#anyway. this kind of thing might end up being a yearly reminder. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kingsuckjin · 3 years

Text

Company Policy -JJK

- Pairing: coworker Jungkook x reader

- Genre: established relationship? Sort of

- Rating:18+

- Words: 5k

- Summary: Eight months. Eight months you have regretted breaking off being fuck buddies with your hot coworker. You were so afraid of being caught with him but now that you’ve had time to think, would it really be so bad as long as you could have him all to yourself again? Does he even like you anymore? Has he moved on? All you know is it’s been eight months since you’ve had sex, he’s been all you could think about. Now he’s looking pretty hot at this office party.

- Warnings: pining, explicit content, public sex, they fuck on a coworker’s desk, public sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, heavy dirty talk, brief mention of oral sex and a ton of other past sexual acts like thigh riding and hair pulling, kind of jealous tattooed kook, not voyurism but someone else is there at some point, and finally a dash of fluff.

- A/n: This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click >here< to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! Thank you so incredibly much to the donor @lcksndkys for donating and commissioning this, you are an absolute angel, I hope you know that. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away and wrote a few thousand more words than planned, but you deserve it.

“Morning,”

“Morning.” Was the greeting between you and Jungkook every morning when you stepped into the elevator, coffee in hand.

That was it, that was all you ever said to each other anymore. His smell always floated around the confined space making your mind flashback to what once was before you quickly pushed it away from your brain.

Neither of you ever said anything about it, it was like it had never even happened and sometimes you wonder if it even had or if your brain had made up everything that had happened eight months ago from your frequent dirty thoughts of your coworker. It felt like a lifetime ago. The familiarity of him, his smell, his smile, his voice along with the cold distance, avoidance to even look at you, and the constant wonder of him having someone else made you a little sick at your stomach.

You had decided to break things off… as if either of you were any more than fuck buddies. You knew that if anyone at work had ever found out about the two of you, you’d most likely both be fired. No banging other employees was a pretty strict policy there and you remembered the two nice ladies that were fired last year for it, you remembered it because your boss had made such an example of it.

You had been more than paranoid when you and Jungkook were boning for a whole month, you both had been so secretive even going as far as to have each other park down the street from your houses when the other came over. It didn’t help that you lived with your sister and didn’t want her to know you were sneaking someone in the house and screwing them. It also didn’t help that his roommate worked there too and didn’t get along at times. It didn’t seem like all the effort to sneak around was worth it at the time, but now you felt like you had a mistake.

As you took your seat behind the reception desk and began to put away your things for the morning, you just kept stealing glimpses of him doing the same at his cubicle. Every morning he would put his black messenger bag under his desk, turn on his computer, and roll the sleeves of his white button-up shirt up to reveal one very tattooed arm. His wavy hair was usually put back into a half ponytail for professionalism and probably so he could see, but there were always strands that managed to escape his hair elastic throughout the day. It was painful mentally at times having a view of him but trying not to look, it was painful knowing he wouldn’t look back at you anymore. You could still feel what it was like when he had glanced at you and smiled at you, your heart sped up at just the thought.

“Ugh why are you always here so early, you leave before I even wake up.” his roommate,Jimin, had walked in, looking great as usual but a bit tired in the face. He was lingering around Jungkook’s desk with his things still in hand.

“I like to be prepared, unlike you.” Jungkook joked back with a smile but you knew it was just more than a joke, Jungkook really didn't care for Jimin, he was a bit too spiteful towards him sometimes.

He had always come in early, you both were typically the first ones here besides the janitor. You had to be, your boss liked you here nice and early to greet everyone as they walked in.

“You coming to the thing tonight? The boss is letting us have booze.” Jimin asked him.

You felt like you really shouldn’t be paying attention to the conversation so you went back to sipping your coffee and getting ready to start the day.

“Hey.”

It nearly scared you to death as you rummaged through your bag under the desk for your chapstick. Your body jolted up to see Jimin leaning one arm on the reception counter.

“What?” you asked in confusion, wondering what he was now doing hanging around you with such a sly smirk.

“Well good morning to you too. Are you going to the party tonight? Boss is having a thing to celebrate meeting our yearly product sales goal.”

“I… haven’t thought about it, why?” you were honest, it didn’t mean anything to you.

“I know we have this policy, but you should think about going with me.” he gave you a wink that made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “We could come here and have a few drinks and a good time, then we could go back to my place and-”

“How about we don’t? We could just not do that.” you gave him a very fake smile.

Sudden loud coughing erupted through the room making you both look over at the source.

Jungkook was doubled over with his coffee still in his hand.

“You good?” Jimin asked him casually and Jungkook gave a thumbs up to show he was fine, even though his big eyes were slightly teary before holding up his coffee cup to signify he had strangled on his coffee.

“Anyway, if you’re worried about someone saying something about us, you could just come separately and we could just see what happens…”

“I’m not worried because there is no us, Jimin. I’ll come, but let’s not see what happens, and let’s not even speak.”

“Your loss. At least I’ll have Jungkook there with me.” Jimin responded along with a shrug to your savage words before walking away.

You looked over to Jungkook to make sure he hadn’t died because he was no longer choking, you just wanted to make sure he was still breathing but your eyes were met with his. He was giving you this gaze before he raised his eyebrows at you with a slight momentary smirk, it all only lasted less than a split second before he adjusted his black tie and turned back around to face his desk.

How could he be so casual with a look like that at you? How could he be so casual with everything that had happened between you? You had no idea what that look was about but it had your brain so frazzled. It could’ve been nothing, but it was the most interaction you’ve had with him in so long, all it had done was remind you how starved for him you were.

You looked down at your desk feeling your face get a little warm.

Images of that very shirt he was wearing right now, being unbuttoned rapidly with those tattooed fingers in some dark, sketchy hotel room ran through your mind.

“I wish you knew how much I’d go through to be this close to you, to be inside of you.” The memory of his words and hushed voice into your skin gave you goosebumps.

The same man who had said that now sat right over there, not even having tried to flirt with you in the past eight months as you sat here and wondered why you do this to yourself.

Did he still feel that way or had he just meant it at the moment? There were plenty at the moment things that he had said that would flood into your mind just to hurt you when you saw him.

You glanced at him throughout the day as you often did.

You avoided each other on your lunch break, stepping around each other to get to the vending machines in the break room.

You ate at your desk alone while he ate with Jimin in the break room.

Things were the same as they had been, the look he had given you earlier meant nothing, maybe nothing that had happened in the past meant nothing to him too.

Maybe it was all just fun like you both had planned for it to be, if so, why were you still so stuck on it? Why were you stuck on him? You told yourself it was just because he was attractive, the most gorgeous man in the office, but there were just these little things about him you couldn’t get over. The way he stretched and grunted in the morning, you knew the way he liked his coffee, you knew his parents’ names. You had both shared so much of your lives for an entire month almost constantly until you ripped it away from yourself so stupidly. You had both agreed to delete each other’s numbers, but the truth was, you still kept his name in your phone with little hearts by his name. You needed this to end, you needed to stop being so hung up on him because he wasn’t with you. You decided to go to this thing tonight and at least hope for some answers, if you failed to get any you would do your best to stop thinking about him.

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

You had talked yourself out of this more than five times already, but you had gotten dressed and ready and made the drive over.

You now sat in the office parking lot just picking lint off of your black dress, not looking forward to how awkward this might be. In your years of working there, you had mostly just kept to yourself… until the thing with Jungkook happened.

“Are you nervous? You look nervous” he gave you a little smile from across the table from the coffee shop. He had asked you to get coffee after work and he could see right through you

“A little.” You had admitted.

“Don’t be shy, it’s just me. It’s just Jungkook, we work together every day.”

“Don’t be nervous.” You found yourself saying out loud to yourself as you gazed out your windshield at the building. “I shouldn’t be. I work with him every day and nothings going to happen anyway.” You hurt yourself a little with the last part. You put a lot more care into how you looked tonight than you wanted to admit.

“It’s just a stupid office party,” you grumbled to yourself before unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car, if it was horrible or boring then you could just go home.

-----

You didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this. You had followed the signs to the floor that had held a large meeting room, but it didn’t look like a meeting room now.

It was just a room full of people with a snack table and alcohol. The room was dimmed but there were some cheap party effects lighting things happening. People were laughing and talking over some pop music that wasn’t eardrum-bustlingly loud but you still had to strain to hear over. You spotted a lot of coworkers you saw every day, more that you didn’t know from different departments though. You kind of just went and stood by a wall with your eyes searching faces, not stopping too long on any just in case they might think you were staring at them. Before you had left you wondered if you had been too dressed up, but now you were glad for your little black dress as you saw what the others were wearing. Everyone looked so nice and not at all what you were used to them wearing.

While your eyes were going over who was talking to who, you found him.

In the corner of the room on the opposite end, talking to some girl you had only seen a handful of times. She was touching her hair and smiling at him. He looked so dressed down in his ripped black jeans and a black t-shirt. His tattoos were freed as you had always liked seeing and his hair wasn’t being held back. You had seen him like this multiple times, but had anyone else? He had always looked so good like this, so himself.

Just seeing his hair down reminded you of all the times you had grabbed at it while moaning his name. Seeing him in those black ripped jeans reminded you of all the times he has made you ride his chiseled, hard thighs until you came multiple times.

You felt like you had been kicked in the heart as your brain went back to the present moment and saw her placing a hand on his shoulder.

He laughed at something she had said but took a step back out of her grasp smoothly before giving her a small wave. A few more words were exchanged before she apprehensively walked away from him, heaving him alone to stand at the wall on the other side of the room.

Your eyes darted away from him and over to the snack and drink table, you weren’t planning on getting any, but you wanted to make it look that way.

You felt nervous, he looked good and at least one other person had noticed. You told yourself that the lady who had just spoken to him didn’t know him as you did, she probably just saw a hot guy dressed in black with tattoos… just like you had when you both had started whatever happened. He was more than all of that, to you especially now after you had a lot of time to think about it all.

Although you didn’t want your eyes to, they had darted to him for a split second to see he had his phone out… until he looked up from it at you.

He had seen you, he had seen you looking at him from across the room, but he didn’t react. Instead, his eyes went back down to his phone, and yours went back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your bag and you decided to fish it out thinking it could help you look busy.

“Hey, it’s Jungkook. I see you :)”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your mouth as you read the text.

He hadn’t deleted your number just like you hadn’t his.

You felt his eyes watching you but you didn’t look up. He was waiting for your reply, but you just stood there dumbfounded that he had just sent you a text from across the room.

“I know.” you had nervously typed different versions of this reply over and over only to erase each time before settling on the most simple reply.

“You look good.” it had taken him no time to reply in comparison to you. You stood there in shock and lost as to what to say to him. You were taking too long because he sent a second text.

“I know that dress. I remember it.”

You had been hoping he would. You had worn this dress on the first night you both had ever done anything. You made out in his car after your coffee date. He had just kept telling you how pretty you looked even with his hand in your underwear. It was hard to resist him from even the first date, you had no idea how you had made it eight months now.

“You look nice too, you always have.” You typed and sent it quickly before you could change your mind.

You watched him run his inked fingers through his hair as he read the text. You could swear you saw a flash of a smile on his face before his thumbs went to work on his phone.

“I miss you.” Popped up on your screen.

Part of you felt like crying a little. You felt his eyes on you once again and you looked up away from your phone to see that your feeling had been correct. You were sure your mouth was open as you locked eyes from across the room. Your phone vibrated again in your hand.

“We should talk.”

“Hey, gorgeous!” Jimin stepped in front of you making you lock your phone. “I know you said let’s not talk but-“

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“How could I not? You’re the prettiest one here.” He smirked but you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes.

“Oh hey! I’ve been looking for you!” Jungkook now walked up with a smile at you. “You found her for me and didn’t even know I was looking, thanks, man.” Jungkook seemed to be thanking an equally confused as you Jimin.

“Sorry to bother you about work stuff at a party, but I forgot to earlier. I need the contact info to a client I’ve been working on to sell more products to. It’s wild, it’s like I went to the bathroom one day and the info to this big buyer just kinda… disappeared I guess. So weird, almost like someone has it out for me.” Jungkook gave the fakest joking laugh you had ever seen and Jimin looked a bit wide-eyed. “Anyway, You’re the receptionist so I know you have the contact info for everyone anyway so I was wondering if you could maybe help me out and get it for me? It’s kind of really important and I need it ASAP. Already asked the boss and he said it was cool.”

Jimin had just kind of slinked off silently, but you knew what Jungkook was doing.

“Yeah, Uh of course.” You nodded.

He tilted his head in the direction of the door before you followed him out.

He led you towards the elevator in absolute silence and even as he pushed the button for the floor you both worked on he said nothing.

You were beginning to think he was wanting your help. And then you thought about it more in the silent ride and you felt so stupid. Of course he was wanting your help, he had never said he actually didn’t, not even when Jimin had walked away.

“I can’t believe that asshole sabotaged me like that. My roommate sabotaged my sale.” He mumbled before scoffing as the elevator door opened.

“I-I’ll help.” You said but he passed right by your desk.

“I’m glad you said that.” He replied as he walked over to Jimin’s cubicle.

“What are we doing?” You finally asked.

“Depends…” he raised an eyebrow as he looked back at you. “What do you want me to do?”

You swallowed the lump of nervousness in your throat to speak as you looked into his mischievous-looking dark eyes.

“Whatever you want I guess.”

He lifted you in almost an instant and sat you on Jimin’s desk.

“You know he’s always liked you, right? He would tell on us if he ever found out. You were willing to risk it, right here right now?” He dared.

Instead of speaking you grabbed a fist full of his t-shirt and tugged him down until his lips met yours.

God did you want it. You have wanted for eight long months. You were willing to risk everything after so long without his lips on yours.

You were still nervous but his kiss brought it all back for you and how natural it felt.

“Fuck me.” You pleaded against his lips.

“You need it? Tell me you need it.” His lips moved to your neck as he ran a hand through the back of your hair.

“Ah, fuck I need it. I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” It slipped out of your mouth and got a second your body went rigid.

“Me neither.” He nipped at your neck.

The second thing he had done tonight that had stunned you.

“Wait.” You stopped him and he backed up to look at you.

“I missed you too. Not just… not just this, I missed you. I don’t know if you feel the same but-“

“What did you think I meant by I missed you? I didn’t just mean the sex or your body. I meant you as a person.”

“I-why didn’t you just say?” You wondered out loud.

He dropped to the floor on his knees between your legs.

“Cause you dumped me.” He let out a snort “you told me to delete your number, which surprise, I didn’t. You wouldn’t look at me. Plus this went two ways you know. You didn’t contact me either.” He stated as he looked up at you while ghosting his fingers over the skin of your thighs as he spoke.

“I dumped you?” You were surprised by this news. You know neither of you had had the relationship talk before.

“I mean, I like to think we were together.”

“Then we should be again,” you decided. You were tired of wanting him and not having him and something told you that he felt the same.

“I think so too,” he whispered, inching his lips closer and closer to yours before smashing into them.

His hands squeezed at the meat of your thighs before trailing them up the sides, up under your skirt, and hooking them in your panties. Your tongues whipped together in each other’s mouths. You managed to move so that he could get your panties down, but he only pulled them to your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the table, so close you thought you might fall off if he wasn’t right there between your legs.

His fingers now slowly ran from your inner thighs to your folds. As soon as he touched you, you unlocked your lips from his and let out a shaky breathed whine.

“I can tell you missed me. You're so wet for me,” he whispered so quietly just for you to hear even though no one else was in the room.

You did your best to stay quiet as his fingers teasingly and slowly ran over your clit and back down to your cunt.

He lifted his slick fingers to his mouth and you watched with a slightly open mouth as he let them slide past his lips and then out of his mouth altogether, coming out more glossy from his spit.

“I missed the way you taste”

His even more wet fingers that now teased at your pussy were making you want to grab his hand and force it to do something more. You were practically shaking under even the slightest of his touches. You were nervous for someone to walk in at any given moment and all he was doing was drawing things out and letting his fingers kill precious time playing in your folds.

“I'd love to make you cum right now with my mouth” he pressed a kiss onto your neck where his face had been camping out while his fingers tortured you. “But I know how that makes you scream and we have to be very…” another kiss to your neck “very” his fingers finally slowly slipped into your cunt “very quiet.” his whispers tapered off to quieter and quieter, so much so that your shaking breaths felt loud between the both of you.

You were doing your best not to break out into full-blown moans so that maybe if someone walked in you could play it off as just talking or something else, as long as no one heard your moans on the way up the both of you could have time to look normal.

His fingers curled inside of you with his palm grinding down onto your clit slowly.

“Oh God.” you breathed not knowing how you were supposed to survive this. He was all you wanted for months upon months and now that you had him here, tattooed hand knuckle deep in your pussy, his lips on your skin saying nothing but filth, you felt like you couldn't even let go as much as you wanted to, but you were trying.

His hand sped up its movements as you could feel how hard he was now in his jeans against the inside of your thigh.

Your lips squeezed together but it couldn’t stop the small whimpers he forced out of you. You could hear him breathing in your ear along with the wet sounds of your pussy. You were close but so scared. Doing this out in the open was such a thrill but it also made you paranoid.

“Cum for me. I hear the way you’re whining, you’re so close I know it. Just cum for me. Cum around my fingers, no one will know.”

You couldn’t stop it now.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt and forced his chest harder against yours, you wanted him closer, impossibly close as you came undone, clenching around his fingers rhythmically as each wave of pleasure pulsed through your body.

He let out a little moan at the sound and feel of you coming.

“I missed that too.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.

He reached between you and you felt him quickly yet nervously fiddling with his button and zipper with his hand that wasn’t soaked in your wetness.

He made a show about taking his thick, veiny cock out of his pants and rubbing your juices from his hand over it.

In seconds he was back in your ear.

“Can I fuck your brains out?” The whisper was soft, his voice was sweet but the words themselves were as hard as his dick he still stroked in his hand.

“You're always allowed brains out.” You whispered back “just do it.”

You felt his head run over your folds teasingly as he continued to play with you and himself.

“Do you still think about me fucking your brains out?” He asked. You could hear how much wetness had spread from you to his cock with each pump of his hand.

“Every time I need to get off.” You admitted. “So give it to me so I don’t have to keep wishing anymore.”

He pushed into you slowly, letting out a deep sigh and throwing his head back for a moment so you could see his perfectly sculpted throat.

You missed how full he made you feel while he was inside of you.

He pulled out almost entirely, the head of his cock was the only thing left inside of you, pushing on your g-spot before the thrust back in hard. This was the way he fucked, pulling out almost entirely so his head hit where you needed it. You had experienced guys that just flopped around, but he knew you, he knew your body, he paid attention, he had a very special handcrafted way to get you off over and over until you were shaking.

One of his hands grabbed your hip while the other went to your clit to play with using his thumb.

“You miss this, baby?” You miss my dick between your legs?” His lips brushed with your parted and panting ones as he spoke.

You let out a whimper as you focused on your second orgasm, his hips were not letting up and neither was his lips that whispered pure filth.

“Want me to cum inside of you, make you not want to forget me and who you belong to? Right here on Jimin's desk.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and you clutched at the fabric of his shirt as you were once again thrown into pure pleasure.

You couldn’t help it this time. The way he touched you, the way he felt inside of you, his grunts and words were all too much.

“Please, fucking cum inside of me, I want it all fuck you feel so good.” You cried out way too loudly.

“Oh my god, fuck.” He breathed through pants as his hips pounded into yours. You felt him release inside of you. Your walls clenched around him upon hearing his long deep guttural moan.

“I haven’t cum like that in…” he panted before letting out a little chortle of laughter “well in eight months.”

“So,” there was a loud voice in the room making your heads turn and your stomach’s sink. “You fucked on my desk.” Jimin looked beyond angry as he sat in an office chair across the room with his phone in his hand, pointing it at the both of you. You had no idea when or how he had come in, but you knew you were both beyond physically fucked.

Jungkook had already scrambled to pull out of you and zip his pants back up as you jumped off the desk, pulled your underwear up, and smoothed out your dress.

“That's fine, I have you both on video. I really liked you y/n. Jungkook, Looks like I’m moving out.” he stood from the chair and headed towards the direction of the elevator. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to speak to our boss about this. He probably won't be too happy to see you two are breaking company policy.”

“Fuck company policy and fuck you! You were an awful friend, roommate and you've always been jealous of me!” Jungkook yelled at him back.

“Not anymore, jobless.” Jimin turned back to give Jungkook a smirk before he stepped into the elevator.

With that, you were both just left there.

“I… I am so so sorry…” Jungkook began apologetically and just as stunned as you were.

“Don’t be, we’re too good for this job anyway, we can find new ones. It looks like you need a new roommate now though.”

You watched his face as a small smile grew on it.

“Yeah, looking for someone prettier and nicer, maybe someone willing to be my girlfriend? I don't know though, I don’t want to make too many demands.”

“Well I could meet all of those demands.” you played along. “We won't have to sneak around anymore.”

“Yes, please, yes. I uh- don't want to ruin the cute moment, but I think we should get out of here before Jimin brings the boss up.”

“Oh fuck, right. Uhh, we should probably just never come back too. Let’s just grab our stuff from our desks and make a run for it.”

“Let's go. You know, this is simultaneously the best, worst, most exciting, and most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me,” he said and you couldn't help but laugh and agree.

Maybe the both of you had made a big mistake, but perhaps there could be good that came from it. You had him back and honestly you didn’t feel too bad about trading your dumb job with its dumb company policy for him.

1K notes · View notes

crystaljins · 4 years

Text

Finding Christmas again

Characters: Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 21K

Synopsis: After a lifetime’s worth of turbulent and miserable Christmases with your family, you finally make the executive decision to spend this year’s Christmas alone.

However, when you take home a box of old Christmas decorations from your friend’s shop, it seems that this Christmas is set to be different from the others.

ChristmasScarecrow!Tae x human!Reader

Notes: Here it is!!! My contibution to the @thebtswritersclub secret santa (and also their monthly holiday prompt, Holiday/festival)!!! And my secret santa is.... *drum roll*....

Hi @pars-ley, Merry Christmas!!!!! I hope you enjoy your secret santa!!

Anyway, I know the premise sounds weird but bear with me!!!! It’s kinda cute, I promise!!

Rating: PG13

Genre: Fluff, angst

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, fighting, alcoholism, depression, mean step-siblings (OC’s family). Mentions of house break-ins, some kissing and some ANGST, santa is real, really poorly explained world mechanics that are kind of glossed over because I’m lazy LOL

For you, the start of the Christmas season is always marked by Seokjin unboxing the stock for his December-long Christmas sales. Any stock from the previous year that didn’t get sold gets lined up along the shelves along with a few new trinkets here and there. He pulls out a series of dusty cardboard boxes, soft and collapsing from age and within are numerous fraying, gaudy Christmas decorations he likes to string around the shop to give off a bit of a “festive” atmosphere. Of course, an overstocked, tacky dollar store can only be so “festive” but Seokjin never seems deterred.

This year, however, marks a change. You sit amidst towering, overflowing shelves whileJin beams at you over the counter of his tacky dollar store and slides the first of the decrepit and infamous cardboard boxes towards you.

“If you’re being stubborn and insisting on spending Christmas alone this year, at least put up some decorations.” He insists. Hesitantly, you peer inside- the tinsel has lost some of its magnificent sparkly mane, but it’s still passable and there’s a few tangled lights that you know from experience may have a bulb or two blown but are still somewhat useable.

“I guess I could,” you reluctantly agree. Your small apartment could definitely do with a little apartment sprucing. “You’re not going to decorate this year?” You question. Jin shakes his head and beams, gesturing to a series of brand new cardboard boxes, freshly shipped. They’re crisp and upright in a way that makes the old boxes look even more soggy and pathetic.

“I’ve done a little bit of online shopping this year and thought it would be nice to freshen up my decorations. And I know you could use some decorations so I knew my babies would be going to a good home.” He announces, positively giddy with delight. Christmas always leaves Jin on the edge of manic. Starting the month off with his birthday and then finishing it off with the entire world decked out in festivities is like giving him a month-long sugar rush. Nothing says festive season like the terrifying sparkle to his gaze.

“Well... thank you, I guess.” You say. You’re hesitant but grateful. You’re not the kind of person who hates Christmas or thinks the grinch was a victim, but it’s always been a season that didn’t ring as joyful for you as it seemed to for everyone else. After all, for you, Christmas had consisted of you hiding upstairs while your parents had screaming matches while they were still together, and then it had been a mix of being picked on by your step-siblings the years you were stuck with your father, and nursing your mother after she’d get drunk over eggnog and cry over her broken family when you spent it with your mother. Perhaps this is your chance to reclaim the season. “I can load these up in my car and then we can get started hanging up your new decorations?” You suggest, as Jin finishes balancing the till.

Jin nods absently, counting under his breath, before leaning against the counter with a smile.

“That would be absolutely fantastic. Your santa hat is in my office- don’t forget it!” He reminds you. You groan.

“Do we have to do this every year? It’s demeaning.” You complain. Jin nods and then ignores your grimacing, returning to counting the day’s takings.

With a heavy sigh, you take your time loading the boxes into your car, parked out the back of the shop, before ducking into his office. Sure enough, two embroidered Santa’s hats sit haphazardly on Jin’s desk. You tug one over your head and grab the other for him.

You’re not sure when this tradition of helping Seokjin set up his shop for Christmas began. If you’re being honest, you’re not even sure when you started being friends with him, but this has been a yearly tradition since he started the shop, and the closest you’ve ever gotten to Christmas cheer. Your job is to string out the decorations in the least gaudy manner possible while Jin arranges his Christmas stock on his already overflowing shelves.

Back in the shop, Jin has just finished locking up when you come down the stairs at the back. He turns to you and beams, before gesturing to the boxes filled with new decorations.

“Time to put that interior decorator eye to good use, (Y/N)!” He cries, clapping his hands enthusiastically together. You wince- it would take a lot more than some Christmas lights to fix the mess that is Seokjin’s shop. Even a professional interior decorator couldn’t fix this chaotic mess. His shop is ten years past a clearance sale.

Still, you walk over and begin to open up the boxes, sorting through the decorations until you come across an older box. You thought you’d loaded them all, but it looks like you’ve missed one.

“What’s this box, Jin?” You ask, peeling back the lid to find a series of old, musty decorations. Jin pauses in his detangling of some dangling star lights to look over your shoulder.

“Those are the decorations I put up for sale every year that never seem to go. Even the words “clearance” isn’t enough for people to want them.” He sighs, and he’s surprisingly melancholy as he looks upon the unwanted decorations. You’ve never had much to do with the things he chooses to sell- frankly you’re a little afraid with the things you may find should you venture into the labyrinth of his dollar store. Curious, you peel back the cardboard flap and peer inside at the myriad of unwanted decorations.

Oddly, it makes your heart twinge a little, to see the stock that has been stuck gatherinf dust for eleven months. As dramatic as it sounds, you know a thing or two about being unwanted.

Not that your parents ever implied you were unwanted! It’s just hard not to feel that way when you’re born to a couple who want nothing to do with each other. The constant back and forth between your two feuding parents had constantly made you feel more like a “pass-the-parcel” package than a human being.

And when your dad had remarried, he’d always insisted that you were welcome, but it’s not difficult to see how happy he is in his new family. How his stepchildren’s achievements made him smile or how he’d finally achieved the noisy, warm household he’d always dreamed of. The household he never had with you. And now even your mother is trying new things- she’d asked you to come with her to meet the family of her new boyfriend, but you couldn’t bring yourself to suffer through the awkwardness.

That’s why you’d chosen to spend this Christmas alone- because you can’t seem to shake the feeling that you’re an afterthought when it comes to a holiday that involves spending time with your family. You exist, and you share their blood, but they have plans with people they actually chose to be in their lives. You’re welcome along, but not really wanted.

Jin watches the expression on your face with mild interest.

“Do you... want any of them?” He questions tentatively. “They’re a bit gaudy, but you could give them a home?”

You grimace at the ugly decorations- it’s not hard to see why no one wanted them. Tacky, corny baubles and cheap little mantle ornaments that a even a seventy year old grandmother would turn her nose up at.

But despite your general distaste, a tuft of red wool at the corner of the box catches your attention. You reach forward and tug it free.

A Christmas-themed scarecrow toy smiles back at you. Tufts of red, woollen hair peak out beneath his little santa’s hat, and two sewed on black buttons make up his eyes. His mouth is a simple stitched black line, a little upwards curve, and a little paint on upside down triangle makes his nose. He’s dress in a flannel shirt and overalls, but the overalls have a little christmas tree embroidered on the front and his flannel shirt has fluffy cuffs like the ends of a santa shirt. He’s sort of charming, if a little strange- why a christmas scarecrow? What an oddly specific decoration.

“I can kind of see why no one would want these.” You snort, though you don’t put him back. Jin nods sympathetically.

“This little guy has been with me for years. All the other decorations I bought with him eventually got sold but this guy is still unwanted.” He admits, taking the scarecrow from your hands to examine it fondly. “I even tried giving him away for free once but they didn’t want him.”

You bite your lip at that. The two button eyes stare up at you longingly, and for some reason you feel a sense of camaraderie with this stupid, gaudy christmas scarecrow.

If you’re taking a bunch of decorations, why not this guy? He clashes with every instinct you have in terms of decoration, but the thought of him sitting on a shelf, unwanted for a month only to go back in this dusty old box at the end of the year is too depressing for you to handle. With a sigh, you take him back from Jin.

“Might as well, since you dumped all your other old decorations on me.” You sigh.

And you miss the way Jin winks at the little scarecrow when you’re facing away from it.

You actually forget about the decorations for the next few days. They sit in your car, unpacked. You’re busy with work as they rush to wrap up the end of year projects before their deadlines. And it’s not like putting up decorations has a deadline, right? You put them up some time before Christmas and hopefully remember to take them down before February hits.

It’s when Autumn finally draws to a close and the first of December hits that you’re finally motivated to put them up. You’re in a deep clean kind of mood and when you duck out to your car to chuck out the various wrappers and old papers you’ve built up over autumn, you recall the boxes in your boot.

The little Christmas Scarecrow is the first thing you pull out once the boxes are unloaded into your home. The little button eyes gaze up at you mournfully, as if scolding you for leaving him unattended in your car for so long.

“Sorry little guy.” You sigh, straightening and setting him atop your mantle. He looks a little out of place with your decor but it feels right to place him there for some reason. This way he’s in full view of any guests that walk in. “Here. This can be your spot. Front and centre.” You tell him, and from this spot his button eyes look a little less mournful. With a smile, you begin puzzling out how to assemble Jin’s ratty old Christmas tree.

You’re in the middle of a youtube tutorial on how to make your tree appear fuller when your phone lights up with your mother’s contact image.

It takes you a few moments to steal yourself to answer her.

You aren’t on bad terms with your mother or anything. It’s just... for a few years after the divorce, when you probably needed her most, she just wasn’t your mother. And she’s done really well and gotten a lot of help and she’s in a really good place right now, but it’s still hard. It’s hard to talk to either of your parents, really.

“Hey mum.” You finally say as you answer the phone. You can guess what she’s going to ask- every since she found out you wouldn’t be going home for Christmas, she’s been doing her best to convince you otherwise.

“I was just at the store this morning,” she greets you. “And I saw all the ingredients for that christmas cake we used to make when you were small. Do you remember? And we always made it snowman-shaped and you’d cry when we’d eat it.”

You smile at the memory- it’s one of the very few fond ones you have on Christmas. When you were a very young child, before whatever your parents had between them went sour. Before life transitioned into hiding upstairs and trying to block out the sounds of shouting and being bounced back and forth between opposite sides of the country because your mother and father couldn’t even handle being in the same city together.

“I do remember.” You say.

“We could make it!” Your mother urges. “Just think- wouldn’t it be so fun? John has a daughter your age, and she loves to bake! She’s so eager to meet you too- we could-“

“Maybe next year, mum.” You say. “I’m just absolutely slammed at work this year. Besides, I’ll be down for your birthday soon. I’d just rather spend Christmas at home, this year.”

Your mother is silent for a moment. You know she didn’t miss the implications of your statement. When you had first moved out for studying, returning to your parent’s place had been “going home”. Even you’re not sure when avoiding your family for the holidays had morphed into “staying home.”

“I... I’m sorry. I know I keep bringing it up, but I heard from your father that you weren’t going to spend it with him either and I... I don’t like the thought of you alone for Christmas.” She finally says. “I know I’ve failed you in a lot of ways, but I don’t want this to be one of them. John’s wonderful and his family would love to have you. We could make room for you.”

You go quiet for a moment. Your mum is trying her very best. You know that- you know that so well and yet you can’t. You just can’t do it. You don’t have it in you to brave through Christmas with either of your parents and play happy families and pretend that the years of misery didn’t happen. You don’t want a Christmas where people are “making room” for you. You want to have a place that is just inherently yours.

“Next year.” You promise. Next year you’ll have steeled yourself. Next year you’ll have it together. Next year you can try again. Next year you’ll be a little stronger and more resilient and then you can face the mess of your broken family.

Your mother sighs on the other end, in a sad, disappointed sort of way.

“Next year.” She finally says, and there’s a promise in her words. Next year she’ll be better too. She’ll keep trying.

You stay on the phone a little longer, and when you hang up you just spend a moment in your empty apartment. Boxes are sitting, strewn around you and currently the only decoration is your little Christmas Scarecrow.

Oddly, he almost looks judgemental as he peers at you through the buttons.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh, getting to your feet and beginning the process of organising the Christmas decorations. “It’s complicated. You don’t know my mum and I know she loves me and I know she’s trying... but it’s... it’s just complicated, ok?”

You continue to ramble as you finish up your decorations. It’s quite therapeutic, talking to an inanimate object. It almost feels like he’s listening- there’s something warm in the little stitched mouth and button eyes. You and your scarecrow, both unwanted on Christmas day. You tell him about your parent’s divorce, about your past Christmases. About Jin and your friendship with him. About your decision to be alone for Christmas this year because neither of your parent’s offers seemed particularly appealing.

By the time you’ve finish, your apartment actually looks decent. The Christmas tree sits in the corner, decorated with baubles covered in chipped paint and balding tinsel. There’s lights strung across the ceiling and across your mantle and maybe there’s one or two missing spots, and maybe it’s just a little tacky, but it’s warm. It’s home. You’ve carved out a little home for yourself in this apartment, and maybe it’s not perfect, but you like it.

When you fall asleep on the couch, exhausted, you dream of ringing sleigh bells and cheerful Christmas tunes.

You awaken suddenly. Your heart is in your throat.

There’s someone in your apartment. You can hear them rummaging around in the kitchen. You don’t know how they got there, but terror fills you.

The first thing you do is discreetly reach for your phone. You want to call the emergency number but you don’t want the intruder to know you’re awake in case they retaliate. Instead, you shoot a text to Jin.

There’s someone in my house. You text. The response is almost immediate.

I’m on my way. He responds. You resist the urge to groan. You’d told him so that he could call the police, not so that he could play hero.

You roll off the couch and sneak closely to the wall. A metal bat rests there- a housewarming gift from Namjoon when he first learnt you’d be living alone. You never thought you’d have to use it. You never forget to lock your doors and surely no one has the guts to scale a building and come in through your balcony, right?

Still, you’re grateful for it now as you grip the handle tightly between both fists.

Hesitantly and quietly, you inch towards the kitchen. The light is on and you can make out a figure bustling inside.

With a cry, you rush forward, swing the back in a downwards arc.

Only for your terrified intruder to whip around and catch the bat with the palms of his hands. Ignoring the fact that he just caught the full swing of a metal bat without flinching, you try and pull your bat back to tru for another swing.

But he merely tightens his grip on the bat and this gives you time to take in his appearance.

There’s a lot of striking things about the man’s appearance. Bright, brilliantly red hair, the colour of Christmas ribbons and raspberries, a straight, prominent nose. A sharp, well-defined jawline and two warm, dark eyes, almost familiar in their dark shade.

It’s hard to know what to take in first. His startlingly handsome face, his brightly coloured hair, or his outlandish outfit. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look cute in tacky, Christmas themed overalls or a flannel shirt that’s an odd mix of a Santa’s hat and a farmer’s uniform. Complete with the Santa’s hat and the bright red hair, the man could almost be twins with your Christmas Scarecrow.

“Who are you?” You demand. You attempt another futile tug on your bat, but the man’s grip is firm.

“Don’t panic, (Y/N)!” He urges. His voice is deep and velvety but edged with a little terror. Your eyes widen.

“How do you know my name?” You demand. If you weren’t afraid before, you are now.

“Seokjin said it! In the store, a few days ago!” He cries, still pressing firmly against your metal bat. Despite you pressing your whole weight into it, it doesn’t budge a centimetre closer towards him.

“So you’re a stalker?” You cry.

“No!” He counters. “It’s me, (Y/N)! The scarecrow!”

That startles you enough to relax your grip on the metal bat. He senses the lapse in your grip and tugs the metal bat free. He holds it away from you and approaches you slowly, cautiously.

“I was just making you some hot chocolate.” He says slowly. “You seemed sad after your phone call with your mum and I wanted to comfort you.”

He’s crazy- a crazy guy has broken into your house and has been listening to your conversations for who knows how long, and has been stalking you before that.

“How long have you been stalking me for, you psycho?” You demand. His eyes widen in horror.

“I’m not a stalker!” He insists. “I’m your scarecrow- turn around and I can prove it!”

“What? So that you can stab me while my back is turned?” You demand. You make a grab for the bat. “Get out of my house!”

He manages to throw the bat backwards and grab both your shoulders as you lunge for him. With impressive strength he presses on your shoulders and spins you around. In the same motion, he shoves you forward a few steps and you stumble to re-gain your balance.

Enraged and terrified, you whip around, ready to retaliate.

Only, he’s gone. Where a weird red-haired man previously stood, your kitchen is now empty.

The counters are scattered with objects- your milk is out, and an open tin of cocoa, a few of your spice jars are laid neatly next to the pile of pots.

And, sitting neatly where the man had been not a moment before, is your little Christmas Scarecrow. He smiles up at you, button eyes gleaming like he knows something you don’t.

You can’t help it- you crumble before it. The post-adrenaline crash hits hard and you stare dumbly at the embroidered smile for a moment.

“It’s a dream.” You finally conclude to yourself. “This is some messed-up nightmare and tomorrrow this haunted scarecrow can go right back to Jin’s store.”

You grab it and hold it at a distance, your arms outstretched like it smells bad.

“This is fine.” You assert. “It’s a dream. Just. Just go back here. And I’ll go... run into a wall or something. And this will all be some sort of fever dream.”

You settle the Christmas Scarecrow back into its rightful spot on your mantle, before turning around. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to run full speed at the wall just opposite.

“‘Haunted’ is a little much, don’t you think?” The same velvety voice from earlier asks, and you turn to find the very same intruder leaping off your mantle onto the ground. “I’m not a ghost, or anything.”

He comes to stand in front of you, arms folded and lips pulled into a frown. Looking upon him now, you see the similarities to the Christmas Scarecrow- even the loose thread in the embroidered tree of his overall pockets is identical. It... it really is your Christmas Scarecrow, standing before you in human form.

You nod to yourself, a peaceful wave of acceptance washing over you and-

No wait, never mind. That wave is nausea- you’re blacking out.

When you come to, you’re arranged neatly on your couch with your scarecrow hovering over you. You almost want to faint again, but you hold strong.

“You’re awake!” He cheers, waving a damp towel around. He’s been dipping it in a bowl of cool water and pressing it against your forehead and you flinch as his actions send icy drops over water scattering across your face.

“And you used to be a scarecrow.” You grumble, sitting up. You squint and lean in closely, taking in every detail. Each mark on his skin, each strand of bright red hair, the smooth curve of his smile... it’s so human. Probably the most ethereal and beautiful human to walk the planet, but still human. One of his eyelids is a monolid and the other is a double lid and one of his front teeth is just slightly longer than the other and yet the effect is that he’s just so charming. Far too beautiful to be sitting in your tacky, poorly decorated apartment and far too beautiful to be spending most of his time as a cringe-y christmas-themed scarecrow that Jin probably fished out of the bottom of a clearance basket at a thrift shop and thought he could get away with re-selling. “You have maybe thirty seconds to explain before I call the police. Or an exorcist. Or both.”

He holds up his both his hands in surrender.

“Wait. Please.” He pleads. The desperate way he says the words makes you pause. Honestly, the sane thing to do would be to kick him out. Leave the weird, haunted scarecrow out on the street to fend for himself and go about your days as if this particular little supernatural incident never occurred.

You sigh.

“Just... please tell me what’s going on.” You finally say. “I won’t do anything drastic, but at least explain.”

Relied and gratefulness shines in his eyes and he clasps your hands gratefully between his own. Your attention is momentarily caught by the way his large hands dwarf your own. The bony prominences of his knuckles catch your attention- they shift and glide beneath his skin as his grip around your hand tightens. For some reason, the tiny action seems huge. You lift your gaze slowly to meet his eyes, which are round and warm.

“My name is Taehyung.” He explains. “And I’m a Christmas Spirit.”

“Christmas Spirit?” You echo in bewilderment. Taehyung nods eagerly and sits forward. He pulls his legs together so that he can sit cross-legged and wraps his hands around his ankles.

“Yup!” He says, and he’s surprisingly nonchalant despite the supernatural implications of his statement. “We’re beings that come about from the magic of the season. And our job is to spread Christmas cheer to whoever welcomes us into their home.”

As if that’s just a normal thing that someone can spring on you and not expect you to panic! Yet he announces it like he’s a five year old excited to explain the drawing he made of you in school that day. All you can really manage is to nod mutely for a moment. Despite the absurdity of his words, it certainly sounds like what you had done- taken a tacky, unwanted Christmas decoration and welcomed it into your home.

“And that’s you, (Y/N).” He says warmly, and the way he says your name is so fond. Like you’re his oldest, most valued friend. It startles you- you don’t think you’ve ever had the syllables of your name pronounced with such care, like they are a precious gift. “You are the first human to ever welcome me into your home. All my friends eventually found people to take them, and I’m the last one to remain. I’ve never gotten to fulfil my duty, not even once.”

“Why not?” You croak out. Why was there a random little christmas ornament in Seokjin’s store that held this kind of power? Why did it end up with you? Who was this mysterious man in your house, gazing at you like you’re the best thing to ever happen to him?

“Well, it’s probably not hard to tell.” He admits, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck and then adjusting the santa’s hat atop his head. “Not many people want a Christmas-themed Scarecrow for a decoration. At least not around here.” He sighs. But then he turns to you and his gaze is bright. It’s a little blinding, his mega-watt smile, and it’s certainly overwhelming to have the full force of it directed at you. “But you gave me a chance! You took me home!”

“So... you spread Christmas cheer for me? What does that even mean? What happens when you finish?” You say, leaning back just a little to give yourself room to breath. His scent fills your nostrils and it’s overwhelming. A pleasant mix of christmas scents- gingerbread, cinammon, peppermint. It sits thick in the back of your throat like the pleasant burn of a hot, sweet drink.

He looks surprised at the line of questioning and a frown replaces the warm, glowing look he’d borne just moments earlier.

“Well, I’m not sure. I suppose when I finish then you put me away for a year or you pass me on to someone else.” He admits. “This is my first time, so I’m still learning the ropes.” He’s a little sheepish as he admits it. But then his gaze lights up again and he pulls himself up onto the couch so that he can sit shoulder-to-shoulder with you. “But spreading Christmas cheer is just helping you enjoy the season! You haven’t had a great experience with Christmas, right? I can help!”

You stiffen as you recall earlier that day; you had essentially aired all your dirty laundry to what you’d thought was an inanimate object. Taehyung now knew more about you than even some of your closest friends did. You’d unintentionally opened up and made yourself vulnerable to some guy you hardly knew. The thought has you recoiling. You’re not against the idea of opening up- certainly when people ask the right questions, you’ll answer honestly. But people rarely ask and you’ve never volunteered. No one has has access to every dirty detail like Taehyung now does.

And for some reason that thought has you terrified.

“I’m... I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Taehyung.” You volunteer quietly. Taehyung stiffens at the tone of your voice. “You seem like a nice enough guy. Or spirit. Or scarecrow. Whatever you are. And I hope that one day you’ll find someone you can give lots of Christmas cheer to. But I didn’t sign up for this. I don’t want any of it- the “Christmas cheer” or the festivities, or anything. I’m just...” you inhale deeply. “I’m just trying to make the most of what I have.”

You get to your feet, your back facing him.

“You can stay the night, but I’ll take you back to Jin in the morning. I’ll see if I can convince any of my friends to take you, if you like.”

A slight tug on the sleeve of your jumper stops you from leaving. You glance down at your wrist. Taehyung has just the tip of your sleeve, pinched between his fingers. It’s not enough pressure to stop you from leaving. The slightest tug would liberate you from his grasp and you’d be free to go back to your room.

“No one else will.” He admits quietly. There’s a sort of heart-aching tone to his voice that makes that tiny grip feel like he’s handcuffed to you. “I waited for five years in that store. I’d sit in a box for eleven months of the year, and hope that this year would be the one someone chose me and every day of December that passed I’d watch people walk right past me. And before that, I was passed around from store to store. People would keep me in the store until they realised I’d never sell and then they’d palm me off to someone else. They didn’t even have the guts to get rid of me. And I’d watch as the objects around me got chosen. They got sent to good homes. But never me. I have waited twenty five christmases for someone to let me in. You’re the first.” He quietly admits. He hasn’t changed or adjusted his grip on your sleeve. Just that tenuous, fragile grip, that little bit of hope that can be snapped at any moment keeps you in place. “Please.” He breathes.

You stare at his fingers, at the tacky cuffs of his sleeve, at his hopeful, pleading expression.

You don’t have to do this. He’s asking you, but he won’t force you. You can say no and have the bleary, lonely Christmas you’d originally planned. You can keep pushing everyone away and forever allow Christmastime to be a holiday of heartbreak for you.

Or you could let this random Christmas Scarecrow and his sparkly, bright eyes into your home.

“Ok.” You finally say. “My work hasn’t shut down yet so I’m gonna be super busy for the next few weeks. But in between you can give it a go.”

The answering smile he gives you in turn has your heart fluttering in anticipation.

Maybe Christmas won’t be so bad this year.

Although you had had every intention of welcoming Taehyung into your home and applying yourself to the festivities as best you could, your workplace dials everything up to eleven over the next few days, just as predicted. Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t whine or complain. He spends most of the day while you are at work in his scarecrow-form or binging netflix on your account and he spends his evenings stretched on the couch, or beaming at you over dinner. It’s kind of like having a loyal golden retriever to come home to, but maybe with better manners.

It’s actually kind of pleasant. You occasionally catch him humming Christmas tunes and he keeps leaving his Santa hat in strange places but otherwise he’s a rather nonintrusive roommate. He even makes you dinner on occasion and he’s not a terrible cook.

It’s only as the weekend approaches and you’re contemplating how to spend it that it occurs to you that Taehyung hasn’t left the house once. It’s not like he can just wonder down the street in his scarecrow outfit- it’s not exactly designed to withstand subzero temperature. And you’ve been so slammed at work that it never occurred to you that you’d essentially let the poor guy stay with you and then left him to the equivalent of house arrest.

“Do you do much during the week?” You ask Taehyung across dinner that night. You had quickly learned that he does need to eat and shower and sleep like every human but he can stave it off by staying in his scarecrow form, and so dinner time had just become a shared meal most evenings. He had even waited in his scarecrow form for you to get back on the days you had finished late that week. He pauses through a mouthful of pasta and looks up, cheeks bulging.

“Not much.” He confesses, after a noisy swallow. “I don’t really have anywhere to go.” He reminds you.

Guilt churns in your stomach and sours your dinner. You had promised him you’d give him a chance, and yet here you were a week later, making him fend for himself in an unfamiliar and empty apartment with nothing to do but watch netflix and raid your pathetic excuse of a pantry.

“Right.” You sigh, thoroughly chastened. “I... forgot. I’m sorry- work just hit me really hard.”

“It’s fine.” Taehyung dismisses. “It’s my job to entertain you, not the other way round!”

You stir awkwardly at your food, still unable to dispel the guilt.

“Even so... we could go somewhere tomorrow, if you want? I have the weekend off.” You offer as nonchalantly as you can. “If you’re here for the rest of the month, you’ll need clothes. And proper bedding. We can pick that stuff up and then do some other things.”

He positively beams at your offer and it’s jarring. You aren’t used to such joy at such simple things. It’s so easy to win a smile from him, but rather than make his smiles seem meaningless, it just seems to make them brighter. You’re not used to earning such easy affection for so little and it leaves you unsure what to do with yourself.

“Really?” He questions eagerly. “The whole day?”

You duck your head slightly to disguise your fluster. You’re not even sure why your heart seems to race at his smile. Perhaps because you’ve never seen such a beautiful person smile quite like that.

“The whole day.” You reassure him. “I can make up for this week- I really didn’t mean to ignore you like this.”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“Don’t be silly!” He scolds you. “You told me that work would be busy. It just means we have to make your weekend even more enjoyable to make up for a missed week.”

He gets abruptly to his feet, wiping pasta sauce from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, I have so much to plan! Can I borrow your laptop? I have to plan our day!” He asks. A little startled, you merely nod at him in bewilderment and he grins determinedly to himself. “Ok! My first day on the job. Here I go.”

He storms off and then performs a quick u-turn.

“After I clean up my dishes.” He recalls sheepishly.

The next morning you shuffle into your kitchen a bit bleary-eyed and still in your pyjamas. Taehyung never seems to be tired or grumpy no matter what time of day it is, and so it’s not surprise that he’s up and humming to himself as he cooks breakfast for the two of you.

He hears you shuffle in the kitchen and glances over his shoulder to smile at you and it catches you off-guard for some reason. You’ve gotten used to him cooking meals, to his singing, even to just his general presence, but you can’t seem to get used to the way he seems to just smile so easily. Something about the way the wintery sun streams in through the windows and catches the tips of his hair and gilding the sharp edges of his handsome face is just ethereal. You can believe he’s not a human in that moment- he’s too gorgeous to be one.

“You’re up!” He cheers. You shake your head to try and rid yourself of your strange thoughts and shuffle forward to scrutinise the breakfast he’s preparing.

“I’m making a Christmas classic.” He informs you when he notices you attempting to peer over his shoulders. “At least, according to her.” He gestures to your ipad on the counter, where he has one of those food blogs run by stay-at-home mums that write essays on their blogs instead of the actual recipes. This one seems to have a picture of tacky santas made from pancakes and whipped cream.

Looking at Taehyung’s progress so far, it actually looks fairly similar to the picture, but that’s not saying that much considering the quality of the picture.

“Isn’t that like cannabalism for you? Isn’t eating Santa basically eating your coworker?” You point out. Taehyung laughs, a full-bodied laugh that makes his eyes curl up into little crescent moons.

“He’s actually my boss more than my coworker. But he loves Santa-themed decorations. He says it makes him feel jolly.” He tells you.

There’s a lot to unpack there and so you choose to ignore it by occupying yourself with the cleanup.

“So I was thinking that we can get some clothes for you today and maybe some other necessities if you’re going to be staying here all month.” You inform him. Taehyung nods distractedly, gently nudging one of the santa pancakes onto a plate. He reaches for a bowl of blueberries, arranging them into eyes and then spraying whipped cream in the shape of a beard. It kind of seems like he’s not very interested in your schedule for the day.

“Tadaa!” He exclaims, showing off his creation. He then reaches for a blueberry and pops it in his mouth. “They’re not bad for frozen fruits.”

“Looks great.” You praise him. “But the plan for today-“

“(Y/N).” Taehyung cuts you off. He looks a little stern, but there’s still a warmth to his expression that softens the harsh edges. “I told you I’d plan today. It’s my job to make your Christmas season enjoyable. I’m not here for you to babysit- got it?”

Chastened and surprised, you nod meekly. He grins.

“Good. Now open up.” He says, brandishing a blueberry menacingly between his fingertips at you. Your eyes widen.

“But Tae-“ you protest, and he’s shoved the blueberry into your mouth before you can finish your counterargument. This time, when he smiles, it’s a little smug.

“No “buts”.” He sighs. “Just sit down and enjoy breakfast and trust me. We can pick up some

clothes since the Christmas overalls are a bit weird, but after that, then I take over. Ok?” He demands, and you chew through the blueberry, a little disconcerted.

“Ok.” You finally agree reluctantly.

Breakfast is a peaceful affair, with the two of you enjoying the pancakes. Cleaning up with Taehyung is almost domestic- there’s something pleasant about having him stand shoulder to shoulder with you, drying the dishes as you wash them.

Outside is a frigid affair- it hasn’t quite hit the point where it’s snowing outside, but temperatures are definitely creeping lower and lower and Taehyung nearly glows blue in the short sprint to your car. You fix it by blasting the heater the second the two of you are safely secured in the vehicle.

“So, if you’re planning the agenda for today, what are we doing after we grab you some clothes?” You ask conversationally. Taehyung pauses from where he’s flicking through your phone, scrutinising your spotify playlist like he’s studying it for an exam. He looks up, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration.

“Well, I called in a favour from an old friend and booked us a free Christmas bauble painting workshop.” He announces, looking pleased with him. You squint at him and grimace just a little.

“I don’t know if you know this, Taehyung, but I am terrible at drawing. I’m so bad that in highschool all these kids signed a petition to ban me from it.” You say, completely serious. He stares at you, bewildered for a moment.

“Surely it can’t be that bad?” He wonders aloud. You just shake your head grimly at him.

One shopping trip later, Taehyung discovers that it is, in fact, that bad.

“What did Rudolph ever do to deserve this?” He questions in abject horror. You feel your cheeks heat as you curl your hands protectively over your glass bauble.

“It’s not that bad!” You insist. And then you hesitate. “Is it?”

Taehyung pries your fingers back to expose your masterpiece- splotchy brown paint, sparkles, and a lovely dollop of red paint in the centre.

“(Y/N).” He says seriously. “It looks like someone walks into Santa’s stable, massacred all the reindeer and then scattered glitter over the scene of the crime.”

You squint at your painting, and, depressingly enough, his description is more accurate than what it’s meant to be. It was meant to be Rudolph, smiling happily through the glass of the bauble.

“Forget it.” You snap, setting the glass bauble down and moving to get up. “This is stupid, anyway- we still have to pick up a mattress protector for your bed.”

“Wait!” He laughs, grabbing at your sleeve before you can make a hasty retreat. A firm tug from his has you landing back in your seat, face to face with the awful paint spill you call a painting. “I’m sorry! Just relax, ok? This is supposed to be fun.”

“I’m not having fun.” You sniff. “I told you I wasn’t good at painting and now you’re laughing at me.”

Taehyung winces.

“Well... it’s not totally unsalvageable.” He finally compromises. He picks up the bauble, examining it for a moment. And then he picks up the paintbrush, and with quick, precise strokes of his paintbrush, he morphs the brown splotch formally known as Rudolph into a sort of sleigh-shape, and the red-splotch is rounded into the curve of Santa’s belly. “There.” He says, satisfied. You blink in wonder at the new creation. It’s still a little ugly and a little streaky, but it definitely doesn’t look like someone went on a Christmas-killing spree. “How’s that? Now you just have to decorate the sleigh an add sparkles. Surely you can’t mess that up.”

“You underestimate me.” You deadpan at him, and to your surprise, he snorts with laughter. A couple of the other people painting baubles glare at you, and Taehyung merely offers them a merry grin.

“There used to be an elf like you at Santa’s workshop. No matter what he did, he’s somehow always mess up painting the toys.” Taehyung recalls, shaking his head fondly. “The two of you would get along.”

It’s the second time he’s mentioned it, and this time you can’t keep your curiosity at bay.

“So... does that mean you’ve met with Santa? The Northpole and all that is a thing?” You ask. Taehyung nods.

“It sure is! It’s where all Christmas Spirits grow up. We get raised there and taught about the best ways to spread Christmas cheer and then we get sent out to spread the cheer.” He sighs warmly. “I was top of my class.”

You grimace as you picture it. Dozens of Christmas Scarecrows, sitting at tables, studying books on how to paint the perfect Christmas bauble.

“And so you just... get kicked out after a certain age? They raise you and send you out to sit on a shelf for eleven months of the year and then follow silly Christmas traditions for the last one?” You question him, and for a moment you’re horrified by the loneliness of such an existence. “Wouldn’t you... just get sick of Christmas? Spending your life only ever being in Christmas mode?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Taeyung reminds you as he sprinkles glitter over his painting of a snowman. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea, but you feel like he’s slapped you. “This is my first official Christmas on the job, remember? I haven’t had a chance to get sick of it yet.”

That makes you go silent.

Taehyung seems to pick up on the way the mood has shifted. He stops detailing the buttons of his snowman painting and glances at you. Your eyes are wide and slightly misty.

He’s never felt particularly sorry for himself. Sure, the many years he’s spent gathering dust on a shelf have been lonely. He missed his friends, and all he could ever dream of was getting to sit on a mantle as he watched a family enjoy Christmas. That would be the closest he’d ever get, and that’s been his dream for so long.

But for some reason, with you looking at him like that, the ache that he’s sought so hard to push down resurfaces. It’s like a damn breaking; it’s soothing. To have someone look at him and actually be acknowledging how hard and lonely and painful what he went through was.

“I’m ok now.” He reassures you, though his voice is a little hoarse. The sheen to his eyes is a little less brilliant, and your heart aches for him as you process the twenty-five year wait that Taehyung has endured. “After all, someone welcomed me into their home, right?”

You blink- that someone is you. You’ve welcomed Taehyung into your home. Christmas is perhaps even lonelier for Taehyung than it is for you, and yet all he seems to want to do is make it enjoyable for you.

You duck your head, distracting yourself by stirring the tip of your paintbrush in the bright red paint.

“I guess so.” You finally say. You offer him a tentative smile. “I guess I have a responsibility to make this your best Christmas ever, then.” You resolve.

Taehyung is silent for such a prolonged moment that you’re forced to face him again to ensure he hasn’t died. When you do, what you find is him gaping at you like a Christmas tree just sprouted from between your eyebrows.

“What?” You question, a little defensively. It’s hard to interpret the look on his face.

He shakes himself, coming back to his senses.

“Nothing.” He reassures you. “I just realised that you’re a bit rare to smile, is all.”

Something about the look in his eyes has you feeling flustered- your fingers tremble enough that you knock over the glitter and it spills across Taehyung’s newly bought trousers. You get up quickly, horrified, but he laughs it off.

“I think we’ve done enough damage to these baubles.” He says with a warm smile. “We still have things to buy, right?”

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Taehyung drags you from store to store, excited by the smallest things. He stares at a Christmas-themed hot chocolate for so long that you end up having to buy it for him. The look of gratefulness in his eyes is unparalleled and almost makes up for the fact that you literally have to plead with him to buy actual clothes and not just ridiculous Christmas Sweaters. In the evening, you wonder the shopping district, appreciating the lights that line the main street in brilliant arrays.

When you slump down on your couch beside Taehyung that night, showered and ready for bed, you’re exhausted to the bones. Oddly, it’s not the same kind of tiredness you feel after a long week at work or after you’ve had a long argument with your mother. Instead, it’s a satisfying fatigue- like you’ll drift off quickly and dream of christmas lights and children’s laughter.

“How did I do for my first day?” Taehyung yawns from where he is sprawled on the couch in a similar position to you.

“Good.” You say, turning your head to glance at him. The dim light of your living room softens the slope of his nose, and his dark eyes catch flashes of the light that makes it seem like his irises are tiny little galaxies. There’s something so inherently peaceful about the warmth of his presence beside yours .

“I’m glad.” He says, though his lashes flutter and you too find yourself fighting off the comforting waves of sleep. He shifts and turns his head so that his cheek rests against the couch and he gazes at you. “Hey (Y/N)?” He calls gently.

Your eyes are closed by this state.

“Hmm?” You hum, in acknowledgement of his statement. He’s quiet for a moment before he ask.

“Why did you want to spend Christmas alone?” He asks. You blink open your eyes and look back at him. His gaze is steady and unwavering. But it’s not scolding or judgemental- instead he just seems curious.

“You told me about your parent’s divorce and all their fighting on Christmas... but I heard the way you spoke to your mother on the phone too. You want to spend Christmas with her, don’t you? You just... can’t?” He asks. “You said you didn’t want the Christmas cheer... but you still took me home and decorated for Christmas. You painted the baubles and drank the hot cocoa and did the Christmas shopping... why do you pretend to hate it all?”

If it were anyone else, you would probably stop the conversation there. You have no interest in delving into your long, complex family history only to be met with looks of confusion, or worse, pity.

But somehow, in the short space of a mere week, Taehyung has become someone you feel safe opening up to. Perhaps it’s because he’s already heard your whole story already. Or maybe because of the way he genuinely just wants to see you smile despite there being no substantial gain for him other than job satisfaction. Or because he’s proven himself trustworthy in the little ways he’s slotted himself into your life, like sharing meals. Whatever the reason, you don’t clam up like you usually do.

“I don’t pretend to hate it.” You tell him softly. “I just got sick of trying to love it.”

Taehyung is silent for a long period of time. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, exhausted and sleepy. The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and the moment is strangely intimate.

Then he smiles.

“Then I’ll keep trying for you.” He promises.

The two of you don’t manage to stay awake for much longer. Eventually the long day catches up to you- you drift off first, with one of those rare but peaceful smiles on your face, and Taehyung follows suit soon after.

The week that follows is one of the worst you’ve had in a while. You’re putting in ridiculous amounts of overtime and everyone is a little on edge from sheer exhaustion and the mounting stress of deadlines.

And in that time, Taehyung is honestly a lifesaver. It’s remarkable, being able to come home from another hellish day at work to find him with dinner ready and a crappy Christmas movie set up. You spend your evenings laughing and unwinding. It’s not like you don’t have friends who will come rushing if you tell them you’ve had a bad day, but there’s something special about the way Taehyung does it. With bright smiles and easy laughs and an infectious joy that seems to chase the fatigue that plagues you away.

It’s towards the end of the week that you hit your limit. You’re not really the type to cry much. You’ve always been fiercely independent, and your upbringing meant that you were the kind of child to retire to your room and work things out for yourself when you felt the need to cry. It’s not like crying ever really achieved anything. Maybe the occasional sad scene in a movie would get you, but usually you’re the kind to feel sad internally.

But after this particular day, you’re close to tears. Your boss had yelled at you, one of the major projects you had been working on just hit a major snag, and you found out your favourite coworker was leaving.

All you can thing about as you walk in the door is spending another peaceful evening with Taehyung. You’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time to expand his taste past cheesy Christmas movies and had even made a list of films he may like during his lunch break. You swing open the door to your home, eagerly rushing in and calling out to Taehyung so that he knows you’re home.

And that’s when your phone goes off.

It’s your father, probably the last person you want to talk to right now.

Unlike your mother, who at least was trying to make up for the ways she’s screwed up in your upbringing, your father has never acknowledged his part in their divorce. It was always what your mother did wrong, how she let him down, how it was because she changed and wanted different things. He was the kind of man who always wanted a big family, and he had adored your mother at first. But her pregnancy with you had been difficult and you had, admittedly, been a sickly child. She’s never outright said the words, but you suspect postpartum depression might have played a part in her downward spiral. Either way, she had resolved to have no further children after you, something your father was heavily against.

You suppose it can’t have been easy- your father had been in love and the two of them had agreed on the kind of future they wanted together- the kind filled with children, a quiet suburban life not far from either of their parents. And for your mother to change so suddenly and drastically would have been devastating and incomprehensible to your father.

Still, you can’t help the resentment and hurt you feel towards him. Why did you have to get caught in the crossfire of his heartbreak? And then the icing on the cake was his remarriage.

His wife is a lovely woman. Coming into the marriage with three children of her own, she had treated you with the same love and kindness she expected of your father towards her children. Her children, however, were not bound to such conduct, and made it their personal mission to make your life a living hell. Perhaps they felt insecure over the fact that your father was related to you by blood and they weren’t.

Either way, it put him in a difficult position- perhaps he felt he couldn’t tell them to back off without it coming across as favouritism. But he could have done something- spoken to his wife, or chosen you before the family he married into. But he didn’t. He ignored it and turned a blind eye and to this day he continues to pretend that things are normal. Especially after the birth of your half-sibling.

“Hi.” You say, as you answer the phone. Taehyung has stepped into the entryway with you, watching curiously as you answer the phone.

“Hi sweetheart!” Your dad calls on the other side of the line. You wince at the unwelcome nickname.

“To... to what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask. You can hear a loud racket in the background. Its probably your half-sister. She’s always been on the louder side, even as a baby.

“Nothing! I was just thinking it’s been a while since we last chatted. You haven’t been returning my calls.” You have no doubt the sadness in his voice is genuine, yet somehow it feels insincere.

“I’ve just been really busy at work.” You lie, rather than admit you had seen the missed calls from him and not even bothered to listen to the messages he left. “I haven’t had a chance to call you back.”

“Right... right. No, that’s fine. I’m sure your very busy.” He rushes to reassure you. “I was just calling because your mother contacted me. She was hoping I could convince you to spend Christmas with us.”

You stiffen at the familiar topic. You had thought it had been a little too quiet on her end. Perhaps she had thought that if she couldn’t convince you to come home, maybe your father could. She’s always had this idea in her head that maybe you aren’t close to her because you prefer your father, and it’s not like she can handle having a long enough conversation with him to find out she’s wrong. It’s surprising she even managed to let him know your plans for Christmas.

“It’s fine. Like I told mum, I’d really much rather spend it here this year. Besides, I thought you all were going away for Christmas this year? We already spent Christmas together last year.” You say, pointedly trying to remind him that Christmas isn’t even a yearly thing with him. He does the contractual every-second-year with you, and then plans fun events with his family on the years he isn’t stuck babysitting.

“That’s true. But that’s why I’m calling! It took a bit of convincing, but there’s a spot on this trip with your name on it, if you want it.” He tells you. He almost sounds excited, like he’s really done something thoughtful and kind. Not just made some last-minute attempts to shoehorn you in. The invite hadn’t been there to start with, after all. It’s only as an afterthought that he’s made any attempt to add you in- a chance to pretend like things are good. Like the two of you aren’t on rocky terms the rest of the year. Like you’re close enough to go on holidays with your stepfamily.

“I think I’m fine dad.” You finally say. Taehyung is watching the expressions play across your face with mild curiosity. He probably can’t hear your father’s voice on the other line, but he can see the anger on your face, and hear the wobble to your tone. “You have fun on your trip. I’ll make do here.”

There’s a beat of silence and you hear your father sigh. You grimace- that’s his pre-scolding sigh. The sigh he gives before any lecture he thinks you’ve earned. As if he has any parental claim to scolding you.

“(Y/N),” your father begins. “It’s Christmas. Don’t be like this- you should be spending time with your family-“

“I did.” You cut him off, and you surprise yourself with the way tears fill your eyes. You squint, trying to keep them at bay. Taehyung watches with alarm as he registers the way you are on the verge of crying. “I spent every year. With you and mum. And then you and then mum and then you and then mum. I tried for so. damn. long. to do the family Christmas thing, but all it ever ended in was the two of you letting me down. Mum was too drunk or you were too busy. And yeah, maybe you guys were going through your own stuff. But don’t you dare try and tell me that Christmas is about family because if that’s what family is, I don’t want it. At least if I spend Christmas alone, neither of you can let me down.” You snarl into the phone line.

Your father is silent after your outburst. Taehyung watches you, waiting for your response.

And the tears finally spill forth, rolling down your cheeks.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, then I won’t stop you.” Your father finally says. He sounds hurt, as if you’re the one who’s hurt him. “I guess we’ll see you in the new year. Your sister’s birthday is coming up and Rachel wants to have a big party since she’s ten this year.”

“I’ll see you then.” You say, your throat raspy and your voice small.

You’ve barely hung up the call before two strong arms have wrapped around your figure. You go stiff in Taehyung’s arms. This is probably the first time he’s hugged you, and it isn’t unpleasant. Instead, the scent of gingerbread and peppermint fills your nose and it’s strangely soothing. You shift and turn your head just slightly so that your face is buried into the soft cream of his jumper, one of the fresh purchases from the other day.

“You can cry if you like.” He tells you, and you feel the words rumble from deep in his chest. “I won’t look.” He promises. “That was painful for me to hear, and it’s not even my dad- if you want to cry, then cry.” His voice cracks on the end of his sentence, and you abruptly realise that Taehyung is crying. He’s known you for just a short couple of weeks, and the only nice thing you’ve done for him is not drop a tacky Christmas Scarecrow back into a box of junk, and yet he’s crying just from hearing your half of a painful phone call.

Perhaps it’s the permission you need. For all of the long, lonely years you were stuck in the middle of feuding exes, you never gave yourself permission to cry. Instead, you’d retire to your room, pressing a pillow to your ears to drown out the sounds of screaming.

For a long time, you just stand there, sobbing into Taehyung’s arms. He runs his hands soothingly over the back of your hair, and eventually the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulls you into a sense of peace.

Taehyung is quick to act from there- before long, you are forcefully seated on your couch with a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Taehyung crouches before you, swiping at the tear trails on your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks cautiously. You grimace and shake your head.

“It’s just the same old stuff.” You reassure him. “Long day at work; daddy issues; the usual standard.”

Taehyung smiles and settles himself beside you on the couch, tugging the blanket from your hands so that he can curl under it.

“Good thing your personal Christmas Spirit is here to save the season.” He whispers conspiratorially. He leans forward towards the coffee table and grabs your iPad, before pulling it into the safe cocoon of your blanket. “I’ve been researching all day! Tomorrow’s your day off, so it’s week 2 of spreading Christmas cheer.” He announces, unlocking the iPad and scrolling through the internet page he has open.

You nearly choke on your hot chocolate.

“Taehyung,” you rasp. Your oesophagus is probably blistering as you speak. “That’s a page for date ideas. This stuff is all for couples.”

“We are a couple.” Taehyung answers, confused. He points to himself and then to you. “A couple of people.” And then he grins at you and you realise he was teasing.

You snort and can’t hold back your laugh. Taehyung’s smile softens and he leans into your personal space.

“There it is.” He remarks. Wonder fills his tone. “That lovely smile.” He taps the tip of your nose fondly.

The smile slips off your face at his words. Lovely? Your smile? He thinks your smile is lovely?

A weird, electric feeling fills you at the thought, and you lean away from him quickly before your stupid heart can get any funny ideas. He didn’t mean anything by that compliment. He’s a Christmas Spirit- it’s literally his job to make you smile. You won’t overthink it and ruin this strange but precious arrangement you have going on.

Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look hurt or uncomfortable at the way you’d blatantly pulled away from him. Instead, his smile widens.

“Good idea. You gotta rest up those smiling muscles for tomorrow or you’ll get a cramp.” He tells you. He then gets up and and stretches, letting out a tremendous yawn. He glances over his shoulder at you with a wink. “Prepare yourself for the best day ever.”

Said “best day ever” begins with you staring listlessly up at your ceiling. Taehyung had talked big the night before, promising you a day of fun and enjoyment.

But you just can’t picture it. You’ve spoken to coworkers and friends before, about the excitement of Christmas. How they see lights or hear carols or even smelling gingerbread triggers this warm, nostalgic and joyful feeling deep in their hearts. But you’ve always felt nothing. Christmas has always been just another day, to you.

With a sigh, you roll out of bed.

Out in your living room, Taehyung is fidgeting with your smart tv, trying to get it to play what looks like Mariah Carey’s rendition of “All I want for Christmas is you”. He’s mumbling to himself, and his santa’s hat droops lower and lower on his head. The little white pompom at the end brushes his nose, and the bright red strands of hair that peak out from beneath the cap stick out in every direction.

Apart from the santa’s hat, he’s dressed remarkably stylishly. That had been a big surprise on your little outing the week before- his impeccable fashion taste. Today he’s wearing a soft, fuzzy red cardigan over a large white t-shirt and tan trousers.

“The volume’s off.” You inform him. He starts, glancing at you in surprise, before confirming that he has accidentally managed to turn the volume all the way down. “You operate technology like a grandpa.”

Taehyung grins as you take the remote from him, adjusting the volume and selecting the song so that the familiar opening begins to chime through your speakers.

“You say that like I didn’t catch you yelling at your printer two nights ago.” He chuckles. “Are you ready for our ultimate Christmas adventure?”

He must catch the way your guard goes up, because his smile softens from something amused into something more gentle and comforting.

“Nervous?” He asks. You hesitate, just a moment, before offering a terse nod.

“Sorry.” You finally settle on. “I just... I’ve tried the “christmas cheer” thing. And it didn’t work Tae. I just feel like... Christmas is just another day.”

“That’s because it is just another day.” He reminds you. “But if you give it a chance, it can be more.”

You bite your lip hesitantly, and he shakes his head.

“What if you didn’t think about it like Christmas?” He asks. “How about, today is a day for me to cheer you up after a long week. We’re gonna do fun things and enjoy ourself because we want to. Does that sound doable?”

It does. It’s strangely reassuring and low pressure, and something about his words and the patient, warm light to his eyes puts you at ease. You don’t know why you feel so much pressure about enjoying Christmas but maybe it’s because you don’t want to let Taehyung down. He has so much riding on this Christmas and you don’t want to be the person who ruins Christmas for him. Who makes its a tedious, miserable event like your parents did for you.

And maybe a small part of you wants to enjoy the season for you. To claim back the years lost to misery and fighting and to share in the merriment that everyone else holds.

“Ok.” You finally agree. “Lead the way.”

Taehyung beams in response.

First on the agenda seems to be in the park in the centre of your city. Not every year in this place has a white Christmas- some Christmases are just cold and muddy, with a thin layer of ice over dirty pavements. This particular Christmas has been quite frosty, and quite early on- the first snowfall had been earlier that week and now a thick layer of snow coats the ground and clings to thick winter coats.

“Tadaa!” Taehyung proclaims, waving a hand out towards your first activity of the day. An open carriage, decked out in sleigh bells, and two gorgeous white horses, standing tall and sleek in their crystalline surroundings.

You creep closer, and their handler spots you. He’s a cheerful man in a formal suit, offset by the bright red santa hat atop his head. He matches Taehyung, who seems reluctant to part with his beloved accessory no matter the time of day.

“You must be (Y/N),” the old man cheers, crowding closer. His horses snort and stamp their feet at his excitement, but he pays them no mind, instead skittering forward to greet you. “Taehyung has told me all about you! Come, get yourself seated and we’ll begin the tour.”

You glance at Taehyung, who merely shoos you encouragingly towards the carriage.

“How did you afford this?” You hiss at him. He shrugs and smiles.

“Christmas spirits have connections.” He whispers, before placing a hand on either side of your waist. You smother a yelp as you feel him practically lift you up the first step, and it doesn’t take you much encouragement to scramble onto your seat from there. It’s a vain attempt to distract yourself from the feeling of his large hands encircling your waist.

“All seated?” Your guide questions. Taehyung nods as he scoots in close to you and that’s really all the warning you get before the carriage lurches forward.

You steady yourself with a yelp, and an arm around you from Taehyung keeps you upright. You glance at him in surprise and are momentarily caught off-guard by his profile. A thin, delicate smattering of snowflakes has been caught on the breeze and they catch on his hair and lashes. The tip of his nose has gone endearingly red in the cold.

He turns his gaze when he feels your stare and he grins.

“Enjoying the sights?” He wonders innocently. You grimace and look away. He merely laughs. “Let me explain to you the logic behind our first activity of the day. First of all, it came as a package with the activity my friend got me for free. Secondly, I thought that it might help you see how little perspective can make the things you see every day so much more special.” He finishes his explanation by pointing an arm across you to gesture at the scenery of the park. He’s right; you’ve seen this scenery hundreds of times, across all seasons, but there’s something special about it in the moment. The warmth of families, covered in thick, puffy jackets, the flutter of chilly snowflakes against your skin, the sheen of frost over the pond on the far end of the park. It’s all familiar and yet in that moment, surrounded by the glimmering sound of sleigh-bells and the stead thud of horse shoes against the pavement, the park you’ve known since moving to this city is different, magical.

The carriage pulls to a stop beside a crowded pavillion. On the other side, you can glimpse people taking advantage of the outdoor figure skating rink thats set up in the park over winter.

“Is this our second stop?” You ask Taehyung, as he helps you alight from the carriage. Oddly, though he grasps your hand as he helps you down, he doesn’t release it once you’re on solid ground. Instead, he keeps his fingers wrapped around yours as he waves farewell to the carriage driver.

“You guessed it!” He congratulates you. “Stop number two; appreciating the fun of winter! Nothing screams winter wonderland like a figure skating rink.”

“Can you skate?” You ask him as he leads you to the skate rental counter.

“No?” He asks. “But how hard can it be, right? It looked really easy on all the videos I watched in preparation.”

A short while later, you get to bear witness to Taehyung learning just how hard figure skating can be.

“It’s just like walking.” You attempt to soothe him, all the while wincing at the vice-like grip he has on your hands. “Just keep standing upright.”

“Have I always been this tall?” Taehyung breathes. He’s gone deathly pale, and you don’t think the cold is the reason behind it. “Why is the ground so far away?”

“You can do it.” You urge, still allowing him to cling onto your forearms like he’s about to plummet off a cliff edge and you are the only thing keeping him from certain death. “Come on, Tae.”

He shoots up straight, eyes widening at the sudden nickname. Unfortunately, it’s the wrong move, because he topples forward, and the only thing keeping him from lying face-down on the ice is you. You’re toppling backwards before you can stop yourself.

Taehyung yelps and you brace yourself for your head to impact against the hard ice, but it never comes. Instead your head lands in the firm cushion of Taehyung’s palm. Somehow, in the chaos of slipping, he’s landed on top of you but managed to stop you from banging your head.

You blink open your eyes and for a moment, your senses are overwhelmed with the scent of peppermint and the warm brown of his eyes. He looks just as startled as you are. You feel your face heat and his breath puffs warm against your cheeks, contrasting the chill of the air.

“Maybe figure skating isn’t for me.” He volunteers sheepishly.

You can’t help but offer a crooked smile. He’s so silly but it’s strangely endearing. He looks surprised at your smile, and it seems that’s the moment he abruptly realises the position you’re in. Quickly, he scrambles off you and helps you into a sitting position.

“Sorry.” He says glumly. “I thought it would be fun, but clearly I overestimated myself.”

You get to your feet and offer a hand to help him get up. He looks nervously at your outstretched hand.

“It is fun.” You reassure him. “And it can still be fun. Just hold on to me, and trust me ok?”

Something in his gaze softens and he accepts your outstretched hand. It takes a bit, but with an arm around his chest, you manage to stabilise him between yourself and the wall of the ice-skating rink.

He peeks up at you through his bright red fringe. His santa’s hat sits lopsided on his head. The smile he gives you this time is different from all the other ones. It’s not as ecstatic or joy-filled. This one is more reserved, almost shy; you feel a bit like you’ve been punched in the chest for some reason when you see it.

You stretch out your hands again, your hands flat and palms extended skywards, and he place one hand into each of your palms. Even through your thick gloves, your skin feels oddly warm when he holds you.

Gently, you take slow, gliding steps backwards, while he follows with much smaller, much more jilted steps.

“It’s just like walking, but smoother.” You explain, and the words are forced through a tight throat. Perhaps the cold is getting to you- that’s the only explanation you can think of for why you suddenly feel so short of breath.

Taehyung nods, focussing hard on the ice. He gives a big exhale that releases in a huge, cloudy breath, and presses one foot forward. And then the other. It’s not long before he’s gliding along before you.

“That’s it!” You cheer. “I’m going to let go of one hand now, ok? I can’t keep skating backwards or I’ll crash into someone.”

Taehyung looks a bit fearful, but then he nods with determination lighting his eyes. Slowly, you release one hand and spin so that you’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him. He still maintains a death grip on the hand that’s still grasping his, but he manages to stay upright and not go tipping forward.

“Ok, here we go.” You say, and you take one step forward, followed by a second, and then a third and before you know it, you and Taehyung are drifting across the ice, albeit slowly and with lots of breaks to allow Taehyung to steady himself on the wall.

It’s actually quite fun, and relaxing, gliding across the ice like this. Music crackles through the speakers, and the people around you are all enjoying themselves. Surrounded by the bright flurry of December snow, it’s easy to smile and let loose and enjoy the season.

Eventually, the cold does manage to catch up with you, but Taehyung’s quick to press on to the next scheduled activity before you can feel too sad that the ice skating is over.

He crowds you off the ice, eagerly urging you forward with a hand planted on either shoulder.

“Hurry! We’re going to be late!!” He informs you. You deliberately slow down at that and he gets so huffy and impatient at your silliness that you find yourself laughing.

After warming yourselves up with a hot chocolate and some lunch in the warmth of a well-heated cafe, it’s starting to get a bit dark by the time Taehyung leads you to your final activity. He refuses to say what it is- instead he leads you in an increasingly convoluted route on public transport. He gets more and more amused the more unfamiliar with your destination you become, and by the time you step off the bus on the snowy outskirts of the city, you’re starting to think the whole Christmas Spirit thing was an act designed to murder you in a forest somewhere.

Particularly when he claps a hand over each eye, obscuring your vision.

“Taehyung,” you sigh. “If this is how you’re going to murder me, can’t you at least let me see the knife coming?”

“I’m not going to murder you.” He scoffs, though with gentle pressure, he leads you forward, his chest pressed protectively to your back. “I just want to surprise you.”

“I’m very easily surprised.” You remind him. “I don’t need to be blind in a forest to be surprised. Just give me a box of chocolates after a long day of work or something.”

“Hush.” He shushes you. “Just walk, and trust me.”

You take a deep, inhaling breath and your lungs fill with what has become the calming, warm scent of peppermint and cinnamon. It’s Taehyung, you remind yourself. He’s had plenty of opportunity to hurt you or scam you or even kill you but instead all he’s done is wait eagerly for you to return home and watch tacky Christmas movies with you.

“Ok.” He says, against your ear, and you shiver at the heat of his mouth tickling the cold tips of your ears. “Are you ready?”

Words fail you for some mysterious reason, so you settle for nodding mutely.

Taehyung drops his hands from your eyes and it takes you a few blinks to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light.

What lies before you is a long, brightly lit pathway. Market stalls line the paths, with vendors brandishing their wares. Fairly lights string across the stalls, in various tones ranging from warm-toned white lights to festive blues, greens, reds. Overhead, brilliant archways decorated with marvellous, intricate arrays of Christmas lights mark the path.

“What... what is this, Tae?” You breathe. Your chest hurts a little and this time you’re willing to admit that it has nothing to do with the cold.

“This is the Annual Christmas Markets.” He announces proudly. “Brought to you by your local council and sponsored by Subway (sandwiches not included).”

You take hesitant, wondering steps forward. You don’t really have any words for the strange, ballooning feeling in your chest. Like your heart is so full it’s about to burst. You feel on the verge of tears yet at the same time you feel free and light and happy.

“It’s so... pretty.” You say. Taehyung beams and steps in close so that he’s shoulder to shoulder with you.

“Pretty magical, huh?” He asks you. “I found it on google! Did you know the city throws this event every year?”

You shake your head wonderingly.

“I had no idea.” You admit. He tilts his head towards the festivities.

“Then let’s explore!” He cries, tugging you forward with a hand wrapped around yours.

There’s lots to do around the markets. There’s christmas light sculptures scattered around, like a scavenger hunt of sorts. Taehyung’s favourite is the one of a santa formed from wires twisted together, skiing across the snow on a sleigh, two reindeers are standing tall. Your favourite is probably a tunnel of lights, tightly woven together to create an archway as people weave through it- you like the way it turns Taehyung’s bright red hair into brilliant licks of flames, and how his eyes look like they hold the entire night sky within their depths.

There’s a mulled wine stall, although Taehyung pulls a face at the taste and you have to buy him a hot chocolate to get him to forgive you.

“I just don’t understand how anyone can dislike Christmas carols!” Taehyung protests across his hot chocolate as the night progresses. You’re nearing the edge of the market stalls, which open up onto a big open space, paved with asphalt and with the snow scraped off it where various families and groups of people are starting to gather. Most of them are in parked vehicles, all facing towards a central stage that hasn’t been lit up yet.

“If you talk to anyone who works in retail, they just get repetitive after a while.” You explain. “I mean, “Last Christmas” is a good song in theory, but not after the six repeats that played before your lunch break.”

Taehyung “tsk”’s and shakes his head.

“I think you just have the wrong associations with the songs.” He sighs. “If you associate it with work and bad things, of course you won’t like it! You have to make positive memories and think of those when you hear the songs.”

The stage lights up ahead of you and a small band starts to take the stage. You gaze at the performers as they prepare.

“Any suggestions?” You ask softly. You surprise yourself, and when you look at Taehyung, he looks a little stunned to. “To make positive memories. What should I think of instead, when I hear those songs?”

He searches your gaze for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth quirks in a little half smile.

“Follow me.” He urges, leading you across the asphalt towards the stage. You have to duck between parked cars where people have makeshift little dens to enjoy the show from. He brings you to a stop where there’s a bit of a space just before the stage. A few couples have already taken advantage of what is essentially a dance floor. He spins around and pulls you in close. You stumble a little, not expecting the movement, but it seems he was expecting that. He steadies you with a hand against your waist and tugs one of your free arms up to rest on his shoulder. “When you hear this song... you can think about today.” He tells you with a smile. “And about all the fun we had!”

He begins to sway you back and forth in a slow turn. You wonder why his weird Christmas Spirit school taught him how to slow dance. Up on the stage, the singer begins to croon the opening notes of “have yourself a merry little christmas”. You tell yourself its the cold that urges you to shuffle in closer to Taehyung as he sways you from side to side. He’s so warm, and solid. Unbidden, your heart starts to beat a little faster, and when you raise your eyes to meet his, something about the warmth in those dazzling depths has you feeling light-headed.

“What do you think about when you hear them?” You ask him, changing the subject in an attempt to overcome the strange, overwhelming emotion you suddenly feel weighted with. He spins you out in a twirl, before tugging you back in.

“Hmm...” he contemplates. “I think about hot chocolates, and snowball fights, and the smell of Christmas trees. And Christmas lights and Christmas bells.” He lists, his gaze hazy as he thinks through his list. It’s a bit of a scary thought, but you could honestly stay here forever, watching Taehyung list the things he loves, being swayed gently in his arms. And then he glances down at you and there’s something so warm and fond in his expression that you feel your face heat. “And I think about your smile.”

A funny thing happens in that moment, after his confession. Your heart goes on strike for a moment- even she seems shocked at the sudden turn of events. And then suddenly the air is electric, and all your senses are just filled with Taehyung. His smell, his eyes, his hair, his warmth... his lips.

It’s a sudden revelation, like being struck by lightening. The look in his eyes seems to thread into your veins, leaving burning trails in its wake. His scent washes into the very bottom of your lungs. You like him. In a very short amount of time, he’s wiggled past all your defences and now here you are, standing in his arms, and you realise you want to stay there. You want to keep seeing his smile and keep spending time with him and you don’t want this Christmas to end.

The songs draws to a close and you step away from his embrace. He seems to sense your sudden change in mood.

“Is everything ok?” He asks you and you nod, smiling in a way you hope is reassuring.

“Yeah. I just noticed how cold it’s getting, is all. Shall we head back home?” You ask. Taehyung blinks and glances around as if he’s just now realising how cold it is. He shivers and steps in close to you.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He admits. “Let’s head home.” He wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your biceps to try and warm you up. “Did you have fun, though?” He asks eagerly.

“Yeah.” You say, and this time the smile isn’t forced. “Yeah, I did.”

A week later, you’re stressed and bustling around the kitchen like a madwoman.

“Is it golden brown yet or is it just the oven light?” Taehyung wonders, attempting to peer into your oven without opening the door. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just check now?”

Your realisation of your feelings hadn’t changed too much around the apartment. As work for the year finally drew to a close this week, you hadn’t really had a chance to overthink it, and then you’d been busy planning a pre-Christmas dinner upon learning that Taehyung has always wanted to try a family Christmas dinner. You’d insisted upon throwing one despite his protests that he was the Christmas Spirit, not you. Finally, he had relented, and you were keen to return all the memories he had given you tenfold.

Only a couple of your friends had still been without plans, this late into December. Jin always manages to make time where food is involved, and Dahyun had had to cancel flights back home for the year. She’s also dragging along an old friend of hers, Jungkook, and then Nayeon had invited Namjoon and Jihyo. They’re all good friends of yours, but there’s something about organising a home-cooked Christmas meal that is just inherently stressful.

“The recipe says another ten minutes.” You remind Taehyung in between your attempts to both whip the cream for dessert and finish placing all the appetisers into sufficiently aesthetic containers.

Taehyung frowns, and straightens. He watches you dance around in a frazzled manner for a few minutes, before catching you by the shoulders.

“Hey.” He scolds. “I know I said I wanted a Christmas dinner, but not at the expense of your sanity. I don’t appreciate you undoing all my hard work of making you enjoy Christmas.”

You stiffen at the warmth of his palms against your shoulders before taking a deep breath.

“You’re right.” You finally say. “I’m sorry. I just... I want you to have a good time. I’ve had so much fun these past few weeks and I want you to feel what I feel. I never thought I could ever look forward to something like Christmas, and yet here I am, throwing an entire Christmas dinner.”

“Seeing you enjoy Christmas and smiling like this makes me feel happier than you can imagine, (Y/N),” Taehyung reassures you. “This dinner is just a bonus. I’m grateful for it, but what would make me feel the best is if you’re having a good time.”

There he goes again. He’s remarkably smooth for a strange mystical being that was raised in the North Pole. He’s just so good at making your stomach feel like it’s filled with butterflies and making your heart forget to beat. With a deep, resigned sigh, you nod to him.

“Ok. I’ll chill out.” You promise, before returning to your preparations in a far more mellow manner.

Guests start trickling in. Jin just barely manages to avoid a throttling when you see him, after his stunt where he didn’t show up when there was an intruder in your home. It all worked out fine, but it’s always offensive to learn that your friend would leave you to die because he had “an oven emergency”. Jungkook and Dahyun come in bickering over the intricacies over some meme they’d seen, and Jihyo drags in far too much alcohol for the night.

The night settles into a comfortable sort of atmosphere- people scatter across the living space of your apartment, catching up and just generally enjoying the vibe. Taehyung gets a few probing questions into the nature of your relationship and Jin seems to develop some sort of facial tic with all the eyebrow wagging he’s doing, but otherwise things go smoothly.

At least until it becomes apparent that Jin had taken the liberty of doing some decorating of his own while you were setting up for dinner.

Namjoon and Jihyo are the first of the victims to the numerous mistletoes Jin has concealed around your home. Luckily, they are dating and so it’s just a quick peck between them to the sounds of laughter and hooting.

At least until the other attendees realise that if Jin has hidden multiple mistletoes around your home, at any moment they could fall victim to a dreaded mistletoe kiss, with a completely undesired partner.

From there, things devolve into a terrified, suspicious sort of scavenger hunt. Jin thinks it’s hilarious, watching you all scour the place like sniffer dogs, comfortably reclined on the couch as he shouts out hints that could be true or could be total lies. It’s always hard to tell with him.

Of course Taehyung, poor, sweet naive Taehyung, had missed the dramatic revelation of Jin’s prank. He had been in the kitchen, dutifully monitoring dessert as it slowly cooked in the oven, and he had only stepped out to check with you when you thought it would be done.

You feel him tap your shoulder in the middle of combing through your mantle, making sure Jin hadn’t hidden anything amidst the photo frames and decorations that sat there. You jump, surprised, and turn to face him.

Only for Jin’s screeching laughter to reach you.

“Victims number 2!” He calls triumphantly. Taehyung looks confused, and you grimace as you finally spot the offending object. A small bit of mistletoe twisted in amongst the tinsel lining your ceiling. You’re not even sure how the madman actually got it there without anyone noticing.

“Mistletoe!” Dahyun chants, from where she’d been pressed into a corner and snarling at anyone who dared walk close enough to her lest she too fall victim to the mistletoe. “Mistletoe. Mistletoe. Mistletoe.” Slowly everyone joins the chant until your apartment sounds a bit like a cult.

“Let’s not be hasty!” You plead. “Think about it. If you let me off, then we can all ignore this silly tradition.”

Taehyung, interestingly, has gone very still upon realising the two of you stand beneath a mistletoe.

“(Y/N).” he calls, audible only to you beneath the chanting. “We can’t leave. It’s a mistletoe- I have to.”

You squint at him.

“What do you mean? It’s just a silly tradition, why would you have to-“ you begin, before trailing away as it occurs to your that Taehyung is actually not a human. This isn’t two friends caught beneath a mistletoe and talking their way out of a silly tradition. Taehyung is a Christmas Spirit and thus bound to different rules to you. “Oh.” You breathe. “So I have to... do that?”

With a deep blush that nearly rivals the brilliant red of his hair, Taehyung nods. You wince and let your gaze drop. His mouth is a soft pink- one of the first things you’d bought on that first shopping trip had been lip balm after he’d seen you applying your own. He applies it meticulously and his lips are always faintly glossy and soft looking. This close you can count the tiny moles that sit against his skin like little stars, and you feel a little bit like your heart is in danger when you finally draw your gaze back up to meet his.

His expression is a little hard to interpret, but you don’t let yourself overthink it. You slide your palms up around the back of his neck and tug his mouth down to press against yours.

Taehyung makes a little surprised noise when you do, and it makes you blush. The smell of peppermint and cinammon is strong but captivating, and you wish you could stay there. You wish you could keep kissing him, but you know it’s wrong.

With a sigh, you pull back. Taehyung’s eyes are round and mystified and the blush sits high on his cheeks. His tongue darts out to swipe his lips and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“I...” his gaze flickers down and then he averts his gaze quickly. Around you, your friends let out a few wolf whistles before returning to the panicked search for any other offending items. Taehyung’s breathing seems a little faster and you can’t say you’re in much better state. “I just came out to ask you about the dessert.” He finally manages, though his voice comes out a little raspy. You nod, hoping he doesn’t think much of the way you mirror his fierce blush.

“Right...” you say awkwardly. “I’ll just... go and check on it.”

You dart around him, heading straight for the kitchen.

When you are there, you take advantage of the lack of other party guests and bury your face in your hands. It was just a mistletoe kiss, it didn’t mean anything and yet your traitorous heart is rioting in your chest, threatening to go on strike. Your mind can’t help replaying the moment- his lips on yours, his familiar, striking scent, the scratch of his ugly Christmas jumper beneath your fingers. The size of this stupid crush is embarrassingly enormous.

It takes a few moments, but you manage to regain your composure enough to discover that the dessert is very slightly undercooked, which you know Jin will bitch and moan about, but everyone else won’t mind. It’s nothing copious amounts of ice cream or custard won’t cover up.

When you step out into your living room, it seems the panic over the mistletoes has settled. Jungkook had smothered Jin until he caved and gave up all the locations and now your living room has devolved into a ridiculous Christmas dance party- Jin and Dahyun belt out the lyrics to Last Christmas with absurd amounts of drama and gravitas, and Jihyo and Namjoon are curled up on the couch, murmuring to each other softly. Jungkook has gotten ahold of Taehyung and is currently trying to teach him ridiculous tiktok dances, and all-in-all it’s kind of a dream vibe for a Christmas party. No pain, or fighting, or tears. Just warmth and laughter, and a shared camraderie of the season.

You find yourself smiling as you finally admit to yourself that maybe Taehyung was right.

Christmas isn’t so bad after all.

After everyone goes home, you and Taehyung are left to the cleanup.

It’s a bit awkward, standing shoulder to shoulder after the kiss. His movements are slow and hesitant, like if you move too quickly he’ll get frightened and bolt. But gradually you settle into a kind of rhythm, tidying things up together and you can’t resist asking him about the party. It had been for his sake, after all.

“Did you have fun?” You ask. Taehyung jumps from where he’d been gently working the sponge into a lather and a clang rings through the kitchen. The silence seems more pressing after the loudness of your party.

“Um... it was good.” He says, though his voice is a little high and squeaky. “I had a lot of fun- your friends seem nice.”

“It’s not really a family dinner.” You admit sheepishly. He pauses and offers you a smile, and the pleasant expression on his face seems to thaw through the lingering ice in the room.

“No, don’t be silly.” He tells you. “It was everything I could have hoped for. Except for Jin’s interpretative dance to Santa baby. I feel like I could have gone without that.”

You laugh and shake your head, stepping in close to pluck plates off the drying rack and drying them off.

“This was nothing. Wait till lizzo comes on and then you’ll see peak Seokjin.” You sigh. But then your expression changes and you offer Taehyung a smile. His eyes drop for just a fraction of a second, so quick you think you’ve imagined it, before raising quickly back to your eyes. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

He nods, and hums, still making his way through the pile of dirty dishes.

“What about you?” He asks. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You pause to think about it. The laughter of your friends, the silly Christmas carols, the snap of Christmas bonbons.... you did. You really, truly enjoyed yourself in a way you didn’t think you could and it’s thanks to the man before you. The man who patiently waited for you to come home each evening to eat dinner with you, and who dragged you across the city to places he thought you’d enjoy... he’s truly a magical person.

“I really did. It’s gotten me so excited for the rest of the year, to be honest. Are there any other Christmas traditions we can do? Christmas is almost here, but what about New Year’s? We could do something fun then too.” You suggest. Suddenly the season seems so bright and exciting, and the fact that there’s a whole week and a half left to December leaves you unbelievably excited.

Taehyung pauses from where he scrapes at a stubborn crumb on your baking tray.

“What?” He asks, and his voice goes strangely soft, and tentative. You blink- something about his tone makes you uneasy.

“For after Christmas.” You clarify. “You’ve already got Christmas planned out for us, right? So I can plan something for New Year’s. Return the favour.”

By now, Taehyung has completely stopped cleaning. He doesn’t look at you, and stares straight ahead.

“There... there isn’t an “after Christmas”, (Y/N).” He confesses. Your heart drops into your stomach. He turns to face you, and for once, his eyes aren’t bright, and filled with joy. They’re dark and miserable.

“What?” You breathe, trying to speak past the sudden shattering sensation in your chest. “Why... why not?”

“I’m a Christmas Spirit.” He reminds you. “I bring Christmas Cheer and then I go back in a box for the rest of the year.”

You blink- you feel like you aren’t hearing him right, or just not comprehending things.

“Why? I can just not put you away. Why can’t there be an “after Christmas”?” You urge. You step in close, fighting past the sudden panic in your chest. “How could I just put you back in a box for the rest of the year? That’s crazy! Just, don’t go in the box.”

“It’s not that simple.” He protests. “There are rules, (Y/N). I can’t just ignore them. My job is to make you happy during Christmas and then that’s it. That’s what I was born and raised to do. That’s what I spent 25 years waiting for.”

Your eyes widen.

“But surely there’s another way? Surely you don’t want to be in the box.” You cry. You step in close and grab his hand, pulling it towards you pleadingly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” He says, and there’s a resigned note of finality to his tone. “After Christmas, that’s it. I lose the strength to turn into a human. You can keep my out of the box, but it doesn’t make a difference. It ends on Christmas night.”

That makes you fall silent as you finally learn the full truth. You’d been so busy having fun that you hadn’t thought about what comes next. You’d stupidly let yourself believe that you could just keep having fun with Taehyung. You hadn’t thought about the logistics or the long term of it. You feel like you’ve been slapped.

Christmas has an end date.

Taehyung spots the tears forming in the corners of your eyes before you do, and his expression softens at the sight.

“It’s not fair.” You rasp. Somehow, he manages to pull a smile from somewhere, though it’s tinged with a deep sadness that makes more tears spill forth. He steps in close and pulls your face into his chest.

“I know.” He soothes. “It is. It’s unfair. I want to... I want to stay. But I can’t.”

You can’t keep your composure after that, and the sobs come in in full force.

“I wanted to keep having fun with you.” You bawl, and he just shushes you with a tighter hug.

“I did too.” He confesses. “But it just means we have to have even more fun until Christmas. Can you do that for me, (Y/N)?” He breaks the hug so that he can gaze into your eyes, smoothing the tears from your cheeks. “Please.” He begs. And you see the way his own eyes are red and moist.

You want to tell him you absolutely cannot. That if he’s going to make Christmas fun and then leave you at the end, he can leave right now. Before you fall even harder. Before it’s too hard to say goodbye.

But you’re a fool. A masochistic, lovestruck, weak fool. You can’t look into his eyes and tell him no. Not when you know what this means to him; you can’t take away his first Christmas for selfish reason.

“Ok.” You finally rasp. “I’ll do it.”

You’re walking off a cliff face with your eyes wide open.

For once Taehyung’s smile isn’t enough to comfort you.

Christmas day dawns cold and subdued. The days following dinner had been warm, but quiet. Reserved. Like you both knew a goodbye was coming and didn’t want to acknowledge it. You spend one night curled up in your car at an outdoor theatre, laughing along to some silly Christmas comedy, and another day is spent going bobsledding. You both go through the motions of merriment, but it’s clear that neither of your hearts are in it. It’s hard to be enthusiastic and merry when each precious moment that passes is one step closer to when he turns back into a scarecrow.

When you step out in the kitchen, Taehyung is making breakfast already. He sees you and smiles.

“Good morning.” He calls. “Merry Christmas.”

It triggers a pang in your chest as his words confirm that this is truly your last day with him.

“Merry Christmas.” You yawn, attempting to conceal the way your heart aches by settling into a chair at your table.

Taehyung scurries over, a plate in each hand.

“Breakfast is ready.” He declares. He’s gotten quite creative in his cooking- he can now manage a fairly decent semi-scrambled omelette and his bacon is surprisingly crispy. You’re eager to see what he has prepared for Christmas Day.

When he sets it down in front of you, however, you glimpse the Santa pancakes he made that first day. Your face falls. Two familiar blueberry eyes stare dolefully up at you and even the banana smile seems less curved and cheerful. It’s clear Taehyung had been a little distracted making them, because they’re not as carefully put together as that first meal. But the sentiment behind them still stands; that Taehyung cooks for you. He likes seeing you smile and he goes to absurd lengths to get you to enjoy yourself and he has for the entire month of December. He’s come to mean so much to you in such a short span of time- somehow he’s made a season that previously only meant cold and misery become a time of warmth and laughter. And now you have to say goodbye, before you’ve even started. There’s so many adventures the two of you could go on together, and yet you don’t get to. It’s so cruel. You’re alarmed when the tears come, unbidden.

Taehyung watches the expressions play out across your face, before wordlessly reaching out with the sleeve of his sweater to wipe the tears that fall away. His touch is gentle and his expression somber. He hasn’t even donned his usual Santa’s hat.

“I’m sorry.” You say, in a small voice. “I know I said I wouldn’t cry.”

He shakes his head and smiles, pulling his chair up so that it’s seated as close as possible to you.

“It’s ok. Just means I have to work a little harder. I wanna see that pretty smile, before I go.” He reassures you. You sniff and scrub at your eyes before staring determinedly at your pancakes.

“Ok.” You say. “Let’s do this, then.”

Taehyung searches your expression, and you’re not sure what he sees there, but it seems to satisfy him. You feel that the last few days, his smiles had been duller and decidedly less genuine, but this time he hits you with the full force of his dazzling smile.

“First things first, we have to open presents!” He cheers. You frown.

“But I don’t have any presents-“ you protest, but Taehyung cuts you off with a sharp rush of air through his teeth.

“Then what’s that?” He questions innocently, gesturing to your ratty Christmas tree.

And sure enough, beneath it is laden with presents. You stare at it for a long time.

“I didn’t get you anything.” You finally admit. Taehyung laughs.

“You enjoying my gifts is the present.” He says dismissively, before crowding you towards the tree. “Anyway, it’s a universal Christmas tradition to open your presents after breakfast, and I have failed you as a Christmas Spirit if we don’t do that.”

He slides the first gift towards you and eyes you coyly. “Open this one first.” He urges you.

They’re all small gifts, relatively inexpensive. You’re not expecting Swarovski crystals from Taehyung considering he’s an unemployed Christmas Spirit. But each gift is thoughtful and sweet and bought specifically with you and your tastes in mind. By the time you open the last of the presents, you’re fighting off tears again.

“I didn’t get you anything.” You lament, sniffling slightly as you set the last gift aside. Taehyung’s eyebrows wrinkle together and his mouth pulls into a pout.

“I already told you. Just being here is a gift for me.” He insists. “Besides, it’s not like I can use anything you give me for eleven months.”

That causes you to fall silent. You bite your lip as you look away. You had been determined not to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but you can’t do it. You can’t spend the day pretending you’re not on the verge of tears.

“I know I said I wouldn’t. But I can’t keep pretending this isn’t going to happen, Tae.” You say, and when he looks at you, you know it’s the first chink in his armour. He’s held it together considerably better than you, and you’d thought maybe it just didn’t bother him. After all, you were the one with feelings, not him. “At least... you can answer questions, right? If I know more, maybe it will hurt less.”

But looking at him now, you realise that he’s been fighting to stay composed to.

“What do you want to know?” He finally says, and he’s quiet. Defeated. So unlike the optimistic, cheerful being you’d come to adore.

“Are you trapped? Will it be be uncomfortable?” You question. “Can you still hear me? Will you... will you be lonely?”

“Not exactly.” He reassures you. “I look like a human but I’m also a glorified Christmas ornament. Time and events are different when I’m a scarecrow. It’s hard to explain.... but it’s not so bad. It’s just... how I am. I’m waiting, but I’m not trapped.” He explains vaguely. “I can hear and see what’s going on, but I just process things differently. Time just... feels different.”

You nod, a little comforted that at least you’re not sending your friend to be trapped in a prison of his own body for eleven months.

“Am I meant to pass you on to someone else?” You ask. “Or do I keep you here?”

“I guess...” He looks uncertain, and tentative. “I guess it depends how your year goes. Eleven months...” his voice cracks and he clears it awkwardly to hide it. “It’s a long time. You can keep me here, and I’ll see you next December, if you need a little extra help enjoying the season... or you can pass me on to someone else if you don’t need me anymore.”

He’s right. Eleven months is such a long time. Long enough to forget Taehyung and his bright smile and cheery disposition. Long enough to spend next Christmas with your family and pretend like things are ok between you. Long enough... long enough to forget just how much your heart aches today, and fool yourself into doing the exact same thing next year.

“What do you want?” You finally settle on. It’s the last question of the interrogation. After this, you can pretend everything is ok. You can go on like nothing’s wrong.

Taehyung’s eyes go wide. He points at himself, bewildered by your question.

“What do... I want?” He echoes, as if he’s never heard the words before. You nod.

“I want you to spend Christmas happy.” You confess. “So where do you want to be, next Christmas?”

He’s quiet for so long you’re worried that his brain has stopped functioning or that his weird Christmas Spirit voodoo has kicked in. But when he finally looks at you again, his eyes shine with so much emotion that your heart aches in your chest at the sight.

“I want to be here.” He finally says. “I want to spend Christmas with you again. There’s so many things we still didn’t get to try, and I want to do them all.”

Your throat goes tight, because yet again, you’re signing yourself up for heartbreak. If you do this, you’re the only one who will be hurt. Pining alone for most of the year for a season you used to hate. The irony of the situation is not lost on you.

But you’re helpless to him, to his smile and his sweetness and his warmth, and you can’t say goodbye.

“Ok.” You agree. “Then you’ll stay with me. Now let’s have some fun.”

The day must inevitably draw to a close. Though you and Taehyung linger at every activity, attempting to draw out each moment, the point in the day comes where the two of you are back at the apartment, with the time drawing closer and closer to midnight.

You unlock your apartment door with trembling fingers and inhale a shaking breath. You glance over your shoulder at Taehyung. He’s a broad-shouldered person, tall and imposing were it not for the warmth of his eyes and his puppy-like demeanour and normally he just seems larger than life. But in that moment, he’s so small and uncertain.

There’s so much you could say. You could plead with him; try and see if there’s a way to bargain out of the inevitable goodbye. Or you could thank him, from the bottom of your heart, for the first enjoyable Christmas you’ve had in your entire life. Crying feels like a viable option too, or getting angry. Your heart can’t seem to settle on a response and so instead it’s settled on numbness. Like it’s cold, lifeless hunk of metal rattling around in your ribcage.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Is what you finally settle on. He stares searching at your expression, before nodding to himself and squaring his shoulders

“Yeah. That sounds fun. I’ll make us some hot chocolate as well.” He says, stepping past you into the foyer.

You eventually settle on watching the Polar Express. When you sit on the couch, Taehyung sits far too close and tugs a blanket over both your laps. He hands you a mug of hot chocolate and the two of you settle into a peaceful quiet, opposite from the laughter and activity of the daytime. The evening melancholy seems to have settled in. The whole movie, you don’t really pay attention, instead trying not to think about the way the clock on the wall seems to be moving quickly.

“(Y/N).” You’re startled when Taehyung calls your name. It’s out of the blue, and you hadn’t noticed the way he’s steadily edged closer until the words are said almost directly into your ear. You’d been watching the clock instead of the movie, and you think for a moment that he intends to reprimand you. You turn to look at him and the proximity startles the breath out of you. “It’s almost midnight.” He tells you, as if you haven’t been glaring the clock down for most of the night.

It’s true, though- the minute hand is edging closer and closer to the dreaded twelve. It makes you realise that he’s been eyeing the clock as well.

“So it is.” You acknowledge, and he’s so close that his breath skates against the skin of your cheeks, staring at you with an intensity you don’t understand.

“Did I... Did I do a good job?” He asks you. You press your lips together; in a way he did. You think you may have smiled in this month alone more than you have the entire year. But you also know that the rest of the year will now pale in comparison; the rest of winter will leech by, depressingly dreary, and summer will come and go in muddy heat. The year will both inch and speed by and that whole time you will have the special month of December in mind. The times you spent with Taehyung.

“You did.” You finally say. “I... Christmas was always so lonely and miserable to me. Where we tried to pretend that things were ok and merry and it would just dissolve into screaming matches. But with you, it wasn’t. You helped me make it into something warm, and beautiful. And even though...” your voice cracks, and it takes you a moment to reclaim your composure. “Even though the ending will be lonely and sad, you gave me all these wonderful memories. I’ll hear a Christmas carol and think of you from now on, Taehyung.”

When you finally gain the courage to meet his gaze, you’re startled to find tears pouring down his cheeks. He’s been sad and a little misty-eyed ever since he admitted he wouldn’t be around after Christmas, but he’s also been frustratingly composed.

But in that moment, he’s anything but. He looks devastated as he brings his hands up to press into his eyes in a vain attempt to stem the flow of tears.

“I’m sorry.” He gasps. “I tried so hard but... I never imagined Christmas would be like this. I was only supposed to make you smile and then go back to being a scarecrow and that should have been enough but it’s not.”

He’s full on sobbing now, and you can only stare in bewilderment as tears form in your own eyes.

“I want to spend New Year’s Eve with you, and start the New Year together. I want to see you on your birthday. I want to see you on happy days and sad days. I want to...” he rubs his eyes clear and stares straight at you. “I want to make you smile the whole year.” He confesses.

And that’s when your phone goes off. You’d set an alarm, earlier in the morning, so that you’d know the exact moment midnight hit. You glance away, for just a moment, dread hitting you full force like a sledgehammer.

And when you turn back, it’s too late. The familiar little scarecrow stares up at you from the couch, where Taehyung had been seated just moments before.

And you finally let yourself break down at the sight of the familiar button eyes.

And just like that, Christmas is over.

“Why does your apartment smell like someone’s been dumped?” Jin sniffs as he steps through the threshold of your home, uninvited as usual. You’re not sure how he got in, but he probably had a copy of your key made somehow without you noticing. He’s prone to doing invasive things like that.

“Being dumped doesn’t have a smell.” You snap, from where you had been curled up on the couch under a mound of blankets.

“Yes it does.” He insists. “It smells like...” he pauses to take one long, obnoxious sniff to the air before wrinkling his nose. “B.O. and cheetos.” He recites.

You sigh, still not bothering to shift from your blanket nest. You’d been expecting his visit, to be honest. It’s the day before New Year’s Eve and you haven’t responded to his annual New Year’s Eve Bash invite. He’s very intense about RSVPs.

“What do you want, Jin?” You ask. He picks his way delicately towards you, navigating his way through your semi-dissembled Christmas tree before settling before you in a crouch. You’d made it part-way through the post-Christmas clean up before you’d been too upset to continue.

“Well, you aren’t answering my texts or calls. Zero activity on social media, no RSVP to my party... So I thought I’d make sure you hadn’t choked on a piece of tinsel.” He looks around your apartment with distaste. “I’m actually not sure if I’m relieved that you’re ok if this is what “ok” looks like.”

You ignore him, choosing to focus your attention back to Netflix. His expression softens, just a fraction.

“Tell me what’s going on, (Y/N). And where’s.. where’s Taehyung?” He questions tentatively.

You’re unable to conceal the way your shoulders stiffen, just slightly, at the mention of his name. You’ve been doing your best in the five days since Christmas to bounce back and return to normal life, but you can’t seem to. It’s easier to lounge around on the couch than to muster up the emotional energy to pretend you’re ok. You’ve spent too long pretending you’re ok. There isn’t a single drop of you left that can even try to do so.

“He had to go.” You say, hating the way your voice goes abruptly raw with tears. Jin’s eyes widen just slightly, and he shuffles closer.

“What do you mean he had to go? He’s-“ As he said the words, his eyes had been darting wildly around the apartment, but he abruptly cuts himself off when he spots the scarecrow on your mantle. “Why is Taehyung...” he begins, before his gaze flickers to you.

“Oh.” He exclaims simply, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, (Y/N).” He says, his voice filled with sympathy and sadness on your behalf.

You’re surprised when Jin engulfs you in a hug. You’ve never had that sort of friendship- he prefers to show his love by nagging you. But it’s weirdly comforting and you melt into his embrace.

“I’m sorry I didn’t RSVP.” You say glumly. “I didn’t feel like celebrating.”

Jin pulls away and scrutinises your expression.

“Forgive me if it seems probing, but I don’t understand what happened. You guys seemed like you were going great at dinner the other night.” He says. “Why... why didn’t you use his wish?”

You pull back and blink at him in confusion.

“His... wish?” You echo. Jin nods.

“All Christmas Spirit receive one wish for their entire career. It was instituted recently, though, maybe only in the last twenty years or so, so maybe Taehyung didn’t know about it?” Jin wonders.

Your eyes widen.

“Christmas Spirit?” You splutter. “You mean you knew?”

For someone who’s dropping a bombshell, Jin looks remarkably deadpan.

“Of course I knew. You think I wouldn’t notice a Christmas Spirit living in my store for five years?” He questions you with exasperation.

You stare at him incredulously.

“And you never thought, just once, that it would be a good idea to tell me what I was bringing home?” You demand. He rolls his eyes.

“Oh please. Like you would have believed me.” He says dismissively. “Little Miss Grinch, hates Christmas, told her weird Christmas Scarecrow is actually a special Christmas Spirit? I’m a simple man, (Y/N). I see an opportunity for a great Hallmark movie, I take it.”

You stare at him in rage, and then something occurs to you.

“That’s why you never came when I texted you that night! You knew it was Taehyung!” You realise in horror. “What if you had been wrong?”

At least he has enough sense of propriety to look sheepish.

“Taehyung would have helped you if I was wrong.” He offers meekly. The change in pace of conversation has you deflating.

“If you knew... why did you let him go home with me? I could have spent Christmas at home, alone, and not be dealing with any of this.” You confess, and Jin softens just a little bit.

“Well, because I didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone.” He admits. “Every year, you’re so miserable. And I thought Taehyung could change that. And honestly, I didn’t think it would end up like this and even if I did, I thought Taehyung would use his wish.”

“What wish?” You ask. Jin shrugs.

“Every Christmas Spirit gets one wish throughout their career. Usually it ends up being that they become human, but I know of some who have wished for other things.” He admits. You brows knit together as you gaze at your friend. Where is all this knowledge coming from?

“Jin... just who are you?” You ask hesitantly. He smiles awkwardly and rubs at the back of his neck.

“I’m Jin. The same Jin you’ve known for years. But before that, I was a little Christmas bear who spent years trying to make people happy on Christmas day.” He admits. “And one year... I’d had enough. So I wished that I could be human. And here I am today.” He smiles at you. “And it’s not too late. Taehyung can still do the same.” He glances over at your mantle, where the motionless Christmas Scarecrow sits. “Anyway, I have to get going. I was just coming to make sure you were alive.” He gets up and dusts off his pants. “Maybe give the apartment a clean, and then you can sit down and have a nice, long chat with that scarecrow over there.”

He makes to leave, but can’t resist tossing one last comment over his shoulder.

“I’m just going to assume you’re bringing a plus one. I’ll change your response to “going” on the fb invite.”

One clean apartment later, you stand before your mantle, gazing into the button eyes of the scarecrow. It’s weird to know that behind them, Taehyung watches you. What is he thinking? Is he sad? Lonely? Trapped? Is he listening?

You’re strangely nervous. Taehyung had told you that he’d wanted to spend the rest of the year with you, but maybe he changed his mind. Maybe watching you lounge around your apartment the past five days made him realise how lame you are. And if he only gets one wish in his entire career, why would he waste it now? He’s only had one Christmas to live out his purpose as a Christmas Spirit- maybe he’s not ready to give it up yet. Maybe you’re asking too much of him. It’s only been a month; to ask him to become human and face the horrors of the human world is maybe the cruelest thing you could do.

But your heart yearns, and ultimately that it what gives you the courage to begin speaking.

“I... don’t know how much you heard of what Jin said earlier.” You admit. “He pretty loud so you probably heard at least some of it. But the basic gist... is that you get a wish. Only one wish, so once you use it, that’s it. So, you have to use it wisely.”

You look away and squeeze your eyes shut.

“And, I understand if you want to save it. You’ve only just started out and maybe you want more time. But I was thinking... if all that stuff you said before is true... Maybe you can use it now. To be a human.” You inhale shakily. The offer is out in the open now.

The scarecrow doesn’t move.

“I mean, maybe you didn’t. That’s ok. I’ll be ok if you don’t actually want to spend the rest of the year with me. It’s a lot to ask when it’s only been a month. But I want to.” You squint and you feel the hot prick of tears forming at the corner of your eyes. “This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I’ve never smiled so much before, and so easily. Something about you makes it so easy. And I was never brave enough to say it, but I like your smile too. I like it so much. It’s ridiculous that you can say my smile is lovely when you can look in the mirror and see what your smile looks like. And I... I don’t want to only get to see it on Christmas. I don’t want to spend eleven months waiting for you but the ridiculous part is that I will.” You admit. “I’ll just keep comparing things to the time I spent with you. I’ll spend eleven months of the year waiting for you’re smile. And that’s because... I really like you, Tae. So much- no, too much. I like you too much.” You’re full on crying at this point. “So please. Spend it on me. Wish to be a human. Wish to be here the rest of the year.”

You fall silent, and still, the scarecrow stares at you. Unmoving, unchanging.

You smile helplessly, before scrubbing at your eyes. He doesn’t want to use his wish. That’s ok. He doesn’t have to. It was stupid of you to think that he would.

You sniffle and open your eyes.

Only to be engulfed by two arms around your body.

“I like you too much as well.” Taehyung gasps. It takes you a moment to process- your face is smushed into his chest and his arms hold you securely. “I didn’t know about the wish. But... I want to keep spending time with you. I’d have spent it on you a hundred times over if I’d known.”

You go to pull away so that you can see his face, but he doesn’t give you the chance to because his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a sweet kiss but also a little clumsy and eager. Like he’s worried time is running out.

Gradually, the urgency fades and he pulls away. At this proximity, you can see the way his lashes frame his bright eyes, and the way his eyes crinkle into little tiny half moons. It’s a little surreal, being able to gaze upon him so freely when just last week you’d been prepared for a goodbye.

“So... you’re a human now? You get to stay?” You ask. He pulls back and squints at himself.

“I guess so. I can’t seem to turn back into a scarecrow so I guess... that I’m human now.” He says.

You kiss him again, after that. It’s soft and sweet and perfect. When you pull away, his eyes are hazy and his expression is unfocused. He looks adorably dishevelled and distracted, and then he offers you that smile, the one that makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. His fingers come up to delicately trail over the paths of your face, like he’s trying to memorise what you look like.

“You’re smiling.” He breathes, his tone filled with wonder. His thumb comes up to reverently trace the curve of your lips. “It was your smile.” He confesses. You blink up at him in confusion and he chuckles in response. “It threw me off guard. At the ornament store. Up until that point I’d been so nervous whether I was in over my head with the whole Christmas spirit thing. And then you smiled at me and it wasn’t even because of anything I’d even done and suddenly I wanted to keep that smile on your face.”

You flush, a bit flustered by his admission, but he isn’t finished, apparently.

“It’s so pretty. You’re pretty.” He insists. “When you kissed me under the mistletoe I thought my heart was going to burst and then I remembered what I was. That I’m a Christmas Spirit and that I don’t get to do this. I get your smile at Christmas and then that’s it.” He smiles self-deprecatingly at himself before it shifts into something warmer, and fonder. “But now... now...” he trails away, too emotional to continue and he settles for pulling you into another tight embrace, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. All you can smell is that comforting scent of peppermint and cinnamon, and you melt. “Now I get your smiles the rest of the year too. I can’t wait to spend the rest of the year with you.” He confesses, a soft, whispered confession into the warm crook of your neck.

And there’s lots to do, and things you need to work out now that Taehyung is by your side as a human. Your relationship with your parents isn’t fixed, and he doesn’t have a job or a source of income, and there’s still some remaining Christmas decorations that need to be placed in storage.

But that’s ok. You’ll both work all that out together eventually. After all, you have the rest of the year to do so.

#thebtswritersclub #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #castlebangtan #taehyung fluff #writing #secret santa

293 notes · View notes

ddaehyeon · 3 years

Text

。✧ hyacinth; park serim + reader

— pairing: fashion designer!park serim + photographer!reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, exes au, post-breakup, slightly suggestive (one scene only!)

— word count: 7.1k

— warning: arguments, heartbreak, mentions of anxiety and emptiness

— summary: years had passed since you broke up with serim; life had been continuously patching up ever since. his name had marked several clothing lines, while your studio was well-known in the small city you lived in. who would’ve known that a sight of him on a bus stop would be enough to bring back wounds you thought had long ago healed?

— navi: playlist | video teaser | cravity masterlist

— a/n: my wips suffered from a major slump and this is quite an overdue fic (i also have another overdue fic help) but i hope someone would still at least read this though >< the first ver of this didn't satisfy me and though this ver didn't satisfy me that much, i feel like after rewriting almost half of the fic, this one's better. i'll do my best to pull something better soon!

autumn must be the most magical part of the year. the leaves experiencing a color alteration, scarlets and golds carpeting the ground— a yearly harvest of the earth where everything was gradually being taken away. long gone was the heat of the summer; the chilly evening breeze sure was much friendlier than of winter. the season served as a comforting quilt. it was such a great time for warm drinks that could lift up the mood even for the wariest.

you let go of a breath as you stared at the window, the sun was setting. the color fleshed out in the sky golden, jiving well with the surrounding that was already of the same palette. with an indoor shoot for a seasonal issue of a magazine, it sure was a tiring day. the sound of camera clicks still ringing in your head, along with the hushed talks and chitchats coming from the staff members and the models.

at first, you were hesitant to accept the project. afraid that you’d bump by one of the renowned fashion designers in your region, park serim. but then, you couldn’t just chicken out when a hefty sum was to be paid. the relief you had when you saw that his name wasn’t on the list of designers was almost the same kind of relief you'd have after preventing big trouble from occurring.

“i finished placing back the props in the room.” hyeongjun’s voice was still as bright as it was this morning as if not touched by any fatigue. he was one of the photographers you hired in your studio, offering only fine shots. “i’ll be going home early, just send me a message about what time tomorrow’s shoot will be!”

“thank you, junie.” a smile was on your brim as you nodded on his words, watching him pack his camera and leave afterward.

silence melted in the room as soon as hyeongjun stepped out. alone in your photography studio, you sat on a stool used earlier by one of the models. the room was dimly lit with only one of the umbrella lights open. it was only by then that you realized your thighs were already stiff from the nonstop work earlier. you wanted to go home and just be in the comforts of your bed.

pulling out your phone, you dialed your brother’s number, frowning when it took him quite a while to pick up. was he busy or did he just forget that he was supposed to pick you up tonight?

jungmo would always fetch you by your studio after his working hours concluded. with the two of you living together in the same house, your brother just found it ideal— bringing you to your work every morning and giving you a drive home every evening. it might seem like he was babying you, but it was a gesture you grew fond of.

“y/n?” jungmo gasped on the other line. it seemed like he was outside, music playing in the background which mingled well with the peals of laughter. “shit, i forgot to tell you.”

you raised a brow, questioning his words. “what’s the matter?”

“can’t fetch you today.” you can already envision the pout he had on his lips. “i’m at a party with allen and woobin, catching up with my colleagues. i’ll make it up to you tomorrow, i promise!”

“alright. i’ll just ride the bus then.” it was your turn to purse your lips. you can’t bring yourself to complain about it though. “have fun! just stay in woobin’s apartment tonight, don’t drive!”

“i will, i will,” jungmo replied, a call of his name following. his friends might’ve been looking for him already. “text me alright? get home safely, y/nie.”

at the end of the phone call came another sigh from you. a tightlipped smile braced your lips as you stood to turn off the remaining lights. you retrieved your camera and placed it back in one of the drawers. making sure everything was back to its place, secured; you gave the place one final look. something you’d do every single day before going home. a reminder of the thing you loved the most. a reminder of what could have been.

the sidewalk wasn’t as empty as you imagined it to be, maybe you weren’t used to walking to the bus stop anymore. strangers of different day occurrences exchanged various looks that shared one same element, tiredness.

when the wind blew, fallen leaves danced along with it. the slight coldness making you tuck your hands inside the pocket of the cardigan you were wearing. you loved the cool breeze, but not when you knew you had to stay out on an open shed with it as your companion. cold weather could be your friend, a company for a better evening sleep. but rather a harsh fellow when you had to be alone, when loneliness can easily be injected to your senses.

tracing the path, a memory went to play in your head. way back in college, this was the same sidewalk you’d walk in with your ex-lover. a camera on your hand while he had a roll of satin in his arms. it was such a usual view for the two of you as you talked about how the day went, ranting about the monotonous lectures, gushing over how you missed each other’s company and how you wished that the two of you could get back to your shared apartment as soon just so you can snuggle on the couch.

you glanced at the sky, the cloud hiding the few scattered twinkling stars. a faint smile spread upon your lips, only to disappear when your gaze went back to the bus stop. the male that passed by in a form of fleeting memory earlier was standing right in front of you as if fleshed out from your mind. a lavender-colored paper bag was hanging on his arm, the logo of his product line delicately stamped on the middle. his phone was resting on his other hand, if he was scrolling through sns or texting someone, you weren’t sure.

the magical feeling he used to offer long gone, your stomach twisting into several knots. a cold sensation went down in your spine as a familiar tug came to pull your heartstring. he’s back? what is he doing here? he lives here again?

your thoughts were loud in your head, but none of it was pulled out loud. each word ending up as a lump in your throat. the air was thickening, your heart beating fast, not out of excitement, but out of the clashing thoughts that left you so nervous and confused. it had been years, how come a single sight of him made you feel like all your resolutions are gone? how did a single sight of him become enough to shatter the glass that protected you from the ache that night had caused you?

it was cold. but no, it was no longer because of the autumn breeze.

“serim?” the name was uttered in the same way you would before everything came crashing, yet it held a much weaker tone. you can’t even remember the last time your voice came to wrap around the syllables of his name.

the male turned his head to look at you, a brow raised as he stared at you. no obvious emotion, his eyes held no recognition.

and his reply? it sent a shiver down your spine, your stomach flipping in a horrendous manner.

“who are you?”

for a moment, the air caused such a nauseous feeling— thin and hard to inhale. it was only three words, yet it was powerful enough to serve as a punch in the gut.

how can he forget?

how can he forget how the two of you first met?

not that it was a very momentous event, just a regular struggle faced by two college students that needed someone else to accomplish a project for a major subject. there were no butterflies involved, nor did sparks fly the moment you met. regardless, up until now, that day burned fresh in your mind.

“i know someone from that department,” woobin said without even looking at you, his eyes focused on his book. though you weren’t sure if he was really paying attention to the words written there as he kept on diving in the conversation every now and then.

“and who might that be?” the dreadful task of having to pair up with the design department had been inhabiting your mind ever since it was given to you. pressure rising as you saw your other blockmates having no hard time getting themselves out there and communicating with the department they weren’t really accustomed to. you still have a month and a half, you were sure you can still make it. it was just a photoshoot anyway, featuring your partner’s designs.

“park serim,” woobin finally answered as if he had to think hard of the person’s name. “i think no one had asked him to become their partner, he’d be available to do it.”

desperate to get over with the task, later that day, you found yourself by the catwalk the design students would take. it was a path that connected their building to the main gate directly. your building wasn’t exactly far away from theirs, but still of a different building. with their building equipped with supplies and machineries for final products, yours were of computers, lightings, and screens.

you stared at your phone, his instagram profile opened. earlier, you already took the pleasure of checking his works out and without much filtering, him as well. he sure does love taking pictures of himself; something that could work perfectly with him being your subject. once satisfied, you left him a dm that was probably one of the most awkward sentences you had ever typed in the entirety of your life.

a notification popped out as you look at your screen, which was shortly followed by another. it was only of common courtesy to follow him before asking him for a favor right? you did that before messaging him and now he followed you back and replied to your dm. unlike you, he didn’t spend much time wandering in your profile. well, as if he had so much to look unto aside from the sceneries and some stories posted.

‘you were the person woobin was talking about? i’ll be out in two minutes. see you in the catwalk.’

it wasn’t too long of a duration, you allowed yourself to simply jump from a social media to another, mindlessly scrolling and liking some post every now and then. only lifting your head up when a wave of students began getting out of the establishment. most were holding mannequins with unfinished clothing attached to them, some were holding rolls of fabrics you weren’t sure what to call.

with squinted eyes, you tried to look for him among the crowds. woobin said that serim was a fashion design major, so he’d probably be holding the same thing as the other students that came out.

and he was.

leaning on his shoulder was a mannequin, asymmetrically dressed in silk. it wasn’t sewn yet, only supported by sewing pins. an arm wrapped around a roll of what seemed to be linen of pastel blue color. there was also a paper bag hanging on his arm which seemed to have some extra fabric and maybe some other supplies.

you walked towards him with a wave to which he gave you a confused look at first, the frown melting away when he realized that you were the one who messaged him not even an hour ago.

“you’re y/n?” he asked, merely to confirm.

you nodded your head and offered a hand in carrying the paper bag. something he didn’t refuse to. “so…” unsure of how to bring up the means of meeting with him after his class, your voice trailed.

“what do you need anyway?” he supported your words as he traced the path of the sidewalk. “take pictures of me or take pictures of the clothes i make?”

“both.” a chuckle left your lips, laced with nothing but sheer abashment, at the same time mentally cursing this project. you were okay with taking pictures, but the negotiation that comes with it wasn’t a task you were so used to doing.

serim hummed, saying an almost inaudible ‘i see’ before taking a big step and stopping in front of you to do a curt observation. his gaze trailing from toes up to your shoulder. “i’ll agree to do it, if you’ll model for me for a project.”

blinking your eyes multiple times, a baffled frown came to mask your countenance. “what?”

“i need a model that will wear the dress i’m doing by the end of the semester,” serim uttered nonchalantly, proceeding to turn his back to you and resume walking. “that would be quits.”

“i’ll do it,” you said, despite still being hesitant. having close to zero knowledge about how such a presentation would work, you were so close to disagreeing. but then again, it would only be a good way to repay him, right? and perhaps the other fashion design students would ask you of the same thing if you try to team up with them.

turning to look at you, there was a curve that formed on his brim. “that’s a deal then.”

how can he forget how the two of you confessed to each other?

two months. it took two months of random meet ups, daily conversations, and occasional hanging out to get to know each other. the awkward messages of checking up on each other’s side of the project turned to asking about each other’s day, sharing rants about academic life or life in general. the occasional hanging out turning to planned dates and spontaneous ones when the two of you both have the time to spare.

you’d usually stay in his unit as he worked on the dress for his project, a clothing that perfectly suits your figure. late night talks induced by the slightest energy given by coffee the two of you had clung into in hopes of being able to finish what was due.

it seemed like time flew by and before you knew it, you were in the backstage. serim was pacing back and forth, more nervous than you were. he wasn’t the one that was going to the stage, but sure his body was restless.

“are you alright?” you asked him once the two of you were left alone in the dressing room.

this was enough for serim’s movement to come to a halt. even when his eyes landed on you, it was obvious that his mind was floating. in fact, it even took him hot seconds before he was able to commit to a verbal response. “i am.”

“you are?” a smile broke out of your countenance which was eventually followed by a chuckle. “are you sure with that?”

your laughter was adequate to ease his nerves a little, a curve appearing on his lips. “i am.”

one of his classmates who was in charge of the flow came knocking to the door, signalling that you should be on standby.

“i’ll do my best,” you said, walking toward the door. it would be a definite lie to say that you were not at all nervous. a deep breath taken before twisting the knob, stopping when serim called you. it was covered with a bit, yet noticeable hesitation that it made you cock a brow for a moment.

“good luck.” it was all that he uttered, along with a gesticulation of him raising both fists. though serim’s mind spoke of different words, words he had little courage to let go of. at least not yet at that moment.

you gave him a smile, nodding your head afterward. “thank you.”

and off you go.

roaring crowds and camera clicks; the auditorium set up for the use of the fashion design students as they exhibit their works through their chosen models. formerly, you’d find yourself among the crowds, snapping pictures and admiring the clothes done by the other students. but this time, you found yourself clothed in a floral print silk-blend asymmetrical dress designed by serim himself.

the lights were blinding, being always part of the photographers, you were quite accustomed with how you were part of the persons behind the camera lense. serim was in the dressing room, watching the runway from the screen that displayed the live broadcast. some of your friends were among the crowds, your older brother even telling you before the show started that he’d be sure to take pictures of you.

fortunately, the few days of practice didn’t go to waste, no major mistakes happened when you modeled serim’s design. perhaps the only problem was you were a little stiff, something too trivial for some audience to notice.

as soon as you stepped by the backstage, serim’s proud smile welcomed you. unable to rest in the dressing room once he saw you getting out of the stage, he practically ran to meet you behind the curtains.

his eyes were filled with adoration, not just for the dress he finished making, but for the overall beauty you radiated. without much thought, he walked closer to you, soon wrapping you in an embrace. tight, yet gentle.

“you did well, y/n,” serim whispered, not letting go.

a soft chuckle was heard from you, your cheeks burning. “you did well,” you corrected. “please, it’s your design.”

“thank you.” releasing you, a smile lingered on his visage. “i’ll make you a better dress in the future.”

“you don’t have to, but thanks,” you replied before the two of you sunk into silence. regardless of how the surrounding was of heavy music and cheers, peace had found its way to emanate in the dimmed part of the area.

no words spoken, yet feelings poured when serim leaned closer. his lips easily capturing yours enough to make your heart pound in your chest, louder than it did while you were in the catwalk.

serim broke the kiss, his lips still close with yours. his eyes were of another glow when he uttered a set of words, familiar yet foreign. “i love you.”

once again, you were under his spell. soft kiss turning into a sloppy one once he guided you to a more secluded area. it would be such a waste to rip the dress off given that it was an original design, yet as the person who sewn each part of the clothing you were wearing, serim had his way to resolve the small dilemma.

the surrounding was silenced, your body frail under each of his touch, breath taken away, chest heaving. sure, it was a night you won’t be able to forget.

how can he forget about how the two of you practically lived with each other for years?

the exuberance exuded while the two of you carried several boxes into an empty unit you called home. maybe it wasn’t really about the place, but it was who you were with. his arms served as a shelter. his hand caught tears of both happiness and sadness. his lips pressed affection that no one else could offer. everywhere with serim was of comfort, of tranquility— a home.

living with another person, being under a single roof wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to adjust to. throughout the first few months of living together, your head was filled with memories of sheer trial and error as the two of you tried to learn the curves. this included adjusting for each other or at least compromising for what the other likes that the other doesn’t. silly mistakes became such a fond memory.

the smell of burnt food that wafted in the air when the two of you decided to stay on the balcony while cooking dinner. astonished by the stars and the almost endless stories that passed on both lips the meal you were preparing was left neglected. that night, the two of you shared bitter food of dark exterior, quite hard to swallow. but the laughter that filled the house after the incident lifted up each other’s mood. despite the bad-tasting meal, it was probably one of the best dinners you had in that apartment.

it didn’t end there. who would forget about the laundry disaster that rendered one of serim’s white long sleeves saturated with colors you weren’t sure what to call. the mixture of forget-me-not blue and azalea pink stood as the most distinguishable pigment along with the other colors. serim only let out of a chuckle at what occurred, even joking that maybe the two of you could start a business of dying white clothing in such a way.

the best memory thus far was a late-night run by the convenience store when the two of you were chasing a morning deadline. a grumbling stomach that broke the mutual silence the two of you exchanged, along with a suspecting look that ended up with laughter.

“let’s buy some food,” serim suggested, removing the tape measure from his shoulder and settling it to the mannequin.

you hit save on your laptop, the editing could wait for a few minutes.

pulling yourself off the chair, you gazed at him with a smile. it wasn’t a surprise that he had the same beam, as bright as the morning, regardless of how the evening was already crawling onto the whole city. sometimes, you wondered how a simple smile could give you so much energy. what kind of magic does a beam flashed by the person you love hold?

a few snacks picked up by the convenience store; a bag in his hand, your hand on the other as the two of you walked back to your unit. the evening sky and the soft gush of wind amplifying the peacefulness provided by the city. no words were exchanged, yet the silence was enough of a word.

deadlines momentarily escaping the mind as you allowed yourself to be engulfed by his presence. his soft voice breaking the silence, the phrase that left his lips drew a curve on your lips. “i love you, y/n.” you weren’t looking at him, but you could perceive the smile he had. “so much.”

“i know,” you replied.

serim’s steps became slower as he looked at you, waiting for the actual response. with a tilted head and shining eyes that reflected your figure and the street lights, his gaze didn’t waver.

a chuckle left your lips, finding yourself lost in his eyes for a moment. “i love you too, serim.” you squeezed his hand, cueing him to continue walking. “so much.”

sighing out of content, a radiant smile decorated his lips.

at that moment, the two of you wished nothing more but just to be next to each other for as long as life would grant you.

how can he forget about your first anniversary?

it wasn’t grand, just the two of you sitting by the balcony. the bouquet he bought abandoned on the dinner table as the two of you gushed over plans you were sure were realistic enough to be achieved. your eyes twinkling with mirth, a lifetime with him sure was the ideal one you’d want to spend.

“y/n,” despite being just beside you, serim called.

you looked at him with a brow raised, catching his eyes on yours. “mhm?”

a smile simply spread onto his lips before he broke the gaze. his hand seeking for an item inside the pocket of his hoodie, a small box retrieved afterward. there, a necklace sat. the pendant was of a ring that was not entirely decorated with fancy stones, rather a lone blue sapphire stone was on it.

“the pendant is a promise ring,” serim explained before scooting closer to you. his hand reached for the back of your head while the necklace rested on your skin. he locked the jewelry on your neck, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead after.

you were silent the whole time, not because you didn’t like the gesture. but because you were sure words wouldn’t be enough to express the satisfaction and light feeling that was blanketing your heart.

serim had a faint smile as he admired the necklace for a moment. just like you, his heart was in an ocean of peaceful joy. lifting his head to look at you directly, he gave your lips a light peck. “i’ll buy you a better one once we’re ready for it.”

“thank you.” your countenance mirrored the same expression serim had— of joy and serenity. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” serim leaned in for another quick kiss, swift yet lingering. “i can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you.”

the evening droned on and on with the two of you staying by the balcony, exchanging conversations about the future. two hearts in one home, seemingly able to find the path where both can hold each other’s hand. minds filled with dreams where the other can also be spotted. a considerably spacious studio apartment became the foundation of your plans and dreams.

aspirations that soon became the neglected cause of why your relationship with him gradually crumbled down.

how can he forget about your very first fight?

gazes that held no definite emotion, silence that cut through the air— it was all an unfamiliar experience, hard to swallow. something that you weren’t able to forget easily as it was the first time you’ve ever seen serim with such a cold expression.

the coaster of shows on the television had long passed, a few recaps played. something that wasn’t really able to get a hold of your attention. your mind drifting elsewhere and the few notifications appearing on your phone were the only ones that managed to pull you out of your daze momentarily.

“where’s serim?” for the nth time that day, you asked. the room was quiet with only a few chatters from the screen in front of you. the evening was growing older and older, but you haven’t received any message about serim's whereabouts. neither had he sent you a message the whole afternoon.

worried, you opted to stay up and wait for him. even prepared a meal that can be easily heated so he can have something to eat once he arrives in case he hasn’t eaten anything yet.

with the door clicking, you were quick to get off the couch. the faint footsteps signaling you right away.

“you’re finally home,” you said, a smile easily located on your brim. only for it to melt away at the sight of serim’s stern look. his gaze piercing through, enough for chills to trace your spine.

he walked past you, not even offering you the regular hugs and kisses he would do every time he’d arrive. all that was left were cold stares. something you attempted to break. and heck did you regret doing so.

“why haven’t you been answering your phone? have you already eaten?” the worry you had accumulated coming through in waves of questions.

a sigh was emitted out of his mouth as he went to get himself a drink. it seemed like a verbal response was not an option for him since he continued to ignore your questions. at this point, it was as if there was no one else in the room. it was like you weren’t there.

“did something happen, serim?”

a minute. it was all it took for the entirety of your relationship to come to an unknown turn. the curve strange, it crawled to the skin with such a frigid touch enough for your stomach to flip horribly.

“can you give me a break?” serim hissed, a glare shoot in your direction. his voice growing power word after word. your breath was taken away, how can words suffice to make you feel so small? he placed his glass on the sink, the item almost meeting its demise. he turned to look at you once again. “can’t you see, i’m tired?”

“i waited for you.” the words spilled out of your lips, disappointment hugging your tone.

“who told you to wait for me?” serim snarled and before you knew it, you were already standing on the same page. similar expression, different cause. yours were anchored in concern, while his were of fatigue from the whole day of heavy workload. those seemed to have lulled both of your senses, blinding each other.

“oh well, i was just worried about you because you didn’t send me a message the whole afternoon up to this point.”

“do i really need to report my actions to you?”

“no, but you have to at least tell me if you’re going home late.” your voice gradually softened, a tear held back.

no, you can’t cry. no, not in front of him. no.

“i was worried,” you broke out. but it wasn’t enough for his fumes to dissolve. like gasoline poured into flames, each of your replies only intensified the exasperation boiling in his stomach.

“i’m going to rest.” serim sigh was audible as he stormed off to your room, leaving you with tears in your eyes.

a minute.

it only took half a minute for everything to fall out of its order. that fight wasn’t the last one and each passing day, the unit you once called home was stuck with unfamiliarity.

it was no longer a home.

how can he forget about that night?

cold meals by the table had your eyes fixated on them. the date encircled in red, a supposedly special day that turned bitter. different from how you used to spend it before—of laughter and warm touches— serim wasn’t there. he was far too involved with projects that your shared unit only became a short shelter. words were barely exchanged, yet alone gazes. you still sleep on the same bed as him, but no warmth was offered.

you weren’t sure which was better, to continue living with him even if it felt like you weren’t living with him or to have him gone in your life for real. regardless of the turns that occurred, the continuous erosion of your relationship, you couldn’t find it to yourself to let go. still tied by your attachment to the former serim.

a sigh left your lips, desolated gaze trailing on the table. you tried. but it seemed like those attempts were futile. it takes two people’s efforts. you can’t revive a relationship alone.

switching place, you went to the living room and sat by the couch. the place dimly lit by a lone lampshade. the city lights filtering through the window. the air gradually thickened around you, it held your throat in a vice grip. the photographs displayed by the shelves were foreign to you, despite how it was simply you and serim. it was like you were staring at completely different people. smiles had long been taken away, touches had melted, flutters subsided— all that was left was a terrible feeling of helplessness. something that seemed to guide you to nowhere. you were lost.

before, you were sure of how the story was to be written. how the chapters were to unfold. but right now, you weren’t even certain what would be on the next page. it was like the next ones were torn from the spine, gone. oh hell, you weren’t even sure what page you were on right now or if the story was bound to be written in the first place.

serim’s arrival went unnoticed at first. only until you heard the clink of the glass meeting the sink did you turn in his direction. an empty gaze was earned and for some reason you found yourself offering him a faint smile. a small gesture packed in pain that was quick to course through your senses.

sighing had become his way of greeting. dark circles under his eyes and the disheveled look emanated how his work had been weighing him. but your mouth was closed regardless of how you wanted to speak of reassurance and praise. it was strange, the inability to speak of warm words around him. why were you so held by fear?

“serim,” you called, breaking the floating silence.

he looked at you, eyes deep like he was examining a piece of fabric. it was enough for your stomach to churn. the stillness continued after your call. you weren’t sure how to continue it; it was as if his name was unnatural in your tongue. not only was your breath sucked, but also all the possible words had dissipated.

yet again another sigh as he tore his gaze away, stepping towards the bedroom. “i’m so tired, y/n,” he uttered, setting a line for you to not cross onto. “very tired.”

resurfacing on your brim was a smile. your eyes weren’t exactly skillful of lying though as tears soon gathered on it. heart hollowed in emptiness as if a scream would echo on its wall. likewise, your voice decided to betray you— shaking. “serim, i’m getting tired too.”

for a swift moment, serim tried to come up with an answer. but just like you, comforting words seemed to be an unfamiliar language. even aware of how a look would be inadequate, he only stared at you. his eyes don’t speak of words nor radiated comfort— it was vacant. lowering his head, he carded his fingers on his hair before letting go of a breath.

serim finally stepped inside the bedroom.

and that was how the two of you parted ways.

how can he forget about you?

it went on and on in your head, the question continuously striking.

a gush of autumn breeze pulled you out of your daze. serim was still looking at you, his eyes slowly lightening with recognition. a few blinks and he spoke. “oh, wait.” he tilted his head to the side. “y/n?”

you weren’t exactly sure what kind of answer to give, but you gave it your best to offer a faint smile. “yes.”

still— despite how other people were walking on the sidewalk and how vehicles passed by the road, the surrounding seemed to come to a stillness you didn’t ask for. denying and pushing away the feelings you’ve long ago tried to bury and made yourself believe that you’ve healed from only brought a new wave of pain. as if you were its child, sadness came to hug you.

just in time, the bus arrived as if to save you from further drowning in emotions you didn’t wish to engulf you in. to your surprise, serim also boarded in. while you chose to sit somewhere just nearby the driver, he went to the last row.

usually, your rides on the way home were the most relaxing ones. a time to just stare at the window and watch the night spread into the city. it will always be accustomed by jungmo asking you on and on about how your day went and also sharing about how his day went. but your brother wasn’t around for that kind of support right now. and you can’t blame him for it. you can’t blame anyone for this unexpected meeting with the person you never knew you’d ever meet again.

the ride was sickeningly slow, all you wished was to get home and allow your voice to echo in your room. to release the emptiness if it was even possible to empty something that was already vacant. the sky held no comfort. its color dissipated and all that was left was an empty canvas that like a broken record, played memories. it was silly how despite those quick memories popping in and out of your mind, questions still managed to penetrate.

serim was living in another city, why did he ride the same bus? was he to meet his new lover? maybe to meet an old friend?

or did he perhaps mean to meet you? this was a guess you despised. the hope it brought that maybe an answer for all the questions formed that night were to be given tasted bitter in your mouth and offered restlessness in the heart.

an urge to talk to him surfaced, but then you asked yourself why. why would you want to talk to him? for what?

despite being curious about the reason why he left that night, a certain fear crawled onto your senses. the fear of knowing.

what could knowing his reasons possibly bring you?

the time when the two of you loved each other wasn’t of the best timing. two newly graduates seeking career growth, wanting nothing but to achieve various goals. those were dreams drawn with the other person placed as a part of it. however, during the process of achieving those, that same person where the aspiration was rooted gradually disappeared from the mind. the path the two of you promised to take together came at crossroads and you ended up taking something different from what he preferred to go to.

at first, there was a powerful yearning that made the two of you grow more fond of each other. but it was slowly replaced by numbness towards it, making love such a foreign word.

you understood. but it wasn’t something you had fully accepted.

a familiar shed came to flash on the window, your stop nearing. and when the vehicle finally came to a halt, you gave serim a final glance. he was looking at you, not moving from his seat. dismissing the contact, you walked down the bus and began tracing the sidewalk with heavy steps.

disappointment curled into your stomach when you arrived near your house, realizing that the recurring questions will not be answered. however, fate played its game. anxiousness arose when once again you heard your name wrapped around serim’s voice.

you turned to look at him, his lips hesitant to let go of a word.

serim was also in deep thoughts, mind all over the place despite how he already had the resolution to talk to you, not to explain and justify himself, but to apologize for the damage done.

“i’m sorry for that night,” serim began, the initial words already clinging into his chest, weighing down. “i should’ve been more honest with you and trusted you more with my struggles.”

there was nothing serim wanted but to prove himself worthy of you. achieve things that could make you be proud of him and deem him as someone who deserves you. working up to late hours, diving into designs in order to perfect his craft. the thing was, he forgot that you already loved him even when he was simply that serim. that you loved him as park serim.

blinded by the goal, the mean diminished. as he was too caught up with it, he was no longer striding towards it for you, but for himself.

“it was selfish of me to decide for something we both should be deciding for. i left that night thinking it was better that way without even considering how you will feel,” serim continued, his voice weakening. he lifted his hand as if to hold you, but stopped midway. it fell to his side as he breathed in. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.”

“i was hurt, but you were probably hurt as well.” the way those words left your lips ever so calmly surprised you. “it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but i hope we both learned from it.” a smile became evident on your visage. “promise me one thing serim, do not make the same mistake with your future lover.”

“i will not,” serim replied.

both of you never really imagined the end of your relationship and as the page of it was torn years ago, an ending was deemed impossible to earn. closing a book would never be that easy, but some stories were meant to end— yours included.

“also, this is for you.” serim handed you the paper bag he was holding. “i told you years ago that i’ll make you a better dress, and here it is. i figured that i wouldn’t be able to keep the promise laced on the ring i gave you before but i at least want to have one of my promises kept.”

you looked at the item for a moment before turning to serim once again. “thank you.”

“i also want you to know that i truly loved you.”

never at once did you doubt serim’s love for you. the thing about it is that people will grow and know love from a better perspective. know how to best keep it. know how to best show it. but it will not change the fact that back then, you felt that it was love.

serim had a single flaw and that was to hold everything to himself to the point that those created a wide gap between the two of you. the distance far enough that reaching his hand became impossible despite how you wanted to hold him.

and maybe during that time, parting was the best solution. and up to this point, it was too.

“it’s nice seeing you again, serim.”

“likewise, y/n.” a genuine smile crossed his lips. “goodbye?”

“goodbye.”

tonight, you gave him a piece of your heart. it was his, to begin with. whatever he was to do with it— keep it, throw it, crush it— it was a decision for him to make. keeping something that shouldn’t be there would only bring further destruction, it’s way better to have an empty spot in your heart rather than keep a damaged one.

the breeze embraced you. the goodbyes uttered were to serve as a beginning. there were new questions that formed and you knew there were tears that were yet to be spilled. but it was a start. opening a buried wound would never be pleasant, but it was way better to open it yourself than have it bare you.

staring at the newly planted hyacinth in the neighboring flower bed, you let go of a sigh. they will bloom in the spring. and you hoped that you would experience the same.

#cravitywriters #cravity imagines #cravity oneshots #cravity scenarios #cravity x reader #cravity angst #cravity fluff #serim x reader #serim #this has been in my drafts for quite a while...#finally got that push to post it u_u #cravity

87 notes · View notes

kindofinprogress · 3 years

Text

What. A. Git.

Harry Potter fell in love at 18.

At least, that’s how old he was when he realized he was in love. He’d felt quite at home in this state so surely it must have happened when he wasn’t looking. Perhaps it happened when he was 16 and playing quidditch with her in the back garden of her home or later that year when an untamed amount of anger filled him at the sight of another boy near her in all the ways he’d wish he could be. Maybe it happened after their historic first kiss in front of 50 of their peers or the subsequent, equally as historic (although much more private), “walk” after said kiss. Maybe it was later, when he was 17, sometime in the nine grueling months he had to spend away from her- where all he could do was try and not think about how much he missed her. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that, right? Or, it could have happened the second, the very mind-clouding moment, that he got to hold her in his arms again after those nine months and the battle that ended the war in which he lost so much. But not her. She managed to come out on the other side and he couldn’t thank enough deities about it if he tried.

Whenever it was- he was sure he was fully, irrevocably, assuredly, enduringly, and all of the other painfully cliche words one could come up with, in love exactly one month after she left on a train for her last year of schooling.

Harry Potter was pitiful. That’s the word that Ron used, anyway. Well, if not being able to stand missing Ginny, his Ginny after the longest, grueling month of his life then that was fine. Alright, perhaps it was possible he’d had worse months so maybe he could tone down the dramatics. But, Harry rationalized, last year he had countless “worst” months- one right after the other in what at the time seemed like an endless string. And even back then he would have given up the world to be able to drop everything and get one good look at her. And he could do that now- quite easily and with a lot less at stake.

Read on AO3

It was after dinner at the Burrow where Harry sat in a room eating a delicious plate made by a stern and loving woman who’s laugh and annoyed tuts reminded him of his Ginny, sat next to a man with his Ginny’s wonderful curiosity, and surrounded by her brothers who had a mischievous edge to their jokes which only his Ginny could rival that he decided he would do just that. Drop everything and go see her- no matter how pathetic that made him in the eyes of his best mate.

Dinner was a more quiet affair these days. Spirits had livened up just enough at the end of September to where everyone could joke and ask each other about their days with genuine interest because they didn’t always end up back at sorrow-filled points but not enough that not at least one persons’ eyes welled up with tears by the end of the night. Or that someone had to excuse themselves when they almost mentioned Fred. But tonight, it wasn’t the collective longing for Fred to fill his seat at the dinner table or the mention of Teddy and the painful reminder that a 60-year-old woman and an 18-year-old man were now his main caretakers rather than his young and kind parents that created a knot in Harry’s throat. It was the mention of Ginny and the oh-how-busy-she-must-be fussing over her too-short letters home and her oh-so-important exams at the end of the year. After she came up Harry was in no mood to answer questions about his training, or if he and Ron would want the leftovers from tonights’ dinner, or to stay ‘round for after dinner drinks with the boys. Harry did stay, not from a lack of trying to leave though. Ron practically plucked him out of the floo and forced an ale into his palm. “Lighten up, we’ll see them at the end of October in Hogsmeade. No need to let a few miles soil our night.”

So, fine. Harry stayed and sulked over exactly one drink. He bid the clan of red-headed brothers goodnight while Ron went to the loo. Harry got home, put on his pajamas, washed his face and wrote a quick note to Ginny to meet him in the Shrieking Shack on the following night- October first. It was a Thursday and Harry figured it was too early in the year for any professors to be dishing out detentions to a castle full of grieving students and it wasn’t a special feast that night so the only thing that might get in his way would be Hermione’s time table.

The next morning, after about 5 more “you’re absolutely pitiful”’s from Ron, and a detailed description of exactly what he was to tell their training Auror his excuse for skiving off in the middle of a work week Harry set off for Hogwarts.

He arrived in town with enough time to stop by the Hog’s Head and grab dinner at the dusty bar and a quick conversation with the aloof Aberforth. The night’s air was well chilly as he made his way to the old, creaking shack and it wasn’t much better from inside. Harry made quick work to try and warm the place up with some charms but only managed to make it bearably stuffy before the door from the secret passage swung wide open and a red blur launched into his chest. Harry took in her flowery scent and dug his fingers into her hips bringing her as close as possible to him. Ginny looked up and met his eyes and Harry couldn’t help but bring his mouth to hers. The kiss was simple and all-consuming. It made his mind swirl. When he finally broke it and got a good look at her face he couldn’t help the soppy grin that overtook his features. It was so easy to let the world melt away and feel so happy with his Ginny around.

“Hey, you. You didn't just come all the way here to stare at me all night did you? We have pictures for that sort of thing you know.”

“Sorry.” He blurted. “No, that’s not what I came for. But it is quite fun. Be quiet and give me about another minute, would you?”

“Harry!” She giggled and swat at his arm. She leaned in and gave him a quick peck before untangling herself from him. “Why did you come? Is everything alright?” Her expression softened with concern in a way that made her look so absolutely endearing Harry swept her up and rightfully snogged her. When they broke apart, panting and out of breath minutes later he apologized again. “Sorry- couldn’t help it.”

He gave her a sheepish smile suddenly feeling just as pathetic as Ron had painted him to be. “I just. Er- I missed you. Is all. And I- I just wanted to see you. Is that okay? I’m sorry, you didn’t have anything important going on did you? Practice? I don’t even bloody know when you practice and I just made you drop everything because I’m a pathetic sop. I’m sor-”

Ginny shut him up with one of those small pecks that took his breath and all coherent thoughts away. “You silly man. Of course it’s alright, Harry. It’s more than alright. I’ve missed you too. I do have to admit you made me nervous with that note. It didn’t say anything!”

“Oh, bugger. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it freaked Hermione out enough to let me off the hook from studying with her tonight. We’ve been going over the same bloody chapter all week, Harry! I know you warned me but Godric, Hermione is boring me to tears and I think she’s enjoying it!”

Harry laughed and they exchanged another small moment of pure bliss. She had a way of doing that, Harry noticed. Filling a moment with everything. Filling him to the brim with happiness in the most minute ways. In that moment Harry wondered if that’s what his father felt for his mother. Later, Harry would reason with himself that James must have- for if anything was worth falling in love and marrying a girl straight out of school in the middle of a war that that feeling -this feeling- must have been in.

“Please, do carry on about your wild school year full of studying and classes.”

“Oh, only if you promise to drone on about your stuffy old coworkers and shoes that pinch your toes.”

“Hey, I’m serious! I want to know everything. I know you don’t put it all in your letters. I can tell your hand gets cramped when your writing gets all crooked and starts leaning on its side- which happens in every letter so I know you haven’t included everything you’ve wanted to.”

So Ginny spent the next half hour telling Harry about everything she felt was too little to write in her letters. Truthfully, she thought they were too little to be mentioning now when they had such a short time together but he truly seemed to be enjoying the conversation so she kept on only so he would keep looking at her like that. Like she was enchanting and everything. Ginny got the sudden courage to do something she’d been terrified of for weeks. “I had my career meeting with McGonagall my first week.” Harry searched deep in his brain for something to say to that- try as he might he couldn’t think of any specifics to ask- surely she’d mentioned this to him before. It was one of the most important meetings 5th, 6th, and 7th years had yearly and Ginny must’ve- “I didn’t mention it before because what we talked about just kind of happened. I just blurted it out without meaning to and she encouraged me, Harry. Me! She really thinks I’m capable of it.” Ginny let anticipation hang in the air for a second- reveling in the way she had Harry’s undivided attention. “She’s getting scouts from all over to come watch me play! I’m going to play quidditch professionally, Harry! Well, maybe. I have to be impressive enough for them to actually offer anything but-”

“You’re going to be amazing, Gin. Those scouts won’t know what hit them.”

“Oh, Harry. I knew I was right to wait to tell you before anyone else.”

Harry’s heart swelled with pride. He felt like he’d won a prize at that. It was in that moment that Harry realized he needed this for the rest of his life. To be the first one she shared good news with, to never miss out on being her biggest supporter, to get to watch her smile like this. To be around for all things Ginny Weasley.

It was ridiculous, then, the thought that before this visit he hadn’t known he was in love with her. She was Ginny Weasley. Beautiful Ginny who had boys falling at her feet, kind Ginny who took care of everyone she came in contact with, brilliant Ginny who was quick as a whip, brave Ginny who fought in a war at age 16 and faced much darker still at age 11- his Ginny. His talented, talented Ginny who was going to be a professional athlete. How cool was that? She was so cool and brave- his Ginny. Just looking at her now, talking a mile a minute, blushing at the confession that she’d been worried about her family’s reaction to her decision- about his reaction, eliciting confidence- he knew he was head over heels in love. She deserved the world and Harry would do anything to be the one to personally hand it to her.

Harry spent a while celebrating with Ginny and reluctantly left her to go to bed -way past her curfew- after about her tenth yawn. With promises to write and see each other soon Harry left on his way home feeling much lighter than he had in weeks.

Harry had always thought when he felt love for the first time it would be a bit more climactic than this. But strangely, this felt much better than any notion of falling in love he’d built up in his head. This was easy… natural. Nothing dramatic or flashy just… just the sheer act of being with Ginny was enough. And he was so fine with that.

It wasn’t until much later- in the early hours of the morning when Harry was finally crawling into bed that he realized he hadn’t even told her he loved her. What. A. Git.

#hinny fluff #hinny #harry x ginny

97 notes · View notes

lookingforhobi · 3 years

Text

♡ Wallflower ♡

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

au/genre/warning: Fluff; dancer Hoseok; Sunshine

Word Count: 3,776

You’re the type of person who prefers silence, feels awkward in a tiny hint of spotlight, enjoys time for yourself, being in your own bubble and keeping small circle of trusted friends,

He is loud, enjoys the attention, friends with almost everyone!

Then your world turned upside down when you find yourself sharing the light with the one you’ve warned yourself to stay away from.

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

You always hated when he jokes around and makes the whole class squirm when he starts singing, rapping or dancing. You hate that he makes you smile with the way he laugh- slapping whoever is beside him or basically throwing himself everywhere. Hate that he sometimes disturbs you with annoying jokes, and most of all.. you hate how he can stop you from breathing and functioning with just a glance or more so when he says your name.

Okay, he is good-looking. And yes, talented. And yes, despite his boisterous laughter and loud personality, he is also a smart-ass. He aces exams, professors love him, and he’s really quite serious with his studies. He’s almost-perfect. Almost...because he annoys you and you know that means trouble.

So you choose to stay away from him, never acquainted yourself to him or dare get his attention. You prefer glancing from afar and being just a wallflower. You’re accustomed to being in your own bubble, minding your own business and staying away from the popular ones. Besides, you already got a plate full of responsibilities- keeping up with school, volunteering, and your job to at least help you balance your life. You’re surviving and thriving with the way you modelled your life.

But fate laughed and played on you when the yearly talent-show of the whole Uni started. You love dancing, always been your getaway from all the stress of life but never dared to join dance clubs and the like. The only time you can showcase your dancing skills is when you are forced to, like school requirements or activities. And this time, life put the greatest test on you.

“Okay, settled then! Hoseok and Y/N will lead the class for this year’s event.” Said Namjoon, the class President, as you enter the classroom from your job. You were almost out of breath from running just to get in class on time.

“Sorry, what?” you almost shouted. “The class decided, you’ll work with Hoseok while the other officers will prepare for other stuff needed. We have seen your performance during the dance show last week for our PE class and we have decided you have the talent. It’s time to finally share it, yeah? We need you to get past this semester, Y/N. Consider this as a charity for the whole class. Please?” You looked at him... His innocent smile and dimples popping out. You need to act cool and just go on with it. “I guess I don’t have a choice? If Hoseok’s okay with it then sure." It feels new to you stepping up, but maybe it is about time to make a change. Besides, you needed a break from studying and working. But then, you reminded yourself to step away from the limelight as soon as this is all over. This is just a one time thing but you’re literally anxious. You decided to shake it away. He’s out of your league anyway so it will all be good. You’re good putting up a wall.

Rehearsals are scheduled everyday after school hours, sometimes even on weekends. So this means you have to endure a month of preparation with Hoseok. It was okay at first, it’s purely dancing and putting your ideas together as a team. Hoseok leads us most of the time as he is one heck of a perfectionist when it comes to his craft. Never miss a count or else…

“Annoying!” you unconsciously blurted under your breath. “Sorry, what was that, Y/N?” he asked with his eyebrows raising. “N-Nothing. Just go on with the rehearsal. You’re good.” you said not even looking at him. You are literally shaking because him raising his eyebrows means you’re in great trouble. “Hey, this is OUR responsibility. I need you here. Please focus, Y/N!” He points at your phone, signalling to put it down. He is one perfectionist, and clearly a strict mentor! Most of the squad shivers when it’s time for business. But never forgets to be the Sunshine that he is during rest periods. He have different personas, which draws your attention to him even more. But you chose to stay in the shadow, as it is where you are comfortable…away from sunshine. You sighed and put down your phone. “Okay, from the top.” You almost shouted with annoyance.

“Okay, that’s a wrap. Tomorrow’s our free-time since you all did well today. Be careful of the rain! And inform me or Y/N if you reached your houses safely. Night, team. You all are amazing!” Hoseok says with full of enthusiasm despite dancing for hours!

“urgh! Fuck it!” you cursed while trying to contact another Uber rider. You’ve been trying to book a cab since the last break but to no avail.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Hoseok asked as he packs his stuff. All the squad are gone and now you’re here with alone with your worse nightmare.

“Uber have been cancelling on me, that’s why I am so annoyed the whole time. Sorry for it, I will try not to affect my performance next time." you said with a sigh.

“Okay, just this time. Your mood shows in your dance. Come on, I’ll drive you home. I don’t want you getting sick,". Hoseok said casually.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m good" you insisted. “Y/N, it’s night time. It’s raining. You’re my partner and my responsibility.” He looked at you and you literally gasp for air. You need to practice putting a shield up around this guy. He’s melting every inch of you with just one look. You hated it!

You managed to nod despite trying to control your breathing as he moved closer. “We need to run to my car though. I parked it there" Hoseok lead the way out of the dance studio. The rain was pouring hard, and your clothes literally hugged the shape of your body as you run towards his car. “Jump in!” he shouted as he opens the door for you. “Just our luck! We might stay here for a while. I can’t see a thing!” Hoseok exclaimed. Zero visibility means a high chance of road accidents, and you don’t want that.

“Do you have extra clothes? You can change. I promise, I’ll try not to look.” He said with a smirk.

“Urgh. I used all my extra clothes. Thanks to your nonstop dancing and glaring Mr. Jung Hoseok.” you glared with annoyance in your voice.

He laughed and pointed at the back seat “I have clean shirt and towel here.”

He leaned towards the back seat and accidentally touched your shoulder. You tremble with his touch. It sends a lot of emotions and damn butterflies everywhere. Again, you hated it!

“Are you sure? Don’t dare to look or ISTG it’ll be your last day, Hoseok" you warned. He laugh and winked, annoying you a little more. You try to cover yourself with the towel but failed. “Let me" He said almost whispering. You can feel your heart beat so fast, and your body begging for air.

He holds both ends of towel and closed his eyes “I’m not gonna look. You got to trust me. So go ahead.” He said.

He looks so perfect upclose. His lips slightly pursed. His dimples showing. His perfect lashes. His nose you just wanna pinch. He looks so calm and ethereal. “Done?” he asked, bringing you back to your consciousness.

“N-not yet.” you immediately removed your wet clothes and put on his clothes. You scolded your self as you try to keep your breathing under control. “Okay, done. Thank you.” you said as you catch your breath.

“Wow, my shirt goods on you" Hoseok compliments, looking at you from head to toe. “I’ll give it back if that’s what you’re thinking” you said shyly. “No keep it, I like it better on you" he smiled. And for the first time, you found yourself smiling back, taking in the complement from him.

“I think we’re good to go. Do you wanna grab dinner first?” he asked. You shake your head. As much as you want to spend time outside your house, your body is just too tired and cold.

When you reached your house, the rain is already stopping. “Do you wanna go inside? It’s the least thing I could do for your....kindness" you asked, genuinely thanking him. “Sure. You have dinner? I’m starving!” he said without hesitation. “I’ll cook. But you’re not gonna tell anyone!” you replied, as you roll your eyes. You’re not the type of girl who would put on great effort for food, as long as it is edible it’s okay for you. Besides, you’re used to feeding just yourself. But this time, you out-done yourself.

“Hmmm. This is delicious! I didn’t know you’re this good.” He said. “Oh Hoseok, there are more things I am good at" you blurted without thinking. He smirk, and his gaze turned dark. “L-like... like....” you try to look for things but he laughed aloud. “Let me explore that side of you, Y/N. You really caught my attention since the beginning, you know" he said without breaking eye-contact. “What? How? I never wanted to be in the spotlight. I prefer being a wallflower. So how can you say that?" you said almost whispering. Urgh this Hoseok effect is taking it’s toll on you.

“You shine everywhere you go, Y/N. It’s hard not to notice you" he whispered.

He moved closer and you find yourself leaning towards him, too.

“woaaaah Hoseok! Why are you here?” Blurted your annoying little brother Jungkook. Hoseok bit his lips and slowly smirk at you while turning to Jungkook. “Hey there. I dropped Y/N here.”

Jungkook looked at you with his wide, annoying smirk. “We just finished rehearsals. So... you wanna eat? I cooked dinner" you try to act chill but your voice is failing you.

“You what??? You never cooked for me! What's...” Jungkook was about to say more but you glared at him. You don’t want Hoseok to have a hint, or whatever. He immediately grabbed a plate and start eating while talking to Hoseok about gym and music. But you know deep inside your annoying brother, he will never let this to rest.

You walked Hoseok out of the house after dinner. The rain finally stopped and it was getting late.

“Thank you for driving me home" you said shyly. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner" he said.

You stood there for a couple of minutes, not wanting this to end. Until he gently pulled you towards him...

“Come here" he whispered. You stood frozen and he enveloped you into a tight hug. You felt secured, safe, comfortable inside his arms. “H-Hoseok..” you whispered shakily. “s-sorry Y/N. It’s...sorry. I have to go then" he retreats. You smiled and bit your lips still trying to gain composure. “I’ll call you...when I get home. “ he said and left.

He called after few minutes for a quick goodnight. You never talked about the hug or whatever happened that night. You leave it at that, you’re fine. It’s confusing for you but you prefer not to say a word. Better to stay as a wallpaper than share the spotlight and gain attention. You’ve been a wallflower since then, and it’s best for you to stay like that…. Hopefully until graduation.

-------

“Y/N! What time did you finish rehearsal last Friday?” asked Lia, my bff. “Not late. Why?” you answered while subtly looking around the classroom. “Heard you went home late?” teased Ryujin. You stared at them wide-eyed and they laughed. “No, Hoseok drove me home. Uber’s been a pain in the ass so I have no choice.” They both have this silly wide smile. You never told anyone what happened but clearly, your brother can’t get a hold of his tongue when it comes to Ryujin.

“Y/N", someone whispered from behind. “Y/N! Babe!” Hoseok said loudly that the class stopped. “What the--?” you glared back at him. “What? You’re not answering so I had to say it louder.” He said jokingly. “You’re annoying. Stay away from me Jung Hoseok!” you shouted back. You put your earphones on to ignore him and the class mocking you both. He seems to enjoy this teasing, you don’t. You hate him for that. You hated the teasing and the fact that he’s very vocal. Seems like it is just a joke, everything’s a joke. He will never get serious. “This is why I prefer to stay away from you. You’re trouble” you said to yourself.

*text message*

9:01 am: Hey, it was just a joke.

9:01 am: Please...

9:02 am: Look, I did something for you...

9:03 am: Y/N!!!!

9:03 am: I'll shout again.

You looked to his direction and he showed you a flower that he drew *insert Hobi's drawing *

You rolled your eyes and texted him back.

*text*

You: I’m a wallflower. I’m invisible. I prefer to stay that way. So please, whatever you’re planning to do, Hoseok, leave me out of it.

Hoseok: you’re not a wallflower. I see you. You shine.

You: stop it, Hoseok. Right now. Please.

You put your phone inside your bag and tried to ignore Hoseok for the rest of the day. He keeps on bugging you still, but you never let your guard down. Besides, you can hear him from afar because of his loud voice and boisterous laughter which is so easy for you to spot and stay away from. His energy transcends beyond the school walls, and he’s making your shield tremble.

During rehearsal, you can’t ignore him anymore. It’s going to be tough but you tried to keep it professional. But just as he said, your emotions can sometimes be shown in your performance. Even the whole squad knows you’re ignoring him.

“Okay. Great job. Tomorrow, same time. Same venue. And I expect everyone to give their best.” Hoseok ended the rehearsal as usual with a bossy, straight-forward attitude but with a sunshine smile.

“I’ll drive you home,” he whispered to your ears, sending signals in your body. You gasp when he moved closer and freeze when he gently touched your head. You were determined to turn him down earlier that day, but with simple touch you totally forgot that plan. You’ve been resisting, but he still won’t let go. He gave you food and water during the rehearsal break, he even gave you extra towel while you were mentoring one of the dancer. He keeps on reminding you to drink, asks for your opinion, and smiles once in a while in your direction. Whatever this is, you’re not sure. But you like the feeling of attention, it’s all new to you. You hated it, that’s for sure. But everything change when you let Hoseok pull you towards the light. Everyone notices you now, you’re getting compliments and people starts to notice the things you do and the things you excel at. It is new, and exciting, and overwhelming at the same time. Thanks to Hoseok who first noticed you, before you even notice yourself.

You stayed that way during the whole preparation time. He drives you home after rehearsals, and sometimes he picks you up during weekends. He’d park his car and have lunch in one of his favourite spot few minutes away from the city. You never talked about labels, you just enjoy talking on the phone with him till you both fall asleep, you just want to enjoy a bit of attention he gives you during school hours. He respects your wish not to disturb you or do anything cheesy during class. You both settled with silence of each other’s company. You get used to him following you around the campus- annoyingly but still being subtle. His friends stopped teasing you both when they start noticing that things between you are getting serious. It’s not just about the dance, partnerships or the fun of it now. You don’t know, but he’s changing you.

During class, he would sit far away from you. But during break time, he made sure to remind you to eat and drink. Sometimes he asks if he can sit down with your friends and couldn’t get his eyes off of you. It was uncomfortable at first, but then you found yourself looking to his direction when he’s not sited beside you. You even let him join your laboratory group and would help you manage to get through your fears of needles. You started to trust him and let him enter your bubble. Soon, you both were inseparable. Sharing sandwiches and even drinks.

“So tell me, what’s with you and Hoseok?” asks Lia. You shrugged your shoulder because that’s the truth. You do not know! You never talked about labels, who you are in his life, what’s the deal with all his sweetness and why are you letting him take the lead. “I just want to warn you, that thing-whatever you both have, is not good. You’re in for a heartbreak.” Ryujin voiced out her concern. “You need to ask him. People are starting to notice, you know. Even other class are asking and girl, get out. It’s big drama for those girls.” You sighed in response. They are right, girls have been very unsupportive with you.

On the day of the event, you prepared yourself to ask the big question. You’re not the confrontation kind of person but you need to settle this once and for all. Besides, you promised yourself at the beginning that this is just a temporary thing. After this task, you’ll go back to your own bubble, away from light.

“Wanna know my secret?” Hoseok asked before you go up the stage. “What?” you asked shakily. “I hate the spotlight, too" he said seriously. And for once you can sense his uneasiness. You unconsciously held his hand and smiled “You got this. Just think we’re still inside that dance studio. It’s just us.” you smiled. He pulled you into a tight hug and sighed, “What am I gonna do without you, babe?” he whispered and kissed your forehead which left you frozen for a moment.

“Can you celebrate after we get that trophy?” one of the squad teased and you immediately stepped back from each other. With shaky breaths and unstable heart beat, you went up the stage and dance your emotions away.

It was one tough performance. All groups are so great. But in the end, your squad won. It was one of the happiest moments but then reality sink in. It’s over. No more rehearsal flings and late night drives, what you have with Hoseok must come to an end, too. “Hey, you okay? We won but you seem off after the performance. Did I do something wrong?” he asked on your way to your house. You didn’t know how to answer so you just looked out the window and it seems like he can sense it too.

When you reached the house, Jungkook was nowhere. So no reason for him to stay longer. “Can I come inside? I think we need to talk" he said seriously. You just nodded without a single word, afraid of what’s coming. As you stepped closer inside, you can feel the impending end of what was the heart-stopping fling you’ve ever had.

“What's wrong, Y/N?” Hoseok asked wearily. “Hoseok, what are we?” you asked directly without looking at him. “We? Us?” he asked back, dumbfounded. You tightly closed your eyes trying not to cry in front of him. “We are perfectly happy with each other. We compliment each other. Aren’t we?” he asked, as he slowly lift your chin up. “Y-yes. But... are we...?” you shook my head and sighed. “I don’t know, Baby. All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t focus if I can’t see you. I need you. I like you, Y/N. Isn’t it obvious?” he whispered. You can hear his sincerity, you can feel it. “Okay.” you answered. “Don’t you feel the same way?” Hoseok asked. “I....I do. But I don’t want to assume things. I-" you didn’t finish talking. Hoseok put one finger over your lips to stop you. “oh Baby...” he whispered and touched his forehead into your.

He leaned closer and your heart starts pounding real hard. Your belly tightening, and your whole system shuts down. You closed my eyes and felt his lips kiss your shoulder and then he kissed your forehead. “Y/N. I---I want to kiss you real bad,” he whispered, asking for permission. You smiled and bit your lips. It started with a simple peck. All of your worries and what-nots slowly fading away. This, you like this. You like the feeling of security and warmth he gives you. You love the fact that he sees you even if you can’t even see yourself. That you shine for him and so does he. You let go, finally. You let him take the lead. And you know, whatever happens next, he will never let you go. You can feel his tongue gliding over your lips asking for permission. His hands roam at your back, slowly caressing every inch. It was sweet, and hot.. and the kiss deepens. He pulled you closer... You anchored your hands on the back of his neck and begin fondling his hair. His hands glide to your waist, slightly pinching your sides. You gasp and let out a small moan. “Hmm. I like that sound" he whispered, and pinched you again gently. “H-Hoseok...” you moaned his name under your breath.

“Y/N, you’re making me want to do things!” he laughed with husky voice. You looked at him and bit your lips. He smirk, “don’t look at me like that. I don’t want to force you to do things that you don’t want to do, Y/N". He tried to get away but...

“What if I want to?” you bravely answered. You have enough teasing. Yes, you hated it. You want him. You want him and all his annoying traits!

“Oh baby" he whispered and went on kissing you. This time, deeper, harsher... Like thirsty individuals tasting wine for the first time. You drunk all the feeling and stopped fighting. You let go.

“Do you wanna go upstairs?” you smirked. “Oh anywhere with you, Baby" Hoseok answered.

#Jung HoSeok #hoseok #hoseok imagine #hoseok fluff #hobi #jhope #jhope x reader #fluff #bts #bts jhope #bts imagines #wallflower #Jhope imagine

18 notes · View notes

summerdazegobye · 3 years

Text

Journal Entry - October 1st, 2021

It’s now October and I can feel 2021 quickly slipping away. This time of year always brings about reflections for me. It’s interesting that in the fall, time seems to pass more quickly than it did in the spring. The summer flew by too, perhaps because I was enjoying it.

This year started out really rough and I had predicted that the rest would be much of the same. To my surprise, the first quarter of this year was the low point and my life has improved drastically since then. In January this year, I caught covid at my job, during my first week back after working from home for nearly 9 months. Needless to say, I was pissed and that incident later led me to quit my very good paying job. I recovered from covid with a new appreciation and perspective on my health. Covid changed how I smelled, tasted and desired. The processed foods I grew up eating no longer appealed to me. I couldn’t bare to eat it anymore. The only thing that my stomach could handle was more natural foods, like fresh produce. It’s sparked an awareness of my horrible relationship with food, something I’m working on everyday.

Post-covid, I was struggling to stay afloat mentally. I was trying to balance working full time, taking graduate classes, conducting tele-therapy with children as an intern for the first time ever with no experience, and being a human with needs, desires and relationships. This was honestly the worst semester of school I’ve ever experienced. To make matters worse, in February, my sweet lil ferret Nova got hit hard with cancer and we had to put her down. It was very sudden and one of the most painful experiences I’ve been through. Nova meant the world to me. She had the brightest soul. The kind that would change the entire vibe when she scampered in the room. She was also so sneaky too. I’ve come to cherish the moments I had with Nova and I so very much appreciate the time we had together. Like all horrible things, there was some positives to take away. Nova’s death sparked a birth in me. I renewal of life. She taught me what was truly important in this world. Grieving my precious ferret baby allowed me to release all that I can’t control. Since then, my spiritual journey has taken off and I’m more aligned with my soul and purpose than ever.

As the months progressed, I finished my second semester of graduate school with much relief. It was a difficult semester and I took a very needed get away to the mountains of NC, on our annual family vacation. This yearly trip consists of the people in my life that are so close, they might as well be family. It was a great time full of love, good food and a healthy dose of mind-altering substances. This trip is particularly significant to me because of the relationships that were formed and the conversations that later led me to important personal discoveries. My mountain adventure was the start of a fun-filled summer that involved lots of self-reflection and growth, traveling and learning how to release things that no longer serve me. By June, it was very clear to me that my job was not in alignment with my higher purpose and was only a means on income. It had become a place where I had been disrespected so many times, in the most subtle ways. And I let it happen because I could always ration that the money was worth it. I thought good money was worth being told I wasn’t allowed to share my opinions because they were different or that I should wear a bra because I was a distraction to my coworkers. This experience was brutal and degrading, but I’m honestly so thankful for it. I will let this story stand as a reminder that nothing is worth trading my self-respect. To this day, I am still so proud of myself for standing up for myself and quitting that job.

The rest of the summer was a haze of freedom, good times and genuinely living my best life. It was the first time in my life since I was 14 that I didn’t have a job or any responsibilities. I had the time, space and energy to pursue whatever I desired, and boy did I discover so much about myself. I became obsessed with spiritual/personal growth and took some deep dives in my own shadow. I focused on simply existing and let myself follow whatever came up for me. This magical period abruptly ended by the start of classes mid-August. I wasn’t ready to give up my time and energy for an institution I felt had already failed me. And it was quite a rough transition. I found myself having lots of sad days again. As a social work masters student, it was very apparent that the systems that are in place to ‘help’ people are the very thing that creates obstacles and stressors. I don’t see an effective way to fix the systems so I feel like the only solution is to dismantle them and create more effective ones. It seems silly to me, like we’re sweeping the floor wearing muddy boots. There’s no point. Yes, of course these people need help and we should do what we can to assist them. However, if we all focused on creating a better world and society, I know we’d be able to thrive. Anyways, that’s a whole other conversation for another day.

Fast forward and it’s now October 1st. I still feel trapped by school but I’ve adjusted to my new schedule and I’m able to have meaningful experiences that don’t make each day suck. I’m excited about the future and feel confident that I can create the life I want and enjoy. I know that I can shape my reality by speaking my intentions and desires to the universe. I feel intrinsically connected to the collective consciousness. I’m amazed at how things seem to just work out for me, which is a stark contrast to how I felt about most of my life until this point. I find it quite comical how powerful we are as human beings and I’m excited to continue to develop as a soul and energetic being. I’m excited about the new experiences I haven’t had yet and the downloads I’ve yet to receive. Life is scary and daunting but also so very beautiful and exciting. I’m so very grateful for this life.

#reflection #self-acceptance

3 notes · View notes

catsafarithewriter · 4 years

Text

Day 4: Musical

A/N: This is, unusually, a Natori & Cat King ficlet, exploring the chaos of double retirement, inspired (and referencing) the song: “If I Were A Jolly Blacksmith” from the musical TV show: Galavant. (Hence posting it on Musical day) I’ve really enjoyed this, so maybe I’ll write more on the retired concept. Who knows?

Also, a big shout out to @linchxpin for very kindly allowing me to play with their headcanons for Natori’s past!

Natori took to retirement like a landlocked duck took to the sea. That is to say, once he figured he wasn’t in any major danger of drowning, he wondered why he hadn’t retired years ago.

Of course, the core reason was the cat who had retired alongside him.

Regardless, the switch from working cat to retiree was aided by two factors. The first was simply that he was tired. If the Cat Kingdom had possessed a functioning economy, the thought: “I don’t get paid enough for this” would have passed through his head multiple times a day. Since it hadn’t, his brain had substituted the thought for a swan-like state - graceful and smooth on the surface, and incoherent confused babbling beneath.

And the second reason was that not much had fundamentally changed. He still had an irresponsible, power-crazed old cat to kittensit, only now when the irresponsible, power-crazed old cat decreed that Tuesdays would now be known as Second Mondays, Natori could pat the ex-king’s paw and go, “Maybe not, Sire,” instead of having to change all the palace calendars and politely ask the servants to play along for the next month.

(Early into his tenure as a royal advisor, he had taken to bribing the servants into backing up the ruse. Later in his career, he had realised that the King’s attention span didn’t stretch far enough for him to realise that Tuesdays still existed outside the palace.)

But while Natori was like a duck in the ocean of retirement, the ex-king was more akin to a stone.

Natori wasn’t sure what had possessed him to agree to the ex-king crashing in on his retirement plans, except that old habits die hard and he had felt that Lune would benefit from his father being out of meddling range, but agree he had.

Anyway, Natori had managed for... too many years to count. He could manage a little longer. At least until the ex-king found some direction.

And so the two palace cats had found themselves in Natori’s kittenhood home, out in the edges of the Cat Kingdom and squarely in the mouse belt. (That stretch of scrub land dominated by villages which had risen out of mouse husbandry, and whose yearly highlight was the annual scarecrow contest.)

In such a village, there wasn’t much use for an ex-king, not unless he could harvest catnip, or sheer a rabbit, or wrangle a mouse, and the ex-king definitely wasn’t one of such persuasion.

(He had watched, with some horrified fascination, as a butcher skinned one such mouse in the shop window, and had briefly sworn himself to vegetarianism until Natori had politely reminded him that cats were obligate carnivores, and then repeated the explanation with smaller words.)

As such, lately the ex-king had turned to contemplation - a markedly foreign concept to the cat for whom “reconsideration” was a survey of side courses. Natori had even found him once in the library. A scary enough situation even before one considered that the ex-king hadn’t known where the palace library was located in all his years living there.

He had asked Natori’s advice on words such as “self actualisation” and “inner peace,” at which point Natori had confiscated the book and distracted him with the golf club their neighbour had made for him.

It wasn’t that Natori was against cats reaching self actualisation or inner peace. In theory, it sounded all very nice and relaxing. But after a lifetime trying to gently steer his monarch away from stupid ideas and sometimes even succeeding, Natori had learnt to trust his gut. And he knew that the ex-king would take such ideas and run completely in the wrong direction with them and probably start a few fires in the process - not all figurative ones, either.

And the point of all this was that when “Young Gizmo Junior” came running over bellowing “Mr Natori! Mr Natori!” Natori knew exactly who was at the centre of whatever chaos he was about to be dragged into.

Young Gizmo Junior, a runt of a tabby who had yet to grow into his paws, fumbled up to the cottage’s porch with the kind of frenzied energy that comes from being torn away from interesting happenings. “Come quick, Mr Natori,” the kitten gasped. “It’s your friend!”

Natori lowered the cross-stitch he had finally been making progress on, and felt his heart dip along with it. “Oh no. What has he done now? Is it the mice? The rabbits? Please tell me he hasn’t fallen into the salmon river again--”

“No, Mr Natori, it’s worse. He’s singing!”

Natori blinked. "But he doesn’t sing,” Natori said. “At least,” he amended, “not while sober.”

‘Please don’t let it be catnip wine again, please don’t let it be catnip wine again, please don’t let it be catnip wine again,’ his mind chanted, ever hopeful that he had developed magic wishing powers since the last time he had fervently wished for a saner life. (Last Second Monday.)

It was not catnip wine.

It was somehow worse.

Natori slowly leaned over to Young Gizmo Junior and whispered, “And how long has he been at this?”

“He was on the...” Young Gizmo Junior counted on his claws and scrunched up his face when he surpassed his last easily countable claw, “eleventeenth verse when Grandpa told me to fetch you.”

Natori raised both eyebrows and nearly unsettled his spectacles in the process. “This is bad.”

“What’s he doing?” Young Gizmo Junior asked.

“I’ve heard of this before. He’s on the third stage of Searching For Himself.”

“Why does he need to search for himself? He’s right there.”

“You know that and I know that,” Natori said, “but cats who go searching for themselves don’t. The first stage is talking to oneself, the second is staring into the nearest water source--”

“Grandpa said he was staring at the well funny--”

“--and the third is bursting into song,” Natori continued. He couldn’t remember the next step, but that was mostly because the ex-king had begun another verse, and Natori’s mind had tapped out.

“If I were a jolly blacksmith,

What a happy cat I’d be,” the ex-king crooned, rounding towards Old McGregor’s workshop.

“I would do all kinds of blacksmith stuff in my blacksmithery...

“I’d hit the thing... with the other thing.

“Till I made a different thing!

“If I were a jolly blacksmith...”

The ex-king trailed off, and if Natori hadn’t been assured that this was the eleventeenth verse, he might well have believed that that would be the end of it. But the ex-king didn’t know the meaning of defeat - mostly because the Cat Kingdom didn’t have dictionaries - and so, after a little bit of muttering (that Natori caught the tail end of “No, I’m not feeling it. Besides, I’d get filthy. There must be something better”) he perked up and made a beeline for Maggie’s meat pie stand.

“If I were a friendly farmer,

“Wouldn’t that be oh so sweet?

“I’d be planting greens and lots of beans,

“And other things to eat.

“Then I’d plant some eggs, and a couple mice,

“Then a yummy salmon cake!”

The ex-king paused, vaguely aware somewhere in the recesses of his kittenhood education that it didn’t quite work that way.

(”No,” he muttered, “that’s not right,” and Natori briefly thought there was hope yet. Then the ex-king continued with, “Any moron can plant a cake,” and the farmer upbringing in Natori cringed.)

Natori leaned over to Young Gizmo Junior. “Why can I hear a pipe playing?”

“That’s Uncle Saburo,” the kitten replied cheerfully. “He’s really good!”

“He’s also encouraging someone who needs no encouragement. Trust me.”

“I want to be special,” the ex-king continued, undeterred from the whispered conversations. “Needed. Liked. I’ve got it!” he cried, and made a dash for Rosie’s valerian wine shop front.

(Part of Natori knew he should stop this. The other part really wanted to see how this worked out. Historically, the latter was a bad idea, but Natori put it down to shock.)

“If I were a merry brewer,

“That would be a grand career,

“I would pick the grapes and peel the grapes

“And stomp them into catnip beer-- dammit!”

The ex-king slumped down onto a convenient crate, which Rosie suddenly decided she didn’t need right now. “I don’t know how to do anything but be a king,” he lamented. “And no one wants me to be a king.”

“Mr Natori,” Young Gizmo Junior piped up, “shouldn’t you go help your friend?”

“Not yet,” Natori said. “Let him finish first.”

“Why?”

“Because one does not interrupt a cat when he’s singing an existential crisis song,” Natori replied firmly.

“If I’m just a jolly... nothing,

“What am I supposed to do?

“I don’t have a skill, no niche to fill,

“No one to come home to.”

Natori had a sink full of dirty dishes that argued otherwise.

“Don’t know where to go,

“Don’t know how to fit,

“Don’t know who to even be.

“If I were a jolly tailor... juggler... barber... wet nurse... cesspool worker...”

The ex-king sighed and shook his head. “What difference does it make? I would still be me...”

Natori waited a moment longer. When the last echoes of Uncle Saburo’s pipe playing had died away, he sighed and approached the aged cat. “Sire?”

“Go away Natori,” the ex-king grumbled. “I’m brooding.”

Natori didn’t go away. He waited a moment longer, just until the other cat’s ears began to twitch. He could read his old monarch’s tempers better than he could read his father’s book on Mouse Husbandry.

“Brooding’s rather boring, isn’t it, sire?”

The ex-king scowled. “Yeah.”

“Do you want go down to the Mouse’s Tale pub and see if we can convince Chaucer to let you try darts again? Maybe you’ll even hit the wall this time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Stage four of Searching For Yourself, Natori decided, was getting yourself uproariously drunk.

If the rest of the evening was anything to go by, the ex-king agreed.

#day 4 musical #tcr birthday bash 2019 #the cat returns #tcr birthday bash 2020 #the cat queues #cat writes #the misadventures of royal retirement #aka my name so far for retired natori and CK #also there's a king in faerie tale theatre's Princess and the Pea who makes mad decrees and nobody listens #and that's basically become one of my little headcanons #like technically the cat kingdom has a lot of insane decrees #but they're not really used #decrees are more like a doodling board for the kings' consciousnesses #rather than actual lavvs #after this at least three old cats ask natori about getting the CK to sing in the village choir

11 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Falling in Temptation

Previous chapters || Sequel to Stars Dance

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor/ Female OC

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Ch. 4: A Wife, a Baby and a Secret

Chapter summary: The Doctor finally gets to meet his TARDIS in person...at the same time his biggest secret comes to light in front of Avalon. And why does the TARDIS keep calling them her 'thief and baby'?

Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

Rory was listening to the Doctor tell some type of weird tale while they waited for Avalon and Amy to come into the room for the newest of their trips. Rory tried keeping up with the Doctor but the man was all over the place with this story. It had to be fake.

"...then we discovered it wasn't the robot king after all, it was the real one. Fortunately, I was able to re-attach the head."

Rory rolled his eyes and thankfully saw Amy coming by from the stairs. "Do you believe any of this stuff?"

"I was there," Amy muttered as she walked by, "And you can only imagine how terrified Lena was and how awed Avalon was."

"Oh, it's the warning lights," the Doctor turned to the controls and slapped it, forgetting about his tale, "I'm getting rid of those, they never stop!"

"Maybe instead of getting rid of them you should try seeing what they're alerting you of," Avalon strolled into the room from the downstairs hallway. "Might be important, just a note."

"Woah, what are you all dressed for?" Amy took notice of Avalon's clothing, "Seem preppier than usual," she smirked.

"Shut up," Avalon tugged on her pink skirt. She was dressed in a white, long-sleeved, horizontally striped blouse, tucked under a pink skirt and accompanied it with knee-length brown boots. Her hair had a thin headband with a thin ribbon bow on its side keeping her ginger locks out of her face.

"Ava, any specific reason for your clothing of today?" the Doctor asked with a genuine curiosity, blinking rapidly with a slight tint of pink on his cheeks. He shook his head fast and looked at the console, pushing away all those nonsense thoughts away.

"Hold on, hold on," Rory stood up from his chair and moved to Avalon, giving her a sharp look. It seemed like he was beginning to remember something. "Lena?"

"Yes," Avalon nodded.

"Yearly visit from the hospital?"

"Yes."

"Doctor Ian?"

"Aha."

"And let me guess, promised some type of visit to...?" Avalon fiddled with her fingers as she deferred the answer, making Rory frown, "Ava," he rose his voice.

"He said he was gonna show me the city!" Avalon exclaimed, though since her eyes kept darting to the side it told Rory there was more to it than she was giving.

"AVA--"

"It's a party!" Avalon exploded from all the questions and looks being thrown at her. She never liked how much power Rory had over her when it came to telling the truth. "And I'm not gonna miss it for the end of the world!" Avalon hurried over to the Doctor, "So I'm gonna need you to do all that coordinates and stuff, please."

"I am not taking you to a party," the Doctor flatly said. He knew exactly what that led to, thanks to Amy and Rory. "I've heard of your track record for parties, and I don't think so!" he tapped her nose, later wondering if he should have really done that.

"Rory exaggerated," Avalon shot her best friend a glare.

Rory crossed his arms and looked at the Doctor, seeming very much certain of what he had said. "Take it from the person who's bailed her out every time she was thrown in jail and picked her up after she was too drunk...I have not exaggerated."

Avalon groaned, "Just take me home for the day! Ian promised and I intend to make sure it's followed through!"

"What is so important about this?" the Doctor had to question.

"I think you missed the whole party thing," Amy shook her head, "Woman loves a good party."

"I like to have fun, sue me," Avalon huffed.

"What, and I haven't provided enough fun for you?" the Doctor found himself asking, or rather demanding to know, and believed that to be a tad unnecessary. But still…he was fun, right? She always had fun when they were together…right?

Avalon took it as amusement and laughed, "Of course you have, but this is different. Look, Ian comes around once a year to check if everything is alright with Lena. The last time I saw him, I still wasn't 21 so I couldn't go anywhere. And then I came here with you so I've missed the opportunity. But I just called and Ian still offered to take me as he promised. It's important!"

At that moment, the group heard a knock on the TARDIS door, making everything go quiet while the Doctor whirled around for the doors.

"Hold on," Avalon shook her head, "Was that a knock?"

"I believe so..." the Doctor slowly walked for the doors.

"Right, but we are in deep space," Rory pointed out.

"Very, very deep," the Doctor nodded, hearing the second round of knocks.

"And you sure you want to open it when we're in deep space?" Avalon called, "Perhaps you should check the monitor to see what's waiting outside?"

"I thought you were all about the fun, Ava," he stopped at the doors and looked back at her with a smirk, "Why are you trying to ruin it?'

"Well because she's not stupid," Amy answered.

"Thank you," Avalon nodded, "Now get back here and check the-"

The Doctor opened the doors and ended that conversation. Waiting outside was a small box floating and glowing white, "Oh, come here. Come here, you scrumptious little beauty!" he reached for the box only for it to go whiz inside the TARDIS. It went around the room and made a turn back to him, hitting him in the chest and landing right into his hands.

"A box?!" Rory cried, getting over the small heart attack from the surprise box flying about.

"Doctor, what is it?" Amy wanted a closer look at the box but was still frightened it might try something again.

"I've got mail!" the Doctor exclaimed and walked back to the console.

"And you're excited because...?" Avalon wondered. If it was just random mail - junk mail - what was so cool about it?

"Time Lord emergency messaging system," the Doctor corrected her thoughts, "In an emergency, we'd wrap up thoughts in psychic containers and send them through time and space. Anyway, there's a Time Lord out there, and it's one of the good ones!"

"But you said there were no other Time Lords left," Avalon reminded cautiously, really hoping he hadn't forgotten that important detail.

"There are no Time Lords left in the universe, but the universe isn't where we're going!" he chucked the box over to Amy for them to see. Amy still stared at the box with some degree of horror as if it would come back to life. "See that snake on it? The mark of the Corsair. Fantastic bloke. He had that snake as a tattoo in every regeneration," the Doctor started going around the console to start the box up, "Didn't feel like himself without the tattoo. Or herself, a couple of times. Ooh, she was a bad girl!" the TARDIS shook suddenly and nearly knocked them all to the floor.

"What's happening?!" Avalon cried as she held onto the console.

"You don't mind if I attend to this first instead of your little party trip, do you?"

"I guess not!"

"Good, because we're already leaving the universe!"

"How can you leave the universe?" Rory incredulously stared at the Doctor while also holding on.

"With enormous difficulty! Right now I'm burning up TARDIS rooms to give us some welly," the Doctor flipped a couple switches, "Goodbye, swimming pool, goodbye scullery, sayonara, squash court seven!"

After several more jolts, the TARDIS finally stopped and allowed the group to gather their bearings.

"OK. OK," Rory looked at Amy and Avalon to make sure they were fine, "Where are we?"

"Outside the universe, where we've never, ever been," the Doctor smirked with pride...until the entire power wound down to a brim dim light.

"I don't suppose that's meant to happen...?" Avalon stared at the rotor that was nearly dark now.

"The power. It's draining," the Doctor breathed, stunned as he tried some of the controls, "Everything's draining! But it can't. That's... That's impossible."

"What is that?" Amy asked.

"It's as if the matrix, the soul of the TARDIS, has just vanished. Where would it go?"

"Well why don't we go and find out," Avalon rushed for the doors with the intention of opening them to see what laid on the other side.

"No, Ava! Don't!" Rory called after her, the ginger thankfully stopping as she reached for the doors.

"Really, Rory? The Doctor's just brought us to a place that's outside the universe, did you really expect me not to go run and find out what's out there?"

"I just don't want to get a call from outside the universe saying my best friend's been jailed," Rory sharply looked at her.

"Is it bad if I can see that already?" Amy barely managed to contain a laugh.

"Shut up," Avalon pointed at her, frowning, "Doctor?"

"Yeah, alright, c'mon," the Doctor hurried over, ignoring the calls of Rory who continued to be worried for his best friend.

Together, Avalon and the Doctor stepped out into a massively cluttered environment. It looked more like a dump than anything else. There were parts of all sizes from spaceships around as well as every day objects.

"So what kind of trouble's your friend in?" Avalon questioned distractedly as she moved around to the different piles of messes.

"He was in a bind, a bit of a pickle, sort of distressed," the Doctor tried to answer.

"Aw, you can't just say you don't know," Amy mocked a pout on her face as she and Rory stepped out.

"But what is this?" Rory made a face at the sight, not very impressed. "The scrap yard at the end of the universe?"

"Not end of, outside of," the Doctor reminded.

"How we can we be outside the universe? The universe is everything."

The Doctor put an arm around Rory's shoulders whole he explained, "Imagine a great big soap bubble with one of those tiny little bubbles on the outside."

"OK."

Avalon rolled her eyes and turned around, hands on her hips, "And let me guess, it's nothing like that, is it?"

The Doctor pointed at her with a nod, "Exactly," he turned to the TARDIS and pit a hand on it, frowning at the sight, "Completely drained, look at her."

"I thought you said the TARDIS can refuel on rift energy," Avalon looked around, "And hello, energy right here," she gestured.

"Yeah, she'll probably refuel just by being here," the Doctor agreed and moved away from the TARDIS, "Now this place, what do we think, eh?" he picked up dirt and chucked it into the air, "Gravity's almost earth-normal, air's breathable, but it smells like..."

"Armpits," Amy finished with a sour face.

"That's the word I've been looking for!" Avalon laughed, Amy doing the same seconds later.

"Where did this stuff come from?" Rory wondered, seeing there were all kinds of clutter with no apparent pattern.

"There's a rift," the Doctor reminded, "Now and then, stuff gets sucked through it. Not a bubble, a plughole. The universe has a plughole and we've fallen down it."

"Thief! Thief! You're my thief!" A young woman, Idris, dressed in a tattered Victorian dress, ran straight for the Doctor.

"She's dangerous!" called another voice, that of an other woman, Auntie, "Guard yourselves!"

Rory quickly grabbed Amy and Avalon and pulled them behind as Idris reached the Doctor, "Look at you!" she gaped at his face, "Goodbye! No, not goodbye, what's the other one?" she grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him.

"Watch out! Careful, keep back from her!" another man, Uncle, helped Auntie get Idris away from the Doctor, "Welcome, strangers, lovely. Sorry about the mad person."

"Why am I a thief?" the Doctor frowned at the accusation, "What have I stolen?"

"Me. You're going to steal me," she got to thinking then shook her head, "No, you have stolen me. You are stealing me. Tenses are difficult, aren't they?"

"Oh, we are sorry, my dove. She's off her head," Auntie shook the Doctor's hand, "They call me Auntie."

"I'm Uncle," the other man gave a small wave, "I'm everybody's uncle. Just keep back from this one, she bites!"

"Do I? Excellent," Idris cheered then promptly bit into the Doctor's neck.

"Ow! No, ow, ow!" the Doctor cried as they pulled off Idris.

"Oh, biting's excellent!" Idris clapped excitedly, "It's like kissing, only there's a winner!"

"Sorry. She's doolally," Uncle apologetically smiled.

"I think it's bit worse than that," Avalon mumbled but was heard by Idris.

"Oh! My baby!" Idris clapped and ran off to Avalon, encasing her in a big hug.

"Someone get the crazy woman off me!" Avalon waved her hands to the others, her eyes wide with alarm at the thought of the woman trying to bite her next.

"Idris, no, no," Auntie removed Idris off Avalon.

"And what was that about a baby?" Avalon raised an eyebrow at Idris.

"Oh, you know? The little small creature you have to, you know...?" Idris mimicked rocking a baby in her arms but all anyone did was stare at her.

"Right..." For safety reasons, Avalon decided to take several steps away from her. "Is that TARDIS field up already?" And she flinched when Idris let out a loud laughter, as if teasing her, "Did I say something funny?"

And just like that, Idris stopped laughing and turned to the Doctor, "Now you're angry...or, no you're not," she got to thinking again, "You will be angry," she pointed with a proud smile at her clarification, "The little boxes will make you angry."

"Sorry?" the Doctor stepped closer to her, alarmed at the coincidental use of 'boxes', "The little what? Boxes?"

"Your chin is hilarious!" She chuckled as she pinched his chin, once again stopping all of a sudden as she looked to Rory, "It means the smell of dust after rain."

"What does?" He raised an eyebrow, misunderstanding.

"Petrichor."

"But I didn't ask..."

"Not yet. But you will."

"No, Idris, I think you should have a rest," Auntie tried to reach for the woman again but Idris stepped off and looked around.

"Yes, yes, good idea!" Idris nodded, " I'll just see if there's an off switch," she dropped down to where Rory caught her, unconscious.

"Is that it?" Uncle questioned as Rory checked for vitals, "She dead now, so sad."

"Yeah, you really look like it," Amy noticed with distaste.

"She's still breathing," Rory concluded after a moment.

"Nephew, take Idris somewhere she can not bite people," Uncle ordered a near-coming Ood.

The Doctor turned to see the Ood coming around and smiled, "Oh, hello!"

Amy jumped at the sight and backed away, "Doctor, what is that?"

"It's all right. It's an Ood!" the Doctor walked over to the other alien, "Oods are good, love an Ood. Hello, Ood. Can't you talk?" he noticed the dim translator sphere, "Oh, I see, it's damaged. May I?" he opened the top half and started rewiring, "It might be on the wrong frequency."

"Nephew was broken when he came here. Why, he was half dead," Auntie shrugged, "House repaired him. House repaired all of us."

"I'm not sure that's the right word," Avalon mumbled and received an elbow on part of Rory who set down Idris, "Ow," she looked down at the scolding look he gave her, "Sorry," she mumbled with a frown.

As soon as the Doctor had finished with the translator sphere, a series of garbled messages were overheard by the group, "If you are receiving this message, please help me. Send a signal to the High Council of the Time Lords on Gallifrey. Help! I'm still alive! I don't know where I am. I'm on some rock-like planet," the Ood switched off the translator and left an air of awkwardness and tension around.

"What was that? Was that him?" Amy wondered as the Doctor turned to face them, rather confused himself.

"No, no, it's picking up something else. But that's... That's not possible," he mumbled to himself then looked at Auntie and Uncle, "That's... Who else is here? Tell me. Show me! Show me!"

"Just what you see. It's just the four of us, and the House," Auntie nodded, "Nephew, will you take Idris somewhere safe where she can't hurt nobody?" the Ood did as told and took Idris away from them.

"The House?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, "What's the House?"

"House is all around you, my sweets. You are standing on him," Auntie to the ground while Uncle jumped up and down for visuals, "This is the House. This world. Would you like to meet him?"

"Meet him!?" Rory quickly shook his head at the idea.

"I'd love to," the Doctor nodded at the two inhabitants.

"This way. Come, please. Come," Uncle led them away but the group remained back for a couple of moments.

"Something's wrong," Avalon crossed her arms, "He's making that face again," she said as the Doctor turned to them.

"What face?" he frowned.

"That one," she pointed.

"What were those voices?" Amy agreed with Avalon and asked the question they all had.

"Time Lords. It's not just the Corsair," he started backing away into the direction Auntie and Uncle had gone off to, "Somewhere close by there are lots and lots of... Time Lords!"

~ 0 ~

The group entered a cavern where the Doctor immediately ran to a grate and looked down into it. Meanwhile, Auntie and Uncle moved towards the grate, "Come. Come, come," Uncle motioned to the humans, "You can see the House and he can look at you and he..."

"I see," the Doctor still observed the grate, "This asteroid is sentient."

"We walk on his back, breathe his air," Auntie said, "Eat his food..."

"Smell its armpits," Amy mumbled, Avalon snickering quietly as they walked around.

"And do my will," the two stopped at the different voice that now overtook Auntie and Uncle, "You are most welcome, travelers."

"Let me guess," Avalon put her hands on her hips, "That would be 'House' we're now talking to? It's a bit creepy, you know, taking over a body...bodies."

"Yes," the Doctor looked up at the controlled pair, "So you're like a... sea urchin. Hard outer surface. That's the planet we're walking on. Big, squashy, oogly thing inside. That's you."

"That is correct, Time Lord," House answered.

"Ah! So you've met Time Lords before?"

"Many travelers have come through the rift, like Auntie and Uncle and Nephew. I repair them when they break."

"Someone should get him the definition of 'repair'," Avalon whispered to Amy and Rory, Rory giving a scolding look at her while Amy snickered quietly.

"So there are Time Lords here then?" the Doctor looked around the place in suspicion.

"Not any more," House replied, "But there have been many Tardises on my back in days gone by."

"Well, there won't be any more after us," the Doctor hopped off the grate, "Last Time Lord. Last TARDIS."

"A pity. Your people were so kind. Be here in safety, Doctor. Rest, feed, if you will," with that, House released the control over Auntie and Uncle.

"We're not actually going to stay here, are we?" Avalon asked him, already making faces, "No offence but this planet is a bit creepy..."

"It seems like a friendly planet," the Doctor tried to excuse his intentions and looked back Auntie and Uncle, "Literally. Mind if we poke around a bit?"

"You can look all you want. Go, look. House loves you," Auntie had cupped Amy's face with her hands, the Doctor noticing that one of the hands weren't exactly matching.

"Come on then, gang. We're just going to, erm... see the sights," the Doctor moved around the group and headed for the exit.

The others quickly followed into the tunnels where they could almost hear Idris shouting once again. The Doctor stopped in the middle of the tunnel and nearly made the others bump into him, "Sh, shh," he raised a finger as he listened.

"So what now, then?" Avalon moved around as she explored the tunnel, "I don't suppose we were actually going to 'see the sights'."

"You would suppose right," the Doctor nodded and began walking again.

"But as soon as the TARDIS is refueled, we go, yeah?" Rory tried to get them back on track, wanting to avoid trouble (if that was even possible).

"No. There are Time Lords here," the Doctor turned to them, "I heard them and they need me."

"You told me about your people," Amy reminded, never noticing him stiffen and tense, "And you told me what you did."

"What did he do?" came Avalon's innocent question of the hour. She then noticed the odd looks she was getting from Amy and Rory, and especially the guilty expression on the Doctor's face, "Hello, question asked and answer needed," she frowned at all the silence.

"Ava, I need a favor," the Doctor pointed at her, doing his best not to seem so...well, guilty.

"Like what?" she frowned again at the blatant ignorance she was getting for her question.

"I, um, need my screwdriver. I left it in the TARDIS, can you get it for me?"

"Are you gonna answer my question, then?"

"After you bring the screwdriver..."

"I'm holding you to that," Avalon warned and headed off.

"Are you kidding me?" was the first thing Amy had to say as soon as Avalon was out of hearing-distance, "You never told her what you did?" she raised an eyebrow at the Doctor who'd gone silent again.

"I did tell her..." he said meekly, shifting under the irritated glare of the ginger, "...just, not all."

Rory was as stunned as Amy. "I don't get it, you told Lena. How did you get around that with Ava? Why would you go around that?"

"I have my reasons, alright," the Doctor turned away from them, "Please don't tell her anything, that's all I ask."

"I'm sorry, have you met Avalon Reynolds? She's not gonna let it go," Amy shook her head, "What exactly did you tell her, just curious to know."

The Doctor sighed, "Same thing, same story, there was a war, it all ended..."

"How did it end?"

"...casualties, utter casualties from the war."

"Wait, so she thinks you just happened to survive? That's not like Ava, she's smarter than that. And you are kinder than that," Rory's voice of disapproval was affected the Doctor more than what he would've liked. It just added onto his guilt.

"Why would you do that?" Amy repeated the dire question, her anger fading once she saw the quiet, guilty behavior the Doctor wore, "You told all of us but not her?"

"She's different, leave it at that!"

Amy glanced at Rory with a knowing look, assuming there was a 'special' interest in their ginger friend the Doctor wasn't willing to yet admit. "Alright, just...tell us what to do because she's really not gonna stop asking," Amy sighed.

The Doctor looked back at them, genuine plead in his eyes, "Please just tell her something else, please."

"We will, but...sooner or later, you're going to have to tell her what really happened," Rory sadly said to the man.

"I pick later," the Doctor mumbled.

"Well in the meantime you think about how you're going to word your answer, and the proper one," Amy clarified, "I'll buy you time by keeping her in the TARDIS. I assume the screwdriver was a ploy?"

"You would assume very right."

Amy rolled her eyes, "She's so gonna kill you later," she chucked her phone at him, "Stay out of trouble, Rory look after him," and she went off for the TARDIS.

"You should probably go because then Ava will try to kill her for attempting to distract her. Give me a call when you get there," the Doctor warned Rory who quickly nodded in agreement and hurried off. After being left alone, the Doctor took a breath and continued on his way, hoping to every deity he knew he could somehow defer the truth from Avalon. He just wasn't ready for her to know what he did and...

He shook his head, not even wanting to think about it.

~ 0 ~

As Avalon reached the TARDIS she realized she could be missing the truth being said back with her friends and so when she heard the calls of Amy and Rory nearing, she dashed to hide behind the TARDIS. She knew those two like the back of her hands, it would only be a matter of seconds until they started talking. She moved to the side and then carefully back to the doors and pressed an ear to listen in. But the sound of a lock went through her ear instead.

"Amy...Rory?" she called to them.

"Ava!?" Rory shouted, "What are you doing out there?"

"Being sneaky, what else?"

"Why'd you lock the door?" Amy added, sounding irritated.

"I didn't..." Avalon blinked with an idea, "...I did," she changed her declaration, "And I won't unlock it until one of you tells me what the Doctor did."

She heard Any scoff, and loudly, "He has the screwdriver, stupid! You didn't lock it."

"I'm gonna kill him," Avalon muttered, "Just tell me what he did!" she shouted to the others.

"It was...nothing," Rory came up with.

It was Avalon's turn to scoff, "Rory Williams the day you can lie will be the day of the apocalypse. Tell me what he did!"

"That's it, I'm calling the Doctor again," she heard Amy tell Rory.

Avalon growled with exasperation, a deep scowl forming on her face, "Ah, forget you two!" she turned and ran back the way she'd come from, determinant to know the oh-so-big-secret that fairy-tale man was hiding from her. Everyone else knew, why didn't she?

~ 0 ~

The Doctor had come across a small alcove in which he sensed there were more Time Lords, apparently, "Well, they can't all be in here," he frowned as he continued to hear more murmurs of voices from a cabinet. That certainly couldn't be right. He opened the cabinet and found it was full of more message boxes from which the voices were coming from. From behind, Auntie and Uncle slowly came in, "Just admiring your Time Lord distress signal collection," the Doctor bitterly remarked, "Nice job. Brilliant job. Really thought I had some friends here... but this is what the Ood translator picked up. Cries for help from the long dead," he tuned around, "How many Time Lords have you lured here, the way you lured me? And what happened to them all?"

"House, House is kind and he is wise," Auntie stuttered to say.

"House repairs you when you break. Yes, I know!" the Doctor snapped loudly, making the two flinch, "But how does he mend you?" he took out the sonic and used it on Uncle, "You have the eyes of a 20 year old."

"Thank you," Uncle smiled.

"I mean it literally. Your eyes are 30 years younger than you are," the Doctor pointed, going into a fit of angry rambles, "Your ears don't match, your right arm is two inches longer than your left, and how's your dancing, 'cause you've got two left feet. Patchwork people. You've been repaired and patched up so often, I doubt there's anything left of what used to be you," he put the sonic away and slapped Auntie's hand, "I had an umbrella like you once."

"Oh, now, it's been a great arm for me, this," Auntie held up her arm with a smile.

The Doctor stumbled back at the sight of the snake tattoo on her arm, "Corsair."

"He was a strapping big bloke, wasn't he, Uncle? Big fella," Auntie recalled with a chuckle, "I got the arm and then Uncle got the spine and the kidneys."

"Kidneys," the Doctor shook his head, "You gave me hope, and then you took it away. That's enough to make anyone dangerous. God knows what it will do to me! Basically... run!"

"Poor old Time Lord. Too late. House is too clever," Uncle mumbled and ran off after Auntie.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair in frustration and anger and turned to leave when he saw Avalon standing at the threshold. Oh, he knew what kind of additional trouble there'd be now. "Ava..." he took a cautious step towards her. Avalon ignored it and came straight up to him and hugged him, "Oh-okay..." confused, he hugged back.

"I'm so sorry for their cruel trick," she whispered sincerely. The Doctor fell into the hug and stayed silent for the moment, "I still want to know what you really did, apparently," she felt him stiffen and sighed as she looked up at him, "What's going on, Fairy Tale Man?"

The Doctor looked at her and tried to will himself to tell her but simply couldn't.

Seeing she'd get nothing right now, Avalon stepped back with a frown, "By the way, Amy and Rory are pretty crossed for locking them in," she crossed her arms.

"I got their call," the Doctor nodded, speaking quietly.

"You were planning to lock me up with them too," she huffed, "To avoid my questions, right?" She rolled her eyes at his silence and turned for the doorway, "Sometimes you frustrate me so much!" She threw her hands in the air.

"A-Ava!" the Doctor rushed after her.

Avalon ignored his calls and strode down the tunnels, knowing exactly where they needed to go. The distressed Time Lord continued to call for her, making Avalon feel rather special for a moment. Served him right.

~ 0 ~

"Alright you visionary, how'd you know about the boxes?" Avalon demanded from Idris as she and the Doctor came up to the cell Idris was in.

"Ah, it's my thief," Idris stood from her seat inside her cell and walked up to the door, "And my baby!"

Avalon raised an eyebrow at the woman's choice of words, "Okay, I can understand why you call him a 'thief' but-"

However, the Doctor scoffed loudly and intervened, "This coming from the woman who holds one of the biggest criminal records."

And then Avalon made a 'no talking' gesture with her hand, pressing her four index fingers over her thumb, "Sh! Avalon's talking," she flashed him a fake smile, "And Avalon is going to keep saying whatever she wants until her Fairy Tale Man decides to tell her the truth," she spat the last word with such attitude that even Idris winced for the Doctor.

"You know I bet the reason you don't know his big ole secret is because maybe you're special to him," Idris shrugged casually, smirking at the reactions of the Doctor.

"Yeah, or..." Avalon walked away from the Doctor with her hands on her hips, "...and I'm pretty sure this is the winning theory," she turned to face the man, now standing across him in the room, "The truth is he just doesn't trust me like he trusts everyone else."

"That is not true," the Doctor began to argue back, offended she'd think that despite all their time traveling together.

"Then prove it!" Avalon snapped, storming right up to him, "What did you do?" she demanded when they were face to face, nearly nose to nose in reality.

Idris sadly watched as the Doctor once again had that internal struggle to speak the words he had used with the others. Avalon just had no idea of the reason why she precisely was being kept away from the truth. It was actually rather sweet, (if you knew the reason, though). Idris could understand where Avalon was coming from based on her point of view.

"That's what I thought," Avalon sighed and stepped back from the Doctor.

"Ava, it's complicated," he began, but she shook her head and turned to face Idris.

"I tell you everything and this is what I get from you. I'm honestly disappointed, fairy-tale man," she moved up to the cell door of Idris's, unable to see the hurt etched onto the Doctor's face.

"What are you doing?" Idris questioned as Avalon took out a pin from her hair and stuck it into the lock.

"Avalon, we should wait..." the Doctor tried to stop her.

"No, you know she's the only one who can give you some answers. Therefore, we have to get her out."

"But we don't even know who she is!"

"Oi, how do you not know me?" Idris frowned, "Just because they put me in here?"

"They said you were dangerous," the Doctor soared her a glance as he tried backing Avalon away from the door.

"Not the cage, stupid. In here," Idris put her hands on her face, "They put me in here. I'm the..." she paused, "Oh, what do you call me? We travel. I go..."

At the sounds of the TARDIS wheezing, both Avalon and the Doctor froze and looked up at the woman inside the cell.

"The TARDIS?" the Doctor tilted his head.

Idris nodded joyfully, "Time and relative dimension in space. Yes, that's it. Names are funny. It's me! I'm the TARDIS."

"No way..." Avalon breathed and immediately looked up at the Doctor, "What are you going to do now?"

"No!" he exclaimed at her, still unable to believe such a thing. He stared at Idris and shook his head, "You're not! You're a bitey, mad lady. The TARDIS is up and downy stuff in a big blue box."

"What the hell does 'up and downy stuff' even mean?" Avalon made a face.

"Shut up!" she received his hand over her mouth, "You're not..." he looked at Idris up and down repeatedly, "...big, blue box?"

"Yes, that's me," Idris assured in amusement as she stared at the pair, "A type 40 TARDIS. I was already a museum piece, when you were young, and the first time you touched my console you said..."

"I said you were the most beautiful thing I had ever known," the Doctor remembered with a small smile, of course that all ended when Avalon bit into his palm with all her might, "OW!"

"When will you learn that, that will never end well for you?" she crossed her arms arms and frowned, "I've bitten the policemen arresting me, you are far easier."

"You are-"

"-you better watch those words Fairy Tale Man," Avalon warned as she stepped closer to him, her eyes narrowing, "Because the territory you step on with me is very thin as it is," at that, the Doctor shut his mouth and turned away, missing the wide smirk on Avalon's face. With triumph, she turned to Idris and continued to work on the lock, "So, you're the TARDIS?" Idris nodded, "As in the box that idiot over there decided to steal?"

"I borrowed her!" the Doctor argued with a violent finger pointed at Avalon.

"Borrowing implies the eventual intention to return the thing that was taken," Idris cut in before Avalon opened her mouth, "What makes you think I would ever give you back?"

"Why would you want him, though?" Avalon pointed at the Doctor, ignoring the loud huff the man gave at that. Oh yeah, she would be taking jabs. "I mean, there had to be have been smarter Time Lords..."

"Oi!" the Doctor cried.

"Much more fun Time Lords too..." Avalon continued, her smirk widening.

"Oi!"

"And you know, one that didn't dress like an idiot," Avalon added, making Idris laugh.

Hey!" the Doctor frowned, nearly stomping his foot.

Avalon finally got the door opened and stepped away to let Idris out. She turned to the man, "Well, you've got no argument right now, I mean look at you?" she gestured to his current choice of attire.

"There is nothing wrong with my clothes," the Doctor declared.

"Ha! Newsflash, no one wears bow-ties anymore," Avalon then ruffled his hair, "And where do I even start with this hair?"

"Are you really going to start with hair?" the Doctor had had enough and was going to give a comeback of the century, "Because I've got some comments for you!" he grabbed a piece of her hair between his fingers, a bit surprised at how soft it felt. For a moment, he let her strand of hair curl around his finger, making him lose his train of thought, "…and…and…"

Avalon watched him with small confusion, though a part of her face felt warm, "…and?" she cleared her throat and got his attention back.

"…and…your clothing!" he quickly racked his mind for an excuse. He let her hair drop from his finger and stepped back, suddenly aware he'd crossed several boundaries.

Avalon instantly tugged on her skirt, even glancing at her current outfit to remember what she wore, "What about my clothes?"

Idris watched in pure amusement as the two battled it out, if it could even be called a battle. Once the Doctor came around Avalon's face and saw she was genuinely worried he would say her clothes were no good, he stopped in front of her with a soft smile, "They look beautiful on you," he remarked.

Avalon blinked in surprise, "Oh...really?"

"Of course," the Doctor nodded, happy to see her looking better in less than a second, "You'll look amazing for your party."

Avalon knew she was blushing and thanked it was pretty dark around to hide it, "I get to go, then?"

"Yeah," he smiled.

"Uh, no," Idris raised a finger and moved over to them, almost more like stalked towards them. "She does not get to go."

"Oh c'mon," Avalon threw her hands in the air, groaning in frustration. "Not you too! Now I have to deal with a talking TARDIS matrix!" she crossed her arms and mockingly glared at Idris, "Why are you here again? No offence but..."

"House eats TARDISes," Idris shrugged, "And you're still not going," she added, making Avalon frown and huff.

"House what? What do you mean?" the Doctor was stuck on those important words.

"I don't know. It's something I heard you say," Idris pointed at him.

"When?"

"In the future," Idris moved towards Avalon, wagging a finger at her, "And no means no."

"House eats Tardises?" the Doctor repeated, confused, and confirmed Idris's prediction.

"Why can't I go?" Avalon frowned.

"There you go," Idris gestured to both of them, "What are fish fingers?"

"When do I say that?" the Doctor wondered, knowing or course it would be him to say that.

"Any second," Idris warned.

"Why does everyone tell me 'no'?" Avalon demanded.

"Of course! House feeds on rift energy and TARDISes are bursting with it. And not raw. All lovely and cooked, processed food… Mmm, fish fingers."

"Oh c'mon, you can't possibly be thinking of food right now when some asteroid thing is going to eat your TARDIS!"

"But you can't eat a TARDIS, it would destroy you," the Doctor countered but froze when he realized, "Unless, unless..."

"Unless you deleted the TARDIS matrix first," Idris pointed at herself.

"Hence why you're in there," Avalon pointed at her, receiving a nod of confirmation.

"But House just can't delete a TARDIS' consciousness, that would blow a hole in the universe," Idris said before the Doctor could even open his mouth, "He pulls out the matrix, sticks it in a living receptacle and feeds off the remaining Artron energy," she then glanced back at the Doctor with a smirk, "You were about to say all that. I don't suppose you have to now."

"Wait..." Avalon hurried for the exit, "...Amy and Rory are still in there..."

The Doctor realized as well and hurried with her, "They'll be eaten," he took out Amy's phone and ran with Avalon towards the TARDIS, "Amy! Amy! Rory, get the hell out of there!"

"Doctor, something's wrong," Amy was sounded concerned.

"It's House. He's after the TARDIS. Just get out, both of you!"

"We can't. You locked the door, remember?"

"But I've unlocked it," the Doctor checked his screwdriver in case.

"You stupid well haven't! Doctor, I don't like this!"

"That makes two of us," Avalon muttered as they finally reached the TARDIS, "Why'd you lock it in the first place!?" she smacked the Doctor's arm, ignoring the yelp he gave immediately for it, "Oh, that's right, to keep me away from you so I wouldn't force you to tell me your secret!" and then she smacked him again, "How'd that plan turn out, genius?" before she was able to smack him again, he hurried up to the TARDIS and used the sonic on the doors, "Yes, because the sonic worked the first time around-"

"SHUT UP!" the Doctor surprised her with the shouted order, "Just shut up and stay quiet for a minute!"

Avalon blinked, "You don't-"

"-no, be quiet!" the Doctor wouldn't let her finish, "For once, don't shout, don't move, just stay still and silent! Have you got that?" Almost meekly, Avalon looked down. The Doctor didn't take notice as he'd turned for the TARDIS again, "Open!" he snapped his fingers in hopes of getting the doors open. Of course, that also failed, "Amy! Rory!" he went back to pounding on the doors, only to hear the sounds of the de-materializing starting up and so had to step back as the box disappeared right before his eyes. He picked up the cellphone again and put it on his ear, "Amy? Amy, can you hear me?" but he received no answer. He put the phone away and sighed, "OK. Right. I don't... I really don't know what to do," then he had to smile a little because of its rarity, "That's a new feeling," he turned to Avalon.

The face she had was one of pure death. She'd gotten over her initial reaction and now was furious. Without a word, she slapped him across the face and growled in fury as she stalked off back to the tunnels, quickly or else she'd end up slapping him over and over and over.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor followed after Avalon in silence, irritated himself with her. They'd went back for Idris but didn't find her at her cell anymore and so went on a search, finally finding the woman/TARDIS back in the cavern room with Auntie and Uncle.

"The box is gone," Avalon declared as soon as they found her.

"Eaten?" Idris glanced at her, eyeing the very clear distance put between her and the Doctor.

"No, it left. Not eaten, hi-jacked," the Doctor sighed, "But why?"

"It's time for us both to go, and keep together," Auntie stood up from her spot and started to walk off.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Avalon went after her, "You can't just leave!"

"Well, we're dying, my love. It's time for Auntie and Uncle to pop off."

"I'm against it," Uncle input with a resigned tone.

"It's your fault, isn't it sweets?" Auntie looked past Avalon to the Doctor.

Avalon scoffed, "Who could've guessed that one?" she crossed her arms and turned to the man.

"First of all, be quiet," the Doctor pointed at her, "You're angry and your temper is rising-"

"Good, you'll finally see what happens when it reaches all the way up here," Avalon raised her hand as high as possible, "Can't wait to find out myself. But you know what I'd really like right now? To know exactly how you messed this one up," she glanced back at Auntie with a sweet smile, "How exactly did he do that?"

"He told House it was the last TARDIS. House can't feed on them if there's none more coming, can he?"

"Hear that..." Avalon glared at the Doctor, "Now because of you, my best friend and his wife are stuck in a box controlled by 'House' while we're stuck on some stupid planet outside the universe!"

The sound of Auntie falling to the ground ended the argument. The Doctor hurried to the woman while Uncle stood up, "Actually, I feel fine," though he did not and fell beside Auntie.

"Not dead. You can't just die!" the Doctor shouted in frustration at the pair, both they were long dead now.

Idris ignored the panic and stood up, "We need to go to where I landed, Doctor. Quickly."

"Why?" Avalon asked, curiously.

"Because we are there in three minutes. We need to go now!" Idris started to run but felt a jab on her stomach and yelped in pain, "Ow! Roughly, how long do these bodies last?"

The Doctor tool the sonic out and scanned her while Avalon helped sustain her, "You're dying," he realized.

"Yes, of course I'm dying," Idris didn't seem too surprised as she snatched the sonic from him, handing it over to Avalon who in awe immediately took it, "I don't belong in a flesh body. I could blow the casing in no time.'

Avalon took a step back, "That would've been good information earlier," she wearily stared at the woman/box, "But, uh, anyways, what are we going to do?" she looked led at Idris and the Doctor with an expectant expression.

"Oh I thought you were mad at me," the Doctor smirked.

"I am, but I'm no idiot," she wiped the smirk off his face, "You and her are the only ones with the knowledge to get me back to my world. So get to focusing and get me out of here!"

"On what? How? I'm a madman with a box, without a box!" he tried to snatch the screwdriver from her, "I'm stuck down the plughole at the end of the universe on a stupid old junkyard! Oh."

Avalon knew that look he had on his face, it meant there was a plan brewing, "What is it?" she put her hands behind her back along with his sonic.

"No, I'm not," he mumbled to him in thought.

"Not what?" even Idris was curious to know what he was thinking of.

"Cos it's not a junkyard. Don't you see? It's not a junkyard!"

"And he lost his eyesight too, what a shame," Avalon mocked-sighed as she moved around.

"You, calm down," Idris pointed at her and glanced at the Doctor, "What is it, then?"

"It's a TARDIS junkyard!" the Doctor exclaimed, still trying to get his sonic from the ginger to no avail, "Come on! Ooh, sorry," he stopped his attempts and looked at Idris, "Do you have a name?"

"700 years, finally he asks," Idris shook her head, Avalon smiling at the sarcasm the woman displayed.

"But what do I call you?"

"I think you call me... Sexy," Idris put her hands on her hips.

The Doctor's eyes widened, startled she'd just released private information, "Only when we're alone!"

"You can have this back," Avalon chucked him his sonic, the man scrambling to catch it, "Because that is gold compared to a stupid sonic screwdriver," she laughed as she headed for the exit.

"Look what you did," the Doctor muttered at Idris who was smirking, "She won't be letting that go, ever!"

"Well at least she won't be angry with you anymore," Idris pointed out as she crossed her arms, "Because we both know how her temper is," she laughed suddenly, "Even as a newborn she was quite the arguer!"

Knowing Avalon was gone, the turned to Idris completely serious, "You knew her as a baby?"

"Of course!" Idris waved him off and moved for the exit, "You brought her in when she was just a little baby," she mimicked the rocking of a baby.

"I brought her in..." the Doctor repeated in confusion. There were so many things that didn't make sense about Avalon and now he had this piece of information? He frowned. "Who sent her that letter?" he asked quietly. "You're the TARDIS therefore you must know who gave Avalon the letter that warns her she's in danger? Who sent it?"

Idris' face softened, giving the impression that she did know something. "What the letter says is true. She's in danger but you can keep her safe. It's what you've been doing right?"

"You're not answering the question!"

"And you know I can't. It's all fixed points."

"Suddenly I think she should be mad with me," the Doctor muttered and went after Avalon. Each time he tried to get some answers, all he got instead were reminders that he would play a part in whatever was coming for her.

Idris watched after him with a grim face, neither knew what was to come, nor what had already come. What's worse what she had to keep quiet or it could bring, terrible, terrible, consequences.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor had an impossible idea to recreate a console with the different remnants of TARDISES around. And even though Avalon was still crossed with him, she handed back the screwdriver for him to use on their work ahead. She was smart, she knew, but she was no where near competent enough to build another TARDIS console from scratch. So, while he and Idris worked on that console, she stood to the side with her arms crossed as she stood staring at the two. And because she was still crossed with the Doctor, she was quite enjoying herself as she watched him struggle to pull a piece of wall with a rope.

"Bond the tube directly into the Tachyon Diverter," Idris called, eyeing Avalon with an amused smile, knowing the ginger was far more amused with the Doctor's struggle than she ought to be.

"Yes, yes, I have actually rebuilt a TARDIS before, you know. I know what I'm doing," the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"You're like a nine-year-old trying to rebuild a motorbike in his bedroom. And you never read the instructions."

"I always read the instructions!"

"Ha!" Avalon scoffed loudly, taking a seat on a pile of scraps and crossing her arms, "That's as true as saying I'm a perfect little angel."

"You're not," Idris pointed at her, "And wipe that smirk off your face, Doctor," she glanced at the alien in time to see him surprised she'd caught him without looking, "You know, there's a sign on my front door. You have been walking past it for 700 years. What does it say?"

"Oh, this ought to be good," Avalon smirked.

"Shut up!" the Doctor exclaimed at her then looked at Idris with a frown, "That's not instructions!"

"There's an instruction at the bottom. What does it say?" Idris asked, expecting some type of defer from the answer.

"Oh, I know!" Avalon raised her hand, knowing it would stick it to the Doctor right in the ego, "Pull to open!" she clapped her hands and smirked at the Doctor, "And I know exactly what he does."

"Be quiet," he snapped, although the ginger didn't seem to mind she was only infuriating him more.

"You push the doors open," she continued with an even wider smirk.

"Every single time. 700 years," Idris had to join in, although she didn't do it to irritate the Doctor more, "Police Box doors open out the way."

The Doctor threw down the rope in anger and stalked towards the two, "I think I've earned the right to open my front doors any way I want!"

"Wow, that was a great comeback," Avalon patted his arm and moved around him, "Told you, Idris, you should've gotten a better Time Lord pilot."

"That is it!" the Doctor whirled around and went after her, "I am sick of your sarcastic little snaps just because I don't want to tell you something! Frankly, GET OVER IT!"

Deep anger set across Avalon's face as she turned to face him. "Yeah, get over the fact that the one person I look up to doesn't trust me like I trust him." And somehow, that anger faltered the more she thought about it. "Sure," she turned away from him.

The Doctor realized that was not the way he wanted to talk to her but after so much time taking her insults and remarks...he exploded. He never wanted to do that, ever, but everyone had their breaking point. He reached to touch her arm and turn her to him but he couldn't find the courage to do so. He took his trembling hand away and turned from her, avoiding the stare of Idris as well. Without knowing, Avalon had walked several steps away from him and Idris as her tears grew harder to keep inside.

~ 0 ~

With the makeshift console having three walls set up and its console nearly finished, Idris took chance to try and get Avalon to rejoin her and the Doctor. The ginger had stayed away for quite some minutes since her last 'conversation' with the Doctor. Idris was trying to remain impartial to both sides, seeing faults in both of them as well as some good points for each, but really disliked it when Avalon was upset. That was why she always made sure she led Avalon straight to the Doctor when she was in need of help. Who else than him, right?

"Hey..." Idris felt nervous to initiate conversations, probably due to the fact she never had a conversation with anyone with actual words coming from her mouth. She didn't even have a mouth! She knelt down beside Avalon, the ginger with her arms crossed and gaze on the floor, her eyes visibly red from the quiet tears that had been flowing down her face.

"I don't need a pity talk," Avalon spoke quietly, not even looking at Idris, "Leave me alone."

Idris stared at the woman for a couple minutes before speaking up again. "A little fairy comes at night, her eyes are blue, her hair is brown..." As Idris started reciting the poem, Avalon's eyes flickered to the woman in shock. "...with silver spots upon her wings, and from the moon she flutters down..."

"I've heard that before..." Avalon said quietly and quickly tried remembering where on Earth she'd heard those lines. "That's a poem. I know it's a poem but I just..."

"The Dream Fairy," Idris gave her the name of the poem. "I thought you'd remember some of it."

"But where did I hear that from?" Avalon remained puzzled even after ransacking her mind for the stupid poem.

"It'll come to you later," Idris dismissed it and moved onto the more pressing matter. "You and the Doctor...this argument cannot continue."

Avalon rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd take his side. You don't trust me either."

"No, no, it's not that, and stop saying that!" Idris scolded.

"I don't get it," Avalon continued sadly, "He's told Amy, Rory, he's even told Lena! Heck, I bet even River Song knows about this than me. Everyone knows but me, why?" she looked at Idris, "Everyone says it's not because he doesn't trust me...what's the reason then?"

It broke Idris's heart to see Avalon like that. Idris knew the Doctor meant well, she understood his reasons, but it was beginning to cause a wedge in his relation with her. That was something Idris would never permit, not as long as she was around. She looked over to the Doctor, knowing very well he'd been eavesdropping as usual, and gave him a stern look. Upon realizing what she was going to do he dropped what he was doing and violently shook his head and hands, eyes wide as could be.

"Do you know why he's afraid to tell you?" she began questioning Avalon.

"Afraid?" Avalon repeated in confusion.

"Mhm," Idris nodded her head, discreetly glancing at the Doctor to see him still shaking his head at her, "You have such a wonderful image of him, adorable one too," she winked and Avalon blushed.

"Privacy means nothing to you people," Avalon mumbled, eyeing Idris, "Or boxes."

Idris chuckled, "Honey, I'm a box, I see everything whether I want to or not," she shrugged, "And that includes writing," she tapped Avalon's nose, "Sorry about that. But because I see everything, I know how you look at him and how much he wants to keep it like that," Avalon raised her eyebrows in confusion. Idris glanced at the Doctor one more time to let him know she was going through with it, much to his horror, "The reason he won't tell you that big secret is because he doesn't want to lose the image you have of him."

"But...but I don't...I don't understand," Avalon shook her head and looked back to the Doctor but saw him already coming towards them, as well as throwing a glare at Idris for some reason.

"What do you call him?" Idris urgently asked her, seeing their time was about to end.

"What?" Avalon was too distracted to focus on the question.

"The Doctor, what do you call him all the time? C'mon Ava," Idris tugged on the gingers sleeve.

"Leave it alone," the Doctor snapped at her as he neared them.

"No, I will not," Idris snapped right back, "I love both of you and I will not dismiss this opportunity where I can actually talk to help both of you. Avalon," she looked at the ginger again, "Please, what do you call him, eh? That name you gave him when you were just seven years old."

"Fairy-tale man," Avalon answered slowly, still in confusion.

"And that is exactly what he doesn't want to lose," Idris smiled sadly, "That image you have of him since you were seven."

Avalon stood up and faced the Doctor, slightly less confused, "Is that true?"

"Well..." the Doctor shifted on his feet, unable to look her in the eyes.

Avalon didn't need him to actually say the answer, she could see it clearly from his nervousness and stance, "What can be that bad that you would think that?" but she received no answer from him nor Idris, "Is it...is it really that bad?" she asked in a whisper.

"Honestly, Ava, yes," the Doctor reached for her hands and tugged her closer, "It's awful, the worst thing you will hear about me, and I'm...I'm scared of what you'll think of me afterwards."

"But you told everyone else," Avalon quietly reminded, "You weren't afraid with them?"

"Of course I was..."

"Then?"

"I don't know, Ava, I just...I want you to keep seeing me as that fairy-tale man you always call me. The one that always comes and rescues people in need, one that you're not afraid of..."

"I could never be afraid of you, silly," Avalon smiled, touched he had that much care for some nickname she appropriated on him as a child.

"You might be after you know."

"Was Lena afraid of you after you told her?"

"Well, no..."

"Then?"

"Really, Ava, I don't know why it's so hard with you..." the Doctor sighed, missing the sharp look Idris threw at him.

He really is an idiot, she thought. Even Avalon was being slow on it! Oh, as soon as she was back where she belonged she would take it upon herself to push them together. It had been amusing at first to watch them but it'd grown a bit agitating once the blushing and cute little comments got old...like right now.

"Well I don't know if this'll make a difference or not but it really hurts me to know that everyone else knows your secret except for me," Avalon took her hands back with a sigh, "Makes me feel like an outcast."

"No, Avalon, that's not..." the Doctor tried to mend the issue but Avalon forced a small smile as she moved away from him, "...it's not like that," he sighed and gave up.

"Well good going, genius," Idris set her hands on her hips as she moved up to him.

"Why would you tell her that!?" he demanded from her with irritation, "That was something she didn't need to know!".

"Better question would be why haven't you told her that?" she countered then laughed, "You mean well, but you have to understand that you're hurting her and that's the last thing you want, right?"

"Of course, it's just hard, no one gets it..." the Doctor huffed and looked away.

"Not even you," Idris rolled her eyes at his obliviousness, "Idiot," she muttered.

After a couple more minutes, the makeshift console had finally been completed. The trio stood a couple feet away from it while they studied it.

"So...that is supposed to get us back to the TARDIS?" Avalon asked after a good moment of silence.

"It's perfect!" the Doctor exclaimed, "What could possibly go wrong?"

Avalon watched as one small piece fell off the console. "That," she pointed at it.

"That's fine, that always happens," the Doctor waved it off, looking away with a face, "No! Hang on! Wait!" he ran off with the women watching after him. He returned holding a bright, red rope with him.

"Why?" Idris sighed in resignation, never used to the deranged ideas her thief always had.

"You know...for princesses...and stuff," he eyed Avalon with a smile, hoping she'd be less angry now since she was accepting to be this close to him and Idris.

"VIP," Avalon gave a light chuckle, making him beam.

Idris discreetly smirked as she moved up to the console, leaving them to follow. The Doctor led Avalon up to the console and secured the ropes around and latched them to the console.

"Right. OK, let's go," the Doctor made sure they were all set to go, "Follow that TARDIS!" he flicked a couple switches to the console but unfortunately they weren't going anywhere.

"What's happened?" Avalon frowned, seeing the complete fail of the console.

"It can't hold the charge. I can't even start it," the Doctor tried a couple more switches to no avail, "There's no power! I've got nothing!"

"Oh, my beautiful idiot," Idris rolled her eyes, "You have what you've always had - you've got me," she kissed her finger and made it glow with energy as she placed it on the central column. Avalon watched in pure awe as the energy circled them with a field and set them to dematerialize.

First thing they did when they were off was to send a message to Amy and Rory, thankfully Idris was able to do so with the TARDIS telepathy circuits. They were left directions to head back to the old control room where they would lower the shields of the box. They could guess that the humans were in a bit of a pickle with House controlling the TARDIS and so hoped they would get there soon.

Amy and Rory had to do a guessing trick to avoid being hit by the nearing makeshift console. Thankfully, the trio appeared on the other side of the console room, on the floor.

"Doctor!" Amy sighed of relief as the man stood up.

"Rory!" Avalon jumped to her feet and rushed to hug him, really glad to see him again. She felt Idris stand slowly with a hand on her hip, "Not good. Not good at all," she took a breath and thanked the Doctor who returned to help her, "How do you walk around in these things?"

"With our legs," Avalon pointed to her feet, earning a mock-glare from Idris, "Just saying," she raised her hands in defeat.

"What's going on?" Rory eyed Idris with reluctance, not too keen to have his best friend near a crazy woman.

"Rory, Amy, this is..." the Doctor couldn't even find the right introduction, "Well, she's my TARDIS. Except she's a woman. She's a woman, and she's my TARDIS."

Amy's jaw fell open, "She's the TARDIS?!"

"And she's a woman. She's a woman and she's the TARDIS."

"He wished that hard," Avalon smirked, making Amy laugh.

"Shut up!" the Doctor frowned and quickly looked at Amy for clarification, "Not like that."

"Wait for it, it gets better," Avalon bit her lip as she turned to Idris, "What's your name?"

"Sexy," Idris smirked.

"Oh," Rory looked between the two laughing gingers.

"I hate you!" the Doctor declared for Avalon, though part of him was slightly glad she was making her usual mock-insulting comments because it meant that she wasn't that angry with him anymore.

"The environment has been breached. Nephew, kill them all," House's voice rang through the room, reminding everyone there was still a bad guy to defeat.

"Where's Nephew?" Rory looked around for the missing Ood.

"He was standing right where you materialized," Amy pointed at the Doctor and Idris.

"Ah, well," the Doctor made a face, "He must have been redistributed."

Avalon caught his little face and sighed, "...and that means...?"

"You're breathing him."

All three companions covered their noses like a pack of dominoes, making the Doctor smile in amusement.

"Doctor, I did not expect you," House said.

"Well, that's me all over, isn't it?" he looked around, "Lovely old unexpected me."

"The big question is, now you're here, how to dispose of you? I could play with gravity..." House made the entire group fall down with the gravity and after a moment released them, though Idris couldn't stand up anymore and collapsed a second time. Avalon and Rory went to help her while House continued playing his tricks, "Or I could evacuate the air from this room and watch you choke," he then took out the air from the room, making everyone choke for air.

"You really don't want to do that!" the Doctor shouted.

House returned the air, "Why shouldn't I just kill you now?"

"Because then I won't be able to help you! Listen to your engines. Just listen to them. You don't have the thrust and you know it. I'm your only hope for getting out of your little bubble, through the rift, and into my universe. And mine's the one with the food in! You just have to promise not to kill us. That's all, just promise."

Idris took Avalon's arm and used it to tug her down where she whispered something to the ginger. For a moment, Avalon seemed confused at the words she was hearing, but after a moment it seemed to dawn on her...

"You can't be serious," Amy was scolding the Doctor for his lack of intelligence at the moment. House would kill them the moment they were back in the universe.

"I'm very serious. I'm sure it's an entity of its word," the Doctor calmly said and looked back at Idris, walking back to her as he saw her health quickly deteriorating, "Hey. Hang in there, old girl. Not long now. It'll be over soon."

Idris smiled, "I always liked it when you call me... old girl."

"You want me to give my word? Easy. I promise," House assured, though everyone knew that was a vile lie.

"Fine. OK. I trust you," the Doctor stood up, "Just delete, ooh, 30% of the TARDIS rooms, you'll free up thrust enough to make it through. Activate sub-routine Sigma-9."

"Why would you tell me this?"

"Because we want to get back to our universe as badly as you do. And I'm nice."

"And I really hope an idiot with a plan," Avalon mumbled to Rory who quickly agreed.

"Ye-e-s. I can delete rooms, and I can also rid myself of vermin if I delete this room first. Thank you, Doctor, very helpful. Goodbye, Time Lord. Goodbye, little humans. Goodbye, Idris."

A flash of light engulfed the room and left the group back in the current console room. The Doctor strode around the place with a small smirk, "Yes. I mean you could do that, but it just won't work. Hardwired fail-safe. Living things from rooms that are deleted are automatically deposited in the main control room. But thanks for the lift!" he looked back at the others, seeing Avalon and Rory standing but remaining by Idris's side while Amy stood up not too far away from them.

"We are in your Universe now, Doctor. Why should it matter to me in which room you die?" House seemed less than concerned, "I can kill you just as easily here as anywhere. Fear me. I've killed hundreds of Time Lords."

The Doctor had a good comeback that would silence that stupid entity right at the moment...there was just one thing getting in the way, one person. But that didn't matter anymore, Idris was right...in a long run his good intentions were hurting her. "Fear me," he swallowed hard, "I've killed all of them," he slowly glanced over his shoulder to Avalon.

Her eyes were wide after hearing those powerful words, almost matching her horror. She looked over to Amy for confirmation, the other ginger nodded her head silently.

"I don't understand, there isn't a forest in here," Rory's voice broke through the silence in the room.

"Yeah, you're right. You've completely won," the Doctor recomposed himself for House, "Oh, you can kill us in oodles of really inventive ways, but before you do kill us allow me and friends, Avalon, Amy and Rory to congratulate you on being an absolutely worthy opponent," he clapped his hands and grabbed Amy by the arm, forcing her to clap along with him.

"Congratulations!" Amy said awkwardly, still clapping even though knowing no reason why she was clapping in the first place.

"Yep, you've defeated us, me and my lovely friends here at last but definitely not least the TARDIS Matrix herself, a living consciousness you ripped out of this very control room and locked up into a human body and look at her!"

"Doctor, she's stopped breathing," Rory looked up from Idris.

"Enough!" ordered House, "That is enough."

"No. It's never enough. You forced the TARDIS into a body so she'd burn out safely a very long way away from this control room. A flesh body can't hold the TARDIS Matrix and live. Look at her body, House," the Doctor turned to look at Idris.

"And you think I should mourn her?"

"No. I think you should be very, very careful about what you let back into this control room," the Doctor watched the energy flow from Idris' mouth, "You took her from her home. But now she's back in the box again and she's free!" the energy streamed throughout the room, altering the green light of House back to the common gold.

"No! Doctor, stop this!" House was crying out in pain, "OW! Stop this now!"

"Oh, look at my girl, look at her go!" the Doctor cheered, "Bigger on the inside! You see, House?"

"Make it stop!"

"That's your problem. Size of a planet, but inside you're just so small!"

"Make it stop!"

"Finish him off, girl," the Doctor ordered, rather darkly.

For a couple more seconds the group continued to hear the cries of House. The room slowly turned back to its usual golden color, leaving them an eerie silence. The Doctor turned for Avalon, the ginger immediately taking a step back, too jumbled up to be able to have a decent conversation.

"Doctor? Are you there?" his attempt to get to the ginger was cut off by the Idris's call. He turned to see a glowing projection of her in front of the console, "It's so very dark in here."

"I'm here..." he softly said.

"I've been looking for a word. A big, complicated word, but so sad. I've found it now."

"What word?"

"Alive," Idris smiled, "I'm alive!"

"Alive isn't sad," the Doctor said in confusion.

"It's sad when it's over. I'll always be here. But this is when we talked and now even that has come to an end. There's something I didn't get to say to you."

"Goodbye?"

"No, I just wanted to say... hello," Idris smiled sadly, even through her projection one could see her eyes were teary, "Hello, Doctor. It's so very, very nice to meet you."

"Please!" the Doctor's eyes also teared up, "I don't want you to. Please!" but he had to step back as the projection dissipated, a bright light emerging soon afterwards along with the sounds of the TARDIS.

"I love you," they were able to hear Idris's last words.

"...where...?" confused, the Doctor faced the console, also in an attempt to hide his own face.

The companions looked at each other with uncertainty of what to do next. However, Avalon was quietly mumbling words under her breath, the same ones Idris had repeated to her earlier, growing distant with the seconds.

~ 0 ~

Later on, Amy and Rory came down underneath the console where the Doctor sat on the swing fixing up the mess of wires House had left behind.

"How's it going?" Rory asked.

"Just putting a firewall around the Matrix. Almost done."

"Are you going to make her talk again?" Amy wondered as she took a seat on one of the stairs.

"Can't," the Doctor shook his head.

"Why not?" Rory curiously asked.

"Spacey-wacey, isn't it?" Amy chuckled.

"Well actually," the Doctor stopped with the wires to explain, "It's because the Time Lords discovered that if you take an eleventh-dimensional matrix and fold it into a mechanical then..." and Rory then touched two wires together, making them spark, "Yes, it's spacey-wacey!" the Doctor shooed the human off.

"Sorry. At the end, she was talking. She kept repeating something," Rory recalled the odd words of Idris, "I don't know what it meant."

The Doctor stood up, "What did she say?"

"The only water in the forest is the river. And that harmony is part of a melody. She said we'd need to know that someday. It doesn't make sense, does it?"

"Not yet."

"But she told Avalon something too," Rory remembered, "And it was different."

"Speaking of, where is she?" the Doctor looked behind the two companions in hopes of catching a glimpse of the other ginger who'd been away for some time now. Though he could imagine why she'd made no appearance...

"She's in her room," Amy shrugged, eyeing the concern of the Doctor, "Just give her some time, she'll come out when she's ready."

"Yeah, everything's going to be fine," Rory assured, "I know Ava like the back of my hand. She's just got some thinking to do, that's all. And you know what happens when she thinks..."

"She writes," both Rory and the Doctor said together.

"Which means it'll be hours before she'll come out," Amy stood up with a tired sigh, "So it's time for bed."

"The House deleted all the bedrooms. I should make you two a new bedroom," the Doctor recalled, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Rory whispered several words to Amy, "OK. Doctor, this time, could we lose the bunk beds?" she asked the Doctor, "You didn't give Avalon nor Lena one."

"First of all, when the TARDIS made Avalon a room I sort of made sure it would be a room that she loved due to the fact our beginning wasn't in good terms," the Doctor pointed at them, making both humans recall the very tensed relation he and Avalon shared during the early days, "And second of all, Lena needed a proper room for her health. I wouldn't dare mess with that."

"So you gave us the crappy rooms," Amy huffed playfully.

"No, I gave you the coolest, fun rooms! bunk beds are cool. A bed with a ladder! You can't beat that," the Doctor insisted. He received the sharp looks from them and sighed, "It's your room. Up those stairs, keep walking till you find it. Off you pop!"

"Doctor, do you have a room?" Rory inquired as Amy grabbed him and pulled him up the stairs.

The Doctor wiped off a few more spots in the wires, ignoring the question. His mind was a bit too focused on Avalon and how she was reacting to his actions. He was truly terrified of what could happen once she came out of that room. In fact, he was a bit curious to go and knock and just get her words straight in the face.

What was taking her so long!?

~ 0 ~

Avalon finished writing the last words in her journal, looking at the lines she'd written. She sat on her bed with her back to the headboard, had been for some time now. She read the words she wrote over and over, her brain too jumbled to understand them.

A little fairy comes at night,

Her eyes are blue, her hair is brown'

with silver spots upon her wings,

And from the moon she flutters down.

She has a little silver wand,

And when a good child goes to bed

She waves her wand from left to right

And makes a circle round her head

And then it dreams of pleasant things,

Of fountains filled with fairy fish,

And trees that bear dilicious fruit,

And bow their branches at a wish;

Of arbours filled with dainty scents

From lovely flowers that never fade,

Bright flies that glitter in the sun,

And glow-worms shining in the shade;

And talking birds with gifted tongues

For singing songs and telling tales,

And pretty dwarfs to show the way

Through fairy hills and fairy dales.

Avalon sighed as she once again had nothing from this poem that Idris said to her. "Where did this come from?" she looked up at the ceiling, "Why did you tell me this poem?" there was a light hum she received back, "I don't get it, I don't..." she snapped shut her journal and placed it beside her, rubbing her temples afterwards,

Avalon let everything go and stood up, taking a deep breath as she stared at the door. Suddenly, her phone went off and startled her. She went to her desk where her phone laid and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Avalon, where are you!?" Lena's voice was loud enough for Avalon to flinch again, "Ian's here and he says if you want to go to that party it's still up for grabs."

"Party, right," Avalon whispered, barely remembering she had even gotten dressed for the big ole party.

"Avalon, what's going on? You coming or not?" Lena asked, already suspecting something was wrong with her sister.

"Um, yeah, yeah," Avalon nodded slowly as she realized that perhaps a party was just what she needed. She smiled brightly as she got more into the idea, "Yeah! I'll be there in five!" she hung up and dashed out the door with the phone in hand.

She was running with a genuine smile as she thought of all the fun she was about to have, especially after the events that took place earlier in the day, "Doctor" she called and came to a skidded halt in the console room as she saw he was silently going around the console, also probably thinking of the earlier events, "Um..."

"You're out," the Doctor gasped lightly, his face lighting up at the sight of her, "You came out..." he moved to meet her but remembered she knew his secret and became nervous of what she could do.

"Yeah..." Avalon nodded slowly, "...em, I got, um..." she waved her cell phone, making the Doctor assume the worst.

"You can't go home!" he shook his head fast, "Please! I know what I did was awful and you can't see that fairy-tale man you always saw me as-"

"I'm not going home, Doctor," Avalon shook her head, scoffing at the idea.

"You're...you're not?"

"No," she crossed her arms, sadly watching him, "I'll admit it's no easy thing to assimilate...and after today..." she trailed off as he turned to the console, looking even more mortified. She felt uncomfortable and awkward seeing as how she acted all day to him over the secret. She sighed and reached for his arm with her free hand, "Can I say...I'm sorry for my behavior today?"

"You're apologizing," the Doctor blinked, really not that one. She'd done nothing wrong unlike him!

"I was out of line and I'm sorry, and since this probably won't be the last time this happens I'll apologize in advance."

He had to smile at that, "At least your sense of humor is coming back, let's me know you're not that upset."

"I'm sorry for what happened with, um..." she looked at the console with a sad smile, "...she was so eccentric and yet so...warm and kind. You did good in taking her."

"You think so?"

"Brought you to us, didn't it?" she smiled brightly, "Turned our sleepover upside down! And...I think she took a good Time Lord too," she added.

"Really?" the Doctor started to smirk seeing she was taking back all her insults.

"Yes, but-" she raised a finger, "-all my previous statements about your clothing and hair still stand," and she wiped that smirk off his face.

"Oh c'mon!"

Avalon laughed at him, "C'mon you," she gestured, "It's the 21st century! In fact I was born in the 51st century and people still didn't wear...that," she dragged a finger up and down in the air at him.

"Well...at least your laughing again," the Doctor sighed, resigned to hear any other complain she had about his clothes.

Avalon looked at him for that, always intrigued why he let her remarks slide when no one else did. It just showed how much better of a person he was than her, "And listen...about the secret, and stuff, um..." but the way the Doctor instantly fell grim and glum made her not want to continue.

It was clear it was a private matter that still troubled him and she had no right to question about it nor dig into it. She got what she wanted in the end, to know what he had done. Suddenly, winning was no fun this time round. Today he'd lost so much and she hadn't helped one bit, the least she could do now was act like a true friend, because that's all he'd been doing to her ever since they met.

She ended up hugging him, much to his surprise. She could never come up with the right words for what he had to have gone through in hat war, so a hug would have to suffice. The Doctor of course wasn't expecting it, but he wasn't going to reject it either. He knew it was her way of saying things were okay, how could he not hug back?

The sound of her phone vibrating startled Avalon into pulling away. She looked at the lock screen and read the message, from Lena, telling her to hurry up or Ian would drop the party offer.

"Is that for your party?" the Doctor pointed, remembering such plan, unable to help the disappointed tinge in his tone. He didn't like the idea of her going off with some guy to a party where anything could happen, because bad things could happen, and he didn't want Avalon to be hurt. That was it.

"Um...yeah," Avalon looked up at him, registering his expression, "My party got cancelled," she spoke slowly and bit her lip, "Ian realized I was too much of a troublemaker and didn't want to take a risk on me. Oh well," she glanced down at her phone for a moment as she replayed what she'd just said.

Why had she just said that!? She'd been looking forward to this party for years! It was all she could talk about with Ian every time they saw each other. As soon as she turned twenty one she'd hit those clubs! Why had she just done that?

"Really?" the Doctor immediately asked, a small smile escaping through his lips, "Canceled..."

Avalon saw his brighten up face and nodded, throwing away all those thoughts she had in her mind. It was definitely worth it, "Mhm, oh well. Um, maybe you want to do something?" she asked, eyeing the console, "Maybe get your mind off this day?"

"Y-yeah, that sounds...that sounds really great, actually," the Doctor nodded, his smile widening.

"In fact, I already got an idea!"

"What is it?"

"How do you feel about a fencing match?" Avalon raised an eyebrow a tint of a smirk already playing on her lips, "And we can make it interesting, of course."

"Fencing?" the Doctor said with reluctance.

"I'm sure the TARDIS wouldn't mind creating a fencing room for us, wouldn't you dear?" she called to the box and received several hums back, making her laugh, "I think it's done! So how bout it, then, hm?" she stepped closer to him, "I challenge you."

"I don't know, Ava..."

"C'mon, are you afraid I'll beat you?"

"I've had my shares of fencing practices," the Doctor informed her, "It'd be cheating if I accepted."

"Sort of what happened with my playing cards," she raised her arm where his old watch was still strapped to her wrist, "And that's how you lost this," she tapped the glass of his watch.

"You cheated!"

Avalon laughed again, "Then here's your opportunity to win it back. Wanna hear my wager?" the Doctor sighed but nodded for her to go on, "Okay, if I win, I get to keep your watch and..." her eyes drifted to the console, the Doctor following her gaze with dread, "You have to teach me how to drive this box."

"Oh, Ava..."

Avalon clapped her hands together, already so excited for the match, "What's yours?"

The Doctor hace her a sharp look, not too keen on letting her have that wager...until something else hit him, something he'd always been curious to know about, "If I win..." he began and smiled as Avalon beamed that he'd accepted, "...I get that back, first of all," he pointed at his watch, "And..." and he started smirking, "...you have to tell me about those stories you wrote about me I always hear about."

Avalon's eyes widened, making his smirk widened, "But then you'd know..." she whispered, going pale just at the thought.

"Know what?"

"You can't-" she began to protest but received a hand to stop her.

"Those are the wages, deal?"

She made a face at him but ended up shaking his hand, the only good thing being that he was looking more happy, "Deal," she said to him.

"Excellent!"

"Let me just make a call first..." Avalon waved her phone and backed away. She loved the look of excitement on his face and so hurried to the corridors to make that call and get back to him. She quickly dialed Lena back and awaited for the line to be picked up, "Lena!"

"Avalon, where are you? Ian's getting impatient!" Lena exclaimed.

"Lena, listen," Avalon calmed her sister down and spoke in a hushed tone in case the Doctor was eavesdropping again, "Tell Ian thank you but I'm gonna pass on the party."

"What!? But that's like your number one thing on that bucket list you made!" Lena gasped, "What happened?"

"Something important came up," Avalon honestly said, smiling at what awaited for her back in the console room, "Tell Ian I said thanks but no thanks. Bye!" she hung up and tossed her phone back, knowing the I would eventually get it back to her bedroom. She hurried back to the console with a bright smile on her face, "All done," she informed with a light shrug, "You ready, then?" she then noticed the odd look on his face and became worried he'd thought about Idris again, "Doctor?" she cautiously walked up to him.

"I was thinking...maybe we could go somewhere first," he said quietly and turned to her, "I want to talk about that, um, 'secret' with you."

Avalon raised her eyebrows, unsure how to go about that delicate topic, "You don't have to...I mean, I got what I wanted. I know the secret. You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I need to," the Doctor nodded, taking a deep breath as he reached for her hand, "You have, or had, this fake image of me and I want you to know who you travel with."

"I know who I travel with," Avalon gave a small smile, "My fairy-tale man."

"Last time I checked, fairy tales didn't include the slaughter of an entire planet," the Doctor muttered.

Avalon could see this was important to him, just as much as it had been for her when she demanded to know what the secret was, "Okay, let's talk, then," she gestured to the stairs where they could sit together and have that conversation. "But I have to warn you that it's not going to change how I see you."

"Not here," the Doctor shook his head, "I was thinking we could go out somewhere. Um, have some dinner maybe?"

Avalon blinked with surprise...and with a small blush on her face. If she didn't know any better, that sounded like a...date. And if it was, why was she blushing? It didn't mean it was going to be some romantic ole date, it could very well (and probably) be a friend date, seeing as they would be conversing over something serious.

"Avalon?" the Doctor nervously called her name, wondering if he'd finally scared her off. He needed to sit down and talk to her, tell her exactly what happened and how he came to make that awful decision. And besides, she looked so lovely and pretty the way she was dressed that he couldn't fathom the idea of not taking her out.

Had he just thought that!?

Startled, the Doctor turned to the console and made sure to not look at her, he was sure his face was red as a tomato.

"Dinner, then," Avalon was coming around the idea, "Yeah, alright. I could do dinner," she nodded.

"Yes?" suddenly the Doctor forgot about his blush as he turned for Avalon in excitement.

"Yeah," she nodded again.

"Well then," the Doctor took her hand and led her around the console as he set the controls for their new destination, "Off we go, right?"

She gripped his hand and smiled, "Yes, my Fairy Tale Man."

The Doctor felt his hearts swell at the name she still used so kindly and softly on him. He hoped it would remain like this once he told her everything of his past. This was his Ava, after all.

Author's Note:

Getting to some good parts here! And yes, I know Avalon was a little over-the-top here but put yourself in her shoes: she's the only one who didn't know this big secret! I'd be pissed too! xD

#ocappreciation #doctor who fics #11th doctor fics #doctor who #11th doctor #11th doctor imagines #dw imagine #oc: Avalon Reynolds #oc: Lena Reynolds #fic: falling in temptation

14 notes · View notes