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luvkyu · 9 months

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what are we? ( park jongseong/jay )

jay x male!reader

jay and his best friend define their relationship.

content : 1.5k words, fluff, high school!au, bub pet name toward reader

a long, drawn out yawn left y/n's mouth as he looked out of the window in his last class of the day. his closed palm supported his chin on top of his desk, completely spaced out.

"y/n?.. bub!"

y/n snapped of his trance to see his friend standing by his desk now.

"class is over?" y/n asked as he looked around to see everyone gathering their things. jay snickered and nodded.

"daydreaming again? you can borrow my notes again if you need to," jay offered. y/n clicked his tongue as he stuffed his books carelessly into his bag. jay smiled to himself, watching him struggle with the tetris game that is fitting everything into one bag.

"sorry that i don't really care when some not-really-that-important person in history took a shit in 1875 or whatever," y/n responded with another yawn.

jay rolled his eyes and stuck his hand out for his friend to take. y/n finally stood up from his desk before seeing the gesture. he happily took jay's hand as he swung his bag over his shoulder. jay then led the way out of the classroom, following other eager students who were ready to get home.

y/n felt his heartbeat intensify just like it always did when jay held his hand. no matter how many times he silently scolded himself, the feeling never went away. the pair had been friends since their first year of middle school, and y/n's feelings seemed to grow by the day. it didn't help that their peers would ask frequently if they were dating yet, as they were usually holding hands or displaying other kinds of affection. y/n always assumed jay just didn't care what others said or thought, but he was starting to grow desperate to know if the male really only saw him as a friend.

"oh hey, i forgot," jay's voice cut through the noise of the hallway while the two stopped at their lockers, "tonight is the film festival i told you about like a week ago. i know it's short notice, but do you wanna go with me?"

y/n's eyes brightened in excitement at the invitation. there was nothing he'd rather be doing on his friday night than spending time with jay.

"of course, that sounds fun!" he replied. jay nodded, turning his face away from the other to hide his smile.

"cool. well, i have a study group i'm meeting in five minutes, but i can pick you up later and we can go together?"

"sure, that works!"

jay closed his locker while nodding again at the reply. he ruffled y/n's hair fondly before putting his newly filled backpack on.

"i'll text you, bub."

y/n nodded and watched him turn to head toward the library. his nerves, as usual, were left a mess from the nickname jay frequently used. he finally looked away when jay turned a corner, out of sight. he then resumed moving the rest of his books and materials into his bag and closed his small locker door.

before turning to leave, he saw another friend skipping toward him energetically.

"woah, this is the first time i've seen you not with your boyfriend, y/n!" sunoo exclaimed, stopping in front of him. y/n rolled his eyes.

"not my boyfriend, sunoo."

"tsk, sure. not yet."

y/n scrolled through his instagram feed as the opening credits of a film began to play. he was now sitting on a blanket that jay had brought along to the festival. the male had just left to get them snacks and drinks, insisting that y/n stay and relax.

the weather was perfect for a movie night. there was a large screen set up and fairy lights streamed in a few places. many other people were scattered across the grassy hill with blankets and comfy chairs. y/n couldn't help but notice all the couples. he hadn't thought about the fact that the film festival would be filled with couples on dates. the idea of this being a date with jay then seeped into his mind, and it made chills go up his arms.

"okay, i got popcorn and some candy and drinks!" jay's eager voice brought the other out of his thoughts.

"oh, thank you," y/n responded. his cheeks now glowed with a bright pink, which didn't go unnoticed.

y/n watched jay sit down closely next to him, getting settled with the snacks. jay took another large blanket and draped it over their legs while y/n decided to brush off his thoughts for now. if he focused on such things, he knew he wouldn't be able to really enjoy their night together, date or not.

"you okay, bub?"

y/n looked at him and gave him a convincing smile.

"i'm fine!"

jay grinned at the cute response and nodded before the duo turned their attention to the screen and began eating.

throughout the movie, they managed to finish their popcorn and naturally move closer to each other without a thought. jay's arm soon hung around y/n's shoulder while the latter's head rested on his chest. this was nothing abnormal for the pair, having cuddled many times before, but something felt off. something different was in the air between them tonight and y/n couldn't decide if he was crazy or if jay could feel it too.

"open," jay said quietly as he held two pieces of candy in front of his friend's mouth. y/n smiled and obliged before jay fed him one piece and popped the second into his own mouth. y/n looked up at him, but jay's gaze was already turned back to the film.

y/n's line of sight suddenly landed on his other friend from a ways away. sunoo was comfortable with sunghoon on their own blanket, but sunoo's view was trapped on y/n and jay, making kissy faces toward them. y/n felt his anxiety rise, hoping jay wouldn't see.

to y/n's relief, sunghoon saw sunoo's teasing. unsurprised, he simply turned sunoo's head back to the screen and pat his head as if saying, 'now stay'. y/n made a mental note to thank sunghoon later.

eventually, the film finally ended and chatter filled the area. jay yawned lightly while y/n stretched in his arms.

"there's another one playing right?" y/n asked.

"yeah, but i think there's a small break before it starts."

y/n nodded and sat up to stretch a bit more. jay gazed at his friend, a little disappointed at the loss of closeness. he watched y/n run a hand through his hair and then check his phone for any notifications. jay felt mesmerized by the view, but could feel nervousness sprout in his chest. he didn't think this was how just friends were supposed to feel. he'd been unable to decipher his feelings in the past, but lately they'd become much clearer.

jay's thoughts were cut off as y/n set his phone down and went back to cuddle him. he now laid on top of jay with his head on his chest again, jay's hands going to play with his hair.

jay couldn't stop a smile from curving on his lips. he somehow felt his confidence bubble up in that moment, deciding to finally go for it. but before he could speak, y/n beat him to it.

"jay?"

"hm?"

"what are we?"

jay's heart skipped a beat.

"oh.. well," he paused. what exactly were they? y/n meant the world to him. he was the first person he thought of in the morning. he was the first person he shared good news with. y/n was just everything.

"we're best friends," jay finally said. he couldn't quite read y/n's reaction, but decided to continue anyways.

"but i'd like to be more."

y/n's face brightened now, a little shocked.

"really?? like.." he stopped while jay smiled again and nodded.

"like boyfriends," jay finished for him.

y/n's whole face went red, unable to stop his own smile now.

'boyfriends', he thought. the simple word ran on repeat in his head for a minute. this couldn't possibly be reality.

"boyfriends.. jay's boyfriend. y/n and jay boyfriends," y/n mumbled in awe. jay laughed lightly at his disbelief.

"you're so cute.. is that a yes, then? ..boyfriends?" jay asked. y/n finally looked at him again and nodded happily.

"boyfriends," he replied as he tightened his arms around him. jay quickly hugged him back as they laid on their blanket in content.

"y/n?"

the male looked up again at the sound of his name, meeting jay's gentle eyes.

"can i kiss you?" he asked. y/n's smile somehow grew even bigger. he nodded again before jay moved to press their lips together softly.

once separated, jay pulled their second blanket back over them as the next film's intro began playing. y/n's head rested on his chest again, not really caring much for the film as nothing could quite amount to the comfort of his new boyfriend.

#enhypen #enhypen jay #park jongseong #enhypen x male reader #enhypen x reader #kpop x male reader #male reader #jay x male reader

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phoenixs-fandoms-and-writings · 5 months

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Soothing Touch

Fandom: Anna Karenina

Pairing: Count Alexei Vronsky/GN!Reader (the two of them are married)

Summary: You had a bad day mentally and when your husband finds you, he helps you through it by just being with you.

Reader’s gender is not specified.

Notes: this was written in response to Flufftober’s Day 28 Prompt: Soothing Touch. @flufftober

I do not own Anna Karenina or Vronsky

Also, I should note this is my first time trying to write Vronsky.

I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.

Read on AO3 here.

You didn’t know what was wrong, but today you just couldn’t focus. It was a bad day for you. You really wished your husband would come home soon. He always made you feel better, no matter what was going on in your head. He hated that you had days like this, but always loved being close to you and that’s what you needed.

You heard one of the doors close, but you didn’t get up or move from where you were sitting on the floor. It wasn’t long before you felt someone help you stand and helped you over to your bed. When you looked up, your day brightened immensely because looking down at you was your husband, Count Alexei Vronsky.

You smiled as you lifted your hand to his face. “You’re home,” you whispered.

“Of course, my love,” he replied softly. “I would never leave you long. I love you so much.”

He sat on the bed against the wall and asked, “will you join me?”

You moved up to him, before kissing him and sitting in between his legs. He held you to him with one arm around your waist and ran his fingers through your hair in a soothing way. It made you hum as you closed your eyes.

“I’m happy you’re home,” you told him. “I was having a bad day. You being here makes me feel better.”

“I’m happy to be able to make you feel better, my love,” he responded before kissing the top of your head.

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Tagging: @vanessavampiaives

#anna karenina 2012 #anna karenina #count vronsky #alexei vronsky #alexei vronsky x reader #fluff #flufftober #flufftober 2023 #hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort fic #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj x reader

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

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aaaaah my heart died of tenderness with rook's hdcns with lipstick buuut now I beg you plss ;u; I need one the same but with vil schoenheit plsss ksjsks I also want to fill vil's face with kisses (/ u \)

the queen's markings

Pairing: Vil Schoenheit x gn!reader

Synopsis: he wouldn't lose a competition in something he's an expert in, but it's more fun than he expected

Tags: established relationship, kissing, lipstick marks, crack, bot proofread

Word count: 491

Notes: happy birthday @v-anrouge! i hope this vil fluff brightens your day aster, thank you for always bringing fun energy into my feed hahaha (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

rook's part here!✧Masterlist

The rules are simple: you would take turns with a one-minute timeframe to shower the other with kisses and leave lipstick marks behind. The one who leaves the most marks by the end of the game would win.

really??? that's such a messy idea?? and you're just making a mess that you'll have to clean up later

if you wanted to kiss him, you should've just said so ;)

Vil doesn't really get the appeal when you tell him the idea

but once he agrees, as with everything, he's very meticulous about it, deliberately choosing the perfect lipstick that would transfer well and match your skin tone

he wears makeup so often, he's basically an expert in the transferability and durability of makeup

only usually he's trying not to get his lipstick smeared

but when it's your turn, he can't deny he enjoys having you place kiss after kiss on him

though the stickiness of the lipstick is a bit messy, he loves the warmth of your breath against his skin, accompanied by the gentle touch of their lips

there's a proud smile on his face as you litter his face with kisses

surprisingly, the game is really relaxing, although he could really do without the messiness

when it's his turn, his posture straightens slightly while he scans your face to see where to start with each delicate touch of his lips, he strategically places precise and vibrant lipstick marks, ensuring maximum impact and coverage

he pays attention to every detail, from the angle of his kisses to the intensity of his affection

he moves swiftly, yet with calculated precision, ensuring that no spot on your face is left untouched

aaand ding ding! when times up, he steps back a bit, his chest rising and falling with a mixture of excitement and satisfaction as he admires your flushed face

he shouldn't find it attractive really, it's messy and sticky and gosh he hopes it doesn't leave a stain, but he can't deny how satisfied he feels having so thoroughly marked you, and how alluring you look in the moment

the two of you definitely take pictures together to commemorate

he's never going to show anyone this picture, he's the only one who can see how beautiful you are

he's very likely to win, he knows the ins and outs of his makeup, so he definitely has an advantage there

okay, it's cleansing time

if you clean your face properly, he'll pamper you with a little skin care/spa session

"Darling, if you desired my kisses, a direct request would have sufficed," Vil smiles teasingly, tilting your cheek upwards. "I suppose I can partake in this game, but I don't quite understand the appeal."

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you covered in his meticulously placed lipstick marks, a mix of pride and affection evident in his expression. "Ah, my dear, you wear my affection so well," Vil murmurs, his voice infused with a sense of satisfaction.

"Now, it is imperative that we clean up properly. It is essential in maintaining the health and radiance of our skin," he says, his voice carrying an air of authority. "Come, I prepared some face masks for us to enjoy."

rook's part here!✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland vil #vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil schoenheit x reader

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gayaest · 4 days

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as a disabled person with an NJ tube, i just wanted to let you know how much your art, especially rawiya, means to me 🥹 i never see art of people with feeding tubes, and it makes me so so happy to see rawiya slaying with one!!

Thank you so much!! I’m really glad one of my characters resonates with you so much ❤️ it brightens my day and makes me really happy!

Rawiya ❤️ my beloved

#asks #anon #my art

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

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Color Theory

Jeongin x Female reader

Word count: 7.2k

Synopsis: Your world is varying shades of grey until you meet your soulmate, Jeongin, who brightens up your life in more ways than one.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! This, I swear to God, went from I have no idea for this story to 7.2k words and I have NO idea how. I hope you enjoy though! If you do please reblog, like, comment, shoot me an ask. I love hearing from you all it makes my day! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, character death, unprotected piv sex (please use condoms), cum shot, cum eating (a teensy bit). I think that's everything but if I missed something let me know and I'll add it asap!

Your mom was teaching you your primary colors. You had learned your shapes and you were working on numbers and letters and now she was working on your colors, an important part of your mother’s world being an artist. Your mom didn’t get why you were having such a hard time getting them right when you had picked everything else up so easily. It was your dad that actually mentioned the possibility of you being color blind as he was passing through the living room where you and your mom were playing during a break from his writing.

She realized your dad might be right so she set up an optometrist appointment for you and had your eyes examined. When the doctor looked, he determined that you had monochromacy or in other words you were completely color blind. It was quite rare really, most people that were color blind had trouble seeing certain colors, but you saw none which was so rare it happened to one in thirty-thousand people worldwide. Being a girl made it even less likely as well since color blindness occurred more in men than women but you were the one in thirty thousand apparently. Your mom’s heart broke a little knowing you’d never get to know and love colors the way she did but she made sure that art was still a part of your life.

You were thankful for that because art ended up being your outlet, your escape, your fantasy world to get lost inside. Any form you could create in you would, drawing, pottery, pastels, but you especially loved painting. You used an array of colors but only ever saw varying shades of gray so you used a lot of texture in your art as well. You became quite well known among the avid art collectors in your city for your unique style and the lack of your ability to see colors. Your paintings were variations of colors chosen by someone with no idea what color was, with the textures it was art that came off the canvas. Your name finally got passed around enough that one of the more selective galleries asked you to do an exhibition. You were working on some canvases for that when your mom walked into your studio. She set down a tupperware bowl and made her way over to you. She wiped at paint on your face shaking her head.

“You wear as much as the canvas does sometimes.” You nodded knowingly.

“I know sometimes I get lost in it and the next thing I know I have spackle caked in my hair.” If anyone understood it was your mom. She looked at what you were working on.

“You’re using a lot of pinks and reds in this one.” You looked at it.

“Have I? I stopped looking at the names on the tubes.” Your mother nodded, examining the amazing work you’d done only knowing black and white and the grays in between.

“I think this one will be my favorite when it’s finished.” You smiled. She was so proud of you. Then she pointed at the food she brought, knowing if she didn’t, you wouldn’t stop and eat. She distracted you just long enough to get you to break away and feed yourself. About halfway through your food your mom got up, squeezed you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m going to get home sweetie. I have to make sure your dad eats too.” She shook her head at the likenesses you shared with your father.

“Don’t stay up all night.” You nodded knowing damn well you probably would. You had paintings to get done.

“Okay mom I won’t.” Your mother looked at you knowing it was complete bullshit but smiled and headed out.

“I love you sweetie.” You waved as you headed back towards your canvas.

“I love you too mom.” You put your headphones on and got lost in your canvas again. When your dad walked up behind you he scared the absolute shit out of you. You looked at the time and were surprised at how late it was, you pulled your headphones off.

“Dad wha-” The look on his face told you something was horribly wrong.

“It’s mom...” He said and you started to shake your head no as tears came to your eyes.

“No.” He walked towards you trying to grab your hand and you backed away.

“It started to rain, and the car slid...” You kept shaking your head back and forth.

“She’s okay she’s just hurt. Right?” Tears streaked your dad’s face.

“Right?!” Your dad shook his head no.

“She... she didn’t make it sweetie.” You collapsed to your knees and your dad grabbed your shoulders making sure you didn’t hurt yourself falling. You looked up at the half eaten food on the table that she had brought you. If you weren’t so worried about the stupid exhibit, if you had just taken enough care to eat, if she didn’t think she had to bring you dinner, she’d still be alive. When you left your studio that day, you locked it and refused to step foot in it again.

Your dad made all the arrangements and somehow you made it through your mother’s wake and funeral. You moved in with your dad after your mom died and took care of him. Made sure he ate, lifted his head from his computer from time to time so his eyes didn’t burn out of his head. You had wanted to get rid of your studio. Just sell it and let whoever bought it toss the paintings, but your dad wouldn’t let you. He told you to hold onto it, just because you didn’t feel like you could now, didn’t mean you never would. He hoped one day you’d go back to your painting. Two years went by and as fast as your name had been passed around it disappeared from people's lips just as quickly. You were glad.

You were starting dinner and writing down a grocery list when the house phone rang. Your dad was elbow deep in his novel, he wouldn’t stop for a house fire, so you answered it.

“Hello?” You heard a man clear his throat on the other end of the line.

“Oh hi! Uh, My name is Yang Jeongin...”

“We don’t want to buy any but thanks.” You hung up and started to head back over to the food on the stove. You just stirred the sauce when the phone rang again. You sighed and walked over to answer it again. More irritated this time, you were going to burn your dinner.

“Hello?!” He cleared his throat again.

“Hi sorry, I’m not selling anything I’m trying to find an artist by the name of y/n?” You froze, speechless.

“Hello?” Click. You hung up again and walked over to the dinner. The phone rang again and you let it but it kept going and going. You stormed over.

“What do you want!” He was surprised at your outburst.

“I... I... uh are you Ms. Y/n?" His voice had gotten small and you started to feel bad for blowing up on him for no real reason. You sighed taking a deep breath.

“Yea. I’m y/n.” He suddenly got very excited on the phone.

“Oh! Okay um I'm so sorry to bother you but I am a HUGE fan of your art work and I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a commissioned piece for me?” You pinched the bridge of your nose trying to fight off the headache that was creeping up behind your eyes. You sighed.

“I don’t paint anymore.” He hummed.

“Oh...”

“Yea so goodb-”

“Why not?” You were starting to get angry again. You had listened to him and answered him, what more did he want?

“That’s really none of your business. Goodbye.” You hung up and finished dinner. You and your dad sat at the table together as you ate.

“Oh who called earlier.” You shook your head taking another bite.

“No one.” Your dad hummed looking at you.

“What?” He shrugged.

“No one called three times in a row.” You sighed frustrated by your dad’s persistence sometimes.

“Okay! It was some guy asking me to paint him something. I’m not going to.” Your dad nodded.

“Some guy? Did he say who he was?” You nodded and continued to try and focus on your meal and not the conversation you didn’t want to be having.

“Yang... Yang Jeon or something like that. It doesn’t matter, I don’t paint anymore.” Your dad dropped his fork.

“Yang Jeongin?” You shook your head.

“Yea that was it.” Your dad sat there speechless.

“What dad?” He finally snapped out of it.

“You’ve never heard of Yang Jeongin?” You shrugged.

“No?” To be fair when you painted you didn’t keep up with anything on tv or the news. Even now that you didn’t paint you still never really turned on the tv.

“His family is the Yang in the LeeYang corperation. You know that name.” Well yea everyone knew that name, even if you lived under a rock. There wasn’t a single household that didn’t have something made by the LeeYang corp.

“Jeongin is the grandson of the head of the company and his dad is on their board of directors. He was just named the city's most eligible bachelor; his family is old old money.” You shrugged, picking up your plate and walking it to the sink.

“Okay so what. I still don’t paint.” Your dad picked up his plate and took it over to the sink too.

“You could.” You started to fill the sink with water and soap. Your dad stopped you and made you look at him.

“It won’t start to heal until you do sweetie.” You stuck your hands down in the water and shook your head as you tried to will away the tears welling in your eyes.

“No dad.” He sighed, kissed the side of your head and went back to his computer to get back to writing while you cleaned up dinner dishes. That night you laid in bed restless, hoping the clicking of your dad’s computer keys would put you to sleep like they had so many times as a child but you couldn’t. At around two you hollered.

“Bed dad! Brains need sleep to write novels!” You heard him sigh heavily and get up. You weren’t sure when you had turned into the parent. He stopped at your door.

“Goodnight sweetie.” You nodded.

“Goodnight dad.” Thankfully, eventually, you did manage to fall asleep and get a few hours of rest. The next day while you were doing the grocery shopping your cell phone started going off. You grabbed it thinking it was probably your dad wanting some sugary snack. He needed to start eating better and if he asked you for cupcakes you were going to get him apples and bananas. It turned out it wasn’t your dad. It was an unknown number but local so you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/n? It’s Jeongin. PLEASE don’t hang up!” You sighed and pushed your cart down the aisle. Holding your phone with your shoulder as you continued to grab things.

“It’s really not a good time Mr. Yang.”

“I’m sorry I really don’t mean to be a pest. Please call me Jeongin.” You stopped and held onto the phone.

“What can I do for you Mr. Yang?” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Uh well I was hoping that maybe you might reconsider doing the commission? Money is no object...” You hummed.

“I’m aware of who you are and what you have Mr. Yang. I don’t really care. I’m also certain that I’ve told you three times now that I no longer paint.” You hung up on him again and went back to grocery shopping. Jeongin was frustrated. He was usually one to accept a no when that was the answer but he loved your work and he didn’t know why but he needed to get you to paint one for him.

He’d bought so many of your canvas’ from other collectors,for a good deal of money since you disappeared and were no longer painting. No one knew why just that you left the scene two years before, overnight. It had been difficult to dig up contact info on you and after going through all that Jeongin was hopeful that if he asked and said the right number that you’d paint for him. Apparently you didn’t give a shit about numbers which Jeongin found endearing as much as he did frustrating.

A couple days later you were reading a book in the living room when the house phone started to ring. You closed your book, got up and answered it.

“Hello?” Nothing silence.

“Hellooo?” You heard a breath.

“Fuck off perve-”

“Wait wait! It's... I’m not... It’s Jeongin.” You rolled your eyes and sighed irritated that this man was calling you again.

“What do you want Mr. Ya-”

“To apologize...” You stopped surprised to hear his answer.

“For what?” He was surprised to not hear a dial tone.

“For being pushy and not taking no for an answer the first time. If I offended you, I’m deeply sorry.” You felt a little bad. He hadn’t offended you he was just picking at a scab he had no idea about.

“It’s fine Jeongin...” He let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay, thank you for taking my call. Have a good day Ms. y/n, goodbye...” You stopped him just before he hung up.

“WAIT!” He hummed acknowledging he was still there. You were already kicking yourself. You couldn’t believe you were about to say what you were going to say. Why were you going to say what you were about to?

“I’ll do the painting.”

“What?!” Jeongin couldn’t believe his ears.

“I’ll do the painting. Email me your specifications and-” He interrupted you.

“ANYTHING! Literally just do anything you want and tell me a price!”

“Okay okay Jeongin fine.” He wanted to ask a question but he didn’t want to push his luck either. He took a chance.

“Uh would I maybe be able to come by your studio sometime? Once you’ve started?” You hadn’t been to your studio in two years. Your dad stopped by to pick up mail every so often but you had no idea what kind of condition it was in.

“Maybe, let me get it started. Typically I don’t have spectators, especially not the customer.” He understood that and was thankful you were even considering it.

“Yes okay that’s fantastic! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“Okay Jeongin, I’ll be in touch soon.” You both said goodbye and when you turned to go back to your book your dad was standing there.

“Did I just hear you say you were going to do the painting?” You opened your mouth to complain about his eavesdropping but he quickly cut you off.

“You know what! Forget I said anything! I didn’t hear a thing!” He ran towards the kitchen for a drink and back to his computer before you could start in and you shook your head going back to your book. It was pointless trying to read anymore. All you could think of was a canvas and how you’d move the paint across it. You slammed your book closed, grabbed your car keys and headed towards the studio.

When you got there you stood at the door for a long time. The last time you’d been in there was the day your mom died. When you finally willed yourself to go in it was like stepping into a time capsule. All your paintings were exactly where you’d left them and the one you had been working on was still propped against your easel. You walked up to it and looked at it like your mother had, then picked it up and moved it against one of the walls. You grabbed a fresh canvas, put it on the easel and stared at it, looking for the picture inside it. You stared and stared but you couldn’t see it anymore. Something your mom had planted in you was what made you see it before but she was dead and so was the plant. A whole week you kept going back staring at the blank canvas finding nothing in it.

Week two you were standing in front of the blank canvas, your headphones on trying to find some kind of inspiration. You about jumped out of your skin when someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You turned and there was a man in a button up shirt and suit jacket. He had fox like eyes that were narrow but some how still seemed kind. You both stood there stunned for a moment. You pulled your headphones down.

“Uh... can I help you?” You wanted to be mad that he’d intruded but he was so beautiful you couldn’t bring yourself to be. You were just curious who this man was standing in front of you staring at you. He shook his head as if he were getting the thoughts in order.

“OH! Uh, yea! I’m Jeongin, we spoke on the phone?” Oh. No wonder he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. He was a work of art himself. You still had no idea how he found your studio or what he was doing there.

“Oh Mr. Yang yes, um...” He smiled his eyes scrunching up.

“Please Jeongin is fine.” You nodded.

“Yes of course, Jeongin. How did you find me?”

“I hope it’s okay. I called you a few times and then your house, your father finally answered, he told me I could find you here.” Of course he did you thought to yourself.

“I don’t mean to be impatient I’m just excited to see any progress that you’ve made, no matter how little!” You turned and looked at the blank canvas behind you as he started looking around the room at your artwork.

“Which one is mine?” You pointed at the blank canvas and he looked surprised.

“Oh... I see. Um... well... what’s wrong?” He didn’t mean for the question to come out like it had but as soon as he asked it your face scrunched up angry.

“What do you mean what’s wrong?! It doesn’t just create itself! Why don’t you try to make art out of colors you can’t even see and see how quickly you get it done!” He put up his hands trying to calm you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you I just meant like... is it why you stopped painting?” You tossed down your headphones angry.

“I’m pretty sure I said that was none of your business!” Jeongin was doing a terrible job at digging himself out of the hole he’d created.

“You’re right I’m sorry it is, I didn’t mean to pry I just, if I can help...” You walked over to the door and opened it.

“Right now you can help by leaving.” He bowed and walked towards the open door. He looked at you as he passed by.

“I’m sorry I intruded. I won’t bother you again, I’ll wait for your call.” He rushed out and down the stairs towards the exit of the building. You slammed your door shut and walked back over to the canvas picking up your headphones and staring at it angrily. You glanced over at the painting you’d worked on the night of your mom’s accident and then did a double take. You saw the shades of red your mom had mentioned when she had looked at it. How? You rubbed your eyes expecting everything to go back to normal but when you opened them you saw shades of blue in other paintings lying around along with the red.

They were all so bright it almost hurt to look at them and then slowly you saw yellow start to seep into your vision. First a pale yellow then a yellow as bright and vibrant as the reds and blues you could see now too. It wasn’t just the paint though everywhere throughout your studio reds, blues, and yellows popped. You rummaged through your paint tubes grabbing the colors and started smattering them across the canvas adding spackle and sand, cotton and ripped paper. When you stepped back you were covered in the vibrant colors and you had Jeongin’s painting started.

That night when you went home your dad was as happy as he could possibly be to see you walk in covered in paint. You didn’t mention the colors. What if you went to bed and woke up and they were gone? You decided if it didn’t go away you by the time you were done with the painting, you’d tell your dad. The next morning when you woke up you looked at your coveralls from the day before and there, smeared all over the front of it, was red, blue and yellow. You were ecstatic! You pulled on another pair of old bibs and ran to head to the studio. Your dad hollered on your way out the door.

“Hey! Breakfast! Most important meal!” You waved as you grabbed your keys.

“I’ll grab some on the way! See you for dinner dad!” He waved and smiled, grabbing his toast and coffee, heading back to his own work as the door slammed closed behind you. When you got to the studio you started staring at the canvas blankly again. When your cell phone rang it gave you an excuse to look at something else other than your half-finished painting. It was Jeongin. So much for not calling you. You felt kind of guilty for going off on him so badly the day before so you answered.

“Hello?” He always cleared his throat before speaking to you, like he was struggling to form his words.

“Hi y/n, it’s Jeongin... well yes... you know that. Uh... would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow?” You were confused, did he have more questions? He probably wanted to fire you or...

“Like... a date?” You asked and he started to stammer. This man was the most eligible bachelor?

“Well... um... yes? If you want to! No pressure! I’ll still buy the painting either way!” You were a little flabbergasted.

“Uhhh... I... yea... I guess so.” He let out a huge breath.

“REALLY?!” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his shock.

“Yes Jeongin. I will meet you tomorrow for a coffee date.” He laughed and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Great okay! Uh... eleven? The shop around the corner from your studio?”

“See you then.” You hung up and started staring at your canvas again frustrated. You made little to no progress the rest of the day and you went home discouraged after having such a burst of inspiration the day before. The next day you went to the studio early, trying and failing to make a little more progress. Before you left to head to the coffee shop you took a couple pictures of what you had done on your phone so you could show Jeongin. When you walked into the café Jeongin was already there waiting at a table. You walked over and he stood up smiling pulling a chair out for you. You bowed smiling.

“Thank you.” He nodded, his cheeks a little pink. The two of you ordered coffee and broke the tension with a little small talk. The conversation naturally evolved into likes and dislikes and you asked a lot of questions about Jeongin trying to keep the topic of conversation off of you. Before you knew it an hour had gone by.

“Oh, wow has it been that long?” Jeongin asked.

“Yea, I should probably head back to the studio and try to get some more done.” Jeongin’s eyes lit up.

“More?!” You had completely forgot to mention the painting.

“Oh yea, well... after you left the other day I made some progress and got it started, here I’ve got some pic-”

“Can I walk you to the studio and see?!” Jeongin’s eyes were scrunched up and his dimples were showing. You’d had a nice time; you didn’t see why not.

“Okay, but only for a minute, I need to work more.” Jeongin stood up excited. He grabbed your coffee ticket and his and started for the register.

“Oh you don’t-” He shook his head.

“Oh no... there’s no way in hell you’re paying for your coffee.” You chewed at your lip and smiled, looking down nodding. He was usually kind of shy around you, soft spoken, so to hear him say something so assertive... well it’s shouldn’t have done the things to your body that it had. Jeongin paid and the two of you walked towards your studio. When you got there Jeongin walked up to the partially finished canvas and looked at it. Something about the way he looked at it from different angles and so closely reminded you of how your mom used to look at your paintings and your heart squeezed inside your chest.

“It’s amazing the way you use colors like this while not being able to tell them apart. This is beautiful already. I don’t know why you would ever stop painting.” Your heart squeezed tighter in your chest and you looked over at the painting from the night of the crash. Jeongin kept looking at the textures and colors, the words that came out of his mouth next shocked not only you but him too.

“Was it your mom’s accident that made you stop, don’t you think she’d want you to continue?” He’d seen articles about the accident when he looked you up. Your jaw dropped as tears instantly welled in your eyes. Jeongin stopped looking at the painting and looked at you as he realized immediately he’d overstepped.

“What?” You heard him loud and clear you were just in disbelief.

“I...” You had snapped here and there at him but this was an all-out explosion.

“DON’T talk about my mother and DON’T assume to know me because you like my work Mr. Yang!” He shook his head.

“It’s not that! I...” You cut him off.

“Is the painting worth more to you knowing that my mom’s death was what made me quit!? That I couldn’t look at a paintbrush or canvas because all I saw was memories of my mother!? Do you need to know that to feel more connected to it!? My mother died because I was stubborn and she brought me food so I’d eat while I worked on my stupid paintings for a stupid exhibit that didn’t even matter! She crashed driving home after leaving here! I killed my mom! My selfish need to create at all costs killed my mom!” Jeongin shook his head as his eyes teared up.

“y/n... no...” You looked at him your cheeks and neck damp with your tears. You started pushing at him screaming.

“Get out! Get out! Just leave me the fuck alone! Leave me! ALONE!” You sank to the ground in front of your canvas just like you had the night your mother died. Tears were streaming down Jeongin’s face now too. He wanted to hold you. Tell you that you were wrong. That your mom dying was just an accident and it wasn’t your fault.

“Get out...” You sobbed, your words a whisper. Jeongin didn’t say anything else he turned and walked towards the door. Just before he shut it he spoke, his voice low.

“I’m sorry.” The door clicked closed and you laid on the floor crying until you fell asleep. You woke up to your cell phone ringing. You grabbed it and squinted looking at it. It was your dad. It was dark now, he was probably worried. You quickly answered.

“Uh... hello?” Your dad could tell he’d woken you up.

“Oh thank god! I was worried when you weren’t home for dinner.” You started apologizing for worrying your dad like that.

“I’m so sorry dad, I fell asleep and I guess I slept longer than I...” You turned on the studio lights and when you looked around you saw greens, and purples, orange. You stopped talking.

“y/n?” Your dad’s voice pulled you back to the conversation.

“Uh slept longer than I meant to. I’m sorry dad I’ll sleep here tonight and be home first thing in the morning.”

“Okay honey, text me when you leave and please be careful?” You hummed absent mindedly.

“Hmm I will dad. Love you.” You hung up and immediately started going through your painting tubes again, you grabbed greens, purples, blues, reds, you mixed new colors and threw paint on the canvas like it would put itself where it needed to go. A lot was still black and white but now there were so many colors! When you finished the painting, you stood back taking it in. It was the most beautiful piece of art you’d ever made. It was vibrant, colors and textures rising off the canvas but it also had a feeling underneath, a sadness, the loss was still there even though you’d gained so much color. You started to cry again, at the pain, at the beauty. When you finally pulled yourself together you pulled out your phone and texted Jeongin.

You: The painting is done. I’ll have it ready for pick up in two days.

Jeongin: I... what?

You: You still want it right?

Jeongin: YES! I DO!

You: Okay it’ll be ready Friday by five

Jeongin: I’ll see you Friday five o'clock sharp

You saw the chat bubbles appear and disappear over and over like he was writing and deleting something multiple times.

Jeongin: y/n?

You: Yes Jeongin, what...

He tried to write sorry a thousand different ways but no matter what he typed out it wasn’t right. Sorry over text for what he’d done wasn’t right.

Jeongin: Thank you

You: You’re welcome

Two days had come and gone and you could still see all the same colors. Inspiration was coming to you a bit more freely now that you’d completed Jeongin’s piece also. You still hadn’t told your dad that you were seeing colors, you still didn’t know what it meant or why it was happening so how were you supposed to explain it to him? You were working on something new when Jeongin knocked at your studio door. Right at five, just like he’d said. You opened the door and he stood there a moment just looking at you. He shook his head and snapped out of it.

“Uh hi! I might be a little early.” You opened the door more letting him in.

“No you’re fine, right on time. You walked over to the completed canvas leaned against the wall and Jeongin followed. When he looked at it his eyes welled up with tears instantly.

“It’s beautiful.” You bowed.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Jeongin turned facing you.

“y/n... I...” He was sorry. He wanted to say he was sorry but his words refused to come out once your eyes bore into his, big and glassy. He took a step towards you closing the space between you, his hand cupped your cheek and before you knew what was happening his soft lips were pressed against yours. Your eyes closed tightly as you kissed him back. He pulled away and you stood there, your fingers pressed to your lips, your eyes closed. When you finally opened them everything was in full color. Red and purple and every color in between. A tear slipped down your cheek and you suddenly realized it was Jeongin. The colors were appearing because of him. He swiped your tear away.

“Please... don’t cry...” You shook your head wiping your face.

“No Jeongin you don’t understand... I don’t know how or what is going on but... I can see colors!” His face scrunched in confusion.

“I thought you’re color blind.” You shook your head smiling ear to ear.

“I am! I was! I don’t know! Every time I’ve been near you more colors have slowly appeared and just now when you kissed me... I can see it all! I can see color!” You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again. Jeongin wrapped his arms around you, tilted his head and deepened the kiss, taking your breath away.

“Will you go to dinner with me tonight?” Jeongin asked with his forehead resting against yours and you nodded.

“Yes, yes...” You kissed him again and then looked down at your paint splattered overalls.

“Uh... let me run home to get cleaned up and changed?” Jeongin shook his head smiling so big his eyes almost disappeared entirely.

“Text me your address when you’re almost ready and I’ll pick you up.” You were grinning like a fool, you kissed him again three pecks and started backing up towards the door.

“Lock up for me please!” He nodded and you dashed out the door to go get ready as quickly as possible. When you ran into the house you almost ran your dad over.

“Woah woah there speed racer where’s the fire?” You were an idiot. Only just then did you think to tell your dad, everything happened so fast.

“Dad!” He smiled happy to see you so excited about something.

“I can see colors!” He stood up straight and looked at you crazy.

“What?” He asked like he knew you were pulling his leg.

“Dad I swear to god, every time I've seen Jeongin, after I would start seeing certain colors, then he kissed me today and it’s not black and white anymore dad I can actually see colors!” You thought your dad’s reaction would be excitement, hugging you, maybe crying. His face scrunched up.

“He kissed you?” What a dad thing to do, miss the whole point and zero in on that part.

“Yes dad he kissed me.” You rolled your eyes. If at all possible your dad started dadding even more.

“Well I haven’t even met this boy and he’s kissing you?” You shook your head laughing.

“Dad! I told you I can see colors and you’re worried about a boy kissing me?” He shrugged, pouting a little.

“I’m happy but I just would like to know this young man’s intentions.” You hugged your dad.

“Well you’ll get to meet him tonight, he’s picking me up for dinner in a bit.” You started running up the stairs towards your room.

“I have to get ready!” Your door slammed shut behind you and your dad finally let the smile creep onto his face that he’d been holding back. It sounded to him like you’d found your soulmate. It was instant like that for him and your mom too. One touch and they knew. Your dad still missed her every single day, he always would.

Surprisingly you were able to get dressed quickly and you cleaned up nice. A nice black little dress, your hair pulled up and actually paint and spackle free, a little bit of eyeliner and mascara. You noticed a pretty red lipstick that popped out at you and chose that for a final touch. When you walked down your dad was sitting in the living room with Jeongin who looked as nervous as the first time he’d talked to you.

“Dad?” He smiled innocently.

“Yes pumpkin?” You pinched his arm.

“Stop scaring him.” Your dad feigned pain and laughed. He leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“Have fun sweetie.” You smiled and motioned to Jeongin for you to leave. He stood up quickly and walked over by you, his hand resting at the small of your back instinctively.

“It was very nice meeting you sir. I promise I’ll keep her safe.” Your dad could feel it when he’d met Jeongin too, whatever pull there was between you was strong. Your dad knew Jeongin meant it from the bottom of his heart when he said he’d keep you safe.

“I know you will.” Your dad smiled and headed up to his study to put his nose to his screen, he had a novel to finish. Jeongin was an absolute gentleman the whole night, opening your car door, helping you in and out, helping with your chair. You had gotten cold on the small walk you took and Jeongin put his jacket over your shoulders. You burrowed in and it smelled like his cologne and something that was just him, you couldn’t place it but it made you feel warm all over and your body erupted in goosebumps. Jeongin had been holding your hand and noticed.

“You’re cold, let’s get back to the car.” You nodded and he led you back up the walkway towards his car. He opened the door again and helped you in before closing it behind you. He ran around and got in shutting his door then looking and smiling at you. You wrapped your arms around Jeongin’s shoulders and kissed him deeply. Your lips parted, tongue teasing. He held your face as you made out in the car for a while. When you pulled away you gripped at the collar of his shirt, panting and biting your lips.

“This is where I’d invite you to spend the night but I live with my dad.” You huffed out a breathless laugh and Jeongin’s heart raced faster, spend the night?!

“Uh... I live alone, you could come back to mine...” You smiled and kissed him again.

“I’d love to.” You sat down in your seat and buckled your belt. Jeongin’s smile was so big his dimples looked like they never ended. He started the car and headed towards his apartment. If you could call the penthouse of a building his grandpa owns an apartment. When you were with Jeongin you never thought about the fact that he was a Yang and came from money. He was just Jeongin to you, shy, sweet. The apartment reminded you quickly.

“Holy shit! You live here alone?!” He walked towards you and pulled you close.

“Not forever hopefully.” He said cocking an eyebrow at you and you laughed. You started to laugh but then Jeongin’s lips were on your skin moving down your neck and your laughs turned into breathy pants. He claimed your lips again and you started to unbutton his shirt before running your hands up his firm chest and pushing it off his shoulders to the ground. You started to kiss across his shoulder, gently grazing your teeth against his skin and he shuddered. You pulled away and turned, your back facing Jeongin now.

“Will you unzip me?” He walked up behind you, his face buried in your neck as his hands worked your zipper down. Your dress fell off you and when you turned around you were completely naked and Jeongin’s brain checked out.

“Fuck you’re a work of art!” You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him.

“Take me to bed Jeongin, please.” His lips couldn’t be bothered to leave yours as he led you to his bedroom. You worked at his belt pulling it open and off before tossing it and starting on his button and fly. When his pants were loose, they fell and he stepped out of them as he continued leading you towards his big soft bed. When the back of your legs touched the bed you crawled back on to it. Jeongin confidently dropped his boxers and rightfully so. He was not... lacking. He crawled on top of you hooking his arm under your knee and pulling it up, spreading your legs open for him. Before he pushed into you he looked into your eyes. He looked like he was watching the film of your future in them.

“I think you’re my soulmate.” When he said it is when it clicked. Of course. You nodded, your eyes tearing up. When he sank into you, you moaned closing your eyes, a tear slipping down. Jeongin let go of your leg and wrapped it around his waist as he pulled out and pushed into you deep again. He leaned over kissing the skin your tear had rolled down. You opened your eyes and were in awe at the sight of him above you. His dark hair, narrow eyes, his strong chiseled frame held up over you so he didn’t crush you under him. You pulled him closer wrapping your arms and legs around him, wanting him to crush you.

“Faster please...” You whispered and Jeongin’s body moved faster on top of yours. You could feel the pressure building already. You gripped his hair and kissed him as your bodies moved together his cock constantly moving against that place inside you that made your toes numb.

“God yes! Right there!” He fucked you harder and you could feel your climax making the hundred-yard dash towards the finish line.

“I... I... I’m g-gonna cum! FUCK! Don't stop!” Jeongin’s lips overtook your moans as he rolled his hips into you. You didn’t know how he kept doing it but every time you were with Jeongin he showed you new colors. The colors exploding behind your eyes as you came were moving and alive. Jeongin didn’t slow down. No, he sat up as your hands still gripped and clung to his shoulders and fucked you faster with the intention of reaching his own climax and prolonging yours.

“Yesyesyesyes oh it feels so good Jeongin! Mmmm...” a few beads of sweat dripped down the hard lines of his torso as he felt his orgasm approaching.

“Oh go-fuck! I’m gonna cum jagiya!” You moaned and nodded unable to form words anymore. Jeongin pulled out and came on your tummy and pussy. He stroked his cock as he coated you in his cum. He trembled as he worked every drop out onto you. He sat back on his legs, his head towards the ceiling, his eyes closed as he caught his breath and came down. You laid there a million bumble bees buzzing inside you. You ran two fingers through his cum and sucked on them. He looked down at you sweaty and laughing from the euphoria. Once Jeongin was able to function again he ran and got a washcloth to clean you up with. When you were all clean he crawled back into bed and pulled you close, your head resting on his chest, listening to his slow steady heartbeat.

Later, after some digging, you found out you were in fact soulmates. Jeongin never knew why he was so driven to collect your art but it had felt like each piece he got was a piece of you, he felt closer to you with each one. Then he finally searched for you to ask you to paint something and well the rest played out. Jeongin took all the artwork he purchased and opened a gallery for you. You continued painting and even finished painting what you’d been working on the night of your mom’s accident. It was put up in the gallery as a memorial to her. Your dad finished his novel, you found the love of your life and your love for painting again. Your life was no longer a theory of color, it was a spectrum, a prism. It was all the colors your mother had dreamed for you and more.

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice630 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics @chansducky10 @starfire21 @cessixja @siewoon @berryberrytan @binnies-minsung-fanclub @lethallyprotected

#stray kids smut #skz smut #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#skz317cb97 soulmate au series

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jasontoddsdarling · 3 months

Text

snow angels

— casts: jason todd x reader, aurora todd (my kid oc)

— words: 1,515

— tags: fluff, winter, family fic, family fluff, kid fic

— summary: It's Aurora Todd first winter and you two decide she should experience the ultimate first time under the snow: building some snowmen and one or two castles. And apparently also snow angels along the way.

Heavy snowfall from yesterday—that kept everyone inside the house all day long—resulted in a thick layer of snow in the backyard. You, Jason, and your fourteen months old daughter, Aurora, included. You two even built her a blanket fortress from the pile of her soft baby blankets. She was very fond of it.

Today, Jason and you decide to bring her outside.

It's her first winter, thus the first time she will experience the snowfall that blanketed the city like icing sugar dusted on a beignet.

Earlier, Jason had shoveled the snow that piled up in front of the front and back door. Thankfully, it wasn't blocking the doors that bad or else you'd feel bad about not helping him—even though he had insisted on doing it himself because she was cranky waking up and you'd have to feed her.

Now, though, your daughter is so awake and definitely not cranky anymore.

Jason has put his shovel back to the garage and changed his clothes to newer one—he had managed to sweat and drenched his sweater, and he's currently sporting a new sweater that matches the ones that you and your daughter wear.

“Papa.”

You put Aurora on her colorful foam puzzle mat. Jason, who is just getting out of your bedroom, smiling when he spots her.

“Who's going to play with snow today?”

Jason sits down on the edge of the mat and he beckons his daughter to his lap.

Aurora enthusiastically walks toward him—with her brand new baby boots that you just put on her, a big smile with her four small teeth showing.

“Nou.”

She perches her little legs on one of his thighs. You gasp and cannot help but grin. Did she just say a new word just now? Nou. Snow.

Jason beams. You can see his eyes shine with proudness.

“Yeah, snow. Snow! You, Mama, and Papa will go outside and we can build some snow castles and snowmen. Now, you need to wear these warm mittens first, okay?”

You observe the two loves of your life while packing a little thermos of jasmine tea to drink outside. These two always without fail put a smile on your face.

And oh, Jason is wearing gloves with the same color theme too because, of course, he would not want to be excluded in the matching outfits shenanigans of you and your daughter. We've to match as a cute little family, Jason had said so almost a year ago—after for the third time you and Aurora had matching outfits and he was being excluded; which in your defense, most husbands don't really care about matching outfits with their baby daughter, but you learnt it wasn't the case with Jason.

Jason tugs Aurora's mittens to make sure it's right before holding her in his arms and standing up, walking towards you who stands beside the dining table.

“Come on, Mama.” He squishes his cheek on Aurora's, whispering to pretend as if it's your daughter who’s saying that.

Aurora giggles. “Mama, mama.”

You bend down a little to kiss her rosy cheeks—and Jason steals a kiss from you when you stand straight after that—and the three of you are ready to mess with snow.

Jason has finished building one snow castle just now. It's a cool snow castle, in your opinion—considering he's only using some plastic snow toys for kids that you got for Aurora.

The kid in question sits on your lap, and is currently playing with the scallop shell plastic mold and making her nth crooked shell shaped snows with so much interest, completely oblivious to what her dad has been doing.

“Rora, look!” You pat her tiny leg gently. “Look. Papa has built you a little snow castle!”

You point your finger at the 1 meter tall snow figure. When Aurora looks up from her stuff, her eyes brighten and she moves her arms and legs excitedly, wiggling and trying to stand up from your lap.

You help her stand on her own little feet, her tiny boots scrunch the snow.

“Papa. Nou.”

Jason—who just put a twig on the center of the castle as a fake flag—grins. He waved his hands, beckoning her to walk towards him and the snow castle.

“Papa, papa.”

Aurora walks giddily.

You walk at a snail's pace to ensure that she steps safely, because you know sometimes babies and toddlers can be quite clumsy, and your daughter is no exception.

Aurora is two meters before landing herself in his dad's arm when, instead, she's landing backwards on a pile of fluffy snow with a very dull thud.

“Rora!”

Jason and you immediately shout at the same time and in less than two seconds both of you are in front of her.

Aurora is silent for a second, that you are almost panicking, but then she bursts into a fit of giggles. She moves her arms and legs in ups and downs motion, unknowingly making herself a snow angel.

“Mama, Papa.”

Aurora waves her mittens clad tiny hands. She wants you two to do what she's doing.

“Well, I guess we're making snow angels too.”

“I know. I am just glad she isn't crying.”

You release your breath you know you were holding.

You lie down beside your daughter on one side and Jason on her other side and you two proceed to make your own snow angels.

After it is quite deep, Jason gets up from where he's lying down and takes some photos of you and Aurora with his phone and instant camera he hides inside his deep coat pockets.

“One, two, three. Smile!”

And so, the next ten minutes, Jason takes a lot of photos of you and Aurora in front of the snow castle.

“These are so cute.”

It's 8:30 pm. You and Jason just put Aurora to sleep in her room, you're lying on bed with your head propped on a pillow and Jason's shoulder.

You scroll on Jason's gallery, currently landing on the selfie of you, Jason, and little Aurora in front of the snow castle and the two snowmen on each side of the castle—snowmen that later the three of you built after snow angels' antics. The snowmen are guards, Jason had said.

Jason's shuffling and looking at the printed photos he (and you) took with the instant camera, while occasionally brushing your raven black hair that fans the pillow.

“Lovely snow angels.” Jason mutters.

You laugh. You immediately scroll towards one picture of the three of you as snow angels. “Yeah, that one was cute too. It's fortunate that you brought your tripod outside so we could take a photo with the three of us as snow angels.”

“I meant this.”

Jason shows you one printed photo from the instant camera.

“Oh.”

It is a photo of you and Aurora as snow angels, the sunlight reflecting on the snow and bouncing a very faint light on your smiling faces.

“That’s…” You almost can't say a thing. “So beautiful.”

“I know.”

“You're very talented, Jason.” You look up and give him a soft smile.

“It's not as much talent as what's the subject of the photography.”

“Hey.” You can't help but chide him.

“It's true.”

“It's not.”

“It is.” Jason says with a finality. He puts all—the photos except the one on your hand—on the nightstand beside him.

“Both of you are just the loveliest snow angels. My literal angels.”

“Oh, Jason…”

“My only angels. You and Aurora.”

That's it.

You drag his face towards you with one of your hands behind his neck. You kiss him deeply and slowly. You can feel his pulse beneath your fingers and run your hand up and down his nape.

Jason shudders and he kisses you deeper, if it's possible, and you let out a small moan.

At last, you separate your faces from each other to inhale some air.

“Jason, I love you so much.” You caress his jawline, looking at his perfect shade of viridian eyes.

“I love you more.” He looks at you as fondly. Sometimes it's hard to breathe everytime he does that.

“I love you more and more.”

“I love you–”

And that's where you two hear a cry from Aurora's room. She's awake.

“I think trying to tell us she's agreed that I love you more.” Jason snickers.

You huff, moving your body to get up from the bed. “She's trying to tell us she wants to co-sleep with us again tonight.”

“That's fair too. Still, I love you more and more and more, though.”

“It’s me, actually, but I will let you win.”

You almost land your feet on the floor when Jason immediately stands up.

“Let me get her or I love you more and more and more.”

You can't believe your husband's antics but you smile ear to ear nonetheless.

“Fair. Go get her, Papabear.”

“On it, Mamabear.”

Jason shouts I love you more and more and more when he's in another room with Aurora's “Papa” accompanying it.

mariea's note: guess who decide to go all in and repost the fic from my ao3 here? anyway here's the og appearance of my jason todd's kid oc aurora "rora" todd 🤍

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dad jason todd x mom reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd's kid oc #kid oc #kid ocs #aurora todd #dad!jason todd #mom!reader #jason todd fluff #mariea's fics #mariea's works #mariea's writing

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year

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your instagram feed as a pastry chef dating carmen berzatto (& headcanon)

i made this as a companion piece to 'make my heart surrender.' reader's instagram feed after you move to chicago and headcanon about boyfriend!carmy.

if you haven’t yet, you can read ‘make my heart surrender’ here.

images are all from pinterest. if you own one of these and would like me to take it down, please let me know! i could see reader's instagram feed looking something like @apartmentmiso's insta.

your life in chicago would include:

when you first move to chicago, the two of you are like giddy kids in love who can't get enough of each other.

while you get your own place, it's almost a moot point because you spend so much of your time together between the restaurant and sleepovers. it doesn't take long for you and carmy to decide that you should just live together. and six months later (spring 2023-ish) his lease is up, and since he has less crap to move, he decides to move in with you.

it's certainly an adjustment, and it's important for you to have separate spaces/hobbies too. carmy def has an avoidant attachment system (and you def have some strong avoidant tendencies too), so you both need space sometimes to go to shut down for a little bit. sometimes your relationship feels like it's moving so quickly, and other times, it feels like a natural pace considering you platonically dated for years before.

carmy as a boyfriend: carmy is such a loving boyfriend. we know that he is an acts of service king, so while he may not always have the right words to convey his feelings or communicate (he's working on it) he's always looking for a way to show you he loves you. since this is his first real relationship, you have to be patient with him as he learns how to be a partner. it works because you know he is trying, and you often remind him that it's like when you guys were best friends in new york, except now you get to have sex.

this is a deeply passionate relationship because you both very intense people in your own ways. being loved causes carmy to soften a little. though he's still just as laser-focused and commanding in the kitchen, he's also more openly empathetic. as he explores what connecting with you feels like, it helps him connect with others better. being loved by carmy brightens you, lifts you up, and makes you feel lighter.

when the time is right, you ask him if it's okay to call him by the family nickname, 'bear.' it feels too intimate to do off-the-cuff, and he's more than happy to say yes.

lots of farmers' market dates when you both can get a saturday or sunday morning off.

being there for him as he feels more and more ready to talk about his relationship with mikey. every anniversary and birthday feels heavy, especially as carmy starts processing his grief and guilt.

when you get into fights because he's being a dick or not letting you in, or you're pushing him too hard, you both agree to take a time out before having a conversation. even when it's a big fight and there's yelling and arguing (and maybe some argument sex), you both are committed to making this work. it's surprisingly healthy and a product of the both of you being in therapy.

the first time you fight, carmy freaks the fuck out and thinks it may be over, and you have to explain to him that sometimes couples fight. you both agree to love each other, even when you hate each other.

you both love a secondhand moment and spend your days off thrifting vintage denim and one of a kind pieces. you're that annoyingly stylish couple that always looks good and always finds the best things secondhand.

in terms of separate hobbies, you get really involved in your local urban garden and begin to help create programs/workshops within their org to foster food accessibility. this becomes a big passion of yours, and it leads you to getting selected for one of the summer james beard chef bootcamp sessions (advocacy intensive for policy change in the food industry)

making the most stunning cakes in and outside of the restaurant (here me out but i feel like you have somewhat of a strong instagram presence as a pastry chef).

speaking of social media: i have this headcanon of everyone realizing that angel has a knack for social media / storytelling, so he takes over the social media account from richie and carmy. angel becomes the main character of the social media account and it's kind of iconic.

you and sydney become close friends, and at some point, you try to set her up with a sous you used to work with who has just moved to chicago.

you love taking photos of carmy when he's not looking -- especially at work. and he hates it but he actually loves the fact that you have a full camera roll of photos of him.

on a day off, one of your favorite things to do if you have the energy, is to make an extravagant layer cake (or some other indulgently time consuming food project) with the windows open on a perfectly warm spring day just for fun. other days the two of you lay around, sleep in, and enjoy doing absolutely nothing.

the two of you adopt a little black kitty from a local shelter and name them aioli

helping carmy adjust to having more downtime when the bear begins hiring more staff and he's not needed 24/7. he struggles with letting go of some control, but begins to appreciate having more than one day off a week.

nsfw thoughts:

okay so we already know that our acts of service king loves to go down on his partner. like i'm genuinely so obsessed with the fact that as a fandom we universally agree on this. he's also a bit of a people pleaser so... this just makes sense to me.

i do think, for the most part, he lets you lead as you probably have more experience than him, and he wants to learn what you like/don't like.

however, i think over time, he'd definitely gain more confidence in the bedroom and would feel more comfortable taking the lead more often.

the more confident he gets, the more you let him lead, and frankly, you find it really hot when he takes control. like i don't think carmy will ever be a dom daddy, but he would engage in some light spanking, leaving love bites all over you, and fucking you into the mattress by the end of the sesh.

carmy is def a needy bb who loves to be praised/hear that you're his, how much you need him, how good he makes you feel.

#carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender

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jahnavisurenda-21 · 2 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||Calming Afternoon

The weekend has just begun, and all my other outdated plans will just have to schedule themselves at my convenience. Food just seems to brighten the day, even in the most unexpected times.

It was an especially hot summer noon in hell, This wasn't a place where sinners were really into gardening, or watching cherry blossoms while they sip some green tea, it was unpleasant.

Unpleasant enough, to make Alastor cancel all his radio shows for the day, he told you, "I know my dear! Someone with style, and flare needs to make this hellish afternoon a little bearable but, you see my dear this sun has made me quite unmotivated to put the pen to the paper or sit at my office desk!"

You were a little disappointed, at his decision because you looked forward to his audios to add to your collection you had one for rainy day audios, comfort audios, he did those only for you, and some audios when you just wanted to hear his voice. Those audios always set the mood right.

Sometimes you would play them on repeat while drinking a can of soda, or drowning in caffeine when you just didn't feel like yourself.

Alastor picked up your sudden shift of mood, "My dear I promise to make you another audio, I'm working on that one for almost a week. It almost feels like a brag more than anything!" Alastor looked at you, "All though It flatters me immensely knowing you enjoy these audios more than those silly books you read, and that noisy picture box!"

You got excited, something he had been working on? For a week? You resisted yourself to ask more questions, Alastor would simply smile more wider than he usually did.

Sometime in the late afternoon, Alastor was looking at you with a disapproving look, "No, my dear, I must disagree I don't enjoy eating this lazy type of food it certainly gives no quality to the food. Nothing better than a homecooked meal."

Alastor, However, did cook the sweet dessert so ward or distract you from the sun and it felt even better when he shared it with you. Alastor had discarded the heavy coat and casually crept towards you where you lay you were flipping through a new romance book.

He should be asking you, where were you getting those books?

For the evening you were relieved to see some rain had cooled the land, and Alastor was stroking your hair, as he watched a movie you picked out on the picture box.

He was delighted to how these few hours had passed in your company, you were pleasant as always, he missed your voice. And was almost glad he feed you homecooked meals and prevented a day of lazy food.

The rest of the night you spent with each other where you talked about the things that happened over the week, what you intend to do, and to your excitement Alastor had created a meal prep plan for you, so you could enjoy.

Alastor is really good at cooking, it's like adding proportions to the meal flows in the blood, he teaches any recipe you particularly like. But he also loves it when you put in that extra effort to put together a good Lunch, or dinner. It's different when he eats your meals.

#lovestories #romance #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #beauty #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #foodie #food #recipe

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prince-liest · 3 months

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Omg, I just wanted to say I ADORE your characterization of Al and Vox! I don't even have the words to express how much I love reading your stuff, especially the Anon responses you post on here. The behind the scenes thoughts are literally my food, lifesource, its so good when people not only write characters IN CHARACTER, but also include stuff about their analysis/understanding of the character too.. I'm literally obsessed with breaking down characters and yk, cracking their chrome domes open to see how they work (which admittedly, I am not the best at <_< but I love reading them). Just wanted to say how much I love your writing. I had maybe 2 questions, please don't feel pressured to answer them :>

What in your mind (in reference to the 66.6 fics) would motivate Alastor to let Val get close to him in the first place? Or was that more you picking these two characters up by the scruff of their necks and plopping them into a hypothetical scenario to explore their character and write some fun intimate thingsTM?

What do you think of the dynamic of Vox and Al vs something like Lucifer and Al? Personally I've noticed that something Alastor craves, behind the mask of his static smiling persona, is attention. He's (at least how I saw it) usually peeved when people don't care about his absence, and seems especially bothered by the King of Hell refusing to really acknowledge him, so he goes out of his way to push Lucifers buttons (like calling himself a father figure to Charlie, IN FRONT OF HER ACTUAL FATHER LOL) whereas with Vox, Vox is literally CONSTANTLY thinking about Alastor. Man literally interrupted his regular TV program to do a segment about how much he totally didn't at ALL care about Alastors dissapearance or the fact that he returned (suree buddy). So Alastor can have more fun with him and annoy him by ignoring and messing with him on purpose.

ty if you do respond to this, sorry if it was hard to understand, sometimes I forget how to put the thoughts in my brain into coherent words!

Ahhhh, thank you very much, anon! I'm especially happy that you're enjoying my commentary on Tumblr, haha - I spent a while on Twitter because that's where all the fandom zines I was in were being hosted, but nothing beats Tumblr for giving me a nigh-unlimited word count and a captive audience for my rambling! >:D <3 I'm back to cocooning myself on the OG hell site.

Thank you for this ask, it really brightened my day! :D

As for your questions:

1. I'm assuming that was a typo and that you mean Vox (but in case you did mean Val: that was just a funny accident of him walking by the room! Alastor wasn't paying enough attention until it was too late), and to that I say:

I think Alastor allows Vox to take a go at him in canon because he finds Vox's obsession with him to be entertaining, but also because Alastor is kind of a narcissist and that same obsession massively feeds his ego, especially in a political climate that otherwise forgot about Alastor. Vox's whole "Who gives a shit about Alastor coming back?! Haha, now let me have a public meltdown and short out power to the whole city about it! Oh, fuck, why is he back, though?? Can we send a spy in to find out??" is exactly the reaction that Alastor wants every time he mentions his mysterious absence and gets brushed off.

At the same time, Alastor doesn't seem to register Vox as a sincere and genuine threat. He's a big enough fish in the Pride Ring pond that his obsession with Alastor is gratifying, but Alastor's self-absorption also doesn't really allow him to treat Vox as a threat tier above "annoying in a funny way, and also television is stupid." (Perhaps this will change in season 2... :eyes: (or perhaps Alastor will get Even Worse) (please god let him get even worse))

So those two things in combination make Vox the perfect candidate for Alastor to experiment with while maintaining his ego and not feeling particularly threatened. Despite Vox's Safeword 101 talk, Alastor would never put stock into that system with Vox unless he was certain that he himself would be able to back up a 'no' with overwhelming force. Him even considering safewords in the Live On Air! series is less for his own sake and more a politesse he offers on Vox's request to warn Vox to slow the fuck down before Alastor tries to put his insides on the outside.

2. And in direct contrast, we have Lucifer...

... Who Alastor obviously actually cares quite a bit about, because he's a whole nother power tier from both Vox and Alastor, and furthermore and possibly even more importantly, a credible threat to Alastor's relationships and standing in the hotel. I think a lot of discussion I see about Alastor prodding Lucifer seems to talk about how quickly he got annoyed about Lucifer's comments, but that misses the fact that he was pissed off before Lucifer even showed up. He got pissy the moment he saw the welcome sign, actually! And I wager that he was narratively absent for the scene where Charlie actually calls Lucifer because he would have done his best to manipulate her out of doing so had be been there.

And given that the two clearly haven't met before (though obviously Alastor knows of Lucifer - and hates that the inverse isn't true, hah), it's not 100% clear exactly why he's immediately so annoyed, but in my personal view of things and barring something like "he's projecting onto Lucifer because his contract is with Lilith," I think that what we know of Alastor's personality points most strongly to "he liked being the hotel's benefactor and sees it as His Project, and doesn't like the idea that Charlie called daddy for something that she thought mysterious, powerful Alastor couldn't handle." He distracts a lot with obviously-goading comments about practically being Charlie's dad in his duet with Lucifer, but underneath that he puts a lot of emphasis on the work he's done for the hotel and the fact that he's been supporting Charlie and the hotel from the start, so why the fuck is this deadbeat asshole suddenly turning up?!

Tl;dr: Charlie missed her insight roll on Alastor's personal investments and he's sooooo offended - and taking it out on Lucifer!

I think one of my favorite things about both Lucifer and Alastor is that they both sooo obviously belong in the Pride Ring, hahaha.

#ask #hazbin hotel #alastor #vox #radiostatic #my writing #anonymous #long post #part of the reason I love Alastor so much is that pride is also definitely my sin of choice #I relate to you #you horrible little narcissistic maniac you #meta #personal

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thoughtsforsoob · 2 months

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hello!!! is it okay if I ask for something when you’re overwhelmed with adulting and you feel helpless wanting to be a kid again so you go cry to yeonjun and he comforts you I need it so bad rn 😭😭

a/n: Im clearing out my inbox at the moment! I am doing my best but it might take me a little while. im trying to get back into writing so hopefully I can get back into the swing of things soon. please enjoy and as always, inbox remains open!

yeonjun had been waited at home for you for over 2 hours. you were supposed to have come home and long time ago yet you were nowhere to be found. this left yeonjun a little worried but also frustrated. he'd had a really long day for shoots for their new magazine cover as well as recording for an upcoming single release. despite his mixed feelings, he remained seated on the couch of your shared apartment.

after the fourth hour of waiting, he heard keys enter the lock at the front door and the door eventually opened. he stood up to go greet you at the door but was immediately concerned. you practically stumbled in. Your shoes were untied, hair no longer up as it was this morning, mascara running down your cheeks and overall, just looking disheveled as ever. he knew something was wrong and was going to get to the bottom of it.

he grabbed your things from you and set them down. he helped you take your shoes and coat off and once you were all ready to come inside, you just broke and wrapped your arms around him.

"jun, im so tired." was all you could muster in your exhausted state.

"I can see, dear. im going to help you recover. I dunno what happened to you today but you are clearly in need of a recharge. how about you get in the bath and I'll handle dinner?" he hugged you tight and kissed your forehead when he was done speaking. you agree to the bath so he runs upstairs and runs a warm bath for you to soak in for a little while, even sneaking in some bubble bath solution to brighten your evening.

once your bath was over and you were in a comfortable pair of pj's, he helped you down stairs to eat dinner. he'd made you a comfort soup and he even helped to feed you, jokingly making airplane sounds to see you smile. he hated seeing you so tired and over it. he knew this wasn't like you.

once dinner was all done, he took the bowls to the sink and then took you to the couch. he make sure to bring out all of your favorite fluffy blankets and pillows so you'd be comfortable. he got the both of you situated on the couch and turned on the tv. you were basically laying on top of him but he could care less. if it made you happy then so be it.

when turning on the tv, he turns over to you and smiled, "maybe we can watch some cartoons?" you nod and he picks something fun and light hearted to watch.

#txt fluff #txt imagines #txt post #txt #tomorrow x together #txt headcanons #tubatu #txt yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun fluff

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senditcolton · 4 months

Text

maybe this Christmastime, you'll realize

song inspo: santa doesn't know you like i do word count: 3k warnings: none, just pure holiday fluff (christmas centric)

a/n: i'm back!! and what better way to celebrate the conclusion of my graduate degree by giving you all a barely edited, written last night, self-indulgent fic to feed my delusion of Tyson Jost being madly in love with me. glad to be back and can't wait to write for you all again!!

The heat that blasts from the oven is a welcome sensation, considering that your old apartment often struggled to keep in the warmth from your central heating. You lean in, your oven mitt clad hand reaching and grasping the cookie sheet.

You’d be the first to admit that you weren’t much of a baker. That was never your ‘job’ during holidays with your family. But you figured you would try this year since you wouldn’t have the opportunity to enjoy the homemade goodies your family crafted.

That was the reason you chose to bake cookies. The reason you chose to bake almond butter cookies was because of someone else. Someone who also wasn’t able to enjoy the comforts of home this year.

As if he could hear your thoughts, a knock echoes through your apartment. You quickly finish transferring the cookies from the still hot baking sheet onto the cooling rack before wiping off your hands and running towards the front door. You swing open the worn wood and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips when you see Tyson standing there.

“Hey. Happy Christmas Eve Eve.”

“Is that the official name?” he laughs, walking into your apartment like it was his own. Which considering how often he was over at your place, it might as well be.

“You haven’t seen that episode of Friends?”

“Guess not,” he shrugs, taking off his coat. “Smells nice in here.”

“Thanks. I tried my hand at baking.”

“And you didn’t burn the apartment down?” he smiles and you wish you could stop the way your knees weaken at the sight.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” you laugh, playfully shoving his shoulder. “You better be nice to me or else you won’t get any almond butter cookies.” This time, you didn’t want to stop the trill of your heart at the way his eyes brightened at your words.

“Almond butter?”

“Yeah,” you nod towards the kitchen, a silent invitation for him. He took your encouragement in stride, breezing into the other room and you were thankful that he was out of earshot when you said your next words.

“I made them just for you.”

You did. You also opened your home to him, welcoming him any day during this, the week of Christmas. But that was just because you didn’t want him to be lonely. That was all. That was the only reason.

It definitely wasn’t because of the crush you had been harboring for him since the first day you met.

No, absolutely not.

You take a deep breath before following Tyson into the kitchen, turning the corner only to find him already munching on a cookie, a grin on his face and some crumbs stuck on his facial hair.

“I know they’re probably not as good as Grandma Jost’s but –” Tyson cuts you off with a gentle call of your name.

“Stop. These are delicious. You did a really good job.”

“Thanks,” you say. It’s only then that you spy the backpack that he carried in with him, one that was now placed on your kitchen table. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” Tyson says, as if he just remembered it himself. You are even more curious when you see the blush spread on his cheeks, the rosy color having nothing to do with the lingering cold from outside. “I need your help.”

“Okay?”

“You mentioned that you were in charge of wrapping presents at your house for the holidays. And I’m really bad at it. I mean, usually I struggle through it or just put everyone’s gifts in bags…”

You gently interrupt his explanation with a laugh of your own, your brain goes over all the gifts Tyson has given you; mostly presented to you in gift bags.

“But since I can’t go home this year, I kind of want to – I don’t know – make more of an effort. Make it more exciting for whenever my family does get their presents. If that makes any sense.”

“That makes perfect sense, Tyson,” you reply. “Sit. Eat your cookies. I’ll get the wrapping paper.”

Only a few short moments pass before you find yourself sitting next to Tyson, wrapping the stockpile of presents he brought over and listening to him talk about anything and everything: details about the gift you were currently wrapping, his shopping adventures, the hockey season so far, friend and family updates, anything. You occasionally interrupt with questions about how he wants the presents decorated but he gives you a lot of creative freedom which you slightly admonish him for.

“Tyson, they should feel like they’re from you.”

“I’ll pick out the bows.”

That was how you continued, your focus on the folds and creases of the paper in front of you while Tyson talked.

You had gone through most of the gift he presented to you, your concentration entirely on the folding and taping that you perfected long ago. Tyson had gone quiet for a moment but you weren’t that concerned as you were still able to hear him rustling around in the bag that held all your bows, finding whatever color he chose for the current gift. You are just about to put the last piece of tape on when you feel Tyson’s fingers gently press against your head.

Your eyes snap back to him, only to see that adorable crooked grin on his face. You are pretty sure you knew what happened and your thoughts are only confirmed as you reach up and feel the paper of the bow pressed onto your hair.

“Is this the one you want for this gift?”

“It looks pretty cute on you,” he says and you once again have to force yourself to take a deep breath before your body acts of its own volition, revealing your feelings in probably the worst way.

“I’m sure it’ll look much better on the present,” you quip, taking it off your hair and replacing the tape before sticking it onto the silver paper. “Ta-da!” You push the present off to the side, adding to the slowly growing pile. “What’s next?”

You turn your attention to Tyson, but this time, he’s the one distracted. His fingers tap against his phone, typing out few quick messages, a small grin appearing on his face occasionally. You wait for a few minutes, just watching him until he feels your gaze and looks up towards you.

“Huh?”

“Which present is next?”

“Oh, last one,” he says, pulling the final gift out of his backpack and handing it to you. “This one is for Kacey.”

“Was that who you were texting?”

“No um, that was Mikayla. She’s this girl I matched with on a dating app a little while ago. We’re just getting last minute details ready before our date tonight.”

His words give you literal pause as your scissors stall on the wrapping paper, your smooth precise cut turning into a jagged edge.

“Tonight?” you ask, your question answered with an affirmative hum from him. You try to act nonchalant, a shrug lifting your shoulders as you attempt to focus back on the task at hand. “Seems a little odd – so close to Christmas.”

“Yeah, but it was the best day for her and I don’t have anywhere else to be, y’know?”

You try not to let his words sting, knowing he doesn’t mean them maliciously. He wasn’t with his family and you were just a friend. He didn’t have any commitments because he wasn’t committed to you. That was the simple truth.

“Yeah, I know,” you say, forcing your attention onto the cherry red wrapping paper in your hands; the one thing you could control. “I think a gold bow would look good on this one.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Tyson replies, typing out one last quick message before diving back into the bag to find the color you requested.

A few short minutes later, the presents are wrapped and placed back into Tyson’s pack, safe and ready for their return to his apartment. You watched from your couch as his throws his coat over his broad frame before swinging the backpack onto his shoulder.

“If you want, you can always come over tomorrow. I need some help finishing off those cookies,” you playfully tease, trying not to let your heart get too attached to the idea of spending Christmas Eve with him next to you.

“I might take you up on that,” Tyson says, shooting you a gentle smile before opening your door and leaving, the chill sneaking in from the outside and finding a way to wrap around your heart.

You know you had no right to be upset. Tyson wasn’t yours. He didn’t know the way you felt about him and there was no certainty that he would even share your feelings. He might only ever see you as a friend and if that was the case… he should be free to find someone who does love him.

But there was this stubborn part of you that couldn’t imagine anyone else loving Tyson as much as you loved him. You’ve been there through the good and bad. You knew his favorite songs. You knew how to make him laugh. And you would always pick up when he called.

Who else could say that?

You sigh, gently telling yourself that there was nothing you could do about it tonight.

Perhaps Christmas Eve might bring forth some holiday magic. Or maybe you should just throw in the towel, pray for New Year’s to come quickly so you could leave this heartache behind along with the holiday season.

You weren’t sure which to wish for so you just crawled into bed, feeling bluer that ever before as you fell asleep, trying not to think of someone else’s lips pressed against Tyson’s.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The lights in the tree blurred as you try to hold back you tears. You always seemed to cry during the holidays; you never really knew why. It just always came about this time of year. ‘Tis the season, right?

But this year, you could pinpoint the exact person that caused your tears to fall. Tyson Jost. The worst part about it was that it wasn’t even his fault that you were crying. It was all yours.

You woke up after a listless night of sleeping. When you went to check your phone, you hoped to see a message from Tyson but to your disappointment but not surprise, there was no notification on your screen. You managed to roll yourself out from underneath your covers and go about your morning routine before sending a text to him, saying that you hoped his date went well and that the offer to come over tonight was still on the table.

That was over twelve hours ago and all you received was radio silence from him.

Perhaps that is why you found yourself curled up underneath your tree, staring up at the lights in the boughs, trying to push back tears. It was a stupid reason to cry just like it was stupid to fall for your best friend. Stupid to think that he could ever see you as anything more. Stupid to think that maybe this Christmas would be the one where it all changed.

Stupid to spend your money on a new watch, wrap it up for him with a note documenting your feelings in the hope that he would open it tonight, here, underneath your tree while you both ate the cookies you made specifically for him.

Your fingers trace over the silk ribbon, fidgeting with the bow as the minutes tick by, your hope dwindling with them.

The receipt for it was still in your closet in one of your purses. You could return it on Tuesday, pretend like you never had this grand scheme and go back to being friends with Tyson. Give yourself another year to get over him. Maybe next year you finally would.

A heavy sigh escapes you as you spare one last glance down at the parcel in your hands before placing it back underneath the tree with all the other presents that your friends and family had sent to you.

It was a silly idea, an almost childish Christmas dream and now, you had to wake up. Tyson was dating other people and sooner or later, he would find someone who could give him everything you could and possibly more. Perhaps he found her last night and woke up this morning to her curled up in his arms and that feeling of love just struck him and if so, there was nothing you could do and –

The knock on your door startles you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hand hitting a few ornaments hanging down from the branches. You quickly grab them, stabilizing the fragile decor before you lift yourself off the floor, your blanket pooling beneath you before you wander to the front door.

You had no idea who was knocking at this time of night but you must have been too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, to care because you opened the door without a second thought. It took you a minute to fully register the person standing on your doorstep but when you saw those chocolate curls and those big brown eyes, you feel a sense of calm sweep over you.

Tyson always pulled that feeling from you. Even when he showed up unannounced on Christmas Eve.

Although you were happy to see him, the expression on your face was one of confusion. Why was he here, now, without a word of warning, after ignoring you for almost a full 24 hours? You are about to ask those questions but before you could get a word out, Tyson speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

His words catch you off-guard, the meaning behind them not yet clear to you.

“For what?” you ask him. Your breath shallows as he turns his gaze to you and you are struck by the earnestness reflecting in his eyes.

“For not seeing you,” he replies, stepping over the threshold of your apartment and closer to you. “For not seeing how wonderful and amazing and beautiful you are.”

“Wha – what’s happening?” you question, his words sending shockwaves through your body.

“I think a part of me always knew; that you were the one. But I ignored it for whatever reason. Fear, indifference, whatever. But last night, when I was on a date with another girl, all I could think about was you. How you make me laugh, make me smile. Pick me up and encourage me when I’m down. Do silly inconsequential things for me without expecting anything in return.”

Tyson continues to speak, becoming more assured and confident with every word, punctuating each sentence with a step closer to you.

“How you went out of your way to make cookies that remind me of home so I would feel less alone this holiday season. No one else has done anything like that for me.”

You had to be hallucinating or dreaming or something. This felt straight out of goddamn Hallmark movie – it couldn’t be real life. It was a fantasy brought on by sugar and heartache. But when Tyson reaches out to you, gently grasping your hands in his, you can feel the warmth of his touch run through you, warm and as real as it ever was.

“And I realized last night, alone in my bed, that I didn’t need the cookies, the presents, the bows and ribbons to feel like I was home,” Tyson confesses, his voice becoming softer as he pulls you closer. “Whenever I’m with you… that’s when I’m home. You are home to me. And I’m sorry for not being able to tell you sooner. I’m sorry it took this long for me to realize it.”

Tyson silences, looking into your eyes and you know he’s waiting for your answer but you were still trying to fully understand this whole situation. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that the man in front of you, the man that you had a crush for almost an entire year, just came to your house in the middle of the night and confessed his feelings to you.

Your body slightly jumps at the sound of your front door closing, the breeze pulling it shut but Tyson gently rubs his thumbs over the back of your hands, soothing you. A small jingle of a bell sounds from above you, brought on by the gust of air from the door. The noise pulls both you and Tyson’s attention away from each other towards the ceiling and you feel your cheeks warm at the sight of the green leaves with white berries, tied together with ribbon, hanging above you. The warmth intensifies as Tyson turns his gaze on you once again, that mischievous look in his eyes.

“Mistletoe? Really?”

“It’s tradition,” you mutter, your tongue finally being able to twist itself into words.

“Well, it is Christmas after all. I guess we shouldn’t break tradition,” he grins.

You force yourself to breathe as Tyson leans closer to you, your eyes fluttering shut when you feel his forehead press against yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your cheeks but his movements stall and when you don’t feel the gentle press of his lips against yours, you slowly reopen your eyes.

Tyson is still standing there, his lips only mere centimeters away from yours. It’s only then that you realize you’ve never given him a response to his confession. Haven’t yet told him that it was everything that you had been hoping to hear from him. But how could you possibly respond when it didn’t feel like there were words in the English language to describe the depth of your feelings?

The answer was simple.

You respond by lifting yourself up those final inches and pressing your lips against his. You pour every emotion you felt into that kiss and you could feel a piece of you settle when Tyson kissed you back with as much passion.

And you knew that this – wrapped up in Tyson’s arms underneath the mistletoe, his lips against yours – was the best present you could have ever received this year.

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