#took a while to finish but im so proud of this lol
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did some good progress on my wizard robe today
#wind howls#it took me a while to look for a pattern. every single result was either costly or hp related and i wanted neither#in the end i threw caution to the wind and just kinda. made it up as i went#im happy to report that it went pretty well !#and i made a really good hood for my robe ! from scratch ! no pattern ! and its lined and hemmed#and im Very proud of it :3#i wont be able to work on it tomorrow... but ill be working on it this weekend. ill add the hems to the sleeves and robe before-#i connect the side seams. itll look clean hopefully.... but i do have to trim the bottom of the robe first. its far too long lol#ill also add a middle panel thats yellow bc thats my secondary color :) then ill make the wizard hat#and if i have time left... ill add constellations and stars all around the robe. ideally sewn. if not ill either not do it or paint them on#but i also have an animation to finish and hand in by monday so i really should work on that first. thats a priority#and after all. halloween is on tuesday and i only have class at 2 pm#so if i wake up early then i can add more details and whatnot. i got this. im happy !!
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wanna bet?
quinn hughes x fem!reader
summray: you make a bet with quinn, which of you will win?
wc: 2.9K
warnings: nsfw 18+ smut, unprotected sex, p in v (practice safe sex guys!), oral fem receiving, spitting, cussing, dirty talk. there's some plot but it's mostly smut.
an: OH BOYYYYYY... i'm a little nervous to post this... GULP. it's my first time writing smut, so hopefully you guys all enjoy!! it took me like 4 hours LOL! writing smut is hard guys... thank you to all of my smut writing warriors. ALSO i tried my hand at making a header for my work, i kinda like it?? i cant tell if i ate or not..LMFAO. anyways im done yapping. like and reblog if you like, as always much love as always.
happy reading <3
“We should make a bet.” I say to Quinn as we’re getting ready for a home game between the Canucks and Winnipeg Jets.
He looks at me confusingly as he finishes tying his tie in the mirror. “What kind of bet are we talking about?” he mutters back. “I don't know, something spicy and fun '' I say, as I make my way over to him to fix his crooked tie.
“Hm..i like the sound of that” quinn says, as he rests his hands on my waist pulling me closer to his body. I chuckle at his sudden change in interest, finally fixing his tie, I rake my eyes over his face.
“I have an idea,” I say as our eyes remain locked, “and what's that baby?” Quinn says, I can feel his gaze now locked on my lips.
“If you score tonight, i'll let you do whatever you want to me.'' I say, as I slowly trace my hands around his neck to play with his hair, leaning my body further into his. “if you don't score, i get to do whatever i want to you, but you can't touch.”
I can feel quinns breath hitch in his throat, as I press myself completely against his front, planting soft kisses down his neck and across his jaw. His hands moving from my waist, to my ass, griping is hard and pulling me even tighter against him.
Quinn tips his head down to try and connect our lips together, I quickly move my head to avoid his kiss. “How do those conditions sound?” I say, looking at quinns now flushed state.
“They sound really good, baby, they would sound even better if you'd let me kiss you.” he says, slowly moving our faces closer together.
I slowly shake my head no, as I pull myself apart from him. “ I have to finish getting ready, and so do you.” I say, while looking at a wide eyed, flustered quinn.
“You actually hate me, don't you?” Quinn says, looking at me, still wide eyed. “no i don't, i just like making you suffer.'' I grin back at him.
“So are we shaking on this?” Quinn says, finally collecting himself. Without a word I held my hand out to him, waiting for him to grasp it. Our eyes are locked, as Quinn pulls his arm forward, his hand finally finding mine, pulling it into a firm handshake. “you're on Hughes,” I said to him. “No you're on, I'm scoring tonight, just for you baby '' Quinn says grinning at me like a kid in a candy store.
I step forward and press a sweet kiss on his lips, pulling away before he has the chance to deepen it, “may the best man win” i say before turning away from him, to finish getting ready.
I'm nervous, not for the game, but for tonight. My nerves are getting the best of me as I sit in the stands waiting for the puck to drop. My eyes follow Quinn as they warm up on the ice.
I'm starting to think I'm a dumbass for even betting on this. Quinn is super competitive, he's not going to let me win, but damn do I want to win.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of my head, I settle in my seat, gaze locked on ice as the first whistle signaling the game has begun goes off.
This is going to be a long game, a long night, I think to myself.
The Canucks win in a shutout, 5-0. I couldn't be more proud of them as they skate off the ice. Most importantly I couldn't be more proud of myself for finally winning a bet against quinn.
They played an incredible game tonight, with 5 amazing goals, not none of those coming from quinn. I couldn't help but secretly be happy that he didn't score.
I leave the stands and make my way towards the locker room, waiting for Quinn to finish up with getting ready and press interviews. Around 45 minutes later, I see Quinn make his way towards me. I open my arms to him, grasping him in a hug, “good game baby” I say to him as he pulls away, whispering a small “thank you” in my direction.
We start to make our way to the parking lot, silence surrounds us, it starts to make me nervous. “Any updates on Thatcher?” I ask, who went to the locker room during the second period, with an injury. “We don't know too much right now, hopefully we get some updates tomorrow morning on his status.'' Quinn says as he throws his bags in the back seat of the car, before sliding over to open the passenger door for me.
“Hopefully he’s okay, I'm sure he is. He's a tough guy, keep me updated when you get any information." I say to Quinn, as he's pulling out of the parking lot. “I will.” he says shortly. I frown at his shortness, in the conversation.
“Are you okay?” i ask him quietly, “yeah, im okay.” he replies back quickly. Not wanting to push, I decided that's a good enough answer, keeping my gaze locked on my lap the whole way home.
The car comes to a stop, signaling that we made home. I quickly got out of the car, wanting to escape the tension that was starting to suffocate me. Unlocking the door quickly, speeding my way upstairs to the bathroom, not even looking back to see if Quinn was behind me.
Closing the bathroom door quickly, I take a deep breath to regain my thoughts. Is Quinn mad at me? Is he upset over Demko? Upset that I won the bet? Upset that he didn't score? I don't want him to be upset with me, especially over this, this was supposed to be hot and cute and now i feel like it's blown up in my face. A bet that I don't even care about at this point.
5 minutes later, after I've calmed myself down. I see Quinn on the edge of the bed, when I open the bathroom door. Taking another deep breath, I start to make my way across our bedroom to the closet. As I'm beginning to pass the bed where Quinn sits, I feel him grab my leg, pulling me back towards him.
My nerves are rising again. I'm now in between Quinn's legs, looking down at my feet as I wait for him to say something. I feel his hands run up my thighs, gripping them with a slight pressure. Trailing them higher on my body, over the Hughes jersey that covers my upper half. Quinns hands, finding their home on my waist, for the second time today.
“Baby, look at me,” Quinn says, gently but with authority. I slowly lift my head up to lock my eyes to his. “I think we have a bet to take care of.” he says to me, my brain doesn't even register what he just said to me, before i start speaking. “are you mad at me? I feel like you're mad at me. We don't have to do this, it's just a bet it doesn't really matter to me Quinn. I thought this was a good idea earlier but now i dont think it's a good idea. I know you're definitely mad at-”
I'm quickly cut off by the feeling of quinns lips on mine. Taking me by surprise it takes my body a few seconds to respond. Once I do, my hands are instantly finding his hair, as Quinn pulls me down so I'm now straddling his lap, our kiss getting more intense by the second.
I began to grind myself on his bulge that I felt growing beneath me. Quinn begins painting beneath me, his mouth opening enough for me to slide my tongue into his mouth, pulling myself into him. Our mouths began to fight for dominance. Our bodies move against each other at a faster rate. Quinns hands pushed my waist hard against his, causing me to moan into his mouth.
Quinn pulls back suddenly, causing me to wine more. “Does it look like I'm upset with you baby?” he asks me as he starts to suck on my neck leaving kisses in his wake, causing me to arch my back closer into his mouth. Pulling away from my neck, looking at each other as we’re both panting. “I was acting like a sore loser” quinns says while rubbing slow circles on my thigh, eyes still locked with mine. “I don't like losing, and I really don't like not being able to have my way with you, not being able to touch you.” he breathes out at me. I'm struggling to find my words while he's looking at me like that.
“Quinn. I don't care about this stupid bet anymore, I want you now." I don't even wait for him to respond to me before I'm crushing our lips back together. The kiss is hot, with need and want. Our teeth and tongues clashing together.
I find the will to pull myself off Quinn, now standing in front of him. Without saying anything, I began to peel off my clothes. Pulling off the jersey, leaving me in a black lacy bra, and my jeans. Quickly moving my hands to my jeans, unbuttoning them quickly, pulling them down with my underwear, kicking them off my feet. Reaching behind me and unclasping my bra. Leaving me completely bare in front of Quinn.
“I want you naked, now.” I say to Quinn, who moves in supersonic speed pulling off his clothes and throwing them somewhere behind me.
“Fuck baby.'' Quinn says as he's pulling me into him again. “You look so hot right now, all for me too.” tracing his hands down my bare sides, causing my skin to erupt in goosebumps in his wake.
Leaning forward he begins to press kisses against my stomach making his way down to my pussy, my breath begins to hitch, I'm afraid my legs are going to buckle beneath me. “Can I taste you baby? I want to taste your sweet pussy, haven't in so long.” he says, as he slowly pulls my thighs apart. I can't find it within me to stop him, I don't care about the bet anymore. I need him to do something. “Yes please” I told him. He doesn't need to be told twice.
Quinn quickly throws me down on the bed, my body making a small thud as it hits the bed. Quinn immediately pulled my thighs apart so he could rest between them.
I'm knocked out of my daze, as I feel Quinn start to press kisses on the inside of my thighs, my breath is beginning to quicken again. “Look at me baby” he says, as he lifts his head to reach my eyes.
I crane my neck to meet his gaze. Getting a good look at him, pupils blown with lust, his lips swollen and red, hair a mess, seeing him in this state turns me on even more.
“Please Quinn,” I yelled out to him, shifting my body closer to his face. I need something, anything. ‘So impatient” Quinn chuckles, as he leans in closer to my pussy, so close I can feel his breath fan on my folds, causing me to slowly moan. “Keep your eyes on mine or I will stop. Got it?” he roughly says to me, nodding my head yes quickly. “Words baby” he says, “yes, yes quinn” i say urgently.
Before I know it his face is diving into my cunt, his tongue instantly finding my clit, making arch my back into him. “Fuck” i say in a strangled moan, as my hands find their way to quinns hair, pushing his face deeper in my cunt.
His tongue is lapping me up like a grown man starving, his hands are pushing my legs so hard and so far apart it almost hurts, but I can't find it inside me to care. His pace began to quicken, pushing his tongue in and out of my cunt. “Who got you this wet baby?” he mumbles into my heart. “You! Fuck right there baby” i moan out, as quinn slowly pushes 2 fingers in.
The pressure is beginning to build in my stomach, between quinn fingering me and lapping and sucking on my clit is enough to push me over the edge. “Harder, faster, fuck quinn.'' I managed to push out, his actions now becoming faster and more aggressive than before.
Before I realize, my peak is coming. My hips grinding themselves on quinns face, desperate to cum. “That's it baby, there you go.” he says, as i begin to push myself on his fingers deep inside of me. Moving his thumb to now, rub my clit at a fast rate. “fuck quinn im coming” i push my head flat against the pillow as my body archs into him. “Fuck, don't stop. Quinn please don't stop, please please” i began to blubber out as i began to cum all over his fingers. Continuing to grind myself against him, taking anything that he’ll give me.
Quinns hands keep my thighs from closing shut and he removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue. Riding me through the last of my orgasm. My moans and pants are filling the room, my breath leaving my lungs as I finally come down from my orgasm.
Quinn slowly pulled his face away from my heat. “That was the hottest thing, ive never seen, fuck” he says before making his way on top of me, his lips finding mine.
Wrapping my arms around his neck pulling his chest to mine. Our bodies rocking together, “quinn” i say breathless, as his tongue is attacking my neck, moving his mouth lower down my body. Grasping my left nipple in his mouth, gently biting it, then releasing it into his mouth, wrapping his hot tongue around it. The action causes me to moan loudly, pushing my already close body even closer, if that's even possible.
As good as his assault on my boobs feels, I need him inside of me now. “Quinn” I say firmer this time. Pulling his face to mine, “ i need you to fuck me now, please now” i say panting in his face.
That seems to flip a switch inside of quinn, he's quickly lining up his cock, with my entrance, slowly pushing himself into me. Quinn goes as he fully enters me, our eyes locking for a quick moment before I lift my head to bring myself to his lips. This kiss is different from the others, love and passion filled, a kiss that isn't rushed. “Can I move baby?” quinn asks from above me, “yes please fuck me” i pant back into his mouth, bringing our lips back together again.
Quinns hips quickly snapping against mine, pulling out fullying before pushing himself back into me. The quick motion caused the both of us to moan loudly, “harder” I moan out to him. “You want me to fuck you harder baby?” Quinn says back to me. To answer his question I push my hips up to meet his thrusts, quinn moves one of his hands from my waist to my right leg, and pushes it above his shoulder. the new angle, hitting a depth i didn't know was even possible. Fucking me at a pace so good, that i didnt want him to stop.
The sound of groans, moans and our skin meeting and slapping together fills our room, our bodies slick with sweat. My eyes flutter open meeting quinns eyes, as he fucks me so deep and so good, my mouth is hung open but no words are coming out.
Grabbing my jaws he leans down and spits into my mouth “swallow” he orders, his eyes still locked with mine. I do as he says, swallowing every last bit.
“Fuck you’re so hot” quinn moans at me, as he continues to fuck me. “More more '' I moan loudly at him, Quinn then pushes both of my legs on his shoulders. Fucking me so deep i can feel him in my stomach.
“Im gonna cum, baby” Quinn breathes in my ear, his face dropping to my neck as he picks up his pace. I feel the familiar burn build up in my stomach again. “Don't stop, im almost there please dont stop” i wine at him urging him to go even faster.
Grabbing our headboard, using more strength to push himself harder into me. One singular snap of his hips causes me to cum. “Quinn quinn, im coming fuck fuck fuck” i moan loudly. “come for me baby fuck” quinn says as he continues to fuck me though my orgasm.
“Im cumming” he sputters out, his lips finding mine. Our bodies move together as we’re coming down from our highs.
My legs slowly come down from his shoulders, Quinn slowly pulling out of me, wincing as he does. Collapsing beside me, our chests falling and rising together, pants fill the room still. I turn my body to his hand tracing his chest and neck. Pushing his hair that's fallen in his face back. Quinns arms circled around my waist pulling me closer to him.
“So much for the bet huh?” he says while laughing, pulling me in for another kiss.
#nhl fanfiction#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#nhl fic#quinn hughes smut#vancover canucks#hockey smut
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𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘭 ’𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 (𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘳)
“𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶” - 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘩
story inspirtation came from this poll
pairing: c.sc x reader
word count: estimated ~10k+ (this teaser: 983 words)
genre: friends to friends with benefits to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut (mdni)
summary: You and Seungcheol have been friends ever since you were kids. Growing up as neighbours, experiencing all the horrific adolescent moments in high school, and now going to the same University together. Even though you’ve denied it many times to your friends, part of you has always had feelings for him, not that you would ever say it out loud. He is the one person you can trust with anything and everything. So what happens when he propositions the idea of becoming friends with benefits? (the plot maybe change a little while i’m continuing to write but the overall theme will stay the same <;3)
tags: bestfriend!seungcheol, nonidol!au, university!au, female!reader, mutual pining, slow burn so painful you'll feel it in your toes, they are one year apart, SLIGHT like extremely miniscule wonwoo x reader (for the angst mwahahaha), seungcheol is a jealous jealous man, they're both idiots, jeonghan is a menace as always, seungcheol has a lot of pride, so does the reader, (i'll add more once its finished lol)
warnings/smut: this will be added on in the full post.
taglist: open! send an ask, dm, or comment to be tagged for when i post the full fic.
notes: long time no post everyone.... a LOT of people voted for an s.coups story on my poll so i'm here to deliver mwahahahaha...ALSO im so proud of the banner i made like udek i love how it looks hehhehe, i spent a good hour or so on it T-T ! i really have an urge to write a longer story, so idk when i'll be finished because it may take me a while to finish so sorry in advance. I just started writing and I was playing Mikee's Letters by Just Hush during it and so i thought id incorperate the song into the story, but barely lol (its a tagalog song so sorry if the translation is a lil rough my tagalog is not the most accurate). this story is SOOOOOO self indulgnet that it should be criminal lol BUT im really excited to write this and im really excited to share it with everyone,,, but first i actually got to finish it hehe. talk to u soon, mwah <3!
As long as you could remember you and Seungcheol have been attached to the hip. Even though he was a year older than you, you couldn’t remember the last time you spent a day without him. You’ve been in each others lives ever since then, starting all the way from the young, bright age of 5, when you and your family moved into the small, humble house across his. Although your parents weren’t very well off, Cheol was. It was an odd thing that you two were neighbours because his house was much more grand, and nicer kept than yours. This didn’t really bother you growing up though, he always made you feel like an equal.
Seungcheol has been with you through it all, the petty fights in middle school to the pains of adolescence in high school. He’s seen you at your worst, like the time you tripped and fell trying to impress a cute guy at school, which resulted in a nose bleed. You were so embarrassed but at the end of the day Cheol was there to help you clean your bloody nose and pick you back up. A true night and shining armor, which was practically his brand. He was the one to patch up your heart, breakup after breakup. Always your shoulder to lean on when you’re feeling down, and especially when you’re happy.
A man and bestfriend like Choi Seungcheol didn’t come around very often, and you took notice of that since you were young. You cherish every moment you have and will have with him. He is a true gentleman with a heart of gold. He’s handsome, smart, rich and caring. Every single box on your list is ticked off when it comes to him. Yet, you know that no matter how hard you love him, you will only ever be his bestfriend. The girl he sees as practically his younger sister. The bittersweet feeling of being so close to him tugs your heart till its torn. It took you a long time to accept that all you’ll ever be is his bestfriend, and even now, you’re still trying to accept this fact.
...
Seungcheol has always seen himself as your best friend. The man that will be there for you when you have no one else to turn to. He has never seen you as more than his best friend, his y/n. He is a man who never second-guesses himself, always keeping a strong-willed sense of mind. Every time one of his friends asked him if he had feelings for you, he would simply answer no; and that you were like a younger sister to him.
That first year was lonely for him, he didn’t really know anyone and all his classes kept him away from socializing. The only thing that seemed to have stayed constant was you. You face-timed him at least once a week before he went to bed, never forgetting to remind him how much you missed him, and how much you cared for him. In the simplest words, you were his rock for that first year.
Seungcheol was never warned about how lonely and jarring your first year could be. The change in place, people, and most importantly the change in the fact that you weren’t there experiencing it beside him. He was never one to believe clichè sayings, but he finally understood what the saying “distance makes the heart grow fonder” really felt like. He had gotten so overwhelmed from the loneliness he even began to write you letters, ones he would never actually send out, as cheesy as it sounds. But knowing that he was addressing them to you brought him some type of solace in that first year.
A year later you came to study at the same university, and he was elated, to say the least. Finally, he had thought to himself. The one person he hadn’t been able to see, smell, or touch for a year was finally going to be in his proximity.
Unlike Cheol, you were only able to go to this school through bursaries and scholarships, your parents simply just couldn’t afford to send you to school in a different city otherwise. It reminded you how lucky Seungcheol was to receive support from his parents, getting and going to school was nothing he had to ever think twice about. You knew you could’ve stayed with your family, and gone to school closer to your house, but with Cheol away, it just wasn’t the same. Nothing had felt the same since he left. But this didn’t matter to you the moment you felt his arms wrap around you again.
You stood there in the airport all alone, eyes searching for a head of freshly dyed blond hair. The moment you heard his voice call your name, you knew you were finally home.
“Y/n!” An excited, deep voice calls out for you.
You whip your head around to see him. The man you hadn’t seen in so long, the man you were so desperately in love with. Your best friend.
“Cheol!” A squeal escapes your lips, you run to him. He pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his large hands around your smaller frame. Swinging you around like crazy, a laugh bubbles up from your throat.
“I’ve missed you so much y/n.” Cheol exasperates as he hugs you tighter, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.
“I’ve missed you too Cheol…” You whisper into his chest, breathing in his expensive cologne, not caring that you are in public; staying there to embrace him for a weirdly long period of time. “Never leave for that long again.”
#seventeen x reader#seventeen smut#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#scoups smut#scoups#seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seungcheol fluff#scoups fluff#scoups angst#seungcheol angst#seventeen angst#wonustars ✧ ﾟ. {works}#wonustars ✧.* {fics: seungcheol’s letters}
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Hellfire (Priest! Miguel O’Hara x Demon! Fem! Reader) one shot
Oooooo Im very happy about this one. Based of the song from the hunchback of Norte dame. No idea how this got to the word count it did lol. Not proofread.
Religious imagery(Catholicism specifically), questioning of faith, the lyrics of the song does contain a certain that can be seen as distasteful/offensive, reader is a demonic entity (almost like a succubus), nsfw content but no smut (mdni), semi-dub con(???) (reader trying to convince Miguel to give into her, but it’s mostly teasing touches and stuff.), cursing, mentions of hell.
(Y/N)- Your name.
Word count: 2.6K
Masterlist
—
Confiteor deo
Omnipotenti
Beatae Mariae
Semper virgini
Beato Michaeli archangelo
Sanctis apostolis
Omnibus sanctis
—
With a heavy sigh, Miguel placed his rosary and his bible on his office’s desk. Another Sunday completed, all the services for the day were finished, along with clean up and the classes for the kiddos. It was now getting dark, the sun setting, leaving a beautiful painting of pink and orange hues in the sky. The church bells struck once, twice, three times, then one last time, signifying another hour having passed as Miguel put on his winter coat and gloves, because surely,it was still snowing outside , his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the empty ancient church. He stops at the start of the wooden pews, turning towards the front and placing his right hand to the top of his forehead.
“En el nombre del Padre.” (In the name of the father.)
His hand travels to the middle of his chest.
“Y del Hijo.” (The son)
To his left shoulder.
“Y del Espíritu…” (And the holy…)
To his right shoulder.
“Santo, Amén.” (spirit, Amen.)
Lastly, he brings his hand up and places a gentle kiss on the side of it, his eyes never leaving the stain glass portrait of the Virgin Mary that hung in the middle of the top of the stage as he said the prayer, before turning back around and exiting the church, a familiar sense of dread filling his chest as he closes the door behind him.
—
Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man
Of my virtue I am justly proud (et tibit pater)
—
Miguel couldn’t sleep, he wouldn’t sleep.
He rubs his large hands over his face, his eye bags have been getting darker lately, he’s been lacking energy, and thanks to the little sleep he’s been receiving, it was only making it harder for him to fight off the temptation of sin. But it’s not like he could have a full night's rest, not when… Miguel shook his head in an attempt to rid the vile and unholy thoughts. Maybe tonight will be different, that was the lie he told himself every night.
Miguel placed his toothbrush back into the little blue cup onto his bathroom sink, bringing up a small, white hand towel to clean off the excess water that was spread on his lips, and began to run down his chin and onto his neck.
what a delicious sight.
Once he finally finished cleaning up the water on his chin, he dragged the towel over his sink counter to clean the water he had spilled while brushing, before placing it back on its little hook and exited the bathroom, turning off the lights and closing the door.
Maybe he wouldn’t have the same problem every night if he didn’t look so tempting, only sleeping in gray sweatpants.
He does a once-over of his house, making sure all the doors and windows are locked. Before finishing stopping in front of his bedroom, freezing right before the threshold of the door. His hands go up and join together in a praying signal, whispering for protection under his breath.
Like that’s ever helped him.
—
Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than
The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd (quia peccavi nimis)
—
The second he took the step into his bedroom, he felt a shiver run down his back. It felt like the temperature dropped once he walked in, he swore if he focused hard enough, he’d be able to see his own breath.
Despite his fight or flight senses screaming at him to run, he continued to venture further into his master bedroom. A simple wooden cross with golden accents hung over his bed, his eyes fixated on it. Miguel O’Hara, was a man of faith, he had to be in order to be the priest of his community’s church. He’s poured his whole life, soul and being into his religion, having been raised catholic since he was a mere infant. So why was it that every night, when he’d stared at the cross over his bed, the one that was supposed to protect him, did he start to doubt?
—
Then tell me, Maria, why I see her dancing there?
Why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul? (cogitatione)
—
It always started the same.
He’d sleep somewhat soundly for a good amount of the night, once he was able to get his mind to stop racing.
He looked so adorable asleep, despite his colossal size.
He moves a lot, so his bed always becomes a bit disheveled, a pillow on the floor or a blanket halfway off the bed. Some light snores and some drool dripping out the corner of his mouth.
How could such a holy man be so delicious looking?
It was 3 am. Witching hour.
“Wake…”
“… up~”
“Wake up.”
—
I feel her, I see her
The sun caught in her raven hair
Is blazing in me out of all control (verb o et opere)
—
Miguel’s eyes shot open. Chest heaving as he takes rapid short breaths, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat. His eyes darting around his dark room in an attempt to find the source of the voice, only lifting his head as he did so.
He knew you were here.
Finally he finds a pair of dark glowing eyes at the foot of his bed, how did he miss it in the first place? He chalks it up to panic. A silence fell over the two of you for what felt like hours, an all too familiar sense of panic (and to Miguel’s horror, slight arousal) filled his senses. Finally, you break the silence.
“My my my… if it isn’t my favorite priest…” You said in a sing-songy tone, as you slowly climbed onto the bed, making Miguel’s stomach twist. He should push you off of him, he should banish you to the depths of hell, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it for some reason. He was paralyzed. You stopped crawling once you were fully over him. “Oh father… help me for I have sinned.” You said in a mocking tone, a shiver ran down his back once again as he let out a shaky breath, feeling your sharp fingernails trail down his chest, and stopping at the waistband of his sweats tugging at the band slightly.
—
Like fire
Hellfire
—
Finally coming to his senses, (much to your dismay) he finally pushes off you. Landing on the floor to the left side of the bed, with a small “oof” as he quickly scrambled to the over side of the bed in or to create distant between the two of you.
“Get out.” Miguel growled as he readjusted his sweats. You didn’t respond, rather, you brought your hand up to move some hair that had gotten into your face as you slowly walked around the bed and towards him. You looked how you always did when you would visit him. You could even be mistaken for a human if it weren’t for the horns, the wings and the long nails.
“Don’t act like that now, father. Aren’t you tired of this little game we play every night?” You asked with a head tilt, continuing to walk towards him as you spoke, your sentence coming out slow and drawn out, your tone nothing but pure seduction. Miguel closes his eyes as if they would deafen your words. Every step you take forward, he takes one back, before the back of his knees eventually hits the back of his bedside table, his hands going behind him to help stabilize himself to keep from falling back on top of it. “You pretend you don’t enjoy this-“
“I don’t.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Then why, pray tell, are you hard, father?” You smirked as you spoke., eyes drifting down to a very visible bulge in his sweats. “Have I finally done my job? Will this be the night you fall victim to temptation?” You said in a surprised, yet smug tone. Miguel felt his face burn up, a hand going behind him in search of something. “I will say, you do look quite handsome on your knees. I can give you something so much better to worship than God. You just have to give in to me, give in, father. Give in. Give in. Give in. Give. In.” You chant those two words like a mantra, your eyes begin to glow as you got closer, you were at arms length now. Your steps and words came to a sudden halt.
—
This fire in my skin
This burning desire
Is turning me to sin
—
Your eyes narrowed at the rosary Miguel was holding up in front of you in an attempt to protect himself from you.
“That’s not a very nice way to treat your guest.”
“You’re lucky I don’t banish you back to hell where you belong.” His words make you scoff and roll your eyes.
“Oh please, you would never. You and I both know that. Now put that thing down so I can corrupt my favorite human.” You attempted to move closer, only for him to double down. “Tell me Miguel, if you were really gonna ‘banish’ me or whatever. Why haven’t you done so already? I’ve been coming to you for a few weeks now? If you really wanted to get rid of me for good, you would have done so already. You’re a priest for god’s sake-“
“Don’t you dare use the Lord’s name in vain.”
“I’m a demon.” You deadpanned.
He hated to admit that you were right, he hated that he knew that you were. He’s surprised that you haven’t gotten bored in this game of cat and mouse yet. Every night you would appear in his room at the sametime, attempting to seduce him while he spat empty threats at you. Why hasn't he just gotten rid of you yet? It’s not like he doesn’t have the power to do so or the equipment. Maybe he was going insane, maybe he was losing it, or maybe…
No. He couldn’t.
He can’t just throw away his whole life’s work just because a demon who happened to be conventional pretty keeps pestering every night. He couldn’t allow himself to give in to temptation. He wouldn’t allow himself to be corrupted by your glowing eyes that seem like they could stare into his soul forever, or your sultry voice that made his heart skip a beat, your plump lips that would pull up into a smirk whenever you’d question him, how the say you would tilt your head made him weak in the knees- oh how he wish he could worship your body on his knees like you were a goddess- no, fuck.
“Get out.” Miguel repeated, his voice becoming tighter, his knuckles turning white. He takes a step forward, you take one back and frown. “Get. Out!”
He blinks, you're gone.
—
It's not my fault (mea culpa)
I'm not to blame (mea culpa)
It is the gypsy girl the witch who sent this flame (mea maxima culpa)
—
It’s been a few weeks since your last visit, much to Miguel’s surprise. He should be relieved, he should be thanking the heavens up above that he was finally able to extract such a vile presence from his life, he doesn’t feel a pit in his stomach when he enters his own home anymore, it doesn’t feel like the temperature in his room is 20 degrees colder than it is in the hallway leading into it anymore, he doesn’t feel like like there’s this constant ghost lingering over his shoulder anymore. So why wasn't he at peace?
Your lack of presence was almost just as unbearable. In a twisted way, he became accustomed to it. Maybe this was another of your tricks, attempting to perform classic conditioning on him. Get him used to you by the constant attention from your nightly visits, butter him up despite his protest, making his body burn up with the way your touch lingers on his body too long, the way his eyes always drop to your mouth when you lick your lips, the way the word father would leave your lips in a way that made it sound like you’ve just sinned and he was the only one who could help you reach eternal salvation again, just to pull it all away from him within a snap of a finger to see how long it would take for him to crumble. You were Pavlov, and Miguel was just the dog whose mouth started to water at the sound of a bell.
The church was empty besides himself, he was kneeling before the crucifix that was placed next to the portrait of the Virgin Mary, eyes closed, his hands folded together in a fist as he he dips his head down, nose touching his hands as he silently prayed for forgiveness for allowing you to slowly chip away at his self-restraint. He heard the large front door open, he didn’t open his eyes but his head came up as he spoke.
“I’m sorry my child, the church is closed.”
“I needed to see you though, father.”
Miguel’s eyes snapped open. He knew that voice all too well.
—
It's not my fault (mea culpa)
If in God's plan (mea culpa)
He made the Devil so much stronger than a man (mea maxima culpa)
—
“How-“ Miguel was stunned, not only have you reappeared after weeks, you were also standing inside of a church, his church. You looked so beautiful, you looked like an actual human, your nails, although still sharp and point looked more like acrylics rather then claws, you weren’t dawning your bat-like wings and your horns weren’t poking out of your hair, if Miguel had passed by you on the street, he’d be none the wiser. It only made him crack more, imagining what it would be like in a different world where there wasn’t shame and taboo keeping him away from you. Where you aren’t a soulless, heartless creature. “How’s you get in here?” He finally got the question out, his eyes narrowed into slits as he took a step back, almost fumbling his footing and tripping.
“We can enter churches if we find a weak point.” You stated as you made your way towards him, Miguel’s eyes dropped instantly to your hips, how they swayed with each step you take, his mouth went dry and he instinctively licked his lips. “I wonder what that weak point is?” You teased as you stopped in front of him, your lips pulling up into a smirk.
—
Protect me, Maria
Don't let this siren cast her spell
Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone
Destroy Esmeralda
And let her taste the fires of hell
Or else let her be mine and mine alone
—
He don’t know how it happened, one minute he was standing face to face in front of you, then the next, you both were in his office in the back of the church, you were sitting on top of his desk as he kneeled in front of you, his rough hands wondering and running around your legs, and he planted soft light kisses all over them. In between each one, he’d whispered a small pile of forgiveness from God, but he couldn’t stop himself anymore.
—
Hellfire
Darkfire
Now gypsy, it's your turn
Choose me or your pyre
Be mine or you will burn
—
“You never told me your name…” Miguel mumbled into your skin, his face buried against your inner thigh as he looked up at you.
“You wouldn’t be able to pronounce my actual name. Just… call me (Y/N).” You cooed as you ran a hand through his hair, before bringing it down to his cheek. Miguel leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. He was completely and utterly yours now.
“(Y/N)…” He whispered the name like a prayer.
—
Kyrie eleison
God have mercy on her
Kyrie eleison
God have mercy on me
Kyrie eleison
But she will be mine
Or she will burn
#Spotify#miguel o hara fanfic#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099 x reader#astv miguel#astv spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara au#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099 fanfic#spiderman 2099
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hcs for percy x child of athena!reader that’s like, badass and super good at fighting/using knives/swords/other weaponry/ in a fight but is like super emotionally closed off?
-bitey anon (if that’s not taken)
pairing: percy jackson x artemis!reader
summary: headcanons for percy with a reader who's a child of artemis.
warning(s): slight mentions of blood, cursing, weapons (even if that even counts lol!), established relationship and sickeningly sweet fluff.
a/n: OMG HELLO BITEY ANON!! its not taken yet!! this is such a cool request i hope you enjoy what i did, sorry it took a moment!! and im so so sorry to anyone who's sent in a request!! i swear i'm trying to finish them all :( life is just..lifeing rn.
requests are currently closed!
okay so first of all i HAVE to talk about the beef percy and artemis must have.
like yo who is this guy? and why is he interested in her child? her only child too.
she's like that one person who's secretly praying on your downfall and really doesn't care if you two know it.
she most likely warmed up to the idea of you two dating over time because, to be honest - she likes percy.
would never say it to his face though, he has a big enough head.
BUT ON TO THE DATING!
hmm percy with a more closed off s/o is kind of hard to imagine.
hes so expressive and open i feel like he'd try his hardest to get his s/o to open up.
would NEVER push you to do anything though - he'd never wanna make you feel uncomfortable, after all.
"good morning my beautiful demi-god, how'd you sleep?"
"like a rock., those bed are so fucking hard"
"i may have a solution to your problem.."
"percy you've been caught like 6 times trying to sneak into my cabin.."
"7th times a charm."
bro he probably fell in love with you the first time he saw you fighting.
you two were probably on some random quest and you had gotten ambushed by a couple of monsters.
he wanted to the boyfriend-y thing and help fend off the monsters so he could impress you.
he was doing great for little till you joined in and started helping him fight as well.
literally could NOT keep his eyes off you, you were so cool!!
he was going to make some really cool and suave quip while you were fighting to see a smile or something when he was hit in the face by a particularly angry monster.
attack sent him flying back a bit - totally made him scuff his shoes.
was happy you were able to finish off the monster that hit him but was slightly embarrassed that he got hit.
though, he did enjoy you feeding him some nectar per his own request.
i think he'd be like obsessed with the way you fight.
i mean, how couldn't he? you look so cool when you're doing all that swinging and slicing..he's so proud of you.
may or may not have been victim of a slice to his cheek from getting to close to you while you were training but seriously doesn't count it as you being reckless - he needed to be more careful.
"holy shit — are you okay?"
"uhh..probably..? why is there something on my face?"
"i think i..nipped you."
"nipped me?"
"you're..bleeding."
"oh."
percy's a great guy but i feel like he'd also worry like 10x more about you because of you being slightly closed off.
checks in with you like every few minutes even if you've already told him you're okay.
you'd be woken up at like 12 pm from his texts alone.
always calling to make sure you're okay while he's away from camp half-blood on a quest or just hanging out somewhere on his college campus.
you do love that he's so caring!
you just..hate getting that stupid notification sound every few hours.
he'd be crushed if you ever told him that though so, you just deal with it.
honestly i don't think he'd care too much if you were closed off - it's all the same to him!
your aversion to speaking up while not stop him from going out of his way to surprise you with different gifts or with random hugs.
may or may not sniff your clothes slightly when he does hug you.
don't tell him you notice it, he'd die.
"what's that?"
"a plushie, for you."
"..why?"
"didn't you say this was your favorite animal?"
"oh..perce.. "
though, i feel like the only time you being closed off would be a problem would be when you two have an argument.
he's very open to hearing your side but hates when you don't let him know you have a problem
how else is he supposed to find a way to help?
overall though, you two would get along just great!!!
invites you out with him after you're done training whenever he can just so he can spend time with you.
doesn't even matter where you two are going.
yeah no, he thinks you're so awesome.
#percy jackson#percy jackson fluff#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#x reader#x reader fluff#pjo fluff#artemis!reader
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~Hidden Love~
YandareHuman Al x Reader
Warnings: none i think
⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧
"Y/n i want you to meet Alastor hes going to be the newest Radio host aka hes going to take up Daniel's part so that means you'll be Al's new Assistant okay"
"Okay!"
"Well as you heard i'm alastor pleasure meeting you!" Said Al leaning down to kiss your hand
"Well thanks i'm Y/n"
After that you felt something different never knowing what it was..................... Al was always nice to you unlike to anybody else. But why?
⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧
The party was a success Daniel was happier than ever You got to dance with Al you (in your opinion is kinda cute). Afterwards you and everybody else was heading home. You were a good 20 minutes away from ur house. A very long way home ugh....
"You know a pretty lady shouldn't be walking home this late all alone right?you never know what can happen" Says Al walking up to you
"Oh hi Alastor yea i know but I'll be fine I've done this many time and i'm alive" you say being slightly sarcastic at the end
"Oh dear you never know what could happen and so I shall insist taking you home"
"Oh you don't need to i ca- "I insist dear imagen the guilt i would feel if something happens to you when you leave"
"Well fine if you insist"
"Wonderful!"
You both went on your way home everything was going well Al wanted to "chat" so he knows more about his new assistant's schedule and so on but they both knew he just wanted to know more about Her.
Until it started to rain you both quickly ran Alastor handing you his jacket so you don't get as wet as him.(wow such a gentlemen)
You both ran quicker once you told him you saw ur house come up.
Once at ur door step you let Al in mostly cuz hes soaking wet.
"Get in" "No need dear im going to head home thankfully its not far"
After Al says that a strong lightning strikes.
"Oh Well now you are getting in"
You quickly indicate where the shower in a guest room would be and say ur going to hand him some clothes.
After some digging in ur closet deep down you found a flimsy but formal shirt which looks slightly to big but who cares you find everything else and go into the guest room and knock on the bathroom door say the clothes are in the bed.
After a good 10 minutes Al comes out looking funny since the shirt fits him big
"why do you have a shirt this big?"
"Well it was my fathers"
"Oh well its an honor to wear the shirt of a proud father"
"haha yea thanks"
"Well i made some soup so you don't get sick come so you can eat it"
"No need dear I'll be fine"
you looked at him with a stern face and tell him to come and eat before it gets cold.
He obliged and sat down with you to eat and not get sick (ha lol)
When he took a bite he felt like he could marry you right then and there it tasted very similar to his mothers so good and full with love.
After the both of you finished you talked some more while you quickly washed the dishes.
"Well i should head out dear"
"No need its still raining and i have a spare bedroom u can use"
"Are you sure dear?"
"Yes i'm sure why else would i offer it?"
Then you both went to bed.
⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧
After that your bond was very nice both of you had feeling for each other but didn't say for some reasons.
First Al didn't want you to find out he was a f'n serial killer.(what would you think of him?)
And you were just scared of what people would say to you like why date a radio host you can definitely score a hot rich man with all ur beauty.
But either way both of you were satisfied with being just friend/coworkers for now.
⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧
Until you had suspicions he was the killer. you didn't have much proof but you confronted him
"hey Al? can i talk to you bout something"
"Sure thing! what is it?"
"Um well just wanted to know are you the killer that has been going around killing the innocent?
"Oh no dear no i'm not why would i be"
"oh well there was some staff saying it might be you"
"oh well who was it?"
"well a lot of the male staff was saying it like mike don and Sam"
"Well you don't need to worry ur little head about it I think i can handle it with them"
"Oh okay, then i'm going to head out for the day bye Al"
"Bye Y/n see you"
⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧⬧"
Hello finally finished part 1. Part 2 will hope fully come out Wednesday.
Hope ya'll liked it.
~Hidden Love~
Tag-list
@rl800
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kit's fics year in review (2023)
it turns out i wrote a LOT this year (last year now, i guess) according to my ao3 stats, and i saw one of those recap games for another fandom floating around my dash so im absolutely gonna pilfer some of those questions for my own little review + add a few!!
how many fics did you write in 2023?
it was definitely the year of the silly short fic for me -- i published a total of 6 new oneshots on ao3 along with 5 fics only on my kofi! i also added at least one chapter to 9 other fics that were already posted. and i started and completed 1 long stand alone fic this year (if you love me let it remain unnamed, clocking in at 37k)
what are you most proud of fic-writing wise in 2023?
i finished foolproof, foolhardy! it took more than a year to write, from first published to last updated, but i think the lion's share of the work happened during 2023; it's sort of rare for a fic of mine to get that long (72k), so it was fun to write through all the developments. truly a cracky premise that grew legs and ran away from me, but i'm really proud of how it turned out. the last 4 chapters contain some of my best writing in my opinion and the whole story is a love letter to padawan obi-wan, who will always be my beloved lol
what is the fic you had the most fun writing?
this is a tough question because i'm torn between two fics; sun, sun, sun here it comes is probably my favorite oneshot that i've ever written. it sorta incorporates everything that makes a silly little au in my mind, from miscommunication to banter to bonus babies. but then there's i pray the same, but my gods have changed, aka the democratic fic- now that's such a fun fic to write, and i'm going to get more into it this year again. it's the one where tumblr votes on what should happen next, which i absolutely enjoy - especially when people send me propaganda about which option should win....thought the amount of ties that have happened is mind-boggling lol
what is a fic you didn't expect to write?
hahaha well this is easily 'a more perfect union' which has been sooo fun to write so far but also definitely has had a very short gestation period from nascent tumblr au post to 25k on ao3 lol and still one more chapter to go!!!
what fic surprised you when you were writing it?
oh hands down this is 'hand me down dreams got me high in the rafters', aka the pool boy au from tumblr. the adaptation of it from tumblr au to a fic on ao3 has a crazy tone shift where the obi-wan in that fic is much, much darker than the one in the tumblr au - i really ended up leaning into the unequal power dynamics of a boss/employee relationship and exploring how unhealthy it could be while keeping it consensual -- but only because anakin would allow obi-wan to do whatever he wanted to him
what's a fic you wanted to write but didn't?
my poor neglected hunger games au!! i really want to get the first chapter of that posted because i am so excited about this fic and writing it as a new big, long project -- i'm excited about the dark anakin, the differently dark obi-wan, the hunger games set in the gffa, etc etc etc
what is something you learned this year that you'll take into 2024?
set is the only acceptable name for anakin to use undercover <3 we will be taking the set cinematic universe into 2024 <3
what's a project you're excited to carry into the new year?
um all of my wips lol but especially time & tide and the couples counseling au - i have about half of the next chapter of t&t written, and before i got sidetracked by a more perfect union, i was on track to get that posted by christmas....obviously that did not happen lol but i'm expecting to get back to working on a few more chapter updates at the beginning of this year!
#kit to kit#obikin#i would tag people but i think im really late for this sort of review#and people probably did it a few days ago#but i would love to see any fic reviews other writers do if you use these questions!!!#pls tag me <3
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Hey love sorry to bother but I had an idea for a fic and I’m like DYING for someone to write it
So basically reader is Johnny’s gf and he takes her to meet the gang but they don’t really like her cause she’s a soc so they kick her out and tell Johnny that he should be w her ikr smth but THEN they find reader crying at the park when another soc comes hitting on her but she’s all like NO I HAVE A BF and then the gang realises she actually loves Johnny
SORRY I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY
it’s kinda specific so no worries if you don’t wanna do it ❤️
↳hit the road, jack!₊˚✧
➬ johnny cade x soc!reader
a/n; i swear im done with the shit posting lol back on the grind frlz. i didnt proofread this…lolz.
“i’m so nervous johnny, i-i can’t do it! what if they don’t like me?”
you said— half shouting, half asking.
johnny chuckled, obviously nervous.
he, himself, didn’t even know if they’d like you.
you were a soc, and the gang holds so many grudges against soc’s, johnny can’t even count em on his own two hands.
“they’ll love you, i swear.”
he said, grabbing your hands while giving you a reassuring smile.
you took a deep breath in and then a deep breath out as johnny knocked on the curtis door.
a big, tall, scary looking guy answered the door.
he looked you up and down, and you could just tell he didn’t like you.
but nonetheless, he welcomed you in.
he shook your hand, where he told you his name was darry.
lovely name, you thought as you walked in.
6 intimating dudes sat in the living room, staring at you as you walked in.
the tension was so thick you could cut it with the knife.
you thought you’d try to lift the mood by giving an awkward smile and a wave.
but that only seemed to thicken the tension.
“who’s this?”
“my uh—my girlfriend.”
johnny answered the dark haired boy, he appeared to be dallas winston—the grease everyone knew about.
“mh.”
he said back, turning his head to face the other direction.
johnny awkwardly chuckled and leaned into your ear.
he started pointing at each and every boy sitting there, telling you their names.
the smaller one was ponyboy—odd name, but who are you to judge?
sodapop—another weird name…are they all like this? you wondered.
two-bit, apparently it’s just a nickname.
steve and dallas.
you didn’t need to hear their names to know they don’t want you here.
steve got up and asked for johnny in the kitchen.
when your boyfriend left, you swear you could’ve heard a grain of sand drop.
darry, the nicest one out of them all to you so far, tried to ask you questions about yourself.
“so, what’s your name?”
“y/n. it’s uh—lovely to meet you!”
“likewise.”
and from then on, it was silent again.
you heard steve and johnny talking in the kitchen, it was hard to be quiet in a dead silent house.
“a soc, johnny? a goddamn soc?”
“yeah? so what?”
“have you forgotten what they did to you? or ANY of us?”
the gang smiled at the sentence—almost like they were proud of their friend for putting you down.
“no, of course i haven’t! but she wasn’t apart of that—she’s my girlfriend. not those soc’s that kicked the tar out of us!”
“well she might as well be. she looks the part—what if it’s a prank, johnny? ever thought of that?”
you heard steve ask johnny.
you wanted to cry, cry, cry.
your relationship was a joke to them and they hated you.
your tears started to get watery the more you thought about it.
“i uh, i gotta go. ‘m sorry—gotta go finish something. tell johnny i said bye.”
you announced, rushing out of the house.
the second you stepped out, the tears started to stream down your cheeks.
you started to run to the empty lot, you knew nobody goes there. it’d be safe, right?
well, that’s what you thought.
a bunch of greasers were already there and you didn’t want to humiliate yourself more, so you walked faster past the lot.
you sat in at a park bench near your house.
you always went there when you had nowhere else to go.
you couldn’t go home crying, your father would kill johnny. even if it wasn’t his fault.
“y/n? are you okay?”
you heard a voice ask.
you looked up and saw your friend who you haven’t spoken to in a long time.
“micheal? oh shi—i’m sorry.”
“no-no, it’s fine. what’s wrong?”
he asked, sitting beside you and placing a hand on your lower back for comfort.
“my boyfriend’s friends don’t like me, micheal! he said they’re like his family—so it ain’t never gonna work out!”
“well—i’m always here. i always thought you were a cute gal, ya know?”
your eyes went wide.
huh?
“what?”
you heard several footsteps but you pushed that detail aside to put your full attention on the situation at hand.
“i mean, if you were to end things..i AM right here. always liked you, ya know?”
“i still have a boyfriend, micheal. just because we hit a rough patch doesn’t mean we broke up.”
you spoke, your eyebrows furrowed.
what the hell was he on?
“are you INSANE, micheal?! ugh! and here i thought i could get some comfort from a FRIEND!”
you shouted, standing up and walking away.
you heard micheal kiss his teeth as you walked away.
you heard a pair of feet rush after you and you just prayed it wasn’t micheal.
“never thought i’d see you shout at someone like that, y/n!”
you heard johnny say from your left side as he caught up to you.
“johnny?! what’re you doin’? ain’t you supposed to be with your friends?”
“that’s actually why i’m HERE.”
he answered, exaggerating the last part while looking behind the two of you.
that only caused you to look behind yourself, to see your boyfriend’s friends—looking guilty.
everyone stopped walking. the gang exchanged awkward looks as everyone stood there.
“well?”
you heard your boyfriend ask the gang, with a little bit of sass in his voice.
the gang felt terrible.
they thought you were just playing a cruel prank on johnny—they just wanted to protect him.
when johnny heard that you left, he exploded on everyone.
he shouted about how if they treated you nicer, you wouldn’t have left. how if they would push their grudges away, you wouldn’t have thought johnny was a bitch.
they didn’t want to apologize, but they wanted johnny to be happy.
they still thought it was a prank until they seen you push an attractive soc away.
“we’re uh, we’re sorry y/n.”
“yeah, but you gotta understand—”
steve said, trying to defend himself until johnny interrupted him.
“she ain’t gon’ understand NOTHIN’! just tell her you’re sorry and that you’ll give ‘er a chance!”
they all sighed—with even more guilty looks.
they each apologized, one by one.
darry, the one who’s still the nicest to you, asked if you’d like to restart.
and you happily agreed!
when you got to the curtis house, you found out that you shared more in common with the greasers than you thought.
the more you and the gang got to talk, the more they liked you.
the more they began to like you, the wider johnny’s smile got.
may 29th, 2023. 7:39PM
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Tbh I haven’t requested anything on tumbler for a while so I hope this is right EL OH EL. anyway I love your writing 🫵 and I wanted to see if you could write how the txt members would act if they figured out their s/o was in college for teaching English as a second language in schools. Kinda like how it’s a requirement in certain schools to learn a second language? It’s what I’m working on and I think it’s so cool!! Thank you pookie 🫶
ahhhh thank u :(( im so glad there are people who thinks my writing isnt shit hehe (sorry i took so long to answer this ask!!! i wuv u)
you teach english? - ot5
genre! fluff
pairing! ot5 x gn!reader (seperate)
warnings! petnames (baby), my broken attempt at humor n ofc cutesy hehe
a/n! kinda shit quality TT im not so good at these type of things but i tried my best!!! :< (i dont actually know how it works so i made some bs up 💀)
choi yeonjun
i'd say he'd be so proud hehe
espc if you've mentioned to him that you wanted to teach before
he's pretty fluent in english himself so i see him being like "ooh, do you need help baby? i can help!" when you're reviewing the teaching materials the night before
starts spewing nonsense slangs to you tryna be all goofy LOL
"yo wsp, im the rizz king, skrrt!" these typa things :< (im high)
choi soobin
omg really?! typa vibes from him
yk that face he makes when he goes "wah..."
thats his face to you when you tell him you're teaching english
"teach me too..."
he'd try n learn together with you when you're preparing for the next class
gets free lessons out of you hehhehe (boyfie privileges :3)
choi beomgyu
"no way how'd you get picked..."
goofing around saying how would you get picked when ur english is shit (ofc he doesnt mean it <3)
jokes aside he'd be so proud like
"my baby teaches english!!!"
stuck to your side 25/8 when you're reading up materials
stays up with you till the demon hour when you stay up late to prepare lessons :>
kang taehyun
curious baby...
his english is just so cute n he'd be like "how do you read this word y/n... touchie!"
another one that wants you to teach him :>
while you read a set of materials he's reading another set LOL
i get the feeling he's the type to ask for tea on the students :3
gossiping with him is the best i believe...
helps you with making your sildes to the best extent he can :(
huening kai
another fluent english speaking hawaiian mf
let him rest his head on your shoulder from behind while you're working pls
helps you with some parts that you struggle with hehe
makes you simulate how you teach to him LOL
standing ovation for you when you finish 'teaching' him
he'd just be so sweet n supportive tbh (all the other members too!!)
taglist! @huckleberrykai (send an ask if u want to join n pls specify sfw or nsfw !!)
pls give feedback :( i want to know what areas i can improve in!!! this applies to all my other works too okie
#txt fluff#txt x reader#txt fic#yeonjun fluff#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun fics#soobin fluff#soobin x reader#soobin fics#beomgyu fluff#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu fics#taehyun fluff#taehyun x reader#taehyun fics#hueningkai fluff#hueningkai x reader#hueningkai fics#evelyn answers#evelyn's anons!#evelyn's works ⭐️
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third stream: desire for approval
[art cr: kuroume_1024 on twt]
bratty trans! streamer! scaramouche x dom fem-sex reader (they/them pronouns used for reader)
SUMMARY = how far would you go for attention?
WARNINGS = please view the sucker series masterlist for the full warnings! smut, penetration (reader giving), brat taming, asphyxiation, boobplay, use of the word “cunt”, use of pet name "angel" + "cumslut" + similar language, scara has nipple and navel piercings, womb tattoo, lingerie, self-sexualisation, codependence, unhealthy relationship, suicide ideation, self-harm, gender dysphoria, transphobia, attempted self-mutilation, implied domestic abuse
W/C = 2.6k
A/N = my word count is getting higher and higher be proud of me!! i was actually intending on writing a valentine's fic instead but uh ig you can take this as the late valentine's day fic instead lol. this may be my last x reader for a while for i would like to focus on more character x character. there are some zines im interested in participating and i want to have fics that i can use for my portfolio bc i don't think character x readers do good for zines lol oh yeah also little shoutout to the usernames featured in scara's stream!!
TAGS = @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun, @edenialucas, @huboi, @nejibot, @yumixxn, @teallapril
P-chan should be cute, pretty, handsome. Appearance-wise, they are perfect. Their gender doesn't matter but I want someone with a body like mine. I don't like nuisances so they have to be calm and collected. They have to be rational so they can comfort me and stop me from making impulsive decisions.
I want them to be independent but not too independent. They'll need me to command them like a pet. Maybe like a bunny? They could be that innocent-looking type but is secretly horny for me hehe. I'll have to work out the details later. But it's fine even if they are unsure about their personality. People like that tend to rely on the self-assured more. Maybe I could even dress up in the clothes I can't wear.
They won't be able to live without me.
—
“Ohh…it’s soh gud,” Scara moans, her tongue trailing up the melting popsicle before sucking on it. “Mmm…I might get addicted...”
The stream chat floods with comments; majority of it being provocative remarks. Just the reaction she intended. Although Scara hates to be sexualised by her fans, she knows that suggestive content rakes up the viewer count the fastest.
Almost halfway to a month, yet she hasn’t even reached half a million yet. She doesn’t have much time so even if that means that she has to whore herself like this…
“Mmm it’s sticking all over my fingers…” Scara licks the vanilla cream off her fingers, exaggerating her noises as she continues sucking on the popsicle. “It’s a good thing I took off my gloves. Or else it would have been allll over me.”
cauldron-of-anon: you know what else is creamy and drips all over
eunchaeluvr: I LOVE ICE CREAM
bubiblossom: god Im so happy I was born
cinshaberu: big…
leefrfr: that looks good
yourmomsucksme: YESYESYESYESYES
vermillionbun: THANK YOU SCARA
Scara giggles as she licks a strip up the popsicle. Hm, but it’s about time she ended the stream. All this sugary sweet stuff is cloying…ugh. She finishes the popsicle sensually and cleans her hands with a wet wipe.
“Thank you for the meal, it was delicious. I have to meet up with a friend so I’ll respond to the superchats another time.” Scara blows a kiss, mouse hovering over the ‘end stream’ button. “So long suckers!”
—
You’ve reached another milestone today. It’s funny how the other day, both you and Kunihiko were worried about his stagnancy. Today, he has surpassed 50k subscribers. Since this genre of streams garners the most viewers, maybe it’s okay to ask him to do more sexy streams. Probably not too much though. You don’t want Scara to come out as just another female streamer selling her body for clout. Conspiracy theories seem to do well…that goes for her ‘Scara Tries Things’ series. You’ll have to make her work harder these upcoming days, especially since she’s been slacking off lately. You’ve been trying not to push Kuni too hard but—
You blink as your phone is snatched away from you. “You’re still doing work?”
“Yes, that’s my job as your producer.” You stare at Kuni.
Your boyfriend scowls, grabbing your forearm. “Right now I need you to do your job as my partner.”
You don’t make any effort to resist as Kuni drags you like a ragdoll, grunting when he tosses you onto the bed. You sit there, waiting for Kuni to finish changing and give you your orders for the night. In the meantime, you occupy yourself by looking around.
Kuni didn’t have any requests for a themed room so you chose a classy one. The room was laden with rich reds and blacks, a jacuzzi and a drawer stocked with condoms, lube, all the essentials. In truth, it looked like any expensive hotel room, except that the fee for this one was much cheaper that any 5 star hotel. The good thing about love hotels is that they are soundproof — meaning Kuni is going to make you fuck him all night so he can savour the experience of moaning as loud as he wants without alerting the neighbours. Speaking of which, he wanted you to wear something, didn’t he? It should be the one on the table…
Unveiling the contents of the paper bag reveals an angel-themed lingerie set. The bodysuit is made out of fine white satin, decorated with ribbons at the shoulder straps, tulle around the hips, and etched with cloud patterns. Matching the set of white ribbon garters are sheer cloud-covered unattached sleeves that look like it extends past your elbows, looping around the middle finger to partially cover the top of your hands and leaving the rest bare. Without batting an eye, you shed your clothes off and dress yourself in the gifted outfit.
“Are you done?” Kuni calls from the bathroom after a few minutes.
“Yes.”
You sit on the bed, watching as your boyfriend exit the bathroom. A devilish grin rests on his carmine-lined lips as he sashays in black stilettos. He’s dressed head to toe in black leather — from the bodysuit, to the arm sleeves and stockings — but the bodysuit specifically emits a sort of polychromatic glow, shifting to a shimmering purple under the fluorescent light. The whole outfit hugs his body tight, squeezing his body in certain areas that pulls attention to the exposed skin spilling out his thighs and his chest… Your gaze darts back to his eyes, heart thumping upon realising that he is right in front of you.
Kuni chuckles. “What? You embarrassed?” He takes your hand, placing it on his chest. “Don’t be. I wore this just for you, you know?” Entranced, your eyes follow the movements of his other hand, watching as he unzips the zip on his waist, pushing down the waistband to display the pink, heart-shaped tattoo on his pelvis; resembling those typical womb tattoos you see in hentai. “You’re my sweet, obedient angel. And you’re going to reward this naughty succubus for working so hard for the both of us.” Kuni shoves you down on the bed, letting you sit in your state of shock as he purrs into your ear. "Get your toys. They are on the bedside table."
Sure enough, there's your bullet vibrator and buttplug; the ones Kuni asked you to bring today. You turn the motor to its maximum speed, goosebumps all over your skin as it makes contact with your sex. Next goes the plug, which you make sure to lubricate before inserting it into your puckered hole. When you lift your head, Kuni’s stinging violet gaze is locked upon you, a smirk on his carmine lips as he plays with his covered clit. You immediately turn your attention down, removing his underwear with hurried fingers and latching onto the swollen bub.
Soft thighs wrap around your head as your tongue switches its focus on his leaky cunt. Juices drip all over your tongue as you dive into him, eating him like a gourmet buffet. The whir of the vibrator reverberates off the insulated walls, rousing the fire in your groin that stupefies you into shaking your ass, savouring the sensation of your hole squeezing around the plug. Your eyes flit back up to your lover, his lust-filled eyes fixed onto you. His cunt oozes with ambrosial nectar, and you lap it up like a starved creature, goaded by his saccharine moans. A squeal reveals the arrival of his high, manicured nails digging into the sheets before vitality deserts him, leaving him laying limp on the bed.
The strained, rapid breaths becomes the only source of sound in the room once the motor is turned off. What fills the space of silence is rustling, followed by a click and then followed by a wet noise of viscous liquid. Kuni spreads his legs as your body hovers over him, a tired look on his face. He senses your hesitation.
“Don’t give that look,” he sneers. “I already gave you permission to ruin me. Unless…” he juts his bottom lip out, eyebrows lowered in a display of mockery. “you’re backing away now because you realised you can’t do it. No matter how cool, calm and controlled you think you are, I’m the one who holds dominion over you. Without my orders, you’re hopeless. You don’t know what to do because I’m the one who holds the power. Without me, you’re— ah!!”
His back arches into a crescent as the strap spears him without warning. Without giving him time to adjust, you’re grinding your hips against his, slamming the cock in and out while he cries in pleasure.
“Yes, yes, yes! Use me! Break me! Fix me! Oh god, please, please, please—!”
The force of your thrusts jostles Kuni against the bed, incandescent light shifting the polychromatic purples of his collar that just beckon you to wrap your hand around the thin neck. The added pressure around his neck makes him mewl in delight, hands guiding your free hand up his hips, past his navel piercing, and landing on his chest.
“Touch my boobs…” he rasps.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to order me around,” you say with a bite in your voice, tugging on one of his nipple piercings to make him squeak. “Do I have to punish you for your insolence?” Nonetheless, you turn your attention to his chest, peppering it with kisses and hickeys, suckling on his nipples, all to make the little brat writhe under you.
“(Name)...” he whines. “Punish me, ruin me, I don’t care! I don’t care about anything as long as you need me— aah…think of me and no one else! Want only me, love only me, love me, love me, love— haaah~!! I’m cumming, I’m—!”
His orgasm is signified by a shower of translucent strings streaming out of his soaked cunt, essence staining the floor and sheets in splatters. Kuni wheezes for air once you release the hold on his neck, arms wrapping around you as he basks in the momentary peace.
“Are you okay? Was I too rough?”
“I…I can do it again…” he says in between breaths, pushing himself up with his elbows. “Come on, I’m your…I’m your succubus, aren’t I? You…you have to punish me…”
You shrink back. “Kuni, I really think you need a break—”
A sudden weight thrown onto you interrupts your monologue. You blink, seeing your smirking boyfriend has switched positions with you; with you now underneath him while he’s on top of you.
“Oh I’m much stronger than you think. This body is curated for you…for all of your desires and wants. So, do your worse,” He cusps your cheek, lips covering over yours. “and dig in.”
Kuni kisses you with fervour, determined to infect you with his lust. An unwelcome sense of unease churns instead.
—
The sharp pain makes Kuni's body tingle with adrenaline, foggy eyes watching scarlet sanguine spill out the wound. His chest rises and falls as he pants, shaking fingers bringing the bloodied blade to slash an untouched portion on his wrist. He lets the high consume him, a penumbra that suppresses the emotional turmoil threatening to boil over the messed up pot that is him. Yet that high is all-consuming, and it begs for more. Cloudy indigos flit up to the mirror, a blurry figure reflecting back his ugly existence and that ugly chest that proves of his inferiority as a man.
"Cut your hair? But you’re the most beautiful with long hair."
"Where did you get those shorts? A pretty girl like you should wear dresses."
"Why does she dress like that?”
"Huh? But…you’re a girl."
Shut up, shut up.
”Kuniko, do you really think that anyone in this world will accept you as a boy?”
Shut up, shut up, shut up shut up shut up—
"Do you want to bleed out?"
Kuni ignores the way his raised hand trembles, grumbling as he glares at the person standing by the door. "Wasn't intending to. But if I die from blood loss, it wouldn’t be a bad thing either."
"I would be upset." You take a step forward, stopping when he inches the razor closer to his chest. "You know, if you wanted to get rid of them, we could always visit a professional. Surgery would be safer–"
“Do you think I give a shit about my safety?!” Kuni screams, beads of tears pouring like a waterfall. “I want to die! I don’t want to exist anymore, why don’t you get it?!”
“What makes you think that I don’t?”
“You…you…” Kuni swallows, his dry mouth making speech a burden.
“Maybe I don’t want to live either," You say. "but I still want you to survive.”
Kuni laughs dryly. “How selfish of you.”
“How ironic of you of all people to say that."
He doesn’t respond to that.
“I need you just as much as you need me. We can’t survive without each other.”
“I know.”
“I’m here because you want me to stop you. You want me to make you feel better.”
“...Yes.”
“How do you want me to do that?"
“...Hold me."
A trace of warmth swathes him; barely there but still enough. Kuni leans against the cold wall, quiet sobs echoing through the tiny room, caged in this claustrophobic space. The air is cold and suffocating, but he knows it will be okay because you’re here. It will be okay, because (Name) is here. (Name) is always with me. (Name) can never leave me. He closes his eyes, letting your gentle scent waft into his nose. He takes apart the scent: an amalgamation of lavender, sandalwood and sage, like the aromatherapy candles he lights. If he focuses, he can feel your warm, calming breaths brushing against his ear, reminding him that you’re there. You’ll always be there for him, and nothing will change that. It takes a while but slowly, his breaths even out, settling into a steady cadence.
You let go of him. His eyes are fixed on the floor.
“Are you okay?” You ask, caressing his dishevelled locks.
His gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “I can handle more than this.”
The sound of muffled shouting interrupts the quiet conversation. Kuni winces, looking at the direction of the disturbance. He recognises the voices but tunes out the repetitive string of words, palms cupping his ears while his back slides down the wall. The voices get louder and louder, accompanied by clashes of porcelain and the collide of wood against other household objects. He doesn’t register that he’s shaking until the familiar warmth surrounds him again.
“Let’s watch KAngel.”
—
[You received a text from Kuniku<3!]
Kuniku<3: (name)
Kuniku<3: ur asleep right?
Kuniku<3: couldnt sleep so i went out for a walk lol
Kuniku<3: i brought along the switchblade u bought me
Kuniku<3: in case a perv wants to catch a case hehe
[Kuniku<3 is typing…]
Kuniku<3: hey
Kuniku<3: you know i hate being alone right?
Kuniku<3: whenever you leave me for too long
Kuniku<3: im afraid that you realised you dont need me after all
Kuniku<3: i have to rely on you
Kuniku<3: but do you still need me?
Kuniku<3: or do i have to make you depend on me more?
[Kuniku<3 is typing…]
Kuniku<3: i want to disappear
Kuniku<3: i want to die
[Message Deleted]
Kuniku<3: hope my favourite cumslut got a good rest <3
Kuniku<3: i’ve been doing a good job right? sooo u will give me a break right?
Kuniku<3: i took the liberty of picking date ideas so what do u wanna do??
[Your answer]
#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader smut#genshin smut#genshin scaramouche x reader smut#scaramouche x reader smut#genshin scaramouche smut#scaramouche smut#genshin wanderer smut#wanderer x reader smut#genshin wanderer x reader smut#wanderer smut#trans scaramouche#afab reader#sucker au#sucker series#needy streamer overload au
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Sorry!! No episode today but I do have some extra content for you! The Wilbur/Quackity comic (?) has been in the works for a while so I want to show you some of the behind the scenes stuff. Sorry if its not too interesting ^_^’’
The comics are a bit long so I’m going to put them under the cut
Here’s the first draft of the scene, drawn sometime in early December. I was originally going to have it be a daydream Wilbur was having from behind the counter at the store. I decided against it because it felt like a weird transition from him being home to suddenly being back in the store. The dialogue (sorry if you cannot read my handwriting </3) also felt really stilted, plus I had a point I was going for that wasn’t really hit with what was being said here.
These two are essentially the storyboard for the text below. I originally intended for Quackity’s face to never be fully shown, but when I tried to draw it digitally it looked weird. Plus, I feel like there’s more of a connection if you can actually see his face. Im also a bit proud of my cquackity design sorry.
This iteration is the one where I decided that Wilbur would be in his car rather than at the story (its very messy, but the 4 tiny boxes on the side is the transition from him smoking in LN to being in his car and driving away).
plus some warmups and deciding how long I wanted Wilburs hair to be at the bottom
Here’s the original script, written on a plane with about 3 hours of sleep. I condensed it a bit, since I didn’t want to draw 15 whole pages and I didn’t want it to drag on. I also scrapped the last part in the notes, obviously. A gradual “waking up” would have worked too I guess, but I think the more jarring transition was more the feel I was going for (the kind of “snapping back” when you finish a memory/when something catches your attention).
I didn’t originally intend for the comic (can I even call it that?) to be a two parter, but once I decided Wilbur would be in his car, it would be too odd to just...go back to normal. I hope it was clear in the final product, but Q only shows up in the reflections of the window/mirror. Reflections are so great for so many things, and I’m definitely going to (continue) to use them lol!
I did get some people in the inbox saying how Quackity’s colors were similar to the sky from the first part, but they’re actually the same (just a bit more glow-y in this part) since I took the sky/background from the previous comic and overlayed it.
The whole idea of Q using snippets of speech from the previous comic was also really fun to do. I’ve always wanted to have a story where I can do that (I did it for more reasons that it just being cool, but that’s definitely one of them! haha).
Anyway that’s all! If you read this far, thank you for indulging me :D Apologies again for no episode; I burnt myself out a bit, and I’m working on another big episode and those tend to take up a lot of my time.
#utahlive#4th wall break#im also working on a character lineup sheet so I can have references for everyone. yeesh#oh also on a scale of 1 to 10 how funny would it be to incorporate polls into this blog#when they become available#also hi there tag readers#behind the scenes
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Can I request a hobie x male reader where hobie first notices the reader when he's performing on stage with his band? Hobie thinks his voice is sooo good and is soo hot so he talks to him after the show? Thanks!!
CAUGHT IN A DAZE !
— hobie brown x singer!masc!reader
— fluff, flirting and banter, singer reader, petnames (sweetheart, darling, pretty boy), hobie is shamelessly flirting, pubs and concerts, light cursing (shit like once), hobie calls the reader ‘smokin’, hobie’s bandmates are menaces
— hobie brown can tell when people have talent, so maybe that’s why he felt the need to find you after your show
— woohoo more male reader im so thankful. also so sorry for how long this took to come out life has been a little rough lately lol
Hobie and his bandmates decided to have a night of pub hopping to look for a new venue. Somewhere free, where they can entertain without worrying about the place being crashed with police and such. They just wanted to play some music.
The last pub they stopped to was a hole-in-the-wall, like most of their locations. A band was already playing tonight, and the energy was seemingly high amoung the patrons. Lights flashed between blue and purple, making the place seem cooler than it was.
“Gonna go find th’ owner!” One of Hobie’s mates shouted over the volume.
Hobie nodded as he was left with his drummer, giving him time to actually analyze the band playing. The music was catchy, similar to what Hobie plays and listens to. The drummer and bassist are smiling and laughing, enjoying themselves and the energy.
Then his eyes land on the singer.
Onstage, you were pouring your heart out. Even for such a dingy place. You were passionate in your singing, giving the crowd your bands best. Your voice was something that easily captivated Hobie. Each word you sung was tugging at his brain, almost as his heart, pulling him in every-time. The way you smiled and smirked, enjoying your little fame with your band, was something he admired.
As the song finished, Hobie gave his own applause. He was seemingly clapping the loudest, causing you to glance at him with a small bit of confusion. Then you smirk, throwing a wink his way with it.
That. Damn. Smirk.
You had Hobie captivated and didn’t even know it.
“Thank you everyone for comin’ out tonight!” You announce, prompting yet another round of applause. “We got one more song for the night. We’ll be back next week!”
With those words, you signal the start of the next song. The crowd seemingly goes crazy, already knowing what you were bound to play. It was a classic closer.
As the song continued, Hobie was seemingly in a daze. One that his bandmate noticed.
“Yo, mate, you good?” He questions, causing Hobie to snap out of it.
“‘s all good. They’re bloody good, ‘ll give ‘em that.”
The other nods “Yeah, ‘specially that singer. I think he was lookin’ at ya, mate.”
Though Hobie waved his friend off, he knew it was true. You looked right at him. You even winked. He had to tell you how good you sounded. How amazing your voice was. How much he enjoyed himself.
This was out of character for him. Of course, Hobie could admit when he sees talent. He can acknowledge it whenever it crosses his eyes. But he doesn’t ever let other bands know he admired them, much less individuals.
The song soon ended, and your band exited the stage to grab some water. You high-fived the others, congratulating everyone on such a good show. Spirits were high, and you couldn’t be more proud.
“Aye, good job [Name]! Want somethin’ to eat?”
“Just grab whatever. I’m gonna head to the dressing room.”
Your bandmates went to grab some food while you headed the opposite way. You were humming a song to yourself, turning the corner. Then, you hit someone, knocking into a seemingly strong body.
“Ah.. shit, I’m sorry.” You groan, rubbing your arm.
Well Hobie certainly didn’t think it would be this easy to find you. “‘s alright, swee’heart. Was my bad.”
Glancing up, you come face to face with a really gorgeous guy. He had decorated piercings all over his face, seemingly cool hair, and just such a laid-back aura about him. He was just so easy to stare at.
Then you remember this guy. He was the one you threw a wink at. The one who clapped louder than most for your band’s set. The one who stared at you almost the whole time he watched. He was a fan, if anything, you were confident in your thought.
“Hey, I know you. You were in the crowd tonight.” You point out with a small smile. “Enjoy the show?”
Hobie muses. “Yeah, was pre’ty impressed. You’ve got a killer voice, mate.”
Your face goes red at the compliment. This seemingly effortlessly cool guy was complimenting your voice. The voice you just sung and put out to a small crowd in a tiny pub. That he also happened to have been in.
“That means a lot! I’m glad you enjoyed!”
Hobie shrugged, leaning against the wall. “You’ve got a killer ons’age presence too. And you’re insanely smokin’, s’ you’re pre’ty set, mate.”
Oh!
Oh.
“That’s a pretty bold statement from a fan. But I enjoyed it.” You respond, smiling as you shrugged. “Just a guy trying to entertain the masses.”
You had to admit, Hobie knew how to get what he wanted. He said what was on his mind, despite only talking to you for about a minute or two. It was incredibly charming. You’ve had plenty of pushy fans try to get your attention in the worst ways. But Hobie was way different. He talked to you so casually, as if chatting with an old friend.
Hobie smirks as he chuckles. “I know how t’ make a pre’ty boy feel good ‘bout himself.” He says, his eyes watching the way you stand and listen to him.
He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a napkin and pen. He writes something against the wall, causing you to crane your neck to try and see. But he finishes before you can, placing the napkin in your hand with a wink.
Then he walks off, with no more words.
You glance down at the napkin and a small smile plays at your lips. It has an address, phone number, and date on it, with a message at the bottom, written in a mixture of uppercase and lowercase letters;
‘bands playing here. come by. text me your next show date. - hobie’
So his name was Hobie.. you liked that name. It seemingly matched the guy you saw, the one who spoke so flawlessly and cooly, the one who seemingly made you almost breathless just by his presence. You definitely had to go to this concert. Had to see him in his own band. It was definitely going to be a sight to see.
You fold the napkin and slid it in your pocket, heading back to your band. While sitting there, you shot the number a text, saving it as well, wanting to inform Hobie of your intentions.
Me (12:32 AM):
thxs for the invite
ill see ya then
Hobie (12:33 AM):
that was quick
never caught ur name darlin
Me (12:33 AM):
its [Name]
Hobie (12:34 AM):
suiting
ill see ya, sweetheart
To say Hobie’s messages didn’t have your stomach doing some flips would be a lie. You were excited to get to know this guy, the mysterious pierced guy who thought you were good looking.
Hobie also had a smile tug at his lips after messaging you back. His band took notice, nudging him.
“Get that singer’s number, aye? Ya already look lovesick!”
Hobie rolled his eyes. “What of it?” Was all he said.
Yet even though both of you spent the night with your respective friends and bands, you couldn’t help but have thoughts of each other, awaiting the next faithful day you will meet.
#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader#hobie x reader#hobie brown#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#atsv#atsv x reader#atsv hobie
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💖 and 🧠 from the ask game <33
💖 What do you like most about your own writing?
my writing voice! i used to hate re-reading my own writing but now i can do so comfortably, even when i pick up on mistakes i missed or things i would change <3
i'm also fairly proud of my imagery, lol. that was something i worked hard to develop, and while i DO forget to like... describe things still when im writing, when i do remember/go back to add that in i feel more confident in my results lol
🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?
i have SO MANY of these
okay. i counted up the ones i have fleshed out outlines for, since there's more to talk about, and then i rolled a die <3
so! it's a jaytim fic inspired by the lyric, "why do you make me want to leave the world behind?" from the song stardust by new politics. the rest of the song doesn't actually fit, & i'll probs end up not using that line as the title, lol.
my outline for it is almost more of a not-fic than an outline, so... i'll just paste that in here, ig. pls excuse my brackets <3
why do you make me want to leave the world behind?
Jason couldn’t tell you what the final straw was. Maybe it was the last argument he got into with Bruce. Maybe it was hearing Joker’s laugh, again, echoing through the streets of Gotham. Maybe it was the gunshot he took to the shoulder, a few weeks ago. It— The point is, it could have been any number of things. Whatever the final straw, one thing is clear: he can’t do this any more.
And it’s not that he wants to abandon Crime Alley, or his people, it’s just—
He’s tired. He’s been tearing himself apart for the mission since he was twelve. He died, even—only to come back and keep doing it. And now… He’s just… done. He wants to live, and he can’t do that when the mission controls his life. He needs out.
Thing is…
He can’t leave Tim.
Tim is… somewhere along the way, Tim has become his rock. They’ve moved in together. When Jason suits up, Tim is at his side. When Tim needs stitches, it’s Jason holding the needle. When Jason comes home, knuckles bruised and lip split, it’s Tim there with the ice pack. And when they’re finished tending each other’s wounds, large and small, they fall into bed together—sore but together.
Jason doesn’t want to give that up.
He knows Tim won’t leave Gotham. Knows that Tim views Robin/Red Robin as the most important thing he’s ever done, the thing that gives him purpose, makes him feel real. He can’t ask him to leave it. He can’t.
But he’s not sure he can stay, either.
It’s a big, tangled mess, and Jason is no closer to figuring out what to do when Tim approaches him one evening. He sits down with him, holding his tablet, looking like he’s got something on his mind. He doesn’t bother with much preamble.
“My parents bought a place in [idk, some nice coastal or country area] a long time ago. A small vacation home, I think. It was one of those things we didn’t lose when Dad went bankrupt. I think… It looks like a nice place to retire, don’t you think so?”
Jason can hardly believe what he’s hearing, even as he agrees with feeling. He has to pinch himself once or twice, as they start making plans. They’re as methodical about it as they are everything else, hashing out all the details. It doesn’t feel real; not even when they inform the others, not when they start packing. Not even when they finally make the move, or unpack, or settle into the house.
It’s not until the second morning that it starts to sink in. This is real. It’s happening.
They grow roots. Befriend the neighbors. Tim gets back into photography, dragging Jason out with him on long walks to capture the scenery. He gets a job, too, working on cars, and talks Jason into pursuing a degree, the way he always wanted.
They gets visits and calls from the bats, and their friends—some more than others—and they usually even remember to leave business out of it. It’s… everything Jason wanted, honestly—though it’s not always easy. There are still nightmares, restless nights, and times when neither of them can watch or read the news without the urge be out there. Especially when there’s a crisis.
The worst of it, though, is the itching, nagging feeling in Jason’s chest. The thing that tells him it’s too easy. Too simple. Eventually something has to break—and each nightmare, each restless night makes Jason more and more certain it’s going to be Tim. One day, he’s going to wake up and decide that a quiet life with Jason isn’t what he wants after all.
He’ll leave.
Jason keeps his worries to himself. Just—tries to bottle up the good days, tucking them close under his heart, to keep him warm when he’s alone.
Before he knows it, though, a year passes. Tim still hasn’t left. Jason wakes up first, like he always does, and puts on the coffee before starting breakfast. Tim stumbles out of their bedroom just after Jason finishes the pancake batter. Even with a regular sleep schedule, he’s still not a morning person.
He goes for Jason first; winding his arms around his waist and sneaking a kiss before he pours his coffee. He slips out of the way, leaning against the wall to sip his coffee and watch Jason. And somewhere between the first batch of pancakes and the fourth, he glances over, and—he sees it.
Tim is smiling at him over the rim of his cup, still a little hazy from sleep. His eyes are no longer laden with bags. His skin is clear, a little tan. He’s got freckles, just a few, dotting his face. There’s a light, a glow to him that once Jason only saw in glimpses.
He’s happy.
Here.
With Jason.
It knocks the breath from him. He doesn’t know what his face is doing—only that Tim is at his side in an instant, coffee forgotten on the counter. Wrapped in Tim’s arms, Jason finds himself spilling everything, every thought and fear that’s plagued him for the last year. When he’s done, Tim smiles sadly, his hold turning into something like a cradle, despite their size difference.
“Robin was the most important thing in my life for a long time. First because watching you both, knowing what I knew… made me feel part of something bigger. Something amazing. And then because it gave me purpose. I was doing something that mattered, and so that made me feel like I mattered. And being good at it… It made me feel like I belonged, like I was wanted.” He strokes Jason’s cheek. “But… It always felt like it could be taken away. There were times when I thought it had been. And then… us. Jason, I don’t need Robin anymore. You make me feel like I matter—and I don’t… I don’t have to… to be perfect, or prove myself. I can just be here, with you, and that’s enough. I’m enough. And that… It means everything, Jay.”
Jason is tearing up. Supposedly, he’s the one who’s good with words—and Tim has pages of love poetry and sweet letters tucked away that can attest to that—but right now? He has none. All he can do is kiss him, and hope that everything he wants to say comes through.
The gratitude. The awe. The agreement. Tim does matter, and he doesn’t have to do anything to earn it, because Jason loves him. And fuck—the reason Jason stayed, the reason he couldn’t just leave on his own was because with Tim…
Tim has always taken him as he is. He doesn’t ask Jason to be anything more than he is, and because of that… Jason wants to be. He feels like the best version of himself when they’re together, and to hear that he gives Tim that same feeling—
It’s everything.
Tim’s coffee grows cold. Breakfast burns.
Neither of them care.
[ fic writer ask game ]
#its sappy and self-indulgent bc that's just where i'm at right now ig#thank you for asking!#waffleinator-inator#asks and answers#jaytim#tauriawritesfanfic#also this is another idea/fic/wip ive wanted to yell abt so ty for giving me the opportunity to share!
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24 to 25 ✧.* y.ji (part two)
➳ PAIRING: jeongin x fem!reader
➳ GENRE: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, christmas
➳ WARNINGS: mild language, mentions of food, long as hell, i put the ‘slow’ in slowburn (in my defense this trope does not work without it), i’ve checked like 1922847473 times for inconsistencies but if there are any pls be nice it’s my first long fic ;w; also you can slowly see the quality of my writing decline in the end im sorry 😭
➳ WORD COUNT: 47.7k (part one: 25.9k; part two: 21.8k) i'm so sorry
➳ SUMMARY: “stay for christmas?” was a phrase jeongin first uttered to you when you were both ten years old, but neither of you had any idea the bond those three little words would hold as the years go by. (inspired by “24 to 25” by stray kids)
➳ NOTES: IT’S FINALLY UP!! i’m so sorry for the wait, i really really wanted to get this right and it took me wayyy longer than i thought it would. but i love how it turned out and i'm so proud of it. i hope y’all enjoy :’)
i’ll include more to the note when i'm not in such a rush to get this posted but tysm to everyone who helped me in writing it! @crispy-chan jas thank you for beta reading (i’m so sorry it was so long) your comments were really sweet and really reassured me that i was doing okay <;33 thank u @pearleechai and @gloseoks for helping me out with that one part i got stuck on for like a week lmaooo. to elsa specifically, ty for all ur help and encouragement in the couple chapters i asked for help on :D i’m sorry it meant u had some of the fic spoiled for u tho ;w; lastly, @svtbabies hopie u have been my lifesaver from start to finish w this fic. thank u so so much for planning w me and for the multiple times you’ve saved me from a huge writer’s block. i wouldn’t have been able to complete this without you, so ty for everything <33 also ty for the banner lol
➳ IMPORTANT!!! this fic is so long that i have to split it into two parts. i'd use the legacy editor but i can't toggle btwn the two anymore 😭 i did not intend for it to be this lengthy but anything for childhood friends to lovers i guess. PLEASE READ PART ONE FIRST.
part one | [part two]
network tags: @straykidsland
taglist: @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @crow953 @urmomma0324 @tasmtrilogy
20.
Regardless of how desperately you wanted to enjoy Christmastime like you'd usually do, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it this year.
You had long broken up with Heeseung, and while it did hurt immensely to begin with, it still persisted as a dull ache. You’re a little bummed you couldn’t indulge in your Christmas romance fantasies this year, but you figured you’d manage. You know that wasn't everything in a relationship; it was just a bonus, especially for someone like you.
But what does feel unbearable this year had nothing to do with love or romance. All you could think about was last year and the way Jeongin had left.
It plagued your mind for weeks after that night, on whether or not you should have stayed and spent your time with Jeongin instead of bringing Heeseung to Jisung's Christmas party. Nevertheless, you had to remind yourself that you didn't know Jeongin had planned to leave that night—and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't go back and change the past.
You couldn't tell if you resented Jeongin for what he did, or if you blame yourself for not listening to him. All the times he wanted to speak to you last year—maybe even to tell you, you just cut him off, too caught up in your new romance with Heeseung to even notice what Jeongin wanted to say.
Perhaps this was what you deserved for trying to follow Jisung’s advice when you were sixteen. “Date and move on,” he said. There was nothing to move on from, but you still tried it anyway.
And look where that got you.
Your original plan had been to stay nestled up in the comforts of your bed, watching whatever trash Hallmark had put out this year as you drank an atrocious amount of hot chocolate to comfort yourself. You were tempted to avoid Christmas plans altogether, especially when all the neighborhood party would do was remind you of Jeongin..
However, Jisung, the persistent fool that he was, wouldn't let that happen. Not when you could be watching laughable Christmas movies with him and his, and now your, friends.
Felix and Hyunjin are squished together on the loveseat in Jisung's apartment, not that Felix seemed to mind as it gave him an excuse to cuddle someone. Seungmin is positioned on the floor, his legs crossed under the coffee table as he picks away at what little snacks remained in the bowls Jisung had laid out earlier. And you were lazily stretched out across the sofa, your head in Jisung's lap. Since Jisung was the one that dragged you out of bed, he was going to have to put up with your grumpy state.
"What do we watch next?" Felix calls out as the end credits of the Elf roll across the screen. He casually scans the room for your responses, his arms wrapped loosely around Hyunjin's waist.
"The Grinch?" Seungmin suggests before Hyunjin quickly follows up with A Charlie Brown Christmas.
You pout. All of those sound good but you’d be lying if you said you were in a particular mood for any of them. It almost crushed you to say that, as they had brought you so much joy in the past, but none of them seemed to cut it this year.
A few seconds passes by and you decide to speak up, throwing in a suggestion of your own.
"Are there any Christmas animes? Why don't we watch those instead of a movie?"
A deafening silence fills the room at your suggestion. The boys exchange confused glances with each other, and you begin to wonder if you said something wrong. If there were Christmas cartoons, surely there’d be Christmas animes, right? But your thoughts are quickly cut short when you hear Jisung gasp rather loudly.
"Oh, so NOW you want to get into anime?!"
Your frown deepens and you hit Jisung's thigh with your fist. "Shut up, it was just a suggestion."
Another silence hangs in the room and the other three boys watch you silently like hawks, as if they were ready to pounce on you at the next move you’d make. You hate how small you feel under their piercing stares, and you shuffle to the other side of the couch in hopes that they’d stop.
"This isn't because you miss a certain person, is it?” Jisung chirps in a teasing tone. He crawls over to your end of the couch, a grin pulling at his lips as he pokes at your cheek repeatedly. “Is that why you're all Scrooge McDuck?"
You jerk your head away and shove his hand back, letting out a strangled groan. "Oh my god, Jeongin has nothing to do with this! and it’s Ebenezer Scrooge!"
Jisung snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. "I never said Jeongin's name."
"He got you there, just saying." Felix chimes in with a shrug.
You huffed frustratedly, spluttering, "I– this– this isn't about Jeongin, and this isn't about Heeseung either. can we just move on from this already?"
"You know it's okay to miss him, right?” Hyunjin says, his voice soft. “You’re not doing anything wrong."
"I never said that!" you groan again, raising your voice slightly. "I can’t suggest an anime because you guys assume I miss someone? Can I not do anything without you guys thinking it’s about a boy?!”
"Well, you never even mentioned anime once until now,” Seungmin points out, “the only reason you would is because of Jeongin—”
“It’s not about Jeongin!” you snap, burying your face in your hands in defeat. “God, I hate men.”
A chorus of offended ‘hey’s echo throughout the room which causes your eyes to roll.
"After all this time? after all these years, sugarplum?" Jisung gasps, his hand over his heart in feigned offense.
"Oh my god, you know what's not what I mean, Jisung," you huff, grabbing your phone from the coffee table as you stand up. "I'm going to get us more snacks, I hate this."
You carry yourself to the kitchen and from behind you, you hear Jisung call out, "But you haven't taken the bowls with you!”
Without turning back, you make a face to yourself. "I'll just get new ones," you respond blankly.
The kitchen was a break you so desperately needed. While you could still hear the boys chatting in the living room, it was just muffled enough to keep your mind at ease. you thought you could get away with Jisung not mentioning Jeongin, but maybe you had put too much faith in him.
You didn't mean it, really, but sometimes it got to be a lot.
You unlock your phone and staring back at you is a photo you knew you should have changed earlier, but something inside of you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.
It was an old selfie of you and Jeongin, one you had to beg him to take in the first place a few years prior. You both had your large winter coats on and his arm hung loosely around your shoulders as you both grinned into the camera. In the picture, you had a light blush on your cheeks—presumably from the cold—but deep down you knew otherwise.
You brought up his contact. This photo was one where he isn't looking at you, but he’s still holding up a peace sign. Just the look of it and the memory of that day flashes in your mind, making you chuckle.
Clicking on the text conversation, you're met with the last text you had sent him months and months ago, the small seen tick making you frown.
I miss you... you type out the words slowly. Your thumb hovered over the send key, but you can’t bring yourself to press down.
The glassy feeling in your eyes appears and you blink the tears away rapidly as you let your finger fall on the backspace key, completely erasing the message before you lock your phone once more.
What you didn't know was in his dorm room, bundled up in blankets like a burrito was Jeongin as he hopelessly scrolled through his phone. he had stumbled across a photo of Christmas lights that reminded him of you, and it took every ounce of his being to stop himself from sending it to you, finding himself scrolling through your message history instead. How could he text you so casually after what he did? Afterjust leaving like that without so much as a proper goodbye?
He watches your typing symbol come up at the bottom, only to have it disappear moments later—leaving him just as despair-ridden as you.
21.
You lost track of how long you had been cuddling against Yeonjun’s chest as Die Hard played on the tv. You had wanted a Christmas film, an actual Christmas film, however, Yeonjun was adamant that this did, in fact, count, as it happened around Christmas day.
You gaze up at Yeonjun, your eyes lingering on his own. You smile at how much focus he has on the movie, to the point where he’s hardly blinking.
You originally knew Yeonjun from your neighborhood, which kind of makes things go full circle for you in a way. Him being an older kid, though, meant that you never had a reason to know him personally or even have a chance to talk to him. He stuck with his group, and you stuck with yours.
But in a weird twist of fate, you met again when you got a part-time job at a small family restaurant just off of your university campus. After a few awkward conversations and some catching up, you both seemed to warm up to each other and Yeonjun soon asked you out on a date… you happily said yes.
Yeonjun is amazing. He's patient with you, smiles at you like you light up the whole sky, looks after you when you feel ill, he takes you on adventures at midnight for snacks just because you mentioned you were hungry.
He’s, on paper, your dream guy. Handsome, understanding, open and caring. You like him, you really do. Yet, it always feels like something's missing—but you can never put your finger on what.
The end credits of Die Hard roll across the screen, causing you to lift your weight from off of Yeonjun and stretch your arms out around you.
“I should get home,” you yawn, causing Yeonjun to pout slightly.
He reaches out to grab your hand as he whines. “Do you have to?”
You match his pout, nodding your head slowly. “Yeah, I should get back before it snows.”
“You don’t have to,” Yeonjun muses, and you watch the corners of his mouth twitch into a hopeful smile. “You could… stay over for Christmas? What do you think?”
Your breath hitches at his words, stiffening like a board as you stare at him with wide eyes.
“Stay… over for Christmas?”
He seems to notice the hesitation in your voice, and he begins to rub gentle circles with his thumb on the back of your hand.
“Think about it,” Yeonjun continues, “waking up together on Christmas day? It would be so cute!” he grins. You could practically see the tiny hearts floating about his head.
Stay over for Christmas. He doesn't know about it, but the whole sentence makes you feel uneasy. The implications and everything they bring with them—not to mention all the memories they invoke—are too much for you to handle at that moment. Not that you’d be the first to admit it
“I— I shouldn’t,” you start, your heart hurting as Yeonjun’s lips twist into a frown. “Baby, Soobin’s here and I don’t want to make things awkward for you by intruding.”
Yeonjun sits up suddenly, his fingers linking with your own. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, plus he enjoys your company. Not as much as I do, obviously,” Yeonjun cheekily grins at his words, sending a wink your way.
You huff a laugh. “Regardless,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “I... I don’t think I feel comfortable staying here yet.” Your own frown seems to match his. “So I'd rather get back before it starts snowing.” Your shoulders drop and you focus on his fingers that are busy playing with your own. “I’m sorry.”
One of Yeonjun’s hands moves from your fingers and delicately slides against your cheek, guiding your head so you’re looking up at him. Whilst you can see hints of sadness behind his eyes, his smile is one of comfort and understanding.
“Don’t be silly.” His smile grows. “I like you and we can go as slow or quick as you want.” His hand moves from your cheek as he lightly brushes your hair out of your face. “Don’t be scared to tell me, we’ll work through it together.”
Your heart swells at his words and you lean into his touch, placing a small kiss on his palm. “You’re too sweet to me,” you mumble.
He disagrees. “No, it’s just the decent thing everyone should do, They're your boundaries, I’m not going to be an idiot and push them.”
“How did I find you?” You wonder aloud. His cheeks tint red and his smile somehow grows even wider than before.
“No, no, how did I find you?”
Your foreheads lean against one another, and you can feel his breath ever-so-slightly tickle your skin.
“Can you guys stop being disgusting now?” a voice huffs from behind you two.
You and Yeonjun jump apart from each other and you turn to see his roommate, Soobin, standing with a scowl plastered on his face, an empty cereal bowl in hand.
Yeonjun grumbles to himself, muttering ‘You're just jealous,’ as he grabs your hand, guiding you past Soobin and towards his dorm room door. At the same time, you quickly call out a goodbye to Soobin and Yeonjun sighs sadly when you both stop at his door.
He pulls you close and you can feel his body heat seeping into you. It almost, almost, makes you want to stay, as you would rather be in the warm arms of your boyfriend than face the ten-minute walk home in the cold.
“Text me when you get home?” Yeonjun asks into your shoulder and you hum in response.
“I will."
Before you pull away completely, Yeonjun places a light kiss onto the side of your lips, leaving you open to steal one right back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” this time Yeonjun is the one to hum. A small smile plays at his lips. “I love you.”
You still for a moment at his words. You should say them back—you know you should—but you just can’t. They’re on the tip of your tongue and yet you fall silent instead. You settle for stealing another kiss from him and reaffirming your words from earlier, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You can tell his smile is dripping in sadness, but you're unable to bring yourself to utter the words he so desperately wants to hear back from you. You look back and wave for a final time before you exit the hallway that leads you to the elevators and out of the building.
When you finally make your way outside, you take a deep breath; it feels almost like a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders. The pressure of staying over with Yeonjun is gone. But now in its place is another burden you’re not ready to think about. It had started creeping into the back of your mind the moment he said those words—a reminder of times gone by. Of another boy with dark hair and eyes that sparkled and those same, fateful words.
As you walk home, you shake your head, trying to push back the tears already threatening to cloud your vision. You’ve spent too long shoving down and ignoring those feelings just to ruin everything now by bringing them back up. You aren’t ready to think about it now and, as you look up at the clear, cloudless sky, you’re not sure if you ever will be.
It did not snow that winter. Not a single flake fell from the sky.
22.
After years of not going to the neighborhood Christmas party, it feels weird to be back.
The party happens to be at Yeonjun’s family’s house this year, and once Yeonjun found this out, he jumped at the chance to introduce you to his family. You couldn’t help but smile at the hope swirling in his eyes that day as he gushed about how much they’ll love you.
But being the sweetheart that he is, he definitely noticed the doubt swimming in your eyes. He tried his best to reassure you, telling you how sweet his family is and how excited they are to finally meet you.
That’s what wins you over, and now you’re here. The feeling of being home, or, at least, a few houses away from it, brings a warm feeling to your chest. To be able to spend it with your lovely boyfriend only deepens the feeling.
In a weird way, though, you notice bits and bits, just minor details that others seem to gloss over, that only tug at your heartstrings. From the movie playing on the flatscreen, to the gingerbread house tha’s about to be devoured by a wide-eyed seven-year-old, it brings this feeling of nostalgia that you can’t quite shake off. The more the night goes on, the more it seems to eat at you.
If you didn’t already think this was some weird full circle moment of sorts, you definitely do now.
Everywhere you look, all you seem to get is mirages of past times. Faint traces of Jeongin linger in the crevices of your mind. Even if it had been two years since you last saw him, he stuck to your memories like glue.
You tried your best to push those memories to the side—to push the ick you felt every time something that reminded you of those moments away, even if it did send a chill down your spine.
But Yeonjun just had to utter those words. “Want to stay over for Christmas?”
It made you physically pause, the words processing in your mind. Ten years worth of memories surf through your mind at lightning speed. The slight word change gives you the worst feeling in your stomach you have ever felt—it was like a huge pit of emotions had opened up inside of you.
You take a breath and exhale it slowly. “Do you mean stay for Christmas?”
“Stay for Christmas, stay over for Christmas,” Yeonjun sighs, “same thing.”
“It’s different,” is all you can mumble in response.
Yeonjun groans, leaning his weight onto his hands that are placed on the counter sides.
“One word difference.”
You snap to face him, a stern look making an appearance on your face. Your voice dripping with irritation, you say, “But there’s still a difference.”
You can cut the sudden tension that arises with a knife and it’s like that is exactly what Yeonjun chooses to do. He stands straight, turning to you, and you can see how tense his jaw is—like he’s been holding everything in, and how it’s now about to burst open at the seams.
“We’ve been together for over a year and you still can’t even stay over. And when I offer to spend Christmas with you because I know it’s your favorite time of year, you fight me on it.” Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Is it because I’m the one that’s asking?”
“What?” you gasp, shaking your head. “It’s just, it’s stay for Christmas. Not stay over, not stay with, it’s stay for Christmas.”
Yeonjun squeezes his eyes shut, hand still in his hair. All you can do is stare at him, waiting for what he says next. Once he does open his eyes, you can see the fogginess as in them, and when he speaks again, you feel like you’re being torn in two.
“But I’m not Jeongin, I can’t ask in the way he would.”
You open your mouth to speak, shocked at his words, but nothing comes out.
“What does Jeongin have to do with this?” You question. “I like you because you’re you, Yeonjun, not because you’re someone else.”
You both stand there, staring at each other and you can’t help but feel like neither of your words are sinking in. Like they were falling onto deaf ears.
“Well what about the snow?” Yeonjun suddenly asks. Had he been spending too much time with Jisung?
“Yeonjun, baby, it’s just the weather,” you look at him with soft eyes, but all it seems to do is break him more.
With a hiccup, he tries to keep his tears at bay, “Then how come it never happens when we’re together?”
You have to look away from him, not because you don’t care, but because if you look at him any longer, tears would spill from your own eyes. It would only just make everything harder than it already is.
Yeonjun’s sniffles fill your ears and from the corner of your eye, you can see him wipe his tears away. Even when he takes a few steps towards you and takes one of your hands in his, you’re still unable to look at him in fear of breaking.
“I’ll walk you home,” he whispers gently.
You gaze at the floor and nod your head, squeezing the hand that held yours. He squeezes it right back in a silent understanding. It’s like you hear both of your hearts cracking like glass in the silence, but it was unlike any type of heartbreak you had ever felt before…
It can’t compare to the heartbreak you had with Heeseung, or even the heartbreak you felt when Jeongin left. This is its own brand of heartbreak, one that would last and one that would carve itself into your heart, a cruel reminder that will follow you for all time.
The walk back to your apartment is a quiet one. Your fingers stay linked with Yeonjun’s, and every now and then, you’d squeeze each other’s hands to remind yourself of the moment—of the feeling of your hands entwined with each other.
When you’re outside of your door, it’s bittersweet and it’s heartbreaking. And when Yeonjun reluctantly draws his hand away from yours, you want everything to chase after it with your own.
This is when you finally look up at him.
His eyes are red and fresh tears have prickled up in his eyes as soon as they meet yours. As soon as you see his tears, your eyes quickly well up to match his.
“We should,” he hiccups. “We should take some time apart.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, sniffling away the sob that crawls up your throat. You feel Yeonjun’s light kiss on your cheek, and that sob defies you, escaping your lips.
When Yeonjun pulls away, he speaks softly, as if speaking any louder would break him completely. “We’re on different pages and we both deserve people who aren’t.”
His lips linger on your cheek, like a silent plea begging you not to let him move away, but to pull him closer. To tell him that you both could make whatever it is you called a relationship work.
But you don’t, and he soon pulls away, the warmth of his lips is quickly replaced with a damp, cold breeze.
You regret opening your eyes when you do because you’re met with Yeonjun’s own tears rolling down his face. With no attempt to stop them, Yeonjun hiccups and looks away from you.
“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” his voice strains.
As he walks away, you open your mouth to yell out for him, but nothing comes out when you try. You just watch as he slowly disappears down the hallway, his shoulders hunched, shuddering slightly every time a quiet sob escapes him.
You can’t tell if you’re lucky or not when you enter the apartment and realize that Jisung isn’t home. On one hand, you wouldn’t have to cry in front of him—on the other, you really don’t want to cry on your own.
You trudge your way to your room, a numbness overtaking your body. You crave the warmth of your blankets and can’t wait to let them hold you in comfort as you cry for the rest of the night.
When your blankets are secured around you and long after the tears have dried out, you sit there in self pity. Your phone is staring up at you, and you somehow find your way to your camera roll. An album of photos of you and Yeonjun sits right by your recents, and you’re hesitant to click on it. But you do, and the collection of photos from the past year and a half makes your heart wrench all over again.
You wish the relationship didn’t end this way as badly as he did, if not more. Yeonjun was perfect in every way—sweet, understanding, patient—yet, somehow, it still wasn’t enough to keep you two together.
“But I’m not Jeongin.” His words echo in your mind as you swipe through all of your selfies with him. He’s right: he’s not Jeongin. But that shouldn’t have mattered… right?
“I can’t ask in the way he would.” He can’t.
Or can he?
If he had not flubbed the iconic line, not even with the slightest one-word difference… would you be where you are right now?
You let your phone drop onto the mattress as you ponder. Burrowing yourself further into your blankets, you try to imagine Yeonjun saying the line correctly this time. ‘Stay for Christmas?’ he’d chirp, hope lighting up his beautiful brown eyes. ‘Stay for Christmas?’ he’d pipe, a pure smile pulling his soft lips upward.
But it doesn’t feel right.
No matter how you try to picture it, there’s something about those words leaving Yeonjun’s mouth that makes your stomach twist. As hard of a time as you gave him about getting the phrase wrong, imagining him getting it right almost feels worse.
Maybe he can’t pull it off like Jeongin can. Maybe he was missing the awkward little beat Jeongin always carried when he uttered those three little words. Maybe he lacked the sheepish glow Jeongin always seemed to have creep up his cheeks when he said it, regardless of how coolly he tried to pull it off. Don’t forget the way he’d stupidly wiggle his eyebrows at you, and the faint little giggle that followed as he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.
It’s a charm you truly believe only Jeongin could pull off.
But it shouldn’t have mattered that much. Jeongin wasn’t your boyfriend—Yeonjun was. And it’s not like Yeonjun didn’t have his own charm to him. His was more classic romantic, per se—always showing up at your doorstep with roses and a sweet smile, surprising you with dinner, taking you out for midnight drives while you blast both of your favorite songs. He’s a true Romeo, a type of lover that only exists in the movies.
“But I’m not Jeongin.”
You can’t stop Yeonjun’s gut-wrenching words from haunting your mind. It’s like the toll of a bell, its low tone ringing in every corner of your skull, shaking every crevice of your brain. Really, it shouldn’t bother you this much.
For starters, Jeongin is no Romeo. You’ve witnessed him try to be one firsthand—multiple times, actually. The keyword here is ‘try’.
There really were no suave, overly romantic elements to Jeongin, like there were for guys in the movies. He doesn’t need big gestures like flower bouquets bigger than your head to show that he cares. It’s all in the details, the smaller things he did, how he knew you nearly better than you did yourself. Taking you to see the lights all those years ago meant more to you than any grand movie gesture ever could have. Ultimately, he doesn’t need anything else because he is enough as it is. It’s a thought that slowly crept in over time and you never even noticed until it hit you like a brick. He’s not picture-perfect, but that’s not who you want him to be.
He’s just… Jeongin.
A part of you wants to admit it, but maybe, just maybe, he and stay for Christmas were what pushed your love for Christmas and the winter season more. But now that he isn’t here, that’s why it isn’t the same.
Because is there really a Christmas without Stay for Christmas?
The longer you stare at the folder, filled to the brim with photos of you and Yeonjun over the course of your relationship, the more unbearable it becomes. Your thumb hovers over the back button, soon letting fall against the screen.
Scrolling away as far as you could from it, another folder that instantly causes a mountain of flashbacks appears. Giggling at the joke title you named the album, you stare at it for a moment. You aren’t sure when the last time you looked at this album was.
As soon as you click on it, you’re hit with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia so hard, it almost hurts.
It’s a compilation of photos of you and Jeongin, dating back to when your parents handed you your first smartphone. You’re able to scroll so far back that you can find photos of Jeongin in that obnoxious purple sweater. Somehow, as you look at it in that moment, it doesn’t seem as obnoxious as it used to be…
Maybe it had grown on you, like stay for Christmas had grown on Jeongin.
And how pictures of Christmases before (and all-year-round photos) made your heart seem to swell in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. All the lights that grazed your presence when you were with him, all the longer-than-necessary hugs you two shared in the snow, even the thoughts, the memories of it, are like little static shocks sending metaphorical butterflies swarming around you. It plays at your chest like a flute and it makes you begin to wonder… if the thought of Yeonjun or actually being around Yeonjun, or even his touch, made you feel that way.
You’d think since Yeonjun is—was—your boyfriend, you wouldn’t have to think so hard for the answer. Yet here you are, comparing everything you felt with Jeongin to how you felt with Yeonjun over the past year.
It opens up the box of feelings you’ve tried so hard to push away. This time though, there’s no stopping it as everything bubbles up and spills over.
You continue looking through the photos of you and Jeongin, hardly noticing when the pictures start to blur slightly, fresh tears making their way down your cheeks. You missed him, you missed him so much it makes your chest hurt. There’s no denying that anymore, not that there was ever a point to it anyway. You missed everything about him, how he knew you like the back of his own hand to how effortless things had been between you two for so long.
A teary smile makes its way onto your face, unable to stop the overwhelming warmth that tore through you as you gaze at one photo of you two. Jeongin had an arm slung over your shoulders, braces-covered smile beaming up at you from the screen. You had a grin to match, happy and effortless, without a care in the world.
That’s how Jeongin had always made you feel, even during times when you had disagreements or fought over stupid things. At the end of the day, you always made your way back to him. Because ultimately, nobody else could make you feel the way he could—like you were safe, like you were home.
Eventually you ran out of photos to look through, and somehow you made your way to your messages, scrolling through and rereading old texts from Jeongin.
i miss you… you type out, take a deep breath, and hit send.
Instantly, he responds, making your heart swirl treacherously. i miss you too.
A second later, another text appears from him, making one last wave of tears pool in your eyes. stay for christmas?
The timing truly couldn’t be any worse than this, but you can’t deny the real reason behind your outburst anymore. All the seemingly-random bursts of butterflies in your stomach when you were a teenager slowly start to make sense. All the times your heart would skip a beat whenever he looked at you a certain way, the telltale sense of warmth you felt when you were even around him; heck, the entire incident at the winter formal—it all adds up.
There’s no denying who your heart yearns for anymore. And, if given the choice, there’s no denying which dark-haired boy you would live everything with all over again. No more running away, only running back to him—if only fate would let you.
wouldn’t miss it for the world.
23.
“Why so glum, chum?”
You barely move your head from where you’re curled up on the sofa to look at your roommate as he bounces into the living room. His overly energetic skips come to a halt right behind you and he looms his head above you, letting the corners of his mouth drag into an exaggerated pout.
You let out a slow breath and stare back at him with solemn eyes. The weather had dropped to the all-too-familiar December chill, rainbow lights adorned the city—heck, you’re watching A Charlie Brown Christmas for the third time in a row—but you can’t seem to will yourself into the Christmas spirit even if you tried. The reason seems pretty obvious to you.
For better or worse, the boy tapping his fingers on the back of the couch as he waits impatiently for your answer is one you’ve known for years. Over time, he’s morphed from the awkward older kid that ‘needs to take a couple babies under [his] wing’, to a sweet (when he wants to be)—dare you say, mature (again, when he wants to be)—older brother figure of sorts. If anyone knows why you’re so somber as you wallow in candy cane wrappers and your favorite ugly Christmas sweater, it should be him.
“You know why,” you grumble.
You think that’s enough of an answer, but Jisung bends down to get a better look at you and attempts to pry more.
“Hmm, do I?”
Another, more irritated huff leaves your parted lips as you turn to Lucy mercilessly grilling Charlie Brown, and you make damn sure your back is to your snoopy roommate.
Why do you even need to explain yourself to him? Jisung has literally had a front-row seat to the entire story since before he knew how to part his hair properly. He watched you slowly and hopelessly fall for your best friend before his very eyes since you were sixteen. He witnessed you delude yourself into a bottomless pit of denial for years, pushing yourself down so far that not even the most picture-perfect guy could pull you out.
Your life might as well be a sappy romance anime unfolding right in front of him, and Jisung knows every minute detail, every moment of development, every tear you shed for Jeongin like the back of his hand. He could whip up a play-by-play of your history with that boy faster than he can for the plot of Your Name—and he loves that movie.
But you guess as the older brother figure, it also means he has to annoy the living hell out of you for it. Not that he didn’t in the first place, but usually he’d, you know, comfort you when you’re upset.
Waddling around the couch to plop next to you, with overdramatized puppy eyes boring into your soul, is not that comforting.
“Come onnn, Y/N,” Jisung sing-songs, poking at your cheek. “Talk to me.”
Your frown etches further downward. You don’t do anything to move his hand, though, and opt to just turn your head back to the Peanuts characters.
“Cheer up, sugarplum.” Jisung now squishes your cheeks in one hand like a doting mother. It earns a whine from you, and you finally slap his hand away.
“Jisung.” You sigh, keeping your eyes on the TV. “I’m really, really not in the mood for celebrating Christmas this year.”
It makes your heart ache to actually admit it out loud, but you’d be lying if you tried to say otherwise. Christmas will always be your favorite time of the year, but all the memories you carry with it hurt too much now. It’s all a gaping hole in your stomach that you can’t patch.
“I know, I know,” Jisung says simply, but a heart-shaped smile slowly forms as he speaks. You blink as you stare blankly at him—you don’t like that sparkle in his eye.
That suspicious grin only widens as he utters his next words.
“That’s why we’re hosting a Christmas party next week.”
Your heart stops for a second, and you stare at Jisung with wide eyes.
“We?!”
You’re sure Jisung senses the aggravation in your voice. You already, and very blatantly, you may add, have made it clear that all you want for Christmas this year is to wallow in your blanket burrito and watch whatever cheesy film Hallmark was putting out.
But of course, Jisung won’t let that happen. You know he means well, but you still wonder for a second why you agreed to move in with him once he graduated and came back home from college.
“You know this is my apartment, too, right?” you add.
“I know, but just trust me!” He beams, and it only makes you scowl more. “Oh, wait…”
His phone flashes on, a notification popping up on his lockscreen, and whatever it is seems to elate his already excessively cheerful mood. You peer over his shoulder with curious eyes as his thumbs fly across the keyboard, but Jisung places a palm to your forehead and pushes your head away before you can get a glimpse.
“Nuh uh, that’s private!” He tuts, and you frown at him again. As he slides his phone back in his pocket, the cheesy smile returns to his face. Once again, you’re not a fan.
“I need you to trust me, okay?” he says. “It’ll be fun! It’s just gonna be you, me, and our closest friends. Promise.”
You’re still not super on board with the idea. Even a small hangout seems too much for you right now, and you can practically feel the flashbacks from the last few years haunting your mind as you think.
“I… I don’t know, Jisung.”
“If I give you hot chocolate right now, would that influence your decision?”
You watch as Jisung turns around, whipping out two to-go cups from right next to him. A small smile makes its way to your face as he hands you one.
“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, taking a sip of the warm drink.
The gesture is surprisingly enough to make you say ‘yes’ a few harrowing (for Jisung) hours later, and that’s how you find yourself at your and Jisung’s “Christmas Eve Eve Spectacular”. Why Christmas Eve Eve? Who knows, but you did hear Jisung mumble something about being able to go to your neighborhood party in peace. Weird, especially when he seems to know that it’s on Christmas Eve this year.
Regardless, you think you did a good job of decorating the apartment for the occasion. Besides the small Christmas tree in the living room themed red and gold, you and Jisung had wrapped matching garlands above the curtains and hung wreaths on your bedroom doors. Your couch was adorned with throw pillows you had gotten on sale a week ago, and, because you didn’t have a fireplace, you opted to hang the stockings right above the TV instead. It’s very homey, yet screams young and broke at the same time.
The entertainment is even better. Something about Frosty The Snowman playing on the TV while a bunch of grown men yell at each other playing Twister just feels very college Friendsmas-esque to you. The best part? You’re in charge of the spinner. You can get your daily dose of Christmas cartoons without being trapped under a bunch of loud, sweaty guys.
“You’re cheating!” Hyunjin accuses Felix, slapping his hand from the yellow dot.
“It’s not my fault you don’t know what yellow means!” Felix yells back. He slams his hip into Hyunjin’s side and makes him topple over.
The taller boy gasps dramatically, pointing at Felix as he lies on the floor. “Now you really cheated, asshole!”
You snicker and shake your head at the boys’ shenanigans. You’ve nearly forgotten about the sour mood you were in just days ago; maybe giving in to Jisung’s incessant begging was the right decision.
Speaking of Jisung, he doesn’t seem too into the Twister game, and he’s usually one of the most competitive of the bunch. He was the first one out this round, claiming he “accidentally stumbled” on Seungmin’s hand as he “reached for the wrong dot”very early in the game. Weird.
From the corner of your eye, you can see him fervently checking his phone instead of watching the game, and sometimes, you’d catch a smug smile painting his face briefly before he quickly snaps back to a neutral facade. You’re tempted to snatch the boy’s phone from his hands and read whatever the hell is making him smirk so much.
After a moment, you focus back on the game. Seungmin and Felix are the only two left. Both are at the brink of collapsing, their entangled arms wobbling under them, and you’re placing bets with Hyunjin on who will fall first.
Felix’s arms give out first, after attempting to contort around himself and Seungmin as he stretches for a red dot. He groans out in pain, and you unceremoniously shove five dollars into Hyunjin’s hands as he revels in his victory.
“Thanks for the early present, Y/N,” he says, smiling cheesily.
You make a face akin to a grimace and roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I want a rematch!” Felix’s voice audibly cracks as he whines, lying in a starfish position on the floor.
“Why did you try to go under and not over me?!” Seungmin remarks with an incredulous stare.
Hyunjin snickers. “That’s what she said.���
You smack him on the chest as the other boys groan. “Oh shut up, Hyunjin!” You hiss, shaking your head at the very mature joke. “We can do a rematch, though, but it’s up to you two,” you add, pointing two fingers at Felix and Seungmin.
Before you bend down to fix the bunched-up Twister mat, you turn to Hyunjin one more time. “And no more dirty jokes!”
The doorbell rings through the small apartment, making a look of puzzlement cross your face. You know you aren’t expecting anyone besides the boys that are already here, so you look to Jisung to see if he is.
“Did you order takeout, Ji?”
Jisung shakes his head at you, but a small smile graces his lips. “Nope.”
You blink. “…Did you order a package?”
He chuckles lightly. “One could say that.”
The growing gleam in his eye makes you furrow your brow more. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His small smile morphs into a Cheshire-like grin.
“Why don’t you get the door and find out?”
You stare at him with a twisted face as you slowly get up. You really, really don’t like that sparkle in his eye.
Your stomach jumps with uneasiness as you make your way to the door. Part of it was due to Jisung’s odd phrasing, but regardless, you’re almost terrified to find out what lies on the other side. You just cross your fingers and hope it’s a terrible gift at best that you can pretend to like.
Your hand shakes as you slowly twist the top lock open, then the bottom. Then you pull the door open, and you feel your heart rattle in your chest at the sight.
“…Jeongin?”
You feel like you’re dreaming as you stare at the boy in front of you. Jeongin has a comfy, dark purple sweater over a white hoodie—an actually decent shade of purple that’s pleasing to the eye. He runs a hand through his messy black hair as he smiles at you, letting out a deep but nervous chuckle when he realizes he’s just fluffed his hair up more. He’s grown it out since you last saw him, and his bangs perfectly frame his face, some strands falling in front of his eyes.
You feel the breath sucked out of your lungs. Not because he looks good (but you’re not denying that), or because you pick up a hint of sandalwood and amber lingering from him that nearly makes you dizzy—but because you feel all the memories from over the years flood in all at once. First come the good memories, and there’s tons of them. The several times you played hooky with him, the night he took you to see the glittering lights… the day you first met. It all brings a warm feeling to your chest, sending your heart fluttering as a light blush coats your cheeks.
But right after the good, you’re brought back down to earth with the bad. You’re fortunate that the bad is so little compared to the good, but the night before he left for college so suddenly is one you just can’t erase, no matter how hard you try. Memories of concerned glances and the surging feelings of regret and heartbreak make themselves known once again. Every moment of longing and the mixed feelings of wanting to reconnect with him, to be by his side again, causes your insides to twist in uncomfortable ways.
You can’t tell if you want to yell at him after leaving and not telling you himself, or if you want to run into his arms and never let him go.
Say something, Y/N, your mind screams at you as you remain frozen in place. But what are you supposed to say to someone so dear to your heart, that also happens to be the reason it’s ached for all these years?
You draw in another breath, and you stammer out the first thing that comes to mind.
“H-Hi.”
You mentally slap yourself. That’s all you have to say? You have been yearning for this moment for three years, and all you can come up with is ‘hi’?
Luckily, Jeongin seems to reciprocate, mumbling a “hey” back with an awkward wave, but you still want to kick yourself for your pitiful attempt at a greeting.
You turn around to see Jisung visibly deflate at the interaction. It’s clear now that he’s had this surprise planned for a while, and all his offhand murmurs from the past week about ‘getting the band back together’ are starting to make much more sense.
He blinks, and in a moment’s notice, his frown is gone and he sweeps in to save the moment.
“Jeongin, come here, my honey sweet!”
You chuckle fondly as Jisung smothers Jeongin with bone-crushing hugs and excessive hair ruffles. It’s just like when you were all awkward tweens and teenagers in the school hallways, except Jisung wasn’t randomly popping up behind you two, and you were all considerably shorter. You forgot how much you missed that.
“We’re about to play another round of Twister,” Jisung chirps after a minute, his arms still securely around the younger. “But I think Hyunjin, Felix, and Seungmin all want to go against each other, so you can go next round.”
Hyunjin cocks a brow. “No, they just said everyone can joi—”
“No they didn’t, Hyunjin,” Jisung bites back through gritted teeth, and sends the blond a look that makes him cower back to the living room.
Once Hyunjin leaves the room, Jisung turns to a confused Jeongin. “Y/N’s spinning. You can keep her company, maybe catch up a bit while you’re at it?” he suggests.
Jeongin smiles lightly, but he’s shoved into the living room with you in tow before he can verbally respond.
You’re both unceremoniously pushed into your tacky Christmas pillows, and Jisung hands you the spinner. He even does the first spin for you, and sends you a wink as he moves to sit by the window.
You just blink, waiting for the arrow to come to a full stop. “Seungmin, left foot on blue,” you call when it does.
As Seungmin is stepping onto the end blue circle, you spin the spinner again, nibbling on your lip anxiously as you feel Jeongin’s body heat radiating onto you. It makes you want to squirm, and you try your best to keep your eyes on the spinner.
“Felix, left hand, red.”
Felix mumbles to himself, but you’re not sure what as you’re not really listening. Once he settles on a dot, you flick the spinner again.
Jeongin clears his throat and fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “How have you been?” He attempts—keyword: attempts—to ask casually.
You’re so focused on watching the spinner, all you do is hum in response. When the spinner slows and stops, you clear your own throat. “Jisung, right foot, green,” you call out, “and… alright,” you mumble afterward. “I’ve been alright, you?”
He watches you as you flick the plastic arrow again. “I’ve… I’ve been okay…”He trails off like he wants to say more, but he remains quiet.
“Hyunjin, left hand, yellow.”
You’re not sure how long you guys sit there silently for, but your insides feel like they’re trying to claw their way out of you. Maybe ten minutes of silence feels like ten hours, and you desperately pray for the game to end so you could do literally anything else.
If only your thirteen-year-old self could see you now. Maybe you were too dramatic that Christmas, because you are sure this just took the throne as The Most Awkward Conversation Of Your Life™.
Out of nowhere, a loud gasp booms over Michael Bublé’s “Have A Holly Jolly Christmas”, the boys’ shouting, and whatever cartoon autoplayed after Frosty ended. Everyone’s heads snap to Jisung, who stares with sparkly eyes at the world outside.
You lean past Jeongin to get a glance. Light gray skies, slow-floating crystals, fluffy white blanket… it makes you break out into a grin. So does Jeongin, who smiles fondly as he pats your knee. The move makes you want to do backflips.
“Oh my god, snow!” Jisung cheers, already scurrying for the door. He mutters something about it being ‘just what he needed’ as he zips past you and Jeongin, but quickly turns on his heel when he sees neither of you move a muscle.
“Um, hello?!” the older boy chastises you and Jeongin, tossing you your coats and hitting you both in the face. “It’s the first snow of winter, what are you doing?!” He claps his hands for emphasis, but not before he shoves a pair of mittens into both your hands. “You need. To see. The snow.”
You exchange a knowing look with Jeongin but follow Jisung’s hasty instructions. Neither of you seem to move as fast as he wants you to be, so he does the job for you by hurriedly, but carefully, pushing you both down the stairs and to the lobby.
Jeongin presses his lips into a thin line, stepping closer to you as Jisung dashes back up the stairs to get the rest of the group. You smile back politely, but say nothing else.
You turn back to the stairs at the sound of Jisung’s voice bouncing off the walls. Whether he knows you two could hear him or not, you don’t think he cares, considering that he’s already yelling at the top of his lungs.
“SEE!” He motions around himself widely. “I TOLD YOU IT’D SNOW WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER!” A dopey smile covers his face as he holds his hands up to his chest, like he himself had just miraculously fallen in love. “It’s like magic!”
Judging from a quick glance behind you as you make your way toward the front doors, Hyunjin seems to fully indulge in Jisung’s antics, smiling brightly and hopping up and down as they bound down the stairs. Felix and Seungmin, who trail behind them, don’t seem nearly as amused.
“Jisung, bro,” Seungmin blinks, “It’s literally just the weather.”
Jisung’s smile drops instantly and he glares at the brunet boy, pointing a finger at him. “No! You had to be there for everything, trust me! I’M NOT CRAZY, WATCH!”
The listless look doesn’t drop from Seungmin’s face as he follows his overly chipper friend downstairs.
Jeongin snorts, lightly bumping his shoulder into your own. “He’s still on that?”
You open the front door for the both of you, rolling your eyes. “He never stopped, seriously.”
The cold air hits you instantly and you’re glad Jisung gave you your gloves to wear. You scan the area around you and the only other people in sight are a group of children across the street. The ever-growing white blanket in front of your apartment complex is all yours and Jeongin’s—anything’s free game.
Unfortunately, the delicate, white crystals fluttering down around you do nothing to help the tension looming between you both. It followed you out of your apartment like a dark storm cloud, and now it’s raining on your snowy parade. You hate it. But you don’t know how to get rid of it.
“Sooo…” you start, and just as quickly trail off. “What now?”
Jeongin just shrugs, watching a snowflake fall to the ground.
You sigh, mostly to yourself. Looks like you’re going to have to take the lead. You begin to roll up a ball of snow, making it bigger and bigger in hopes of building a snowman.
The bigger and more round your snowman base gets, the more that the little rain cloud between you and Jeongin seems to shrink away. Even though you haven’t said a word to the boy and nearly forgotten he was even there, something about playing in the snow together in silence is… healing. It’s therapeutic in its own right, the soft crystals somehow bringing a feeling of warmth to your chest as you bring out your inner child.
Just as you’re finished with the top body part and you’re lifting it up ready to place, a sudden impact of cold, wet snow hits the back of your neck and begins to slither down your back. This results in you dropping the snowman’s body and you gasp as it breaks apart into heaps on the floor.
Turning around, you pout as Jeongin looks at you with a cheeky smile playing at his lips. He looks away, whistling innocently and shoving his hands into his coat pockets. Your glare hardens and you quickly pick up the precious bit of used snow, squishing it into a ball before lobbing it in Jeongin’s direction, just barely missing his left arm.
“You need to work on your aim,” Jeongin remarks cockily, and you scrabble another snowball in your hands.
Throwing the haphazardly-made snowball in his direction, his laughter fills your ears and makes the butterflies in your stomach fly. You duck as his own snowball is about to hit you, and it just skims the back of your head.
“This is war!” You glare at your best friend. “You made me mess up my snowman!”
“Why focus on your snowman when you can focus on me?” Jeongin laughs, making your heart speed up again.
You hide behind the pitiful remains of your snowman and hold your hands to your cheeks. Sure, you were in a war, but you couldn’t let him see that his words affected you. You could have blamed it on the cold, but would Jeongin really believe it?
“You can’t hide forever,” Jeongin sings, his voice getting nearer and nearer.
Keeping a watchful eye over your shoulder, you attempt to make a bunch of snowballs as you try to will the color on your cheeks away. You try to calm your breathing, suppressing any giggles that threaten to come out as you grow your small pile of ammo.
As you scramble to prepare for whenever Jeongin plans to pelt you with snowballs, all your worries seem to melt away. Adrenaline rushes through your body as you hear Jeongin’s boots crunch in the snow, but you also feel a wave of calm wash over you. It’s just you, Jeongin, and the white blanket of snow surrounding you two. Just like when you were little.
You missed this.
A small giggle escapes your lips as you peer over your shoulder one more time. Jeongin doesn’t seem to be sneaking up on you—in fact, he’s nowhere in sight. You turn around and let out a sigh of relief. You’re safe.
Until you notice Jeongin towering over you, smirking deviously.
“Did you miss me?”
You let out a squeal, backing yourself against your crumbling snowman as you frantically chuck snowballs his way. He seems to be unfazed by it, only chuckling as the snowballs split into pieces as they hit his chest, and he steps closer to you.
Soon, you’re resorting to flinging pathetic scoops of snow at him as you try to scoot back. You’re in a fit of giggles as he inches closer, your heartbeat quickening his pace as you chuck one more blob of snow to hopefully deter him.
It strikes him square in the face.
Your jaw drops in surprise, and you can only watch as Jeongin wordlessly wipes the snow off his face. You search his face for any sign of hurt, fearing you might’ve gone too far, but you only find a mischievous glint in his eye.
Oh no.
You gulp as he drops to his knees and continues to close the gap between you, his smug smile growing wider. A nervous giggle escapes your lips as you watch for his next move, and you grab another handful of snow in your mitt to get ready to fight back—then you feel his fingers at your sides.
“Jeongin, stopppp~!”
You’re unable to control your laughter as Jeongin mercilessly tickles you. Any attempts at pushing him away are quickly proved fruitless by a shove of his hand, and you’re left thrashing around helplessly as he continues to torture you.
You’ve practically been thrown into the pillow of former-snowman behind you by the time Jeongin sits back and lets you go. Gasping for air, you let out another giggle as you watch him bend over, hands on the snow by either of your sides as he catches his breath as well.
The air around you falls silent as you stare up at him. You search his face again, your chest heaving up and down. You can’t find any more signs of incoming mischief, but you find his soft gaze staring back at you, and the rosy color pricking at his cheeks. You assume his blush is from the cold, but you know yours is from otherwise.
Another few seconds pass and Jeongin still hasn’t tormented you. A smirk slowly spreads across your face as an idea sparks on your mind.
Before you can even think it through, you spring up, arms outstretched as you pounce in his direction. He has no time to react before you tackle him, fingers going to his sides as you tickle him and get your sweet revenge.
“You asshole!” You shriek in between giggles.
It’s now Jeongin’s turn to try to shove your hands away as he scoots back, an endless stream of giggles escaping his mouth as well. Hearing his laughter ring in your ears makes you laugh more in turn as you shuffle after him. You both grapple around for a moment and eventually land on the ground, you on top of Jeongin, your legs all tangled together.
You tickle him for another second when you look up and pause. It’s then that you realize just how close your faces are to each other, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe. Everything goes still for a moment as you stare at him with wide eyes. One more movement and you’d be kissing him.
You pray that Jeongin doesn’t feel your heart hammering against your ribcage as you’re pressed up against him, but you can’t help but wonder if his heart is doing backflips in his own chest.
Unable to take the thoughts swirling inside your head anymore, you roll off of him and onto your back, looking up at the sky. Tiny snowflakes fall around you in a light, gentle flow, but a steady one—it almost feels reassuring. It’s like the universe is sending you a message, in its own special way, that everything will be alright.
You take a deep breath and look over at the boy next to you. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he blinks, wide eyes gazing up at the snow. A couple snowflakes seem to fall on his face and he scrunches up his nose as he giggles. A fond smile decorates your lips as you watch him, and you feel your heart quicken its pace once again.
Another moment passes and Jeongin turns his head to you. “What's wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed slightly.
You shake your head and start moving to stand up. “It’s nothing, just…” you trail off, unsure what to say next. You hold out a hand to help him to his feet as well.
The two of you stand in silence for some time. You take a small step closer to him, and you can’t deny the way your heart swells in your chest as you take in the scene around you. The snow seems to dance around you two, swirling around gently as if the crystals are casting a gentle spotlight on you both. When your eyes land back on Jeongin, you note the snowflakes that dot his chestnut hair and perfectly complement his slightly messy curls. It’s adorably awkward, but he looks cozy, like… almost like home.
He turns his head to look at you and gives you a smile that sends warmth spreading through your whole body. There’s a gentleness to his gaze as his eyes meet yours, and the way he reaches over to move a strand of hair away from your face nearly makes you melt. A faint blush dusts his cheeks as he steps closer to you, closing the distance between you two, and you hope he doesn’t notice your already rosy cheeks glow a deeper red.
“Stay for Christmas?” he whispers.
There’s no helping the grin that grows on your face at the familiar words.
“Just come here.”
You can hear the squeals of the children across the street (and Jisung from behind you), but you feel at peace as you lean up to wrap your arms around Jeongin’s neck. A small chuckle reverberates through you as you feel him snugly hug you back, and you tuck your head in his shoulder.
You still don’t believe the snow is the seasonal deity that Jisung swears by, but something about the way it gently cascades down feels like it’s wrapping you both in a warm blanket and reassuring you that you’re okay. That you’re home. As Jeongin gently rests his head against yours and sways the two of you back and forth, you realize that this was what you were missing the whole time; not only in your old neighborhood, but during the time Jeongin was away.
Turns out the magic you always felt during this time of year wasn’t just in the snow. It wasn’t just in the whimsicality of Christmas cartoons, or your utter fascination with the holiday lights, either. It’s the feeling of comfort that comes with it, the feeling of knowing that someone who cares about you will be there to do it all with you a thousand times over. That special feeling that only Jeongin has been able to give to you all these years, even if it’s awkward at times, even if you’ve consumed one too many cups of hot chocolate for his liking… the feeling of being home.
You realize that Jeongin is more than just your best friend and your longtime crush—he’s home. And if it takes a bit of snow to realize that, that’s magic enough for you.
24...
Christmas has changed a lot since the previous year with you and Jeongin officially being back at best friend status—not that he had ever left. But just knowing he’s finally home is enough to rekindle your affinity for the holidays that you’ve been lacking for the past few years. Now it’s finally here, and the fire inside you is burning brighter than ever.
With it being a newfound tradition in the Y/Nsung household—funny enough, you actually coined the name—your apartment this year is once again the main headquarters for all things Christmas festivities. And this time, it’s on Christmas Eve. You thought it’d be fitting, considering your shared history with Jeongin over the date. Like last year, you took care to decorate the apartment to a T, pretty garlands and shades of red and green glistening all over the living area.
The party had very much been a success, with only a few disagreements (read: screaming matches) between Hyunjin and Felix about who was actually better at the chosen game, and who was, in fact, cheating. You suspected both of them cheated at some point, but decided staying silent was probably the better option.
And after a hearty meal of Chinese take-out from the 24/7 open restaurant, the three boys, minus Jeongin, called it a night and headed out for the comforts of their warm beds. You could still hear Hyunjin and Felix arguing as they left, with a sulking Seungmin behind them, grumbling something about having to listen to them all the way back to their hotel.
You close the door behind them and turn to your best friend. He’s standing rather close to you, making your heart speed up slightly. The small smile that covers his face leaves you feeling comforted, loved.
It’s crazy how much can happen in a year. The awkwardness you feared would persist after being apart for three years had melted away after Jeongin (and Jisung) surprised you with his return, after that impromptu snowball fight that set your heart alight. You two spent the following few days doing some much-need catching up, and now, you’re closer than ever. It was like he never left home. Or, rather, like you were finally home.
“I thought you would have gone with them,” you mention, your own smile playing at your lips.
Jeongin shrugs, opening his arms out wide, indicating his need for a hug. “Just wanted to spend more time with you.” You giggle, shuffling into his arms. “Without all of the yelling,” he finishes his sentence as a mumble.
“Yeah,” you sigh into his chest. “This is much nicer.”
Maybe it’s weird to say that you feel something in the air shift. Or maybe it was the way Jeongin subtly changed his grip on you, but something seems different all of a sudden.
“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out softer than you expected, but when Jeongin holds you tighter and just sighs, your suspicions become elevated.
He lets his arms fall from you and he slips one hand into your own, leading you back into your living room. An uncomfortable silence sifts between you two.
“Jeonginnie?” you finally say after another moment.
“I need to talk to you about something.” He frowns, pulling you down so you’re sitting next to him. “It’s serious.”
A frown of your own instantly takes its place on your face. Jeongin sits there, his gaze on your one hand in his lap, and he plays with your fingers in hopes of calming himself down.
“And I need to tell you because I don’t want what happened before to repeat itself.” Jeongin explains. “I don’t want to go however many years to go by again because I didn’t tell you myself.” He continues, now looking at you.
Eyebrows furrowed, you gaze at him. “Jeongin, what’s going on?”
“I… I got a job offer…”
You’re about to open your mouth and congratulate him, then he finishes his sentence, finally looking you in the eye.
“…but it’s two cities away.”
If Jeongin listened carefully enough, he could’ve heard your heart crack in your chest.
“Oh…”
He nods his head solemnly. “My parents are flying out with me tomorrow night to go check out apartments.” His gaze falls back to your hand that’s on his lap, and his voice grows softer as he continues to explain. “We’ll be back by New Year’s, but… once we settle on a place and sign the lease…”
“…You’ll be leaving again,” you quietly finish his sentence, your voice wavering at the end. He nods once more.
It’s like you were nineteen all over again, but this time, you had Jeongin in front of you—almost softening the blow. All the emotions you felt after he had left the first rush back to the surface all at once, and you nearly feel like you’re drowning.
But you stuff it all down. You shove it back in the crackling dam that is your heart, at least for the moment. You can let out your frustration with the world when Jeongin goes home. Not now.
Be strong, Y/N.
“We can still text,” you begin, your voice filled with hope—at least, you pray that’s what comes across. “And call and FaceTime.”
The sides of Jeongin’s lips turn up into a small smile. Slowly, he moves his hand so it’s wrapped in yours, entwining your fingers together and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“We will.” He looks up at you again. “I just wanted to be the one to tell you this time.”
You squeeze his hand back. Your heart races. “I appreciate that.”
A thick, heavy silence spreads across the room. You’re too focused on gazing into Jeongin’s eyes to care about the world outside of your little bubble with him. But your heart cries out, not wanting the moment to end. Not when this could be the last night you see Jeongin for a while.
You want to hold his hand and hold him in your arms and never let him go. But you know you can’t do that. Not when this job could be a big deal for him, not when it could change his whole life.
So you let the warmth from his hand seep into yours. You let your head fall onto his shoulder. You let the butterflies fly in all directions at the sight, and feeling, of his sweet gaze on you. The one you’ll miss so dearly when he’s gone.
The one you’ll cherish for as long as you can.
“YAHOOOO!!”
A loud yell echoes throughout the apartment, causing your stares to break and Jeongin to drop your hand. With the yell coming from the only other known person in the apartment, you silently think of the ways you’d hurt Jisung in his sleep tonight for ruining the moment.
Soon, a trail of slamming doors and footsteps are heard, growing in frequency and volume as they get closer and closer to the living room. Then the living room door swings open and slams against the wall, Jisung’s hand stopping it from bouncing back and hitting him in the face whilst he prances into the room with the largest gummy smile you've ever seen. His cheeks are all pink and he looks like he could burst into happy tears at any moment.
“Guess what, my babies!” he sings, maybe a little too lively, “Looks like your guardian angel came to the rescue, Jeongin’s not leaving tomorrow!”
Blinking, you sit there, your lips twisting into a confused grimace as he dramatically wipes the corners of his eyes with his sleeve. You want to wholeheartedly believe your fanatical roommate. You wish so desperately for this to just be some bad dream you’re about to wake up from. But the way your heart continues to squeeze in your chest, even as Jisung skipped into the room so cheerfully, tells you all of this is real. The idea that a last-minute Christmas miracle is about to turn things around sounds too good to be true.
You’re about to interject and beg Jisung to explain, but he beats you to it, sensing the skepticism on your and Jeongin’s faces. “Look outside!” He feverishly points to the window. “You’ll see what I mean!”
Lifting your head off Jeongin’s shoulder, you exchange confused looks with the younger boy as you both get on your feet. He leads the way to the window by your front door, blindly reaching behind him for your hand and connecting your fingers when he finds it. You notice Jisung wiggling his eyebrows at you and almost let go to make him stop, but Jeongin lightly squeezes your hand before your fingers can slip away.
Heat rises to your cheeks as you push the blinds to the side, and you hope Jeongin doesn’t glance your way and notice. Luckily, he’s too occupied with gaping at the scene outside. And so are you.
It is, in fact, snowing—and it’s snowing hard. Wind howls against your thin apartment walls as the icy flakes come pouring down, a thick, white fog blurring your view of the street below you.
“Wow…” you mumble to yourself. In the fifteen or so years since you’ve moved, you’ve never witnessed a snowfall this hard. Let alone on the first snow of winter.
“It’s snowing like this all over the country,” Jisung remarks, showing the two of you the weather report on his phone. Jeongin scrolls through the list with one finger and, to his horror, the city where his new job is located is there.
“You know what that means?” Jisung continues, a small smirk on his face. “No leaving, at least for a few days.”
You keep your gaze out the window, your spirits brightening at the news. As selfish as it was, you could barely control the surge of happiness bursting inside you at the thought of having Jeongin around for a little while longer.
Maybe a Christmas miracle is possible.
You completely miss Jeongin’s loved-up stare as you look back at him, a concerned frown on your face. “What about your flight tomorrow?”
He shrugs, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of your hand. “I’ll figure something out,” he mumbles.
He steps closer to you, and you swear you see sparkles in his eyes as he gazes into your own. You forget Jisung is there as the taller boy leans down until your noses are nearly touching. A small smile grazes his features as he whispers, a gentle but playful timbre to his voice:
“Stay for Christmas?”
“I– um– uh–” you sputter at the sudden close contact, your eyes widening in surprise. You take a second to breathe and recompose yourself before you try again, sheepishly gesturing to the window, “I don’t think you have a choice.”
You carefully watch Jeongin for his reaction. He seems to lean forward, inching his face even closer to yours, and you feel your breath get caught in your throat.
The boy squeezes your hand and leans his forehead against yours, a shameless grin on his face as he flashes you a wink.
“Fine by me.”
You pray that he can’t hear your heart pounding in your chest, or that he doesn’t mention how red your cheeks are. You note the pink tint dusting his cheeks as he steps back, in case he decides to tease you for the latter. Despite your embarrassment, the shy giggle that slips out his mouth still makes you smile.
Jisung suddenly breaks the moment with a dreamy sigh, a hand flying over his heart. “And it’s all thanks to snow!”
You roll your eyes dismissively. “How much longer are you going to keep on about this magic snow?” you ask, causing Jisung to snort.
“As long as I want, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”
You can practically hear the shit-eating grin on Jisung's face. You drop Jeongin’s hand as you snap your head to the older boy, throwing a scowl his way.
“‘Miss Tuxedo Effect?��” Jeongin questions, an eyebrow raised as he looks between the two of you.
If your cheeks weren’t already as red as a tomato, they surely are now. “Don’t ask,” you grumble, swiftly heading to the kitchen to try and evade his prying. To your disdain, he follows you like a lost puppy.
“What’s he talking about?” he asks again. When Jisung, who’s treading behind you two in amusement, goes to open his mouth, you glare him into silence.
“It’s nothing.”
That seems to shut your overly curious best friend up long enough for you to pour yourself a glass of milk. The less Jeongin knew about the tuxedo effect incident, the better. You don’t need two boys torturing you about it, especially when the first one still refuses to let it go after eight years.
You watch him in silence as your drink heats up in the microwave, his eyebrows knitted together as he tries to search your and Jisung’s faces for answers. You maintain a poker face, but of course Jisung revels in Jeongin’s nosiness.
“Jeongin, think about it,” he hums, casually taking a bite of one of Felix’s cookies. You resist the urge to slap it out of his hand.
“Don’t,” you glower at him.
“How many times has she seen guys in tuxedos?” Jisung continues, his cheeks casually puffed up with food.
“Depends,” Jeongin looks to his friend and shuffles closer to you, “are we counting movies?”
Jisung snorts, nearly spitting out a chunk of chewed-up cookie. “Don’t include movies!” He covers his mouth with one hand as he gulps the bite down. “You’ll never narrow it down if you do!”
Your jaw drops in offense as the boys fill the kitchen with giggles. “Hey!”
An embarrassed flush creeps onto your cheeks again and you turn to pull your mug out of the microwave. You take a sip of the warm milk as you stew quietly, waiting for their laughs to die down.
“Okay, okay, seriously,” Jisung pipes up after a moment, stifling another giggle. “If you just look at high school…” he glances at you, his mouth quivering into a teasing grin, “she’s only seen guys in tuxedos, like, three times.”
“It was more than three!” You exclaim defensively, placing your mug down before you list off… every single time you’ve seen a boy in a suit.
You can’t believe you’re having this conversation.
“There was junior prom,” you hold up a finger, “senior prom,” you hold up another finger. You hesitate, then add, “the one time I went to homecoming—”
“Hey, that homecoming one doesn’t count!” Jisung protests. “You volunteered for extra credit!”
You groan and throw your hands up in defeat. Okay, maybe it was only three times, but you’d rather do anything else than admit it..
“Then what else is there?!”
Jisung shoots you a challenging look, eyebrows raised as one corner of his mouth threatens to twitch into a smirk. Your exasperated look immediately drops. You know, Jisung knows… and a quick glance at Jeongin tells you he just figured it out.
“Don’t tell me it was the formal?” The taller boy watches you with wide eyes.
“Jeongin!” you whine.
He gasps, a hand slapping over his mouth as he leaps over to smother you.
“It was!”
His name escapes you once again as you use his shoulder as a way to try and shield yourself from the embarrassment—and him seeing the bright red tint currently burning your cheeks.
“You thought I was cute when I wore that oversized suit?” he chuckles, letting his arms go around you.
“Shit up,” you continue to whine.
Jeongin’s deep chuckle basically vibrates through you, it makes the butterflies in your stomach scatter. Your ear tingles when you feel his hot breath brush against it.
“If it's any consolation, you looked really good, too.”
You smack his chest and turn your head away from him in hopes of him not seeing your blush. It fails miserably.
“Oh my god, you’re blushing so hard,” Jeongin coos, using his free hand to try and get you to face him again. “Look how cute,” he hums.
With his fingers on your chin, you shut your eyes tightly. There was no way you could look him in the eye and have a rational thought. Not now, not when he was being so open and—dare you say it—flirty with you.
“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, your eyes still closed.
On the contrary, you don’t know how much more your heart can take. You don’t even have to open your eyes to know Jeongin is still smirking his ass off.
“You don’t mean that, right, Miss Tuxedo Effect?”
Your eyes snap open, your jaw tightening in an attempt to glare at him. He did not just go there. But at this point, with this new cocky attitude, why did it even surprise you he’d stoop so low?
“You—” Your mind lapses and you’re unable to finish your sentence.
Jeongin tilts his head slightly, his smile still crooked. “You?”
Maybe it’s by sheer luck on your part or utter stupidity on Jisung’s, but a small noise makes you both turn and look at the older boy, who has his phone held up at the two of you.
click.
He backs away slowly, retreating to the living room door. “You'll thank me for these later.”
Rolling your eyes, you stare at him. “Why? Because the magic snow told you so?”
Jisung gasps, pointing at you with a glare.
“It’s not magic snow, it’s fate and I’ve already proved it enough times!” He yaps on. Huffing, he crosses his arms over his chest and his eyes narrow at you. “By the way, Jeongin will have to sleep in your room.”
You freeze at his statement and feel all the color drain your face.
“Uh…” you gulp. “Why?”
“Well you see,” Jisung starts. His eyes flutter around the room, unable to stay on you. “The… the pull-out is broken!” He snaps his fingers before pointing at you. “Yeah, yeah, last time Hyunjin was here, he totally ripped it to shreds, sugarplum.”
You blink slowly. The last time Hyunjin was here was last month, and Jisung was using the pull-out last week just fine.
“It’s just so broken now,” the older boy continues on his tangent, making a tsk noise and shaking his head. “He said he’d replace it, but he hasn’t yet, so it looks like Jeongin is going to have to bunk with you.” Jisung tries to laugh as he shrugs his shoulders.
“Uh…” you repeat.
It’s not that you didn’t want to share your room, let alone your bed, with Jeongin. He’s been your best friend for fifteen years—if there’s any guy on the planet you are comfortable doing that with, it’s him. Not even Heeseung or Yeonjun reached that level with you.
But even though you and Jeongin are attached to the hip, you two were never this close. Especially not when your parents shut down every attempt to stay for Christmas growing up. Why didn’t they just let you two do it? Surely, if they did, this wouldn’t be making your palms sweat as much as they are right now.
That wasn’t the only issue now, though. Not when he could be moving away any day now, if it weren’t for the blizzard outside. Not when it took you this long to realize what you would give for him to stay.
Not stay for Christmas. Just stay.
“I can sleep on the normal couch,” Jeongin suggests, breaking your train of thought. Jisung feverishly shakes his head.
“No!” He yells, his eyes wide. “I mean, you can’t, it’s so uncomfortable, you’ll have a bad back. It’s better to share with Y/N!”
Jeongin’s cocky attitude seems to dissolve in seconds. His smirk melts into a small sheepish smile, the tips of his ears turn pink, and he can barely look you in the eye.
“Is that okay?” he asks in the smallest voice ever.
It’s now or never, Y/N.
“Sure,” you smile. “It’s fine.”
Jeongin shuffles out of the room, leaving you to glare daggers at the boy who’s gone back to nonchalantly snacking on Felix’s leftover desserts.
“You are so full of shit,” you grumble, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks again.
Jisung just gives you a tilted smile mid-munch.
“Would it help if I said the snow told me to do it?”
You slam your hand on the kitchen island, throwing your head back in despair and frustration. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“I didn’t, the snow did!” Jisung yells after you as you stomp out of the kitchen.
As Jeongin hogs the bathroom and gets ready for bed, you replay your words over and over in your head as you pace back and forth in your room, creating a small draft. ‘It’s fine’?! Are you crazy?! It’s not fine. It’s not fine at all.
Why did you agree to let Jeongin sleep just centimeters away from you? Is it too late to back out and hide in Jisung’s room for the night? If anything, Jisung deserved it for a multitude of reasons, the primary one being his ongoing snow escapades. You don’t know why you didn’t try fighting back on that earlier.
Running a hand through your hair, you heave out a sigh and flick the lights off. You pull your duvet up and shuffle under the covers, bunching the blanket around your chest and letting your arms rest on top of it. A strange feeling swirls in your stomach as you stare up the ceiling, and you truly think about what you just signed up for.
After fourteen years, you’re finally getting that Christmas sleepover you and Jeongin have been joking about since you were ten. Well… the one you’ve been joking about since you were ten. Jeongin started it, then attempted to forget it existed for a while, then he started joking along with you. However, at some point… it didn’t feel like you were joking anymore.
You don’t remember when, specifically—if there even was a specific moment. You just remember that at some point, despite years and years of endless teasing on your part, you genuinely wanted this sleepover. With all the roadblocks you two had endured during your childhood and teen years, though, you thought it’d never happen.
And now, here you are.
The soft click of the door opening causes you to look up. Light from the hallway floods into the room and Jeongin smiles warmly at you. His hair is fluffy and he still has a few drops of water on his forehead from washing his face. He smooths out his oversized black t-shirt a little as his eyes meet yours, then he looks down and dusts off his gray sweatpants. You can’t help but smile fondly at the sight.
His smile fades into something more timid as he closes the door behind him and shuffles over to the bed. Before climbing into the covers, he looks at you, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
“Is this…” he hesitates, “Are you sure this is oka—”
You chuckle, gently cutting him off. “Just get in the bed, Jeongin.”
A bittersweet feeling cascades over you as he tucks himself under the covers. It’s really happening. Your first Christmas sleepover has finally officially begun, after fourteen years of waiting. Somewhere in the back of your mind, though, you’re plagued with a brutal reminder that this could also be your last Christmas together. Ever.
You feel Jeongin move around a bit, soon settling and facing you. You shift onto your side after a moment, smiling tightly at him before letting your gaze drift out your window. Snow continues to surge down, and the wind rattles against the glass. If it weren’t for the dim glow of the streetlight outside, you wouldn’t be able to see a thing.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Jeongin mumbles after a beat. You don’t need more light to know he has a cocky grin on his face.
“I’m not even looking at you, dummy,” you scoff, pointing past his ear and out the window.
He turns his head around, following your finger. Once he lands his eyes on the window, his jaw drops slightly and nods in understanding. “I didn’t think it would snow this hard.”
His voice is soft but gentle, and it makes your heart skip a beat. You force out a chuckle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Should’ve known Jisung would’ve gone mad.”
Jeongin snorts, “He’s long gone, you know this.” He turns around again, the corners of his lips lifting up slightly. “But… at least I get to stay for Christmas.”
You can't help but smile back. “After all these years,” you muse.
“Yeah…”
A beat of silence. “Is this what you imagined it would be?” You ask, your voice quieter.
Jeongin purses his lips together, looking down for a second. “When I was ten? No.”
You both chuckle.
“I thought we’d be knocked out on the couch after eating too many cookies,” Jeongin continues before adding as an afterthought, “Well, after you ate too many cookies.”
You gasp in fake offense, lightly swatting at his chest. “Hey, you were just as bad!”
He scoffs, and another chuckle slips out. It’s like music to your ears.
Then another beat of silence.
“Was this what you imagined it would be?” He repeats your question back to you.
Your eyes meet his as you shake your head. ”No.”
It wasn’t… at least, not until you got older, but he didn’t need to know that.
Feeling some of the tension melt away, you and Jeongin continue to lie down next to each other in a comfortable silence. You aren’t sure how quickly you became accustomed to feeling his body heat seeping into you. In so little time, this image of Jeongin lying next to you, you want it burned inside your mind. The image of his hair so fluffy, you want to reach out and run your hands through it. The silhouette of him under the covers so cozy, you want to throw yourself into his arms.
How it had been a measly fifteen minutes, but this scenario with him… of you two being together… you want it forever.
“Are you okay?” Jeongin’s voice breaks the silence, as well as your train of thought.
You let out a sigh. “I… I guess.”
You can’t help but feel like this is some cruel twist of fate. That maybe the snow isn’t magical or special, but rather cruel and cunning—teasing you by giving you what you’ve always wanted, your stay for Christmas, only to rip it away from you so ruthlessly in a few days.
All of the words you want to say, that you wish you could say, becomes a bitter pill in your mouth. It leads you to wonder if it was worth spitting it all out, or if you should swallow and shove it down instead. If anything you say in this moment, if you tore your chest open and bore your heart out for Jeongin to see… would it really change anything?
You already know the answer, but it doesn’t mean you can’t try.
“I…” you start. “I don’t want you to leave.”
While you were lost in thought, Jeongin had shifted himself so he was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He exhales and you can practically see his breath in the air.
“Honestly?” he sighs. “I don’t either.”
“Then…” you hesitate. “Then can’t you just stay…” your voice shakes. “…with me?”
It feels weird not asking that he stay for Christmas, but you have that covered right now. You know it won’t last forever if you’re not careful, though, so it’s pointless to try.
So it’s not stay for Christmas, for once in your life. Just stay.
He rolls over onto his side so he’s facing you and he places his hand ever so near yours. “I wish I could. but hey, we’ll work it out.” He smiles reassuringly. “Just like you said, we can text, we can FaceTime, we can visit…”
Pushing your lips into a thin line, you nod. “R-Right. Yeah.”
Gently, he grabs your hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “We'll make it work. We’re…” He pauses. You can’t pinpoint what in his eyes changes in the dark. “We’re best friends for a reason, remember?”
You sigh. “I… I guess.”
But was there a reason? Sure, you may have asked him if he wanted to be your friend when you first moved to the neighborhood, but you didn’t plan any of this. Nine-year-old you just needed a friend to ease your mother’s worries—you had no way to know what fate had in store for you two when you did get that friend.
Now Jeongin is way more than a friend to you. More than the awkward boy in an obnoxious purple sweater you met all those years ago. He's, to keep it short, home. And you don’t know if you can handle losing your way home a third time.
Maybe the reason was simply fate, because all of this—it just kind of happened. And now you’re stuck, unsure what to do next… or maybe you do.
You hesitate for one moment, then take a deep breath.
“But it— it’s more than that.”
You stare at your entwined hands, watching how Jeongin continues to caress the back of your hand with his thumb. Swallowing your nerves, you look up to catch his eyes.
Here goes nothing.
“Jeongin, I really don’t want this to mess up what we have, but I…” you pause. “I fell for you.”
You attempt to gauge his reaction. You can’t read the look in his eyes, but somehow, it urges you to keep going.
“I’m sorry this is so sudden,” you start again, your voice shaky, “it’s just— you’re such an important part of my life, you always have been.” You feel your eyes prick with tears. “And even when you were gone, I always found myself wanting to run back to you.”
You pause again, softly biting down on your lip as you struggle to swallow down your pounding heart. You take one more deep breath.
“It’s… it’s always been you, Jeongin.” Your voice cracks, a small whimper escapes your lips. Your eyes continue to well as the floodgates open in your heart, and you look down before you completely break. “I-I can’t lose you again.”
You attempt to blink your tears away, but a few manage to slide down your cheek, seeping into your pillow. Shaking your head, your lower lip quivers, and you choke out a sob.
“Y/N…”
Jeongin slips his hand out of yours and you try your best to calm your breathing. He slowly moves his hand up, gently brushing away a few stray hairs that stick to your face, and you look up at him through glassy eyes. Your vision blurs, but you sense a feeling of longing, an almost-bittersweet swirl of warmth and affection radiating from Jeongin as he gazes down at you.
As he moves to cup your cheek, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb, the sound of your pounding heart rings in your ears. The sensation seems to fade into the background when he begins to speak.
“I fell for you, too. I… I have been for years, actually.”
Your breath hitches in your throat at his words. He smiles tenderly at you as you sniffle, wiping away another tear.
“It’s always been you, too, Y/N, and I hate that it took so long to realize it,” he breathes out after another moment. "If anyone should be apologizing here, it’s me.”
“Jeongin…” you mumble, but he shakes his head firmly.
“I never should’ve left the first time without saying goodbye.” The boy sighs, remorse pooling in his eyes as they meet yours. “It— it hurt so much to think about, but leaving you like that hurt even more.” His gaze drifts down for a moment and he slips his free hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Smiling lightly, he looks back up at you, his regrets replaced with a newfound conviction. “I’m not letting that happen again.”
A new sensation overwhelms you: one of relief, of euphoria. It fills the empty gaps in your chest, and causes the butterflies in your stomach to take flight. It’s as if you had been stranded at sea for years and finally found land, as if you had one puzzle piece left before everything seamlessly clicked into place. For the first time in years, everything feels right. Jeongin’s gaze, so sugary sweet like honey, makes you crave more.
His smile widens, causing yours to do the same. “I guess we have one more reason we have to make this work, then, right?”
A small giggle escapes you so quickly that you can’t even catch it. Jeongin catches the few tears—tears of happiness this time–that slip from your eyes, before pulling you into his embrace, fully immersing you in his warmth. You hug him back tightly, tucking your head into his shoulder and never wanting to let go.
“I love you, Jeongin,” you whisper.
You feel Jeongin press a light kiss to the top of your head. When he pulls away, he reaches a hand up, gently cradling the back of your head as he brushes his nose against your hair.
“I love you, too, Y/N.”
This image of you and Jeongin… all snuggled up, warm and safe in each other’s arms throughout the night... this feels right. This feels like home.
You’re home.
...to 25. (epilogue)
The bitter air churns around you as you step out of Jisung’s car, and you immediately regret not wearing a larger coat instead of just your cardigan. However, before you can pull it closer to you, you feel Jeongin slide his hand into yours, entwining your fingers together. Sighing contentedly, you lean into his shoulder and gaze up at him.
“You okay, there?” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “I know I look dashing, but still.”
You scoff lightly. “‘M just cold, Jeongin.”
Smiling, he turns his head to face you, his breath warm against your ear.
“Okay, but try not to fall too hard for me, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”
Rolling your eyes, you use your free hand to hit his chest. “Shut up.”
His chuckles are like heaven in your ears. You want to hear more of it, even if it’s at your own expense. And you knew he was never going to let you live “tuxedo effect” down. Just like Jisung and his “sugarplum” ordeal, this was just another nickname you’d have to put under your belt—not that you minded much, not when you got to hear Jeongin laugh in the way he does.
Your attention gets brought back to him once you feel him squeeze your hand lightly. Your eyes linger on him and shift to the subtle light shining from your front porch. You notice how stiff he’s gotten, wide eyes staring blankly at your house like a deer in headlights.
“You okay?” you ask quietly, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.
He sighs and hesitantly nods. “Just… nervous.”
You smile. Following the events from last Christmas Eve, Jeongin moved into his new apartment close to his job at the end of January. By the beginning of summer, he and Jisung helped get you a job closer to him so you could move in with your now-boyfriend.
Despite having an extra month together after Christmas, neither of you exactly… broke it to your parents that you two got together. You don’t remember if it just slipped your minds or if you two wanted to surprise them, but either way, they’ll find out in just a few moments. Given your history with the Christmas party and Christmas as a whole, you both agreed there’s no better place to break the news.
Getting up onto your tippy-toes, you place the lightest kiss onto his cheek, but pull away far too quickly in Jeongin’s opinion. “It’ll be okay.” You squeeze his hand. “I’m right next to you.”
He glances at you, a smile playing at his lips. “Always?”
You hum, nodding. “Always.” Then you give him a quick once-over and huff, a grimace twisting your mouth. “But do you really need to wear that?”
Jeongin looks down at his outfit, and his smile slowly grows more bashful as he fixes the tie of his tuxedo. Meanwhile, you’re left to painstakingly replay the events from five minutes ago in your mind.
The scene itself mirrored the one from when you were sixteen: Jisung in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat, and Jeongin trying desperately hard to get changed in the backseat, Mariah Carey taunting him from the speakers. Every now and then, Jisung tried to push his luck by jolting the car forward.
It was all way too similar, except this time, there was no sneaking Jeongin out of the house. Also, there was really no need for an emergency tux this time around. Yet, somehow, Jisung still convinced him to put it on.
“I just want to make a good impression,” you hear Jeongin squeak out a moment later. You look back at him and he’s frantically smoothing out his suit jacket, and a light pink blush dusts his cheeks and the tips of his ears. You have to restrain yourself from smothering the boy with kisses at the sight.
“Babe, you already have a good impression,” you chuckle adoringly, “you grew up here, remember?”
Your boyfriend gazes at you with wide eyes, uncertainty glazing his features. You step closer to him, taking his hand in yours again.
“It’ll be okay,” you repeat, allowing Jeongin to lace your fingers together. “And Jisung did not need to bring the suit with us.”
“But it’s an emergency tux, Y/N,” Jeongin says. “You have to keep it around you in case you need it, it’s in the name!”
“This isn’t even a fancy emergency!”
“But Jisung said it’s a romantic one! That counts!”
You let out a deep sigh, but you can’t be too mad at Jisung for trying to help. “Fine, fine.” You wait a moment then wonder aloud, “Speaking of, when do you think Jisung will get back?”
Since Jisung still lives in town, he welcomed you both back to his apartment with open arms and, in true Jisung fashion, an excessive amount of babying. He had taken the liberty of not only driving two cities away to pick you two up (he claims he came for a job interview anyway—you don’t not believe him, but you think he also just missed you two), but also dropping you both off at your house before driving off to get coffee.
Jeongin shrugs. “Who knows? He does love his coffee.”
You chuckle fondly. “He’ll catch up later.”
Pulling Jeongin by the hand, you lead the way up the pavement and to the confines of your house.
Even though it hadn’t been long since you were last here, you missed it dearly. You also missed the way your house was now adorned with Christmas lights. Every year, your dad always seemed to outdo himself with putting up better and better lights. You are sure he had been planning it since last year, that maybe he had already started on next year’s lights, too.
When you walk through your front door, you’re met with the smell of cinnamon and sugar cookies. There’s light Christmas music in the air and everyone is scattered around, laughing, drinking, and having a merry time. Your mom and dad are nowhere to be seen—you assume they’re in the kitchen somewhere, checking on guests or snacks. You figure you’ll bump into them eventually.
You find countless familiar faces in the sea of people. You see old families that have lived in the neighborhood since before you moved here, families that you have come to view as part of your own. You spot the kids you grew up with; some who are freshly-turned teenagers, and others who have since grown up and started their own lives. You even see Yeonjun, sharing a drink with his girlfriend.
While it was awkward between you at first, you both came to terms with what you had and what you were. You two loved each other, but not in the way that the other wanted or needed. He was a memory, carved into you like stone, but a cherished one that you will hold deep in your heart.
Your eyes meet and you both smile instantly at the sight of each other. His eyes glance back at the boy beside you and you can see how he laughs, his smile growing wider. His eyes meet yours again, he nods his head and you nod yours.
There’s no need for spoken words. You’re both happy, and you’re both happy the other is happy. Everything you two went through, from your journeys together to your journeys apart, has led you to this moment.
Ultimate happiness.
Jeongin pulls your attention back to him, leading you through small groups of people, and you turn back one final time to send Yeonjun a smile. When you look back around to see where Jeongin is guiding you, you see his mom sitting at the dining table, munching away on some snacks on a paper plate.
She looks up with a bright smile; you’re sure it’s where Jeongin got his from. However, her smile soon melts into confusion at Jeongin’s peculiar outfit. Rising from her seat, she pulls her son into a hug.
“Hey, sweeties,” she hums, pulling away from Jeongin after a second, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she looks down at his ‘emergency tux’. “Why are you wearing a tux? It’s just the Christmas party.”
“I told you,” you mumble from beside him.
He huffs, pulling and lossing the tie around his neck. “I just… it’s dumb.”
“No, no,” you pout. “You look great, don’t worry about it.”
Chuckling, Jeongin runs a hand through his hair, his eyes landing on you as he smiles.
“Of course you’d say that, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”
Rolling your eyes, you mutter to yourself as Mrs. Yang giggles.
“Well, for whatever reason you’re wearing it,” Mrs. Yang pinches Jeongin’s cheek causing him to attempt to pull away. “You look very handsome, honey sweet.”
“T-Thanks, Mom.”
Pulling on Jeongin’s hand, you fish into your bag, pulling out a pair of black jeans and an almost-obnoxious shade of purple sweatshirt. Dubbing them an ‘emergency change of clothes’, you now know you were right to pack them.
“You packed spare clothes?” Jeongin asks as you shove them in his hands.
Humming, you nod your head. “Of course, I knew Jisung would try and fill your head with some foolish idea.”
“It wasn’t…” You cut him off with a look. He doesn't finish his sentence.
He puts the jeans over his arm, pulling the sweatshirt out to see. You almost fail to notice the way the tips of his ears, once again, turn pink as he smiles.
“I thought you hated this color,” he laughs.
Pushing him forward and in the direction of the stairs, you concede. “Eh, it grew on me. Now please change.”
Jeongin continues to laugh as he struggles against you. “I’m going, I’m going!”
When he comes down a mere five minutes later, the now-discarded tux in his hands, you can tell he’s far more comfortable than before. He leaves it on the couch and takes his place beside you once again, slipping his hand into yours. This time, you take the initiative to thread your fingers together.
A gasp leaves Mrs. Yang’s parted lips when she notes the way her son beams down at you. A warm glow seems to encircle him, and you can almost count the specks in his sparkly eyes when you look up. There’s nothing but affection swimming in his loved-up smile—just pure endearment for you.
“Did you two?” She watches you two with wide eyes.
You and Jeongin suddenly look away from each other. Bashfully, you let your gaze fall to the floor, and you feel a tinge of red tickle your ears, but you don’t bother to let his hand go.
He doesn’t, either. He just squeezes your hand lightly as he nods, letting out a shy giggle.
Mrs. Yang gasps again, her hands flying over her mouth. Like mother, like son.
“You did!”
Without warning, she springs up from her chair. “Oh, I have to go find your father, now!” she gushes, pulling Jeongin into a bone-crushing hug. When she lets go of your startled boyfriend, she turns to you, squeezing you tight. “And your parents, too!”
You let out an embarrassed chuckle as you hug her back. When you both part, Mrs. Yang turns on her heel and scurries to the kitchen.
Jeongin snaps his head towards you as his mother’s figure disappears into the crowd. His lips twitch up to an amused grin—it only grows wider when you match his expression.
You shake your head to yourself, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. You feel Jeongin’s hand snake around your back, and you let out an exasperated sigh as he pulls you into his own hug.
“Parents, am I right?” he comments. His other arm hooks snugly around your waist, bringing you in closer. You shake your head into the crook of his neck as your own arms go around the boy.
“If that’s how your mom reacts, imagine what mine’s gonna do,” you mumble into his skin.
For better or worse, you’re quickly proven right.
“Ohhh, look how cute!”
You know exactly what happens next without even moving your head. Your mother, amidst her endless gushing about how she’s been “waiting for this day for years!”, scrambles to pull her phone out of her pocket, making a beeline straight for the camera app. Her mouth is probably gaping up and down like a fish, and she’s most definitely shuffling around the crowded space for the best angle. If your and Jeongin’s fathers were dragged along, they do nothing to stop her (not that they could to begin with, but still).
You don’t need to look up to know, and you don’t want to. You’d much rather her not see how red your face is, anyway.
“Okay, don’t move!” your mother orders. “One, two…”
“Mom!” you whine, burrowing yourself further into Jeongin’s sweater.
As your mother fulfills her need for pictures, Jeongin’s giggles ring in your ears. You try to focus on that to will your embarrassment away.
“Are you done yet, Mom?” you speak after a moment. A pout forms on your lips when she tuts.
“Uh uh, I need more!”
“You don’t have enough yet?!”
“There’s never enough photos!” A hearty, teasing laugh leaves her throat, chiming over the music for a second. “You know this, sugarplum.”
“Wait, so that’s why Jisung calls you ‘sugarplum’?!” Jeongin questions. He almost pulls back to get a better look at you, but you grip onto him tighter before he has the chance.
“Yes, and that’s my sugarplum!” Another familiar voice cries out.
Stepping back from Jeongin, you turn to see Jisung standing there with a childish frown on his face. He holds a take-out cup in one hand, and lets go of a girl’s hand to point at Jeongin with the other.
Wait… who’s the girl? You’ll have to get back to that.
“You’re her boyfriend, call her ‘baby’ or ‘boo-boo’ or something,” he adds, exaggerating his pout. “I claimed ‘sugarplum’ years ago!”
You roll your eyes. Technically, your mother claimed it first, but you know she’ll let Jisung go.
“Please don’t call me ‘boo-boo’,” you say, blankly staring up at Jeongin. Instead of responding, he reaches a hand up to pinch your cheek.
“Aww, is someone blushing?” he coos.
You push his hand away with a whine, earning a giggle from him and both of your moms. “Not you, too!”
The girl next to Jisung leans over to him and whispers something in his ear. You aren’t sure what, but the boy responds to her with an “I told youuu,” a whimsical ring to his voice.
Jeongin glances at the girl, then at you, his face twisted in bewilderment. All you can respond with is a shrug.
“Ah,” Jisung pipes up, sensing your confusion, and he gestures to the brunette next to him. “This is Lia.”
She gives you all a small wave, quickly looking down and smoothing her maroon sweater with one hand. You all exchange greetings back, and Jisung continues, a sheepish smile on his face.
“We met during college, and, uh, I ran into her at the cafe just now.” The older boy scratches at the back of his neck, and a rosy glow rises to his cheeks. “She told me she just moved here, actually, and I figured I’d show her around… make her feel at home, you know?”
A warm smile paints your lips. You think of when you first moved here, how the community welcomed you and your family with open arms. Even if your grumpy nine-year-old self didn’t appreciate it, your twenty-five-year-old self couldn’t be more grateful. “You’re gonna love it here,” you say to Lia.
Lia smiles back, and she seems to relax at your words. “Thank you.”
“Oh, aaaand,” Jisung cuts in again after a moment. He tenderly takes Lia’s hand in his, sending her a bubbly, heart-eyed grin as he swings their hands between them.
“Do you really have to open with this?” Lia says softly.
“Yes, I do!” Jisung squeaks, his voice jumping higher than normal. “They’ll get it, trust me!”
He glances hopefully at you and Jeongin, his eyes wide and bright. The two of you exchange confused looks with each other. What could he be talking about?
A second later, it clicks. Why else would Jisung be hopping up and down so eagerly, about ready to jump out of his hoodie any minute now?
“Don’t tell me you met during—” you begin.
“During the first snow!” Jisung finishes your sentence in a singsong. He tapers off with a dreamy sigh, and his eyes seem to sparkle more when they land back on an embarrassed Lia.
“He just means the second time around,” she clarifies with an awkward cough. “The first time was during spring.”
Your first instinct is to roll your eyes at your friend’s ongoing infatuation with the snow, but a fond chuckle takes its place. You had stayed up many nights talking with Jisung when you lived with him, the two of you sprawled out like starfish on your kitchen floor as you shared thoughts about the future, the simultaneous excitement and uncertainty of it all. If there was one thing Jisung was firm on, it was his hope that he’d meet The One during the first snow of winter, that the twinkling little snowflakes would be his guiding star to his person.
“Love at first snow,” was what he called it, “…you know, like you and Jeongin.” As much as you found the phrase irritating at the time, you never bothered to correct him.
But of course, it’s one thing to have hopeless romantic fantasies, and another to have them come to life. It’s kind of endearing, maybe heartwarming in a weird little-sister-figure way, to observe Jisung’s increasingly lovestruck daze as he relives the recent memory—you can practically see the hearts dancing around his head. But that’s not the point right now.
So this is the girl Jisung always texted you about during college.
You recall countless conversations about how pretty and smart and sweet she was, and even more of him blowing up your phone at three in the morning for date ideas (“the more aesthetic, the better! :D”). Even though he successfully asked her out, he still never let it go that they never saw the first snow together before they broke up.
Despite her embarrassment, Lia seems to mirror Jisung’s loved-up smile. From what he told you, they parted ways on good terms—something about both of them graduating soon and having different mindsets, he said, but they both agreed to stay friends. But something tells you that, even after all this time, they’re still on the same page about the first snow… and maybe some other matters, too.
You can see it in their eyes: the feverish look that makes their irises shimmer as they gaze at each other, the almost-overwhelming amount of affection that swims in their pupils and makes the corners of their lips twist up. You recognize it all too well—it’s the exact same way you used to look at Jeongin. Every once in a while, you still catch yourself doing it.
It’s nothing but fate, at this point, when you notice faint white pellets of snow are still hitting the window in your peripheral. An overjoyed smile of your own quickly overtakes your features, and when you look up at Jeongin, it seems like he’s thinking the same thing as you.
With an infectious giggle, Jeongin grabs your hand, but you sharply turn to Jisung and Lia before he can pull you away. Your boyfriend's small whines fall on deaf ears, and he childishly tugs at your hand as you try to get the lovebirds’ attention.
“Hey, do you wanna go see the magic snow or not?” you call out, half-teasingly and half-genuinely.
In a snap, Jisung’s lovesick daze flips into a triumphant smile as he turns to you. “So you admit it’s magic?!”
You roll your eyes, giving Jeongin’s hand a quick squeeze to calm his impatience. “I needed to get your attention somehow,” you say, “but just this once, I’ll admit it.”
The way your friend seems to light up like a Christmas tree is enough to make you give in. You do owe him for his stunt last year, after all—you’re more than happy to let him have this one.
“Now, do you want to go see the snow or not?” you ask after another moment, a small smile etched on your lips.
“Of course I want to see the snow!” Jisung chirps.
As he looks to Lia for her response, his puppy-love daze making a return, you allow yourself to take in your surroundings. The warmth teeming around you from the Christmas party is one that never gets old, no matter how many times you come, and no matter how long you’re gone. It brings a wave of peace to your heart, even as a couple of screaming children run a lap around you and your friends.
Your chipper boyfriend begins to pull you to the front door with him, making you lose your step for a second, and you find yourself meeting Yeonjun’s eyes from across the house one more time. Before you lose sight of him, you nod to the window several feet away from him, sending him a wink to him before you turn around. Even if you weren’t meant to be his love at first snow, the least you can do is make sure he got his.
By the time you look away, Jeongin has already pulled you both to the front door, Jisung and Lia already dressed and waiting for you two. Hastily, he throws on his coat before he scrambles through the pile of shoes by the doormat to find his own pair.
You’re about to do the same, then you realize…
“Right, I forgot my—”
“Your jacket?” Jisung calls out. Without another word, he digs into his backpack and tosses you the coat you left behind at his apartment earlier. You slip it on with a relieved smile, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before getting your shoes on and swinging the door open for all four of you.
Soft, puffy snowflakes dot the ground around you as you begin your stroll down the sidewalk. You hear Jisung and Lia’s musings behind you, but they fade into a quiet buzz as all the memories from your childhood flash before your eyes. The houses you pass by are ones you used to see everyday on the way home from school, and the sidewalks are ones you used to run around on during the weekends. You never would’ve thought you’d be back now, reliving it all with the people you love most.
It gets even better, though, when Jeongin nudges your shoulder, and points to a grassy area coming up ahead. You follow his finger and gasp, immediately recognizing the spot.
Reaching for his hand, you break into a sprint and pull the boy with you to the neighborhood park, the two of you almost tripping due to the slippery snow. The park is almost the exact same as it was when you first moved. Some parts had been upgraded over time, whereas others still seemed heavily used and loved by the younger children around the neighborhood.
Your eyes glaze around the small park and you could almost see a vision of nine-year-old you, standing near your mother as she pushes you to speak to the other children—to make some new friends. You could practically see nine-year-old Jeongin hanging upside-down from the monkey bars, adorned in that now less-obnoxious purple sweater.
You wonder what nine-year-old you would think if she saw where you are now, with Jeongin’s hand wrapped tightly around your own. You wonder what she’d have to say about the way your cheeks tickled pink, not only from the cold, but also from the way Jeongin’s gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, and the way his lips tugged into a soft smile whenever you looked back at him.
Tugging lightly on Jeongin’s hand, you lead the both of you over towards the monkey bars, his whines falling on deaf ears as you drop his hand from your grasp to climb up the metal bars. Once you’re sat down in the most comfortable position you can, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine, you beckon Jeongin to join you.
“Sit with me.” You smile down at him, one hand keeping you steady as the other makes grabby hands in Jeongin’s direction.
Jeongin huffs. “But it’s so cold.”
However, his words fall short when he still begrudgingly makes the small climb up. He lets his legs dangle through the holes, his knees knocking against your own lightly.
A gust of cold air causes you to shiver and as a response, you pull your coat closer to you. This seems to make Jeongin chuckle fondly, and you feel his eyes linger on you for a second before he looks out at the horizon. The falling snowflakes glisten under the remnants of the sunlight, and the holiday lights emit a breathtaking glow. You’re both still not tall enough to see much above the houses in front of you, but that’s okay—you know what lies beyond it.
“You know, I never thought we’d be back here,” you mumble. A giggle escapes you as you watch the stars slowly make their appearance above you.
Jeongin has a giggle of his own as something on the monkey bars catches his eye. “I can’t believe it’s still here,” he continues to laugh, causing you to redirect your gaze.
“What do you mean?”
He runs his fingers lightly over the faded black ink scrawled across the top of the monkey bars.
Y/N and Jeongin, 2010.
“No way,” you gasp, trying your best to lean over to see it better without falling. “I thought they replaced the park equipment years ago.”
Looking up at you, Jeongin smiles. “Obviously not all of it.”
He fishes around in his pocket for a second and before you can question anything, he pulls out a black marker pen and unclips the lid.
“What are you–”
Your sentence goes unfinished, however, when he leans over and adds a small section under his own nine-year-old handwriting.
And forevermore.
Your heartstrings are played like a violin as you watch Jeongin cap the pen back up, a pleased smile etched on his lips. When he finally comes back to reality, noticing your gaze, he shrugs.
“What?” he says. “Had to add it and make it official.”
“We’ve been official for a year, I don’t think the monkey bars would mind.”
Jeongin rolls his eyes, a chuckle escaping him. “What if some kids read it? Surely, they’ll love to know the story has a happy ending?”
If you weren’t afraid of falling, you would have jumped on him, showering his face in the most kisses possible. However, for both his and your safety, you opt for words instead.
“I love you,” you breathe, beaming at him. You’ve never said anything more true in your life.
His smile mirrors your own. “I love you too.”
You look back at the sky as Jeongin shoves his pen and hands back in his pockets, the dopey grin on your face growing wider, if that was even possible. Another giggle escapes you when you feel a drop of snow hit your nose. This is everything to you—it’s ultimate happiness.
But there’s one thing missing.
“I can’t believe I forgot,” you say, your gaze falling back down.
Raising an eyebrow, he looks at you in curiosity. “Yeah?” he responds, and you stare back with a cheeky smile.
“Stay for Christmas?”
Jeongin shakes his head, but his giggles still fill your ears, sending your heart into shockwaves of emotions, like the ripples after a stone hitting the water. The tips of his ears as well as his cheeks glow pink under the streetlight that has just flicked on. You can’t tell if it’s from the cold or from you, but you wish for it to be the latter.
“You know you don’t have to say that anymore, right?” Jeongin asks, gazing at you with a look that makes it hard to catch a breath.
“I know,” you exhale, “but it’s basically tradition now, it’s a must.”
“Well, tradition or not…” Jeongin begins. He slips his hand from out of his pocket to grab and entwine your fingers with his own. His heat seeps into you as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. “…I’m here to stay.”
He uses his other hand to tap lightly on the recently-added handwriting, his words echoing around in your ears. “Forevermore.”
Your eyes are all soft and sparkly as you smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze before letting the air around you fall silent. A contented sigh escapes your parted lips, forming a faint puff in the cold air as you watch the fluffy, white crystals above you flutter down.
Jeongin started off as a mere stranger, nothing but the awkward boy in an ugly sweater. Sixteen years later, he’s sitting with you atop the same monkey bars upon which you two met as so much more. He’s your best friend, your childhood playmate, your built-in Mario Kart partner. He’s your teenage crush, your love at first snow, your stay for Christmas—and all that only you two know it entails.
Perhaps, most important of all, Jeongin is home. And as long as you have Jeongin, you’ll always know your way back.
#straykidsland#stray kids#skz#stray kids fluff#stray kids au#stray kids written#stray kids fic#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagine#skz fic#skz scenarios#skz x reader#skz imagine#skz imagines#jeongin#yang jeongin#jeongin x reader#jeongin fluff#jeongin angst#jeongin fanfic#jeongin imagine#jeongin x y/n#skz i.n
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i have a confession
recently i had some trouble and had to delete an email
problem is, i used the google docs there to write my fics. and i thought i downloaded them all, but only one of my major ones did, and i lost everything else
literally all of it
i am anonymous because i lost my tumblr acc but on ao3 i am veetheree, and i had this longer dilemma regarding my potterlock fic (pretty disillusioned with rowling and all.that, unsure whether to continue) but even so i saw that a lot of people subscribed to it and i wanted to at least see where the story leads, i had over 300k words apart from the 40k i published
and i domt hve it anymore :') i didnt check the process because it seemed okay and i had other uni and work stuff to take care of, and now i check it and :') it's gone :')) im not doing well, and i am going to delete the fic i think
i dont have the energy to maintain it and i dont want it to be left in the dust either - i have lost all hope for it, and this is just a punch in the gut. and i was proud of the plot and how i intertwined the 2 worlds too
this is mostly just a rant because i dont really have anybody else who can relate to the pain of fic writing and the challenges that come with it
also, as to why i had to delete the email - it's complicated, hacking situation and such, but it happened over 2 months ago so im not able to retrieve it and neither do i really feel like looking into it, im done with that fic for good 😭
that's all, thank you for being a safe space for me to go to, and i apologise to anyone who was waiting for that fic to be updated :(
Hey Lovely *HUGS*
OH GOODNESS, I'm SO sorry you had a garbage time with your email, and even more so, accidentally deleted fics from your Google Drive without saving all of them. I'm TERRIFIED of losing my own fics from my G-Drive all the time (I do actually write and have about 15 "snippets" of fics on there) and back them up religiously.
That said, I can understand how life can overtake literally everything and just make being online Too Much™ – happens to me all the time 💜🖤. And I know how disheartening it can be to just... not have the motivation anymore to continue on with something, heaven knows I've done that plenty in my 40 years, LOL. And Lovely, we have to remember to do what's best for us in the long run.
When I was a teen, I wrote a fairly popular Sonic fanfic series that I never completed, literally left it on a cliffhanger. This was back before even FFNet, and fics were distributed in the Sonic fandom on our Geocities pages via Webring, LOL. After life took over, it still remains unfinished over 20 years later. I recently found the original word docs of all 9 of the stories (with the 10th one half-finished) and while I cringe at my bad writing from back then, I still love immersing myself in that world. One of these days, maybe I'll finish it, because I do think it was a great concept and intriguing storyline that dealt a lot with humanity and sentience, just obviously written by a teenager, hahaha.
The point of that anecdote? We can still love the things we wrote, and still want to engulf ourselves in that world from time to time and not feel bad about it. And if you decide to come back to it a decade from now, that's okay too. You're only human.
And never EVER hesitate to come here for a friendly eyeball to vent to. I try my best to make y'all feel not so alone. Glad to see you are okay, Vee, truly. That's what's most important.
*SNUGGLE BUGGLE HUGGLE* I hope you have a beautiful, prosperous day. And I'm sure your fic-fans understand <3
#steph replies#steph's sofa#new tag i think... i answer enough asks like this :)#chatting with lovelies#fandom life#author problems#writer problems#my advice#i am not a professional
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This is for @imakeartandaskmickeymous
DUCKTALES (2018 series) SPOILERS AHEAD JUST BE WARNED IF YOU HAVENT FINISHED THE SERIES
They asked about Misté's (my ducktales OC) lore, and im happy to explain :)
So basically my idea was after agent 22 took webby from FOWL's lab, they had just a little bit of scrooge's DNA left and decided to attempt another experiment. something backfired with her genetic coding, and now she has ✨autism✨ (because i do too, and i want to put more positive autism representation in the world). Gandra Dee (love her by the way) hated that FOWL was creating these kids just to use them, and decided to "save" her. She brought her to Gyro Gearloose's lab and left her outside the door. Gandra told the other members of FOWL that the genetic "malfunction" had caused her to die, and they believed her. Gyro didn't want to just leave her, and so he kept her and attempted to raise her. FOWL put her file with webby's and labelled it "July - FAILED". Gyro named "July" Misté, which is the Haitian-Creole word for mystery. He attempted to raise her to the best of his ability, and she idolized him her whole life. She preferred to stay in the lab, and didn't really trust people, which Gyro tried to help her through, but it didn't really work, but then one day Huey and fenton were looking for a file of Gyro's and stumbled upon misté's room. She got to know them, they became friends, and they introduced her to everyone else. Louie in particular came to see her as a younger sister, and is very protective of her. When Gyro started taking care of BOYD, Misté decided he was now her "younger" brother. she hopes to become an adventuring scientist, helping the triplets and webby on their adventured in the future using gadgets she makes.
little tidbit, for a while, she tried to come up with ideas just to get positive parental attention from gyro. He was just bad at showing it, but eventually he got better and now he isn't shy about showing his approval, especially by saying "im proud of you", which means a lot to misté
tidbit two, when misté is introduced to gandra by fenton, gandra immediately recognizes her, but keeps quiet. Eventually, on the adventure where we find out Webby is scrooge's daughter, we find out about misté's identity. Gandra feels bad, but no one holds it against her. Scrooge is happy to have TWO daughters, and webby is happy to have a sister.
Just btw this is a complete AU in my mind, and no one can stop me because it doesn't affect your precious ducktales timeline lol
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