#i'm forever chasing the high of playing it for the first time
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i hope my future partner is feeling midkey stressed right now because i am sitting here, thinking i am going to make you play outer wilds while i watch and there is nothing you can do about it very loudly in their general direction
#whoever you are. i hope you like outer space and aren't scared of giant angler fish or being crushed to death by sand#and existential crises#i'm forever chasing the high of playing it for the first time#but like 97% of streamers are... very fucking annoying#so instead i will chain my future partner to my computer like a saw trap and live laugh love
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Honey Blue
Pairing: Tsireya x Fem! Human! Reader
Summary: Once you landed in Awa'atlu with your siblings, Tsireya was immediately fascinated by you, not just because you were human and she's never seen anybody quite like you before, but it's because of the one feature that stood out from the rest of you. Your eyes.
Reader has heterochromia and could breathe Pandora's air, no longer needing an exopack.
Word count: 4.1k
Warning/s: ATWOW spoilers, violence, swearing, bullying
Note: I'm in love w Tsireya nobody touch me. Likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are appreciated! Let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in part two!
Tag-list: @laurensmabel1
GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!
The Sully family had taken you in and you were forever grateful for it.
Ever since you were a baby— with Max and Norm not having enough time since they’ve been dealing with keeping things in check, you busied yourself going to the Sully family along with Spider. You grew up alongside Kiri, Lo’ak, Spider, and Neteyam acting like your older brother.
Neytiri, funny enough, had also taken a liking to you, except for Spider. Soon after Jake noticed, and with how he often hears Norm and Max scolding you for messing with the accessories and wirings in the shack if he doesn’t allow you to go outside; a bulb lit up atop his head and he took you in.
Of course, he consulted with Neytiri first, well, it didn’t take a lot of convincing as Jake was talking to her, she could see you getting along with her own children very well.
Although Jake also bought up the equation of them also taking Spider in, but she refused with a hiss, saying how he was laced with the blood of the man she had loathed all her life, even if she had killed him already.
She watched as all of you, including Spider played with each other. Neteyam was chasing Kiri and Spider around, when she spotted how you were comforting Lo’ak, showing him that there was nothing wrong with having four fingers as a Na’vi.
Neytiri agreed to take you in.
Years had passed and all of you grew, your body changed, you grew taller, and then there was the very noticeable feature about you.
“Your eyes are so cool, (Y/N)!” Tuk praises while she plays with your hair. You tilt your head. “Do you think so? Tuk tuk?” You giggle at the nickname you give her. “Yeah! They’re like the— the, what do you call it again?” Tuk knitted her brows in thought.
“Tuk, come here, stop bothering your sister.” Neytiri calls out to her, you smile and stood up, taking Tuk to Neytiri.
“Hello, Sa’nok (mother).” You greet, leaning your head against her cheek to which Neytiri smiles and closes her eyes, nudging her cheek towards you.
“What are you doing, mom?” Tuk asked, moving to sit on Neytiri’s lap. You smile and leave the two, joining the others.
You’ve seen yourself in reflections, and you’ve noticed that your eyes had two different colors. One was hazel, almost like the color of the sun, and the other was a striking blue, as if it had taken the color straight from the oceans of Pandora itself. You’ve never really made it a big deal, but you still get conscious every time the other Na’vi stare at you for too long.
You were cut off with your thoughts as you heard Lo’ak’s voice calling to you.
“Hey (Y/N) come with us, we’re going out!”
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵
You laughed as you ran with Kiri, Lo’ak, Spider, and Tuk into the forest.
“Tuk, keep up!” Lo’ak turns to her as you all jogged. “Okay, okay!” She spoke.
“Bro why’d you bring her anyway?” Spider said while you nudged him.
“Cause she’s such a crybaby!” Lo’ak said, turning to face us.
“I’m telling, you’re not supposed to go to the battlefield- I’ll tell mom if you don’t let me come.” Lo’ak said in a high-pitched voice and exaggerated movements. You laughed as Tuk shot her tongue out at him.
“Don’t pick on her.” Kiri says.
You explored some more, seeing an RDA Samson hanging by the vines, completely overrun by nature.
“Kiri!” You called out alongside Tuk and Lo’ak, wondering where the girl could’ve gone. “We have to get back!” You spoke.
On your way back, you were all chatting about what happened and what all of you saw. You were in the middle of making fun of Spider when Lo’ak halted, hopping off the branch and crouching down on the ground. “What is it?” You asked.
“Guys we’re supposed to be home by eclipse!” Tuk reminded.
You watched as Lo’ak carefully inspected the footprint. “That’s way too big for a human…”
“Avatars?” Spider suggested. “Maybe.” Replied Lo’ak.
He began walking which prompted all of you to follow him. “What are you doing?” Kiri asked. “Shh, I’m tracking.”
“I think this is a bad idea…” You mumbled, still following your brother.
“Shh, sis. Besides we could warn father early if we knew what’s out there.” He reasoned.
“Not if we get killed, or captured, or worse—”
“We’re not going to get captured.” Lo’ak confirmed.
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵
You crouched as you watched Avatars wearing military outfits approach the old, abandoned shack.
“We were never supposed to come here…” Kiri whispers as you crouched beside her. “Lo’ak.. I think we should… Dad’s going to kill us-“
“Shh, stop.” Lo’ak hushed you, you rolled your eyes.
“Bro, we’ve got to check this out.” Lo’ak nudged Spider as they crouched closer to the site.
After a few moments, Lo’ak decided to warn Jake.
“I got eyes on some guys, they look like Avatars… but they’re in full camo and gears and ARs..”
After a few seconds, Lo’ak gulped. “… We’re in the old shack.”
“Who’s we?” You heard Jake say through the comms.
He sighs “Me, Spider, Kiri, (Y/N)… and Tuk.”
With that, Tuk moved a little closer to you and Kiri.
“Yes sir, we’re moving out.” Lo’ak whispered, waving his arms to pull back.
Now you were running away, hoping you’d get back to the village in time.
“You’re in so much trouble.” You speak. “(Y/N) not you too. Stop it.” He replied.
“It’s almost eclipse, come on!” Tuk ushered.
Then everything happened too fast.
One of the avatars in camo popped out, grabbing Tuk as she screamed.
“TUK!” You shout out, looking around you to see them circling around you. You pulled out your dagger as Spider drew his bow as Lo’ak did the same. You hissed at them, glancing around frantically to see their guns pointed straight at you.
“Put them down, put them down!” One commanded.
“Kesatyn (Put those down).” Lo’ak says.
You grunted but obeyed, throwing your dagger down. You were immediately grabbed by the hair and tugged towards someone. You whine in pain as your other siblings were grabbed.
“Kiri, (Y/N)!” Tuk pleaded. Kiri comforted her, telling her to calm down. You were about to speak as well when your hair was tugged again.
You looked around the avatars with gears, mean looking, looked like they were ready to kill with their intimidating guns.
You were held beside Kiri who you could hear praying for safety.
Sighing and closing your eyes, you also thought of a silent prayer.
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵
It seems both you and Kiri’s prayer were answered as your adopted mother, Neytiri, came to your rescue.
Now you were all running with your hands bound as shots could be heard from around you.
“Go, go!” Lo’ak said, supporting you as he gave you a push to go faster as you ran through vines and branches. Your body felt like it wanted to give up already, but you didn’t. From a distance you could hear Kiri screaming. “Spider!”
You and Lo’ak took a glance at each other, knowing that something had possibly happened to him. Your heart began to race even faster, your only human friend your age, who you also considered as a brother- something happened. You could feel it in yourself that it wasn’t good.
But you couldn’t stop. You kept running.
“Let’s go!” You hear Lo’ak shout to both you and Tuk, swinging from vines you landed on the ground, but it wasn’t far from over as new figures met you in the middle, Tuk screaming again.
You were about to attack when you realized it was the figures of your family, your father, mother, sister, and your older brother.
“Hey, hey, woah. Are you guys okay? You good?” Jake asked, meeting every pair of eyes including yours. “Are you hurt? Tuk!” Jake asked, tugging Tuk close to him to inspect her before enclosing her in a hug while Tuk sobbed.
“Are you alright?” You hear Neteyam ask both you and Lo’ak. You nod, you couldn’t really tell if you were hurt, your mind was still racing. “We’re good bro, I think.” Lo’ak said, looking at you before back at Neteyam.
You watched, hidden from them as you saw them depart with their bright flashing lights. Your heart still pounding as you faced one another as Jake approached.
“Okay we’re clear. Everyone okay?” You saw how Neytiri went to hug Tuk as she clung to her arms.
“You boys? It’s good, we’re good.” Jake says, embracing two of his sons, letting out a sigh of relief. “It’s okay.”
“Ma (Y/N), are you hurt?” Neytiri turns her attention to you, using her hand to pull you towards her, inspecting your little face with her huge hands. “I- I think I’m fine, ma.” You say. Neytiri then pulls you, Tuk, and Kiri into a big hug as she said her thanks. “Oh, Great Mother, thank you, thank you.”
You nudged closer to them, fearing that they’ll be gone at any second. Then you heard Lo’ak.
“Where’s Spider?”
Pulling away from your mother’s touch, you looked around, before looking at Kiri, seeing how her expression turned into pain. “They took him. They took him.” She said, her voice breaking as she started to sob. Your mouth went agape, going over to Kiri and hugging her, knowing how much Spider meant to you and her.
Jake stood, watching her daughters cry, holding one another for comfort. He frowns, approaching the two of you as he hugged you both. “It’s okay, hey, look at me.” Jake said, you and Kiri looking up at him with tear-stained eyes that pained Jake’s heart. “He’s gonna make it alright? He’s a tough kid.”
That made you two cry out, burying both your faces in your dad’s shoulder. “Shh, shh, he’s gonna be okay.”
You could feel Jake’s hand hold your head delicately, softly stroking. “We’re all going to be okay.”
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵
A few days had passed since that event.
You felt a little bit better, except for your sore muscles.
You were hanging out with Neteyam and Lo’ak, on your way home with your usual playful banter with one another.
“I can catch a fish faster than you bozos.” You mused, a smile on your face.
“Oh yeah, you’re like the size of that fish.” Neteyam said which sent Lo’ak laughing “Good one, bro!”
“Hey! Not fair, dickhead.” You said while Neteyam laughed at your attempt to chase him.
Finally nearing the tent, you could spot Kiri and Tuk kneeling down, seemed to be listening to something, you listened in as Neteyam and Lo’ak were still talking.
Then the three of you met Kiri’s eyes as she raised her hand up before placing the back of her hand to her mouth. ‘Be quiet’ You thought it meant.
You three looked at each other before quietly making your way beside them, kneeling down as you listened.
“You cannot ask this.” You could now hear your mother say clearly. “I cannot leave my people— I will not.”
“He’s hunting us.” Jake said, then he spoke again. “He’s targeting our family-“
“You cannot ask this!” Neytiri shouted making all of you flinch. “The children, everything they’ve ever known- the forest! This is our home!”
“What are they...”
“Shh!” You say to Lo’ak.
“They had our children. He had them under his knife.” Jake hissed. “My father gave me this bow, as he lay dying, and he said protect the people,” You could hear Neytiri’s voice break. “You’re Toruk Makto!”
“This will protect the people!” Jake answered. “Quaritch has Spider, and that kid knows everything!”
“He knows our whole operations!” At the mention of Spider’s name, all of you looked at each other again as you frowned, being reminded again that Spider was gone. Neteyam offered a hand on your shoulder as you looked up at him.
“If the people harbor us, they will die, do you understand?”
You sat back down, looking at the ground.
All of you didn’t know what was about to happen until it did.
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵
You watched as Mo’at transferred the vest of the Olo’eyktan to Tarsem. Every second you watched felt like it wasn’t happening.
Turning your head quickly once Tarsem landed his blade on Jake, you felt your mother, Neytiri’s hand on your arm. He was no longer the Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto had gone.
You watched as you left the Tree of Souls, every Omaticaya you have known looking at you with great sorrow. You were one of the few humans they had accepted, and now they were seeing you go.
Once you’ve reached the ikrans, you carried your bags with you.
“(Y/N), here, you’ll ride with me, alright?” Jake said, walking over to you and picking your bags, placing them in the pockets of his ikran’s saddle. You nod as you watched your siblings mount on theirs.
Taking a one last glance at the forest, you felt your lip quiver. You were human, you weren’t even supposed to be born in this place yet it was the place you grew up in, made friends with, found your own family when yours had gone.
“Come on, let’s go.” Jake whispers to you.
You mount his ikran, Bob. Before Jake does, shielding your body protectively as you held onto Bob’s antenna.
Then you were flying.
You didn’t know how long you were travelling for, you encountered windy places, sunny ones, and now there was a heavy rain.
You shielded yourself with the much larger coat wrapped around you, almost shivering from the cold as you held onto Bob’s antenna.
“Hey, you alright? Hold on, okay?” Jake said from behind you as you nodded, shielding your face once another huge wave hits.
Then you finally reached the vast ocean. The clear waters making you see every creature that swam underneath it. You kept your eyes peeled as you neared the village. You could already spot some of its people you passed.
Then their horn sounded.
Once the ikran’s feet landed with a thud, Jake tapped you on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Nervousness filled ever fiber of your being as Jake supported you as you landed on the sand, still covering yourself with your coat.
“On me.” Jake said, stepping up front as you stayed behind, in the middle of Neteyam and Lo’ak, where you feel protected.
You then saw two of them approaching you and your brothers, circling them.
“What is that? Is that supposed to be a tail?” One of them said, patting the other on the arm as he laughed. “No, yo look is that…” You met eye contact with the one who made fun of their tails, making the other also look at you.
“Sky people, they have bought demons here.” The other said, now making people’s head turn to you.
Neteyam protectively shields his body from you, eyeing the other two down as Lo’ak did the same.
You kept your composure, already hearing whispers amongst the crowd.
Then you saw her.
Your eyes caught on a curly headed Metkayina, who seems to also be around your age, dismount from a creature, diving in the ocean before emerging once again, walking towards the shore as she flipped her hair.
“Why did they bring one of the sky people here?” The other said. They both take a look at you as you glanced at them. “Woah, did you see her eyes-!”
“Do not! Rotxo, Ao’nung.” She spat, slapping the other on the arm to stop their teasing.
She then meets your eye.
Then you saw it, you saw bright big eyes slightly widen as her head tilted at you. ‘Great, she must think I’m a demon too…’ You thought.
But maybe she doesn’t.
You give her a small nod and an audible “Hi”, in which she returns with the same curious look on her face, yet there was now a smile as she nodded back at you in greeting.
Maybe being here isn’t going to be so bad at all.
Then the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahik came.
You knew you were fucked.
That thought came true when the Tsahik suddenly yanked your coat after inspecting the rests of your siblings and leaving an uncalled-for commentary.
As your coat was thrown, it revealed your human body to everyone, them letting out a comical gasp.
“You dare bring their kind here?! One of the sky people! A demon!” She spoke out loud, staring you down in which you wanted to just crawl into a hole and die as you felt the familiar lump in your throat as you were met with everybody’s eyes. “And this demon,” She inches her face to yours with a snarl, staring you right in the eye. “Is different, but still a demon.” You knew what she was referring to. Grabbing your arm.
“Hey, hey! Look! She’s part of our family, there’s nothing you can do about it. She’s not with the Sky People, she grew up here in Pandora, with my children.” Jake said.
“She is our daughter.” Neytiri confirmed through gritted teeth at the Tsahik.
She still stared you down, ears flicking upon hearing Neytiri. Somehow, she could sense it was true and let you go, letting your arm drop as you cradled it, her touch was surely to bruise. You were embarrassed enough already as she walked away.
Your older brother, Neteyam, kindly picked your coat back up, ridding the sand off it before wrapping it around you again, noticing the others staring at you for too long, making him glare at them before looking down to you. “You okay?”
But you didn’t look at him as your eyes came in contact again with the girl from earlier as she was frowning, seeming to offer sympathy to you. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵
Once they had granted your family uturu, you were now carrying your bags towards your own marui. You couldn’t help but still feel conscious, feeling their stare on you as the others still whispered.
You looked to the side to see a Metkayina kid approaching you with a curious look on their face, when their mother followed, stopping their child as she pulls them, looking at you with a devious glare.
Shaking your head, you moved forward.
Then you finally reached your destination.
“This is for you, your new home.” You heard the girl from earlier speak, and my god you swore her voice was the softest thing you’ve ever known. “This is great. This is nice, right?” Jake said. You inspected the inside, then you heard a thud and a sigh, making you look at your mother to see she had dropped her stuff. Yikes.
They had let you rest for the day as you were tired from the hours of flight you just had endured to get here.
Settling in, it wasn’t easy as you thought. Well, it really wasn’t, considering you were still human who had different colored eyes. It made all of the Metkayina stare at you when they just spot you outside exploring with your siblings.
This morning, you arranged your stuff as you claimed your spot inside the marui. You also had the change of clothes offered by the chief’s daughter, who’s name you learned was Tsireya. A name you think you could get used to saying. She offered them to your sisters and you, to better suit the ocean and the climate.
For now, you had decided to explore the area again with your siblings.
“Tuk, careful, you might fall!” You warn your little sibling as she jumped and jumped over the platform, making ‘boing, boing, boing’ noises with her mouth.
“Careful, Tuk.” Neteyam followed behind you. You were still wary of the place, wondering how things ran around here when your eyes scanned the areas. Still, you’ve been already half-accustomed to the half of the Awa’atlu village staring at you, some already got over it, while others gave you weird looks.
You were in mid thought when Tuk lets out an ‘Oumph’ making you perk your head up.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Then came the soft voice, holding Tuk steady. Tuk shyly giggles “Sorry!”
“Tuk.” Lo’ak called for his little sister, making Tuk turn and head towards Lo’ak. Now you were met face to face with Tsireya.
It only dawned on you how she was taller than you by a foot, you guessed, her big blue eyes looking down on you with that look of curiosity. You feel yourself shy under her gaze. “Sorry for that.” You apologize.
“No, no, it is alright, it is important for you guys to feel welcomed here.” She says to you.
Lo’ak and Neteyam could only snicker in the background as they witnessed you completely be a nervous wreck in front of the chief’s daughter, with poor Tuk not knowing what was going on. “Why are you guys laughing?”
“Yes, we- we feel welcomed.” You answer, although you sounded like you weren’t. Tsireya caught onto that but didn’t say anything, however, she was very much interested in looking at you, and knowing more about you, your kind, and of course, you in general. She had never seen a ‘Sky People’ before and… were they really this small? And did every ‘Sky People’ had the same eyes as you?
You were now really feeling shy as she inspected you, so you looked everywhere, breaking eye contact with her, making her realize what she was doing as she shakes her head, a slight dark tint to teal-green round cheeks.
“That is good, I can’t wait to start teaching you guys tomorrow.” She said with enthusiasm, looking at Neteyam, Lo’ak and Tuk, who returned her smile and nodded, then she looked at you.
You finally smile, and Tsireya almost chirped at how you looked. Cute
You were about to speak again when somebody called out to her, making her turn her head.
“Oh, it looks like I am needed…” She turns back. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”
“You bet.” You reply out of thought, immediately cringing at your tone with a scrunch of your nose, however you hear Tsireya giggle and wave at you goodbye as she jogged away.
You turn around and you were met with the playful looks from your siblings, mainly Neteyam and Lo’ak. You still cringed as you approached them, smacking their arms as they let out an ‘Ow’
“Let’s go.” You speak and Tuk clings to you as you start walking back.
“Oooh, someone’s in love.” Lo’ak started. “Oh, wonder who it could be brother, hm?” Neteyam joined him in his mischief. “I think it’s our sister, maybe? I’m not sure.” Lo’ak followed.
“I will literally drown you guys in acid if you keep this up.” You threatened.
“No, (Y/N) don’t do that!” Tuk pleaded, making your brothers laugh out loud.
Walking back to your pod, you saw your father. The moment he spots you he nods “Okay, Sully’s fall in.”
“Didn’t know we had a family meeting.” You said, Jake gives you a look before all of you sat or kneeled.
“First off, I need you kids on your best behaviour,” Jake started, hand outstretched as if he was blessing us to be good. “I mean it. Learn fast, pull your weight.” He spoke. “Don’t cause trouble, got it?”
“Yes sir.” Lo’ak replied. You and Neteyam look at Lo’ak in the middle of you two with a smirk. Neteyam playfully places a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder, yet Lo’ak was having none of it as he hissed at Neteyam, making the two of you laugh.
“I want to go home.” Tuk suddenly says, a frown etched on her face as you pursed your lips, placing a comforting hand on her arm as she wiped her tears with her other hand. “Aw, Tuk.” Neytiri says, frowning as well.
“Tuk,” Jake said in a whisper “This is our home now.”
He grabs Tuk’s hand before looking at all of you. “We’re gonna get through this. We’re going to get through this if we have each other’s backs. Right?”
“What does your father always say?” Neytiri inquired.
“Sully’s stick together.” Neteyam was the first one to respond in a hushed voice. “That’s right, Sully’s stick together… Now this time with some feeling.” Jake requested.
“Sully’s stick together.” You all said simultaneously.
#tsireya#tsireya x reader#tsireya x y/n#tsireya x you#avatar fanfiction#tsireya imagines#tsireya one shots#tsireya fanfiction#avatar the way of water x reader#avatar the way of water#atwow#atwow tsireya#avatar twow#avatar way of water x reader#avatar way of water#avatar 2022#avatar 2#avatar x reader#avatar tsireya#x reader#imagines#fanfiction#𝐲𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ❁
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stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 7, “i’m drunk in the back of the car and i cried like a baby coming home from the bar. said, ‘I'm fine,’ but it wasn't true.”
a/n: sad, but gets hopeful! one more part after this, i think :)
“i’m glad i never ended up having a party at my house.”
danny fell into step beside y/n, their shoes scuffing against the sidewalk. they had to park all the way down the street from jack’s house because there were so many other people here. because it was so late at night, the air in beacon hills was cool. y/n hugged her arms around herself, wishing she hadn’t worn a tank top beneath her jacket. her breath came out like a fog as she spoke.
danny made a face at the thought, “too much work. imagine the clean up.”
“yeah, no thanks,” she shivered.
the music coming from the house ahead of them got louder as they neared it. some popular radio song reverberated in their ears. y/n felt her heart beat in her throat, thumping along to the bass. danny lit up once they reached the door, excited to drink, dance.
he always was the party type. he had so much fun moving to the music, losing himself in the crowd.
on the other hand, there was y/n, who didn’t normally drink at parties. she was a go-to for being the designated driver, choosing to watch out for her friends and play with whatever animal the owner of the house had sniffing around.
tonight, however, she wanted to let loose. needed to, more so.there was nothing better after a heartbreak than getting messy-drunk at a high school party.
it had been a week. a whole week since her and stiles’ fall out. a week since she’d seen his face. sure, she saw his figure in the hallways sometimes, but she would run the other way. he’d start to chase her down, but danny was usually close by and he’d shoot stiles a glaring look. it turned him away. he’d texted her nonstop, called her about a million times. but, after the fourth day, when he realized she just wouldn’t be responding, he stopped. all lines of communication fell out. any hope of fixing what was broken was squashed out.
when y/n thought about it too much, she felt sick. nausea tumbled through her stomach. her head became fuzzy. stupid, naive girl, she’d think to herself. it’s all your fault. so, every single time her mind started to wander, she’d shove her nose into her homework, pick up a shift at work, get so high out of her mind that reality felt like a television show.
tonight, her choice of thought erasure was getting wasted at a high school party.
y/n squeezed her hand around danny’s bicep once they walked in. in response, he kept her close to his side as they wormed through jack’s house, in search of their friend group. eventually, they found leo, megan, jack, and a few others. they were in the kitchen, standing around the island counter. glasses were scattered around the house already, though the party had just started barely an hour or so ago. the group cheered when y/n and danny came through the door, holding up some of the red solo cups.
megan came to y/n’s side, her tipsy stature morphing her usually quiet attitude into something more sentimental. she clutched onto y/n’s arm. she touched y/n’s cheek and gushed over the curls swinging over her shoulders. “i loooove the hair, girl. you look so pretty with it like that. you’re always pretty, though. oh, my god, you know we haven’t hung out in forever and it makes me so sad. please, please say we’ll hang out soon.”
y/n giggled at megan’s state, wrapping a securely protective arm around megan’s waist. “i promise, okay?”
y/n was the first to admit that she’d been so caught up with boys over the last few months. she hadn’t exactly pushed away her friends, but she hadn’t prioritized them, either. she was in her head with her own issues, and didn’t make the time others. it made her feel a little guilty. but, before that feeling could snowball into the depressive heartbreak she’d been plagued with, megan continued.
“what’s new with you? what have you been up to? i hope you’re not still sad about sam. you should know you’re so much fucking better than him. you deserve so much fucking better than him. he’s such a whore. fuck him.”
“no, i’m over that,” y/n said, confidently waving megan off through a giggle. and she was telling the truth. “i’ve just been…hanging out. ya know. working.” her gaze became distant, words slow as stiles’ face flashes through her memories. y/n didn’t say what she had been really doing. it was embarrassing to admit that she’d gotten herself into another shitty situation with a guy.
though, megan squinted her eyes, analyzing her friend’s words. she knew, “oh, no. oh, no, no, no. fucking stilinksi. i fucking knew once danny told us- okay. listen- you don’t even have to say anything, kay? tonight, we’re just gonna have fun. here, jack, pour us some shots!”
y/n couldn’t help but grin in response. there wasn’t time to imagine stiles- to envision his lips ghosting the curve of her skin, to try to remember what it felt like when he’d draw out movement from her body. because, next thing she knew, megan was shoving two to three red solo shot cups into y/n’s hand- all in a row. and y/n didn’t let herself hesitate. she swallowed them easily, ignoring the burn in her throat, her heart, her chest, and head.
jack cracked a smirnoff open for her. danny caught y/n’s eyes as she took a sip and gave her a thumbs up. when she waved him off, he winked, then wandered his way into the living room, where people were dancing. he’d mentioned something about ethan being there. y/n looped her arm through megan’s, pointed in that direction. megan nodded excitedly and pulled them to the makeshift dance floor.
they danced for what felt like hours but, really, was only maybe forty five minutes. jack and leo, avid partiers, continued shoving shots into their friend’s hands, traveling between the bar in the kitchen and the dance floor. y/n losing track of time turned into her losing track of how much she was drinking. one smirnoff turned into numerous empty glasses that she’d abandon on the coffee table beside her.
she had to take her jacket off after a while, sweating too much in the jean material. y/n tossed it, absentmindedly, on the couch. she probably wouldn’t remember it there later. she’d probably have jack in a frenzy, texting everyone tomorrow about random articles of clothing in his living room. she’d probably lose the 20 stuffed into the pocket to some wandering hands. but it didn’t matter.
nothing really mattered. not when her favorite song played, not when megan spun her around, when danny would yell lyrics into her face and ruffle her hair. y/n just kept throwing her head back, giggling like a mad woman.
it didn’t matter. it did not matter to her. the entire, fucked up situation with stiles. it didn’t matter that he had used her, that he had been seeing lydia the whole time. it did not matter that he had kept so many secrets from her. it did not matter that she broke her own rules, that she let him get beneath her skin, that she fell in love with hi
it did not really matter if she loved him.
y/n turned on her heel, dancing around in circles with megan, both girls holding each other’s hands like they were schoolgirls. her hair whipped over her shoulders, in waves behind her back. her eyes couldn’t focus on the blurred, bright lights passing her vision as they spun. the bodies surrounding them turned into smudges against her vision. she couldn’t tell who was who.
but she thought she saw stiles standing in the doorway to the kitchen, clear as day.
y/n stalled in her tracks. she nearly fell over from how quickly she stopped. megan bumped into her shoulder, grabbed y/n’s arm to steady herself.
y/n couldn’t breathe. she squinted her eyes, rubbed at them, smudging her mascara.
her sight cleared and there was nobody there.
megan laughed loudly in y/n’s ear, tugging on her arm, “why’d you stop?! keep going! spin, spin!”
y/n took a deep, shuddering breath, staring at the spot where she had pictured stiles. “i need air,” she mumbled.
megan yelled, “what are you saying?”
y/n pulled her arm out of megan’s, “i’m going outside,” she barely looked at her friend. this is why she didn’t like to drink.
y/n stumbled through the house, being shoved left and right by the sweaty, dancing teenagers suffocating her. she didn’t know when she’d started crying, but her face was slick was tears. she wiped her hands across her cheeks, smearing more mascara and eyeliner, blackening her palms. she couldn’t focus her thoughts, nor did she feel like herself. this is why she didn’t like to drink. because she wasn’t logical, she was out of control.
y/n found the side door, the one that led to jack’s garage, and slammed it shut behind her. once she reached the garage floor, she slowly lowered herself to the bottom step, hugged her knees to her chest. she didn’t know if she was having a panic attack or a full mental breakdown. but she couldn’t breathe. and she just wanted to be sober so she could figure out her shit.
y/n pressed a hand to her chest, hoping the pressure would do something: ground her, snap her back to reality. all she could do was sob, rock back and forth like a baby. as she did so, her phone fell out of her back pocket. somehow, her camera roll was open on the screen. staring up at her. a picture of stiles and winnie was there, taunting her.
y/n didn’t have any inhibitions, too far gone to know what crossed the line of boundaries she’d made when she was sober. so, she picked up her phone, her hands shaking.
and she hit the little telephone next to his contact. she stared at the picture as it rung.
she needed him. she needed him to hold her, bare-naked under his bedsheets, warm against his chest. needed him to rake his fingers through her hair and to kiss her forehead, call her baby again. even just say her name. she’d even pretend, like she did a dozen times, just for him, that she didn’t notice his lips linger there. she’d pretend it never happened.
anything for him. if he wanted her and lydia- that was fine. he could have her. she was his, completely, fully. all of his. every inch of her skin that he had laid eyes, that he had touched his with fingertips, every inch of skin that he had nipped at with his teeth- it was his.
he picked up immediately.
“y/n? oh, my god, i’m so fucking- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what i did-“
“stiles,” she cut him off, voice barely above a whisper.
his tone instantly softened. a soothing one replaced his usually hectic vocal demeanor, “oh, baby.” he knew, from just the smallest whimper barely uttered between her lips, he knew that she didn’t want to fight. she didn’t call to argue. she didn’t call to make up, either. she just called to hear him, to talk to him. she needed him.
she’d never know how much he needed her, too.
his voice, breathy in her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. y/n sniffled, knuckles white on the hand which held her phone. her head lolled down, chin hiding into her chest.
“what’s wrong?” he asked.
y/n chewed on her lip for a moment, willing it to stop wobbling, “i mis-“ she stopped herself, jamming a different word onto what she was saying to cover it up, “i mistake. i-um, didn’t mean to call you.
it took him a second to reply, “oh. ok.” he knew it wasn’t true, but he didn’t know what else to say. he didn’t want to press her into a conversation she didn’t want to have. but he didn’t want to end the call. he wanted to be whatever she needed in this moment.
they sat there in silence for a good two minutes, not even the sound of their own ragged, anticipatory breaths making any noise in the other’s ear. y/n’s hand was shaking. she loosened her tight grip on her knees and stretched her legs out in front of her. the shift in position helped her breath a little bit better.
she sniffled again, tilted her head back. as she stared at the ceiling, she suddenly laughed. “i didn’t make a fucking mistake, stiles. god, i meant to call you.”
“oh, good,” his tone remained still and flat. he was focused on reading her words. there was meaning between the lines that he couldn’t read. and she was acting strange. he was decoding everything.
“i mean to call you because every single second that i’m not with you, i feel like i’m going to die!” she exclaimed, tossing her other hand in the air.
stiles rubbed his lips together, brows furrowed, “i’m glad that you called.” he, also, felt like he was going to die without her. but, he didn’t know if he should tell.
if only stiles knew that if he would have just told her, honestly, how he felt, as soon as he felt it, months ago, this entire situation could have been avoided. alas, it was a lesson he was still learning.
“good,” y/n huffed. hearing him calmed her down. knowing he was there coaxed her off the edge of anxiety. now, her drunken self took back over her body. and drunk y/n wanted to dance, “okay. i’m going back to the party-“
“party?” stiles interrupted her, his concerned tone back. she was annoyed that he cared where she was at. he didn’t have any right to that feeling- though, also, it made her feel good, that jealousy, that toxicity.
drunk y/n was feeling a lot.
she nodded, though he couldn’t see her, stating matter of factly, “party. i’m at a party, stiles. i’m drunk, and i’m having a blast. well, i was having a blast until you popped into my mind. god, do you know how badly i want to punch you in the face? i just wanna give you, like, a knuckle sandwich, ya know? maybe being hit will make you figure your shit out. okay, whatever. like i was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, i’m going back to the party. i’m going to go dance with my friends-“
stiles had just left the animal clinic, where he, lydia, allison, and scott had met to discuss plans to combat the killer still in beacon hills. chills were lingering on his skin, thinking about all of the photographs stolen from the station, picturing dead students cut at the throat. every time they’d pull another out of the beige manila folder, y/n’s face would appear in his head, attached to a battered, beaten corpse. he’d been worried sick about her the last week, especially since the murderous rampages had slowly spread, closer to home. and, they were more vicious as every day passed. he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t stay outside her house every night, parked in his jeep down the road, barely able to sleep.
her, drunk at a party, was the last situation stiles needed her to be in. it was dangerous. he didn’t want to show up to a crime scene with her corpse lying within a body bag. he couldn’t lose her.
of course, she didn’t know that that was a possible ending to her night. everyone knew about the serial killer, but average citizens of beacon hills didn’t really seem concern themselves with something that seemed so out of reach. teenagers, especially, were naive and vulnerable to things like that.
“who’s with you?” he interceded her words, again. y/n groaned in response and went to complain about how he always did shit like that. but, he spoke again, more firmly this time, “y/n, who’s with you?”
“my friends, just danny, megan, jack, leo. a bunch of other people i don’t know,” she listed off, staring into space. “why do you care?”
“where is it?” stiles demanded. sure, he didn’t have claws, fangs, or anything that would stop a literal supernatural serial killer besides a beat-up baseball ball and his annoying attitude which would eventually drive the creature even more insane. but, he needed to be there. heather had died at a party. the ending scene of a slasher film always happened at a party. parties were breeding grounds for death, as if they were the tenth circle of dante’s inferno or something.
y/n, danny, leo, megan- they were all sitting ducks. targets for something really bad yet to happen.
so, he needed to be there. convince her to leave, if he could. if she wouldn’t leave, he’d stay. he’d stay for her.
anything for her.
y/n hung up on the phone once he said he was on the way. she’d scoffed and said, “yeah, fucking right. danny will beat the shit out of you.”
the beeping tone of a hung up line hit stiles like a truck. he still didn’t quite understand what he had done. if he did, he’d had fixed it by now. he was always good at fixing things. maybe he didn’t have glowing red eyes, or the ability to predict death, but he always was able to fix the jeep. he pulled his dad out of his alcoholic pit after his mom’s death. he was a problem solver. he was good at it.
but, he didn’t what was broken.
tonight, he intended to find out. he didn’t care if danny beat the shit out of him, or if y/n wouldn’t listen. he’d wait for her to open her ears to his incessant bickering, holding an ice pack to whatever bruises danny had left. he knew she’d break eventually.
if she really was done with him, if she really didn’t want to hear him out, why else had she called him?
–
stiles broke about a billion traffic laws. but he managed to get there, quickly, in one piece.
he couldn’t locate y/n anywhere inside the house, but did find all of her friends dancing in the living room. had they been there the whole time? did they even know y/n was on her own? probably not. you’d think, with a serial killer on the loose, they’d care more about each other’s safety.
his jaw dropped at the sight of them, carelessly floating through the crowd while one of their friends was drunk and alone, in some dark corner of this house. it pissed him off, as did all of the people pushing against him, alcohol sloshing over the rims of their cups and onto his shoes, the smell of sweat, and the sight of teenagers making out against walls, doors, other couples.
he had always hated people, but parties reminded him just how much of that hatred existed within his chest.
stiles checked the upstairs bedrooms, bathrooms, called her name out, down the basement steps, peeked into the empty garage, and even looked inside a pantry in case she’d stuffed herself somewhere like that.
stiles was grateful to, eventually, find her, outside, on the edge of the pool. her sneakers and socks were flung into the yard behind her. she swung her bare feet in the chlorinated water, completely soaking the bottoms of her jeans. y/n’s palms were planted on the concrete beside her thighs, her head thrown back, eyes closed as she swayed to the music. she didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
stiles huffed when he saw her, the deep, worried breath rattling in his chest. “y/n,” he said, hoping to garner her attention. his hands flung about him, as they normally did when he spoke.
she didn’t seem to care that he was there, but she definitely heard him. he knew she had because he watched y/n’s shoulders flinch, ever so slightly, at the sound of her own name.
stiles squatted down beside her, curling a soft hand around her bicep, “y/n, hey-“
she pulled her arm away, as if his hand was made of lava. “go away, stiles.” his hand stilled in the air where she’d pushed it, fingers flexing at the rejection.
stiles then pressed the hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut with frustration, impatience. “y/n, please-“
she looked up at him, jaw slack from her drunken state. her eyes looked darkened, the deadly stare enhanced by her ruined makeup. “what the fuck do you want?”
stiles met her eyes. his face softened, concern overwhelmingly her features. just seeing her face, though it was a wreck- it sent goosebumps across his skin. she was so fucking pretty, even though she’d been crying. why had she been crying?
“i want to talk to you-“
“go away,” she waved him off. y/n then pulled her legs from the pool, dripping water all over the concrete. stiles’ eyes moved down her body, ensuring she was in one piece. he noticed the goosebumps all over her bare arms. she was freezing cold.
he stood with her, following her quick feet. “where’s your jacket?” stiles began to pull off his zip up jacket while she grabbed her shoes. he reached out for her arm again. his fingertips on her shoulder felt like a zap of electricity.
y/n flinched away again. she whipped her head back towards him, a deep frown enlisted on her features, “fuck off, stiles! don’t even try pretend like you care about that shit right now! seriously, go the fuck home! i told you not to come!”
stiles took a step away from her. he wished he knew what he had done so fucking badly. he wanted to kiss her eyelids. he wanted to clean off her makeup, wrap her up in his bedsheets, rub circles into her back until she fell asleep, soundly in his hood.
but, all of that couldn’t really be at the forefront of his mind right now. it couldn’t matter. he was here to protect, whether she wanted him there or not. and, she very obviously did not want him at this party. well, too damn bad. he pushed the thoughts aside.
“i’m not going anywhere,” stiles threw his hands up, as if to challenge her. if she wanted him gone, she’d have to drag him out of there. he continued to follow her. she found a chair and sat down in order to put her shoes on. he continued, “look, i don’t know what i did, but you don’t even understand what’s happening in this town. i have to protect-“
“bro, get the fuck away from her!”
stiles felt a pressure against his chest as someone’s abnormally strong had pushed him away from y/n’s presence. she looked up from her shoe laces that she was struggling to tie, brows furrowing at the sound of stiles’ grunt. she watched as stiles stumbled over his feet. he straightened up, quick, and met the eye of his assailant.
“oh, fuck off, dude,” stiles tilted his head to the side, slowly shaking it in annoyance. his jaw clenched, fists flexed at his sides. he took an intimidating step forward.
y/n glanced between stiles and sam owens, taking a deep, shuddering breath. sam puffed out his chest, towering over stiles by a couple of inches. although he was buffer, taller, a couple years older, he didn’t seem nearly as threatening as stiles did. the devilish qualities to his features seemed to heighten themselves in defiance to sam’s presence.
the black haired boy glared his eyes at sam, pupils blown out out with a stormy darkness. she knew it was wrong, but seeing him so angry at sam- y/n couldn’t help but admit that it made her stomach twirl.
they’d never really had the sam talk, at least she hadn’t told him every single thing. she’d mentioned sam, once, when she and stiles were talking about something else. it was offhanded, when she brought him up. danny, however, had spilled his guts to stiles about the short situationship y/n and that “douchebag” had been in all summer.
and stiles was pissed the fuck off. he knew about sam’s girlfriend at college. he knew sam had used y/n for sex over the summer. he knew that sam had told her he loved her right before breaking up with her.
oh, was stiles angry.
that was, after all, his girl now. and nobody was gonna fuck with stiles’ girl. nobody was gonna fuck with stiles.
he stepped forward, now nearly chest to chest with sam, who replied, “who the fuck are you? y/n told you to leave! want me to show you the door, kid?”
“who the fuck am i? watch your mouth, dickhead. you have no fucking business here-“
y/n quickly stood, wary hands before herself, “stiles, it’s not worth it, i promise.” she stalled his words, but stiles wouldn’t even look over at her. his dark eyes bore a hole through sam, and she knew he was probably going to hit him.
y/n, who was now feeling quite sobered up, glanced to the house. she knew that if they started fighting, stiles would get his ass handed to him. sam was a wrestler in college, the best in his weight class. he was a fucking state champion.
so, she needed to get to danny, who was definitely stronger than stiles, at least. he’d probably be able to keep them apart long enough for her to calm stiles down.
but, she didn���t have any time, because sam was mouthing stiles off again. and stiles really was the best at banter. so, he was getting himself into a lot of trouble.
“you put your fucking hands on her, and she told you to stop. makes it my goddamn business-“
“oh, my god, shut the fuck up!” stiles rolled his eyes at sam. he opened his mouth to shoot off some other sarcastic remark when sam reared back a fist and clipped the side of stiles’ face. stiles nearly fall back on the concrete alongside the pool, but he caught himself. having a werewolf as a best friend had taught him a thing or two. so, he was ready to fight.
stiles hit sam in return, most likely breaking his hand- definitely breaking his hand, he knew it. but the punch tossed sam onto the lounge chair behind him. it surprised both stiles and y/n, who had to jump out of the way. she nearly getting taken out by sam’s thrown body.
stiles met her eye and the sight of her, standing there, scared, softened him. he reached for her, closing the distance between then within two long strides. he set his hands on her biceps, ignoring the throbbing pain in his left one. blood dripped from his cracked knuckles, bleeding onto her skin. she clutched onto his elbows in response, any anger for him washed away by fear and worry.
“shit, are you okay? i’m so-“
before he could continue, y/n was shoved to the ground. she scraped her palms, cut her elbow open, and busted her tailbone, hard, on the concrete. she thought she hit her chin, too, but she couldn’t really tell, because y/n’s vision blurred from the fall.
sam tackled stiles to the ground with another punch. they landed in the grass, and went at each other. it took y/n a second to clear her pained head, but she managed to push herself up on her feet. some of their classmates continued partying around them, most just ignoring the fight. but a small crowd gathered to watch it, like it was something exciting, something fun to do. the bystanders made y/n feel sick. nobody was doing anything.
she didn’t even take a second to look at stiles, knowing that seeing him like that would stall her in her tracks. instead, she turned towards jack’s house, danny’s name screeching out of her throat.
she ran inside, feeling like she was pushing through thick, slow jello. she continued to yell out his name. luckily, she found him, on the dance floor still. ethan was there, too. good- he could help.
ethan was already meeting her, setting a kind hand on her arm. “what’s wrong?” his eyes glazed over, and he looked to the side, as though he could hear the fight. he ran outside.
danny shoved through the crowd, towards her. he caught her chin in his hand examining her wounds, “what the fuck happened? what’s going on?”
y/n, breathing heavily, sobbing again, stumbled out, “sam and stiles!”
danny pushed aside as he fell into a run. y/n followed, though the burning of her cuts and scrapes became more intense on her nerves. she seethed a breath between her teeth, stumbling over her feet, but pushed on.
ethan had shoved sam to the grass, though he was getting back up, again. danny immediately lunged in between them before sam could get to stiles. danny sent a harsh punch to sam’s gut, forcing him backwards again. danny then grabbed stiles by the shirt, helped him become balanced on his feet, before danny pushed him away, too. ethan came back in, grabbing stiles around the chest to hold him back, though stiles fought against the tight hold. sam somehow got up, again, clutching his stomach, and jumped towards stiles. danny punched him again and shook out his fist after. the look on his face was annoyed, but also, somehow, vengeful. he had been waiting all summer, all of fall, to punch this motherfucker.
“fuck you guys!” sam spat at danny and stiles from his knees, more blood trailing down his already slick chin.
stiles grunted, fighting against ethan’s hold. “you’re a piece of fucking shit! pussy ass bitch-“
“shut the fuck up-“ sam cut him off, then added, “i don’t even give a fuck about that bitch!“
danny shook his head at the words spitting from sam’s mouth. stiles looked angrier, if at all possible. ethan’s hold loosened on him, shocked by the insults sam threw at y/n. ethan did care for her, too, even if he barely knew her. she was everything to danny.
all three boys were seething with anger. sam had called her a bitch, and they did not like that.
sam simply smirked up at them, his words and expression challenging them. he went to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, but he didn’t get a chance to even take another breath because danny had lunged after him again.
ethan let go of stiles, purposefully, and the boy followed suit. ethan, a little more controlled- even though the situation pissed him off, too- grabbed danny, but not before allowing him to get a few punches in.
y/n ran forward and tried to grab stiles’ arm. she failed, and instead tripped over his shoe. she tumbled into the grass. she quickly pulled herself up, again. when she looked for stiles, she saw him being restricted again, this time by scott’s arm. she didn’t know when he had arrived, but she was glad for the extra help.
it made her heart swell that all of these men cared about her so much to fight sam like they were, but it really needed to end already. it shouldn’t have even gotten out of hand in the first place. she was nauseous, hurting in all of the places she’d been wounded, and extremely tired from the alcohol still coursing through her system.
y/n stood up. scott was rushing out words to his friend, “hey! stiles! stiles, cmon, dude! calm down! stiles!”
“stiles!” y/n called. she crouched down in front of him, reaching for his face.
stiles finally met her eyes and a steady rhythm graciously caught his breath. she cupped his jaw in her delicate fingers. his blood smeared across his face, all over her hands.
a few tears ran down his face, falling into her palms. she didn’t know why he was crying, if it was because of his injuries or his anger. but she wiped them away with her thumbs.
“it’s okay, baby,” she whispered, for only him to hear. “i’m okay, it’s okay. please, just calm down.”
scott, who had let go of stiles, turned to sam, who was standing up from the ground. scott was charismatic, and could usually easily demand people. he put out a cautious hand towards sam, “leave it, buddy. just leave it, trust me,” scott warned him.
stiles slumped forward, on his knees. y/n squatted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. she used all of her strength to stand them up, brushing the sweaty, bloody hair from his face. sam watched her tenderness as she cared for stiles, feeling a surge of jealousy. sam knew he didn’t want her. he knew he had willingly given her up. but, that didn’t mean he wanted anybody else to get to have her.
so, just when it seemed like it was over, sam scoffed, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll leave it. she’s not worth it. she’s just an easy fuck and a cheap ass date-“
now, scott was angry. he roared, and y/n thought she saw his eyes flash a bright red. he went after sam, just to shut his stupid fucking mouth. he swept past y/n and stiles, who clutched onto her waistline protectively. he tried to duck them out of the way, but his foot skidded over the concrete, and they tripped towards the water.
she yelped, clutching onto his neck, as they fell into the pool. the water enveloped them, but tore them from one another. y/n kicked her feet sporadically, shocked by the cold, by the alarming fall they’d taken. she grabbed for stiles’ shirt and gratefully felt his hands fluttering for her hips.
she blew out a lot of bubbles, struggling to hold her breath from all of the shock. stiles tugged her tightly against him, again, and swam them to the surface. y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched onto his shoulders. she was shaking, with fear, with pain, from the cold water nipping at her skin. it was all so much all at once that she just laughed.
stiles stared at her as she tossed her head back, giggling like a maniac. he furrowed hit brows, jutted his chin out, “what are you laughing about?”
y/n barely met his eye, continuing to laugh at the fucked up situation. “this is just so stupid!”
he remembered she was drunk and tapped her hip, “okay, let’s get you out of here-“
“it’s stupid, stiles!” she slapped a hand down onto his shoulder. “you’re stupid! that fight was fucking stupid! sam’s stupid! this night is stupid! i’m stupid!”
“why am i- why are you stupid?” he didn’t want to make it all about him. she was clearly grappling with something, something she needed to talk out.
she couldn’t continue to push everything away, including him. “i’m stupid! i let you and that stupid boy fuck up everything! i let it happen not once, but twice! what is it- fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me? i’m a fool! you and sam are, like- oh, my god, im just stupid. and that was so fucking stupid- you and sam fighting over me! you guys fought over me, but both of you are the reason im so fucked up in the first place! it’s your guys’ fault and you just had some stupid pissing contest-!”
“me and sam?” stiles sounded out his words carefully, working through her rambles in his fuzzy head.
the night she’d ran out of his house, in a craze, a mess because of his phone blowing up- what had triggered that?
who had called stiles that night? who had been blowing up his phone? was it-
it was lydia.
lydia, the girl everyone at beacon hills high knew he’d had a major crush on for, like basically, ever.
y/n must have looked at his phone. she must have put together, based off of the texts he’d been sent, based off all of the context clues laying right in front of him, that he and lydia were together.
meanwhile, am had had a girlfriend the entire time he and y/n had gone out. every day, he’d see his girlfriend. then, usually on the weekends, when it was dark, he’d bring y/n out like a toy.
y/n thought stiles was just like sam. y/n thought stiles was using her.
she had no clue that she was everything and the sun to him. she had no clue that he needed her like water, that he craved her like wine. she didn’t know that he spent every night rereading their texts, analyzing their conversations, going over their interactions, decoding everything to find a way for her to love him despite her hurt, despite what they agreed on.
she was used to being broken by people who claimed to love her, and stiles was just another part of that system.
so, he needed to tell. right now.
stiles gripped onto her hips, shaking her body just once so she’d meet his eyes. “listen-“
“no, just- get me out-“
“y/n, you beautiful, gorgeous, sweet woman- just listen to me! okay? just listen!” stiles demanded, “i’m not with lydia, alright? i’ve never been with her. i don’t want her- i’m in-“
“stiles!” scott called his name from above, standing at the edge of the pool. his eyes still glowed red, his face was still morphed into that of a wolf. scott’s chest puffed out, in, heavily, with deep, ragged breaths.
stiles knew something was wrong based off of his friend’s demeanor.
“we have to get to the school. lydia’s in trouble.”
stiles looked to y/n, who’s face had lit up from the possibility of stiles’ words. her expression morphed into confusion. he wanted to say something, to say sorry. but, he couldn’t. he couldn’t focus.
so, y/n took her turn to speak, graciously replying with, “stiles, i know there’s so much that you’re still hiding from me-“ she glanced up at scott, who tilted his head with shame, “so, i’m coming with you. if you want me to trust you, i have to come with you. i have to know.”
stiles knew she was right.
so he drug her, head first, into the world of the supernatural.
#derek x stiles#stiles stilinksi fanfiction#stiles stilinksi imagine#stiles stilinksi x reader#stiles stilinski#stiles x lydia#stiles x reader#teen wolf#teen wolf stiles#teen wolf x reader
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"You know, I really thought that if we were at the point where I really definitely got us killed, you'd be yelling at me about, like, my carelessness or my lack of foresight or how you knew this was going to happen ever since that after hours public pool incident back in seventh grade because I am sure that you have an exact date and time when you realized that we were going to die side by side and it would be my fault but you're just being really quiet right now which is worse, actually, it's worse, Gus, because I -”
Gus graciously interrupts Shawn's death rattle of a monologue with a shaky, “Shut up, Shawn.”
He's never heard Gus sound resigned before. Every other emotion under the sun but not resigned. They're not making it out of this.
“Gus, I have a dramatic deathbed confession to make,” he says, a lot more terrified and high-pitched than he was hoping for, considering what he's about to say. “I—”
“Shut up, Shawn,” Gus says, with exactly the tone that Shawn was going for. Passion. Gravitas. He looks up to see the most fascinating Gus face he's ever witnessed and then Gus is grabbing him by the hair to kiss the everliving hell out of him.
Shawn's wondering whether it's worth trying to have sex or if it will just make it weird when the murderer finally comes to murder them when the door unlocks and light streams in and it's Juliet and not the murderer who was definitely going to murder them.
As soon as they're outside the creepy murder house, Gus books it.
“Hey! Gus!” Shawn yells, chasing him. “We have sensitive things to address!”
“No, we don't!” Gus yells back.
“You have nowhere to run! I know where you live!”
“I'll move!”
“I'll find you!”
“I'll move again!”
“That's needlessly expensive when you could just stop sprinting so I can tell you that I LOVE YOU, TOO,” Shawn says, out of breath, grateful that Gus freezes and turns around slowly.
“. . .you what?” he asks.
“What did you think my dying confession was?” Shawn asks.
“I assumed it would be an ill-timed joke,” Gus says, walking back slowly, “or a reference to an 80s movie or a—dirty limerick.”
“. . .all fair assumptions,” Shawn admits, softly.
They look at each other for a long moment.
“How long?” Gus asks, almost suspiciously.
“Who knows?” Shawn sighs. “Forever? Forever seems like the most—accurate estimate.”
“. . .oh god, I used all my courage kissing you the first time,” Gus says, strained, looking at the night sky instead of Shawn, “so if you're planning on something happening right now, I'm gonna need you to. . .you know. . .because I’m about to start running again if you don't—Shawn, kiss me.”
“Oh! Okay, yeah,” Shawn says, quickly, stepping in to pull Gus into a kiss that's less dramatic than the first one but way, way better.
Mostly because they aren't about to get murdered.
“. . .do you want to go get several kinds of breakfast foods with me?” Shawn asks, when they part.
Gus lets out a soft sigh.
“Please,” he says, leaning into Shawn when he wraps an arm around him and guides him back towards the cop cars.
“I'm gonna play footsie with you under the table,” Shawn says.
“As long as I get food, you can do whatever you want to me under the table," Gus says, groaning when Shawn makes a scandalized noise. "That is not what I meant."
"Hey, don't get my hopes up," Shawn says, happily.
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Charlie Baker sneakily spying on Y/N Murtaugh and then Charlie gets caught by Nigel, Kyle and Sarah because he's being suspicious and ends up embarassing and mildly hurting himself like an idiot. Kinda like how he fell from the dock inro the lake but this time something else happens
Charlie wasn't spying. Okay, maybe he was spying a little, but he had good reason to. Perhaps his dad wasn't entirely wrong about the Murtaughs and their quest to crush the Bakers at the Annual Labor Day Family Cup. It definitely made sense to Charlie. Despite knowing the Murtaughs which seemed like forever, Charlie couldn't shake the rivalry he had with Y/N Murtaugh.
Y/N was Jimmy Murtaugh's third oldest son and four child in their nine kids. Charlie had been rivals with him since they were kids, despite being two years older than him; he couldn't shake how much Y/N made his blood boil. It's like they were the spitting image of their dads, bitter enemies destined to destroy or outdo each other.
Charlie was using his dad's high tech binoculars to observe the Murtaugh's and all their rich and accomplishments. It was so disgusting that it made Charlie want to throw up. He scanned the whole lake Winnetka, until he found his target.
There was Y/N in all his glory as he swam through the water like a merman or something. The jerk. His strokes were smooth and slow as he glided through the water almost like he belonged there. Charlie watched him go and wasn't aware that his younger siblings: Sarah, Nigel, and Kyle were watching him, until Sarah smirked and said, "Hey, big brother! Whatcha doin with those binoculars? Spying on the Murtaughs perchance?"
Charlie looked away from Y/N and looked down at his siblings as Kyle and Nigel giggled. "I'm not spying on anyone." Charlie defended himself. "I was just testing them out for dad." It was a bad lie and even someone as simple minded as Nigel and Kyle would understand that Charlie was lying.
Sarah nods and smirks once again. "Riiiiggght."
Charlie watched them all giggled as he tried not to flush with embarrassment. "Whatever. I'm gonna go for a run."
"Why? To go check on your boyfriend?"
"Y/N's not my boyfriend. He's an as—" Charlie paused and thought better of cussing in front of Nigel and Kyle. "He's a weenie." He headed down the trail towards an old wooden octagon gazebo in the woods.
That didn't stop Kyle and Nigel as the twin boys started chanting at the top of their lungs. "Charlie's gotta boyfriend! Charlie's gotta boyfriend. Charlie's gotta boyfriend!"
Charlie tried to ignore them as he ran down the path that Y/N was currently swimming down to. Sarah looks at her younger brothers. "Wanna follow him?" They nod and the three of them chase after their big brother.
Charlie had made it to the gazebo just in time as Y/N was headed on his last lap towards it. Charlie ducked behind some trees for cover as he waited for Y/N to climb out of the water. The young man got up as the lake water ran down his smooth body and towards his green swimming trunks. Charlie's favorite color was green.
He watched him as he began to dry himself off with a towel as he turned his head side to side before he pulled his trunks down and started to dry his male parts off. Charlie stares it at him in utter shock. This certainly wasn't the first time he's seen Y/N naked. Like when they were kids playing in the mud, or in the locker rooms and showers. So, why was this so shocking?
He couldn't take his eyes off as Y/N Murtaugh was almost naked in the woods and Charlie had a front row seat. He bit his lower lip as he saw Y/N turn slightly and bent down, exposing his ass for Charlie as he tried not to think dirty thoughts about seeing his ass.
Charlie was so caught up in his staring, that he didn't hear Sarah, Nigel,and Kyle until Sarah talked in his ear. "Hi, Charlie!" The older Baker fell from his hiding spot and fell on the ground, covering his mouth and face in dirt. His siblings laughed as Y/N gasped and jumped up from their sudden appearance as he put the towel over his naked body. "Baker? What the heck are you doing spying on me? You pervert."
Said second oldest Baker stood up, and tried to look professional with dirt on his yellow shirt. "I wasn't spying on you. Don't flatter yourself, Murtaugh."
#x male reader#male reader insert#tom welling x male reader#tom welling#charlie baker#Charlie Baker x male reader#cheaper by the dozen#cheaper by the dozen 2#Y/N Murtaugh#male x male
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24 to 25 ✧.* y.ji (part one)
➳ PAIRING: jeongin x fem!reader
➳ GENRE: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, christmas
➳ WARNINGS: mild language, mentions of food, long as hell, i put the ‘slow’ in slowburn (in my defense this trope does not work without it), i’ve checked like 1922847473 times for inconsistencies but if there are any pls be nice it’s my first long fic ;w;
➳ WORD COUNT: 47.7k (part one: 25.9k; part two: 21.8k) i'm so sorry
➳ SUMMARY: “stay for christmas?” was a phrase jeongin first uttered to you when you were both ten years old, but neither of you had any idea the bond those three little words would hold as the years go by. (inspired by “24 to 25” by stray kids)
➳ NOTES: IT’S FINALLY UP!! i’m so sorry for the wait, i really really wanted to get this right and it took me wayyy longer than i thought it would. but i love how it turned out and i'm so proud of it. i hope y’all enjoy :’)
i’ll include more to the note when i'm not in such a rush to get this posted but tysm to everyone who helped me in writing it! @crispy-chan jas thank you for beta reading (i’m so sorry it was so long) your comments were really sweet and really reassured me that i was doing okay <;33 thank u @pearleechai and @gloseoks for helping me out with that one part i got stuck on for like a week lmaooo. to elsa specifically, ty for all ur help and encouragement in the couple chapters i asked for help on :D i’m sorry it meant u had some of the fic spoiled for u tho ;w; lastly, @svtbabies hopie u have been my lifesaver from start to finish w this fic. thank u so so much for planning w me and for the multiple times you’ve saved me from a huge writer’s block. i wouldn’t have been able to complete this without you, so ty for everything <33 also ty for the banner lol
➳ IMPORTANT!!! this fic is so long that i have to split it into two parts. i'd use the legacy editor but i can't toggle btwn the two anymore 😭 i did not intend for it to be this lengthy but anything for childhood friends to lovers i guess
[part one] | part two
network tags: @straykidsland
9 years old. (prologue)
“Come on, Y/N, you can’t cling onto my shirt forever,” your mother urges you with a small chuckle.
You stiffen up in your spot at the edge of the picnic bench, and your eyes bounce between the several children on and around the playground equipment. Mixtures of squeals and cheerful laughter ring above the Christmas song playing from the outdoor speaker your new neighbors, the Choi family, set up. You forgot if it was the one with the son older than you or the son your age, though—you didn’t exactly bother to learn their names when your mother introduced you.
“Go on, Y/N.” Her voice fills your ears again as she gently pushes you off the bench. Speak of the devil.
Shoving your hands in your pockets, you kick the dust with your feet and you keep your gaze cast down on the ground. You didn’t want to socialize—why would you want to make new friends when you had perfectly good ones back in your old neighborhood? Why couldn’t you just go back there? Or just snatch your mother’s dingy old flip phone for a couple minutes to send them a message?
Besides, most of the children here don’t seem like ones you’d be particularly… compatible with. You shouldn’t be one to judge, but the majority of the ones doing laps on the playground equipment couldn’t have been older than five or six. At your big age of nine years old, there’s not much you would have in common with a literal kindergartener. Plus, it seems like they had all formed a friend group of their own, and you’re more than content just watching them chase each other around, gleeful, high-pitched squeals bubbling from their sticky mouths.
Turning your head slightly, you find a group of teenagers sitting around another bench several feet away from all the adults, two of which had their bottoms perched on top of the table as they faced their friends. You would approach them, but just like how you wouldn’t exactly favor befriending the five-year-olds with crayons up their noses, the teenagers likely thought the same of you. Closing your eyes in despair, you groan to yourself and resort to dragging your feet across the dirt.
Why did you even have to move?
As you let out a sigh, you perk up at the fact you could see it in the cold air. It sparks an insurmountable amount of joy for some reason. Perhaps it’s because of the timing of the puff of air with the line, ’Jack Frost nipping at your nose’ that rings from the speakers at the other end of the small neighborhood park, but it causes a giggle to slip past your lips. It’s almost like a new light under the already-dimming sky, the soft pinks and oranges slowly dissipating as the sun begins to dip behind the mountains and give way to the overcast above.
However, you quickly get distracted by the sight of a boy your age—or at least, you assumed—and you hesitantly step closer.
And there he was.
He was short, upside down on the monkey bars, and wearing the most obnoxious shade of purple you had ever laid eyes on. You aren’t sure what hurts more: the sun in your eyes or staring at his sweater.
Looking away from the light gray clouds that hung above the park, you let your gaze fall to the boy. He watches you quietly as he continues to hang upside down, and you notice the small smile that paints his slowly reddening face.
Here goes nothing, you guess.
“Um… hi.”
He stays silent, staring at you with his beady eyes.
Gulping, you continue. “I’m Y/N.”
He mumbles something back, but you can barely make out what he says and you tilt your head slightly in confusion.
“Huh?”
“My name is Jeongin,” he repeats, only the slightest bit louder.
A smile of your own quickly forms on your face. You raise a hand up for him to shake, and he just stares at it for a second before moving one of his outstretched arms to meet you, his hand grasping yours at an awkward angle. You both can’t help but giggle as you give your best attempt at a handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Jeongin,” you say, slowly pulling your hand away and letting his drop above, or rather, below his upside-down head. “I’m Y/N.”
“You said that already,” he says, and his bluntness makes you chuckle.
Slowly, Jeongin maneuvers himself so he’s sitting on top of the monkey bars instead of hanging upside down. Once he gets upright and steadies himself from the blood rushing down from his head, he stares back down at you.
You stuff your hands into your pockets and heave out a sigh. “My mom says I need a friend,” you explain your current plight to Jeongin, and you find his soft gaze once again. It’s strange, really—you’ve only exchanged a few words with this boy, but you already feel comfortable enough to complain about your mother’s nagging to him.
You suppose that helps your next words spill out more easily.
“Want to be friends?”
You watch Jeongin expectantly as he looks down, picking at a piece of lint on his hideous purple sweater. He ponders your question for a minute, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you when he finally nods in response. If your mom wanted you to have a friend so badly, there you go. You got one.
You stand there awkwardly, your eyes drifting back up to the sky for a moment. It occurs to you that you’ve never asked someone to be friends with you; it’s always just kind of happened.
And now you’re stuck, unsure what to do next.
You let out another huff of air, another smile tickling your lips as you watch the faint, white puff form in front of your eyes. Then you look back up at the boy in the obnoxious purple sweater, who seems just as amused by the cold air as you as he lets out his own breath, exhaling like a small dragon.
A chuckle escapes your parted lips as you watch him, kicking his legs lightly as he stares up at the sky. After another minute, you speak again.
“Can I sit up there with you too?”
Nodding his head, he mumbles a small “yeah” and the corners of your mouth twitch up as you hurriedly climb your way up onto the monkey bars. You dangle your legs through the same section as Jeongin’s, and you shift your position slightly as you steady yourself.
A gust of cold air causes you to shiver and as a response, you pull your puffy coat closer to you. This seems to make Jeongin chuckle fondly, and you feel his eyes linger on you for a second before he looks out at the horizon. Neither of you are tall enough to see much above the houses in front of you, but you figure you can use your imaginations to picture what lies beyond that. It’ll have to do.
You both remain silent for a while like this, allowing the chatter and Christmas music below to fill the air around you. It’s comfortable, it feels like a weighted blanket wrapped around your shoulders—which is funny to say because you’re sharing this moment with a kid you’ve barely known for ten minutes. You don’t mind, though. By the looks of it, and the friendly glances you exchange with each other, Jeongin doesn’t seem to, either.
Suddenly, a cold, wet spot falls onto your nose, causing you to gasp and look up.
“Is that…”
Jeongin tilts his head up as well, and he chuckles when another wet drop lands on his face. Meanwhile, you’re in awe. You let your mouth fall open, and your eyes swirl with pure wonderment as you watch the white crystals above you flutter down. It sends chills down your spine, but wraps you up in a cocoon of warmth at the same time.
“Snow…” is all you manage to mumble.
Jeongin turns to you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Have you never seen snow before?”
You glance at him once, shake your head, and look back up at the sky.
The boy’s jaw drops. It almost mirrors your dazed expression, except his features are twisted in surprise. But it’s true—snow was something you had only witnessed in movies. As far as you were concerned, the fluffy, white particles only ever graced the stop-motion characters on the old-timey Christmas cartoons you rewatched every year, or the main couple in whatever cheesy Hallmark movie your parents decided to indulge in.
That is, until now.
You didn’t know at that moment what type of future you had in store, but you know one thing: the snow is beautiful. And as you follow Jeongin down the monkey bars and to your first snowball fight, you have an inkling that you’ll be sticking with him for a while.
Maybe this move won’t be so bad after all.
10 years old.
You let out a huff of air, letting your chin bore into the palm of your hand. Unfortunately, though, the air inside a school classroom doesn’t allow you to watch it come to life. Sure, you had a heater and the bulky coat your mother gave you to thank for warmth, but at what cost?
No matter how hard you try to focus on the math test that was laid out in front of you, you just can’t. Not when the outside seemed to beckon you like a siren, begging you to come out and indulge in the ever-approaching Christmas atmosphere.
It’s all tempting. So, so tempting. Everything else seemed to be falling into place—the air has started to get colder, Christmas music has been playing 24/7 in the stores since November, you’ve worn every ugly Christmas sweater you could get your hands on at least once in the last two weeks, and you’ve begged your mom for a cup of hot chocolate every chance you could get.
Now you just need it to snow, and you need it badly.
After you scribble a random answer for the question you’ve been stuck on for five minutes, you throw your pen onto the table and lean back in your hard, plastic chair in defeat. This was too much mental torture, espically when you could hear Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer faintly playing in another room.
You can’t take it anymore.
Hopelessly, you stare at Jeongin, who somehow sleeps peacefully next to you. You’re sure he’s been asleep since he sat down in his chair. His head lays on his arm, which is covered by his purple sleeve. You snicker at the sight and pray that one day he grows out of that abomination of a sweater.
Your eyes drift back to your stupid math test, silently praying again that the torture won’t last for much longer. You were just one step away from greasy pizza and store-bought sugar cookies until your stomach hurt while The Polar Express filled the dim room. Well, one step away is technically two more questions, but it still feels so far.
You begrudgingly answer one of the questions then slump back into your seat, burying your head in your arms. You’re so close to freedom, but you still feel held captive by the test, like it’s shackled your arms and legs to your desk while Rudolph down the hall taunts you, dangling the coveted Christmas cheer over your head.
You don’t even care if you get the questions right anymore. You just scribble down some scratch work that seems somewhat coherent and circle whatever answer is closest then shove your test in your teacher’s hands, eager to get that nasty piece of paper away from you. Then you’re left to wait… and wait… and wait.
It’s unfair. You weren’t meant to be doing a math test the last day before winter break. You weren’t built to be suffering silently at your desk because some people didn’t know how to do long division. (Well, neither do you, but that’s besides the point.)
But nevertheless, you wait… and wait… and wait.
And then, finally, the last student turns in their paper.
The second the teacher plops the pile of tests on her desk, you practically spring up from your seat. You revel in the sweet, sweet freedom, but although your classmates seem just as relieved, they also seem painfully slow. That might also just be all the candy from your teacher’s goody bag pumping through your veins, but it made no difference to you.
Acting as self-appointed leader, you hastily motion for other kids in your class to move the tables to either side of the room, forming a sort of tetris with the desks, while others line trays of food across them. The pizzas are laid out next to different bowls of chips and festive little chocolates in the shapes of snowflakes and snowmen. Small Christmas-themed cups sit at the end of the table with giant bottles of bright, sugary drinks for you to choose from. Like, the ones that are bigger than your face. That’s how you know it’s good.
Hushed whispers of excitement make their way around the classroom as everyone settles down, wrapping themselves in the blankets they had brought to school for today. You take a seat next to Jeongin on the carpet right as the teacher switches the projector on, placing your paper plate filled to the brim with junk food in between you two as you get comfortable.
“How many cookies did you grab?!” Jeongin gawks, marveling at the sight. Whether it’s from amazement or concern is unclear.
You smile smugly at him. The light from the projector as your teacher sets up The Polar Express illuminates his baffled stare. “Not enough.”
He blinks once. “We’re not gonna split it?”
You giggle and push the plate closer to Jeongin, but not without swiping a Santa-shaped cookie from the pile. “I never said we weren’t.”
Jeongin just laughs at you and shakes his head, but the fact that he takes not one, not two, but three cookies from the plate tells you he’s just as excited as you. He attempts to remain nonchalant, though, as he wordlessly pushes a plate stacked with pizza towards you.
Grinning at him, you pick up a slice, the grease glinting in the low light. “Thanks,” you mumble as you take a bite.
Rolling his eyes, he continues to laugh. “Don’t mention it.”
There’s something about being next to Jeongin as you watch The Polar Express together, fluffy throw blankets draped around your outstretched legs that catch the crumbs from the snacks you two share, that brings you a sense of comfort. Excitement courses through your body, but somehow, you also feel oddly at peace.
It even seems to transport you to another world, and you forget you had even painstakingly suffered through a math test leading up to this in the first place. Eventually, your mind stops paying attention to the movie—it’s okay, though, because you practically know the story front to back. Instead, you find yourself daydreaming about being awoken in the middle of the night like the boy in the movie, and finding yourself on the fantastical train with Jeongin. A small smile decorates your face as you ponder, imagining all the chaos you could get yourselves into as you made the magical journey to the North Pole together.
However, when the other kids start to gasp and point towards the window, you’re brought back to the real world. Looking over to where they were pointing, you’re greeted with a powdery blanket covering the grass outside, and a grin instantly spreads across your face in delight.
Finally. It’s snowing.
You aren’t the only one to jump up from out of your seat in hopes of rushing outside to experience the first snowfall of winter. And you aren’t the first one out of the classroom door either. The calls from your teacher fade into the background like white noise as you scramble out from under your blanket and make a dash for the door as quickly as you can.
“Y/N,” Jeongin calls right before you can run outside, and you turn on your heel.
He speed-walks, then speeds up to an awkward half-jog to where you stand as he digs his hands through his pockets, and you can’t help but chuckle. It takes him until right after he stops in front of you to fish whatever this thing was out. Was it an early Christmas gift? The dreaded cheese touch? You are about to find out.
A crumpled piece of paper falls out of Jeongin’s coat, grazing his hand as he yanks it out of his pocket. He picks it up and unfolds it carefully, squinting at the note.
Leaning over, you peek over his shoulder and furrow your brows as you try to decipher the writing scrawled on. “’Ask Y/N about Christmas’?” You turn your head to the boy. “What about it?”
Jeongin eyes widen for a second as he tries to remember the context of the note. “My parents wanted me to ask if you wanted to…”
You tilt your head. “Wanted to…?” You repeat.
“What was it that they said?” He mumbles to himself. He looks up, his eyebrows furrowed, and then something seems to click. “Was it… stay? Stay for Christmas?”
You blink, watching the boy with inquisitive eyes. “Stay for Christmas?” you question.
“Yeah, stay for Christmas.” He hums, and his voice grows more confident as he continues. “Yeah, that’s what they said to ask!” He’s now grinning, and his movements become more animated. “Yeah! Stay with us for Christmas Eve! You have to come, Y/N, it’s a Christmas sleepover! It’ll be fun!”
You light up like a, well, Christmas tree at the idea. You could already picture the absolute blast you’re going to have. Chasing each other around in your pajamas as Christmas music rings in your ears? Eating the cookies his mom laid out for Santa until you're sick? Finding the jolly man himself? And imagine playing in the snow in the morning after ripping your presents open!
“That sounds so fun!” You squeal, beaming from ear to ear. “I'll have to ask my parents, but I'm sure they'll let me go!”
“Y/N, Jeongin,” your teacher interrupts your enthusiasm, her arm propping the door open. “You can’t stay inside by yourselves, come on!”
“Coming!” you two call back in unison, and then you glance at each other. You catch a mischievous glint in Jeongin’s eyes before he bolts for the door, outstretching his arm in front of you before you can react and outrun him.
“Race ya!”
“Hey!”
…
“Mommmm! Daddddd!” you drawl out, a frown stretched across your face as you bounce on the balls of your feet. Your finger impatiently hovers over the doorbell, and if your parents took any longer to grab… whatever they brought for Jeongin’s parents, you would just mash the white button yourself. Or you’d teleport yourself inside; forget the doorbell entirely.
You follow their movements attentively, your fists balled around your backpack straps and teeth pressed against your tongue to keep yourself from complaining more. You had already gotten an earful in the car, not to mention some confused glances when you mentioned the long-anticipated sleepover you had stayed up until the ungodly hours of 10pm preparing your backpack for. If they thought that was late for a fourth-grader, imagine their horror if they knew of your and Jeongin’s plan to stay up all night and see Santa Claus!
Regardless, you couldn’t pinpoint why your parents raised their eyebrows and snickered at the idea of you sleeping over at Jeongin’s house. Maybe it was the fact that you had your hair messily thrown up into a ponytail and that your light-up Christmas sweatshirt was maybe a size too big—I mean, say what you want, but you’re perfectly dressed for the occasion.
You were sure that was the reason. And certainly not the fact you were practically jumping out of your skin—maybe acting a little bit too excited—to get inside to see your best friend.
Your parents just didn’t understand that this was a pivotal moment. Plus, you’re getting cold. One can only stand outside for so long.
After what felt like hours of waiting, the door finally swings open to reveal Jeongin’s mother, welcoming you and your parents inside. You release your backpack straps from your grip and sprint past your mother, shouting a “Hi, Mrs. Yang!” as you rip your shoes from your feet.
Shaking your backpack off your shoulders, you make a beeline for Jeongin, who puts down his video game controller when you come into view.
“I made it, Jeongin!” you grin from ear to ear, tossing your backpack aside.
“Yay!” he breaks out into a grin and scoots over.
You plop down at the spot next to him, grabbing the spare controller as you watch the mustached man on screen walk right into a brown mushroom and die. And in World 1-1, you may add.
“Let me on! Let’s get this sleepover started!” you mash the ‘A’ button repeatedly, hoping it somehow speeds up Jeongin getting back to the main menu. Oh, were you ready to kick his sorry butt.
Suddenly, you hear bouts of laughter echo from the hallway. You tear your eyes off the screen, finding your and Jeongin’s parents entering the living room. If it weren’t for the wall that your father leaned against, he would have collapsed to the floor from how hard he was laughing.
“Jeongin, you told Y/N there was a sleepover?!” Jeongin’s mother exclaimed in between giggles.
Jeongin looks up from his game, his eyebrows drawn together. “Yeah?” He blinks, his voice laced with confusion. “That’s what you said to ask?”
His mom laughs even harder at his reply, her hand over her mouth. “Honey sweet, no!”
Jeongin‘s mouth twists into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again.
Mrs. Yang takes a minute to regain her composure before explaining to the boy, “I meant to ask her to stay for the evening, not the whole night.” She tries to keep a straight face, but another giggle slips out. “There’s no sleepover.”
Jeongin looks down, avoiding eye contact with the four adults laughing at his mix-up as heat rises to his cheeks. Dropping his game controller on his lap, he covers his face with his hands, and lets out a nervous chuckle as his face slowly turns red.
You would’ve been lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that you couldn’t try to see Santa with Jeongin, after all. Despite this loss, you try your best not to laugh at your friend, covering up your giggles with awkward coughs to save Jeongin from more embarrassment. You know both his and your parents will never let him live this down.
And frankly, neither will you.
11 years old.
“You son of a nutcracker!” You cry in unison with Buddy the Elf, your mouth stuffed with an audaciously big chunk of cookie. Maybe you got a bit carried away, but you couldn’t help it if someone was kind enough to bring a platter of fresh-baked cookies to the annual neighborhood Christmas party. It might have been the Choi family—the one with the son your age—which makes sense since they’re hosting the party this year.
Looking up from the gingerbread house he was carefully decorating, Jeongin stares at you with a disgusted frown as you struggle to break down the cookie.
You look back at him innocently, trying not to laugh. “Hi,” you wave, your mouth still full.
Jeongin shakes his head at you. “I worry about you sometimes.”
“You should.” You swallow most of the bite, wincing as you feel it go down.
Gulping down the rest of the cookie, you prop your chin in the palm of your hand as you pull your attention away from the tv and watch Jeongin. He bites his bottom lip lightly, glancing back and forth between the gumdrops and peppermints around the island and the gingerbread house. He squeezes out some icing, poking his tongue out in concentration, and sticks a peppermint window to the food structure.
Smiling at his little creation in progress, you gently poke one of the small candy canes that stand around the house. Jeongin quickly pushes your hand away, letting out a small whine.
You chuckle at his reaction and do it again, and he swats your hand away once more. “Stop itttt~”
You giggle and hold your hands up. “Okayyy, okay.”
You silently follow his movements with your eyes before they flick down to his sweater. It’s hideous, as most holiday sweaters are. The cartoon reindeer with a head too big for its body taunts you, but at the same time it just screams Jeongin. But there is no trace of that obnoxious shade of purple, and you thank whatever deity is above you for it.
Jeongin studies the gingerbread house for a moment, gently turning the brown building around. He takes a yellow gumdrop in his hand and hovers it over a spot on the roof, squinting ever-so-slightly as he imagined how it would look in the final product, whatever he imagined it to be. You stay quiet and just let him go—you know better than to interrupt Jeongin’s creative process.
“What if you did rows of gumdrops on the roof?”
Mrs. Choi, on the other hand, doesn’t know better. The one with the son your age, that is—he tagged along with you and Jeongin for lunch a couple times. What was his name again? Beomgyu, right?
You notice the corners of Jeongin’s mouth twitching downward before he catches himself. “I don’t know,” he says, putting the gumdrop down. “I’ll figure it out.”
Mrs. Choi shrugs and just lingers around, mumbling something about how it reminds her of Hansel and Gretel. You thought she had a point… kind of. You had always heard of the tale of Hansel and Gretel and the house made of candy, but considering it wasn’t much of a Christmas story, you tended to ignore it.
“Oh, that reminds me…” she says to herself after a minute, walking over to the dining table where all the parents sat around. You lean over in your seat and listen closely.
“Beomgyu keeps bugging me about having a sleepover with Jeongin,” Mrs. Choi says as she approaches Jeongin’s mom, her voice carrying over the rest of the chatter enough for you to eavesdrop.
Mrs. Yang nods, a small smile playing at her lips. “That'd be fun for them, when can he come over?”
You blink. It’s… it’s that easy for him?
The two mothers begin talking about schedules or appointments or some other boring adult thing. Whatever it is, you tune it out and turn back to Jeongin, who has opted for an array of different colored gumdrops carefully spread across the roof.
“You’re,” you hesitate, “You’re allowed to sleep over with Beomgyu?”
“Yeah,” Jeongin hums. ”I’ve slept over at his place and he’s been begging to come to mine.”
He chuckles, gluing on another gumdrop, until his words sink in and he fully processes them. His eyes then widen in realization, and he lets the tube of frosting drop from his hand before marching over to his parents.
“Mom,” Jeongin taps on his mom’s shoulder until she turns to him. “Why does Beomgyu get to sleep over but Y/N doesn't?”
You lean over again, hoping to overhear an explanation from Mrs. Yang. All you hear is laughter.
Laughter? That’s it?
You squint as you lean further in their direction, as if squinting would increase the volume of the conversation. All you could observe was a confused look from Mrs. Choi, and a fit of giggles from Mrs. Yang. How helpful.
“Did I ever tell you what happened last year?!” your mom practically shouts to Mrs. Choi, proving your efforts unnecessary.
“Oh my god, you have to hear this! It’s a good one, it’s so cute,” Mrs. Yang gushes, glancing at a flustered Jeongin.
The boy frowns and buries his face in his hands, growing more frustrated. “Mommm!”
A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker between the now-insanely-embarrassed Jeongin, and his parents’ delight at retelling the account of ‘stay for Christmas’. As Mrs. Yang continued, Jeongin sinks deeper and deeper into himself, and you could practically see a little pinkish-red aura surrounding him.
“And so he tells her…” Mrs. Yang's voice fades into the background when you look out the window and gasp.
Snow.
Before you can register it, your legs are already pushing yourself off the stool, and then you’re running and shoving past other partygoers as you make your way to Jeongin.
“Jeongin.” You tug on his sleeve as you try to get him to move his hands away from his face. However, he swats your hand away.
“Shut up,” he whines.
“No, look,” you try again, tugging more. “It’s snowing!”
Hands instantly falling from his face, he looks out of the window you were motioning at and gasps as well. “Snow.”
Quickly, you glance at Mrs. Yang, making sure she’s still in in-depth story mode before you grab onto Jeongin’s hand and pull him outside into the cold. You shiver lightly as the winter air nips at your nose, but welcome it nonetheless.
“Wanna make a snowman?” you suggest.
Jeongin shrugs.
“Suit yourself.”
Humming to yourself, you squat down at an empty spot and begin to pile some snow together. A small smile decorates your face, perfectly pairing with your rosy cheeks.
I mean, how could you not be happy right now? It’s the first snow of winter. It may be your third first winter, but you swear each one gets more magical than the last. You know Jeongin would agree, no matter how cranky he may be right now.
“That’s like the fifth time my mom’s told that story this month,” the boy huffs after a minute, kicking at the snow in front of him. “It's not even funny anymore. I was a stupid ten-year-old.”
Looking up from the small base of the snowman, you let out a laugh. “I mean… you were ten last year.”
“Y/NNN,” Jeongin whines.
“And it was kinda funny—”
“Y/N!”
You feel a sudden blast of cold hit your side and you let out a yelp, shielding your face with your arms. Gasping, you look back up after a second to Jeongin preparing more ammunition. Suddenly, you’re in the mood to wipe the shi—sorry, poop-eating grin from your best friend’s face. One nice, cold wipe.
“You ass!” you shriek, gasping and covering your mouth once you realize what you had just said. Thank goodness your mom didn’t hear you or she would’ve brought out the bar of soap.
“That’s what you get!” Jeongin cackles back, hurling another snowball your way. This one also hits your coat, splattering into pieces once it collides with your stomach.
“Oh, it’s on!”
12 years old.
The final bell rings across the school to signal the start of winter break. Students of all types make their way out of the main entrance, leaving you and Jeongin in a rather quiet hallway with your locker still open.
Whilst you clear it out, the fruitful voice of Jeongin’s new club buddy fills your ears.
“‘Sup, babies.”
You and Jeongin jump at not only the sudden voice, but also the feeling of an arm going around both your shoulders. A year older than you, Jisung, whom Jeongin had met through the middle school’s anime club, sports round glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose. His hair is a chestnut brown, split right down the middle to frame his face.
Jeongin shrugs Jisung’s arm off of his shoulders, but his other arm stays around you. “How are my favorite underclassmen?” Jisung coos, reaching around to ruffle Jeongin’s hair.
Jeongin jerks his head away from Jisung’s hand, a groan escaping his lips. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”
“Nope!” Jisung says, flashing the younger boy a dopey grin.
Chuckling, you duck under Jisung’s arm to grab your backpack as Jeongin scrambles to fix his messy hair. You aren’t sure when or why Jisung started referring to you two as ‘babies' when he was only a year older. He once said something about “taking Jeonginnie under his wing” when you first met him, but that’s the closest thing to an explanation that you got.
Once Jeongin manages to tame his hair, he looks at Jisung with a shimmer in his eye. “Did you pick what we’re going to watch next?” he asks, referring to the next club meeting. It wouldn’t be until after New Year’s, but you figured they’d want to plan ahead now while they’re technically still in school.
“Not yet, but I was thinking of going with a classic,” Jisung muses before turning to you. “You should really join us, Y/N.”
You hum in response, pushing your lips into a line as you ponder it. Of course Jeongin had tried to get you to watch anime with him before, but it was just something you found difficult to get into. “Maybe,” is all you say, mostly to make Jisung happy.
“Yeah! Anyway,” Jisung quickly moves the conversation along, slinging his arms around both your shoulders again and pulling you two closer to him. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? We should do something!” He gleams, glancing back and forth between you two. “With our parents’ permission, of course.”
As Jisung gazes longingly at a dog passing by, yours moves to Jeongin and you giggle at the sight of his cheeks tinting pink. He says nothing, but when he looks up and notices you staring at him, he rolls his eyes.
At the silence, Jisung finally tears his eyes away from the dog, who stops at a street pole for a sniff, and looks between you and Jeongin again. “What's up with you two?” he gulps. “You’re acting weird.”
Jeongin makes a sour face. “You’re acting weird,” he tries to rebut, but he only proves Jisung’s point.
Jisung stops suddenly on the sidewalk. He tilts his head at Jeongin and squints, searching the younger’s face. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Jeongin deadpans, turning his heel to continue the walk home.
“Noooo.” The older boy pulls him back by the hoodie before he can walk away. He gets all up in Jeongin’s face, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows suspiciously. “There’s something going on, isn’t there?”
Nosily, you watch as Jeongin opens his mouth to speak before quickly closing it again. He seems to want to shrink into himself, and you both know why. To his dismay, you find it wholly amusing.
“Baby, come onnnn,” Jisung bounces in place as he chants, “Tell me, tell me, tell me…”
Deciding to ignore the boys’ shenanigans, you look up at the clouds and begin to think about your own plans for Christmas, a small smile forming on your lips.
You’ve always loved the holidays, but after settling into your new neighborhood, it grew on you and swept you off your feet like never before. It’s way more than just the snow—it’s the joy swirling in the air when Christmas music finally begins to play on the radio. It’s the sparkle in the night sky when the whole town shows off their colorful lights. Maybe it’s also the inhuman amount of hot chocolate and sugar cookies coursing through your veins. You’re not hyped up on sugar right now, but Jeongin would be hopelessly shaking his head at you if you were.
It’s way more than just beautiful snow, but it seemed to add a magical touch to Christmas that you never felt in your old neighborhood.
It came like clockwork, too, just like the Christmas party, and you’re eagerly counting the days until both come to life for the first time this season. Especially the Christmas party. Your and Jeongin’s schedules only matched up for lunch this year, and you’re in dire need of some quality time with your best friend.
“Y/N?” Jisung gently shakes your shoulder, interrupting your train of thought.
You blink a few times. “Huh? Yeah?”
“What are your plans for Christmas?”
You look back up at the sky, your lips curving upward again. “I’ll be with my family on Christmas. I'm not doing anything much for Christmas Eve, though,” you say with a giggle, emphasizing the ‘eve’. “It depends.”
Jisung continues to look at you—and Jeongin—with an eyebrow raised. “On what?”
You have to take a breath to try and compose yourself before you continue.
“On—”
“Can’t you let it go?” Jeongin cuts you off with a whine. “It was basically two years ago!”
“‘Cause it was two years ago,” you continue to giggle.
Jisung blinks, trying to figure out this inside joke you two are bickering over, but the poor boy is just as confused as when the conversation started. “What was two years ago?”
“Oh my god, Y/N,” Jeongin grumbles, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s failing miserably trying to hide a smile. You just flash your brows at him, and he slides out from under Jisung’s arm and heads straight for you.
A teasing grin grazes your lips, and you gently push Jisung’s arm off of you so you can run away.
“You do this every year!” Jeongin cries out, attempting to reach for your backpack.
“‘Cause it’s funny!” you shout back.
You can feel Jeongin’s fingers brush your shoulders every now and then as he chases after you. Giggles bubble from your throat as you try to make a break for it, tricking him by going the opposite way to where he is. However, he catches on to your attempt to escape and grabs you quickly. His arms wrap securely around you and pull you back as he hugs you, his laughter loud in your ears.
You let out a surprised squeak as you try to wriggle your way out of Jeongin’s grip. “Jeongin, I was kidding, I was kidding!” you cry out in between giggles.
“You always do this!” he giggles too, refusing to let you go.
“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” you squeal. Tears start to prick your eyes from how hard you’re laughing.
Jeongin lets his arms fall and his lip juts out into a pout. You turn to him and quickly match it.
“Sure, you are,” he mutters, enhancing his frown.
“I mean it, Jeonginnieee.” You lean closer and let your arms slip around him. “I'm sorry.”
He stays stiff for a second before he wraps his arms back around you and smiles. “It's okay.”
A high-pitched squeal from Jisung makes you both jump in surprise and let go of each other. You both stare back at Jisung, who wears a giddy grin stretching from ear to ear. His hands are balled up in tiny fists together, flying up to his mouth as he bounces a little in place.
You blink a few times, stunned to silence for a few seconds before finally speaking. “You okay, Jisung?”
“Y-You… the…” Jisung stammers excitedly before trailing off.
He points between the two of you, then to the sky, and as you both follow his finger, a cold wet drop lands on your cheek, and another on your nose. Jeongin lets out a squeak at one hitting him in the eye, and he scrunches up his face at the impact.
You looked back at Jisung, gesturing upward. “The snow?” you finish his sentence.
The older boy nods eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, the snow!”
You want to smile, you really do—it is the first snow of winter, after all. But it seems like he has a different reason for his exuberance than you do.
You exchange a glance with Jeongin, and he seems just as lost as you are. At this point, you might as well just ask. “What about it?”
Was it because the snow was pretty as it dotted the earth below you? Was it because it marked the start of only the most beautiful time of the year? This could really go any direction.
“You know, like the movies?” He rambles. “When the boy and the girl witness the first snowfall together and…”
Oh no, no, no. Not that direction.
Briskly stepping away from each other, you both frantically shake your heads, the tips of your ears glowing red. Jeongin argues back with a string of flustered protests that you could only nod along to, as you were at a loss for words yourself.
You wonder what was in the snow that had fallen on Jisung to make him think this way. It was insane, he was insane. You and Jeongin? Jisung must’ve gone mad.
Jisung deflates a little, a pout pulling his lips downward. “Aww. That would’ve been cute though.”
You force out a chuckle before continuing your route home. Jisung parts ways somewhere halfway through, but an icky feeling persists in your stomach for the rest of the walk.
It truly baffles you how he saw you and Jeongin having an inside joke, you know, like best friends do, and somehow morphed it into some coupley thing all because of a little snow. The snow is beautiful, of course, but throwing that sappy stuff on top of it? Jisung’s watched way too many movies. And anime. An alarming amount of anime.
“I’ll, um,” Jeongin clears his throat as you both approach your front door. “I’ll see you at the party next week.”
An awkward tension still hangs above you from earlier, but you manage to muster a small smile. “Yeah. See you then.”
He smiles back and gives you a little wave before he begins the five-minute walk to his house. But before you knock on your door…
“Wait!” you blurt and reach out for him. You wrap your fingers around Jeongin’s wrist, prompting him to turn around.
“Yeah?”
“That, um, that thing Jisung was saying,” you hesitate, stumbling over your words. You force out another chuckle in hopes to relieve the tension that’s making your stomach twist into knots. “That’s— that’s not gonna happen to us… right?”
Jeongin lets out a scoff, waving you off reassuringly. “Of course not, Jisung’s just being Jisung.” He smiles a little. “We’re best friends, remember?”
His words fill you with relief, and you smile back. “Yeah. The bestest of friends.”
“That’s not a word.”
“You know what I mean, Jeongin.” You chuckle genuinely this time as you roll your eyes, turning back to your front door. “I’ll see you at the party.”
It’s ridiculous that you have to even ask, but apparently it’s necessary. You’re just lucky Jisung listened to Jeongin in the end, or this whole shipping fiasco would’ve been much more difficult than it needed to be.
Especially since several of your classmates who witnessed the interaction in front of the school parking lot actually seemed to believe it.
13 years old.
You nibble at your bottom lip and run one hand up and down your forearm. Jisung has been glaring rather unamused daggers at you for five minutes now, his round eyes perpetually locked on you as you try to focus on the TV. It makes you feel like there was something crawling all over you, and you have the overwhelming urge to itch every bit of exposed skin you had—which isn’t a lot, but still.
Part of you was tempted to turn to Jisung just to try and poke his eyes out. You wouldn’t actually do it, but with his eyes boring into your head like this, it’s hard not to think about it. You just wanted to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas in peace.
“...Are you gonna talk to him? Like, at all?” Jisung speaks.
A small pout plays at your lips and you cross your arms over your chest. “How can I?” you start. “He hasn’t spoken to me since the start of the year.”
The older boy lets out a sigh. “Have you tried to speak to him?”
You nod once. Finally, something he can’t get on your case for.
Jisung blinks. “…Besides at lunch back in April?”
You huff, looking down at your lap. Your knuckles turn white as you ball the fabric of your sweater in your fists. "Well, it was kinda hard to do when he’s always with Beomgyu.”
Jisung leans forward to get a better look at you, whilst he rests his chin on his palm. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous."
You can’t tell if you want to scoff or to laugh. Jealous? You? Of course not. You just wanted to be around your best friend again. To be able to hang out with your best friend of three years without some stupid kid in your grade teasing you about dating or about how ‘oOOoH, yOu’RE sO iN lOvE’. Ever since winter break ended, it was all you ever heard when you were around him.
"I’m not jealous." You raise your voice slightly, pushing him away without moving your gaze away from the cartoon. "He was my best friend first."
"Can you hear yourself when you speak?"
“Can you hear how annoying you are right now?”
Jisung blinks at you again. He pushes himself off the couch and stands in front of you, his gaze more gentle this time. “You know he asks me about you too, right?”
You sigh. It’s probably the fifth time this week that Jisung has reminded you of this. It’s not that you don’t want to believe him, but with the way Jeongin stared at you with hollow eyes the last time you tried to talk to him in the cafeteria eight months ago, you’re not sure if you can.
“Plus, he’s literally…” Jisung continues, spinning you around to where Jeongin sat in the kitchen with Beomgyu. Right where you two sat at the Christmas party two years ago. “…right there.”
“I know,” you huff.
Of course you knew that, and you knew he knew you knew. Jeongin was the first one you recognized when you stepped foot in the Choi house for the party. Sure, part of it was because Jisung frantically shook your arm and pointed him out, but even if he wasn’t there you would’ve spotted the top of his head from a mile away. You would’ve known he hadn’t left his gingerbread house in the kitchen all afternoon, whether or not the coconut-haired boy was there to pester you about it.
”Then gooo,” Jisung chides, pushing you to the kitchen island by the shoulders. “Talk. To him.”
Oddly enough, talking to him is the last thing you want to do. At least, not here. Not when there’s a bunch of adults that, frankly, are nosier than your typical middle schooler. Luckily, the only adult there when you approach the kitchen island only glances at you for a second before stepping past you. No one else is watching, but it still feels like a hundred pairs of eyes are piercing into your skull.
You suck in a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
“Hey.”
Jeongin pushes his lips into a thin line when he looks up at you. “Hi.”
From the corner of your eye, you can see Beomgyu raise his head and look at you both before going back to what he was doing. Rocking on the balls of your feet, you take another deep breath. “How’ve you been? It’s been a while.”
You’re not sure how long Jeongin goes quiet for, but every second of silence makes you feel like your insides are trying to escape from you. You purse your lips as your gaze casts down to your feet, unable to look him in the eye. Why did the friendship between you and Jeongin have to change? Why couldn’t people just keep their mouths shut?
“I’ve been okay,” he mumbles. “Just busy, you know?”
You hum in response. He was right; this year had been a lot school-wise, especially when you counted how everyone watched you like hawks, ready to strike at the first opportunity for a ‘ship moment’, as some people had started to call it.
“Yeah.” You try to laugh, but anyone can tell it’s fake. “Me too.”
Jeongin stays silent again, just nodding at your words. You weren’t sure what heartbreak was and of course, you weren’t in love with him. He is—was—your best friend. But if you had to guess, heartbreak probably feels something close to what you’re feeling right now.
You gulp, and take one more shaky breath. Your bottom lip wavers as you try to get your next words out.
“I…” miss you.
You want to say it so bad, but you stopped yourself as soon as you started. When Jeongin doesn’t turn his head, you feel your heart sink to your stomach, or whatever the equivalent of that was when your best friend completely ignores you, effectively declaring the end of your best-friendship.
You hate this so much. Screw the other kids for getting in the way of your friendship, screw Jeongin for letting them, screw yourself for not doing more to stop it, and screw Jisung for pushing you over to talk to him.
You don’t say anything more as you turn away and solemnly make your way back over to where Jisung is still standing. When you feel tears pool in your eyes, you make a sharp turn for the bathroom, and the older boy worriedly trails after you.
“Baby…” he calls as he follows, quickening his pace to catch up to you. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”
You stop in your tracks, suddenly causing Jisung to bump into you. He leans forward and around your shoulder before taking a step into your view, instantly frowning when he sees the sadness apparent on your face. “Baby…”
“It’s over, Jisung.” You blink rapidly. “We’re never going to be friends again, not after this.”
Furrowing his eyebrows together, Jisung sighs. He places his hands on your shoulders to try and get you to look at him. “Don’t say that, you guys will get past this. You guys are best friends for a reason.”
“No, we won’t.” Your voice shakes as you speak. “You saw how awkward it was back there! There’s no way he wants to be friends anymore… let alone best friends.”
You continue to blink your tears away, but one manages to slide down your cheek. Your breathing becomes ragged as your world feels like it’s crashing down on you, and all you can do is helplessly step closer to Jisung as you hiccup.
“I just want my best friend back.”
Pulling you in, Jisung wraps his arms around you in his attempt to comfort you. He sighs quietly, his own frown on his lips as you choke out a sob.
“I know you do.”
14 years old.
Well, your last year of middle school was off to a surprisingly pleasant start.
After years of being told where in the classroom you could sit, your 1st period teacher nearly had you jumping for joy when she said you were free to pick your seat for the year. It was such a minute detail to be in control of, but it felt so freeing to your adolescent self.
The only problem: you don’t know anyone in this class. You vaguely recognize two or three faces from last school year, but even they had gravitated to other students in the class, clustering into their already-established friend groups. It’s like the galaxies in the night sky that you learned about last year, and you’re a lone star, floating around in the abyss called your new English classroom.
Shrugging to yourself, you scoot past some students in the aisles and pick a seat in the middle of the room in between two other empty desks. You had counted ten or so desks that had yet to be filled, so you figured you should take your chances. You don’t know anyone… at least, for now. Maybe someone will show up later.
Sliding your phone out of your pocket, you plug your headphones into your ears and listen to music for the last few minutes of passing period to relax a little. It quickly feels pointless, though, as the chatter in the classroom overpowers the song blasting right by your eardrums.
However, one voice seems to ring above all the others.
“Um… is this seat taken?”
You take an earbud out, lifting your head to find the source of the voice. Jeongin stands over the chair to your left, adorning a god-awful purple sweater that reminds you of the one he wore when you first met. It almost brings a smile to your face… almost. It probably would have if things had ended differently between you two.
This is the first time you have spoken to him since The Most Awkward Conversation Of Your Life™. Maybe you were being slightly dramatic, or at least that’s what Jisung had told you for weeks after the incident, but you still stood by what you felt. You weren't sure if you and Jeongin could ever get back to the way you were—not having spoken since that moment kind of proved to you that you couldn’t.
Yet here you are. You’re not sure if this will just be a one-off conversation or a second chance of sorts. But after a moment, you decide to take that chance.
“Go for it.” You gesture to the seat.
Jeongin smiles awkwardly, the tips of his ears pink as he sets his backpack down on the floor. He doesn’t move to get any of his things out of his bag, and just sits there with laser-focus on his hands that rest on top of his desk.
You’re not sure how long you two sat in silence, but thankfully, it feels nothing like the last time. It actually feels…. comfortable. Welcoming, even. Almost like when you first met him at the monkey bars.
Jeongin looks over at you after a few moments, still rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. “So… how are you?” he finally speaks.
It’s then that you notice just how much deeper Jeongin’s voice has gotten since the last time you spoke. You figure it would make sense; you hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and a lot can happen in said year. It’s still odd, however—seeing him change, but not being there to experience it with him.
You nod, looking down at your own hands, but you let a small smile slip out. “I’m okay.”
You are okay, really, at least for the moment. But now you knew you would be, for sure.
…
“Who wants the last cookie—” Mrs. Yang calls from the kitchen, but she’s quickly cut short.
“ME!”
You and Jeongin spring up from the couch at the same time, giggling as you push past each other and race to the kitchen. At the last second, Jeongin sticks his arm in front of you just as you come in reach of the cookie, barring you from the baked treat as he swipes it with his free hand.
“Hey!” You cross your arms, biting your lip to stifle more giggles from coming out. “You cheated!”
Jeongin doesn’t even try to hide the cocky smirk on his face. “Oh, you love me anyway.”
You narrow your eyes at the boy. “Do I? Do I really?”
Jeongin only stares back at you, blinking a few times before he bites into the cookie. Right. In. Front of you.
Your jaw drops in betrayal. What an asshole, he knew you loved those cookies more than life itself! If you had to choose, though, you highly preferred this over where you two were a year ago. He may be stealing your cookies like the pubescent raven-haired crook he is, but since it comes with being best friends again, you’ll learn to live with it.
You keep your eyes trained on him as you calculate your next move. You know exactly how to get him back for this, but is it worth it? Was waiting only a few months after recovering your friendship enough time?
Oh, who are you kidding—of course it was.
“Two can play that game,” you state, taking a piece of cookie from his hand.
The boy scoffs. “Oh, really?”
Your eyes widening ever-so-slightly, you bite into the cookie. You keep your gaze on him as you chew, not looking away even for a second, and you say the three magic words—even more magic than ‘please.’
“Stay for Christmas?”
His smirk immediately drops, and one of your own plays at your lips. You know you got him.
“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” he grumbles.
You just swipe another piece of cookie from his hand, still grinning triumphantly. “To be fair,” you swirl the cookie in your hand for emphasis, “you walked right into it.”
Jeongin sighs, watching you toss the last bit of the cookie into your mouth. “There's nothing I can do to make you forget it, huh?’
“Nope,” you say with your mouth full. “Not unless you do something more quote-worthy.”
“Fine, then stay.”
You freeze, your cheeks still full of chewed-up cookie. “What?”
“You heard me, Y/N.” Jeongin steps closer, not breaking eye contact. “Just stay for Christmas. It’d be fun, and at least then, you’d have nothing to try and tease me with.”
You swallow the dessert in your mouth and stare at him, speechless. All this time, you had been just playing along with the line as a joke. Was it actually possible to have a sleepover with him? You almost smile as you ponder it over in your head. Being all cooped up in his room and kicking his ass at Mario Kart, then scrambling to be in bed by midnight as if Santa would actually appear the second the clock strikes twelve? You don’t have to think twice.
“Honey sweet, you and Y/N are still on that?” Mrs. Yang says, turning her head to look at you two from the sink.
Jeongin groans. “Yeah, mom, and why do you still call me that?!”
His mother just chuckles and turns back to the dishes she’s rinsing. From what you could gather, she doesn’t seem opposed to you sleeping over. It wasn’t a yes, but it certainly wasn’t a resounding no, so you jump to make a beeline for your parents and beg them to let you stay overnight.
Unfortunately, your parents have a more straightforward answer for you. Not even the growing piles of snow outside could save you from going back home at the end of the night.
You also receive quite the lecture about “the dangers of staying over at boys’ houses” on the way home. Their words fly in one ear and the other for you. If this was anyone else, it’d be different, but this is your best friend that they’re talking about.
The only time Jeongin ever laid a hand on you was during the grand battle of Rainbow Road when you were eleven. In his defense, he didn’t mean to push you so hard that you fell off the bed and nearly dislocated your shoulder, but that’s what happens when two of the most competitive people you know go head-to-head in a battle of Mario Kart.
You huff. At least you know actually staying for Christmas might be an option one day.
15 years old.
You peek around the edge of your locker door every so often as you shove various notebooks into your bag. Even when you finished packing up, you busy yourself with pretending to wipe specks of dust off your binder, and checking that you chose the correct textbooks to bring home with you for the fifth time in three minutes.
Another minute or so passes and you check the clock on your phone, then you look past your locker door one more time, slowly leaning over until one eye peeps past the edge. You find Jeongin speaking to one of his teachers as they exited their classroom, waving goodbye as he heads closer to you.
You smile to yourself, then scan the area around you one more time. The coast seems clear, but you decide to give it one more minute before going over to him, just to be safe.
“You’re doing that again?”
You jump and turn on your heel, nearly hitting your head against your locker door. Jisung stands behind you as he watches you incredulously, backpack slung over one shoulder as he leans against the wall of lockers. His arms are crossed as he raises an eyebrow at you, and his features are twisted into an odd mixture of concern and confusion.
You look back at the main hallway, then back at Jisung. “Um… yeah,” you state, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “Is there a problem?”
Jisung just snickers at your confidence. “Babe, honey, sweetie,” he says. You roll your eyes at the endless string of nicknames. “You look ridiculous.”
“I do not!” you scoff defensively.
He leans closer to you, his wide eyes boring into yours. “Is this about a booooy?” he teases jokingly.
You grimace in his direction, delivering a flick to his forehead as you pretend to rummage through your locker again. “You know what it’s about, Ji,” you grumble.
He’s technically not wrong. It is about a boy, but it’s not about a boy. There’s a huge difference—especially when the boy in question was Jeongin.
“You still look ridiculous.” He props an arm against the locker wall. “It’s like you want people to think you’re dating.”
You sigh, slamming your locker shut. “You don’t get it, people will stare if we don’t do this. Plus, our system’s worked for almost a semester already.”
“Y/N, this almost looks more suspicious than if you two just acted normally.” Reaching out a hand, he turns you by the shoulders to face him. “Is this peeking thing really necessary?”
You let out an agitated huff at his constant questioning. The nearly-unreadable grimace makes a return to Jisung’s face, and you know it is there to stay until you explain yourself. It seems pretty simple to you, though.
You see, once middle school came to a close, you saw a window for a fresh start in high school. Any indications of The Incident™ (the former name had become a mouthful for you to repeat every time) were to die with the remnants of your braces phase and short-lived obsession with rainbow loom bracelets and 5 Seconds of Summer, as far as you were concerned. So, accordingly, you and Jeongin had devised a plan to prevent those dreaded “ship moments” from repeating themselves in high school.
Since most of your time together at school wasn’t in actual classes, you and Jeongin agreed to sit separately for bus rides to and from school, sometimes even opposite ends of the bus if necessary. On the way to school in the mornings, you two figured it was safe to walk together to the bus most days. Your neighborhood was one of the first stops and the few kids on the bus when you get on are usually snoring in the back. As long as you and Jeongin sat across from each other near the front and didn’t wake them up, you figured you’d be fine.
However, after school, you had to be fast. Ideally, you’d meet up with Jeongin when the hallways were less crowded than right when the final bell sounds, but when enough students were still hanging around the corridors that it wouldn't raise eyebrows with the school staff. You’d meet, speed-walk to the buses together, and enter separately. Once you pulled up at your stop, you two would depart and walk separately—until your bus turned the corner, then you’d walk each other home. It sounded like a lot, yeah, but after a while you get used to it.
After months of practice, you found that the most optimal time to pull this off was around five to eight minutes after the bell. Eight minutes was pushing it, but as long as you and Jeongin made a run for it, you wouldn’t miss your ride home. You had it down to a science. Jisung had no reason to worry, but he always seemed to find one.
Despite this, you don’t want to bother explaining the system you and Jeongin had perfected over the semester, again—the last time you did, it only raised more questions. So this time, you simply wave a hand in dismissal. “Yes, it’s necessary,” you deadpan, “you wouldn’t understand.”
Jisung blinks, then lets out an exhausted sigh. “If you insist…”
The older boy trails off, just in time for the younger one to appear at your side. “Hey, guys,” Jeongin chirps, waving at you both.
You smile at him briefly before turning to Jisung. “Do you have any other questions before we go?” you ask, your voice dripping in (mostly) feigned annoyance.
“No, but I probably will later.” The older brunet waves at one of his friends from anime club before looking back at the two of you one more time. “You two should go catch your bus, get home safe, yeah?”
You both nod, giving him a thumbs up as he jogs over to his friend, and you and Jeongin make your own jog for the front doors of the school.
You’re immediately greeted with a gray cloudy sky and you instantly feel the cold swirl around you. There are crowds of people littered around each section, waiting for their own respective buses. It doesn’t faze you in the least, though.
You had months of practice under your belt—years, actually, if you included shoving past couples in the school hallways who seemed to walk like they were floating on the moon. To this day, you never understood the appeal of holding up foot traffic for your fifth kiss goodbye of the hour, but whatever. Just like how other teenagers always mysteriously seemed to stop right in front of you just as you were dashing full speed for math class, you always seemed to find a way through the crowd.
It was simple, really. Like, actually simple compared to your aforementioned plan. Just keep your eyes straight ahead, and somehow, people always seem to clear a path for you. Despite your current plight, you and Jeongin have yet to miss your bus since the start of high school.
And that’s what you do. You take the lead in pushing through the masse of students, most of which are chatting amongst their friends as they meander to their ride home. Normally, you and Jeongin would talk a bit on the way, too, but you had hit the eight-minute mark thanks to your encounter with Jisung, so you had to book it.
You keep your gaze locked in front of you, only turning back occasionally to make sure you didn’t lose Jeongin in the crowd. As predicted, students who aren’t otherwise in a hurry move out of your way. You let out a small sigh of relief at this; it’s one less thing you needed to worry about as you got closer to your bus.
Next: enter separately.
By the time you and Jeongin navigate your way out of the crowd and to bus #143, you find a line of students waiting to board that stretches the length of the bus itself. You groan, but at least you wouldn’t be stranded at school, so you consider this a win.
But still, you keep your unwritten pact in mind and you gesture for Jeongin to line up. “You go first,” you mumble, gently pushing him to the end of the line and you step back to wait another minute.
Jeongin turns back to you. “Aren’t you gonna get in line too?”
You stuff your hands in your pockets and quickly scan the line. You recognize the girl in front of him from math class, and two kids from the group of boys that just got behind Jeongin used to tease you two in middle school. “Not yet,” you shake your head. “It’s not safe.”
He furrows his brows together, his lips pulling downward. “You’re shivering,” he deadpans.
Now that he mentioned it, you realize you’re jumping in place in an attempt to warm up. It’s cold outside and you’re eager to leave, but you don’t mind waiting a little longer.
After moments of hesitation, Jeongin removes a hand from his hoodie pocket and grabs your forearm, making sure your hands stay in your own pockets as he pulls you to him. “Just get in line, Y/N,” he mumbles, “the sooner you get in line, the sooner we can get out of the cold.”
With wide eyes, you immediately step back. “Are you crazy?!” you hiss. “People are gonna talk!”
“So? Let them.”
Jeongin’s words ring in your head as he pulls you back towards him one more time.
You let out a gasp when you feel your body collide with his. You blink a few times to recompose yourself and stare up at him, your mouth agape. “What’s gotten into you?”
Jeongin makes a face to himself as he responds, “What’s gotten into you?”
“You know what got into me.” You give him a dubious look. “The agreement, the one we both agreed on?”
Jeongin hums, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks back over to watch the line. “Who cares?”
“I thought you did…”
His gaze burning into your skin makes you want to shrink away. Only a few months ago, he was dead set on this agreement, but now? What changed and so suddenly, at that?
“Why should we let them try to ruin our friendship?” Jeongin asks after a beat of silence. “They already tried once, and look what happened. We shouldn’t let them again.”
You freeze yet again at his words, so much that the boy has to drag you onto the bus with him. His hand on your forearm is enough to snap you out of your haze, and for some reason, it’s all you can focus on.
You feel him let your arm go after a minute, and you look over at him. He slings his backpack off his shoulders and places it by his feet as he settles into the window seat, then looks back at you. “Aren’t you gonna sit down?” he says in a similar tone as earlier, patting the empty spot next to him.
“Um…”
Jeongin looks at you expectantly. It was tempting. it really was. But you catch a familiar wisp of curly hair as the group of boys from behind you two turn the corner and strut down the aisle.
You hesitate, before sharply turning on your heel. “I’ll just sit a few rows back,” you mumble.
“Oh my god, Y/N.”
Another surprised yelp leaves your lips as Jeongin pulls you out of the aisle. He tugs you by your hoodie sleeve this time, and when the group of boys walk past you, he lets his grip loosen and you feel his palm rest on your forearm again. It’s warm against your skin and you almost don’t want him to move it, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud.
The boy glances at the seat next to him, then back at you, his eyes almost weary. “Just sit, please.”
You peer over your shoulder as the group of boys collectively take their seats in the last two rows of the bus. Sighing, you supposed that it’s far enough that you would be safe, and allow yourself to plop on the torn blue leather.
“See, it’s not so bad, is it?” Jeongin smiles at you reassuringly. “No one’s gonna talk, we’ll be fine.”
He pats your forearm twice before bringing his hand back onto his lap. You almost frown at the move.
The last of the students file in after a couple more minutes and the bus slowly pulls onto the road. Jeongin leans his head against the dirty window as he plays Doodle Jump on his phone, and you mindlessly watch him try to beat his high score.
You don’t know how much time passed when the bus abruptly stops, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. The two of you are thrown forward as the driver suddenly slams the brakes, and Jeongin instinctively grabs your arm to keep you from falling. You don’t, luckily, but you do bump into him.
“Ahh, sorry!” you exclaim.
Jeongin shakes his head, as if to say it’s okay. “Are you okay?”
He gives your forearm a gentle squeeze before letting go. You follow his hand as it falls back on his lap, before meeting his gaze and nodding slightly. “Yeah–” you hesitate for a second, looking down at his hand again then back at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
You nod once, giving him a tight smile before settling down properly. That is, until you catch white flecks falling outside from the corner of your eye. It takes a second to click, but once it does, you turn to the window in a flash, eyes sparkling at the view outside.
“Jeongin,” you squeal, shaking him by the shoulder and you point to his right. “Look!”
The boy slides his phone in his pocket and a grin of his own appears as he looks out the window, seeing the snowflakes blanket the outside world for the first time this winter. Leaning past Jeongin to peer outside, your smile grows even more cheerful. All you need now is a mug of hot chocolate filled to the brim with whipped cream as you curl up on the couch and put on one of your beloved Christmas movies. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be home for a while, so this would have to do for now.
“I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, but,” Jeongin starts after a minute, a chuckle escaping his lips, “the snow always starts when we’re together.”
“Really?” you question.
He nods, his eyes focused on what seemed to be the most interesting bush in the world to him, and he smiles. “Yeah.”
You’re not sure if it was instinct or the cold that made you want to sit closer to Jeongin. You try not to think about it.
“It's just a coincidence,” you attempt to laugh. “You can’t really predict the weather.”
“I don’t know,” Jeongin muses, clicking his tongue. “If Jisung was here right now, he’d be losing his mind.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “That boy lost his mind ages ago. We just spend a lot of time together, of course we’re gonna see the first snow together at least once.”
Jeongin shrugs his shoulders beside you, then it goes silent. You aren’t sure how long for, and you just quietly watch the white crystals of snow hit the glass window.
You feel Jeongin lean into you slightly after another moment. “That reminds me…”
You hum, looking over at him.
His smile curls into a playful smirk. “Stay for Christmas?”
You gape at him with an amused grin. Jeongin? Saying the line himself, unprompted? Who was this boy in front of you? “I thought you hated that line.”
Jeongin shrugs again, a smile still playing on his lips. “Eh, it kinda grew on me.” He pauses for a moment then speaks again. “But seriously, do you want to?”
Your brain goes static for a second. “As in, stay for Christmas? Like, for real?” He nods, and you deflate, slumping in your seat. “You know they’ll just say no.”
The hopeful smile on Jeongin’s face also fades, recalling your failed attempt last year. “I know,” he said, “but maybe it’s worth another try?”
You press your lips into a thin line, keeping your gaze down as you shrug. “We can if you want.”
Once the bus pulls up at your stop, Jeongin walks you home, but not without going inside with you to find your parents. With a reassuring hand on your back, he helps you plead your case to your parents, but as you feared, they shut you down quicker than last time.
Jeongin sends you a sad smile as he heads home that day, leaving you to mentally prepare for the hell you’re about to receive from your mother the minute the door clicks shut behind him.
16 years old.
“One, two…” your mother counts slowly as she tries her best to fit the both of you on her screen. “Get a bit closer together, guys,” she ushers you with one hand.
You huff but follow her order, and step closer to the boy next to you. “Mom, don’t you have enough photos?”
A chuckle leaves your mom's lips as she continues to take more, now at different angles. “There’s never enough photos, sugarplum!”
Jisung snorts from beside you at the nickname and you send your elbow right into his ribs to get him to shut up.
“Y/N!” your mother scolds. “Don’t be so mean, he’s being nice and taking you! Heaven knows he didn’t need to.”
“Mom!” you gasp in surprise.
“Yeah, sugarplum,” Jisung says mockingly, faking a pout as he looks down at you.
You glare up at the older boy and silently hiss. You knew this would be a bad idea, but this is still better than what you were originally going to do: go to winter formal on your own. Especially since Jeongin had his own date.
“Okay, okay,” your mother says as her gaze focuses back onto her phone. “Last ones.”
“You have plenty,” you mutter through gritted teeth.
Your mother finally lowers her phone and slips it into her oversized cardigan pocket. “Bring her home by midnight, okay? No funny business!” She borderline-chastises Jisung, and you give her a look. She’s known Jisung for years at this point, it was almost as bad as if she lectured Jeongin himself.
Luckily for you, Jisung plays along, drawing two fingers to his brow and flicking his wrist to salute. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Okay,” you start quickly as you hastily grab Jisung’s wrist. “We gotta go, bye!”
With that, you drag Jisung out of the door and to his car before your mother can get another word in.
“Whoa there, sugarplum, calm down,” Jisung sings, “we have all the time in the world.”
“Would you let that nickname go, please?” you groan.
Jisung unlocks his car as he walks around to the driver's seat, laughing loudly. “Never, baby.” With the car open, he stares at you and taps his temple. “That puppy is locked into the memory banks for life.”
You roll your eyes for the nth time, open the door, and let it slam behind you as you plop onto your seat with crossed arms, Jisung’s laughter filling your ears as he follows your actions. Igniting the engine, he turns the heaters to full blast and rubs his hands together to try and gain some heat.
“You good?” you ask, watching him blow hot air onto his hands.
He hums and nods his head, and turns the heaters down shortly after. “I like the car to be toasty, okay? I want to feel like a marshmallow.”
“...A marshmallow?”
Jisung nods again affirmingly. “A marshmallow.”
“I don’t even want to know,” you shake your head in amazement and look away from him.
“We’re picking Innie up first, right?” Jisung asks, his attention now on the road as he backs the car out of your driveway.
“Yeah,” you hum. “His date is meeting him there.”
After that it goes silent, partly because Jisung needs his full attention to drive, but also because there just isn’t much to say. You’re surprised Jisung hasn’t taken this time alone with you to grill and interrogate you, but maybe he had turned over a new leaf, changed his ways.
It seems more likely, however, that you just thought too highly of him, especially when he asks you about it in the next moment.
“So, how do you feel about Jeongin having his own date?”
You turn your head to look at him. “Don’t you have the road to focus on?”
“Don’t deflect, baby,” he hums. “You can’t answer a question with a question.”
“You can’t answer a question with a question,” you mimic, tightening your arms around your chest.
“Now you’re just being obnoxious,” he says, which causes you to whine and throw your head back.
“Why are you even asking me? It’s fine, so what if he has his own date? I don’t care.”
“Kinda seems like you do,” Jisung sings.
“I don’t,” you spit back a second too quickly.
“Look at my face.” Jisung takes one hand, motions around his face, and sends a look towards you before focusing back on the road. “Does this face look like one that would believe your bullshit?”
“Your face looks dumb and like you’d believe any type of bullshit,” you mutter, your arms still crossed.
“Now, I know you’re only saying that because you’re annoyed at me for pointing out the obvious.” Jisung laughs. “It's okay, I forgive you and I know I’m the most handsome guy you’ve ever laid your eyes on.”
“You need to get your ego checked.”
Pulling up at the corner of Jeongin’s street, Jisung places the car in park. “The things I do for this friendship,” he sighs dramatically as he pulls out his phone to text Jeongin.
You shake your head, keeping your gaze out the window. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I think you misspelled the word ‘genius’, sugarplum.”
You side-eye the older boy, whose smug smile is illuminated by the light emitting from his phone. “I wasn’t spelling anything.”
“Misspoke, then.” Jisung locks his phone and looks at you innocently. “Same thing. Jeongin’s on his way.”
“Not the same thing,” you mumble before you nod your head. “Okay, but how is he going to sneak out in a suit?”
The sudden thought came to your mind. Jeongin had family come in from out of town for this large family party, which admittedly, he didn’t want to be there for. However, his family would definitely notice if he just walked out of the house in a tux.
“That's where my genius comes in,” Jisung smirks and points to the back seat. “Emergency tux.”
You look back and there is, in fact, a tuxedo folded neatly on the middle seat along with a belt to match, ready for Jeongin to wear for the formal. You stare at it for a moment too long before your gaze settles on Jisung. “What emergency is there where you need a tux?”
The older boy shrugs and makes a face. “A fancy one?”
You blink as you look at him, but you couldn’t stop the side of your lips turning up into a smile. “I really don’t get you sometimes.”
His confident grin makes your own grow wider. He leans forward slightly and ruffles your hair with one hand, causing you to groan before flipping down the sun visor and looking in the tiny mirror on the back of it as you try to fix it.
Jisung laughs as he watches you. “It's okay, you can say how amazing I am and how much you love me, you don’t have to pretend.”
Whilst fixing your hair in the mirror, your mouth twists into a disgusted frown and you send him a glare. “I repeat what I said earlier, you need your ego checked.”
“You’ll admit it one day,” he jokes.
You close the visor back up. “Not gonna happen.”
Before Jisung has the chance to say anything else, the right back door opens up. Jeongin throws himself in and sighs contentedly at the warmth that surrounds him. After a moment, he opens his eyes and smiles at the both of you sitting in the front. “Hey, guys!”
“Hi,” you smile.
Jisung smiles too and points to the suit behind him, which makes Jeongin clap his hands in delight. “Emergency tux?” he says.
Jisung clicks his tongue, sending a wink and a finger gun the younger boy’s way. “Emergency tux, baby.”
With furrowed eyebrows, you blink at the boys. “What is it with you and emergency tuxes? Seriously, what would you even need an emergency tux for?”
“A fancy emergency,” Jeongin answers matter-of-factly, which causes Jisung to point at him and nod.
“See, he gets it!” he agrees. “Hey, without that emergency tux, Innie would be going in sweats to the formal. Wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”
You roll your eyes and look away from them. “Guess not.”
“See, Y/N?” Jisung reaches over to ruffle your hair again, and you successfully duck your head away this time. He chuckles and draws his hand back, shifting the gear to drive and bringing his attention back to the road. “There's a method to my madness.”
You just huff, slumping back in your seat in defeat as he turned the car around.
“Wait,” Jeongin pipes up as Jisung straightens out the wheel, “how am I supposed to change?”
“As I said, there’s a method to my madness.,” Jisung says, perhaps a bit too confidently as he pulls out of the street. “Just give me a minute.”
You narrow your eyes at Jisung, who keeps a straight face as he drives. You almost hate it more than his smug smile from a few minutes ago. At least then, you had the slightest clue to what he was thinking. The fact that the car is silent, save for the quiet Christmas music on the radio, does nothing to calm your worries.
Unfortunately, it looks like your gut feeling was right as you realize Jisung is pulling into a stop just right outside your neighborhood.
“Here you go,” Jisung announces proudly, placing the car in park again. “Changing time!”
Your eyes bulging out of your head, you snap your head to Jisung. “Are you insane?!” you hiss. “We’re in public!”
The older—but you were very hesitant to say wiser—boy shrugs. “He’s gotta do it somewhere! It’s either here or the school parking lot.”
“You didn’t think about a gas station?!”
“Guys, it’s fine,” Jeongin says, his voice wavering slightly as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Just... just don’t look, please.”
You cover the sides of your eyes as you keep your gaze out the window. Every now and then, you hear Jeongin hit something in the back, causing him to groan in pain and Jisung to holler at his misery.
This goes on for almost a minute before you hear the gear shift click. Keeping your hands around the sides of your eyes, you glower at Jisung, who smirks deviously as he pulls the lever to drive. “Don’t. You. Dare,” you grumble.
“Oh, watch me,” Jisung snickers, tapping his foot on the gas.
“Hey! I’m not done yet!” Jeongin shouts as the car inches forward, sending Jisung into another fit of laughter.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”
Jisung abruptly hits the brake, causing Jeongin to shriek as he thuds against the back of your seat. The older boy lets out another cackle at this, clapping his hands as he throws his head back. He glances at you in hopes that you’re just as amused, but you only glare at him.
He lets out a drawn-out but satisfied sigh, and puts the car in park again. “Ahhh, that was fun.”
You stay silent, maintaining your pointed stare.
“Chillax, Y/N.” He nudges your shoulder, but remains overly cheerful even though you don't budge. “Ooh, look! Snow!“
You blink. As tempting as it is to take your eyes off of him, something in your gut begs you not to.
“I’m serious!” Jisung cries again, pointing fervently in front of him.
You sigh and turn your head slightly. At least he wasn’t lying about the snow, although it does seem lighter this year. A few snowflakes trickle down here and there, but it’s nowhere near enough to obstruct the view outside. And it definitely isn’t enough to keep Jisung from starting and stopping the car one more time, sending Jeongin crashing into the back of your seat again and proving your worries correct.
“I’m gonna kill you,” the younger boy scowls, and you lean over to flick the older one on the forehead.
“Agh!” Jisung slaps your hand away, stifling a giggle. “Okay, okay! I'm done now!”
“You better be,” Jeongin grumbles.
After a few minutes, he gasps. “Done,” he says, and you drop your hands from either side of your eyes.
You look in the rearview mirror, Jeongin in full view as he adjusts his tie. Sure, the suit was a size too big, and the jacket almost slipped off the ends of his shoulders, but he somehow seemed to make it work. You couldn’t explain how, it just has this charm that perfectly complements the sweet but awkward boy you’ve grown so fond of. It’s so incredibly Jeongin, and it makes you smile like a dope.
But as he runs his hands through his hair, in desperate attempts to fix it, you feel your breath hitch in your throat. That… was new. And different. By now, one would look away, but for some reason, you can’t.
That is, however, when you notice Jisung’s eyes are locked on you, his eyebrows ever-so-slightly raised in amusement. You look down at your hands as you feel your cheeks get hot. Now that was another thing you’d have to explain to the older fool. Great.
Snow continues to fall from the sky as Jisung resumes the drive to school, but it never goes past a light sprinkle. It wasn’t even enough to coat the ground in that fluffy, white blanket you had grown accustomed to in the last few years. Every so often, the older boy glances over at you, catching you lingering at the rearview mirror as Jeongin uses his phone camera to fix his hair. It only makes you sink lower and lower into your chair, and you resort to keeping your eyes on your lap for the rest of the ride.
You don’t look up again until you feel the car stop and hear the gear shift click back into park.
“We’re here,” Jisung announces in a singsong voice.
“I can tell,” you grumble, recognizing the dimly lit courtyard in front of you.
“There she is!” Jeongin seems to have spotted his date and he squeaks, checking himself in the rearview mirror one last time. “Do I look okay?” he asks, a hopeful smile on his face.
You both turn back to look at him. You open your mouth to speak but can’t get anything out, and you find yourself stupidly staring at him again.
“You look great, Jeongin.” Jisung smiles over his shoulder. He glances at you for a second, flashing his eyebrows at you, and you turn back around in embarrassment. “Now gooo, she”s waiting!” He winks at the younger boy, ushering him out of the car.
Jeongin chuckles, smoothing out his oversized suit once more before he leaves. You keep your gaze out the windshield the whole time, staring at nothing in particular, but you notice that the snow stops entirely once Jeongin wraps his arms around his date and escorts her inside.
You feel your breath get caught in your throat again. “We–” you start, then pause to clear your throat. “Yeah, we should get going, too.”
Keeping your eyes locked in place, you blindly reach down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You’ve never felt more suffocated in a vehicle in your life and everything inside you was screaming at you to get out.
But Jisung, ever-persistent, seemed to be working against you all evening. He reaches over, gently grabbing your arm before you can touch the door handle. “Uh, uh, uh, you’re not going anywhere.”
You silently groan in your mind as you turn to face him with a sour look. “What do you want?”
His mouth curls up into a smirk. “What was that just now?”
“What was what just now?”
You tilt your head, your eyebrows furrowed with your lips pursed together. No matter how hard you try to keep a straight face, it only seems to egg him on more.
“You know what I’m talking about.” Jisung nudges you repeatedly, his smirk growing wider. “That whole staring at Innie thing! It’s almost like you just realized how in love you are with him.”
A scoff escapes your lips almost instantly. Seeing Jeongin in that suit was… an experience, to say the least, but to go as far as to say you were in love with him?
That said, it doesn’t surprise you that this all came from the guy who genuinely believed his crush would ask him out at midnight if he made a wish and forwarded a poorly-formatted copypasta to seventeen people. Bless his heart, but you’re smarter than that.
Really, you couldn’t pinpoint what sucked the breath out of your lungs when you laid eyes on Jeongin in the rearview mirror. All you could caulk it up to was some ill-timed coming-of-age epiphany: you two were sixteen now, and you could do things the sixteen-year-olds in movies do all the time. It’s a strange pill to swallow, but unlike Jeongin, it didn’t even occur to you that you could’ve asked someone out to winter formal. Everyone else your age seemed to jump at the chance, but a small part of you figured you and Jeongin would’ve gone together—as friends, of course.
Of course, you know Jisung wouldn’t buy that answer, so you had to think of something else. Something more his style.
“That’s— that’s not what happened.” You take a breath then wave him off with your hand as you continue. “It's just the tuxedo effect, it’ll be gone in the morning.”
You turn to get out of the car (again), hoping Jisung would leave it at that, but he leans over (again), grabbing your hand this time.
“No, no, no, sugarplum, you aren’t getting away that easily.”
You want to scream. Praying for the earth to swallow you whole sounds good, too. Anything over facing Jisung, whose eyebrows are raised as he nosily rests his chin on his palm.
“Spill.”
You lightly push him away from you as you sigh. “What is there to spill? It’s…” You pause, before continuing in a rushed mumble. “It's when you find someone attractive because of the fact that they’re wearing a suit.”
Jisung blinks a number of times before he bursts into laughter.
“That’s so bullshit! Finding someone attractive just because they’re wearing a suit?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “That's insane.”
“Oh, so magical snow makes complete sense, but finding someone attractive because of a suit doesn’t?”
“It’s not magical snow, it’s fate and romance all twisted into one!”
“Whatever, you’re hopeless.” You throw your hands up in defeat. “My point still stands: it’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
The main doors capture your attention and your eyes linger on it as multiple other students filter in and out of the formal. Your shoulders tighten and an unexplainable uneasy feeling makes a home for itself in your chest.
“I thought this was what you wanted…” Jisung starts, his gaze following yours, “for people to not think you guys were dating.”
“It’s not that,” you respond quietly.
“Then what is it?” he asks, matching your tone.
“It’s just…” you begin. “It’s weird to think he’s at the age where he’s actually thinking about liking someone and dating people.”
“But you know what that means?” Jisung asks, prompting you to break your staring contest with the school doors and look at him. “It also means you’re old enough to do the same thing: date and move on.”
You scoff, open the car door, and put one foot out, ready to leave. “I don’t know what you’re on about, shut up.” You get up and let the door swing closed behind you.
Jisung quickly follows suit and makes his way around the front of his car and over to you. He places one hand on one of your shoulders, as the other delicately moves some of the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear.
“I’ll stop bothering you about this, yeah?” he says, his voice more gentle than teasing this time. You could count the number of times he’s spoken to you like this on one hand. “At least, I’ll stop for now. And if Jeongin won’t tell you, then I will—you look absolutely beautiful.”
Gently lifting your chin with two fingers, Jisung leans over and places a light kiss upon your forehead. You swear that for a minute, your heart stopped beating. Even with all of the overly sweet nicknames and the babying, Jisung had never gone so far as to do something so physically affectionate with you as this. However, you like it. You like it a lot more than you thought you would.
His lips linger there for a moment longer before he pulls away with a smile. “You’re more than capable of going after what you want. But don’t let him cloud your judgment tonight. Have fun, make memories.”
The older boy steps back from you, but offers an arm for you to take. Once you do, he leans in slightly and chuckles. “And try not to let this so-called tuxedo effect get to you too much,” Jisung adds as an afterthought. “You might fall in love with me by the end of the night.”
Using the arm linked around his, you deliver a light smack to his chest.
“In your dreams, asshole.”
…
Spending the night with Jisung as your quote-unquote “date” was more of a blast than you thought it would be. From the flavorful fruit punch and the obviously bulk-bought snacks, it truly was a night to remember.
You made sure to catch plenty of Jisung’s dad-dancing on your phone—for blackmail purposes, of course. And when it got to that normally awkward slow dance section of the night, Jisung did what he did best and made it anything but that. Sure, you stood on his toes once or twice, but he didn’t complain, at least verbally, and all-in-all, the night seemed to be a success.
From the few glances you stole during the night, Jeongin also seemed to enjoy his time with his date. The feverish look he had in his eyes when he hopped in the back of Jisung’s car paired with the hint of lipstick on his cheek confirmed it for you. You decide not to dwell too much on it, taking Jisung’s advice, and just hand Jeongin a makeup wipe before he could stroll home with crystal clear evidence on his face that he was ever gone.
The car might as well have been a fridge as you’re sitting there, hands rubbing together so quickly you could start a fire in your attempt to gain warmth. Jisung had started the car already, but his heaters are taking much longer to kick in compared to earlier. Jeongin, now laid out across the back seat, gushes about how the night was and how breathtaking his date seemed to be in her off-white dress. (You don’t know who would wear white to a school dance, but you try your best not to judge.)
His rambles, however, are soon cut short by Jisung, who looks at him through his rearview mirror. “Sorry, buddy, but you need to change before you get home, remember?”
Jeongin huffs as he pulls himself up into a sitting position and nods his head. He looks at you, to Jisung, back to you, then Jisung again. “You’re not going to do that stop-start thing again, are you?”
“Nah.” Jisung waves him off with one hand. “Wouldn’t be as funny the second time. Plus, I feel like sugarplum here would kill me.”
Jeongin’s eyebrows furrow together slightly. “‘Sugarplum?’”
“Don’t ask,” you say hollowly, and send Jisung a stern look to not answer Jeongin either. But in all honesty, if ‘sugarplum’ was the main thing the older boy took from tonight, you’d be completely fine with that.
“Just hurry up and change, nimrod,” Jisung says as he once again looks in the mirror.
You stare at him blankly. “What the heck is this? The eighties?”
“Just say you’re jealous and go, okay, sugarplum?” Jisung makes a face, and you throw your hands up dismissively.
“Did someone spike the punch?” Jeongin asks. “You’re both acting weird tonight.” Every now and then, you hear bumps and noises as he attempts to get back into his sweats in an orderly fashion.
“We’re not being weird,” you respond flatly, your eyes locked on a shallow puddle on the sidewalk from the snowfall, if you could even call it that. You try your best to change the subject and keep Jeongin from questioning you more. “Are you done yet? Can we go?”
With one last grunt, Jeongin succeeds in getting his head through the hole of his sweatshirt. “Yep, you can drive, Jisung.”
That was enough for Jisung to pull the car into drive and to get on the way.
You drum your fingers against the dashboard as Jisung drives, using everything in you to not pluck off the acrylic nails that took you an hour to stick on. You’re pleasantly surprised with how little this whole operation had gone wrong, and you could only hope that the rest of the trip would stay this way.
You don’t even allow yourself to relax into your chair until you three pull to the corner of Jeongin’s street for the second time. Jisung nearly laughs at you for this, but you quickly silence him with another smack to the chest.
“Owie! Looks like sugarplum’s feisty tonight,” Jisung cries, flashing you a fake frown.
You wince at the nickname and turn around, ignoring him. “Jeongin, do you have everything?”
Jeongin haphazardly tosses the bunched-up tuxedo on the seat beside him as he nods. He slides across the back seat and reaches for the door handle before you stop him in his tracks.
“Wait.” You lean over the back seat and quickly wipe at his cheek, and he attempts to back away. “You missed a bit of lipstick, idiot,” you state flatly, ignoring the sudden heat you feel creeping up your neck. “You’re basically asking to get caught.”
Jisung sits and stares as he watches you wipe away the little remnants of lipstick on Jeongin’s cheek, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way the tips of Jeongin’s ears turn a subtle pink color at your touch.
“Ah,” Jeongin chuckles awkwardly, “thanks.”
It is when Jeongin exits the vehicle that you finally take a closer look at what he was wearing. He wasn’t just wearing any sweatshirt—it was purple. Suddenly you remember your plight from earlier and your breath catches in your throat for the third time tonight.
“Wait, Y/N.” You hear Jeongin knock on your window, snapping you out of your daze.
You turn over and lower the glass, Jisung snickering under his breath all the while. “Yeah?”
A stupid grin comes over Jeongin’s face as he utters his next words.
“Stay for Christmas?”
You scoff and suppress a laugh. Maybe if he wasn’t still on a high from the formal, you would've considered asking your parents again this year. But what’s the point if they’ll just say no?
“Not a chance, now go home.”
After making sure Jeongin climbed into his bedroom window, Jisung turns the car around and takes you home. As he pulls into your driveway, you quickly notice how all of the lights are off in your house, minus the porch light. You let out a sigh of relief—your parents must be asleep.
You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to Jisung with a smile. “Thank you, Jisung,” you hum. “Tonight was fun.”
“That's alright, sugarplum, glad to be of service,” he shoots you a toothy grin and salutes.
You once again wince at the nickname, but decide to let it go this time. You quickly lean across the dashboard and place a kiss on Jisung’s cheek. “And thank you for what you said earlier, it meant a lot.”
Jisung chuckles as you pull away. “You’re not falling for me, now, are you?” he quips.
“Don’t ruin the moment.” You slap him on the arm, and pause for a moment before opening the car door. “Just, thank you for tonight, seriously.”
“Y/N, it’s fine, I had fun too.” Jisung smiles. “Just make sure to get inside, it’s cold.”
You smile back and hum once more. Shutting the car door behind you, you rush your way up to your front porch before turning back to Jisung with a final wave. Then, you’re met with warmth, welcoming you after a long trip away as you get ready for bed.
The next morning, however, you’re greeted by two very angry parents.
By the time you got home last night, both your parents were already asleep, so you thought you had successfully gotten away with everything. Even if they were awake, they had no way to know what you did. But it turns out Jeongin’s cousin, Jungwon, caught him sneaking in and immediately snitched to his parents, who, in turn, texted yours, and probably Jisung’s as well.
Let's just say that you are now grounded well into the new year. No going out for a whole month, except maybe the Christmas party next week, if your parents are feeling generous.
You know it’s going to suck being confined to your house for the entirety of winter break, but you suppose that’s the price you pay for being a loyal best friend. If anyone was going to help Jeongin sneak out to a school dance, it’s you—even if you wouldn’t be the one to go with him in the end.
You’d do it again in a heartbeat.
17 years old.
“Can I open my eyes now?” you whine.
“Nooo,” Jeongin drones from behind you, “just be patient. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
You sigh impatiently as he guides you by the shoulders to… somewhere. The December cold swirls around you, biting at your cheeks as you attempt to swivel your head and look around. You don’t know why you even bothered trying, though, as Jeongin had tied a black cloth over your eyes before he drove you off to this mystery location.
Despite this, he still instructed you to keep your eyes shut. It felt excessive, but you obliged to make him happy.
“Fine, but do I really need the blindfold?” You bend your head up and over, looking to your best guess as to where Jeongin is. You can feel his hands on your shoulders, so wherever you’re staring couldn’t have been far off.
“Yes— well, not really.” Jeongin laughs sheepishly and he helps you onto what you assume is a crosswalk. “It was Jisung’s idea.”
You snort, shaking your head to yourself as you try your best to walk in a straight line. “Of course it was.”
Upbeat chatter and Christmas music dances around your ears as you near the still-unknown location. You can’t see a thing, but you can already feel the aura of holiday cheer everywhere around you, just waiting to sweep you off your feet. It is just a week shy of Christmas, after all.
Soon Jeongin comes to a stopping point, and you feel his hands leave your shoulders. “Can I take off the blindfold now?” you frown, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
“Yah, just wait!” Jeongin scolds, but you hear a light chuckle quickly follow. “Patience, Y/N.”
You feel his fingers gently graze your hair after a moment, finding its way to the knot on the back of your head. He gets it undone quickly, but holds the cloth around your head as he counts down.
“Three… two… one…” he says softly, slowly removing the blindfold from your eyes and unveiling the scene in front of you.
The glinting lights make you wince for a moment before your eyes get used to the new sudden brightness. You gasp at the sight in front of you, almost jumping out of your shoes in joy. Thousands of Christmas lights are hung up around trees, swirled around lamp posts, and hung overhead for people to walk under. It is breathtaking, truly breathtaking.
You spin around to face Jeongin in an instant. His smile almost puts the lights out of business. “You brought me to the lights?”
“No, I brought you to the desert.” The boy rolls his eyes, his words coated with sarcasm—but still, he smiles. “Yes, I brought you to the lights, dummy.”
His warmth soon overtakes yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in close. He freezes for a moment, but soon lets his arms wrap around your waist. He squeezes you tight one final time before he pulls away, looking at you with a tender smile.
“We should go, don’t want to miss out on the lights, do you?”
You aren’t sure if he meant to grab your hand as he drags you away, but you don’t do anything to let go, either. You just stare down at your enjoined hands as you follow him, the background noise blurring away into nothing, overtaken by your heartbeat ringing in your ears.
Minutes seem to tick by before you can bring yourself to look up again. Your gaze lands on the back of Jeongin’s head, and it only seems to intensify when he swiftly turns his head. Something about the way his hair flowed with the quick action almost makes you dizzy, and you have to look back down to shake yourself out of it.
You finally have the courage to let your eyes trail back up again a moment later. Immediately, something in the air feels different. Jeongin had turned back to check on you, and a cluster of yellow and white lights seemed to give him a halo-like ring above his head. The music and chatter blurs around you once again, fading into a quiet buzz as your body stiffens and you nearly lose your breath. It’s like you’re the main character of one of those animes Jeongin tried to get you to watch, like the one where the boy and the girl stumble upon a field of fireflies together in the middle of the night. Here you two are, a mere speck amongst the thousands of lights, yet the boy in front of you seems to shine brighter than them all.
It’s strange to think about. You are here for the Christmas lights—no, Jeongin brought you here for the Christmas lights—but all you can focus on is him.
“Are you okay?”
The three words and a light squeeze of your hand pull you back down to earth. You didn’t realize Jeongin stepped closer to you, and you feel yourself exhale shakily, your hand slowly slipping from his grasp.
You stare back with wide eyes, and something inside you compels you to step closer to him. “Y-Yeah,” is all you manage to get out.
The colorful lights seem to flicker as you look around. For a second, they do feel like little fireflies, floating around you as they emit their warmth. And when your gaze lands back on the boy in front of you, the warmth seems to encircle you even more. You nearly forget about the cold nipping at your cheeks, and a rosy glow fills them instead.
“It’s just… I…”
As your eyes meet Jeongin’s once again, you can’t help but notice a slight redness in his cheeks as well. His lips curve upward slightly, and he gently takes your hands in his.
“I know. It’s beautiful.”
You smile up at Jeongin and notice something moving behind him. You squint, looking past his ear, and find those all-too-familiar fluffy crystals fluttering down. Immediately, your jaw drops and your smile grows wider.
“Jeongin, look!” You let go of one of his hands and point to the snow surrounding you.
The scene unfolding around you leaves you awestruck. The colors from the lights bounce off the falling snowflakes, and the music seems to chime more vividly as the snow whisks around, making everything feel brighter and more alive. You feel like your head is spinning as you swivel around, sparkles in your eyes that could rival the spectacle in front of you.
A shaky breath leaves your lips as you take one more step towards Jeongin. Your hands slowly find their way up his shoulders and around his neck, and you let his body heat swaddle you, wrapping you up in a wintry glow as you take it all in. It truly feels like you’re in a dream.
Jeongin follows your gaze and chuckles, a fond smile on his face as he gently pulls you closer. “Yes, Y/N, I know what snow is. Is snow bad?”
You look at him again, your wide, shimmering eyes meeting his warm ones. In that moment, nothing else mattered: just you, the snow, and the boy in front of you.
“It's perfect.”
And like the blonde girl in the firefly scene, you’d give anything for the moment to last forever.
…
“Where were you?”
Your mother’s words nearly make you jump out of your skin the second you step in the house, and you hiss to yourself. Your time with Jeongin at the light festival had swept you off your feet so much that you forgot you weren’t even supposed to be there.
After the events from last year, your parents had grounded you for a whole month, effectively barring you from even stepping foot outside of the house unless it was to school and back. Even worse, they grew so concerned about your so-called “excessive time with this boy” that they placed a strict curfew on you once your grounding sentence was lifted. No seeing friends—read: no seeing Jeongin—after 8pm, lest unspeakable things happen to you. It was ridiculous, not only because you’re seventeen, but because, somehow, your best friend since you were nine was now this supposed threat.
The only way you had been able to skirt around this was to lie, usually about studying at a coffee shop with an unnamed friend. You can’t remember what excuse you gave this time, but at this point, it didn’t matter much.
Your mother crosses her arms, a look of disapproval etched on her features. “Where were you, really? And don’t say the school library this time.”
You curse to yourself, your mistake dawning on you. Why'd you pick a Saturday night to say you were meeting up with some friends at the school library? Did your excitement over Jeongin and his ‘mystery surprise’ really mess with your head that much? It couldn’t have been him… could it?
After a minute, you conclude that you just slipped up after exhausting your list of excuses over the course of the year. It was bound to happen.
“Well?” your mother says expectantly.
You just sigh, throwing up your hands in defeat. “I was with Jeongin.”
Your eyes flick up, waiting for her next frustrated ramble about how you’ve been spending too much time with him. Instead, you get a throaty chuckle as she shakes her head at you, a smirk taking the place of her frown.
“Of course you were.”
Blinking, you stare at her in shock. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing! It means nothing.” She turns around, busying herself with wiping some crumbs off the dining table. However, after closer inspection, you see that the table is spotless.
“No, it means something,” you protest. What happened to all her complaints about how much time you’ve spent with Jeongin? Why the sudden change of heart?
“I didn’t say anything, sweetheart,” your mom says. “But did he?”
“Did he what?”
“You know, the three words,” she looks up, sending you a wink and imitating Jeongin, “‘Stay for Christmas?’”
Mortified, you feel heat rush up to your ears as your mother lets out another laugh. “Mom!”
You refuse to admit it to her, but you actually said it first this year.
It was just half an hour ago. Jeongin walked you to your car, a gentle hand on the small of your back as he followed you down his driveway. He wrapped you up in a strong embrace before you could even unlock your car, and you looped your arms around his neck in return, smiling into his shoulder.
The hug was sweet—Jeongin’s hugs, which seemed to increase in frequency lately, always were. But he held you for a second longer than normal in this one, and when you tried to let go, he let out a small whine and held you closer to him for one more moment. The move took you by surprise, but you hugged him back nonetheless.
You let your eyes flutter shut as you melted into his hold, letting your head fall against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat could’ve lulled you to sleep if you let it, and the light snowfall twirling around you two certainly didn’t help matters. Gradually, you relaxed your arms, letting them hang loosely around his neck, and you let out a contented sigh. You truly never felt more at peace.
Maybe it was safe to say something in the air shifted while you were wrapped up in each other’s arms. Usually, he’d give you a fond chuckle and a curt pat on the back right before he pulled away and took off. But when the two of you finally let go, you opened your eyes to find him smiling down at you. Something akin to affection swam in his soft irises as he slowly pulled back, his hands gently resting on your waist. It was… different, for sure, especially coming from him.
You smiled back warmly, linking your hands together behind his neck. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jeongin nodded his head, an adoring smile still tugging at his lips. “Just… got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
Something seemed to swirl in his features that you couldn’t quite pick up. You registered the return of the light pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you stood under the streetlight together, but nothing else. It was probably just the cold that stirred this up, so you decided not to ask.
You could only stare back at him as you tried to think of something else to say. Something about the position you two were in—arms wrapped around each other under the moonlight—felt too close to lovers in the movies. You couldn’t explain why, but it made your brain go static. And in your attempt to relieve the tension, you gulped once and spat out the first stupid one-liner that came to mind.
“By any chance, are any of those things ‘Stay for Christmas’?”
Of course it had to be that.
Jeongin let out a light scoff, rolling his eyes playfully as he dropped his hands from your waist. You giggled at his disappointment, but you instantly missed the warmth that radiated from him. Luckily, you had half a mind not to say that out loud.
“Okay, moment over,” he mumbled, gently pushing you towards your car. “Get home safe, Y/N.”
“I’m just kidding!” your mother cries in exasperation, bringing your focus back to her. “I know I can’t stop you from seeing him. He is your,” she pauses to make air quotes, “‘best friend’, after all.”
You narrow your eyes at her. “He’s my best friend. No air quotes needed.”
Your mother nods, clearly not believing you. “Right… for now.”
Feeling more blood rush to your face, you roll your eyes and unceremoniously march upstairs. “Goodnight, mom.”
She’s crazy, right? Absolutely. You know yourself and you know your friendships better than anyone. You and Jeongin are best friends for a reason—nothing more, and certainly nothing less. The way you felt like you were on cloud nine just hours ago? It was a one-time thing, you were just fascinated by the lights.
Jeongin had nothing to do with it.
18 years old.
Your scarf is wrapped tightly around your neck and face in attempts to shield yourself from the cold. You jump on the balls of your feet in place as you wait for one of the Yang family to open the door and invite you into the familiar warmth. It’s pretty much tradition at this point to spend at least part of Christmas Eve with the Yangs, but they’re hosting the Christmas party this year so it’s just another reason to stop by.
Shoving your hands into your coat pockets, your eyes brighten when you see movement through the front door window. Soon enough, Mrs Yang opens up the door with a smile of her own.
"Y/N!" She sings, ushering you in before she pulls you into a hug. "I think Jeongin's still asleep, so you can do those honors?" She chuckles.
You pull away, slip off your coat and scarf, and hang them up before you rush up the stairs. "Leave it to me, Mrs. Yang!"
Once you’re up the top of the stairs, you creep down the hallway and knock on the door. When you get no response, you just let yourself in.
The scene in front of you is something you expect, but it brings a fond smile to your face nonetheless. Jeongin is spread out across his bed, his blanket bunched up around his chin. His hair is all fluffy from a good night’s sleep and his face looks peaceful as he snores lightly, like nothing in the world could ever hurt him.
Going over to his bed, you let yourself fall onto it and your head rest on the pillow next to him. Examining his face, you notice how his eyelashes lay against his cheeks and how his lips part slightly as he breathes.
"I can feel you staring at me," Jeongin says, his eyes still closed.
You clutch your chest in surprise as you roll onto your back. "Oh my god, why do you have to scare me like that?” you cry, staring at the ceiling. "You could have said you were awake."
"But then you wouldn't get your chance to admire me," he chuckles as he finally opens his eyes.
"Shut up, no I wasn't!"
"I don't know, your stare felt pretty heavy to me."
You glare at him, flying up and off of his bed before ripping the blanket off of him.
"Y/N! What the hell?!" Jeongin gasps, shooting up so he’s sitting. "What if I was naked?!"
"I know you too well, you don't sleep naked." You bend down to stare at him. "You'd be too scared to sleep naked," you add as you throw his blanket back onto his bed.
Jeongin rolls his eyes, grabbing the blanket before he wraps it around himself like a burrito. "What are you doing here anyway?" he mumbles. He runs one hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, but all it really did was make it even more fluffy. Something about it makes your heart quicken its pace.
"Don't you remember what day it is?"
Jeongin blinks slowly, his tiredness showing. "Friday?"
You groan, sitting down on his bed again before quickly grabbing his pillow to hit him with it. "It's the Christmas," hit, "party,” another hit, “you idiot!"
You attempt to hit him again, but he catches the pillow with his hands and pulls it away from you.
This only causes you to stumble into him, also making Jeongin fall back in the process. A gasp escapes your lips and you use your hand to stop yourself from head-butting the groggy boy. You blink quickly, his eyes gazing into your own. His nose brushes up against yours ever-so-slightly, and you clear your throat, your cheeks flushing.
"This is your fault,” you attempt to joke.
"Me?!" Jeongin scoffs. "You hit me first!" Mimicking his words silently, you roll your eyes. "Uh, but can you move, you're a bit heavy."
Your eyes widen and you scoot away with lightning speed. "Sorry.” You blink, staring down to play with your fingers in your lap.
"By the way," Jeongin says, "I didn't forget today was the Christmas party."
“Well, that’s why I’m here early, to help out,” you mutter, your face still down.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Jeongin gets off of his bed, goes over to his drawers and pulls out the first shirt he finds before pulling his pajama top over his head. You jump and turn in the opposite direction, your cheeks fully flushed.
“Jeongin!” you whine, holding the backs of your hands to your cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. “You could have warned me or told me to leave.”
“Aww, you blushing?” Jeongin snickers. “Never seen a boy undress before?”
Without looking back at him, you try your best to chuck his pillow in his direction. You hear it thump against the wall instead.
“You missed~” Jeongin sings, which makes you scoff.
“And I wasn’t blushing, asshole, just didn’t want to get scarred for life.”
Of course you’re blushing. Especially when he nonchalantly stood and started to strip off his top. And of course you had seen men undress before… in the movies. But there’s no way you’d utter a word of it to Jeongin, not when it would send his already-soaring ego to new heights.
“We both know that your life would actually be improved,” Jeongin chuckles to himself.
He walks across his room and when he comes into your peripheral, you instantly move to cover your eyes. It doesn’t help your reddening cheeks when the sound of Jeongin’s laughter rings out louder.
You feel his fingers wrap themselves around your wrists as you try to fight him from pulling them away from your face. “I’m dressed, idiot, stop being so shy.”
“Stop making fun of me!” you cry and he guides your hands away from your face.
Your eyes meet his and you notice the cheeky smile playing at his lips, which only turns yours into a pout. You only wish he’ll soon forget about this and move on to something different to make fun of you with. However, when you note the playful twinkle in his eyes, you know your prayers won’t be answered.
“Look, you’re blushing so hard!” He continues to smirk.
“I told you, I’m not blushing!”
You attempt to hit him, but with his fingers still wrapped around your wrists, you fail to do so. His grin seems to only grow wider as you roll your eyes and try to pull your wrists from his grasp.
“By the way, Jisung said he was going to stop by later for the party,” you mention. Jeongin’s smile seems to drop slightly at the sound of the older boy’s name.
“Why? He doesn’t live in the neighborhood.”
You shrug as you look at Jeongin with a blank expression. “How am I meant to know how Jisung’s brain works? He's in a world of his own.”
Jeongin hums, his gaze dropping to the floor.
“But in all seriousness,” you start, “he said something about missing us, and that, like, his college just isn’t the same without us?” you suggest. “Also, there was something about this girl he really likes and magic snow and shit,” you add, which causes Jeongin to snort.
“Did he actually say this or you making it up?”
“It’s more like reading between the lines, if you will,” you giggle.
“So he didn’t say shit, you’re just making it up as you go along.”
Jeongin crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at you, waiting for you to formulate your next response. But when the only one he gets is you playfully hitting his arm, he rolls his eyes for the nth time.
“Don’t we have to help set up the party or something? Or a movie to watch?”
“Right, yeah. We should do that.”
Jeongin laughs and as soon as he grabs your hand, flashbacks instantly flare up in your mind from the year before, of the Christmas lights he took you to see—of the way he seemed to shine under them all. You make sure to wish again that he won’t notice the new blush that presented itself as you thought of that time.
You keep quiet, not wanting to give yourself away as Jeongin gently pulls you out with him. You let your eyes gloss over his room once more. You’ve been in here a thousand times before and it seemed to grow with him over the years, and in a way, it grew with you, too. You remember the days when his bed was adorned with Toy Story bedsheets, Woody’s face front and center on his comforter (but you knew Rex was his favorite character). It had long since been traded in for sleek, black sheets—arguably more fitting for someone who is waiting for his first choice university, at the other side of the country, to respond with his admission decision.
And although you’ve been here a thousand times before, something new on his dresser catches your eye.
“Wait, is that…?”
Letting go of his hand, you make your way to the dresser, moving a crumpled up piece of paper out of the way to reveal a photo. It’s from when you were both ten years old; nearly a year after you had first met on the monkey bars, about two weeks before that classroom Christmas party. Mrs. Yang had taken Jeongin to a lights festival one December weekend, like the one you went to last year, and she happened to invite you and your parents along. You and Jeongin stood together in the center of the picture, and a giant Christmas tree towered behind your small frames. The mirthful glow of the tree enveloped the two of you as you posed for the photo, jolly smiles plastered on both of your faces.
Gasping in surprise, your lips part slightly as you take the photo in your hands. “No way…” you murmur softly, and you look up at Jeongin as he makes his way to you. “How… how did you find this?”
Jeongin peers over your shoulder. He gently holds the frame in one hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he smiles fondly. “My mom stumbled across it a couple months ago. She was digging through old photo albums and found this tucked in the back of one of them.” His thumb grazes over the glass. “She framed it and gave it to me, I guess she knew how important it was.”
You blink several times, hoping he doesn't catch the way your eyes briefly well with tears as you take in the details of the picture. You remember that night vividly and all the memories from it seem to come flooding back all at once.
It was your first ever Christmas lights festival, and it was nothing short of magical. The vibrant holiday lights glistened all around you, rivaling the sparkles in your wide eyes. The bells in the soft Christmas music gently tinkled in your ears, as if Santa himself was reminding you he would be on his way soon. The gooey, fresh-baked (and rather expensive) chocolate chip cookie you had split with Jeongin, paired with the rich (and also questionably pricey) hot chocolate you had begged your mom to buy along with it, brought even more warmth pooling in your belly as you leaped down the lit-up aisles with your best friend.
Looking back, perhaps that was what sparked your ongoing Christmas obsession. Sure, it didn’t snow that night, but seeing the bright bulbs all around you twinkling like stars in the sky captivated you wholly, wrapping little ten-year-old you in a warm, merry glow. It calmed the impatience for Christmas bubbling inside you by the day, but lit the fire inside you for the awaited day like never before. And best of all, your best friend was right by your side, being pulled into the evening’s embrace with you.
You notice one very important detail in the picture, though, that breaks your bubbling sentimentality, and instead makes you giggle.
“Oh my god, it’s the sweater.”
The fact that the picture was taken at night and the lights added a yellow glare to the photo made it difficult to spot. But one could take a closer look and see that, indeed, Jeongin was sporting that obnoxious purple sweater under his puffy blue coat.
Jeongin lets his hand drop, leaving the frame in yours as he frowns in offense. “Heyyy, it was comfy!”
You stifle another laugh. “Doesn’t change the fact that it was ugly as hell.”
He sneers at you, “Oh please, like you didn’t wear hideous clothes when you were ten!”
You shrug as you pull the frame up to eye level and continue to giggle.
“Maybe, but nothing will beat that sweater.”
You lunge out of the way as Jeongin tries to wrap his arms around you and grab the photo from your grasp. However, a giggle escapes your lips as Jeongin’s fingers graze your side, which causes you to jump away from him.
A knowing smirk appears on his face. Your eyes widen.
“Don’t you even think about it.”
Jeongin doesn’t listen to you though, and his hands are already at your sides. Your grip on the photo tightens in an attempt to not drop it as your eyes prickle with tears. Jeongin’s fingers run up and down your sides as he tickles you, and causes a mix of gasps and laughter to escape your throat.
“Jeongin!” You continue to laugh as you try to step away from him.
Jeongin thinks quicker. Instead of torturing you more, though, you’re surprised that he chooses to pull you closer to him instead, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“I got you now!” His giggle rings in your ears as he wiggles you like a rag doll. You halfheartedly try to push him away, protesting in between your own giggles.
“Stop itttt, you asshole!”
He seems to listen to you this time, too, and lets you go. However, an evil grin lingers on his face.
You inch back cautiously, keeping a careful watch for his next move. He responds by slowly leaning closer, his smile stretching wider and wider. You slowly move your hands up to your sides to protect yourself from another tickle ambush, a nervous giggle slipping out.
He seems to inch closer and closer to you, and he stops right before your noses can touch, a shit-eating grin on his face. Then he mumbles, flashing his eyebrows:
“Stay for Christmas?”
You groan exasperatedly and lightly push the cheeky boy away from you.
“Oh my god, Jeongin!”
Jeongin breaks out into shy giggles as he steps closer to you, poking you playfully. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from doing the same whilst you try and swat his hands away.
“Come baaaack!” He chuckles after a moment, stepping close enough to wrap his arms around you again.
“Get me out!” You cry out as you try to break free. Your giggly demeanor completely breaks, however, when Jeongin just hugs you closer to him, taking you by surprise one more time.
“No,” you feel him hum through your shoulder, tucking his head in it when you try to step away. “Don’t move.”
You fight and lose to the smile that appears on your face as you wrap your own arms around his shoulders.
You can’t explain how in moments like this, he easily causes your heart to race by doing the littlest things. It makes you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat right now as you’re pressed up against him. If he can, he doesn’t say anything.
“Ahem.”
A familiar voice breaks the silence hanging around you two. You both break away from the hug, keeping your gaze cast downwards as you turn to face Jisung. He had swung the door open at some point and was now leaning coolly against the doorframe as he watches you two.
Seeing you both cower under his gaze seems to amuse him greatly, and a smirk makes its way onto his face. “What was that?” he says, failing to hide the chuckle threatening to spill out.
You stuff your hands in your pockets as you sputter. “It– it’s not what it– we were just–“
“We were just reminiscing, Jisung,” Jeongin grumbles from beside you, his arms crossed over his chest. His cheeks seem to burn red as Jisung grins wider.
You simply nod along with Jeongin. “Yeah, reminiscing. What he said,” you murmur.
“Oh, you keep telling yourself that, baby.” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, which he had seemed to let grow out during his time away.
He lets out a satisfied sigh before he continues. “Ahh, I knew this would happen! It was snowing by the time I got here, so I figured you two were up here together,” he wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, “alone. And you called me crazy!”
You want to roll your eyes at his antics, but you can only chuckle fondly. Sure, it seems like the now-college boy still believes in magic snow, but you have to admit: you did miss hearing him gush about it all the time.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, “why’d you come up here anyway?” You seize the opportunity to wiggle your eyebrows back at him. “Did you miss us?”
It’s now Jisung’s turn to roll his eyes at you. “Mrs. Yang was looking for you two so she sent me up here,” he says, dodging your question.'' You know the party started already, right?”
Your eyes widen, and you and Jeongin flush in embarrassment again.
“Oh, right,” Jeongin mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he exits the room. “The party.”
You place the framed photo of you two on the foot of Jeongin’s bed before following him out. Jisung holds the door open for you two, his smirk getting cockier by the minute.
The older boy pokes both your and Jeongin’s cheeks as you step out of Jeongin’s room. “For the record, I did miss you two.”
You snort, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair before the three of you make your way downstairs. “I know.”
19 years old.
“You’re cheating!”
Hyunjin’s voice nearly makes your ears ring. He really has no need to be speaking so loud, as you’re literally right next to him.
You grip your controller tighter as he tries to swipe it from you with his hand, and you lean away from him.
“Am not!” You yell back, your eyes focused on the tiny Nintendo Switch screen. “You just suck at this game.”
At the same time as Hyunjin gasps, Felix and Seungmin burst into laughter at your response from the other end of Jisung’s bed. At the corner of your eye, you notice Felix fall to the ground amidst his fit of giggles.
“Just get better, Jinnie,” you quip, a confident smirk tugging at your lips.
Even with Hyunjin trying to swat you like a bug, you still manage to keep your eyes locked on the game. Your chosen character, Toad, remained in first place, and after getting a green shell from a lucky box, you send it backwards, causing Hyunjin’s Princess Daisy to spin out.
He gets passed by multiple NPCs, landing him in 10th place with one lap to go. The way he grumbles and glares at the screen only increases yours and the other two boys’ laughter.
You’ve successfully maintained your first place title as you raced around Moo Moo Meadows. That is, until halfway through the last lap, when a voice pulls your attention from the game.
“Why are only two of you playing?” Jeongin says, entering the room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. At the sound of his voice, you shoot up out of your seat and look at him with a smile.
“Jisung only has two controllers and Felix was dumb and forgot his,” Seungmin snorts, which causes the blonde boy to pout.
“Hey!”
Hyunjin goes silent, his own eyes narrowed on his half of the screen as he slowly creeps up the positions.
“About time you showed up,” you giggle, “thought you weren’t going to come.”
Jeongin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, had a few things to do first, but I’m here now.”
Gasps erupt from Seungmin and Felix, and Hyunjin cries in triumph as he throws his hands and the controller into the air. Your head snaps to the game and your mouth falls open as you find Princess Daisy listed as first place, dancing in her car as she continued around the track—whereas Toad, in your distracted state, had been passed by all of the NPCs and was in dead last, “DNF” flashing on your half of the screen and on your 12th place ranking in the middle.
“You cheated!” You gasp at Hyunjin, throwing yourself back down onto the couch as you mash the ’A’ button.
“Just get better Y/Nie,” Hyunjin remarks as he grins mockingly, using your own words against you.
“You guys did this on purpose,” you huff, glaring at the boy who just ruined your five-game-win streak. “Rematch, now.”
“But it was meant to be our go next!” Felix cries, his pout exaggerated.
“Maybe Hyunjin shouldn’t have cheated!”
“Maybe you should have stayed focused!” Hyunjin fights back.
“Where's Jisung?” Jeongin asks out of the blue, and you motion to the door without saying a word. Jeongin snorts, nodding his head. “Thanks.”
He leaves the four of you in the tiny dorm room to join Jisung wherever he was outside—you assumed the convenience store by the dorm lobby. Your attention gets caught once again when your phone lights up, a message notification greeting you on your lockscreen.
baby: outside :)
you: be right there :)
You chuck the controller to Felix, and he jumps in surprise. “You can play now, I need to go get someone,” you state simply, but the grin on your face seems to give you away.
A single “huh?” escapes Felix’s mouth as the other two boys watch you with curious eyes. Not letting their gaze disturb you, you head to Jisung’s front door.
You open it swiftly to be met with your fairly new boyfriend, Heeseung. you met him after starting college this past semester through a mutual friend, and have been dating for around two months now. you don’t remember what drew you to him in the first place, but one thing is clear—he’s so damn cute.
Your cheeks heat up quickly at the sight of him. His fluffy brown hair was hidden underneath a hat and the bits of his fringe that did stick out fell against his forehead.
“Hey.” you smile, taking a step towards him.
“Hi,” he responds, wrapping his arms around your waist which you reciprocate. “Sorry I’m late.”
“All good,” you hum into his shoulder. “All the boys are here. I’d say they’re not crazy, but I’d be lying.”
You feel Heeseung’s chuckle vibrate through you. “It's fine, you’ve met my friends, how much worse can they be?”
Pulling away slightly so you could look at him, you push your lips into a thin line and feign a concerned look.
“Eh, they’re something, alright,” you drop the fake look, chuckling.
“They finally have those snacks downstairs~!”
Jisung swings the door open, prompting you to turn around. He’s beaming and there’s a bounce in his step as a bag of chips sways in his hand, but it all dissipates into an inquisitive, perhaps even nosy, stance once he sees the boy whose arms are wrapped around you.
“Who's this?” The chestnut-haired boy tilts his head, his eyebrows drawn together.
You can’t help the smile that adorns your face. “Jisung, this is Heeseung, my boyfriend.”
You gesture one hand towards Heeseung himself, and you grin wider as he pulls you closer, nuzzling your nose against his shoulder. When you settle your head against his chest, you look back at Jisung and his jaw is practically on the floor.
“Boyfriend?!”
Oh boy.
Heeseung chuckles again, shyly this time. He glances down at you, unsure of what to say, and you take that as your cue to do most of the talking.
“Yeah?” you affirm with a nod, but your statement sounds more like a question. “Is… is that bad?”
Jisung, still in a shocked state, opens and closes his mouth like a fish. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. “Oh, no, of course not! I’m happy that you’re happy, it’s just…”
Heeseung cocks an eyebrow at the older boy. “It’s just…?” He repeats, trailing off at the end like Jisung did.
You want so desperately to pretend you don’t know what Jisung meant by that last bit, but the fact that you catch three heads peeking from around Jisung’s bed only seems to prove your suspicions correct. Looks like Seungmin wasn’t exaggerating when he mentioned that “Jisung has told us so much about you!” when you met him and the others an hour ago. From the way Jisung glances fervently between you and the door, though, it’s safe to assume the majority of what he said involved Jeongin in some context.
Maybe you should’ve told them ahead of time the “plus one” you were bringing to the Christmas hangout was, in fact, your boyfriend. In hindsight, it was foolish of you to assume they’d get the memo from the mere mention of “plus one.” And by someone, you meant Jisung—the main man on the “Y/Ninnie train”, as he liked to call it.
Funny enough, you were just following his advice from that winter formal back in high school: date and move on. Sure, it was three years too late, and there wasn’t anything in particular that you needed to move on from, but advice is advice.
Still, you send the flustered boy a stern glare. You were not getting Heeseung involved in his shenanigans if it’s the last thing you do.
But you notice Jeongin stumble in the room, bag of gummy bears in hand, and Jisung’s eyes grow wide. Your voice nearly strangles, but you quickly snap out of it before Heeseung can notice.
“And this is Jeongin,” you gesture to the hooded boy, “my best friend.”
You don’t notice the way Jeongin’s smile falls slightly as his eyes land on you, though your eyes trail after him as he wordlessly shuffles past you two and plops on Jisung’s bed.
Jisung seems to recompose himself, and he steps closer to you and Heeseung, holding out a hand. “Heh, I’m sorry about that,” he laughs nervously, but Heeseung smiles curtly and shakes his hand. “Make yourself at home, we’re happy to have you here.”
“No worries, man.”
Jisung leaves you two alone, but you don’t miss the look he gives Jeongin. It’s full of concern, and you can’t pinpoint why.
Blinking, you shake off the sinking feeling in your chest, and take Heeseung’s hand as you two move to a spot on the floor by Seungmin’s feet, as the bed was all occupied.
Heeseung snakes his arm around your shoulders as you both focus on the tiny console screen. Felix and Hyunjin were on their last lap of Cheep Cheep Beach, neck-in-neck with each other, and you both chuckle at the boys’ chaotic screams as they pass each other back and forth.
You notice throughout the evening that Jeongin will occasionally meet your gaze when you glance his way. Each time, he opens his mouth to speak and there’s this look pooling in his eyes—some mix of longing but urgency that you can’t sense the reason behind. Regardless, your chest tightens at the sight.
You observe Jeongin whisper something to Jisung, ignoring and trying to filter out the screams of the other three boys as they argue over who gets to be Yoshi, but it’s no use.
“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks softly, the hand around your shoulders gently rubbing your arm.
You gulp but nod, not taking your eyes off of Jeongin but leaning into Heeseung’s side. “Yeah.”
An hour or so passes, and it seems like the awkward glances have only increased in frequency—not just from Jeongin, but between the other boys, too. It eats at you inside not knowing why. All you have gathered so far is that it definitely involves you and Jeongin.
“Hey, Heeseung, is it?'' Felix suddenly pipes up. Both you and Heeseung look up to his spot in the middle of Jisung’s bed, his legs criss-cross applesauce.
“What’s up?” Heeseung responds.
Felix smiles and hands Heeseung his Switch controller. “Wanna play a round? You haven’t had a turn yet.”
A smile of Heeseung’s own forms on his face as he takes the controller in his hands, slowly moving his arm from your shoulders as he hops on the bed. “Oh, bet!”
You’re happy to watch your boyfriend get along with Jisung’s friends as if they were your own—in a way, they kind of are. But one look at Jeongin and all that comes crashing down, seeing the longing look in his eyes.
You still don’t know what’s wrong. Is it because of Heeseung? Does he have some unspoken beef with him? If so, why were all his gazes targeted at you and not him?
Jeongin looks back at Jisung hopelessly, and you attempt to eavesdrop as they whisper amongst themselves. Again, the other boys in the room are too loud for you to get anything useful.
That is, until you glance back at the screen as Seungmin and Heeseung go head-to-head on Rainbow Road, and Jisung scolds Jeongin out of the blue—probably louder than he intended to.
“You need to tell Y/N. Now.”
Your head snaps their direction. Your gaze lands on Jisung for speaking so loud, but slowly shifts to Jeongin. The other boys seem to fall silent, too.
“Tell me what?”
You’re already driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out. All you want is an answer.
Jeongin sighs and sits next to you on the floor. You carefully follow his movements with your eyes. He clasps his hands together, resting them on top of his knee. He opens his mouth to speak, and you nod expectantly.
And… nothing.
After a minute of strangled silence, Jeongin sighs in defeat and drags his feet as he shuffles back to Jisung. The older boy gives him a look you can’t quite read and quietly scolds him some more. The other boys just exchange glances with each other and continue to play Mario Kart quietly, making for the worst awkward silence of your life. So much for your first college hangout.
At least you’re able to pick up some information now. You can barely hear Jisung and Jeongin’s hushed whispers even though the room is largely silent, but you do hear the word “college” over and over.
You guess it makes sense. After months of patiently waiting during your senior year of high school, you remembered Jeongin’s dispirited form when he found out he had been waitlisted for his top choice school. Following that, he’s been going to the state university in your city with you, but he mentioned something offhand about re-applying for the spring semester. Maybe he’s stressed about that, but it seems like Jisung has it covered for now.
Still, they both look over at you with those concerned, longing stares, and it’s not hard to miss.
Even after you get another turn on the Switch, you’re still left with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach by the end of the night. Yes, you won another cup and got your sweet, sweet revenge on Hyunjin for earlier, but it does nothing to tell you why Jeongin hasn’t spoken a word to you all night. Well, he tried to, but look how well that went.
It seemed like everyone around you knew except, well, you. You hate that feeling, but at least, whatever it was, Heeseung wasn’t involved. He doesn’t need to be thrown in whatever drama had concocted under your nose, especially not during his first time meeting them all.
By the time the boys start heading out, with Jeongin being the first to go, you’re practically squirming in your spot. You can’t take this anymore.
You give Heeseung a goodbye peck as he slips his coat on and leaves the dorm. “Thanks for inviting me, I had a great time.”
You smile. “I’m glad. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Heeseung nods, leaning down to kiss your cheek once more before exiting the dorm. That left just you and Jisung, and you turn towards the wide-eyed boy the second the door clicks shut.
“Okay, what is going on?” You don’t mean to snap, but your pent-up emotions get the better of you as you storm toward Jisung. “You and Jeongin have been acting weird all night. Actually, all of you have! What the hell, Jisung!”
“Y/N—” Jisung tries to speak, but you cut him off quickly.
“Was it Heeseung? He didn’t even do anything wrong, he was the quietest one here besides Jeongin!”
“Y/N—”
“And you think I’m not gonna notice you and my best friend staring at me like you two just did?” You stop to take a breath, and you feel heat rush to your ears the more you think about this. “How do you think Heeseung felt?! Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“Y/N, listen.”
Jisung’s soft voice makes you step back. It’s the same tone he gave you in the school parking lot when you were sixteen.
“Jeongin got into the school he wanted for spring semester. He’s been trying to tell you for weeks, he— he just didn’t know how. He leaves tomorrow morning.”
You freeze, and your heart sinks to your stomach. It’s like everything around you comes to a stand-still and the world goes deathly silent. All your attempts to speak go unheard as all you do is open and close your mouth, unable to formulate a sentence, let alone a single thought.
A long list of questions fly through your mind at rapid speed. Why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t you push him to say something? Why did he not want to tell you when Heeseung was there? Why couldn’t you have just stayed with him instead?
“What?”
You feel Jisung gently place a hand on your shoulder as he frowns. He pulls you in close and wraps his arms around your shoulders. That's when you notice tiny dots dampening his shirt and you finally realize you’re crying.
[go to part two HERE]
#straykidsland#stray kids#stray kids written#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagine#stray kids imagines#skz#skz x reader#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz imagine#jeongin#yang jeongin#jeongin fluff#jeongin angst#jeongin fanfic#jeongin fic#jeongin x reader#jeongin imagine#skz i.n#if this posts incorrectly i'm going to scream
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Jeff the Killer X Reader
Ecstasy :)
Based off Ecstasy by Suicidal Idol-
TW- this song contained abuse so that's gonna be pretty prevalent in this oneshot. Like pretty extreme abuse. As well as drugs. We like to keep things dark here on this blog sometimes :)
I just wanna be your sweetheart
She said as she took his hand, caressing his leathery face with her innocent little smile. The look of despair in her face as she said
Fucking come here, give me your heart
Her disillusioned eyes squinted as she held up her sweet smile. He could feel her heart pulse heavily in her chest as she breathed out slowly, her air warm against his lips as he said
Just you and me, to infinity
It started when they met in school after he moved. She invited him over, they kissed, they grew close. When he came back from the hospital after the "incident," she invited him over again. Something special had happened that he needed to see.
I can't fucking breathe, too much ecstasy
He thought as he saw her. The first time he ever felt a sense of bloodlust as he saw her surrounded by the bloody corpses of her parents. It gave him an idea that changed his life forever.
Kiss me on the lips, choke me on the floor
A match made in heaven- or hell, one might say. They shared sensual love and feelings when they finished their families and left town together. Truly best friends.
She didn't want to just fucking stay friends though. They spent too many nights together to just be friends. Why didn't she just speak up?
Drag me around, and push me right against your door
It was because he couldn't stay nice. He changed. She'd cry out as he tossed her around the room. She'd stare at her scarred in the mirror after every night they'd spend together. Her face of terror when she'd look in mirror: she felt like a punching bag that only got worse as they grew older, and he grew stronger and larger.
I'm your little doll, come and play with me
Why didn't she leave? Why did she stay? She could have ran away after letting him use some of the coke she found off a random fucker she stabbed to death. He was so worn out from grabbing her by the hair and throwing her around that he just passed out on the couch in the place they "borrowed."
Dying all my hair, we could be in the scene
Moving across the world, living the edge of reality, it seemed. He'd hurt her so much more along the way. Simply killing his victims wasn't enough for him anymore. The drinks and drugs didn't satiate him. She'd begin to steal clothes from the women she'd kill to try to appease him, make him value her body a little more. Give him special nights. But he never stopped.
Lights out, you don't tap out
Another episode: he'd freak out, high off his fucking mind as he'd toss her around. She'd scream, barely able to recognize him anymore. Begging all the while trying to hold him, calm him, love him. His crazed expression as he slit her throat, licking the blood off before locking her tears. What was that feeling in her chest and thought in her mind as she feared for her life?
You're so crazy, manipulate me
Hug him once more as he returned to normal, then to kiss him. Tell him to go to sleep with her. That's what she did after every episode.
His annoyed face but loving arms was enough to make her forgive and forget once again. Her smaller form curled up against his larger, muscular form was the greatest feeling in the world. He could be so sweet at times ❤️
Fucking chase me, fucking break me
Then he'd get more deadly each time. Holding her down, beating her for messing up their strategy of breaking into a new house. Fuck, her body just got up and started to run on its own; something she never did before. Something she knew she could never get away with.
You're my everything, please just r- me
His words and fists felt more brutal than anything else she had ever experienced. He'd drag her throughout each room, make her beg for her fucking life. All she wanted to be loved Jeff, but he never loved her for anything more than her body and what she could do for him. He knew she wouldn't even protest if he took advantage of her fearful state; even after how badly he hurt her this time.
I just wanna be your sweetheart
She whispered as she weakly kissed him. The girl sat there, straddled on top of him as she weakly breathed out, her dilated eyes revealing the high she was experiencing. Her lip was busted and eyes dark from bruising he caused her just a little earlier. But he wasn't surprised to her so in love with him still.
Fucking come here, give me your heart
And this time, for the first time, he said back that he loved her.
Just you and me to infinity
Her giggles were always the sweetest thing. She melted into him; kissing him and hugging him tightly. Maybe it was possible that a place had been moved in his cold heart for her. Maybe that disgust for his love of her was why he hurt her.
I can't fucking breathe, too much ecstasy
But he still did it. And she still loved him for it.
Piercing on your lip, it's perfect
Like always, she'd dress in something new and pretty by the time he'd come back. She'd always be ready to see him with food, although nothing special, since it's always small things she'd take after murdering a family.
Never seen another girl this perfect
Like a fucking slave, he'd think.
Sticking out your tongue for the picture
Yet, since the day they met, she'd be so happy and obsessed to the point that she didn't care. He can think however he wants and she'd be happy; every photo, video, and every live moment was evident. She was always so happy.
You're so pretty, you're so popular
The night came to where he'd finally call her his girl. She cried hard that day into his freshly cleaned hoodie, cuddled up against him as he'd hold her close. He really did feel grateful for her, although he never showed it. She showed him what it was like to kill and enjoy substances, and she kept him clean, fed, and safe.
I just wanna be your sweetheart
She'd sing for a moment, her usual obsession shining through in any moment he was on her mind. And he was always on her mind. Sometimes, it annoyed him, though, and small annoyances always went a long way.
Fucking come here, give me your heart
She'd cry out as he'd throw her across the room, leaving her in pain and in tears. Extending her arms for help as he's turn to walk away.
Just you and me to infinity
But she always had her way. He'd always come back to her, ready to love on her after getting the rest of his rage out. The same cycle they'd been doing since nearly a decade ago, when they were 15 and ran away from home.
I can't fucking breathe, too much ecstasy (ecstasy, ecstasy...)
#Spotify#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#jeffery woods#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer x you#jeff the killer x y/n#jeffery woods x reader#creepypasta jeff the killer#jtk#creepypasta jtk#jtk x reader
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s2 brain thoughts: the squeakuel (ep 2)
as a reminder, if u see me posting any of these points as their own posts mind ur business:
-i'm sending my hospital bills to david jenkins for weaponizing thef cuking "you wear fine things well" scene WITHOUT ANY KIND OF WARNING i literally almost choked to death from shock
-hey so what the whole actual fuck is up with transitioning directly from the very painful "you wear fine things well" scene which, as we've already established, has REAL HUMAN CASUALTIES DUE TO THIS USE-CASE, into the "run from me darling" lyric overlayed on top of the god damn shot of ed pAINTING THE BRIDE CAKE TOPPER TO LOOK LIKE HIM AND BASICALLY PLAYING OUT HIS FANTASY OF MARRYING STEDE. david jenkins you have committed crimes
-also!!!!!!!!!! that cake topper has kohl smudged all over it so you KNOW our boy ed has been caressing it against his cheek and sighing longingly
-i know we've all talked about how insane the "ed plays with the wedding cake toppers pretending they're him and stede" scene is but i don't think we've really comprehended how GENUINELY INSANE it is like??? edward teach, blackbeard, the kraken, the scourge of the seven seas, the most fearsome pirate the caribbean has ever known that has recently been on a non-stop slaughtering spree, painted a bride wedding cake topper to look like himself which he then scoots next to a wedding cake topper that looks like stede so he can imagine that he's marrying him. this man carefully rubbed kohl on a cake topper to give it darker skin and darker hair and a BEARD. to make it look more like himself. so he could then. put it next to a cake topper that looked like stede. and pretend. they were getting married. i've written that 3 times now and my brain STILL refuses to fully process those sentences.
-i said it in my first brain thoughts post for ep 1 and i'll say it again: every time im reminded that ed has been crying NON-STOP. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. for MONTHS. over stede. my wall gains another hole
-the way ed is so delirious in his sadness as he pushes the cake toppers out the window. i don't even have any thoughts on that i feel like all i can do is just note it and let y'all deal with the rest
>>actually I lied, he literally watches them sink into the sea after he pushes them out the window that's so fucked up whomever made that decision to make him do that is so fucked up
-"the sea is restorative isn't it" "YYYYEEESSS QUEEN!!!!!!!!!! I'VE ALWAYS SAID SO!!!!!!!!!!!!" "ohh that guy knows" IS THE MOST UNDERRATED EXCHANGE IN THE ENTIRE SERIES IT LITERALLY HAD ME SHAKING WITH LAUGHTER
-would looooooooooooooove to know what went through stede's head as soon as roach mentioned "some place called China??" like did he immediately think of the kiss or getting sent to the naval academy or the kiss or ed's excitement at the prospect of running away together or the kiss or getting kidnapped by chauncey or the kiss or watching chauncey shoot himself in the dome or the kiss or his flop behavior of running back to his family that doesn't even want him or the kiss or
-the crew of the red flag being so immediately kind and welcoming to stede and his crew <3
-i genuinely cannot wait to watch buttons fully immerse himself in the red flag traditions like he was made to be on that crew
-"how should I put this, your energy is..." can't believe they got hatecrimed like that
-RAT BOY
-HE'S HERE
-OUR BOY IS HERE
-fun fact: i recorded my live reaction to episodes 1 - 3 and posted the clip of my friends and i reacting to lucius coming back because we were quite literally jumping for joy and crying over the reunion and THE illustrious Nathan Foad himself told me it was literally the cutest thing he's ever seen (his words, not mine!!) so we're basically best friends forever now and the rest of my life will be spent chasing the high of the happiness i felt during that interaction
-i am also crying once again over his reappearance and i think that's just gonna happen every time i watch this scene :')
-roach's shocked face when lucius appears is something that can actually be so personal
-the way they all dogpile on top of him because they're so happy to see him bitch what the FCUK
-also stede's STUPID LITTLE "huh!" LIKE??????????? THAT WAS YOUR SCRIBE AND RELATIONSHIP GURU YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER WHERE IS THE ENERGY AND EXCITEMENT AT KNOWING HE ISN'T FUCKING DEAD??????????????
-"i love it" *BIG SMOOCH* "i love all of it" *BIGGER SMOOCH* oh so they're trying to kill me by smothering me in the syrupy sweetness of their love. okay
-okay sorry but lucius's absolutely microscopic furrowing of his brow right before black pete kisses him again. for a split second he had a slight look of sadness which lines up with the very real trauma he's endured and how even in extremely happy moments they can be tinged with sadness - maybe a sadness for the past and the way things could've been if he hadn't been pushed off the boat - and all i can say is nathan foad. ur big powerful acting mind
-we gotta talk about lucius choosing not to reveal that ed had pushed him off the ship in front of the whole crew. i'm still trying to figure out if that was him trying to spare stede's feelings (unlikely considering he lets it all out later), spare black pete's feelings (possible, since he knows black pete idolizes blackbeard), prevent himself from having to relive that trauma in front of his friends when he's not prepared to confront those memories, or a combination of all of the above
-"i fell. off the ship." "that doesn't sound like you. you have impeccable balance, babe" i literally love black pete so much i may legally have to change my name to lucius spriggs
-"toouwelss? what is this? are these jobs?" stede i love you so very much to the moon and back but for the love of god you gotta shut it my guy
-I AM LITERALLY SO EXCITED FOR THE BUTTONS SEA WITCH STORY ARC LIKE IT MAY ACTUALLY BE ON PAR WITH MY EXCITEMENT TO SEE ED AND STEDE PROPERLY REUNITE AND OPENLY LOVE EACH OTHER AGAIN
-ed just. washing the door handle. i dont have any other thoughts
-GODDDDDDD HE'S SERVING SOOOOOO MUCH GENDER WITH HIS LIL HAIR BUN AND MOSTLY CLEANED UP WAR PAINT AND DANGLY EARRINGS AKEFJAPWHFA OPERGJAER
-the way frenchie looks genuinely happy for ed when he says he thinks he got all the poison out of his system and it's a new day :((
-idk much about piracy but i really don't think there's a rule about the new first mate traditionally having to kill the old first mate, i think ed just made that up so someone else would have to kill izzy instead of him. despite everything, despite how low he's sunken into the very dark parts of his mind due to the heartbreak, ed still can't bring himself to deal the killing blow
-"i expect great things from you" might be one of the more chilling lines in that interaction because for THE blackbeard to have not just any expectations from you, but GREAT expectations? that's not a compliment, that's a threat. measure up to what blackbeard thinks you should be or else
-can't comment on the amputation scene too yucky sorry
-stede trying to triangulate ed's coordinates based off of his string of crimes on a map HE drew is me trying to triangulate where tf this season is going based off of buckwild theories i've made up and used as the foundation for even more buckwild theories
-yeah idk what the mushy ass lyrics stede wrote on that map mean but i know they're frighteningly homosexual
-"FUCK YOU. that's how i am" I am SO glad lucius gets to be openly bitchy towards stede it feels like a cathartic release for me personally
-ed's fuckin "heyyyy" to frenchie in the kitchen is both hilarious and unbelievably unsettling
-absolutely obsessed with the writers for once again showing just how scarily observant and intelligent ed is when he calls frenchie out for using his right hand to mime killing izzy even though he's actually left handed
-i really admire how david chose to use a low camera angle that looks up at ed as he reveals to frenchie that he's well aware he hasn't killed izzy yet because taika's performance was already unsettling enough but that specific angle adds so much to his overall menacing presence in that scene
-joel fry's performance in the kitchen scene with ed literally makes me want to bite something he's so good at acting quietly terrified
-this is almost certainly an unpopular opinion but i really would've loved to see more buildup to jim and archie kissing. i just feel like we know NOTHING about her let alone her relationship with jim prior to the two days we've seen them interacting and i feel like that kiss would've felt like a much more satisfying payoff if we had seen more interactions between them before they got to that point. i would've taken delaying that kiss by a few episodes if it meant feeling fully invested in it once it did happen, but i also know the show already has so much material to get through (which is why we should've gotten 10 eps but i digress)
-"hey no one told me this room existed" is giving "i didn't even realize there was piracy happening"
-"take the fuckin leg" is such a perfect line delivery
-love the foreshadowing of olu explaining how the little ships on the war table were all over the place and "some of them were over land"
-roach waxing poetic about the noodles is so relatable
-"jesus christ stede keep your pants on" hands down one of the funniest fucking lucius moments of all time
-sorry but we gotta give a shout out to lucius modifying the chinese fleet uniform so it's sleeveless. the edges are cleanly done so either he was put on tailoring duty at some point and picked it up there or someone on the ship wanted to enable the slayage
-there's something to be said about the fact that the only other man who has lasted being on board the red flag ship is another member of the revenge who was picked up and welcomed into the fold well before stede and the rest of the crew wound up there. something about how stede attracts and retains other people who he can tell are gentle at heart, even if they're putting up a tough front. something about how lucius had bounced from ship to ship until he finally wound up on Zheng Yi Sao's ship where he was allowed to be himself
-"ya don't know............if ya picked up....smokin....." nathaniel buttons my beloved
-OOOOF stede's guilty face after lucius talks about how he must've picked up smoking somewhere. after the crushing guilt he already feels about the ed situation this definitely would've weighed extremely heavy on him
-MY SPICY LIL RAT BOY IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME
-"what the hell is going on in towels" wee john my beloved
-look i know izzy is on the brink of death but he genuinely looks kinda beautiful before ed wakes him up from his shock induced coma and i won't apologize for that
-"my leg" izzy is so fred rechid coded
-"it's up in leg heaven now" i need to know if ed said that as a way of metaphorically digging the knife into izzy and getting back at him for trying to force ed to send stede to doggy heaven in season 1
-i dont have the emotional capacity to dive into the ed and izzy shooting scene rn but just know it destroyed me on a metaphysical level
-"too scared to do it yourself" no because unfortunately now im thinking about ed thinking through taking his own life but coming to the realization that he can't do it. whether it's because of childhood christianity trauma and thinking he'll be sent to hell for doing so or because he knows he can't follow through with it himself if there's still a tiny shred of hope that he'll reunite with stede and everything will be okay again, he always has to outsource the big job
-also, very interesting choice to have almost jovial classical music playing in the background of the ed/izzy scene. it definitely undercut a lot of the tension compared to how supremely uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing the scene would've been if it were dead silent behind the dialogue
-"i loved you...best i could"
-"i've got an ex-wife, two messed up kids probably" LMAO stede acknowledging he would have no way of knowing how fucked up his kids are because of him
-"sounds like you're quite the fuck-up pal" "yeah, i am! and im alone! talk to pete. don't be like me" ohhhhh my god stede is in just as much agony as ed is over this breakup he's just been using his polite society social skills of saving face and never showing how truly devastated you are to others to cover up how supremely messed up he is over all of it. he is BEGGING lucius to talk to pete and NOT make the same mistakes he did because maybe if he can prevent lucius from bottling it up and actually deal with this in a healthy way he can make up for a fraction of all the hurt he's caused not only ed but lucius as well. maybe if he can get lucius to talk to pete he can absolve himself of some of the soul-crushing guilt he feels over how his actions have irreparably damaged the people he cares about the most. maybe if lucius and pete are able to work through this trauma and still come out the other side loving each other just as much or even more than they did before, he can believe that there's still hope for him and ed.
-ed choosing to put on the cravat for what he believes is going to be his last action on earth before dying because he's resigned himself to his fate but is still scared shitless by it and wants that modicum of comfort that stede will always be able to provide him no matter how badly he hurt ed is giving me the urge to find the nearest cast iron skillet and loony toons my skull
-"some people are just broken no matter what you do" noooo why do i feel like lucius was talking about himself when he said that to stede about ed ://
-oof i know they were an unnamed character but fang tried to save someone who went overboard during the storm and wasn't able to :(
-GGGOOOODDDDDDD izzy looks so fucking hot and badass all soaking wet and leaning up against the rigging after shooting ed jesus christ
-"finally" ed was so relieved to have his pain finally end. even after his journey of self discovery in the next episode im really curious how he's going to deal with having to confront the pain he thought he escaped in addition to the pain he inflicted on others while failing to cope with that pain and stopping at nothing, including nearly killing the rest of the crew, to end it
#ofmd#our flag means death#blackbonnet#gentlebeard#edward teach#ofmd s2#stede bonnet#ofmd s2 spoilers#lucius spriggs
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Our Ballad |
(SVT Joshua x You)
M A I N | O N E S H O T S | S M U T | S C E N A R I O S
-------------------------------
Status: Complete
Post Status: Nov. 13, 2023
Pairing: SVT Joshua x You
Genre: Angst, Romance, SMAU, One Shot
Word Count: 900
Themes: Moving On, Unrequited Love
Note:
This is a work of fanfiction.
Please respect the real Hong Jisoo/ Joshua Hong
Thank you for reading~
Synopsis:
Sometimes a spark doesn't always lead to a flame. He was a song that she never finished listening to. Even seeing him on his special day was difficult to breathe.
You were the reason for our beginning, but you were also the reason for our end. If loving you was going to leave a scar, then I wouldn't have let you in.
I remember how it all happened. The memory of us was like a song I couldn't stop playing.
You reached out towards me. You were everything I thought I wanted, but I wasn't what you needed. It's strange the more I think about it.
Were you the one that chased me or was I the one that followed after you? What happened before? Do you remember?
Do you remember what lead us together? Do you remember the clouds that filled the sky before the rain pour?
We were only in high school, but it felt like I knew you forever ago.
You held your hand out to me after I fell to the ground. I remember that look you had. The way your eyes widened with wonder and concern while your curled lips turned to a gasp.
It was embarrassing but I remember it.
You stuck by my side since then. Maybe it was because of our classes that destined us together, or maybe it was the fact that we couldn't ignore each other. All I remember was the way you'd pass notes to me in class and we would often get into trouble.
You'd goof around with me during detention and even when we had disciplinary exercises.
You could never stay up against the wall like I could and I could never hold that many books on my hands like you did. You were the memory that stayed with me, but your notes is what left your trail.
It was the highlight of my day whenever I would go home and find your random note in my backpack.
You always did let your presence be known with your signature smile with a musical note at the end of each one. You loved the reactions I would give you, and I would always love your attention.
You were a melody I couldn't stop humming. A song that I always wanted to sing but could never be sung.
You were my first love and you were my best friend.
You were always kind to me. You were always sweet. You did everything you can to make me happy.
But even so, it didn't mean you loved me.
Or rather, you didn't love me the way I wanted you to.
When I met you outside of school to watch a movie, you seemed nervous. I asked you to come along in hopes I would see a different side of you that day, but I saw more than I wanted.
And I heard a pitch change in the melody.
When you walked me home, that's when I heard the truth.
"I'm sorry. I never meant to lead you on..."
Your words were slow yet sharp. It was like I was impaled by a knife into my chest or being eaten alive by a monster. I shouldn't have expected more, but I did.
You stopped the tune that I wanted to listen to. What I thought was a ballad was just the blues.
I shouldn't have thought someone like you would love someone like me.
I was bitter when we went separate ways. Even more bitter knowing I won't find anyone like you. But I wasn't bitter enough to hate you. Nor was I bitter enough to take my own life.
But you did.
You weren't there for my birthday.
You weren't there for our graduation.
And you weren't there when you said you'd see me one last time before you'd go.
You never said where. You never said when.
All I remember was your message that you left. You wrote it as if you were going away and you'd see me far from now.
I remember the way your words were written like a poem. It was playful yet dejected. I wish you told me what was going on with you. I wish you told me what happened outside of school.
Outside of our safe haven.
But all I have is your message. All I have is this poem that just reminds me of your absence.
It's not fair. It's not fair that you could leave me like that while I was stuck in the darkness hoping you'd come back.
I have so many questions, but I know you won't answer them.
How could you when you're already gone?
Your mom was there you know? Your mom was there at your funeral. You looked just like her, but she didn't have that melody.
She was cold.
You never talked about her or about your father. He wasn't there. Did he know or did she not tell him?
Or did you not want him to be there?
I wish you told me your story.
I wish you told me all your flaws so I knew the process of your tune. The melody and notes I always listened and hummed to were cut short.
You ended it too soon.
And I know I'll never hear it again.
• • •
End | Thank you for reading <3
Extra:
#seventeen joshua#svt joshua#svt ff#joshua ff#hong jisoo#joshua hong#svt smau#seventeen smau#moving on#joshua sad#joshua angst#joshua x you#joshua x reader
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it's (not) fine (ゼロ ; zero ; cero)
It's fine if you're not here. Either way, i'll always remember you.
Hey, kei, say my name. It's not fine if you're not here.
pairing — Baji Keisuke x reader
word count — 4.7k
note — this is a spin-off of it's so cold. it can be read on its own, but some context might be missing. thanks for reading!
It's fine.
i've convinced myself it is, at least. It's been quite some time since things started changing—since people started leaving. i've grown as used to it as i can so it'd be easier on Mikey. Whether it worked when Ken happened or not, i can't really tell. i think it might have. Seeing how things turned out with South, maybe it didn't. It doesn't really matter—it does, just not quite the way it's supposed to. When things are quiet like this, it feels like Mikey never even killed anyone in the first place. The same way he once killed Tora—though that was erased—and the same way i once killed Manjiro—though that was erased—and the same way he once killed South—though that.
It's quiet in here. Kanto Manji has grown so obnoxiously large that it's hardly quiet around me anymore. Mikey headed out earlier without a word, Haru in tow, and Koko's busy downstairs with an ong—Koko's just busy. i don't know what everyone else is doing. Commando unit, special attack unit, even Kakucho. Bullshit. The only special attack unit i ever cared for was kei and Tora. i like things better when they're like this; quiet and empty and peaceful. i'm not sure when i started to like silence so much.
It's quiet now, but it was never quiet around kei.
My sigh echoes in this emptiness. i've convinced myself it's fine while i try and find something that won't remind me of him. It seems difficult when i keep clinging onto him like this. The cross pendant engraves its shape on my palm the more i tighten my fist around it. i've always loved kei's sense of fashion, but this necklace suddenly seems horrendous. It's hard to believe the moon hanging in the sky is the same one that drifted by when we were together. Photographs are just pieces of paper and memories are nothing but dust, yet it all makes him resurface in my mind.
A big heart and a big smile and a big voice. Although the room is quiet, my head isn't. It plays in a timber gruff and too deep for a kid my age. Then again, it's been two years and he's no longer my age where he left. If anyone can stay young forever, it's definitely kei—in heart and spirit, of course, because physically he's sure to grow and open up that pet shop he's always wanted.
It plays. It's the ghost in the back of my head, playing, "Chifuyu's unhinged!"
The loud sound of his laughter rings through the air, somehow—but unsurprisingly—overpowering his roaring engine. i lean against the backrest and curl my fingers a little more securely around his precious Goki. Even if i have my own bike, kei's always been persuasive enough to make me hitch a ride with him. He's here, right in front of me, and i laugh alongside him. "I heard!" my cackles mimic his, "He's really got your back, huh?"
"That's putting it lightly." And it really is. Chifuyu's been with him for less than i have, but he knows how to make consistent choices. If there's anyone i trust to keep kei safe, it's definitely his new vice-captain. Back then, at least; now that i've stared at his death these many times, i should have known.
So i let my shoulders bounce in glee and amusement. "Better keep my hands off you, then." These little moments, when we're hanging out at the dojo, bare feet padding on the mats, chasing the moon so high in the sky; the blurred line between Toman meetings in the middle of the night and childhood friends bantering. "Or tell him to chill out," i snicker. i doubt Chifuyu would lay a hand on me.
In a fit of sheer stupidity, in typical kei fashion, he cranes his neck back and grins at me over his shoulder. "What, were you thinking 'bout putting me in my place?"
"kei!" i scramble to shake him by the shoulders and slap his attention back forward. "Eyes on the road, dipshit!" i catch a flash of the moon blooming in his fangs before he speeds down the road. And i give up. He lets me have the last word and i think just this is okay, so i let it go. i hold onto him tight until we arrive at Musashi Shrine.
When we park, it's a distance away from the torii gate, as per usual. This is where we part ways, because i don't think there's ever been a time when kei and i crossed to the sacred together. It's always meeting him after he's already far ahead, or not meeting him at all for a decade. i get off his bike and slap his back with enthusiasm. But kei catches me by the sleeve of my uniform before i can leave. He knows i need to—He knows i usually head up to wait for Mikey. He's always been persuasive enough.
Chifuyu's already idling by his own parked bike and kei drags me to chat him up for a little while. In his mind, a minute longer keeps me from sinking. i indulge him. Cracking jokes with these two is never dull; sharing a regular friendly conversation is always so peacefully mundane. It's loud and it's fleeting, but it's welcome. i do wonder what's taking Mikey so long. i haven't seen his Babu, so i'm guessing he's not here yet.
i only manage a wandering glance towards the torii gate before kei's voice pulls me away, "Wanna join us for some burgers after the meeting?" It's the way he says my given name that brings me back from the pressure on my shoulders. It's my name he says. It's not a mess of sounds in the shape of a brand.
"Yeah!" Then Chifuyu chimes in with that nickname Mikey passed onto everyone around me. It doesn't show on my face; it never has. "We should hang out!"
i chuckle at their mirroring beams. It's light-hearted. "Only if you're paying, kei."
Chifuyu again, with that nickname and an honorific far too formal. "That's what I'm here for! I wouldn't make my captains pay, right, Baji-san?"
i glare pointedly at Chifuyu's captain. "kei." My tone is accusatory enough to make him feign ignorance. kei averts his eyes from mine with a cheeky smile, palms and shoulders raised to plead not guilty. There's not a single timeline in which he's guilty. A snort slips, "i'd fuck you up, kei," and i glance at kei's unhinged vice-captain, "but i'd rather not get stri—"
"There you are!" comes Mikey's distinctive voice from behind me. He calls my nickname with familiarity. It can't bother me, not this early on in the game.
i instantly turn towards him. It's weird that i didn't hear his Babu pull up. Not that it matters, really. "Mikey!" i call back to him, beaming, waving for him to come closer before i head to him.
Mikey's looking around as he stops a few feet before me, Ken trailing behind. "Where's your bike?"
"Oh, i came with kei."
His eyes shift to kei for a brief moment, empty. Then he lets out a soft chuckle, his attention back on me, a simper on his lips as he shakes his head. "Dummy… Guess I gotta give you a ride back now."
"Sure." i smile back at him. Then i turn to look at kei and Chifuyu again, and i see the expressions on their faces. It's cute to find Chifuyu's disappointed i'm turning him down, but kei—It's only for a moment. "Ah, i'll—Maybe next time? i'll catch you guys later." i leave them with a small wave, because although kei's always persuasive, it's never enough to tear me away from Mikey permanently.
i feel lighter in my own skin and bones by the time i stand next to Mikey, feeling the ghost of a tug on my sleeve reminding me i'm allowed to exist outside of my self-imposed priorities. We cross the torii gates together; we transition from the mundane to the untouchable. i laugh and i enjoy my time alongside my friends. i don't quite see what kei does, or his reasoning for making me hitch rides that can't stop me. He thinks i won't run away this time, but i've always chosen Mikey over myself.
He knows that. And it's not something he needs to stop. It's fine, after all, it's always been like this. kei knows that.
kei or simply Baji Keisuke. For everyone, Baji—Baji-san, Baji-kun, Baji in admiration and in friendship and in disdain. For me, however, just kei. i never understood why Mikey chose Baji, too. i think about the way i addressed the people surrounding me sometimes. Tora for Kazutora, and Takashi's first name. Never that childish honorific for Ken, and even Pah was Haru before i realized i couldn't handle Haruchiyo's scars in my mind every time i talked to him. Even switching back and forth between Mikey and Manjiro, because i've never known who is who or who exists and who doesn't or who's real and who isn't. i could never curse Takemichi with Takemicchi. Koko—that wasn't a choice, but i think Koko is fine.
And then there was Baji Keisuke. Being with him since childhood, it only made sense i'd refer to him by his first name and so would he for me. Neither of us liked beating around the bush. It only made sense. We were close and it showed in our voices. That's how we grew up. Baji was short-lived, Keisuke sounds like mom when she scolds me, and Edward was stupid the same way Michael is and will always be. kei simply rolled off the tongue nicely.
i found solace in the way kei pronounced my given name—not some low-effort, jumbled, scrambled mess of hiragana that Mikey came up with to brand me like cattle. i chose to call him differently so i'd separate him from Mikey's possessions. Although i wasn't interested in seeing things beyond Mikey, i unconsciously tried to pull away from him by pulling into kei. Sometimes, it felt more like kei was trying to pull Mikey off my shoulders. There was always so much pulling, so much burning at the seams, but never any pushing. All he wanted was for me to wake up and realize, not startle me.
Because that's what kei always has been. His ripped shirts and his stylish choker. The slouch of his shoulders and the sparkle in his eyes. The sound of his loud voice, gruff and too deep for a kid my age, calling out from his bike so i'd hop on faster. Peppy and cheerful, with a big grin and an equally big heart, far too stupid and far too smart for his own good. Careful, watchful, a little too much in the know, and much too little into asking for help.
He knew i could bleed and that i'd give everything up for Mikey to live his life and that i was always ready to die. That's really all that kei's always been; standing tall, but looking small, like a mischievous little thing grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me along. Like he knew no matter how much he pulled, i'd always choose Mikey in the end. For worse, never for better. Like it's fine. For better, never for worse.
Another Toman meeting tonight, with the day growing late and the full moon rising in the sky. It's one of those nights, rare but not impossible, where Mikey is here earlier than me. i cross the torii gates on my own and the silence seems so loud. i'm not really used to things being quiet around me. i've always been surrounded by boisterous people. We're delinquents.
And kei takes pride in that; in his glimmering grin and his extreme volume. "Slow down, will ya?!" comes his distinctive voice from behind me. He calls my name with glee.
i stop without so much as taking another step away from him. It's not only his voice, but also knowing there's no one else but kei to use my given name with care. i wait for him to catch up to me, smiling at him climbing the stairs. "kei, hey."
His hands are attacking my hair before i can duck away. "I told you I'd pick you up. Why didn't you wait for me, dumbass?" Laughter bounces off his every sentence. We take a small break from all this shallow back-and-forth between Toman and our friendship. i exist outside of my chains. i exist with kei.
His assault on my scalp is relentless even after i swat my palms at his face. i scratch his cheek, hissing, "And i told you i have my own bike, dude."
"Then we going for a ride after this?"
"i'm more up for a race, how 'bout that?" i playfully knock my shoulder into his.
Where kei usually knocks me back, tonight he chooses to freeze on his tracks. i look back and down at him, finding his eyes gawking at me in disbelief. i raise a brow as he says, "You're actually free later?" Then i frown. i'm sure, i'm so sure i'll forever remember him and his words, trying to pull me back.
"Yeah?"
"What about Mikey?"
What about Mikey? It's my own naïveté the one that doesn't let me understand. "i… i don't know?" But i'll know soon enough. And kei won't be there for me to hide behind.
"Huh." It's short and he brushes it off his face before he lets on too much. He's always been one to take everything on his back. As if nothing else he'll ever hear could throw him off, kei resumes walking, shrugging his shoulders carefreely. "Since you're always following him, I thought, you know…" he trails off, like he sometimes realizes he actually doesn't know much at all.
i blink a few times to reorient myself. He's already climbing up the stairs in silence ahead of me. Although kei knows me, it seems my choices still elude him. It seems my choices elude me myself. i can't find the words to tell him that even if he's not Manjiro, i still love him to bits. If i can't explain it now, i'll be left all alone. But i don't say anything. i don't know if i can say anything. i hurry to catch up to him.
When he finds me heavy by his side again, kei snickers to himself, "Then I'll beat your ass." My name dances with the sound of his laughter. With the full moon hanging in the sky and shining in his pockets, he flashes me one of his boyish grins. i giggle for a moment before falling quiet in my thoughts once more.
What about Mikey?
i hear the door open and close behind me. kei's necklace makes its way back into my pocket, away from cold, prying eyes that might accuse me of abandonment. Not that i would ever leave Manjiro, but he sees the puzzle pieces in my hands and makes up his own image. He calls that nickname he gifted me, the one written with syllables out of order and chaos in his head.
i turn towards him to find him idly standing by the door. Speaking of silence, i guess it's because of him i've had to grown used to it. With my friends all gone, the loud and boisterous ones that would never shut up—like kei, of course—this quietude has become the norm. Maybe i've always liked silence and peace, but i didn't know any better until now.
"I'm hungry," is all Mikey says.
His eyes find mine. i'm getting tired of everything i'm supposed to call mine. All my friends and my allies and even Mikey. Dark gaze and long hair—like kei, but he's not kei, and kei will eternally remain in my sight, grinning forever, unfading. My friend. i'm sick of trying to find a single thought that will make sense. i sigh, because the choices i've made force me to reach my hands out to Mikey.
It's vague, but i brush his hair off his face, suggesting, "Take-out soba?" i don't dare specify and let him know i've been thinking a little too much.
"I just want dessert."
"Okay."
i have to hold my stare for a little longer than i actually should. Manjiro blurs in and out of sight the more i look at him. He's curiously staring back, probably wondering why i'm taking so long to order ice-cream for the both of us. Of course. i pull my hands away, searching in my pockets for my phone. All i find is a cross pendant. i'm still hungry for yakisoba.
That's the thing—that's always been the thing. Things i didn't want to see or i simply couldn't pay attention to because i was too busy making sure Mikey wouldn't derail. Things kei tried to pry off my back so many times by making me hitch rides i didn't need. Where Mikey unknowingly—or knowingly?—forces me to loosen my grip on my own identity, kei comes to help me wrap my fingers and close my fists tight around it again. It's an offer and it's never imposed; i have my choices when it comes to kei.
And it's fine, because i choose to go back to Manjiro every time. So i order ice-cream and take-out yakisoba.
i stand nearly in shock next to Toman's president. kei came, disrupted the meeting, socked Takemichi, and left while declaring himself an enemy to us—to me. He's leaving. Right now, as Kisaki fixes his glasses to also punch Takemichi, kei is leaving. Right now, as Takashi grumbles to himself, kei is leaving. Right now, as Manjiro does nothing but sulk, kei is leaving.
He's leaving. He's gone.
i stare and stare and stare at the empty spot beside Chifuyu. Right now, as i don't move a single muscle, kei is leaving. It feels like an eternity later when i finally snap out of my own pity party. Mikey's fingers barely brush my wrist in a futile attempt to keep me in place. kei's already left, he doesn't want another one of his friends to abandon him for the enemy. He knows better than that.
i would never leave him. kei would never leave him.
(kei, right now, is leaving.)
i would never betray him. kei would never betray him.
(kei was there when Shin was killed.)
My feet are almost floating down the stairs, skipping steps and struggling not to stumble stupidly until i crash at the torii gates. kei comes into sight, a few feet before crossing back onto the mundane without me. He throws a glance over his shoulder when he hears me catching my breath behind him. It's between choking gasps for air that i manage to call out to him, "kei." Is it in admiration or in friendship or in disdain? It's in my voice. "Why are you doing this?" It's in fear.
"Hah?" he drawls. He turns to face me fully. The moon blooms in his smirk. "I'm bored of playing kids' games."
i take a step closer. "Dude, don't lie to me." Kids' games is all we've been playing—kids' games is all we know how to play. i'll let him lie to anyone else. i don't care if he's a liar or a cheater or a fraud, as long as he doesn't lie to me.
"Since when do you care about anything that isn't Mikey?"
"i don't." It makes me wonder how any of this manages to get under my skin. i don't think i could handle this ending for me to begin. Where do i begin?
"Then fuck off," kei snarls like he hates me, like i'm stupid, "I don't have time for a lap dog like you." The insult doesn't hurt because it's true—even if it really, really is true—it hurts because he's lying to me. It hurts because i keep ignoring all the signs to turn myself around. It hurts because kei is right in front of me, offering me a helping hand for the umpteenth time since we met as kids.
i look at it. It's not there, but i look at it. There's blood on his palm from the other two times i've seen him die. i hesitate when i brush my fingers against his. "kei, how are you doing this?" i force eye contact on him. He questions me loudly. He's a little too smart and a little too stupid. "How can you just turn your back on him? How do i do that?"
"You're lost." There it is; my name, myself, my own person.
i tightly grasp his hand and my righteous identity. Away from the Sanos and their chains. Away from the intoxicating charm that sinks me deeper and deeper into this hole. "Take me with you." i hold onto the ghost of kei's hand and try wiggling myself out of Manjiro's grip.
It flashes across his eyes for a brief moment, because finally, finally all his individual efforts to rip my voice from inside of me and set me free are paying off. All i need to do is let go of Mikey. All kei needs to do is snatch my hand. i see his feet stutter in their own steps and how his fingers twitch by his side and how he's psyching himself up to reach out for me.
And i shrink back. i choose Manjiro again. "No, you're right," i sigh, laughing to myself like i'm not cutting down all the warning signs kei's been leaving for me, "That'll just cause more problems." Now i'll never get to him—not past the torii gates and certainly not past death. "Take care of Tora for me."
kei scans me up and down one last time. i don't know if it's pity, resentment, or even anger the emotion shining in his gaze. He turns his back on me with a single scoff that he has to force out of his throat. Of course i trust him to tear all of my stitches off one by one, of course i trust him to remove this weight off my shoulders. It's Mikey the one i don't trust.
It's fine, really. Even if i didn't have the words back then, kei will forever be here by my side. In spirit and in heart and leaning against the backrest of his Goki. If it has to be like this, i think it's fine. i'll never know more than this and i'll live with it. How differently would things have turned out if i had followed kei out of the shrine? Would Mikey's grip on me have worsened? Or would it have vanished completely? His stance on traitors has never been clear, especially when he ticks back and forth like a metronome with a distorted tempo. Hypotheticals are useless. i can hide behind kei all i want for the rest of my life, but i can't run away from Manjiro.
kei's not here anymore for me to find solace in, though. He hasn't been here for the past two years. It's not like he's gone forever, of course—after all, death is only temporary, so i'm sure at some point, he's bound to come back. He's come back every time. He'll extend his hand out to me and drag me along again in typical kei fashion. He'll make an effort to not have me sink and i'll listen this time. i will listen. i swear i will. He'll let me know when it's all said and done, give me a ride home, raid my fridge even.
It's alright, it's okay, it's fine. i've known it all along. In the middle of fighting, in the middle of a kids' game, things take a turn for the worse and steal the glow of the moon from kei's smile. Things don't make sense. Next to Mikey, it's all chaos, but i'm not next to Mikey in this junkyard, because he's too busy wanting to kill Tora. i fight my own fight against Valhalla members, and i figure that's the difference between me and Manjiro. i don't want to fight my friends; i don't want to fight Tora; i don't want to fight kei.
Breaking Tora won't do any of us any good. It won't bring Shin back, it will put murder in Mikey's hands, and we'll be losing a friend we only just managed to get back. We're here to get kei back, not to push Tora farther away. i watch it all happen, gasping for air and choking on my own bloodied nose. kei collapses, someone—Takemichi? Or is it Chifuyu?—mentions a stab wound, there's blood but it's not inside kei, and Manjiro.
Murder. Murder. Murder. Murder. i've seen this already. Manjiro's killed Tora twice before. kei. kei has died twice before, in timelines Takemichi didn't know about yet. Mikey is bashing Tora's face in with just one of his fists. Honestly, it doesn't really matter. Whatever happens here, Mikey will become a murderer anyway two years from now when he doesn't bother holding back against South.
But kei. Will kei come back?
i mean, of course he will. It's kei, after all. kei knows his weaknesses and his strengths; kei knows death can't be permanent, especially not for him. He'll come back, because he's Baji Keisuke—because he's kei. And i wish i could blame him and tell him he's wrong when he chooses Tora over himself and over Chifuyu and over everyone and over me. He chooses Tora the same way i'm always choosing Mikey, so i should have seen this coming. But he's wrong. But it's his choice. But he's kei, and kei doesn't die—not forever, at least.
i'm far away and on my own and silent as i watch him die. i'm far away but i can hear the way he says my name and how awfully dissonant it rings next to Mikey's when he lists all of our friends. He swears, right there, on his deathbed, that we're all his treasure and he wanted to protect us. He won't always be there for me to hide behind, will he? He wanted to protect me. He—He wanted to—kei wanted to. He wanted to. kei really wanted to.
kei. kei is dead, isn't he?
He died in Chifuyu's arms. The last word out of his mouth was a name and it was not mine. He died. kei died. kei is dead. kei's not here anymore, he's all but the ghost in the back of my head, playing, "Chifuyu's unhinged!" so i can hear him laugh again. Although i've convinced myself it's fine, i'm starting to think it's not. Maybe, just maybe.
i look at Manjiro.
It's not fine.
—あごす (agosu) • 2022
#it's (not) fine#tokyo revengers#tokrev#baji keisuke#baji#baji x reader#baji keisuke x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokrev x reader#angst
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memento mori
Malleus had found a way to make time stop.
Malleus Draconia x Gender Neutral Reader
Notes: This one is a little sad. Hurt and comfort, existential angst, fear of death, mortality. Please skip if this is not your cup of tea.
Malleus had found a way to make time stop.
Granted, it wasn’t foolproof, as it would often end up speeding time instead. And yet when it worked – oh, when it worked, it was stronger than any magic he could ever hope to master.
You, on the other hand, were always running out of time. Mostly literally – running from class to class, cramming the night before exams, chasing after Grim – life in Twisted Wonderland had been a vortex of emotions and activities that were hard to get used to. Somehow, in all that madness, you had fallen in love with Malleus, and to your surprise, he had returned the affections with every fiber of his being. But, as it turns out, falling in love with a magical entity is a problem in and of itself. Malleus was always late to your nights out together, insisted on taking you to disheveled ruins far hidden in forests, and although he meant well, a part of him was enveloped in this eternal sadness – not just by his gloomy disposition, but by his adamant apathy to all things regarding school duty, and his jaded view on human life.
“Malleus,” you call softly. “You know, you don’t have to help me study.”
Cradled in his lap, he simply watches in silence as you go through your books.
“The time that remains for us is a precious gift. I’ve come to terms that I cannot have you by my side forever, so in turn, at least allow me to be there for all your moments.”
“That’s... dark.”
Silently, you wonder if the Fae feel the same range of emotions as humans. A different lifespan comes with its own kind of existential dread, though you cannot begin to fathom what it must be like. That being said, Malleus suddenly turning the subject of every other conversation into a constant reminder of your mortality is unwelcome on this particular day, as you are feeling especially emotional.
“Well, your journey is short. Spending it all by your side it the least I can do.”
“You.”
He’s said nothing new. He’s said nothing that he hasn’t before. Listen – if you spin it the other way around, it might actually sound romantic. And yet today – for some reason, today, you’ve had enough. Does it not suffice that you are thrown into a strange world, forced to learn magic (even though you cannot invoke it), lost all notion of what your regular life used to be like – how can he possibly understand? He’s never told you, so don’t even know – what his powers are like, how many centuries he’s lived through. Everything shrouded in mystery as you need to sort all his conundrums and metaphors, deal with his taciturn demeanor; enough is enough.
“Aren’t you tired of playing-pretend as a high school student?” You hiss, holding back tears that go so deep, they feel like they’re forming in the back of your throat instead of your eyes. “What gives!? I’ll be dead in another sixty or so years anyways, eighty if I'm lucky. Please, just stop reminding me.”
At first, your choice of words clouds his eyes with anger and dejection – you can sense an electric current rising as suddenly the outside air is not so clear anymore. But quickly and surely, Malleus steadies down, and so does the weather.
“Child of Man,” he begins to say. “I apologize.”
“No. I’m sorry,” you shake your head. “I’ve been... pondering a lot lately.”
“I should not have voiced such sad thoughts out loud. It won’t happen again.”
“No, really, it’s okay. It’s just... this impossible dream.”
“What do you dream of?”
You dare not say, but you dream of becoming a fairy. I mean, if magic is possible in this crazy world, then it’s not such a farfetched fantasy, right? Not out of greed – you could not care less if it’s ten, sixty, or five hundred more years until you die. Time is not important. You just want to live in the same dimension, the same frequency as Malleus, grow gray hairs together – is that too much to ask? In the current scenario, both your existences are so foreign to each other, that if you had to put it in easier terms, you'd say it feels like being a dog –loyal, unconditional, and sure, we love dogs as much as we love our kin– but an inevitable barrier separates them to us. We might meet one, two, thirty dogs – yet to them, we are their Only Human. How is that fair?
Malleus is not good at guessing other’s thoughts. He’s told you that much before. But when he sees you start to weep quietly, he knows.
“I can stop time.”
“No weird magic, Hornton,” you warn. “And please don’t joke about this. I’m not in the mood.” In all honesty, it’s hard to tell if the Thorn Prince himself is jesting or not – hey, he's capable of the occasional wisecrack now and then, and you don’t doubt him, but then again, stopping the flow of time itself seems like an overpowered cheat skill for anyone to have.
“No,” he assures. “Not magic. Or perhaps it is. Just not the conventional kind.”
A deep sigh escapes your lungs. He is not going to let this go, so you feel obliged to comply. “Fine. I’ll humor you. Show me.”
Malleus shifts your weight on his lap easily, and when he places a hand to cup your face, it dawns on you how it’s so big and monstrous and his fingers are like claws – so much so, that the tip of his little finger extends to your neck, and the span of his hand clutches your nape and ear and cheek all at once, effortlessly. His lime green eyes shine in the rising moon of the evening, heavy lids, zooming in on you, seeing nothing else. And then his pale face inches closer, and he kisses you. It’s that simple. There are no tricks, no spells. But he does it slow and carefully. At first, a peck on the lips, which inevitably tastes of your tears; he wipes them off gently with his thumb, crisscrossing your cheeks, so gently that you can mentally trace the zigzags his fingers are making by the lingering static of his touch. Then again, but this time Malleus is a bit more forceful; not too much, he knows exactly how to handle your fragile skin. Taking turns between nibbling your upper lip, then switching to sucking on your lower lip – wet, tender, reddened; pausing to allow you to catch your breath, and also just to take the sight of you in, as you are panting, squirming on his lap. The sadness is ever present, but a bittersweet joy soon fills you instead – and Malleus kisses you over and over again, scaling in intensity, making you lose your sense of balance, being or gravity, as if you cannot smell or see or hear anything else, all that remains is your sense of touch, and all you feel is him. “See?” Malleus whispers, breaking the lock of your lips, still remaining so close that it makes you shake with the vibrating tones of his voice; like a cat’s purr. “But a fleeting moment, yet it feels like an eternity.”
Malleus had found a way to make time stop.
It wasn’t foolproof, but oh, when it worked, it was stronger than any magic he could ever hope to master. And for a brief instant, time had forgiven you both.
“to kiss you”
A series of one-shots and drabbles featuring the Twisted Wonderland boys, kisses, and a specific body part.
Part 1: Azul Ashengrotto x Gender Neutral Reader, legs.
Part 2: Malleus Draconia x Gender Neutral Reader, lips. [you’re here]
#malleus x mc#malleus angst#malleus draconia#malleus x yuu#malleus x y/n#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x mc#malleus draconia x reader#twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst#jabberwondia#jabberwondia originals#crossposted to ao3
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not the same anon that asked u to write more sam fics but do you think you could write a blurb or smth with Sam where reader is also a cc and after a long day of meeting people and doing twitchcon stuff reader and him just collapse onto the bed as soon as they get back to their hotel room, maybe slow soft sleepy sex, maybe not
I gotcha :> ♡ it's a bit rushed unfortunately
NSFW 18+ only - Minors/Ageless blogs DNI
Warnings: gn, praise, soft sleepy,
You both let out twin groans as you flopped onto the bed. Walking around twitchcon all day was exhausting, but well worth it.
Sam had been playing minecraft rivals half the day, but for the other half he had joined you in walking around and visiting booths and stuff. You only had to muster up the puppy eyes once to Sam; and he gladly had gotten the art work you got your fingers onto.
Every once and a while a fan would appear asking for a photo with the two of you, or approaching with a small gift. Sam would always start off by introducing himself. "Hey I'm Sam," before hugging said fan. You'd both thank them before they left.
"You know Sam, I'm pretty sure the reason they're approaching is because they know who you are," you smiled, poking fun at him.
Sam grasped your hand dragging you along with him. "Well maybe they're here for you,"
"But they only know me through you,"
"So I should stop?" He titled his head
"No. No, it's cute," you hummed.
He laughed softly before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
Warmth filled your cheeks before attempting to push him away. "No mushy in public," you whined making him laugh more.
Now that you were both in bed, however, it meant relaxation time. "How was rivals?" You mumbled feeling him kiss your shoulder.
Sam took a second to say "Great," before moving his kisses closer to your neck.
"Sammy," you breathed out, giving him more room to work. Hands reached around your front pulling your back flush against his chest. His hold was firm yet gentle around you. "Too tired,"
Sam hummed, starting to reach for your pants. "Don't worry baby, I'll take good care of you," he smiled.
You allowed him to slowly undress you, his artwork of soft kisses and gentle bites were a distraction for his fingers slowly pushing into prep you.
Once he had opened you up for him and slowly pushed in, a mountain of praise flowed from his lips. Each gentle thrust was paired with an equally sweet sentence.
"Made just for me sugar,"
"Always feel so good,"
"So good for me,"
Part of you wanted to record the way his cock slowly pumped into you for later, but you were too tired to even move.
You could stay like this forever, his dick kissing against the most sensitive spots of yours. Your brain a puddle of warmth and pleasure.
Sam was whining words against your shoulder as he sped up a bit. His hips were moving on their own accord, desperately chasing a high that was closer than before.
Your body was practically molded to his, the warmth of his chest melting you.
"Sammy," you whimpered, trying to find his hands. "Close,"
His fingers interlocked with yours. "That's okay baby, go ahead. Cum for me," Sam moaned softly.
"There you go sweetheart," he praised as you trembled in his arms. Your orgasm shocking through you. With a low groan Sam followed suit, filling you up.
You both laid there in the peaceful moments to follow. The movement was minimal other than a few slow thrusts from Sam to help as ride out the ends of your highs.
After a bit Sam slowly began to pull out making you protest softly. He stopped moving keeping you half full.
"Baby we gotta shower," he kissed your head.
You could honestly barely keep your eyes open at this point. "Nap first," you slurred.
Sam adjusted himself, bringing you closer to him. "If you say so," he yawned. "You're going to complain later,"
"Future me problem..."
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Is it me, or are long text posts just better when the text is shrunk? It's just very pleasing to me for some reason, and I really really like it. Makes me feel calm. I'm trying to recreate that, but uh. I'm running out of things to say. So I'm gonna tell yall some stories. But ✨️aesthetially✨️
First story - so I like playing minecraft. And a while ago I was playing this one survival world(I think it's deleted now but I'm not sure). I'm just wandering a snowy biome and trying to get out of it because I fucking HATE snowy biomes. So I eventually come across this ravine thing? It was like a cave with an opening at the top with a river at the bottom I guess? And I was crouched at the edge of the ravine thing, just looking down it because why not. While I'm doing that, a fucking POLAR BEAR comes from behind me and hits me into the fucking ravine, into the water, so that was fun. I almost drowned because that was a really deep river and a very high edge of the ravine so I almost drowned. :) 👍
Second story - so it's like may of 2020. It's covid, we're at home, etc etc. On our front porch, we have a roof thing over it with pillars at each corner of it. In the corners, where the pillar met the roof thing, a couple of birds made some nests. The one closest to our door was beginning to be made by a chickadee or a finch before a bluejay kicked it out and claimed the nest for itself(that's what my dad said he saw idk). The bluejay hung around for a while, occasionally flying away and bringing sticks or going to eat or something. This went on for like, 2-3 weeks. Then, one night, when my sister and I were waiting on the front porch to be picked up by my nana for a sleepover that weekend, we heard some tweeting from the nest. I saw maybe two baby bluejays, but a couple of days later, my mum said she saw at least four. That was pretty cool until a grackle came by and killed and ate three of the babies. I was pretty sad about that. But after that, I was very careful about watching that last baby when the mum wasn't around. After a good week or so, the baby was pretty grown, and I called him Baby because I was a stupid idiot baby then, and I thought, why not. My mum sat on the porch to smoke a lot in the spring and summer, so she saw the baby try to jump out of the nest multiple times, same as my dad when he sat out there with her, just talking. But one rainy day, I noticed that the baby bird was missing from its nest, and I had thought that he had jumped out and soon figured out how to fly. Or so I thought. Because couple of days later, when it was sunny again, I asked my mum if I could go on my bike. She said yes, so I grabbed the keys to the garage and the side gate. I grabbed my bike out of the garage and walked down the short path while talking to my mum(she sometimes sits out on the deck to smoke) about this dead baby robin I found on the sidewalk while biking one day when I realized I almost RAN OVER THE FUCKING BABAY BLUEJAY. the little fucker was just sitting right in the path without a care in the world. I told Mum, and she went inside to get a towel so we could move him out of the backyard because we had three very big dogs(rest in peace, Tank, I will love you forever) that would probably eat him without a second thought. After about 10 minutes of chasing him around, Mum says to leaving him alone where he was(being in the neighbors front garden, I think). So I go biking for a while and when I come back the little fucker is sitting in the path to the side, on one of those things you'd find in garden shops with bags of dirt on them ig? They were proped up against our garage, and the baby was sitting on the bottom part of it, scaring the living shit out of me. After I put my bike away, I come back to him, and I just sit on the ground in front of him. You know what happened. I fucking pet him. Like the awesome badass i am. He didn't even try to bite me or pull away, either. A few days pass by, and every night, he tries to fly out over our fence(and failing, resulting in faceplanting into the fence). After a while, he managed to climb into our lilac tree and hopped/flew into a bigger tree, and left. Didn't see him again after that. I also renamed him BJ. 👍👍👍
Yeah no I'm done with this tonight I just spent the last hour writing these so hope you have fun reading them holy fuck
I might do it again, though :)
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Fic: He Rose Victorious
For @ninetimesthepain, a Jon/Michael with an interpretation of the "leaving notes around a house" theme. An AU where Michael kills Jon after Jon walks through his door in Another Twist, but it's not the end of Jon. Creepy, warning for violence.
He Rose Victorious
Michael slays the Archivist within itself, painting its own insides with his pretty red blood. It takes special pleasure in eating his eyes, and once there is nothing left of him, it makes the mistake of believing that's the end.
*
The recorders on their own are already a bad sign, implying the presence of something inside Michael that isn't itself. But when the cassettes themselves start to pop up, when they start to play, that's when Michael becomes livid with rage.
"You think you can survive within me?" it screams ín the corridors, tearing the tape out of one cassette after another. "You are in my place of power, inside me!" You will lose!"
"I'm not for you," the Archivist's voice responds, echoing around Michael. "I'm marked," the Archivist continues, and Michael could swear he sounds smug.
Michael races within itself, destroying every tape and recorder it finds. It has the nastiest, most enraging feeling that the tapes are just the beginning.
*
Tapes, the statements, are on the nose from the start; they are about Michael's essence in the beginning, then about Michael itself, then about Michael Shelley. Both recorders and cassettes sprout faster than Michael can destroy them, meaning there is usually a whole choir of the Archivist's voices speaking within Michael, sometimes precisely at the same time, sometimes at odds with each other, leading to a cacophony. Michael itself is supposed to be madness; it shouldn't be suffering from it.
"You can't hide forever," it snarls down at a recorder. "Your little game is surely very fun for you, but it will have a bitter end. I will see to that."
"He was born," the Archivist replies from the tape, throwing Michael's own words back at it. Somewhere, everywhere, dozens of other tapes play the same words, the Archivist's voice similarly satisfied on all of them. "He was pointless."
"You are pointless!" Fingers sharpening, Michael crushes the recorder in its hands.
But the tapes and recorders keep coming, merciless in their sheer quantities. Michael starts to slow down, without meaning to, and the game changes.
*
The first time Michael spots the Archivist in one of the mirrors inside itself, it loses control.
It rushes the mirror, smashes it to pieces and chasing the Archivist's image on every shard, shattering them into smaller and smaller pieces until it can't see his face anymore. After it's done, its form is bloody and torn, and it doesn't feel any better. It knows he will be back.
"I will find you," it calls out into itself, hating that its voice now lacks confidence.
The tapes keep appearing, gathering up now that Michael isn't trying to destroy them so hard anymore, even though it means it's filling itself up with the Archivist's voice, his words, his cruel pleasure. It destroys the next mirror that shows the Archivist's face, and the one after that, but with the fourth one, it stops to stand before it, staring into the Archivist's dark, empty eyes.
"What do you want?" Michael asks. It feels tired, for the first time in a while.
It's insulted when the Archivist turns his back on it in the mirror, disappearing.
*
The day it goes silent inside Michael is the day of fate.
It runs inside itself, searching every nook and corner and smashing every recorder on its path, until it finally finds Jonathan Sims in the heart of itself. The Archivist looks worn too, just as weak and pathetic as he has always looked, but his eyes are alive when they face each other.
"Michael," the Archivist says.
Michael screams and lunges.
The Archivist doesn't try to fight back when Michael wrestles him to the ground, when Michael turns its hands into blades and raises them high for a strike. He doesn't fight when Michael stabs him full of holes, only stares at him as his blood spurts out of his wounds, his eyes full of strange affection. He's smiling.
"Stop that!" Michael demands. "You're dead, do you hear me? You're dead!"
The Archivist smiles on, even as Michael drives its blades straight into his eyes.
*
Afterwards, Michael flees.
It steps outside the door and it has all intentions to hunt, gorge itself until it can't remember the Archivist's eyes anymore. But instead it ends up wandering around London, driven by agitation and dread, until it can't stand it anymore. It returns to the door and goes through it, to face what it knows will be there waiting.
The Archivist is indeed there, standing among his tapes and recorders, running his fingertips over them. He smiles at Michael as Michael enters, and now it's Michael's turn not to resist when the Archivist approaches it. Even as it longs to kill him again.
"What do you want?" it asks him once he's close enough, when he raises his arm around Michael's neck.
The Archivist utters a little laugh.
"I don't know. This is pretty new to me too, I've got to think about it. But now that I'm here-" He tightens his hold on Michael, pulling it downward so he can kiss its mouth. "I might as well try to know you."
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Touriko Playlist
“She Bore It All With A Smile”
Tightrope - Michelle Williams (“never sure, never know how far we could fall / but it's all an adventure / that comes with a breathtaking view / walking the tightrope / with you”)
Girl In Blue - Animal Sun (“she screams tonight, "i wanna be like you!" / dancing in the light to forget the abuse”)
Slipping Through My Fingers - ABBA (“the feeling that i'm losing her forever / and without really entering her world / i'm glad whenever i can share her laughter / that funny little girl / slipping through my fingers all the time”)
Strawberry Blond - Mitski (“i love everybody because i love you”)
She Likes A Boy - Nxdia (“strawberry lipgloss, oh, it's wasted / on this dumb boy who likes the chase / but why am I so angry in the first place? why am I hurting? she's not your girlfriend”)
I Miss You - Julia Michaels (“you weren’t a fan of pictures / so i hardly even took ‘em / got them saved in my mind from the bedroom / so that i can’t forget your skin / so i saved all the texts / all of the best over the years / just to remind myself / of how good it is / or was”)
Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart - Mitski (“i don't blame you / if you want to bury me in your memory / i’m not the girl I ought to be, but / maybe when you tell your friends / you can tell them what you saw in me / and not how I turned out to be”)
Glassy Sky - AmaLee (“i didn’t wanna hurt you, hope you know / empty promises / shattered dreams of love”)
What If I Never Get Over You - Lady A (“i’m tryin’ but then i close my eyes / and then i’m right back, lost in that last goodbye”)
Ease My Mind - Hayley Kiyoko (“i need you to be here / i need to see you crystal clear”)
Girls - Girl in Red (“i’ve been hiding for so long / these feelings, they’re not gone”)
Far Away - Nickelback (“too long, too late, who was i to make you wait?”)
The Only Exception - Paramore (“when i was younger / i saw my daddy cry / he broke his own heart / and i watched as he tried to reassemble it / and that was the day that i promised / i’d never sing of love”)
Heather - Conan Gray (“me in your sweater, you said it looked better / on me, than it did you, only if you knew / how much i liked you”)
Boyfriend - Tegan and Sara (“you kiss me like your boyfriend / you call me up like you want your best friend”)
She Likes Girls - Metro Station (“i can read the signals from a mile away / i know she’s on your mind and that’s okay / i think she likes girls”)
Turning Out Pt. ii - AJR (“i think i probably wasn’t in love with you / i think i probably loved the idea of you”)
Hurts Like Hell - Fleurie (“i loved and i loved and i lost you”)
Old Scars / Future Hearts - All Time Low (“those memories of all the future hearts you've killed / i don't wanna be the one that's left behind”)
Just One Yesterday - Fall Out Boy (“anything you say can and will be held against you / so only say my name / it will be held against you”)
Starving - Hailee Steinfeld (“i didn't know that I was starving ‘til i tasted you / don't need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo”)
Strawberry Blonde - Chloe Moriondo (“can you stay and make me feel better?”)
Monster - Paramore (“i’ll stop the whole world / from turning into a monster and eating us alive”)
Burning Heart - SVRCINA (“kiss me / fade away / just far enough / i’m drifting / touch you so i know that i’m not dreaming”)
Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift (“you’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now”)
Lover. Fighter. - SVRCINA (“i know, it’s not easy or that simplified, no / but you and i are on each others’ side”)
Warrior - Beth Crowley (“put me to the test / i’ll prove that i’m strong”)
Wild Roses - Of Monsters and Men (“oh roses, they don’t mean a thing, you don’t understand / but why don’t we full on pretend? / before i closed my eyes i saw a moth in the sky / and i wish i could fly that high”)
Meet Me On The Battlefield - SVRCINA (“our tainted history is playing on repeat / but we could change it if we stand up strong and take the lead”)
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Malia J (“load up on guns, bring your friends / it's fun to lose and to pretend”)
Breathe In, Breathe Out - Set It Off (“until then, i will choose to display / all these feelings that i hate / you think you know me, but you don't”)
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Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 14
Pairing: Hangman x Female OC
Word Count: 2903
Warnings: None
Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.
Or so he thought.
Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks. Also, sorry it's taken so long - this chapter was really hard for me to get the motivation to write and I don't know why :(
Chapter Songs: The Bitch is Back Wolves
****
Hangman
"Good morning, aviators. This is your Captain speaking," Maverick greeted jovially. "Today's demonstration begins as a free-for-all. Man against man. Your goal is to be the last pilot standing."
"What's the prize if we win?" Fanboy asked cheerfully as Payback fell into line with Phoenix.
"That depends."
"On what?"
Hangman could practically see the mischievous smile gracing the Captain's face when Maverick said, "You'll see. I'll be watching from the outskirts. Good luck out there."
Hangman clipped on his mask and pulled up high into the sky, using the sun to hide his position. Rooster and Phoenix seemingly had the same idea.
"Looks like the band is almost back together, lady and gentlemen," Hangman quipped, grinning. "What do you say we take care of these guys and put on a real show for the people below?"
"Are you calling us second-rate pilots, Seresin?" Omaha asked, choosing Yale as his target.
"No, of course not. I'm just calling you second to us."
"Let's get 'em boys!" Harvard declared, banking to the right when Coyote chased after him. Hangman dove down to help his friend, aiming from above. Phoenix and Rooster followed suit, but rather than going after Hangman, they surprisingly went after others. Rooster assisted Omaha in taking out Yale, who nearly escaped if Harvard hadn't accidentally cut him off, giving Omaha the shot. To the shock of Hangman, Payback lost next, but only because Phoenix had it out for him since he owed her money.
"Gonna get you back for that!" Payback declared while he left the area to circle and watch the remainder of the dogfight.
Phoenix chuckled. "Should've paid up when you had the chance."
"No, I shouldn't have played against you and Princess in pool."
"That was your first mistake. Your second was thinking you could beat us after we won three rounds prior."
"She's got us there," Fanboy admitted. While they continued to bicker with Phoenix, Hangman scanned the area and zeroed in on the closest enemy to him: Harvard. With the aviator wholly distracted by trying to knock out Omaha as revenge for getting Yale, Hangman saw the opportunity and took it, coming at him from above. Harvard narrowly escaped being locked onto but swerved directly into the path of Rooster, who held nothing back and got a lock on him immediately. Annoyed that Rooster had taken his "kill," Hangman thought about going for him next, but Fritz tried beating him to it. Rooster desperately tried to evade, and Hangman, not going to let another person get his kill, decided to go for Fritz instead. Rooster must've noticed because he appeared to strategically fly a pattern that helped him avoid being shot down but gave Hangman the perfect aim. He didn't hesitate.
"That's a kill!" Jake declared happily, feeling a little too much joy at the sound of the lock alert.
"Make that two; you're out, Omaha," Phoenix said.
"And then there were four," Coyote remarked.
"Speak for yourself. Bradshaw, your ass is-"
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Princess speaking," Juliette interrupted coolly. "There's been a change in plans."
Rooster groaned. "Jules, for the love of God, tell me you're not flying with Maverick right now."
"I wouldn't let her if she tried," Maverick chimed in, "but no, she's not with me."
Juliette scoffed, but Hangman could hear her amusement. "First of all, rude. I love going up in jets, but even I have my limits. Besides, I can barely keep food down while sitting down on a stationary object. I don't want to know what it would be like in a jet. Second, I'm not putting the twins in danger. Third, like I said, there's been a change in plans. Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, Coyote, you're the last four standing. You are now a team. Your mission is to take out the enemy, who currently resides in an F-35. Fourth gen against fifth gen. Time to prove it's not the plane but the pilot that wins battles. Anyone want to make bets?"
"I knew Mav wasn't up here for no reason! And sure, what the hell? It's the four of us against him," Coyote said, falling into attack position as number four with Rooster leading the way.
"Let's say a hundred push-ups? Or do we want to do two hundred for old times' sake?"
"Because it's Mav, I think I might actually go with the hundred."
"Hundred it is. Good luck aviators. You're going to need it."
"Why do I feel like she knows something we don't?" Coyote mused.
"Because it's Princess, and she probably does," Hangman replied, searching the horizon and radar for the Captain. It took another thirty seconds before he spotted him. "Straight ahead!"
"Why is he cruising like that? He's going awfully slow," Phoenix observed from her position as Dagger Three.
"Should we be worried about him?"
"Not sure I'm the one you should be worried about right now."
"Jules, cue the music," a new but all-too-familiar voice instructed, followed by the crackled audio of Elton John's "The Bitch is Back." Hangman's heart nearly stopped, and it had nothing to do with the F-35- not Maverick's- that blew fast and furious between him and Rooster from below. The latter, along with Phoenix and Coyote, scattered, but all Hangman could do was look up and watch as the newcomer shot to 9,000 feet, flipped the plane over in one fluid motion, and locked onto Coyote, who had made the unfortunate mistake of flying underneath her.
"That's a kill!" Ghost chirped, zipping down toward her next closest target, which happened to be Rooster. "Bradshaw, you're next. This is for all the times you woke me up at Top Gun."
"I told you I was sorry! Multiple times!" Rooster protested, swerving from side to side to avoid her. Phoenix tried coming to his rescue, but by then, Maverick had arrived on the scene and foiled her plans. Unless she wanted to get taken down herself, she had to evade. With Phoenix being closer, Hangman chose to assist her. Rooster could handle himself for the time being.
"Hurry up, Hangman!" Phoenix barked, rolling to the left to get Maverick in Jake's sights.
"Don't worry, I'm gonna take Pops out."
"I'm coming too! Hang on!" Rooster announced, suddenly coming head-on with Ghost still hot on his heels. "Phoenix, on the count of three, break left. One... two... three!"
Phoenix banked left, and Rooster locked onto Maverick at the same time the Captain managed to latch onto Phoenix. Then, in the blink of an eye, Ghost got Rooster. In the span of five seconds, three pilots had been knocked out of the competition. Now, it was only Ghost and Hangman, and for the first time, the Texan found himself genuinely concerned about winning the battle. Ghost had a bone to pick with him, and she was in a superior aircraft. Not to mention that while she may have come second at Top Gun, it was only because she'd broken some rules during the hops, from what he'd heard. When it came to flying ability and strategy, few could beat her. Hangman even questioned his ability. Of course, he wouldn't let Ghost see that.
They blasted past each other, their canopies a mere foot and a half away. Hangman swung around, scrambling after Ghost, who was rapidly gaining speed as she raced toward the hard deck. He started to lose distance between them. If that happened, it'd be impossible to get a lock on her, not to mention it'd give her the space to strategize a way to maneuver behind him. Hangman couldn't allow that. If Ghost landed on his six, he was toast.
"Come on, Ghost, stop running from me," Hangman jested.
"Ghosts don't run," she countered.
"Right, right, you just disappear." And leave the person wondering what the hell happened... Hangman wanted to add that last part but opted against it. He didn't mind getting under people's skin normally, but Ghost remained a different story. Her treatment of him was warranted. Of that, he had no doubt. However, Ghost hated him enough; he didn't want to add to it with his snarky comment in the air either with a competition and multi-million dollar jets at stake.
"Guys, you're getting close to the hard deck," Maverick warned, a statement Hangman found ironic coming from the Captain, considering Mav had broken it on numerous occasions.
Ghost ignored him, though, leveling out mere feet above it. Not to be outdone, Hangman followed, staying on her like a hunter to its prey. Hangman started to gain on her again, and within a few seconds, he was within range to get a lock. Ghost dodged him easily, though, almost like she was toying with him. Hangman drew closer and closer to the point Coyote asked Ghost why she was slowing down. The comment took a moment to register with Hangman, but by the time he did, it was too late. Ghost hit the brakes, went up, drifted overhead, and tried to land behind him. Thankfully, Hangman's lightning-quick reflexes kicked in, and he diverted his course to the right in an attempt to circle around her again.
"Nice try, Seresin," Ghost said, flying above him upside down. Hangman looked up at her, trying to find an escape route, but found himself hopelessly trapped between the mountains on each side of him, Ghost above him, and the hard deck below him. He braked suddenly to try and throw Ghost in front of him, but her reflexes were too quick, and she braked along with him, staying above her opponent.
"Lieutenants, pull up! You're too close to the hard deck!" Maverick ordered, but Ghost did not relent on her position, continuing to lower her jet toward Hangman's, pushing him closer to the hard deck. Hangman realized Ghost intended to keep doing this. This is how she would knock him out of the game and win the battle.
"Ghost, I know we've had our problems but is running me into the ground really the answer?" Hangman asked with mock playfulness in a desperate attempt to transition her focus from the mission to the conversation.
It didn't work. Ghost remained directly above him and continued lowering her jet towards his, forcing him down, down, down until-
"You've hit the hard deck, Hangman. You're out," Maverick informed, causing the aviator to shake his head and angrily unclip his mask. "Everyone, head back to base. For those of us who lost, we have some push-ups to do."
"I'm going to get you for this, Ghost." Although Hangman was half-joking, he was also infuriated he'd lost. He knew the moment Ghost flew onto the scene that she'd do whatever it took to win, including pulling some dirty moves, like pressing into Hangman from above until he had nowhere to go but below the hard deck.
"You'll have to find me first," she responded. Hangman glanced above him, then his direct surroundings, but the female pilot and her F-35 were nowhere to be seen. She definitely lived up to her callsign...
When he landed and disembarked from his jet, he dropped to the ground and began his push-ups. Not long after, Ghost strode by. She paid no attention to the line of aviators doing push-ups under the shades of their craft's wings. Instead, Ghost kept her head down. Maverick joined the group a few seconds later, but not before glancing over his shoulder at the disappearing aviator. He dropped down next to Hangman to begin his push-ups. When he hit fifty, Mav asked, "What can you tell me about Ghost?"
Hangman thought about their time at the Academy, during their training to be a pilot, their deployments, and the most recent dogfight; he couldn't help himself when he replied, "She's possessed."
"Don't you mean possessive?" Maverick grunted, lowering himself down for the sixtieth push-up.
"I know what I said."
Unless Hagnman imagined things, Mav chuckled quietly. "So, what's the story with you two?"
"I caused her backseater's death and her near death. She hasn't forgiven me for it, and I don't blame her." With most people, Hangman would've told them it was none of their business and moved on, but this was Maverick. He had too much respect for the man to do anything but tell the truth. Still, Jake didn't want to continue the discussion about it. Finishing his push-ups, he stood and abruptly changed the course of conversation, not wanting to go down memory lane with the other Daggers around. "Can we expect you at the Hard Deck tonight?"
"I'll be there."
"Good. You can meet the other Blackwood."
Maverick hovered in place and glanced up. "Charlotte's going to be there?"
How does Mav know Charlie? "No, Jackie. Ghost's older sister. Polar opposite of her sister. It's funny; she used to be the wildcard in the family, always breaking the rules. Now it's Ghost."
"When did that shift happen?"
Hangman shrugged. "She always took risks when flying, but something changed in her after the accident. Just what, I don't know. She's barely spoken to me since it happened. Listen, I'm going to head home and take a break before hitting the Hard Deck, but I'll see you there, Pops."
Before Maverick could ask any further questions about Hangman's relationship with Ghost, the Texan high-tailed it out of there, keeping a carefully controlled expression of calm and collectedness in the event he ran into anyone he knew. Luckily, he didn't, and he arrived at his truck without incident. Hangman drove back to his place and shuffled inside to shower and freshen up, not wanting to smell like jet fuel and the sweaty inside of a flight suit. He took his time since he had a few hours to kill before the meet-up. The events of the day replayed over and over in his head, and the more they did, the more a heaviness settled on his shoulders. The last time he'd flown with Ghost was the day of the accident. Flying with her today suddenly forced that awful memory to the forefront of his mind in a way he hadn't experienced in years.
Hangman numbly shut off the water and dried off before throwing on some casual clothes and collapsing onto his bed. He pulled out his phone and opened his pictures, scrolling far, far back until he arrived at the first photo he'd been seeking: Ghost and Ghoul. It'd been of the two girls the first day they met as roommates. They'd hit it off instantly, and Ghoul- a.k.a. Lydia O'Donohue- insisted the two girls take a photo to commemorate the day. Ghost had forwarded it to Hangman, and he remembered her adding the comment: Hope your roommate is as awesome as mine!
The following photo containing the two girls was taken on Ghost's birthday. They'd convinced some senior cadets to take them off base over the weekend and milked it for everything they could. It was freezing cold out, but Ghost and Ghoul apparently felt nothing in their cute little dresses and heels.
The next photo showed the girls staring in exasperated boredom as someone opposite them rambled on about who knows what. Hangman couldn't recall who'd been sitting with them during that moment, but he had taken the picture to commemorate their priceless, judgemental expressions.
He flicked through some more, landing on one of the girls in black dresses beaming at the camera. It'd been their junior year, and they'd been able to leave for the long weekend to head to the lavish Jefferson Hotel, where they went to celebrate Jackie's upcoming graduation. The following two photos were from their senior year, where they attended a fancy graduation dinner at a seaside restaurant and the afterparty.
Coyote, having been Hangman's roommate, was in a lot of photos, too. He either beamed at the camera or stared longingly at Ghoul, whom he'd been in love with from the moment he'd been introduced to her. They hadn't become a couple until their senior year, though, namely because Ghoul was the female equivalent of Hangman: outgoing and unwilling to settle down. Where Hangman had slept with most of the girls at the Academy except for Annalise and Lydia, Ghoul had slept with most of the guys, save for Hangman and Coyote.
"I respect y'all too much," Lydia had declared in her thick and sweet Georgian drawl. Still, all it took for her to drop the habits was for Coyote to drunkenly admit his feelings; the rest was history. The memory of it all still made Hangman smile, but it would always swiftly be replaced by heartache. He missed Ghoul, but he knew his pain was nothing compared to Ghost and Coyote: the former, who had clung onto her backseater's limp body in the crashing waves while waiting for the rescue chopper, and the latter, who had planned on proposing to her when they returned home.
Hangman shut off his phone and squeezed his eyes shut, hating going down memory lane like this. It's why he kept himself so busy all the time. If he kept himself occupied, his brain couldn't travel back to the dark memories and dark thoughts.
"Get it together, man," Hangman grumbled, sitting up and pushing himself off the couch. He ambled to the bathroom to make himself presentable, determined to have a good night at the Hard Deck, repeating in his head: What's past is past.
****
Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989
Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14
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#top gun#top gun fic#maverick#rooster#hangman#phoenix#bradley bradshaw#iceman#bob#jake seresin#coyote#payback#fanboy#omaha#yale#halo#fritz#harvard#tg2#tgm#top gun maverick#fanfic#jake seresin X oc#pregnancy#grief#foxtrot#alpha
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