so it must have been a regular occurrence.

293 notes · View notes

puckinghell · 4 years

Text

Not A Typical Christmas Story | Elias Pettersson

Summary: You’ve never loved Christmas, and there’s nothing that can change that; especially not your best friend’s grumpy Swedish friend who you don’t even like. However, when you’ve gotta be forced into the Christmas spirit to write a Christmas story for class, there’s only one person who is willing to try and help you. Words: 14k (I’m SO sorry) Note: Here it is, a Christmas story in November. Honestly I’m nervous to post this, I’ve never put so much of myself into a story, but here we go. I loved loved loved writing this and I hope you guys like reading it. Also, the cliche scenarios were stolen from a random blog post.

“You’re such a fucking Grinch.” Brock takes a sip from his hot chocolate. There’s murmur in the bar around you, and he’s muttering, but you still hear him clear enough.

“Hey,” you protest, lightly hitting him on the arm. “I’m not a Grinch. Just because you put up your Christmas decorations in October and have been singing All I Want For Christmas Is You since July, doesn’t make me the Grinch for not doing that.”

Brock raises an eyebrow. “You literally just said you hate Christmas.”

“I did not.” You stubbornly cross your arms. “I said I hate Christmas stories.”

“That’s basically all there is to Christmas,” Brock brings in, and that’s probably fair enough.

Apart from the food, presents, family time, decorations…

Fine. Maybe you don’t like any of those either. But not liking Christmas is not the same as being a Grinch: you’re completely fine with letting everyone enjoy their festive December, as long as they leave you out of it.

Which is exactly why you’ve been complaining to Brock. And as your best friend, it’s literally his duty to listen to you; unfortunately it also means he’s gonna make fun of you. Just a little bit.

“I just don’t get why I have to write a Christmas story,” you mope, a little pathetically. “There’s so many Christmas stories in the world already, Boes. And they’re all the same! The foreign sports car breaks down in a blizzard and the city slicker gets stuck in a bar with a bucktoothed chicken strangler with an IQ of 7 whom he decides, through love or delirium, he cannot live without. Or the sadistic Christmas-hating miser of the pathetic backwoods town, who makes his money grinding the faces of the poor, is inspired to a change of heart by a teary-eyed child who bears a striking resemblance to his dead daughter, and donates all his money so that the ghost town can continue its wretched, grimy, poverty wracked existence.”

At that, there’s a muffled snicker from the side of the table. You’d almost forgotten that Elias was there, to be honest.

You raise your eyebrow at him. “What? You’ve got a better Christmas story?”

Elias raises an eyebrow back, but doesn’t answer. He usually doesn’t. Brock says he’s talkative enough when you’re not around, although you for the life of you do not know what you’ve done to earn his judgment.

“Don’t bite Petey’s head off,” Brock chides. He’s always trying to keep the peace between you two, and sometimes you feel bad that he has to police his two best friends.

Today is not one of those days.

“He’s laughing at me!”

“Because you’re being ridiculous.” Brock sighs. “It’s just a Christmas story, Y/N. You’ll write it, you get a grade for it, it’s done. How hard can it be?”

It’s clear that Brock has no idea how hard it can be to write a decent story. Sometimes, you wonder if he can even really write or read: maybe he’s just memorized a bunch of words and called it a day.

You let out a grumble and drop your head on the dingy, sticky table in the rundown bar that Brock and Elias are so keen to go to, probably because they never get recognized there. Not surprising, considering the fact that the age of the average customer is above 85.

Normally, you like your creative writing course. People told you to get electives you thought were actually fun, as your normal college courses are taxing enough, and you’ve always been a writer.

Or, well, been a writer… You write. You wouldn’t call yourself a writer: you’ve never published anything and you can’t be a writer before you make money from it. But you like writing. There’s at least a hundred half finished Word documents sitting on your laptop at any given moment.

But this project isn’t fun at all. All the students in your course were excited to get to write a Christmas story. It is December, after all, and most people have gotten properly into the Christmas spirit by now. However, you’ve never liked Christmas – for reasons that you will not think about with Elias’ judgy eyes on you – and you usually write scary stories, so this is not up your alley.

“Hey,” Brock’s voice sounds, and it’s gentle now. He’s probably noticed you’re actually having a mental breakdown over this. “It’s just one stupid story, and it doesn’t even have to be good. Just write about like, animals that can talk.”

Elias snorts again, and this time you can’t even blame him.

You lift your head only to shoot Brock a glare. Brock raises his hands in helpless manner, rolling his eyes as he goes.

“I’m trying to help.”

“I’m going to get beers,” Elias says suddenly. It’s the first thing he’s said all hour, you think, and the sound of his voice almost startles you. “I think you’re more helpful when you’ve got a beer, Boes.”

He’s not wrong, but you won’t tell him that. Instead, you stare at his retreating back, disappearing towards the bar.

“Why do you hate him?” Brock says, and he sounds a little accusing.

“I don’t hate Elias, just as much as I don’t hate Christmas,” you tell him, before you realize that that technically doesn’t speak of your innocence, so you try a different tactic. “He doesn’t like me either! He never talks when I’m around.”

“Cause you make him nervous!” Brock exclaims. He pushes his now empty mug towards the side. “You’re always making snappy remarks at him.” He stares at you with big blue puppy eyes, his bottom lip pouting out. “I wish you would just get along. I love you both and it’s very annoying to have to always be in the middle of you.”

In reality, it’s not like Brock really has to be in the middle of anything. If it was up to you, you would simply not ever see Elias, and you’re pretty sure that’s the only thing you and Elias would ever agree on. But Brock somehow always brings you together: like how today he’d forgotten to mention his teammate’s presence when he asked you to come out for a drink.

But you don’t blame Brock, not really. You think there’s another universe in which Elias and you could be friends. You’re very similar, in a way: you’re both not from Vancouver, both don’t have your family around, and you share a similar sharp sarcastic humor and a love for teasing Brock.

The first time you met Elias, you were hopeful. Brock was, at that point, your only friend in Vancouver, and the two of you had become best friends like you’d grown up in each other’s pockets. If Brock liked this guy so much, you figured you’d like him too.

But Elias hadn’t seemed to feel the same way. You met at one of Jake’s parties and Brock had introduced you with the statement that you were going to be beerpong buddies, because he’d already promised Troy.

Elias’ eyes had been a little too intense, as they traveled across your face. You could feel them burn into your skin like lasers, and when his eyes finally met yours it had felt like being hit by the entire universe at once.

“Oh,” he’d said, and it had been filled with… not even disdain. You could’ve handled disdain, because you could’ve called him out on that. But this had been indifference, that you’d heard in his voice, and that was something you didn’t know what to do with.

He’d not said anything else all evening.

Ever since then, you’d put stone after stone into the wall you build between you and the quiet Swede, every single time he so much looked in your general direction. Nothing big ever happened between you: you hadn’t had any huge fights or massive blow outs.

It was just indifference, that ate at you until it became reluctance and then annoyance, and it’s that same thing you can read on Elias’ face now when he quietly sits in a corner, listening in on your conversations with Brock.

Yes, it would be easier for Brock if you and Elias could become friends, or at least friendly enough.

“Sorry, Boes,” you tell him with a sigh. “I just don’t think it’s ever gonna happen.”

“Is there a reason you’re not wearing a shirt?”

You raise your eyebrow at Jake, who opened the door wearing black jeans, a Santa hat, and literally nothing else.

"I lost a bet,” he says solemnly, opening his front door further. You stomp the snow off your boots on his porch, then move past him into the house.

It’s freezing cold outside and Jake’s house is lovely and warm, which makes you happy to be there if only to enjoy the heating. It’s not like you don’t have heating at your flat, but the electricity bill is high enough every month without you turning the thermostat up as high as it goes, so usually you try to keep warm with sweaters and blankets.

Brock told you to dress pretty though, so you wore a dress to Jake’s party. Which means it’s a good thing he’s got the heating going.

“You look lovely,” Jake smiles, taking your coat from your hands. Having him act like such a perfect gentleman in the outfit he’s wearing makes you laugh, and he shoos you inside when he notices.

You like Jake. In fact, you like all of Brock’s friends – except the one, of course – and that’s the only reason you said yes to coming to this party. It’s not like you’re against parties, but it’s a Christmas party: and despite the fact that it’s the first week of December, you’ve already heard enough Christmas music to last a life time.

“There she is!” Brock hoots, when he spots you. He opens his arms and you give him a quick hug, saying hi to Bo and Holly, who he’s standing with. “I have a brilliant idea,” Brock says however, before you can even ask the Horvats how they’re doing. “And you can’t say no right away.”

That definitely means you’re gonna wanna say no right away.

“I’m not promising that,” you hum. Just at that moment, Jake appears with a glass of prosecco that he hands you, and you send him a grateful smile. He disappears just as quickly, which is probably the better option considering what Brock’s about to say.

“I think you should make an actual, real effort to get into the Christmas spirit this year.”

“I don’t think so,” you immediately answer, but Brock waves away your protests with a wave of his hand.

“That’s not the part you’re gonna wanna say no to.”

“Oh dear,” Holly laughs, and you glare at Brock.

“What, then?”

“I think you and Petey should get in the Christmas spirit together.”

The sentence is bizar enough that you burst out laughing. Surely he’s kidding.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, then, turning to Bo: “Is he drunk?”

Bo shrugs. “Not yet, I don’t think. Tipsy at most.”

“Think about it,” Brock says. There’s a glint of excitement in his eyes, which promises nothing good for you. “You’re staying in Vancouver this Christmas, right?”

You don’t say anything: the answer is yes, and Brock knows that, because he’s been trying to convince you to come back to Minnesota with him for a month. However, as you’ve told him every time, there’s no way his girlfriend would appreciate that, and you don’t like being a third wheel. Or - but you haven’t told him that - a charity case.

“And so is Petey!” Brock proclaims. He motions somewhere to the left, where the Swede is probably hiding between all his teammates, trying to stay as far away from you as possible. “So both of you have to stay here in Vancouver, alone, during Christmas. And he loves Christmas, and you don’t, but you have to write that Christmas story and it would be so much easier to do that if you actually celebrated Christmas, so he can teach you how.”

Your best friend isn’t making a lot of sense, and there’s too much information to process so quickly. First of all, you didn’t know Elias would be alone for Christmas, although you suppose it makes sense that he can’t go back to Sweden just for 2 days of Christmas. Secondly, you don’t need someone to teach you how to celebrate Christmas: it’s not like you don’t know, and much more that you choose not to.

And third: fuck. You’d basically forgotten about that Christmas story.

“It’s a brilliant idea,” Brock says proudly and a little smug. “And I haven’t told Petey yet but I know he’ll be down.”

This time, you respond: you start laughing hard enough that Brock’s smile slips off his face.

“I really don’t think he will,” you giggle. You reach out, patting Brock’s arm with a smile. “Boes, you’re a sweetheart, but stop worrying about me. My life isn’t bad because I don’t like Christmas.”

It’s bad for some other reasons, like financial debt and family misfortunes, but not because of a lack of reindeer ornaments and bad mulled wine.

Brock pouts. “But…”

“No,” you cut him off. “I can write that Christmas story just fine on my own, thank you. And if you’re worried about Elias, you can ask him to Minnesota.” You take a step back, glancing at your empty prosecco glass. “I’m gonna get another one of these.”

As you’re making your way to the kitchen, you can still hear Brock’s sputtering.

Although Jake’s house is filled with people, the kitchen still seems quiet. It’s not until you’ve let the door fall closed behind you though, that you notice movement in the corner.

“Oh,” you say, a little annoyed to be caught off guard. “It’s you.”

Elias barely glances in your direction. “Just getting some water.”

Elias’ style is always a little funky, and if you didn’t dislike him so much you would’ve appreciated how daring it is. This time, though, you literally can not help but laugh at him.

“Nice sweater,” you say, and it doesn’t even come out as sarcastic.

Elias looks down at his sweater like he didn’t even notice he was wearing it. It has a reindeer stitched on, except the reindeer looks… Well. Baked.

“Quinn got it for me,” Elias says, and he sounds a little sheepish, which is not a tone you hear from him often. “He’s got the same one.”

“A little co-dependent,” you tease, and it comes out too light and easy for it to be directed at Elias. He looks a little surprised, too, at how jovial it sounds.

“You look nice,” he says, then. He’s looking at you now, and you can feel the weight of his eyes press against your skin.

There’s something about Elias’ gaze that makes it feel like your lungs are constricting, and you don’t know what it is. You could blame it on the fact that his eyes are the kind of piercing blue that authors would compare to the ocean or maybe the summer sky, but Brock has blue eyes too, and you never feel like that when he looks at you.

“Uhm, thanks,” you bring out. The awkwardness settles over the kitchen like a heavy cloud of fog, but for some reason your first instinct isn’t to just run out of the kitchen, like you usually would.

This is definitely Brock’s fault, for making you feel bad about Elias being alone in his sauve but empty apartment in Vancouver on Christmas, when he apparently loves the holiday so much.

“Brock thinks you could teach me how to love Christmas,” you blurt out, and Elias looks nothing short of utterly baffled by your statement. You sigh, and explain. “We’re both in Vancouver around Christmas and apparently you love Christmas and I don’t, so he thinks you should teach me how to love it. He thinks it would help me write my story.”

Elias seems to ponder that for a second. When he speaks, his voice is tentative. “Do you think it would help?”

Your first instinct is to, once again, call out no and laugh it off, but for some reason you don’t. Elias sips his water like he’s prepared to wait for your answer, and you give yourself some time to think.

Realistically, getting into the Christmas spirit, or at least getting an idea of what other people feel when they’re in the Christmas spirit, could really help you pull off this story. You’re good at putting yourself in other people’s shoes, which is how you manage to write characters you don’t necessarily see yourself in.

When you wrote a story about a doctor, you talked to your friend who’s in med school about it for a week. Now, you wanna write a Christmas story. It wouldn’t be an awful idea to be around someone who loves Christmas.

“Maybe,” you admit. “But you don’t have to do it, I know you’re probably busy…”

Elias shakes his head before you’ve finished your sentence.

“When hockey goes on break, and all my teammates go home for the holidays, I won’t have anything to do.” He shrugs: it looks careless but in the most forced manner, like he’s trying to hide just how much it does matter. “We could do something, I guess.”

I guess. It’s not really the most enthusiastic response you’ve ever had, but then, this is not normal for you and Elias.

“You know what the ultimate Christmas plot is?” Elias says then, a little hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “A Christmas party is in fear of flopping thanks to a lack of Christmas spirit, but is rescued by some energetic soccer mom with no life.” He grins. “I could be the soccer mom.”

To your own surprise, you burst out laughing at his description. You didn’t think he was really paying attention when you were describing cliché Christmas plots in the bar with Brock, but maybe Elias pays attention to more than he admits.

“Fine,” you hear yourself say, and you honest to God have no idea where that came from but you know Brock is gonna shit himself with excitement when he hears. “When hockey goes on break, you can be the energetic soccer mom and try to bring me into the Christmas spirit.” You smile. “It won’t be an easy task, Pettersson.”

Elias raises an eyebrow but there’s nothing judgmental about it, this time.

If anything, it’s a challenge.

He sticks something out to you: it’s your glass, now filled again with prosecco, which he somehow managed to fill up without you even noticing.

“It’s on,” he says simply, and when he raises his water glass in the air, you don’t even hesitate to clink it.

“Shopping is not a Christmas outing,” you say, stubbornly crossing your arms. “And I really don��t think this is gonna get me into the Christmas spirit.”

“What do you mean?” Elias deadpans, as he yanks a shopping cart free from all the others. “Middle aged housewives fighting over discounted wreaths? There’s nothing more Christmassy than that.”

You snort. “Right. It’s just gonna be spoiled crying kids who want toys that they already have and parents pretending it’s Santa who spoils them so they don’t have to take responsibility for their kids being rude drama queens.”

Elias laughs. He pushes the cart into the department store, and you reluctantly follow him.

“That’s another storyline,” he says.

“The unexplained dilemma of parents who do not believe in Santa, and yet we, the wise audience who knows better, are left to wonder where they think these toys came from? ‘Psst, honey, Santa’s not real, so from whence came these marvels?’”

“I don’t know half of what you’re saying.” Elias holds up a string of Christmas lights. “But we’re getting these, honey.”

It comes out sweet like caramel and too serious to be anything but sarcastic, so you push the cart into his heels. Elias simply laughs and continues on his way.

The department store is busy, which is exactly why you usually try to avoid going there in December. You’d think Elias, being Elias Pettersson, would also try to avoid crowds, but it’s like people don’t see anything but Rudolph; nobody recognizes him as he skillfully pushes his way through the crowds, putting stuff into the cart that you barely know what to do with.

You’re thankful for it. It would be awkward if people did recognize him, and it’s strange to notice that that would be the thing to do it; there’s no awkwardness now, with him making snarky remarks at the quality of the ornaments or the fact that Canadians apparently love what he calls the ‘tacky’ side of Christmas.

In fact, you almost find that you’re enjoying yourself. It might as well be a Christmas miracle after all.

“When was the last time you had a tree?” Elias asks.

Your brain short circuits for a full five seconds, and then when you answer Elias stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head.

“Uh, probably when I still lived with my parents and they got it?”

“We’re changing that right now.” He spins on his heels and speed walks in the direction of the trees, too fast for you to protest.

You think of the last time you got a Christmas tree and an involuntary shiver makes its way down your spine. There’s a good reason you don’t like Christmas, and the tree plays a crucial part in it.

But Elias doesn’t know that. So you can’t even blame him for looking excited when he somehow manages to find you the perfect size tree for your apartment – even without ever having been in your apartment.

“This one,” he says smugly, but when he notices your expression, his face falls. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow. You could tell him, now, tell him about the last time your dad went to get a tree and never came back.

But that’s a long time ago and there’s no reason for Elias to know that. He’s not your friend, and he’d probably not even care. If anything, he’d feel sorry for you, and that would be even worse.

“That one is fine,” you tell him, and you promise yourself you just won’t put it up.

The tree gets your mood down but Elias doesn’t seem to notice. He collects some more stuff, like a throw blanket with Christmas pattern that you actually don’t mind, because you’re always cold and a person can never have too many throw blankets.

He also puts in an ornament with the Canucks logo, which you want to use to slap the smirk off his face, and a Rudolph pluche toy with a red light up nose.

“Like you, when it’s cold,” he teases, flicking your nose, and you wonder if you could use the Christmas lights to strangle him.

Finally, when you approach the end of your trip, you realize a teeny tiny problem.

“Uhm, Elias?” you ask, “I think we may have gotten too much.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “Brock said you don’t have any decorations, so this is the perfect amount.”

And it would be – if you wanted Christmas decorations – except…

“I can’t afford this,” you snap, and you can feel your cheeks heat up, and maybe the tips of your ears as well. God, this is embarrassing.

Elias’ face softens, and that kinda just makes it worse.

“You’re not paying for it,” he says, not unkindly. “This wasn’t your idea.”

“It wasn’t yours either,” you remind him. Granted, a bill like this would hardly break the bank for Elias, but you’re not about to let him pay for you just because he feels bad. You let Brock buy you dinner sometimes but that’s it, and only because he actually likes your company and because he always wants to eat at stupid fancy restaurants.

This is Elias. He doesn’t value your company, and he’s not your friend, and you won’t let him pay for you.

Elias doesn’t say anything, eyes searching your face for something. You’re not quite sure what he finds, but finally, he speaks.

“Consider it my Christmas gift to you,” he says. “You can pay me back by making me lunch, cause I’m hungry.”

And strangely enough, the thought of spending another two hours with Elias doesn’t make you wanna hurl, or throw yourself in front of oncoming traffic. In fact, you’re surprised to note that you actually had fun on this trip, and it was mostly thanks to Elias’ dry commentary on the other shoppers, of which not one sentence failed to make you laugh.

You don’t believe in Christmas stories, like the one where some weird technical glitch in the matrix gets fixed just in time for the Christmas tree in the center of town to light up, just as the guy and girl figure out their complicated emotional differences.

But maybe you can allow yourself to not actively dislike Elias’ company, at least while you’re stuck with it.

There’s exhaustion settled deep inside your bones, like your feet are made of concrete as you somehow manage to drag yourself up the stairs. You don’t usually mind living in a bit of a shit hole building, considering the fact that it’s very cheap – but on nights like these you wish there was an elevator you could take.

Working out in the morning before taking a double shift at the coffee shop you work at was a bad idea.

It takes you a few seconds to find your keys in your bag. It’s late enough at night that you can’t really see much; there’s lights in the hallways but most of them don’t really work, the flickering glow of them barely enough to illuminate the ceilings.

When you open the door, you instantly notice there’s something wrong.

Or, wrong… That might not be the right word. The word that comes to mind, actually, is fuck.

You’d forgotten all about Elias.

After buying all the Christmas decorations, he kept bothering you about putting them up. You hadn’t really been planning to, and unfortunately Elias knew you well enough to somehow know that.

Nobody reads you as well as he does, like his blue eyes pierce right through your skin and stare straight into your heart. It’s one of the things you find most unsettling about him. Keeping things close to your heart has always been your way to cope, but it felt impossible to do that with Elias around.

He’d kept asking you if you were gonna put up the decorations and you kept waving him away, until he finally decided he had enough.

“I’m coming over tomorrow,” he’d said – or, threatened. “Brock gave me your spare key, so you don’t have a say in this. I’m putting up the tree.”

“Don’t you dare,” you’d answered, making a mental note to deal with Brock’s traitorous ass later. “I can put up my own tree.”

You could, you just weren’t planning to do it.

“You could, but you won’t,” Elias had said, unimpressed. “So be there or don’t be there, I’m doing it.”

You had totally meant to be there. You weren’t as much of an asshole that you would let him do all the work after he also paid for it, and he was technically doing you a favor. But then your colleague asked you to cover her shift, and, well…

You forgot. And clearly, Elias hadn’t.

In the corner of your tiny little living room is a pine tree. There’s no ornaments in it except for the Canucks one that Elias bought you, but there’s what seems to be about a thousand lights in it, and it must’ve taken him hours to put those in.

It’s not even just that. The Rudolph toy is sitting on your bookcase, there’s candles on your dining table and on the couch is the Christmas throw blanket.

Under the blanket is Elias.

His head is resting on the arm of the couch, blond hair a little messy. His eyes are closed, eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, and he looks strangely peaceful.

You feel something settle in your stomach.

You imagine him sitting on your couch, waiting for you to come home because he wanted to see your reaction. You can imagine his little smug grin as he took in his work, way too proud with a simple string of lights in a Christmas tree. And maybe, maybe, he even thought about you celebrating Christmas here with the place looking exactly like this, and maybe that made him smile.

And then you didn’t show up.

You wonder if you should wake him, to kick him out of your apartment, tease him for waiting for you, or even to say thank you. But his chest is rising slowly with every steady breath, and you’ve never seen Elias look so tranquil, so at peace.

For some reason, waking him feels like a crime.

So you step closer and tug the blanket a little more over his shoulders. You tell yourself it’s because the place gets so stupidly cold at night, and you can’t have him get sick and have a miserable Christmas because Brock would kill you, but you know it’s not about that at all.

It’s about the fact that coming home to a cozy, decorated apartment after the exhausting day you’ve had was actually pretty nice. And it’s about the fact that for some reason, Elias’ sleeping figure on your couch makes the place feel more like home than it has ever before.

And maybe it’s because the night is dark, and Elias can’t hear or see you, but when you whisper: “Goodnight” into the quiet living room, it sounds a lot like thank you.

When you wake up, there’s the smell of pancakes in the air. It’s a smell you would recognize anywhere, and it startles you awake too quickly for it being so early in the morning. You nearly jump out of bed and follow your nose towards the kitchen.

If anyone would’ve asked, you would’ve bet money on it that Elias would’ve woken up on your couch annoyed as hell, and booked it out of there as soon as his legs could carry him. But somehow, like a mirage, he’s standing at your stove, making pancakes.

Are you dreaming?

“Am I dreaming?” you ask out loud, and Elias swirls around on his heels.

“Don’t scare me,” he snaps, annoyed, but the annoyance flows away within seconds. “I was hungry.”

“So you made pancakes?”

Elias laughs softly. “I can’t make much else with what’s in your kitchen. You need to go grocery shopping.”

You really do, but you can’t think about that right now. Not when Elias is standing in your kitchen like he owns the place, like it’s normal for him to be there.

It very much is not. So why doesn’t it feel wrong?

“Uhm.” If he’s here, you figure you should at least be polite. “Do you want coffee?”

He waves towards your coffee machine. “I already put it on.”

You stay quiet as you make the coffee, a little too aware of the way Elias moves pancake after pancake from the pan to the stack, movements relaxed and almost lazy. It’s Sunday morning and it’s not that late, but it feels like it could be one of those mornings that stretches out endlessly, dark grey clouds outside your apartment as Vancouver slowly wakes up.

Neither of you speak until you’ve sat down at the table, pancakes and coffee in front of you. It’s awfully domestic and you don’t know what to do with it: it’s become easy to snap or snark at Elias when Brock’s there as a middle man and Elias looks like he’d rather cut off both his legs than spend another minute in your presence, but it’s not like that now.

Now, Elias seems quietly content to sit in your kitchen eating pancakes that he made on your stove while you were asleep. Now, Elias seems completely comfortable scrolling through his phone while you stare at him. And this Elias, you have no idea what to do with.

“We’re gonna do something Christmassy today,” Elias says, between two bites of pancake. “I’m just trying to figure out what.”

You raise an eyebrow. It’s been only a week since Brock had the awful idea to make Elias teach you how to be in the Christmas spirit before booking it to Minnesota, and so far Elias has seemingly put way too much time and effort into it, while you haven’t even put one word in your empty word document, that you ironically titled ‘Not a typical Christmas story’.

Then you remember the night at Jake’s party, and how Elias said he wouldn’t have much to do once all the guys went home to their families.

Suddenly, you feel for him. You know what it’s like to be lonely.

“The Christmas market isn’t on today,” Elias continues, oblivious to your mental dialogue. “But we’re going there soon. And we need to watch a bunch of Christmas movies.”

You hesitate. Are you really going to do this?

“I might have an idea for today.”

Apparently you are.

Elias’ eyes finally focus on you, expression curious. He doesn’t say anything but he’s clearly waiting for you to continue, so you take a deep breath and go for it.

“I’ve never gone skating.”

An hour later you’re at the local outdoor ice rink, and it’s not until you see the crowd that you realize this might’ve not been your smartest idea. It’s Sunday, it’s December, it’s not awfully cold: you think at least 1/3rd of Vancouver is at this rink.

“Uhm, I might not have thought this through,” you state a little bashfully. You can already see a few Canucks jerseys on the ice, and although you can’t see the back that well you wouldn’t be surprised if a bunch of them carried the number 40.

Elias shrugs. He seems unbothered, but then he mostly does. You can never really read him, and it’s one of the things you find most unnerving about him.

“It’ll be fine,” he says. “I’m wearing my glasses.”

He is wearing his glasses, which he rarely does. You’re not even sure he needs them or if they’re just a fashion statement. He’s also wearing a hat, so maybe he’s thought this through more than you.

But surely just glasses and a snapback won’t stop Vancouver from recognizing the Canucks biggest star?

Apparently, it does.

Elias goes to rent the skates, because he couldn’t be bothered to go back to his apartment to get his own. He’s put them on within 20 seconds, while you’re still struggling to wiggle your foot into the first one.

He laughs and you shoot him a deathly glare.

“Don’t laugh at me! We can’t all be professional hockey players.”

“I don’t think you need to be a professional anything to lace up a skate,” Elias answers dryly. He turns to face you, then pats his leg. “Give me your foot.”

It’s embarrassing to make Elias tie your skates, but it would be more embarrassing to ignore him and then spend 20 minutes struggling with them. So you swing your foot into his lap.

Long fingers work swiftly around your laces, and suddenly your skate is tied, fitted closely around your ankle. Elias pats your shin, then holds out his hand for the other foot.

You swing your second leg into his lap.

“I don’t know how you do this so fast,” you mutter. You can feel the flush on your cheeks and you hope Elias assumes it’s because of the cold.

“I’ve got many talents,” Elias deadpans, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

“Juggling, unicycle riding, and lacing skates?”

Elias nods. There’s a smile tugging at his lips. “All very important skills.”

Finally, you put your skates back on the floor and waggle towards the door to. the rink. Elias has jumped onto the ice before you can even think about moving.

You stop. Is this really a good idea? You could break both your legs here.

“Don’t be scared,” Elias says, correcting guessing the root of your hesitation. He’s gliding on his skates with ease, shuffling back and forth the way hockey players always do during the anthems.

Because he’s waiting. For you. Because you’re going skating together.

This is the weirdest fucking thing that’s ever happened to you, kinda like a fever dream; and that’s enough motivation to step onto the ice.

You stumble a bit, and Elias reaches out to grab your elbow to steady you.

“Careful, it’s slippery.”

“Unsurprisingly,” you mumble beneath your breath, and Elias’ grin goes a little wicked before he promptly lets go off your elbow and slides back.

Bastard. But the ice is slippery and you’re not steady on your skates, so you scramble forward only just enough to reach Elias again, wrapping your hands tightly around his arm.

“Do not let go,” you hiss.

“Do not be a smartass,” he shoots back, but thankfully he doesn’t move away again. Instead, he carefully takes both your hands away from his arm and takes them into his own, turning so he’s skating backwards and pulling you along.

If you don’t have to move your own feet, moving is a lot more fun, and you feel yourself loosening up. Every now and then you stumble, but Elias’ grip on you is firm and he never wavers, even when you yank on his hands to pull yourself upright again.

You’ve always noticed how graceful Elias is on the ice. There’s something about him when he skates that has always caught your attention, even if you would never admit that to him. But without the hockey gear, it’s even more clear how elegant he moves.

You, not so much.

“You better not be laughing at me,” you grumble, a little annoyed that you have to cling onto Elias as a lifeline in order not to break your neck.

Elias raises an eyebrow. “I never do that.”

It should sound sarcastic but it really doesn’t, and you wonder if he’s momentarily forgotten every single interaction you’ve had with him over the past year.

Your expression must speak volumes because he rolls his eyes. He swiftly moves, so he’s skating next to you instead of in front.

He’s still holding your hand.

“I never laugh at you,” he clarifies. “I laugh because you’re funny. It’s different.”

And, oh. That does something to your stomach, something that you probably shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

Elias doesn’t seem to want to dwell on it either, because suddenly he pulls his hand away, skating a bit to the front to where you can’t reach him.

“You can do it on your own,” he calls over his shoulder, a cheeky smile playing around his lips.

And it turns out you can: you don’t fall, you keep moving – albeit a lot slower than Elias – and it’s actually kinda fun.

You can do it on your own, but. It was more fun with Elias next to you, anyway.

When Elias texts you to tell you you’re going to the Christmas market that night, you haven’t seen him in three days.

But you’ve been texting. He’s been sending you stupid Christmas songs that you mostly don’t listen to, and Christmas movies you’d prefer to never see. You send him ideas for cliché Christmas stories that you can almost hear his disapproving snort for.

Santa becomes a prima donna and holds Christmas hostage until his ego is stroked in the form of songs written in his honor by reindeer who are willing to give their very lives for the cause.

Elias’ answer comes swift.

No. That has definitely been done before and also, someone could call animal services.

When Brock asks you how you’re liking your time with Elias, when you FaceTime him during dinner, you fall into silence.

What are you gonna tell him? That you smile every time you see his name pop up on your phone? That you have no idea anymore why you didn’t like him all that time? That you now understand what he meant when he used to say “Petey just needs a little time”?

“It’s going,” you hum noncommittally, chopping another carrot.

Brock laughs. “You’re so full of bullshit. I can literally see you trying to hide a smile. You realized I’m right, didn’t you?”

“You need to shut up,” you tell him without any heat. “We’re civil. He’s bored, I’m in the middle of writer’s block crisis. We’re not getting married, Boes, it’s just better than doing nothing the whole week you’ve deserted me.”

“Sure,” Brock drawls, and it doesn’t sound like he believes you at all.

“How’s the pups?” you ask, and Brock laughs because that wasn’t even slightly subtle for a topic change. He clearly decides to let you, however, starts talking about Milo’s new habit of burying people’s gloves in the yard.

The thing is, you don’t really wanna talk about Elias with Brock when you don’t even know yourself what you think of him yet. Fine, you don’t hate him, that’s clear. You’ve realized his air of indifference is just a shield, a wall that crumples as soon as he laughs. His teasing remarks are familiar now, feel friendly the way they feel when they come from Brock, and you’ve realized he’s one of the funniest, smartest, and kindest people you know.

But Brock would just push it into something it’s not. When he comes back, you’ll probably go back to being ‘Brock’s friend’ instead Elias’, and you wouldn’t be surprised if everything goes back to the way things were. Maybe with less animosity, but when Elias has a bunch of different people to choose from, why would he choose to hang out with you?

But for now, he doesn’t have any other people to hang out with and he does choose to hang out with you, and you’re hit once again with how weird that is when you step into his car the next evening.

“Dude, it’s way too cold to be going outside,” you grumble, shutting the door of his car behind you. Inside the car it’s warm and cozy, and Elias has an amused expression on his face when he turns to you.

“Good evening,” he deadpans, “I’m good, thank you, how are you?”

“Right.” You can feel your cheeks flush and hope he thinks it’s because of the heat in the car. “Sorry.”

Elias laughs. “It’s not that cold,” he chides, pulling the car into the road. “You just didn’t dress properly.”

You look down at yourself. You thought you’d dressed quite warm, but there’s an icy chill in the air that promises a chance of snow, so maybe it’s not warm enough. You didn’t even take gloves, you realize now, or a hat.

Well.

Elias is grinning while he stares ahead at the road, and you kinda wanna smack him except for how it also makes you smile. He’s dressed a lot warmer than you, and with the scarf almost up to his chin and a beanie on his head there’s not much risk of him being recognized anywhere.

“I brought extra gloves,” Elias says, then. “You’re not gonna be able to enjoy it if your hands are cold.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Elias, not to be a downer, but we’re going to a busy market that revolves entirely around Christmas, and I don’t like Christmas or crowds. I don’t think I’m gonna enjoy myself either way.”

“We’ll see,” Elias says simply, and it sounds like a promise.

It’s easy to keep up the conversation on the way there, light teasing from you and genuine interest from him. It’s comfortable, both the warmth in the car and Elias’ laugh next to you, and when he parks the car you almost don’t wanna get out.

At least he does have gloves for you, and he gives you a scarf, so you’re not that cold when you step out into the night air.

The Christmas market is busy, hoards of happy people looking for some Christmas cheer. You stick close to Elias’ side: if you lose him in this crowd, you’ll never find him back.

At least it’s pretty. The sky is already dark but the Christmas market has been lit up with seemingly millions of lights in every color imaginable.

“I don’t think purple is very Christmassy,” you say, flicking a purple light hanging off the stall that Elias is browsing.

“I prefer the white ones,” he answers, eyes kept firmly on the handmade ornaments in the stall. “They look like stars.” He turns, holding out an ornament. It’s a glass star, and it reflects the lights like a kaleidoscope.

It’s, objectively, beautiful. You don’t have to like Christmas to love it, but when you reach out for it, Elias laughs and pulls it out of your reach.

“I thought we decided you’re not to be trusted with glass.”

He’s referencing a time long ago, when you were hanging out with Brock and he happened to be there, and you dropped a glass and Brock had made a whole spectacle of it.

To be fair, you hadn’t really put Elias in the memory you keep of that day, because he was simply there: as Brock’s friend, as someone who happens to linger in the background. He’s lingering in the background of many memories, you realize now, but you’re starting to realize you prefer the ones where he’s front and center.

You walk past more stalls, filled with either tacky Christmas stuff – you buy Brock some socks with Santa on them because you can’t not – or handmade things, which you actually like looking at. Elias buys some things for his parents – “I’ll send them to Sweden,” he says, and he looks a little too sad so you start chatting about how Rouss kinda resembles a reindeer, somehow.

You’re walking past the food stalls when Elias asks: “How’s the writing going?”

You freeze. That’s not a question you were ready for, and it leads to the inevitable urge to blurt out the truth. “I haven’t started. I just don’t think I can.”

Elias’ eyes on you are thoughtful, like he’s searching for something in your soul. If he tries hard enough, you think he’ll look right through you: nobody has ever made you feel so open, so visible, as he does.

“Brock didn’t tell you why I don’t like Christmas, did he?”

“No,” Elias admits, “but I figured it was a better reason than red is not your color.”

“Hey!” you protest, stepping to the side so you can bump your shoulder against his. “Red is totally my color!”

It’s not, but Elias doesn’t push it. Instead, he smiles warmly, and suddenly you want to tell him.

“When I was young, my parents used to fight a lot. One day, two weeks before Christmas, they got into a massive fight. I listened to them from my bedroom and then my dad came upstairs and told me he was going to find me the perfect Christmas tree. He got in his car and went to get the tree, or so I thought. I never saw him again.”

You sigh. “It’s not, like… I’m over it, mostly. I just can’t help but feel that same feeling every year around Christmas. It’s like hoping for something you know will never happen. Like you’re reading a book and the happy ending never comes. ”

“That’s why it’s hard to write the story,” Elias hazards a guess. He looks curious, but he doesn’t look like he feels bad for you, which is what you would’ve disliked the most.

He points to one of the stalls, then. “They make the best hot chocolate in town. Want one?”

You nod, following him towards the stall as you continue talking. “It is. But I do also find Christmas stories boring to write. It’s always the same concept, just in a million different ways.”

Elias smiles. “That’s the fun of it, no? You know the happy ending always comes. It makes you feel good.”

“It’s boring,” you repeat, stubbornly. “The girl from the big city with a job paying upwards of 8 figures goes back to her hometown for Christmas and somehow falls for some high school fling who still lives in a basement, but makes a mean cup of hot chocolate and says thing like ‘What can I say? I was stupid.’” You cross your arms. “You can’t tell me if we took the Christmas element away you would voluntarily read that story.”

Elias laughs. “Some people would. Isn’t that basically the story from The Notebook?”

“Have you ever watched The Notebook, Elias?” you frown, and he shrugs.

“No, but Brock said it made him cry.”

Which isn’t surprising, because a lot of movies have made Brock cry. You wonder what Elias would do if you put on The Notebook on your upcoming Christmas movie night.

Elias turns around, then, two steaming cups of hot chocolate in his hands. He smirks when he hands it to you.

“What can I say? I was stupid,” he quotes, and you can’t help but giggle as you take the cup from him.

“You didn’t make this, you just paid for it. It doesn’t count that way.”

“After this we should probably go,” he says then, glancing at his watch.

The words sink into your stomach like a heavy stone of dread; you don’t really want to go home, and the realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You’re happy, right now, and if ‘feeling Christmassy’ basically translates to feeling happy, well…

It’s not Christmas, though, that’s got you feeling this way. You could care less about the pine trees and the tacky music and the reindeer and the big man with the white beard and red hat.

You care more about the blonde man beside you, staring into the distance with the brightest blue eyes, and the way he somehow always makes you laugh.

Damn it. How much you hate it when Brock is right.

With Brock telling you how much Elias likes Christmas movies, and Elias having pushed you for this Christmas movie marathon for days on end, you were expecting a bit more excitement from him when it finally happens.

You can tell something is wrong from the moment you open the door. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets, and when he smiles at you it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he says softly, moving past you into your apartment.

“I hope you’re ready to rewatch the same exact movie with only minor differences all night,” you joke, but Elias doesn’t even look up as he methodically pulls off his coat, kicks off his shoes and pitter patters into your living room.

He scoffs when he sees your tree, still empty except for the Canucks ornament that he got you.

“Really?” he asks, and for the first time in a while you can’t tell if he’s joking or actually upset with you.

This is the Elias that you knew before, the one that you didn’t like because you could never reach him, guarding his heart like a fort. But this time, you know what it’s like to have the other Elias, and you already miss having that Elias in your life.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you bring out, and it comes out a bit shaky. Elias turns around and his face softens slightly.

“I didn’t mean that.” He sighs. “I nearly canceled this.”

Your heart sinks.

“I get grumpy when I’m not feeling good and I don’t want to take it out on you.” He sinks down onto your couch, kicks his feet up on the coffee table like he’s been there a million times before. “But I didn’t wanna cancel, so. I didn’t.” He sounds almost helpless, like he’s not sure if he should be saying what he’s saying.

But your traitorous heart lifts immediately. If he didn’t want to cancel, it means he wants to be here, and that’s really all you need to know.

“Well, I’m gonna make popcorn, then,” you say, keeping your voice light. “You pick the movie. I don’t care. They’re all the same anyway.”

Elias rolls his eyes, but it’s good natured. “They’re not the same!” he calls after you as you disappear into the kitchen.

“Every Christmas movie ever was written by someone who didn’t know what to write,” you tell him, knowing he can still hear you from the kitchen – the benefits of living in a tiny apartment. “Writer’s block? No problem. The solution: a little bit of Christmas magic. ‘We can’t pay the rent’, ‘I’m sick’, ‘My boss is making me work on Christmas’. Poof, with a jingle of bells, problems solved in the form of a generous benefactor, aspirin, or a hit man.”

“If that’s the case, why can’t you write a Christmas story?” Elias calls back teasing, and you give him the finger through the wall.

He might not see it, but you’re certain he can feel it.

You take the popcorn and walk back to the couch, letting yourself drop onto it next to Elias. You misjudge the distance a bit, causing you to sit a little too close to Elias for it to be strictly friendly; but Elias doesn’t budge, so you don’t move either.

You’re pressed against Elias shoulder to thigh, and you can feel his body shake when he laughs.

“I like this cliché,” he says, nodding towards the television. “Let’s see if you can guess it.”

You watch the movie in relative silence, eating popcorn and enjoying the warmth of Elias body against yours. You have to admit you lose focus every now and then: the movie isn’t that bad, but it’s hard to focus on anything with Elias so close. Every now and then, when something funny happens, he exhales a sharp breath of laughter, and sometimes he hums as if he’s agreeing with what’s happening on screen.

He smells nice, too, and finally you get tired enough that you get a little brave: you let your head drop against his shoulder, tugging your feet under yourself.

“Figured it out, yet?” Elias asks softly.

“Yep,” you answer. The movie is nearing the end but you figured it out within the first ten minutes. “Basic physics, not to mention common sense, are thrown to the wind as Christmas repeats every day, disappears from the calendar, or is hurled into the past or future.”

Elias doesn’t respond, and suddenly you wanna know.

“Are you okay?” It’s probably a weird question, and very out of the blue, so you hurry trying to explain. “Cause you came in very sad, and like, if you don’t wanna talk about it with me that’s fine but I think it’s good to talk about things sometimes so if you wanna…”

“I’m fine,” Elias says, cutting you off, but it doesn’t sound dismissive. It sounds a little amused, and when you turn to look at him, you find him smiling. “Worried about me?”

And it’s the strangest thing, but you are. “A little.”

Elias’ face softens. “I promise I’m okay,” he says. He reaches out, then, places his hand on yours and squeezes. “I just talked to my parents before I came here, on Skype, and they were talking about Christmas and it sucks that I can’t see them for the holidays. But it is what it is.” He shrugs. “I sulk for a bit and then I move on.”

You never really go home for the holidays, but you understand how awful it must be to be stuck alone in Canada with your whole family in Sweden.

You blame the quiet, late night energy for what comes out of your mouth next.

“I think I could be convinced to make you a Christmas dinner if you ask nicely.”

Elias laughs, and his hand is warm when you turn your palm up and he laces his fingers through yours.

“If I ask nicely, will you watch another movie with me right now?”

You pull the Christmas themed throw blanket over your legs before letting your head drop against Elias’ shoulder once again.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

“I have an idea,” Elias says through the phone, and you don’t quite recognize the tone in his voice at first. “Well, it was Brock’s idea, but I think it’s a good one.”

Anything that was Brock’s idea immediately fills you with doubt, and you frown. “What?”

That’s when you realize: Elias sounds excited.

“Brock knows someone with a cottage, about two hours from here. It’s in the forest and it’s supposedly very Christmassy. We should go for a night.”

He sounds quietly pleased, and you don’t have the heart to tell him no.

“Okay.”

Objectively, though, it’s an awful idea. A Christmassy cottage in the forest also sounds like it would be very romantic, and you’ve finally come to terms with the fact that what you feel for Elias is definitely not just friendly comradery at this point. Feeding this feeling would not be smart, considering the fact that it’s almost Christmas and after that you’ll most likely never spend time with Elias like this again.

Sure, he might be at parties with the other Canucks or Brock might invite him for drinks with you, but it won’t be like this. You’re not stupid enough to think this will last: that would be a real Christmas miracle, and Christmas miracles don’t exist.

“Sometimes I wish I could read your mind.” Elias’ voice startles you despite the fact that his words come out softly. It’s been quiet in the car, apart from the low murmur of the radio in the background, for a good fifteen minutes.

You’re on your way to the cottage and your thoughts are going a million miles per hour.

You look over at Elias. He’s staring ahead at the road, one hand on the wheel and the other in his lap. He looks relaxed. Comfortable.

“It’s usually nothing interesting,” you say, and you thank the universe that he can’t know what’s going on in your mind.

“Are you thinking about your story?” he asks, and you weren’t, but it’s as good an excuse as any.

“I’ve gotta email it to my professor in four days,” you admit. “And I haven’t put a single word on paper yet.”

You’ve tried, that’s for sure. You’ve spent hours on your laptop, staring at a Word document. You’ve typed sentences and deleted them, tried to outline the story or just wing it while typing. Nothing works, nothing feels right when it stares back at you from the screen.

Elias hums noncommittally. “I think you think about it too much,” he says. “Just don’t worry about it. And write what you know.”

You scoff. “I don’t think anyone wants to read a Christmas story about a father who bails on his family, Elias. Nobody likes sad Christmas stories.”

He smiles. “Any sad Christmas cliches on your list?”

“Each and every event, whether holiday related or not, is tainted through the loss of a dead relative. Example: “Can I have a glass of water?” “Your, uh, *swallow*, your grandmother used to drink water.””

Elias laughs before reaching for the radio and turning up the music. You never listen to Christmas music, as a rule, but somehow you don’t hate it now that it’s blasting through his stupid sports car, the world flying past you through the window.

The drive is filled with Elias humming along to Christmas music and you laughing whenever he pulls a face at one of the lyrics. You spend at least 30 minutes debating if ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ should still be allowed on the radio – no – and whether or not Michael Buble is the king of Christmas – in Europe, apparently yes.

By the time you reach the cottage, you feel a lot more positive.

Until you see it.

“Uhm,” you bring out, staring at the place in front of you. Elias barks out a laugh, but it sounds mostly disbelieving.

“When Brock said ‘cottage in the forest’, I pictured something different,” he says sheepishly.

“I guess this shows the power of speech?” you offer. “Like, ‘cottage in the forest’ and you think of this beautiful rustic romantic getaway. But this is more ‘cabin in the woods’: I think we’re about to get murdered.”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Romantic?” he repeats, an amused tilt to his voice, and you nearly get back in the car.

Way to put your foot in your mouth.

Luckily for you Elias doesn’t dwell on it. Instead he wanders inside, where at the very least it looks a little better.

It’s cold, and there’s no working electricity, but there’s a fireplace and a billion candles, and it’s decorated quite cosy. Maybe even Christmassy, if you really squint: although you’re happy to notice there’s no tree.

It’s easier than you thought it would be, to spend an evening in some dodgy cabin with Elias. It’s easy to chat about everything and nothing, to cook dinner with him. How domestic it feels to tease him about how slowly he chops the mushrooms, while he somehow makes sure your wine glass is always full.

Silence doesn’t fall until long after dinner. The fireplace is on, fickle candle light giving the room an orange glow. You’ve somehow ended up with your feet in Elias’ lap, although you can’t remember how they got there: you’re painfully aware of the heavy grip of his hand around your ankle.

The wine has given your brain a nice fuzzy feeling, has softened up the edges around your thoughts. And all you can think, now, is how nice this is: to have Elias right there next to you, blue eyes fixed on the ember flames burning in front of you.

“I’m glad that Brock kept forcing us to hang out,” you say, without thinking. Elias glances over at you.

“Forcing us?” he repeats, as if he’s not sure what you mean.

You shrug. “Come on, Elias, we didn’t like each other before this. You probably didn’t want to hang out with me as much as I didn’t want to hang out with you.”

The words hang heavy in the air for a second. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear you saw Elias flinch.

“Actually,” he says tightly, and your heart does a traitorous swoop. “Brock never forced me to come. I always asked. If I knew he was gonna see you, I asked to come along.”

The words hit you like a freight train. You can feel your heart beating in your chest. But surely there’s no way you’ve been wrong all this time?

Brock did say Elias didn’t hate you.

“But… I thought you didn’t like me.” Your voice sounds small in the quiet room. It feels different here, so far away from the city: when the night is so silent all your thoughts sound so loud.

Elias shrugs. He doesn’t look upset, per se, but his face is carefully closed off and you know now that’s not a good sign.

“I know you thought that,” he says, voice flat. “I know that first night I came off as rude.” His smile is wry. “I was nervous, I didn’t really speak English, and you’re very pretty. I guess it was a recipe for disaster, on my end, so it doesn’t surprise me you didn’t like me.”

You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks, your heart pounding in your throat. You’re hearing his words but they sound almost foreign, and you can’t quite believe he’s really saying them.

“I’ve always liked you, though,” Elias adds, almost as an afterthought, carelessly like it doesn’t matter. Like he doesn’t know what that does to you, your mind going into overdrive.

You’re not an easy person to like. That’s not you being hard on yourself, you just know you judge too harshly, react too quickly. You go into downwards spirals of negative thoughts, you put opinions into people’s mouths, and most of all, you don’t believe in happily ever after.

People, in your experience, don’t stick around for people who won’t promise them happily ever after.

But Elias is here, having brought you to this cabin, having pushed and pushed to be around you: and you didn’t even notice. You thought he was just doing Brock a favor, you thought he was just bored. He’s not been very outgoing about his affections, but you can tell that they’re there; from the way he’s put up your Christmas tree to how he always listens to every word that falls from your lips. No, he’s not been very outgoing about with his affections but he’s been plentiful with them, and you just didn’t notice.

“Elias,” you start, but the sentence dies on your lips when he turns to face you, suddenly a lot closer than he was before.

“What about now?” he asks. You must look as confused as you feel, because he clarifies right away. “What do you think about me now?”

There’s nothing unsure about the question, and you think the answer is been pretty clear. You wouldn’t be here if the answer wasn’t clear. But despite that, despite that he seems to already know what you’re gonna say, you wanna say it anyway. You think you have to say it anyway.

“Now I like you,” you tell him, sitting up straighter. “I really like you, Elias.”

The last thing you register is the pleased smile tugging at the edges of Elias’ mouth, and then his lips are against yours.

The kiss is soft but not hesitant. Maybe he’s giving you time to think about it, this way, if this is what you want: but in that moment there’s nothing you want more, nothing but a fierce desire to trace your hands down his body.

As soon as your fingers touch his arm, Elias deepens the kiss. He kisses exactly how you would expect him to; giving you everything, no trace of doubt or hesitation.

There’s nothing frantic about it, nothing scary. With every second that ticks by you fall a little further into it, your mind a lovely shade of blank – with the exception of the boy in front of you, like all your nerves screaming his name.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice is soft as he pulls away. He doesn’t take his hands away from where they’re laying against the bare skin of your back. “We don’t have to go further.”

He’s giving you an out, you realize, a second to gather your thoughts. You could pull away now, you could put some space between the two of you.

You scoot forward, moving even more into his lap, and carefully curl your hand around his jaw. He leans into it slightly, and your heart screams with how much you want him.

You don’t answer. Even as a writer, you realize that words are sometimes overrated. Instead, you press your lips against his, placing your heart in his hands as you kiss him once more.

It takes about two hours after you get back to your apartment for the reality of it all to comes crashing down at you.

The night at the cabin was wonderful; magical, even. If you would write the perfect Christmas story, it would be a lot like that.

Except you’re not writing a Christmas story – you should, of course, but you haven’t started and that’s because Christmas stories are unrealistic.

You and Elias, your story - no matter how wonderful – is unrealistic. What were you thinking? That Elias, being who he is, would simply… What? Become your boyfriend?

He’s Vancouver’s biggest star, everyone’s favorite person. You’re just another lonely writer who lives mostly in their own brain. You’re just someone else who is hard to love; like your parents, like your sister, like all the friends you’ve seen get their hearts broken.

You call Brock.

“Wow, calm down,” are the first words that come out of his mouth when he finally speaks. You’ve told him most of the story by then, sentences coming out in shallow breaths and tears already burning in the back of your throat. “What the hell do you mean ‘hard to love’? That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not.” You swallow. “Brock, it’s not real. What I’m feeling. People fall in love all the time and they all believe that’s it, their perfect story, but how often does that story end up a tragedy?”

“Y/N…” He sounds mostly sad. “You can’t live like that.”

But your mind was made up long ago, so long ago when you were just a child. When you saw the tragedy that was your parents love story, and then later it was only settled deeper, when you saw your friends get hurt, when your sister got cheated on.

“I can’t make myself the protagonist of my own tragedy.”

“Petey isn’t going to break your heart.” Brock’s voice is sharp, and you realize this is not a fair position to put him into: how can he be honest to you when that means breaking Elias’ trust?

“He won’t mean to,” you whisper. “But it’ll happen. It might not even be his fault. I’ll probably break my own heart somewhere along the line. But happiness doesn’t just come along this suddenly, Boes.”

“What is it does?” Brock asks, and you don’t have an answer.

What if it does is less scary what if it doesn’t, and the next few days when Elias calls, you don’t pick up the phone.

You shouldn’t have opened the door.

“You’re avoiding me.” Elias sounds... hurt. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like that. You’ve learned that when he’s upset, he mostly sounds indifferent; locks his emotions behind a wall for nobody to see.

And maybe it’s a testament to how well you know him, now, that you can pick up on the change in his voice. Or maybe it means he’s decided to let you in.

God, you hope it’s not that last one. Hope he didn’t make that mistake.

You sigh. “I’m sorry, but…”

“Don’t.” Elias cuts you off by pushing past you into the apartment. He stands glaring at you in the middle of the living room, arm crossed. “You’re not doing this.”

You have to.

“It’s just not gonna work,” you try. There goes the crack in your heart, bursting open like someone squeezes it with an iron fist.

You’re doing this to yourself. But that’s better than the alternative: better than having Elias do it way further into the story, when there’s something to destroy.

There’s nothing to destroy, now. There’s only the prologue to the story, and now the epilogue. A story with no middle won’t be remembered.

“That’s not true.” Elias isn’t backing down. “You can’t tell me nothing this past month has meant anything to you.” He frowns. “Does this have anything to do with your Christmas thing? Would it be different if this had happened in January?”

You laugh, but there’s no humor there. If only it was that simple.

“This has nothing to do with Christmas, Elias. This just isn’t real. There’s no happy ending to my storyline, and I’m not dragging you down with me.”

You let your eyes fix on him, on the way he stands there stubbornly, still fighting for something. For you. If only it made a difference.

Elias doesn’t say anything, for a while. Finally, voice timid, he says: “You’re gonna throw this away because you’re scared.”

You are scared. But that’s not why you’re doing this.

“Damn it, Y/N.” Frustration rings clear in Elias’ voice, now. “I know you feel what I feel! You can’t just ruin that because you’re not brave enough to say what you want!”

“It doesn’t make a difference, Elias!” You’re hurting too, and you can hear your own voice getting too loud.

“I wanna live in a world where people don’t get hurt, and everyone’s got enough money and nobody ever has to skip a meal!” You swallow, hot tears pricking behind your eyes. “I wanna live in a world where people don’t get in the car to get a Christmas tree and never come back, and I wanna live in a world where Santa’s real, Elias, but that’s just not reality. That’s not how life works.”

Elias’ eyes are dark, his jaw tense. You know you’re not gonna like what he’s got to say before he’s even opened his mouth.

“Maybe not,” he says tightly, “but you live in a world where people can choose to love each other. It doesn’t have anything to do with Santa, or magic. None of those things are real, but love is real, and you can choose to believe in that.”

He grabs his jacket, is walking towards the door before you can even comprehend what he’s saying. At the door, he turns around. His eyes shine with sadness.

“I want to love you, but you have to choose to believe that, too. And if you can’t, then I guess it won’t ever be real.”

When the door closes, the last piece of your heart breaks in two.

“Merry Christmas!”

Brock’s voice is bright and cheery. He’s clearly only just woken up, his blond hair a mess and Milo passed out in his lap.

“It’s not even Christmas yet,” you tease. You curl your legs closer to yourself, your coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. It’s nice to see Brock, even if it’s just over FaceTime.

Getting your heart broken is even worse when you can’t really talk about it to your best friend, because you also broke your best friend’s other best friend’s heart.

It’s a complicated issue, is the thing.

“It’s Christmas Eve tonight,” Brock says, rolling his eyes. “That’s basically Christmas. Are you still moping?”

“Hey,” you protest. “I’m not moping. I’m sad. It’s different.”

You have been moping, a bit. The first two days after your final talk with Elias, you didn’t even really come out of bed. You just sat there and you wrote.

That’s the only good thing to come out of this, you think. You somehow not only wrote your story, it’s maybe the best story you’ve ever written.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Brock’s voice is gentle. “You can talk to me, you know? I won’t use anything you say against you or tell Petey or whatever. He’s been talking to me too.”

Your heart does a somersault. If Elias has been talking to Brock, Brock probably already knows everything; in a way, you can’t believe he’s still talking to you if that’s the case.

More than that, though, it brings an opportunity. To find out what you’ve been wondering since Elias stepped out of your apartment.

“Is he alright?”

“Are you?” Brock counters, like that matters.

You stare at the coffee in your cup. It’s too hot to drink still, little puffs of steam climbing through the air.

You’re not doing so well, admittedly, but that’s probably fair. You were the one to broke off the story, in the end. And you hate to admit it to yourself – and you definitely won’t admit it to Brock – but you’ve been wondering if you made the right choice.

“I wrote my Christmas story,” you say, instead of answering his question. “Handed it in yesterday.”

Brock lets you change the subject. “Cool. What did it ended up being about?”

You sigh. “It was about me.”

Brock raises his eyebrows, interest clear in his eyes. He doesn’t push you, and you’re glad for it. You need a moment to find the words.

“I wrote about a girl who hates Christmas because it reminds her of things that she’s lost. And I wrote about how scared she is of gaining something because that means she can lose it again.”

Brock’s voice is soft when he speaks. “But someone teaches her? In the story?”

He knows you too well. You laugh quietly. “Yes, someone takes her through all these Christmas cliches to make her realize why they’re cliches. It’s not because of the act itself. It’s because you spend time doing it with someone you love.”

“She loves this person, the one that teaches her,” Brock hazards a guess.

There’s no longer any doubt that he knows exactly how you feel about Elias.

“She loves him but that scares her even more. Because if she loves him, she could lose him. And Christmas has always been the time to remind her of loss and heartbreak. So she assumes it’ll just end in hurt this time too.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Brock says.

And you know. Somehow, writing the story, you realized that. Because as you wrote about this girl, that was exactly like you, you found yourself not wanting to give the story a realistic ending. You wanted to make it right, wanted her to end up with the person who taught her how to love Christmas and how to love him.

So you did. You gave your story a happy ending. And in doing that, it’s like you gave yourself permission to want a happy ending for yourself, too.

But there’s just no way. Life isn’t a fairytale, and the Christmas cliché where the girl who throws it all away gets back her perfect boy by stealing Santa’s microphone in the mall and making a grand speech about how pushing him away was the biggest mistake of her life, simply isn’t real life material.

“It’s not too late, you know.” Brock’s sitting up straighter, almost as if he wants to come through the camera and tell you in person. “If you wanted to change the ending. You could. He’d let you.”

Your heart starts beating faster and it has nothing to do with the caffeine you’re drinking.

All this time, you’ve been wondering. Wondering if it’s too late.

“How would I do that?” you ask. “Hypothetically.”

Brock’s grin is so bright you nearly have to close your eyes. “Send him the story,” he says, without thinking about it; the jerk probably has been thinking about this since you started telling him what it’s about. “You should send him the story. Kinda like a message in a bottle.”

When you say goodbye to Brock, his eyes are fond when you tell him “Thank you” and mean it. Without him, you don’t think you would’ve had the courage, but now it feels like the only possible ending comes with you taking your Word document and putting it in an email.

To: [email protected]

Attachment: Not a typical Christmas story.pdf

Message:

Elias,

I’ve tried to write this letter a million times, to tell you what I should’ve said that night. I can’t say I’m not scared what you’ll think, but who am I to know what the future holds? If my heart was paper I’d fold it, throw it to the wind and hope it’d end up in your arms. So here it is, my paper heart, in the form of the most cliché Christmas story of them all. The one where everyone ends up with their perfect happily ever after.

Signed with love from me to you,

Y/N.

There’s three rapid knocks on the door, and then silence.

Your heartbeat speeds up like you heard gunshots instead. Within seconds you’re on your feet, almost running to the door.

There’s only one person that could be at your door on Christmas morning at 9am, right?

When you open it, something heavy dissolves in your stomach, a sense of comfort falling over you like crawling into bed after an exhausting day.

“Elias,” you breathe.

For a second, you just stare at him: he looks like he’s barely slept at all, dark circles surrounding his eyes, which somehow seem more blue than they ever have before.

“Merry Christmas,” Elias says then, thrusting something forward. You grab it in reflex.

It’s the glass star, the ornament from the Christmas market. The one that you had told Elias you found beautiful, the one that reflected all the lights like a million little stars. The one that reminded you, even, of Elias’ eyes.

It’s still beautiful. And suddenly there’s tears running down your cheeks, warm against your skin.

Elias frowns. He looks a little worried, unsure; as if he shouldn’t be here. But God, he is here, on your doorstep, and he brought you this ornament, and you know that it has to mean what you think it does.

“I’m sorry,” you bring out. “For everything, I…”

You can’t finish your sentence, because Elias steps forward, his arms outstretched, and you launch yourself at him like a missile. He catches you easily, presses you against his chest and buries his face in your shoulder.

“I read the story,” he mumbles. You can barely make out the words, but they hit you like a ton of bricks anyway. “You believe in Christmas miracles now?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, because he already knows the answer.

“I don’t know,” you admit. You pull away a little, but keep your arms firmly locked around Elias’ waist, and his hands remain on your back. “But you’re here, so. I think I might have to start.”

Elias laughs, moving closer again to press a kiss against your head. You can feel his lips move against your hair when he speaks. “What about us? You believe in us, now?”

You don’t answer him, but you think he can tell from the way you kiss him, anyway.

You tug the blanket tighter around your shoulders, smiling down at the opposite end of the couch. Elias is talking in Swedish and you don’t understand a word he’s saying, but you can tell that he’s happy, smile bright and eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him.

He’s been talking to his family for the past hour, and watching him has been a great source of entertainment for you. He blushed when his brother mentioned your name, and finally he did introduce you to them.

“This is Y/N, I’m forcing her to watch Christmas movies with me all day and then bake cookies,” he’d laughed, and you didn’t tell him that there’s nothing you’d rather do.

“Jag älskar dig, hejdå,” Elias says, and then he finally closes the laptop. “Hey,” he hums, poking your thigh with his toe, “my mom said she can’t wait to meet you, so. Be warned.”

You laugh. “I would love to go to Sweden. I read something about cakes.”

It feels natural, to crawl over to the other side of the couch and lay down between Elias’ legs, head resting on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat under your ear and it’s enough for your eyes to close on their own accord.

It’s not like you’ve had much sleep the past few nights. But now, you think you could finally sleep peacefully, knowing that Elias is here and he’s not leaving.

His hand moves down your side, sneaking under your sweater, fingertips soft against your skin.

“It’s snowing,” he says, suddenly, and you open your eyes to look out the window.

Indeed, there’s little flurries of white powder fluttering through the grey Vancouver sky.

“That’s too much,” you roll your eyes. “The great grandmother of Christmas cliches.” Elias raises a questioning eyebrow, so you explain. “As the final crisis is resolved, everyone runs out in the street on Christmas Eve to discover that it’s snowing! In Nigeria! During a drought!”

“We’re in Vancouver,” Elias deadpans, and it’s only because you know him so well that you see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “And it’s not Christmas Eve, it’s Christmas Day.”

“Minor details,” you shrug, placing your head back on his chest and closing your eyes again.

“We’ve gotta decorate this sad excuse of a tree.” You can hear the smile in Elias’ voice as he talks. “Two ornaments does not make a Christmas tree.”

“Later,” you hum, curling your fingers into his sweater. “We’ve got all day.”

Elias laughs. “The tree is supposed to be decorated before Christmas, typically.”

You can’t help but smile at that. “We’re not a typical Christmas story, though.”

“Maybe not typical, but still pretty good.” His arms tighten around you and you can feel him press a kiss into your hair.

“Pretty fucking good,” you agree. “If you get me off this couch today it’ll be a Christmas miracle though.”

You shouldn’t have said that: no sooner than the final word leaves your lips you’re being lifted into the air, legs dangling helplessly as Elias throws you over this shoulder. Your giggles come out a little hysterically.

“I told you miracles are real,” he grins, unceremoniously carrying you towards the bedroom.

You’ve just come from there, but you’re really not against the idea of going back.

“What about the tree?” you squeal, lightly slapping his shoulder.

“Tree can wait,” Elias decides, as he dumps you onto the bed and lets himself fall over you, leaning on his forearms so he doesn’t crush you.

“Tree can wait,” you echo in agreement, and you let your body relax into the mattress as Elias kisses you. When he tries to deepen it, you turn away just slightly, keeping your nose pressed against his cheekbone. “Hey, Lias?”

“What?” Elias mutters, sounding a little annoyed to be denied another kiss.

You smile. “Merry Christmas.”

His laughter sounds bright.

“Merry Christmas, babe.”

#eeek im nervous about this one #elias pettersson #elias pettersson fic #elias pettersson one shot #nhl fic

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bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

baby it’s cold outside. katsuki bakugo x reader) christmas headcanons🎄

ೃ pairing: (katsuki bakugo x reader)

ೃ requested by @swankiifiied: “hi! could i get some holiday fluff hcs w/ bakugo please?” (your wish is my command! :D hope you enjoy bub!)

ೃ warnings: cursing (courtesy of Bakugo)

ೃ genre: fluff overload!!! ♡

ೃ my ongoing bakugo x reader smau (please do give it a read if you have time!) my writing masterlist (if you want to see more from me! c:

)ೃ i know i’m a day late for christmas and i’m really sorry aaa hope you guys still enjoy nonetheless ♡ tysm for 500 followers!!! it really means a lot to me and i can never thank any one enough for all the support and love.

ೃ song inspo: baby it’s cold outside (cover by Jamie and Gaho)

✧ MATCHING CHRISTMAS SWEATERSSSS!!! You would be probing and forcing Bakugo to wear this cute couple sweater set you saw in the Mall for you guys to wear for Christmas Dinner with your family. However, Katsuki will 100% disagree with your idea before you can even finish your sentence.

"No way in hell am I wearing some shitty and itchy fleece sweater with you."

“SUKI-KUN PLEASE I BEG YOUUU DO IT FOR THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT.”

You eventually got your way though. But, instead, you had to make a deal with your explosive boyfriend that he would be the one to choose the designs imprinted on your sweaters.

Although it was a "risky deal" at least you still get to be cute and lovey dovey with him.

He ended up choosing some rather unique designs. His sweater was colored black with white skulls in Santa hats printed and plastered in every part of the garment. It was very Bakugo and it looked really really hot good on him.

Yours on the other hand, was the exact opposite of his (although the designs are a couple set) with it's lavender color, Rainbows and cute little white bunnies wearing Santa hats sprinkled everywhere... It was very girly and cutesy.

He's teasing you relentlessly because of how childish your sweater looks, and you snap back at him by saying that he was the one who chose this in the first place and you tease him back by saying "As long as I get to match my outfit with you I wouldn't want it any other way."

This catches him off guard as he blushes furiously from your quip.

It also didn’t help that Bakugo thought you looked really hot cute in your sweater too and how it complimented your figure. Making him even more tsundere than usual.

As soon as he arrives at your Christmas eve dinner, your younger cousins/siblings quickly crowded around him. Showering him with compliments, asking him to showcase his quirk, asking him if he could play with them, what training to become a pro hero is like, and what is life like studying in UA.

You try to tell your cousins/siblings to pipe down and give your boyfriend some space but they continue to circle around Katsuki. Pretending not to hear you.

There was no way out of this and at the same time, Katsuki wanted to impress your family in his own little way so he pompously asks the children to follow him out to the backyard.

You follow suit to see the mayhem and to see a heartwarming scene unfold. Not until your cool wine aunt pulls you over to tell you that you scored a good one and he looks like a keeper. You couldn’t help but smile as you quickly head out to the yard.

You continue to admire the scene of seeing Katsuki interact rather kindly and gently to your younger cousins/siblings. It was an unusual sight.

“Katsuki-nii-san!! Come back for New Year’s and use your quirk to light up our fireworks and new year crackers pretty please!!!”

Especially coming from Katsuki Bakugo. As he was very quick-tempered.

Your cheeky little cousin brought out a mistletoe from her bag and waved it in front of you and Katsuki. She couldn’t hold the mistletoe under the two of you because of how small she was, but she was still pushing the two of you to kiss at the presence of the small plant.

You and Katsuki catch each other’s gaze, and stop to look at each other for a moment waiting for one another to make a move. He looks away, his mouth forming into a pout, trying his best to avoid eye contact with you so it doesn’t look too obvious that he was blushing.

He certainly wasn’t going to make the first move so you approach him dutifully at the behest of the peering eyes of your younger cousins/siblings and tiptoe to peck him on the cheek.

The kids all simultaneously squealed in excitement. They jump for joy and began to sing in unison a song they made up on the spot:

“(Y/N)-nee-san and Bakugo-nii-san under a mistletoe! K.I.S.S.I.N.G.!!!”

Once all the splendor had died down, and all your relatives went home, Katsuki had decided to stay for the night with the permission of your parents as you would be visiting the Bakugo’s in the morning too and the two of you could just go together.

Your family goes up to their respective rooms to rest, leaving you and Bakugo downstairs in the kitchen to clean up a few other things. This was the perfect moment for the two of you to finally have quality time with each other specially after an entire night of socializing.

“Hey (Y/N)... Do you want some hot cocoa?” He says begrudgingly, scratching the back of his neck.

You were screaming internally. This is the first time he’s ever offered to cook/make something like this. (As the only time you’ve seen him cook up to this point was the curry incident during forest training camp.) “Yes please!!!”

You watch him make magic in your kitchen, as he carefully pours milk into both of your cups then proceeds to whisk cocoa powder and sugar, then finally, he heats both of the mugs up.

While he continues to create what looks like the tastiest hot chocolate you have ever seen, you suddenly remembered a joke that has been in your mind since the start of December.

“Katsuki-kun... I have a joke. A Christmas joke at that.”

“Don’t even fucking try.”

“Come onnnnn just hear me outttt.” You look at him with your most cutest puppy eyes and signature smile.

“Fine. Do your worst.”

“Okay so... what is the most attractive drink?”

“Forget what I said. Don’t you dare continue your shitty—”

“A hot chocolate.”

“(Y/N) that is the worst fucking joke I’ve ever heard in my entire life. If you think of one again, then your corny ass is never going to have a taste of this hot cocoa ever again.” He says seriously, piercing you with his death stare as he hands over the mug.

“Ahahahah fine. This will be the last time. I promise.” You laugh sheepishly, taking a sip of the hot cocoa and immediately feel a rush of sweetness and exquisite taste from just one sip alone. “Katsuki-kun! This tastes amazing!! This is the best hot chocolate I’ve had in my entire life.”

“Of course it’s going to taste good. I made it.” He ruffles your hair, his lips curving into a smile because of your reaction to his cooking.

You grab his hand and take him to the living room. The fireplace still lit up, with a classic Christmas movie (Love Actually) playing on the TV, and a comfy and soft blanket sprawled upon the couch. Perfect for the two of you to wrap around yourselves and a perfect chance to cuddle with him.

You sit down on the couch, then Katsuki sitting down beside you shortly after as he swaddles the blanket around the two of you.

You scoot closer to him to the point that you could feel each other’s body heat as the two of you began to snuggle.

It was rather an awkward position as Katsuki had no idea where to hold you and this was all pretty much still new for the both of you. You give him a comforting smile and a supportive nod.

You hear him grunt quietly as he props himself up from the couch. You adjust to his new position too and this time, you were lying on his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close. It was soft and warm. You could feel his strong trained muscles and a faint scent of his cologne.

“Thank you for tonight. For getting along with my family and for spending time with me like this. I really appreciate it.” You snuggle even closer to him, whispering softly.

“Yea yea.” He says in a slight tone of annoyance, trying to brush you off. “Anything for you. And besides, I enjoyed seeing your cousins/siblings stare in awe because of my quirk anyway.” He adds, this time in a sincere and affectionate tone as he plays with your hair again.

The two of you begin to drift off into sleep, the two of you bathed in each other’s warmth in a cold Christmas night and life has never been better.

- Fin.

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ktheist · 3 years

Text

05 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.8k

➙ warnings. mild exhibitionism

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.

“i missed you.”

“i know.”

you steal one last glance at seokjin, the smallest of smirk playing on his lips but before it spreads across his face, he’s already burying it in the crook of your neck, biting and suckling on that one spot that gets you clenching your legs together only to be reminded of the man buried to the hilt in between your thighs.

“hey, tae,” you sing the first word, barely managing to get your best friend’s name out without your voice cracking as seokjin starts to move again, tampering with your sanity.

“hey, where you at?” taehyung baritone rings in your left ear where your phone is pressed and seokjin’s exhaled breath drums in the other.

“uh, in class?” your brain shortcircuits - you can barely offer anything tangible than a two worded reply but that probably has something to do with the hand that clasps over your mouth as you feel the moan about to spill off your lips.

“still? i thought you have class till noon and the rest of the day off on thursdays?” the confusion in taehyung’s voice laces around his words - you can almost hear him scratching his head in confusion whilst his brother’s hands rests on the dip of your waist, pulling out and letting a pause lull in between you, that damned smirk gone from seokjin’s face, replaced with a hazed look that couldn’t care less about the little brother who’s on the phone with the woman he’s about to-

“fu-” you whimper against the mouth that crashes against yours, swallowing your moan.

but the kiss was short-lived.

you push away seokjin’s face to force out an awkward laugh, “yeah, so i forgot i had a replacement class.”

“shit, you just knew?” taehyung sounded like he didn’t mind having a whole conversation with you while you were in your fake class.

“i mean,” you breathe out softly when seokjin’s thumb grazes your erected nub, “i think the professor mentioned it some time ago? i don’t know. didn’t care.”

“touche.” the man on the other end replies, you can almost hear him nodding.

“i gotta go, okay?” and with that, you toss your phone to the side.

in hindsight, you should’ve checked if you properly ended the call.

but how can you have a sliver of concern for something else when you’re too rapt in grasping onto the bed sheets as stars dot behind your eyelids. pleasure courses through your veins. back arching, toe curling, heart leaping within your caged chest as moan after moan pours out of your mouth as seokjin takes you higher than any man you’ve had before.

seokjin’s body falls over you a moment later, his strong arms propped on either sides of your head on the bed as he moans. your arms wrap around his body, face buried in the crook of his neck as you tighten yourself around him, goosebumps rising on your skin when his moan turns to a growl as you feel him twitch inside you.

it’s a moment later, once your breathing calms down, do you catch the faint scent of seokjin’s cologne amidst the smell of sweat and sex in the air as seokjin lifts your head with his hand, pushes the pillow away and places your head on his bicep as his free hand wraps around your body. because of your position, you can clearly hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest.

he should be getting off his high but why is his heart racing like crazy?

you snuggle into him, forehead resting against his chest as your cheeks remain hot - you think you’re gonna catch a fever.

the weeks pass by in a breeze with taehyung adamantly advocating for you, hoseok, jimin and him to hang out at jeongguk’s place. rather than a place, it’s a studio for one so having five grown adults in the same room isn’t exactly the brightest idea.

neither you nor taehyung brought up what happened three weeks ago. whether he heard you have sex with his brother - you rather not find out. but to say that everything went back to normal would be a pathetic lie.

every time silence lapses over you, there’s a stale air of awkwardness that comes with it. as if you have to sift through your brain for a topic or else you’ll die from suffocation because having a hole open up underneath you and swallow you into oblivion is too good of a fantasy.

but little do you know, that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

“jinnie, you got so much better at cooking!” a high pitched squeal bursts your eardrums as you watch yoo mina stand too close to your man in her delivery of compliments.

“psssh, this is nothing, wait till you taste my special garlic butter potatoes,” seokjin tries to play it cool but the blush on his cheeks is too apparent even to a blind person.

not to mention, she’s using the nickname you gave him. well, his parents started calling him jinnie first and since you’ve been around for a long time, you end up calling him that too but that’s besides the point.

the point is, you’ve found an annoying little thorn stuck inside your flesh and you want her out.

christmas break rolled around and for the first time, the four of you manage to catch a flight back to your hometown at the same time. usually, seokjin and namjoon would have a day off and spend christmas together in seoul since a day is too short of time to be flying back and forth while you and taehyung go back home.

though this year, your parents decide to make an impromptu visit to your grandparents’ two days before you landed and leave you in the kim’s care like a charity basket on someone’s doorstep on christmas eve.

“yo,” taehyung’s baritone drums in your ears all too suddenly, making you flinch, “can you pass me the-”

as if on cue, an earth shattering crack bounces off the walls for the longest moment as silence settles in the room and nothing except the sound of the tv host energetically announcing something about welcoming guests to the show, fills the air.

“...angel,” taehyung ends his words, blinking at the pieces of porcelain angel scattered across the floor near your feet.

“oh shit, sorry,” you say to no one in particular, heart racing as you drop to your knees, attempting to gather the broken pieces in hopes of- “can you ask mrs. kim if you have hot glue?”

“___, don’t touch the glass with your hands-” you can barely make out taehyung’s instructions even though he’s standing on the ladder right next to you.

“maybe i can piece it b- ah,” you hiss, retracting your hand and holding it against your chest as you watch the spot where it stings starts to seep out bleed.

“let me see that,” a large hand slips under yours gently, as if you’d break under the slightest pressure.

the familiar scent of ocean and fresh air hits your nose as a pair of troubled eyebrows bind together, eyes focused on your bleeding finger, “we need to disinfect it,” seokjin turns to the dark haired girl and middle aged woman standing a few feet away, probably giving you space to breathe and recover from your shock, “sorry mom. mina. can you watch the stove for a bit? and - is the first aid kit still under the sink in the bathroom?”

the pain hasn’t registered, but it’ll be a bitch once it does.

mrs. kim smiles that warm, gentle smile that seokjin often wears. like mother like son, “yes, dear, it’s still there. we hadn’t moved it since you left because no one was getting hurt some of them might’ve expired...”

“come on,” seokjin pushes himself up first but he stops mid action as your anguished voice slips out of your mouth, “ow ow ow, jinnie, it hurts so much, i can’t even stand up.”

“wait, let me-” taehyung starts before his voice gets drowned out by his mother’s order to- “oh tae, since you’re not doing anything, go get the gloves and broom from the storage room and clean this up.”

seokjin shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips as his hands slip under your armpits and hoists you up to your feet like he would a child.

“welp, there goes my chance of being carried like a princess,” you sigh, lips puckering into a pout but you don’t expect him to agree to it so casually-

“okay.”

with a shrug and an all too willing smile, one arm wraps around your shoulder as he bends down to hook his other arm under your knees - only to have you grasp a handful of his sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop him from dipping any lower. like a lesser than smooth criminal scared of getting caught.

“i’d reach up and pluck the stars for you if you asked me to, what makes you think i won’t carry you in my arms if that’s what you want me to do?” his face is dangerously close to you as he whispers before standing back up again.

“what if i asked you to stop talking to someone?” cheeks hot, you murmur to yourself, glancing at mina’s frowning face as you and seokjin walk pass the kitchen counter, him with his face too close and you with your overjoyed heartbeat.

“just kidding!” you grin at the man before skipping a few steps ahead.

“no, please! i don’t wanna die!” you lament, leaning your body over the bathtub and away from the man that’s holding the gauze pad soaked in alcohol over the cut.

instead of sighing, clicking his tongue and calling you dramatic like his brother would, seokjin chuckles, “you know, we haven’t had a conversation since forever. what’s your favorite thing about christmas?”

“you’re just asking to distract me and when i’m distracted, you’ll pour the alcohol over the cut and it’ll hurt like hell,” you pout, eyes boring into his in an attempt to scour for admittance but when he doesn’t let up, you let a grin spread across your face, “i’ll let you do that for a kiss.”

but his inquiry isn’t what you expected, “just a kiss?”

“and a hug,” you nod, opening your arms and offering an innocent smile that barely stays for longer than a second before you feel his arms around your waist, his hand on the back of your head pulling you down to his longing lips.

the kiss lingers a little too long. seokjin pulls away only to breathe out a sigh of relief, as if quenched from the deprivation that almost drove him insane. his hands lock on your back as his face finds home in the crook of your neck. he tends to do that - breathe in the scent of your perfume as if it’s his safe haven.

“i missed you,” his breath is hot against your skin, but nothing could beat the warmth spreading throughout your whole body from just holding him like this.

your heart clenches in your chest. a kiss on top of his head.

“i know.”

taglist. @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods (if i missed anyone, please comment below. i haven’t got my shit together after coming back eye-)

note. so i wrote this before christmas, hence the holiday theme for this chapter. but stuff happened and i couldn’t post it. hope yall enjoyed!

#bts scenarios #seokjin scenarios #bts smut #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin imagines #bts imagines #bts scenario #seokjin scenario #bts smuts #seokjin smuts #seokjin x you #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts x you

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