#anyway. they’re roommates and they hate each other

[katsdynam1ght]

college AU dabihawks college AU dabihawks college AU dabihawks

(don’t zoom in it’s so blurry i cannot take a good sketchbook photo to save my LIFE)

this was my first attempt at using acrylic paint markers so it’s definitely not the best page in my sketchbook. but it exists and that’s the most important part

[shiv--roy]

I’m kind of a little bit down bad after not having sex for **** years and I was going through all of my texts with my ex situationship and it was getting me prettty prettyyyyy worked up

Until I got to the point where (and I completely forgot/mentally blocked) the fact that he very seriously tried to get me to start a podcast w him to the point where he was sending me good mic suggestions and shit

Imagine being fully unable to commit to even taking me out on an actual official date but being fully willing to start an ongoing podcast series w someone

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Never Got to Say Goodbye

ex boyfriend!eddie x reader

You see Eddie over a year after your break up and you both realize that you never stopped loving each other

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex, hurt/comfort, angst, a guy gets handsy with reader

You sit at your vanity in your room, dreading to get ready. You don’t even want to go out, but you feel like you have no choice. Your friends are trying to get you to meet someone new but how can you when you’re still not over your ex? 

You’re not even sure why you broke up anymore and you’re wondering if he feels the same. If he lies awake playing your breakup over and over, wishing that you would have just stayed together. But you suppose it was just a “right person, wrong time” sort of thing, that it was more the situation than anything that led to your relationship ending. 

You put on your makeup and get dressed as you put on the mixtape that one of your roommates had made for you. You’re dancing around as get ready, loving every song that’s been put onto it. She knows you so well, knows exactly what you like. But then you freeze when the familiar guitar riff floats through your ears. 

“I can’t dance,” you tell Eddie as he guides you around your living room. He’s trying and failing to teach you how to dance but he’s just so determined to show you how. 

“Sure you can,” he says, turning up the volume of the stereo before taking your hands in his. He steps forward and you step back as he guides you through the moves, being so gentle with you like always. “Eyes on me, okay?” 

You nod and keep your eyes on his pretty brown ones as he slowly shows you the steps. You’re not even sure how he learned this but you love seeing the fluid steps and wonder how he does it so well. There’s just so much about him that you want to know and you hope you’re together long enough to find out every single thing about him.

A knock at the door pulls you out of your flashback and you’re quick to turn off the music before hurrying to answer it. Janet is on the other side, a bright smile plastered on her face like always. You know she’s waiting on your to finish so you all can leave and you’re actually kind of pissed at her for not at least letting you finish your flashback. 

You’ve been having a lot of those lately. It’s like your brain is trying to torture you with all of the memories because it knows just how much you’ve been missing Eddie. You miss him so much that it actually hurts. It’s to the point where it’s gotten so painful to think about but you don’t want the memories to stop.

You grab your purse and follow Janet and the other girls out the door. Luckily, the club is just down the street so you don’t have to hail a cab to get there. They’re all talking about finding someone to hook up with but of course, all you’re thinking about is your ex and how much he would have hated a place like this.

Being in that close proximity to strangers-drunk strangers at that-was his worst nightmare and the loud music was so overstimulating which you totally understood. It was something that he would always push through for you because of how much you loved it and now you know you’re going to miss having him by your side, whispering silly things into your ear and staring down any man who even looked at you. 

As the four of you get in line, Violet slips some condoms into your purse that you’re sure you’re not even going to need but you let her anyway. It’s easier not to put up a fight, especially when they’re all just trying to help. 

The club is newer and allegedly very hard to get into and as you look up at the name, you notice that it sounds very familiar, something you’ve heard a billion times but you’re sure that it’s not actually what you’re thinking of. 

“Ed’s?” You ask with a laugh. “That’s the name of a bar, Eddie, not a club. And why do you want to own a club anyway? That’s not exactly your scene.” 

“For you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world before pressing a kiss to your lips. “I want you to have a place you can call your own, where you can make the decisions. You always complain about the music and the prices and now you’d be able to have whatever you want.” 

“You’re doing this for me?” You feel tears welling up in your eyes at the gesture, wondering how you got so lucky to have someone who cares that much about you. That pays that much attention and is willing to drop a bunch of money just so you could be happy. 

“I’d do anything for you, you know that,” he winks and your heart flutters. 

“Ed’s,” you nod, having a newfound love for the name. “I like it.” You lay your head on Eddie’s chest while he runs his fingers through your hair, your favorite lullaby. 

“I thought you might.” 

You’re thrown back into real life to the bouncer outside the club asking for your ID. When did you get to the front of the line? Did you really zone out of that long? 

You shake the thought away and pull your wallet out of your purse, retrieving your ID and handing it to him. Once he sees that you’re of age, he hands it back and you head inside. As you walk through the doors and take in everything, you still think about how familiar everything looks, almost as if you’ve seen it before. But it can’t be what you think it is…can it?

Your friends have separated from you yet again so you head to the bar for a much needed drink. As soon as you sit at the bar, you look around and see just how busy it is. The bartenders are working hard to stay on top of their orders and as much as you really want a drink, you’re willing to wait as long as you need to. 

You pick up the menu and look at the drinks, the deja vu coming over you again as the names all sound familiar. They’re based on metal songs, songs that you’ve heard so many times you could sing them from memory. 

They would all play so loudly in Eddie’s car as you’d drive around town, screaming the lyrics as loud as you could through giggles because you were just so happy to be around each other. 

You haven’t even been able to listen to any of them since the breakup because it just hurts too much. At first, you were only listening to them because of Eddie, but over time, you really grew to appreciate the genre and even started listening to them on your own. 

Eventually, one of the bartenders comes over to take your order and your mouth falls open as you make eye contact with him. You definitely must be hallucinating because he looks so much like Eddie. As you stare at him, taking in his features, his longer hair, his beard, and nose ring, his own eyes widen which causes you to believe that he is in fact real. 

The last you heard, he was in Chicago. What was he doing back in New York? And why hadn’t he told you? Oh, that’s right. He probably doesn’t have your number anymore and considering that you haven’t kept in contact, you don’t really deserve to know what’s going on in his life anymore. 

And that just kills you. You wonder how much about him has changed besides his appearance. He obviously still opened the club even though you aren’t together anymore. And it seems to be doing really well so you can’t help but feel your heart swell with pride. He got everything he ever wanted. And the stab to the chest is that he didn’t even need your help to do it. 

“What can I get for you?” He asks and now you don’t even want a drink. You want him to sit next to you while you tell each other everything that’s happened over the past year. You want to tell him just how much you fucking miss him. 

“Rum and Coke,” you reply and he smiles, loving to see that you’re still ordering the same drink. 

“You got it,” he nods and moves around the bar, fixing the drink. You watch him, staring at his back, wishing you could hug him from behind like you always used to do. He’d just laugh and turn around , wrapping his arms around you and giving you a squeeze. You miss everything about him, but you’re pretty sure you miss his hugs the most. They were always so tight and long, his favorite way to show you just how much he loved you. 

Loved. As in, past tense. You never stopped loving him but you’re not sure if he still loves you. Considering how he’s been treating you like every other customer, you don’t think he does. You almost want to just get up and leave but he sets your drink on the bar in front of you. 

“One rum and coke,” he says, wiping his hands off on a towel and you can’t even look him in the eye. It’s just too painful. 

Eddie can’t fucking believe that you’re here. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you since you broke up, well, more specifically, that day and how much he regrets the whole thing. It still plays in his head on a loop, torturing him. What he would give to go back in time and beg you to stay.

“So what are you saying?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Surely you’re not suggesting what he thinks you are. No way are you breaking up with him. You just can’t be. You’ve been through far too much to just give up on each other.

“I’m saying that what’s the point of even being together if we can’t be together? We’re both always busy and we see each other once every few weeks. That’s not a relationship Eddie.” He knows your right, but he’s sure that you just need to push through and you’ll get through it just like the two of you have every time you’ve had something you needed to work through.

“So you want to break up?” He almost looks like he’s going to cry and you just can’t bear to look at him if he does. You don’t need this to be any harder than it already is.

“I didn’t say that…but I don’t see any other choice.” You’re both crying now and the whole thing is just pitiful, the two of you looking at each other with tears streaming down your faces, having a conversation you never thought you would. 

“No. No, we can make this work.” He’s taking your hands in his and as much as you love that he’s fighting for you, you know you just can’t keep going like this.

“How?” You ask and he reaches up and wipes your tears, resting his hands on your cheeks. This is one thing he just can’t fix and that breaks you.

“I don’t know. I guess maybe it’s for the best,” he shrugs, finally seeing it from your perspective. He feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest and he’s not entirely sure what he should do about it. You’re always there to fix things for him and the one time he really needs you, you’re not going to be there.

“I guess so,” you sniff, the two of you now breaking into sobs, knowing that things between the two of you will never be the same. 

You moved your stuff out of his apartment that week and you both cried the whole time, the pain all consuming as he helped you pack up your stuff, being his sweet self which just added salt to the wound. You broke up with him and he still helped you move your stuff, being nothing but a gentleman about the whole thing. 

He didn’t even beg you to stay or anything like you thought he would. He just silently helped you pack stuff into boxes then put it all in the truck you rented. All he did was cry, not even uttering a single word to you as he did so. 

He hasn’t seen you since that day and he has no idea how you got even more beautiful since then. You’re wearing a pretty silver dress and the biggest standout is that you’ve cut your hair. The short style looks good on you, but Eddie thinks that everything looks good on you. 

He doesn’t know how he ever let you slip through his fingers, who he let you move your stuff out of his apartment, why he even went as far as helping you pack everything up. It was the hardest thing he ever had to do but he felt like it was the right thing for both of you. 

But now that you’re here tonight, he’s wondering if it’s fate giving him a second chance. God, if he’s offered one, he’s going to take it. Just thinking about it, he feels the weight on his chest lifting, like everything finally makes sense again. 

You’re sipping on your drink so elegantly, giggling with a man who’s now occupying the stool to the left of you. You seem to be having a good time and now you’re holding Eddie’s heart in your hand, squeezing it as you continue to giggle with the man and he can feel it, his chest aching as he watches you slip through his fingers once again. 

But as he’s turning his back to help the other customers, he sees the man’s hand sliding up your thigh and something about watching this happen is making his skin crawl. Just thinking about this guy touching you like that makes him want to break every single one of his fingers, especially because of how uncomfortable you look. 

You’re trying to scoot away but don’t have the strength, the guy grabbing hold of your arm and holding you there so you’re unable to move. Even from your profile, he can see the fear in your eyes as you try to push him off. 

 Eddie’s had enough of this and rounds the bar, grabbing hold of the guy and pulling him off the stool. As soon as he looks the guy in the eyes, seeing that he’s not even phased tells Eddie that he does this a lot and that doesn’t sit right with him. He’s seen red now as he holds the guy by his shirt and he knows he really shouldn’t but before he can stop himself, he raises his fist and punches him square in the face before letting security take care of him. 

He shakes his fist afterwards because of the tingly feeling just as you’re throwing yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as you bury your face into it. He doesn’t exactly know what’s going on, pretty sure that you’re trying to thank him, but he doesn’t need it. He did it because it was the right thing and honestly would have done it for anyone. 

You pull away and Eddie feels every part of him ache when he sees that you’re crying. He notices your face change, your eyes widen as you slip your arms from him, almost as if you think that you’ve made a mistake.  

“I’m sorry,” you tell him as you step away, quickly adjusting your dress before wiping your tears from your cheeks. There was a time where that was Eddie’s job but being chronically single since the breakup, you’ve learned to do it for yourself again 

“For what?” He asks, tilting his head to the side as he slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans to prevent from reaching out for you. 

“For hugging you,” you reply as if it’s obvious, but clearly it’s not since he’s still looking at you like a confused puppy. Has he always been this adorable? 

“Baby-” he cuts himself off, the nickname coming so naturally like it hasn't been months since he’s called you that. “You can hug me anytime you want. Especially after that.” 

“Sorry,” you shake your head. “This is just weird for me, I guess. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you here and I guess old feelings are just flooding back.” You’re chuckling awkwardly like you shouldn’t be saying it, but it’s honestly music to Eddie's ears.

Eddie’s brain short circuits as you finish speaking. Old feelings? So you don’t still love him. You don’t feel the same way as he does and that absolutely kills him. This whole thing has just become torture but he can’t get himself to walk away because he’s still wrapped around your goddamn finger. Some things just never change. 

“Well, I um-” you cut yourself off, now feeling flustered. “I should get back to my friends,” you jerk your thumb over your shoulder and Eddie couldn’t be more disappointed. He really wishes he had more time with you, realizing just how much he missed you now that you’re leaving again. If he doesn’t say something now, he’s going to be kicking himself for the rest of his life. 

“Wait,” he calls after you and you turn around, clearly caught off guard by him still having something to say. “I get off in about an hour. Do you want to…go somewhere?” 

“Eddie…” You look hesitant, almost caught off guard and now he’s trying to think of how he can backtrack since he’s clearly made you uncomfortable. 

“I just want to talk.” You think about it and Eddie can practically see the gears turning in your head. You want to, you really do, but there’s so much that you want to say that you probably shouldn’t. 

You want to tell him how much you miss him, how you miss being wrapped up in his arms, the way he’d squeeze you tight before the two of you fell asleep. You miss the humming that he did or the tv constantly playing on low volume in the background because he hates silence. 

You miss his kisses and even though it’s been over a year since your last one, you still vividly remember what his lips felt like. They were almost always chapped and he often tasted like the mint gum he chewed to cover up the tobacco for you. 

“Okay, yeah,” you nod, craving to be in his presence so badly. Being here with him now, all of that anxiety and dread you’ve been carrying around with you is gone, replaced with warmth that’s spreading throughout your body, the calm that always coursed through you when you were around him. For the first time in so long, you finally feel like you’re home. 

-

Eddie’s feeling clammy as he stands outside the club. He’s smoking a cigarette to help ease his anxiety but it’s not working. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to talk to you. Maybe because there’s so much uncertainty. There’s so much he wants to say and he’s unsure how you’re going to take it all. He wants to tell you just how much he misses you, how much he still loves you. It’s fucking breaking him being apart from you and when you left, he felt like he lost his purpose, his passion for everything gone with you in the moving truck. 

And the thing is, he doesn’t even blame you for leaving because what else were you supposed to do? That’s what happens when people break up. He just wishes he had gotten the chance to say goodbye since you made the decision to leave while he was at work. He got home and all of your stuff was gone, those cute little mugs you had collected over the years gone from the kitchen cabinet, your books that you would read to him every night before bed disappeared from his bookshelf along with everything else that you owned. 

Seeing you tonight made his feelings for you even stronger and now he can’t even fight them off like he usually does. They have to make themselves known, wanting Eddie to not deny them anymore. He guesses he can’t now and he honestly has no idea what he’s going to say to you without looking like a lovesick fool. 

So he just continues to smoke his cigarette until it’s gone, then reaches for his pack to get another one when you exit the club, giggling with your friends before saying goodbye to them and heading over to him. You’ve gotten even more beautiful since he last saw you a couple hours ago and it hurts so bad knowing that he can’t have you. After getting your closure, the two of you will go your separate ways and Eddie will go home to a bottle of tequila and put on the mixtape he made for you while he drinks until he cries himself to sleep. 

He’s pathetic and he knows it. He’s imagining you telling him that you miss him too then sharing a kiss that’s filled with fireworks. He really needs to get a grip and stop wishing for something that will never happen.

“So,” you speak up, standing there awkwardly as you fiddle with the strap of your purse in your hands. “Where are we going?” Eddie completely forgot to come up with a spot and now he’s panicking, saying the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Dina’s,” he says as he takes one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out underneath his boot. Your eyes widen at the name, memories flooding your mind of sitting in your favorite booth, the two of you giggling over pancakes and a milkshake with two straws. 

Eddie suggesting that place is like a stab to the gut, too painful to go there and try to relive the good memories of your failed relationship, but you think that maybe it won’t be too bad. 

“Dina’s, wow, I haven’t been there since-” you cut yourself off, wondering if this is even a good idea, talking things over with your ex, bringing up the past as you both mourn what could have been. You’re just not sure if you should be doing this. Maybe it’s not too late to catch a cab and go home.

“Since our anniversary,” Eddie finishes, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, seeing that you’re not wearing one, your shoulders bare, your arms wrapping tighter around your body to try and warm yourself up but it’s not working. It’s taking everything in him not to give you the jacket right off his back but he knows you won’t take it, too stubborn like always. 

“Right,” you nod, knowing that this will be nothing like that. It will just be an awkward and painful conversation that you really wished you hadn’t agreed to. You have tried so hard not to think about Eddie, pushing out every single thought you’ve had but there is always going to be little pieces of him sprinkled into your life. Whether you like it or not, there’s always going to be something that reminds you of him, taking you back to that painful place where you left him as you moved out that day. 

Eddie leads you to his van and you can’t help but feel like this is a date. You wish it was, though. Maybe you’ll be able to turn everything around and he’ll be your boyfriend again. Or your friend at the very least. 

He opens the passenger door like he always used to and helps you into the van and it’s just like old times. You look around the van as he rounds the hood and it looks exactly the same, the stickers that have been on the dash since you’ve known him are still there, even the ones you gave him. 

They’re curling up at the edges, the adhesive wearing off, but that only means that he’s loved them so much that they’ve been there a while. You run your fingers over them as Eddie gets into the driver’s seat, watching you from where he’s sitting with a smile that’s filled with admiration. 

He starts up the van and catches you singing along to the next song on the tape he’s got in. It’s the last one you made for him that he plays in a loop because apparently he loves to torture himself. It’s got his name written across it in your handwriting with sloppily drawn hearts all over it. 

He can’t keep that stupid smile off of his face and joins you, both of you laughing through your duet as if no time has passed. Things are so different now but one thing you at least know for sure is that Eddie still loves ABBA. 

You sing the rest of the song, your laughter fading away as another one starts and now it’s just awkward silence. Neither of you know what to say even though you unknowingly still love each other. If only the two of you could get over your anxiety and just say it already. 

But you can’t. You won’t. You already hurt him once and you’re not going to do it again. He’s doing so well and you’re not going to stumble into his life and claim your have feelings for him when he’s definitely over you. 

If only you could see how lovesick Eddie still is. If only you could get back all the cobwebs that have gathered in your past and see the future that’s right in front of you. Eddie is still as head over heels for you as he’s always been. He never stopped loving you even when everything went to shit. He’s tried, god, he’s tried. He’s wanted to forget you, but you’re always still there, stuck in his mind forever. 

He pulls up to the restaurant and you’re thrown back in time again, another flashback that you can’t seem to escape as much as you want to. You remember the tender touches of your hands across the table and the loving stares and now you’re just sitting across from each other like two people on a blind date. 

You hate that you still remember your exact orders even though you haven’t even thought about this place since the last time you sat in this very booth. His hand is resting on the table as he looks at the menus and god, you just want to reach for it, to know if they’re as rough as you remember. You hope he still uses that lotion you always used to buy him. 

He’s sitting there, looking so pretty with his hair tucked behind one ear, moving an unlit cigarette between his fingers that’s always been a nervous habit. You hate that he’s nervous but you completely understand why. This is uncharted territory. You’re completely different people now and this whole thing was completely unplanned. 

You mimic him and look at your own menu but you’re not even hungry. You’re actually feeling sick thinking about why you’re actually here. You’re nervous as shit to have this conversation. You just know he’s going to break your heart and you suppose you can’t even be upset with him since you deserve it for leaving him all that time ago without even so much a goodbye. But the thing is, you actually actually left because you were terrified to see the look on his face so you fled to avoid the pain of seeing how heartbroken he was. 

“So,” he says, taking a deep sigh as he sets his menu on the table, looking you in the eyes as he does so. 

“So,” you repeat in the same fashion and furrow your eyebrows when he brings his hands up to cover his face, scrubbing at his eyes. He then slaps his hands onto the table which startles you, looking at you with that fire that you’ve missed the entire night. 

“I’ve gotta be honest,” he says, his gaze still burning into yours. “I’ve missed you. Like, so much that I can’t even stand it.” He knows that it’s rushed and that he probably sounds crazy and eyes widen at his confession, he’s terrified that he’s scaring you away. God, he’s driving you away again, fucking up one more time before you leave his life for good. He just can’t seem to get it right. 

Before he can even finish his speech that he’s been writing in his head for months because in the blink of an eye, you’re sitting right next to him, a goofy but adorable grin on your face. He has no idea what’s going on but he sure as hell isn’t going to deny you being in such close proximity to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he replies, nervous all over again because even though you’re smiling at him, he can’t help but feel iscared that you’re going to slip through his fingers. “I-I don’t know why I said that. I just-”

“Eddie,” you cut him off, your hands cradling his cheeks like they used to and his eyes widen as he stares at you, wondering what you’re going to do next. 

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice small for the first time tonight. 

“Will you please just shut up?” You ask before pressing your lips to his, pouring out all of your repressed emotions for the past year pouring into it and you don’t even care that you’re crying. You just need this and apparently Eddie does too because his arms are wrapped tightly around you, his own tears trailing down his cheeks as he involuntarily whimpers against your lips. 

This is the best way he’s ever been shut up in his life and it’s crazy to him just quickly you’re both able to do this after so long, picking it up like it’s nothing. It gets progressively more hungry and as you’re sticking your tongue into his mouth, you suddenly realize where you are, deciding that you can’t exactly do what you’re doing here. So you stand from the table and offer him your hand which he gladly takes. 

You’re both out the door in a flash and as soon as you’re heading down the alley between the diner and the other building, you’re pulling Eddie into the dark, pressing yourself to the wall as your lips find his again, somehow even more hungry than before. You’re both crying again but you’re too caught up in your need for each other to be embarrassed. 

His hands are sliding up your dress as he kisses down to your, nipping at whatever skin he’s able to get his teeth on as he goes. It starts off as gentle kisses as he murmurs the words “I missed you” against your skin but it gets progressively more intense as he begins to suck on your skin, making your brain feel fuzzy. 

“I missed you too,” you moan as he pushes you gently against the wall. He’s pulling down your thong and you let him despite being so out of practice that you’ve felt so nervous about sleeping with anyone else. Being with Eddie, though, just feels so right. 

You unbutton his jeans and pull them down with his underwear, so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even notice that he’s slid himself inside you, both of you grunting at the tight fit.  

He’s moving slowly at first but progressively gets faster, missing the feeling of being inside you, missing the way you moan, the way you grab onto him, scratching up any part of him you can get your hands on, missing you. God has he missed you. It feels so right being here with you now.

He’s moving so fast, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pumps and pumps, his lips finding yours again, biting down on your bottom lip as another moan slips past your lips. It’s loud and he’s eating it up, wondering how much more he can get out of you before you’re absolutely spent. 

You’re close already but to see how long you can hold out. You’ve gone so long without him between your legs that it doesn’t take much for you to orgasm, to completely undone as he bottoms out inside you. He’s still going as you whine his name, pumping in and out, in and out until he reaches his own orgasm, moaning so loudly that you’re almost concerned that someone is going to hear him. 

The words “I love you” fall from his lips and you melt when you hear them, so happy that he still feels the same way, that the love you have for each other has never faded. You’re both smiling now as you pull him into another kiss, mumbling the words back to him against his lips. A laugh escapes his lips as he pulls away and he picks you up and spins you around. He’s the happiest he’s been in so long. 

“C’mon, angel,” he says, grabbing hold of your hand and leading you back to his van that’s around the corner. “Let’s go home.”

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 16.3k ⇢ genre: fluff, college au, brother's best friend trope, christmas/holiday themed, baseball player!jisung, rich kids!reader and chenle, part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: chenle and reader are annoying as hell together lol (they love each other but would die before saying ily), everyone’s parents suck!, only minor proof-reading bc i wanted to post for christmas, FAKE pro baseball players mentioned (idk anything abt baseball and was not going to research any real baseball players and be wrong abt them ok) ⇢ extra info: this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: ok so this one isn’t exactly “short” but as always, i got carried away. im just happy i got this one out in time and it didn’t end up being 20k+ lmao. anyway, this is my last fic of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, and of 2024, and i hope you guys had as much fun reading them as i did writing them! happy holidays and i will be back with even more fics in 2025! ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20

Clicking the ‘submit’ button for your last final paper of the semester, you let out a sigh of relief. You were done, for now. The time in the corner of your laptop read 10:58 p.m. You’d submitted with an hour to spare. Usually, you hated cutting it so close, but four of your five classes this semester had assigned fifteen-page papers, and you wanted to take your time researching, outlining, drafting, and editing all of them before the deadlines.

There were only a few other students scattered around the library so late on the last academic day of the semester. One table away from you was another student, a boy who had also been hard at work on his laptop for the greater part of the past four hours. You had seen him around campus, not in any meaningful way, but enough that his face was familiar to you. And tonight, you had been stealing glances at him—when he let out a groan or a sigh that rang a little too loud in the dead silence, pushed his hoodie off his head to reveal his dark hair and handsome features, or stood up from his chair to go to the vending machine around the corner and walk around the library to stretch his obscenely long legs. Yeah, you’d done a bit of ogling, you also needed a break every now and then.

He was still typing away at his laptop when you had packed up for the night and were heading out, your path taking you right by his table. You were never usually this bold, but maybe it was the rush from finally being done with finals week, or how late it was, but you found yourself stopping next to the end seat the cute boy was occupying.

Upon realizing that you were there, he looked at you with wide, uncertain eyes, slowly taking his headphones off. “Hm?”

“Are you going to be here till closing?” You asked him knowingly, a playful smile on your lips and bag of gummy candy in your hands. You had bought it during a vending machine break earlier in the night but never ended up opening it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m hoping only another thirty minutes…”

“Here.” You offered the candies out to him. “I’m done for the night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You set them down next to his laptop. Not wanting to take up any more of his waning time left to submit his assignment, you started off towards the exit again. “Good luck. Have a good break.”

“You too…”

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21

“You didn’t get his number?!” Your roommate gasped in horror after you told her about the cute guy from the library. She had been asleep when you got home last night, and now the two of you were packing in preparation for your respective winter break plans. Sooyoung was heading back home while you and your brother would be driving to meet your parents at your family’s winter house in the mountains.

“Or his name,” you confirmed sadly. “I mean, the poor guy only had an hour left of the semester to submit whatever he was working on, there was no way he would’ve wanted me wasting it.”

“You have got to find him when we get back.”

“I’ll try,” you agreed.

There was a long honk from outside your dorm, and you rolled your eyes before peering out your window. Sure enough, your brother’s sleek black SUV was outside.

“Alright, I’ll see you in two weeks, Soo.” You hugged your roommate goodbye. Before you could even grab your bag, there was another obnoxiously long honk, followed by a series of shorter honks.

You immediately videocalled your brother.

Chenle picked up, already complaining. “Y/N, hurry up! You always take forever—”

“Shut the fuck up!” You retorted, flipping off the camera. “You’re so fucking annoying, I swear to—”

He laid on the horn again, and you could hear complaints start up outside from other people yelling at him to shut the fuck up. Then, you swore you heard another voice in Chenle’s car, quietly suggesting that he stop, but it was too indistinct for you to properly identify.

“Who was that?” You squinted at him suspiciously.

“I told you I was bringing a friend—”

“I know, I meant which one?”

“Get your slow ass down here and find out, or we’re leaving you!” With that, he hung up.

You pocketed your phone with a quiet scream, then turned to your roommate. “Ugh! Can you believe we’re related?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately, not even looking at you.

Hauling your stuff downstairs by yourself, you were a little out of breath by the time you shoved the front door of your dorm open. Your duffel bag started slipping down your shoulder, and as you readjusted that, you weren’t even looking out for the uneven slab of concrete that you knew stuck up in front of the entrance. Your toe caught on it, and you let out an unfortunate ‘eep!’ as you tripped forward. Your bag slid off your shoulder again, catching on your elbow and swinging around, the weight making you stumble a little more. You stayed upright, and you were thankful that only your brother and his friend saw all that. Yeah, Chenle was going to tease you for the entire three-hour car ride, and Mark or whoever was coming with would definitely get in on the ribbing, but you had plenty of dirt on them too. It was the natural order of things.

“Clumsy ass,” Chenle yelled at you from the car, the driver’s side window rolled down. You flipped him off on instinct. “Jisung, go help her before she hurts herself.”

Jisung. That was a new one. Admittedly, you didn’t know all of your brother’s friends, you two ran in different circles at school. You were usually introduced them in passing if you happened to run into each other at events, or some you knew from before college, like Jeno and Jaemin, the twins who lived next door to you guys growing up, or Mark and Donghyuck, who you all went to high school with.

A car door opened and closed before a tall figure was walking around the front of the car to meet you on the sidewalk. You blinked in surprise as you recognized Chenle’s friend that was approaching you, and not because of your brother. The cute boy from the library was standing in front of you, seemingly having a similar sense of déjà vu as he froze, hand already outstretched, reaching for your duffel bag.

“Hey again,” you chuckled, putting your bag strap in his hand. “Did you get everything turned in on time?”

“Yeah, I did.” Jisung unfroze and smiled at you, and you swore the sun seemed dim in comparison. “Thanks for the candy, by the way. Completely forgot to tell you that.”

“It’s okay, you were busy.”

“I’m Jisung, by the way.”

You nodded towards your brother’s car. “I had guessed.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“I had guessed,” he quipped back.

Chenle honked again, then yelled, “Come on!”

You rolled your eyes. “Pain in the ass.”

Chenle popped the trunk for you from his seat, and Jisung put your duffel bag in among their things that were already packed, then he took your suitcase to put away as well. As you opened the passenger door, your brother immediately shook his head.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” You looked at him incredulously. “I always get shotgun!”

“And Jisung gets carsick in the backseat.” He pointed at the boy standing awkwardly behind you. “I’m not having him puke all over my car. You’ll survive the backseat for once.”

Hating his condescending tone, but with no other option, you graciously stepped aside. Jisung gave you a quiet ‘sorry, thanks’ as he opened the back door for you. After buckling yourself into the middle seat and Chenle starting his music, everyone was ready to go.

“Y/N, Jisung,” Chenle made introductions over his shoulder, jabbing his thumb between you two. “Jisung’s on the baseball team and was in my bio lab last semester. Y/N is my annoying little sister.”

You kicked the back of his seat. “By ten months. As soon as you popped out, Mom and Dad were so disappointed they immediately decided to have another kid.”

“Regret saying yes yet, Jisung?” He asked his friend smugly.

Jisung, meanwhile, had been staring straight ahead at the road, clearly feeling uncomfortable as he didn’t want to get in the middle of your typical bickering.

“Ignore him, Jisung.” You leaned forward between their seats over the center console, your tone much more friendly. “So you’re on the baseball team? Do you have an athletic scholarship or something?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he answered hurriedly. “Uhm, it’s the only way I could afford to go here. Full ride as long as I keep my grades up.”

You all did go to a rather expensive private university—your parents were alumni, they wouldn’t have sent you anywhere else, of course.

“Wow, so you must be really good, then.”

“I mean, I don’t know—”

“A full ride, I would think they only give those out to the best players, right?”

“Well—”

Chenle cut in, “You’re making him nervous, Y/N. Back up, for fuck’s sake.”

You didn’t back up. “Am I making you nervous, Jisung?”

“No, it’s fine,” he rushed to reassure you, finally turning around in his seat to face you. He let out a squeak as soon as he did, probably not anticipating that you’d be as close as you were. He sat back in his seat, propping himself up against his seatback on his forearm. “Uhm, it’s just that this is only gonna be my second season. Still a rookie, you know. I don’t think I’m that good.”

Jisung sort of reminded you of a little hamster when he was nervous like this, and your lips twitched with amusement. He really was cute.

“When’s baseball season?”

“Practice officially starts in January, first game’s in February.”

“Don’t you get cold out on the field?”

He shrugged self-consciously. “I mean, we’re moving around a lot. And we have hand warmers and stuff for when we’re on the bench.”

You kept eagerly asking him questions. “What position do you play?”

“Pitcher. I’m a switch pitcher—I can pitch left or right-handed—so they like that.”

“So it’s a surprise for the other team?”

“No, you have to declare which hand you’re going to pitch for each batter beforehand,” he admitted, then quickly tacked on, “But it still kinda throws them off!”

You hummed thoughtfully. “What about when you’re hitting the ball?”

“I could do either, but I prefer my right.”

“You’re never this interested in my friends,” Chenle interrupted accusatorily.

“Because I already know like, way too much about the twins, Hyuck, and Mark. Wish I could unlearn some of it, actually,” you snorted. “And you’ve been trying to get me into sports for our whole lives. What’s the problem?”

“Basketball,” your brother corrected you. “I’ve been trying to get you to watch basketball with me. Jisung plays baseball. Wrong sport.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m five,” you snapped, kicking his seat again.

“Stop kicking my seat like a five-year-old and I might,” he retorted.

You scowled at the back of his big head.

“I can see you pouting in the rearview mirror.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, flopping back against your seat.

“Saw that too.”

“Wasn’t trying to hide it!” You snipped back childishly. Turning your focus back to Jisung, who was looking out the passenger window, you asked, “Is he like this to you, Jisung?”

“Don’t answer that,” Chenle directed him before the other boy could open his mouth. “She’ll tire herself out.”

“Oh, you’re insufferable!” You spat. “Talking about me like I’m not even here! Or like I’m Daegal!”

“Well, Daegal is actually trained.”

“Pull the car over, I’m going to beat your ass!”

“Hey!” Surprisingly, it was the soft-spoken Jisung who raised his voice over the sounds of you two fighting, shocking both of you into silence. He continued, “Chenle, you’ve been antagonizing Y/N ever since we pulled up in front of her dorm, man. Then you act like she’s crazy for being pissed off at you. It’s honestly pissing me off.”

Chenle huffed loudly, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, before he finally said, “Fine. Sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Thanks for apologizing because Jisung told you to.” You unbuckled and scooted over to the seat behind Jisung, buckling back in and looking out the window at the scenery rushing by.

The car was silent other than Chenle’s music, which he turned up as you pulled out your phone.

[you: i found out cute library guy’s name]

[soosoo: omfg the cia has nothing on u]

[soosoo: SPILL]

[you: i didn’t stalk him, turns out he’s my brother’s friend. his name is park jisung and he’s on the baseball team]

[soosoo: your brother’s friend that you’re going to be ALL ALONE WITH in the mountains for the next TWO WEEKS???]

[you: not ALL ALONE, chenle will be there, remember?]

[soosoo: unfortunately]

[soosoo: WAIT i found him on the team’s roster online and WHEW GIRL]

[soosoo: attached image.]

It was a screenshot of Jisung’s athlete profile on the university’s sports page. The small ID photo he had on there honestly did him no justice.

[soosoo: how is ur brother always friends w the HOTTEST GUYS who ALSO PLAY SPORTS????]

[soosoo: i need him to hook me up fr]

[you: don’t tell me ur thinking abt jeno and jaemin rn]

[soosoo: always]

[you: u don’t need chenle to hook u up if u rlly want, im friends with them too??]

[soosoo: YOU WOULD????]

[you: but you’d have to pick one]

[soosoo: god i am not your strongest soldier]

[you: exactly what i thought]

At the mountain cabin, you three were the first ones there, of course. You parents wouldn’t be arriving until Christmas Eve due to their work schedules. The house was already decorated like something straight out of a Hallmark movie—lights, red and green bows, candy canes, baubles, and other decorations all throughout.

“Wow,” Jisung breathed out, stopping in the foyer and turning around, his eyes wide as he took it all in. “Your parents are really into Christmas, huh?”

“Not really.” You had also stopped to watch his slow circle of awe. “They pay somebody to set it up.”

The wonder dropped off his face and was replaced with confusion, his brow furrowing. Chenle yelled for him from further in the house, and you jerked your head for him to follow. Your brother was at the threshold of the hallway where all your rooms were located.

“Yours is there,” Chenle pointed Jisung to one end of the hallway as you slipped by him to head to the bedroom at the other end. “Y/N’s is on the other side.”

“We share a bathroom,” you called over your shoulder as you opened the door. “Don’t use all the hot water in the morning!”

“And I’m upstairs.” Your brother indicated to a small ladder between Jisung’s room and the bathroom in the middle. “I got the loft. Won it in rock-paper-scissors almost two decades ago.”

“You cheated!” You reminded him loudly from where you had started unpacking your things in your room.

“Sore loser!”

“Sore winner!”

“Anyway, holler if you need something.”

You were still unpacking when there was a soft knock at your open door. It was Jisung leaning in your doorway.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly.

“Hey.” You smiled at him brightly. “Bathroom’s the middle door. We both have doors that connect to it, so knock before we go in? Even if the light is off?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Jisung continued silently watching you unpack, then finally blurted out, “You egg him on.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Chenle.” He held his hands up in front of him defensively as you opened your mouth. “I know he started everything back in the car, but you didn’t help.”

You sat back on your feet in front of your open suitcase and dresser drawers. “Yeah, I know I’ve got a temper problem. I need to work on it.”

“I didn’t say anything in front of him because I kind of got the feeling that he was being extra mean because I was there.”

“When we’re hanging out with friends that we kinda share, like Jeno and Jaemin or whoever, it’s fine. You know, they met both of us at the same time. But I think when we’re with people that are his friends, it’s different,” you explained, gesturing to an armchair in the corner for Jisung to sit in while you talked. “We were always in the same grade and stuff, so obviously people assumed we were twins. That’s also why he really gets on the ‘little sister’ thing. When we got to college, we were both relieved to finally be different people, you know? Have different friends, different things that were ours.”

“You seem to understand him really well.”

“Known him my whole life,” you pointed out. “And just because I understand why he acts like this doesn’t mean it still doesn’t piss me the fuck off.”

“To answer your question from the car, no, he doesn’t treat me like that. He’s sarcastic, sure, but not like that.”

Zipping up your empty suitcase, you started on your duffel bag that was on your bed. “Sorry you had to deal with us like that, even more so that you had break us up. I’m sure the next two weeks were flashing before your eyes, huh?”

“Honestly, I’m just glad you didn’t actually start beating him up,” he chuckled.

“Me too, that would’ve been embarrassing.” You added, “For him. To get his ass beat in front of one of his buddies.”

He looked out the room down the hallway, checking to see if Chenle was coming, then admitted, “Don’t tell him, but I was sort of calculating how many swings to let you get in before it would look unreasonable for me to not intervene.”

“Oh really? And how many would you have ‘let me’ have?” You grinned, using finger quotes over ‘let me.’

“One good punch and a hair pull, I think.” He looked to be sizing you up, a teasing glint in his eye. “You seem like you fight dirty like that.”

“Could claim you didn’t want to hurt your friend’s little sister, let me get a few more in.” You mimicked punching and kneeing the air. “At least let me knee him in the balls.”

“I’ll consider it in the event you two do actually brawl while we’re here.”

You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about your brother up there somewhere. “Eh, we’ll make up properly soon. One thing about us, we fight a lot, but it’s never for that long.”

“Okay, now I’m worried about the next two weeks.”

You laughed, maybe a little harder than his joke warranted, but you couldn’t help it—he was cute, he was funny, and he was making your chest feel tighter and your head spin faster the longer you were around him.

“Why are you in here?” Chenle had appeared in your doorway, looking genuinely perturbed at the visage of Jisung sitting in your chair.

“Because we’re talking?” You answered for him. “Or is he only allowed to talk to you while he’s here and I have to take a vow of silence?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he snickered, walking in and flopping on your bed.

“You first.”

“You want to do lunch in town then get the tree?” He checked the time on his phone. “Mom and Dad know how much you like Christmas tree shopping so that’s the only thing not done.”

“Or is it just another responsibility to pawn off on someone?” You snorted, opening the door into the adjoining bathroom to put your toiletry bag away.

Your brother’s distant voice called after you, “Even if it is, we can still have fun!”

You took a deep breath, and came out of the bathroom with a smile on your face. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”

“Ew, stop that, it’s creepy.” Chenle threw a pillow at you.

You caught it and chucked it right back at him. “What? Smiling?”

It hit him in the face before falling to the floor. “Yeah, exactly. I’m done trying to cheer you up, keep being a little Grinch, it suits your face better.”

You climbed on the bed and grabbed a pillow to smack him with it. “Quit being fucking rude!”

He laughed and cackled, rolling away from your pillow attack until his eyes went wide with panic as he went right over the edge of the mattress and landed on the floor. It was your turn to burst into laughter at the sound he made, and when he started groaning and complaining, you knew he was fine. Jisung was also laughing from his seat.

You finally gathered yourself enough to peer over the edge of the bed, looking down at where Chenle was sprawled out dramatically like a cartoon character that had been crushed by an anvil. As soon as he looked at you, he started giggling too.

“What about this one?” Mr. Song, the elderly man who had run the Christmas tree farm in town for as long as your family had been coming for the holidays, was showing you around to the various trees they had for sale.

“Ah, too skinny.” You shook your head. “We have a lot of ornaments. And a vaulted ceiling too, so we can get a taller one.”

“Right, of course. How could I forget?” His eyes crinkled fondly as he walked you around by the elbow. “You and your brother have gotten so big, Y/N. I remember when you two were up to my knee. Always playing hide and seek in the trees.”

“We used to think you were Santa Claus,” you giggled, gesturing to his big, bushy beard. “We told everyone we knew that we got our Christmas tree from Santa every year.”

“Good to see that Chenle and your boyfriend get along so well.” He nodded to where Chenle and Jisung were throwing snowballs at each other. More accurately, Jisung was pelting them at Chenle with scary precision, and Chenle was doing his best to throw some back in between peals of laughter.

“Oh, Jisung is Chenle’s friend from school, he’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified quickly.

“My mistake.” Mr. Song patted your arm.

After circling the next one Mr. Song showed you, you were content, inspecting how dense the branches were, the height, and general shape.

“Guys!” You yelled out to get Chenle and Jisung’s attention. They ceased their (unfair) battle, meandering over to you. “What do you think?”

Chenle gave it a once-over before nodding. “Great pick as always, Y/N.”

“Is that going to fit through the front door?” Jisung asked skeptically, trying to fit his arms around it to gauge the size.

“It will,” you promised as Chenle pulled out his checkbook.

Two of Mr. Song’s grandsons brought the tree up to the cabin in their truck, and you had to open both front doors all the way for them to carry it in. They got it set up in the corner for you, and you sent them on their way with an extra cash tip.

“We’ve got to let the branches settle before we can decorate it,” you advised Jisung. “So we’ll do that tomorrow.”

“Y/N’s got a whole thing about the tree,” Chenle added from one of the couches, turning the TV on.

“Smells nice,” Jisung piped up.

“Did your family have real trees or artificial ones?” You asked, taking up the other couch.

Jisung seemed to momentarily panic about where to sit, before taking the empty space at the end of Chenle’s couch, facing you. “A fake one. It came with the lights already on. Easier for my mom to set up.”

“One or two?” Chenle asked abruptly.

“What?”

“Two!” You answered, and Chenle immediately played a movie from whatever streaming service he was scrolling through. You went to fill Jisung in, “It’s a game we like to play. One of us will assign numbers to things in our head without telling the other, and you have to reply with a number without really knowing what you’re picking.”

“I couldn’t decide which movie to watch,” Chenle added.

“So, instead of a coin flip, you used Y/N?” Jisung clarified.

“Sort of. You can do it for more than two options. Like…” You tilted your head back and forth as you tried to think of one on the spot. As soon as you had, you perked up. “One, two or three?”

“Three?”

“Hot chocolate it is.” You stood up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

Jisung turned in his seat to keep you in his eyesight. “Wait, what were the options?”

“That’s part of the fun.” You smiled. “Sometimes you never know.”

A few minutes later, you came back into the room with three mugs of hot chocolate, and handed one each to Chenle and Jisung before sitting back on your couch.

Several movies, rounds of various video games, and large pizzas later, you were beat. Standing up from your couch, you stretched and started grabbing everyone’s plates.

“I’ll get these if you guys put the food away?”

Chenle gave you a thumbs-up, his eyes locked on his phone screen.

“Night!” You tossed back over your shoulder as you traipsed out of the room.

“Night!” Your brother echoed.

“Goodnight!” Jisung replied.

As soon as you were bundled up in your blankets in your room, you videocalled Sooyoung. She picked up, the familiar scenery of her childhood bedroom in the background.

“Hey!” She beamed. “How was day one? Kill Chenle? Make any moves on cute library guy?”

“We know his name now, Soo!” You laughed.

“But a nickname is so fun and mysterious!”

“I did almost kill Chenle in the first ten minutes of the car ride,” you groaned. “Jisung surprisingly came to my defense.”

“Your brother’s friend took your side against him? Wow…”

“He’s really sweet, he’s making an effort to be my friend too.”

“Friend? Or something else?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“I don’t know, it’s been one day,” you giggled, rolling over onto your back. “Anyway, how’s your family?”

You stayed up chatting for another hour before finally going to sleep, giddy with thoughts of what could happen tomorrow.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22

In the morning, with no alarm for class to get you up, you woke up, rolled over, and went back to sleep several times. Eventually, you decided that it was time to get up, and slowly shuffled out of your room. Chenle was already up, by the stove cooking something. Jisung was nowhere in sight, probably still sleeping.

Upon hearing your footsteps, he looked over his shoulder. “Morning.”

You grunted back.

“Mom called.”

You made another noise of acknowledgment, still rubbing sleep out of your eyes as you lumbered over to your seat at the table. Your brother set a plate of pancakes down in front of you, and you squinted up at him suspiciously. Typically he would’ve made you get your own plate, or more likely, make your own food. Actually, it was kind of weird that he was up before you. He must not have gone back to sleep after talking to your mom. It wasn’t unusual for her to have called early in the morning—your parents’ work took them all around the world, and often the only free time they could find had them calling at odd hours.

“They’re not going to make it for Christmas, Y/N,” he told you softly, still standing next to your chair.

“Of course,” you scoffed, lip curling with distaste as you picked up your fork.

“They’ll be here on the 26th, and we can do everything with them then.”

“Are they staying for New Year’s?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Of course,” you repeated with more venom in your tone than before, dropping your utensil back down onto the table. “What the fuck else should we have expected? Honestly, why do they even fucking bother?”

He put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Chenle, don’t apologize for them.” You patted his hand. “It’s not your fault.” Pushing your chair back, you stood up. “I’m not hungry right now. I’m going out back.”

“I’ll save your plate.”

Shoving boots on your feet and pulling a heavier coat on, you opened the door in your bedroom that led directly out onto the back patio. It had snowed last night, so you had to shuffle through the fresh layer to get to the swing seat back here. The cold morning air bit at your nose and cheeks, and you tucked your hands into your pockets to keep them warm—you’d forgotten gloves. Sighing, you watched your breath fog up in front of your face, until your tears overtook your vision and you couldn’t see anything past them.

You pulled your knees to your chest on the porch swing, pushing your face into the thick material of your pajama pants. Why did it still hurt so bad? They did this all the fucking time.

The sound of feet crunching snow came to your ears, and you wiped at your face as you looked up at who was approaching you. It was Jisung, two steaming mugs in his gloved hands.

“Uhm, Chenle said you weren’t hungry. Does cider count?” He offered one out to you.

You chuckled, accepting it, grateful to have something warm to wrap your chilly fingers around. “No, it doesn’t. Thanks, Jisung.”

“It’s pretty out here,” he commented, looking around at the scenery. “Or not, if you want me to go back inside.”

You laughed again, gesturing to the empty half of the porch swing next to you. “You can stay.”

Jisung brushed off the snow from the rest of the porch swing before sitting down. He wedged his mug of cider between his legs and you watched him curiously as he started taking his gloves off. He offered them out to you, making you shake your head.

“I’m fine, I’ve got the cider—”

“So do I.”

“Then how about this.” You plucked one glove from him and put it on your right hand, which was holding the handle of the mug. Your left cradled the body of the mug, where all the warmth was. “Glove goes on the colder hand.”

He chuckled, slipping his remaining glove on his left, and wrapping his right hand around the mug. “Innovative.”

“Thank you.”

The smile faded as he turned more somber. “I’m sorry to hear that your parents’ plans changed.”

You took a sip of the cider, staring out at the still landscape of snow-covered trees and mountains. “Me too. You think I would be used to it by now.”

“Chenle was talking about maybe going to this ice-skating place later. If you’re feeling up to it.”

“That’s what’s nice about having him. No matter how much stupid shit we fight about, we’ve at least got each other when they do stuff like this.” You half-smiled to yourself. “You know, sometimes I think they did that on purpose. Had two kids instead of one so they wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving us alone all the time.”

The tears had come back, and you wiped at them with your bare hand, not wanting to soil Jisung’s glove that he had given you. Shaking your head at yourself, you said derisively, “I’m sure I seem pathetic to you. Rich girl crying in her family’s winter vacation home because mommy and daddy won’t make it for Christmas.”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

You turned your gaze to Jisung to find him already looking at you, so sincerely, too. Swallowing down more tears, you asked, “Why aren’t you home with your family? I’m sure you’d much rather be with them than stuck here with us.”

“My parents are divorced. Every year, my dad and his wife go on some cruise for Christmas, and my mom spends it with my stepdad’s family. They say I’m welcome there, but they’re all strangers, except my mom.” He shrugged half-heartedly, blowing across the surface of his cider. “I know it’s kinda my fault too, I’m not making an effort to get to know them or whatever. But I just… don’t want to.”

“How’d you end up coming along with Chenle then?”

“Last year I stayed at school for Winter Break. Met Chenle in the spring, and when Winter Break plans came up this year, he was appalled at the idea of me eating at the dining hall for Christmas dinner.” Jisung chuckled, and you smiled fondly, able to imagine your brother’s horrified face. “It wasn’t even an offer, he decided for me.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here instead of eating dining hall food by yourself.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry your parents suck too.”

“Shitty parents club.” He held his mug out to you.

You clinked your against it in a commiserative toast. “We need Chenle out here for our full membership.”

“Yeah, but this swing only fits two people…”

You smiled a little as you sipped your cider. “Then I guess it’s just us for right now.”

Jisung smiled back. “Guess so.”

That afternoon, as promised, you three went ice skating. The local nature reserve had a lake that always froze solid, and would rent out ice skates and sell hot chocolate and other treats to earn a little extra income—free admission if you brought your own skates. You were the first one to get your skates on, and shuffled onto the frozen lake excitedly. There were a few other people out here—couples, families, groups of friends—but the area cordoned off for ice skating was big enough that everyone had plenty of room to spread out. A wide smile immediately spread across your face. Chenle knew you well, which was a blessing and a curse. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and cheer you up.

Speaking of, your brother smoothly skated up next to you, smug look on his face. “Better?”

“With a head that big, I’d hope you’d have a good idea every so often,” you teased, lightly bopping him through his beanie.

“Ungrateful.” He snapped one of your earmuffs against your head, not hard enough to hurt.

You two had been milling back and forth waiting for Jisung, and you looked back over at the bench where you’d all been tying up your skates to find him still sitting there, fiddling with the laces.

Chenle followed your gaze. “What is he doing? He had them tied when I got up, I thought he was right behind me.”

You shrugged, exiting the ice to stop in front of Jisung on the bench. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just—” Jisung swallowed, squinting and scrunching up his nose nervously. “I’ve only been ice skating once, and I was a kid, so…”

“You don’t know how,” you finished.

“I mean—Yes.”

“Come on.” You offered out your arm out to him.

He waved his hands as he refused. “I’m going to do something stupid like fall and end up breaking your arm or—”

“No, it’ll be fine,” you assured him. “Seriously, I did ice skating lessons as a kid.”

“You did?”

“You’re in good hands, I promise.”

Jisung grabbed your arm, and using both you and the bench as leverage, stood up. He looked around warily as you patted his back.

“There you go, you got it. Now, you get to walk until you get to the ice.” As you coached him through the basics of operating his skates, you slowly guided him closer to the edge of the ice. You stepped onto the ice first, keeping a hold on both of his gloved hands for him to cautiously join you, one foot at a time.

“You didn’t think to tell us you’ve never skated?” Chenle questioned dryly as he joined you two.

“I have!” Jisung defended himself. “Once…”

“Well Y/N can teach you,” he offered you up. “She used to do lessons, till she got kicked out.”

“Wait, for what?”

You rolled your eyes at your brother just having to bring that up. Nudging Jisung forward to start moving his legs, you began relaying the story, “I called my coach a bitch to her face and refused to apologize.”

“Just because or…?”

“First of all, I was seven, so impulse control wasn’t even in my vocabulary. Second of all, she called another little girl in the class fat to her face! She had just gotten a new competition dress, it was this really pretty purple one with sparkles and stuff all over it, and the teacher told her she shouldn’t wear it because something about the pattern made her look bigger or something ridiculous. A seven-year-old! She’s just lucky she didn’t get an ice skate to the face!” Your rant picked up steam and volume as you continued, feeling freshly pissed off as you recalled the incident.

Jisung frowned, looking troubled as well. “That’s awful.”

“I know! Honestly, I’m glad I got kicked out. I hated that woman.” You pulled him away from a divot in the ice. “Watch out. Don’t want your blade getting caught in that.”

“Thanks. You seem to have retained a lot.”

“I didn’t get very far before I was booted,” you scoffed. “But I guess we still went to rinks and out here pretty frequently, so I haven’t lost the basics, at least.”

“So are we decorating the tree later?”

“Yep, should take the rest of the day.”

“Seriously?”

“We’ve got a lot of ornaments.” You snickered at his wide eyes, looking to your other side where Chenle had been skating for confirmation. Instead, your brother had disappeared. Confused, you scanned the figures on the ice, finally spotting him far ahead of you, skating backwards at an impressive speed. “He left us.”

Jisung finally detached his eyes from where they’d been glued on his feet, chuckling when he saw Chenle as well. “He’s not very patient, is he?”

“Not a virtue he was born with, no.” You turned your attention back to Jisung. “Think you’re getting the hang of it?”

His grip tightened on your arm. “If I say yes, are you going to let go of me?”

“No,” you laughed. “Not until you’re ready.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“But let’s try this.” You moved to hold both his hands, skating backwards in front of him. “Okay?”

“You can’t see behind you,” he said, nervously glancing between your face and over your shoulder.

You checked over your shoulder. It was clear, and you redirected your path to make sure you weren’t heading directly at the next closest people. “I’ve got it.”

“I feel like I’m leaning forward too much, how do I—Wah!” The distinct clank of Jisung’s skates hitting each other rang out, and he fell forward.

Not wanting him to faceplant into your skates or the ice, you braked and tensed your arms to try to keep him up. However, since you had braked and he obviously did not, his forward momentum sent him catapulting directly into you. His arms wrapped around your waist as his legs scrambled against the ice trying to find his footing again. You readjusted your hold on him to clutch him under the arms in an attempt to keep him up, but with all the layers that you were bundled up in and the slippery ice, it was a losing battle. You were a good skater, but you couldn’t haul him back to his feet like this. So you decided to just let the two of you slowly descend, squatting down until you could plant your butt on the ice and kick your feet out on either side of Jisung, careful not to hit him with your blades.

“You alright?” You asked him, pulling his beanie back from where it was entirely obscuring his eyes.

“Please tell me I’m dead,” he groaned, the half of his face that you could see was completely pink and his eyes were squeezed shut. His head was pressed against your middle as he was still clinging onto you.

“No, you survived that,” you laughed. “And so did I. No broken arms or other bones.”

“Will you kill me anyway?”

A spray of ice showered both of you as Chenle stopped next to you guys, proceeding to double over with laughter. “Clumsy ass.”

“Nice, thank you,” you scoffed, wiping off the cold ice from your face, then a couple drops that had gotten on Jisung’s cheek. “Anytime you’d like to quit being an asshole and help us up.”

“I don’t know, you two look pretty cozy to me.”

Jisung somehow turned even redder, squirming in your grasp. “Y/N, I’m sorry!”

“Chenle, shut up!” You scolded your brother. “You’re making Jisung freak out and he’s going to hurt himself!”

“You make him sound like a scared prey animal,” he snickered. Letting out a sigh, he patted his friend’s back. “Alright, Jisung, come on.”

With Chenle’s assistance, Jisung got to his feet, and you were then able to stand back up on your own. Brushing snow off your legs, you shivered, and saw that the entire front of Jisung’s pants were soaked through thanks to the ice, and you could feel that the back of your own had suffered a similar fate.

“I think that’s enough ice skating for today,” you declared. “My ass is quite literally going to freeze off if we stay out here any longer.”

Jisung nodded quickly from where he was clinging onto Chenle to stay upright now. “I’m skated out.”

“Good thing my car has heated seats then,” Chenle said, beginning to drag his friend back towards the exit.

After a hot shower and in a fresh change of warm pajamas, you were in front of the Christmas tree with all of the boxes of decorations for it. You had already wound the lights around it when Jisung joined you in the living room, hair still damp from his shower—he’d given you first shower out of guilt.

“Hey, you know where Chenle is?” You asked, flipping open boxes of ornaments. Chenle’s loft bedroom had a private bathroom, so you figured he’d be out by now.

“He got a call—Mark, I think,” Jisung informed you.

“Oh, that’ll take an hour,” you snorted. “You can help me. Put any ornaments that have Chenle’s name on them aside, he gets to put those up whenever he’s done.”

“Any ornaments with your name are yours to put up?” He guessed, reaching into a box and pulling out an ornament in the shape of a bear with a Santa hat on. The white band of the hat had ‘Chenle’ written in cursive.

“Yep. Everything else is fair game for you. Quick tip, any bear ornaments will be Chenle’s. That’s his parent-assigned motif.”

“Got it. And what’s yours?”

You held up the honeybee ornament that you’d just fished out, letting it dangle and twist in the air, the yellow gems catching the light. “Bees. They had a theme, kind of.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” He reached up to hang a blue and gold ornament on a higher branch, though you could feel his eyes on you as you put your own up on a middle branch. Finally, he blurted out, “Are you sure you didn’t get hurt earlier?”

“Yeah, Jisung, I’m okay,” you chuckled. “Really, we were both wearing so many layers we were practically bubblewrapped.”

He visibly relaxed. “Okay, good.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. But I crashed into you, not the other way around.”

“True, but you had a much less graceful descent.”

He visibly grimaced, a bashful smile on his face. “Mm-hm. Thank you for bringing that up again.”

“Pretty sure you brought it up again,” you teased, nudging his arm with yours as you reached in front of him to hang an ornament.

“And I would love to change the topic now.” He grabbed an ornament in the shape of a snowman.

“What’s your major?” You decided to save him this time. “You and Chenle had bio lab together, but I know he took bio for non-majors, so you’re not a STEM major either…”

Jisung made a buzzer noise, and you blinked at him in surprise. He cracked a grin as he said, “Cybersecurity.”

“Ah, so you’re a baseball jock and a little computer geek…” You nodded slowly, grabbing another ornament. “The duality of man, truly.”

“Geek?” He repeated incredulously.

“What? I think it’s cute.” You giggled and put up the glass snowflake in your hand. Then, you turned back to him hopefully. “Ooh, actually, my laptop gets possessed sometimes ever since Chenle clicked on one of those sketchy porn pop-up ads when we were fourteen. You don’t think you would be able to take a look at it sometime, would you?”

Jisung visibly sustained whiplash at your words, his head jerking back and eyes going wide before he furrowed his brows. “Wait, what? How old is your laptop? He did what to it? What do you mean it gets possessed? What exactly does it do?”

“Uhm… it’d probably be easier to show you.”

“Y/N, this thing is old enough to drive.”

You put your hands on either side of your laptop’s screen as if you were covering its ears, giving Jisung a stern look. “Sh! You’re going to hurt her feelings!”

He continued to look at you over his glasses, entirely unamused. This was the first time you’d seen him wear them—even in the library, he’d had contacts in. Now, with him wearing his casual clothes, glasses, sitting on your bed and attempting to fix your laptop, you felt like you were going to lose it, truly. Especially when you’d catch a whiff of his shampoo, and you’d have to stop yourself from leaning in to follow the smell of cinnamon.

“Seriously, why do you still have it? Chenle has the newest Macbook,” he asked, fingers flitting across the keyboard.

“Because it works fine!” You insisted, removing your hands. “I get the internal stuff cleaned out regularly, and make sure all the software is updated and everything.”

“It still gets software updates?”

“It just… gets possessed every so often.”

“I wouldn’t call the occasional possession ‘working fine.’”

“When it’s not possessed, it works great! And it doesn’t even happen that much, only like, once a month.”

“Once a month since you were fourteen?” He squinted at you in disbelief where you were sitting on the opposite side of the laptop screen. “And you kept the damn thing?”

“No, once a month now,” you clarified. “It happened the first time when Chenle clicked on that porn ad, then maybe once a year for a few years after, and slowly started happening more and more often.”

“And he was watching porn on your computer because…?”

“So it wouldn’t be on his internet history.”

He snorted. “Of course. I should’ve realized.”

“Can I watch?”

“Oh, uhm, sure?” He readjusted to make room to his left side on the mattress, angling the laptop that way as well.

You shuffled around to the other side of the computer, dropping to lay down on your front, propping your chin up with your elbows to observe. Tilting your head, you rested it against Jisung’s knee that was next to you. His hands froze over the keys, and you lifted your head back up, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Sorry—Is this okay?”

“Y-Yeah, you’re fine.” He nodded quickly and pushed his glasses up as he returned his attention to the screen.

Leaning your head back against his knee, you settled in to watch him work on your laptop. You couldn’t follow what exactly he was doing to the computer, opening and closing different windows, folders, and applications. You zoned out, watching his hands and fingers deftly move over the keys instead. He was muttering to himself under his breath, his low voice pleasant to listen to even if you couldn’t make out the words he was saying. This close to him, you could smell the cinnamon better, and were starting to think that maybe it was actually a body wash or cologne.

“Y/N?” He said your name, making you snap out of a daze as you realized he was calling for you. “Hello?”

“Hm?” You perked up a little.

“We need to do an exorcism.”

That woke you all the way back up. “Wait, what?”

“Complete reset. Wipe everything and redownload the OS.”

“But I have everything on there!” You pleaded, stretching your hands over the keyboard to prevent him from doing anything else. “We’ve been through so much together! You can’t kill her!”

He sighed regretfully. “Is there an electronics store or something around here? We can get an external hard drive to back up all your personal stuff.”

“There’s a mall like an hour away. Chenle and I need to go gift shopping anyway so we can go tomorrow!”

“Why did I hear my name?” Chenle’s voice came from further down the hallway. He must have finished his call with Mark. Your brother poked his head into your room, briefly pausing when he saw you and Jisung. “I thought you guys were decorating the tree…?”

“Remember how you downloaded a virus trying to watch porn on my computer in high school? Jisung is fixing it for me,” you said pointedly, never missing an opportunity to bring that moment up. “But we need to buy something. I was telling him you and I need to go gift shopping anyway, so we can all go to that mall tomorrow.”

“Please tell me the thing you’re buying is a new laptop.”

“Never! She’s going to outlive you if I have anything to do with it!”

“Based off the fact that it sounds like a jet engine taking off right now, I’m pretty sure that was a threat on my life.”

MONDAY, DECEMBER 23

“Okay, so you’ll need at least this much storage for the files that you have right now,” Jisung explained, motioning to a few different options of hard drives that the electronics store had. He then gestured to a few more. “But if you really want to have her until Chenle’s dead, you might want to consider some more storage.”

You grinned, bumping his shoulder affectionately. “You said ‘her.’”

He covered his mouth as he let out a sputtering laugh, his cheeks turning pink. “Oh God—I didn’t even realize. That’s—Ah, you’re rubbing off on me.”

“I like that one,” you declared, pointing to one hard drive that was a similar colorway to the laptop case you had.

“Yeah, that’s more than enough storage.”

After purchasing your hard drive, you and Jisung headed out of the electronics store together. Chenle had already gone off to gift shop on his own so you and Jisung couldn’t see what he bought you.

You turned to Jisung. “Want to help me shop for Chenle?”

“Sure.”

The two of you meandered around the mall, popping into stores that seemed promising from the outside. As you passed by a jewelry display in a window, you tapped on the glass in front of a pair of earrings.

“Those are cute,” you commented, slowing down but not stopping entirely.

“You think so?” Jisung questioned, looking at them over your shoulder as you kept walking.

“Mhm.” You nodded, then clicked your tongue. “I’d get them, but I already have a pair like them.”

“You do?”

“Yep.” Keeping your gaze on the passing storefronts, you said levelly, “I don’t want to assume anything about what you think of me, Jisung, but I want you to know that I don’t expect a present from you. We only properly met two days ago.”

“Yeah, that’s… really reasonable,” he chuckled, the relief evident in his voice.

“Seriously, if you fix my computer, that’ll be the best Christmas present I get this year, hands-down. I don’t care what expensive crap my parents get me or surprisingly thoughtful, niche thing Chenle somehow manages to find.”

“I didn’t realize how much my computer exorcism skills were worth.”

“To me, they’re priceless,” you assured him. “I wish I had something to offer in return.”

“Hey, you already taught me how to skate,” he insisted, nudging your arm.

You tilted your head side-to-side contemplatively. “One could argue whether I was successful at that…”

“Completely my fault that the lesson got cut short, not yours.”

“Alright, alright. I suppose a computer exorcism can be our quid pro quo for ten minutes of ice-skating lessons.”

“I didn’t pay much attention in my high school history class when Mr. Yoo was talking about the bartering system, but I���m pretty sure those two things are equivalent, yeah.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut as you started to go a little light-headed from how hard you were laughing. You were still walking forward alongside Jisung, and felt him grab your arm and tug you towards him at the same time he warned, “Watch out.”

You couldn’t see whatever you must’ve almost walked into as you were still trying to sober up from your chuckle fest, covering your face as more giggles bubbled up every time you tried to close your mouth. Jisung kept you right next to him, guiding you through the mall crowd with a gentle but steadfast grasp on your arm, not letting you bump into anybody or trip over anything.

“Are you really still laughing?” He asked, and though his words were exasperated, his tone was overly fond, letting out a soft laugh of his own at the end. “I don’t think it was that funny…”

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, shook his hand off you, and suppressed your giggles to say, “Fine. I don’t think you’re funny at all and I hate you, actually.”

Jisung’s mouth parted as he stared at you in shock, and you couldn’t keep the bit going for very long when faced with his adorable look of being totally caught off-guard and floored, even if both of you knew it was all a joke. You grabbed his arm this time, your laughs getting muffled in his sweater as you buried your face in his shoulder and leaned against him for support.

“Oh my god, you looked like I ran over your dog or something!” You gasped for air between guffaws, apologetically rubbing his arm.

“You’re…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh instead, reaching for your purse that was on your arm and now awkwardly crushed between you two with you holding his arm. “Here, I’ll take that.”

He had already been carrying your shopping bags that you’d been acquiring from the various stores, and you now stopped to wordlessly shimmy off your purse for him to shoulder on his opposite side from you. You reattached yourself to his arm that you had been holding, and though his cheeks were turning pink, he had a small smile on his face as he looked down at his phone to check the time.

“Did your family assign you an animal too?” You asked him, your eyes getting caught on a kiosk of Christmas ornaments as you continued your journey through the mall.

“What?”

“Like how my parents decided when we were born that Chenle’s a bear and I’m a honeybee,” you explained, quickly looking back over to Jisung. “Did you ever have an animal or something that was like yours?”

He scrunched his nose as he thought, then shook his head. “No, not that I can remember. I always had a bunch of different stuffed animals.”

“I think you look like a hamster,” you informed him. “Especially when you do that with your nose.”

“Do what with my nose?” He questioned, his nose unintentionally twitching and scrunching up again as his eyes flitted around nervously.

You giggled, squeezing his arm tighter as you couldn’t help but coo over how cute he was. “That!”

He covered his nose with his hand, and though it obstructed half his face, you could tell he was pouting behind it.

“I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious, I’m sorry!” You apologized, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it away from his face. “I think it’s really cute!”

He stubbornly kept his nose concealed. “You still haven’t told me what it is…”

“You just scrunch up your nose sometimes, like this—” You imitated it, doing your best not to make it look like you were mocking him. “Seriously, it’s adorable! Please don’t ever stop, I might die!”

Jisung’s eyes crinkled and he dropped his hand back down as he chuckled. “Well we can’t have that.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand then, and you saw that it was your brother calling. “Mm, hold on, it’s Chenle.”

“Hey, where are you guys?” Chenle asked on the other end.

“We’re still on the first floor,” you told him. “By the pretzel stand. Where are you?”

“What have you two been doing? I’m on the third floor; I’ve been through the whole mall already. I’m done,” he scoffed. “Stay there, I’ll come to you.”

“I had to get my hard drive first, remember? You got a head start.”

“Anyway, are you done?”

“No, I have a couple more people to find gifts for.”

“Alright, hold on, I see you.”

You craned your neck looking for Chenle, still with your phone to your ear. “Damn bitch, how many old ladies did you take out on your way here?”

“Only two,” Chenle’s voice came through your phone and from directly beside you at the same time. He was loaded up with shopping bags on both arms.

You jumped out of your skin before rolling your eyes and hanging up the call. “Did you see a place that sold bath bombs and stuff?”

“Yeah, second floor, directly to the left off the escalator.”

“That’s my next stop, SooSoo loves that stuff,” you declared.

“There’s a baseball specialty shop on the third floor,” Chenle stated, eyes lingering on where you were still holding onto his friend’s arm. “If you want to go check it out, Jisung?”

You perked up, giving him an enthusiastic smile. “That sounds awesome! You totally should.”

Jisung turned to Chenle and nodded. “Yeah, sounds cool. Let’s do it.”

“I’ve still got a couple people on my list, so I’ll call you guys when I’m done so we can meet up and go,” you said, reaching for your purse that was still on Jisung’s shoulder. He handed it back to you, and you hurried off to take care of your final errands.

Back at the house, you watched on with bated breath as Jisung performed his laptop exorcism. The screen turned on, which already was good news. After a few more progress bars, you eventually saw your homescreen and looked at him with guarded hope.

“I still need to transfer your personal files back over. And you won’t know if it worked unless it just never gets possessed again, but…” Jisung gestured to your laptop with a certain finality.

“Ahh, thank you! Thank you!” You cheered, hugging him.

“O-Oh, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, hesitantly hugging you back.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24

Christmas Eve was ushered in with a fresh snowfall overnight, and maybe the Christmas spirit finally possessed you, because all three of you were outside playing in it like little kids. A rather lumpy snowman had already been built and decorated with various rocks, sticks, and kitchen utensils. Snow angels were scattered around, and Chenle had just thrown the very first snowball, hitting Jisung squarely in the back of the head.

You laughed incredulously as the pitcher turned around and calmly started packing snow between his hands.

“Are you stupid?” You snickered at your brother, who was also preparing another snowball.

Before he could finish readying that one, Jisung wound up and launched his snowball, nailing Chenle in the face. You weren’t even focused on your brother as he desperately wiped the snow off his face with both hands, however, your eyes still watching Jisung, who was chuckling to himself. You’d been too preoccupied at the Christmas tree farm to really watch any of their snowfall fight that had happened there, and obviously hadn’t gone to any of Jisung’s games before, so this was the first time you’d seen him really use any of his pitcher skills. While it wasn’t a proper pitch, the practiced ease and skill that he clearly possessed even in doing something as silly as throwing a snowball was admittedly really attractive.

Chenle had taken his loss and grabbed a stick to start writing something in the snow, a good distance away from where you and Jisung were, his back to the two of you.

Stepping deliberately closer to Jisung, you said, “That was really cool, Jisung.”

He fidgeted with making sure his beanie was down over his ears. “Ah, I mean, it wasn’t a real pitch or anything—”

“Then can you teach me how to pitch for real?” You requested sweetly. “I’m very into baseball these days.”

“Uhm, y-yeah,” he agreed, clearing his throat and nodding. He stooped down to pack more snow between his hands into a round sphere, then held it out for you. “Here, that should be the right size.”

You graciously accepted it, then looked at him expectantly.

“Do you prefer to throw with your left or your right?” He asked.

You held up your dominant hand holding the snowball, and he nodded.

“Okay, uhm, you should stand with your feet like this.” He demonstrated the correct positioning himself, and you copied.

Jisung went through the basic steps with you, making minor adjustments here and there, and you were actually finding it sort of interesting, outside of the cute boy teaching you something he was passionate about. Learning a new skill or something to that effect. When he was showing you how to actually move your arm when throwing, you were genuinely trying to do it per his verbal instructions, but apparently there was still something wrong with the way you were doing it. And so he walked behind you, covering your gloves hand with his. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, and his other hand grabbed your opposite shoulder to correct your posture as he manually moved your arm through the correct motion. Slow at first, talking through it.

“Feel how it’s different than what you were doing?” He asked, doing it again, a little faster this time.

But you were long gone, your brain white noise and your vision blurring a little bit (but that was mostly due to the cold wind hitting your eyes). He still smelled like cinnamon, and you wanted to listen to his voice all day. Jisung could read you a car manufacturer’s manual for all you cared.

“Mm, mhm,” you agreed absentmindedly.

“Alright, I’m going to step back and let you throw your first pitch.” He patted your shoulder and did just that, leaving you feeling even colder.

You momentarily panicked as you grappled in your short-term memory for anything that he had just been saying. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, deciding that you would probably suck anyway, and to just fucking do it. Trusting your gut and muscle memory of what Jisung had just been walking you through, you did your damndest to throw that snowball in something akin to a pitch.

Amazingly, the snowball actually hit the trunk of the tree that you had been aiming for, and you stared at it in disbelief, hands hanging down by your side. Jisung clapped, the sound dampened by his gloves, but his cheers were surprisingly upbeat for how soft-spoken of a guy he was.

“Wow! That was a really good first pitch!” He congratulated you, holding up both his palms for you to high-five. “So awesome…”

You high-fived him, but stayed holding onto his hands, wide smile overtaking your features. “Thank you.”

“I—You’re welcome.” He held onto your hands too, throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

“Jisung!” Chenle yelled out, reminding the both of you of his presence. “Can you get my phone? I made Daegal out of snow and I want to take a picture. It should be charging on my bed.”

“Yeah!” Jisung called back. He gave you a regretful look, letting your hands go to trudge back up to the cabin.

Rounding on your brother, you stomped over to him, observing the admittedly cute snow-Daegal for a moment before addressing him.

“You can get your own phone,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.

“I thought I might hurt Jisung’s feelings if I told him to leave to his face,” Chenle replied nonchalantly. He looked at you over his large-framed sunglasses. “I feel like I have to warn you, as your big brother—”

“By ten months.”

“—about Jisung.”

You gave him a sour look, knowing that he knew that you wouldn’t be able stop yourself from asking a follow-up question to a statement like that. “What about him?”

“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”

You immediately got fired up, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Don’t you dare start pulling the ‘my friends are off-limits’ card now. You’ve never—”

“Hey, I like Jisung.” He held up his hands defensively, an amused smirk on his face. “If I had to make a tierlist of my friends for you to date, he’d be like, the only one in S-tier.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Do you have a fantasy draft of boyfriends for me too?”

“I’m genuinely trying to help you here, alright?”

“So, what? Does he have a girlfriend or something?”

“Not exactly…” Chenle sighed. “Right before we left, during finals week, he met this girl in the library and just absolutely fell head-over-heels, okay? Like, he’s never even looked once at all the girls who show up to his games, but this one says three words to him and gives him some candy and he’s a goner. I don’t get it.”

It took everything in you to suppress your giddy grin and instead cock your head, playing dumb as you asked, “Wait, did he even get this girl’s name?”

“No, he never got a chance since they were both working on finals stuff,” he answered. “Anyway, I’m just trying to warn you. You’ve got to compete with the romanticized version of mystery library candy girl that he has in his head.”

“Mm. Tough competition,” you nodded with mock solemnity.

“I’m serious, Y/N. He called me at like midnight walking back from the library to tell me about it. He’s got it bad.” As if suddenly realizing everything he had just told you might dampen your spirits, Chenle’s entire demeanor shifted, and he gingerly patted the top of your head. “But uh, you’ve totally got this. I’m rooting for you, lil sis.”

“Right. Thanks… big bro,” you replied with intentional stiltedness, softballing a punch to his shoulder.

That night after dinner, you all sat down around the Christmas tree for your family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve. You sifted through the presents under the tree, some of which were ones that had been shipped here ahead of time by your parents or other extended family, others from Chenle.

“Hmm… one or two?” You asked, your eyes on two particular gifts.

“One,” Chenle and Jisung answered unanimously.

You grabbed the one that had been under your left hand, returning to your seat next to Jisung. Chenle had already picked his box, and fished out a gift bag, plopping it in front of Jisung. He seemed surprised, blinking down at it.

“But—”

“I got you more than one gift, dummy,” Chenle cut him off, already guessing what his confusion was about. “Go ahead.”

“No!” You stopped Jisung. He looked at you with alarm as you snatched the gift bag away, putting it back under the tree and replacing it with a different, much smaller one instead. “Open mine.”

Jisung looked even more confused, and slightly betrayed. “I thought we agreed we weren’t doing gifts…?”

“Yeah, but then I saw this and…” You smiled sheepishly. “Just open it!”

Shaking his head, he pulled out the tissue paper, then removed the object at the bottom of the bag. It was wrapped in more tissue paper to protect it, which he carefully wrapped, revealing the ornament that you had bought yesterday while you were split up. It was in the shape of a hamster popping out of a present box, and as soon as you saw it at the mall kiosk, you knew you had to get it for him.

Jisung turned it over his hands, looking up at you still a little confused, but with a smile. “Wait…”

“It looks just like you!” You giggled, taking it from him to hold it up next to his face. Aiming your next question at Chenle, you asked, “Doesn’t it?”

Your brother started laughing, reaching forward to tweak one of Jisung’s cheeks. “Ha, she’s right. How adorable.”

Jisung pushed his hand away, rolling his eyes. His gaze softened when he looked back over at you. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s great.”

“Hang it up!” You urged, giving it back to him and gesturing to the tree.

He got up on his knees to reach forward and affix it to an empty branch, between a bear ornament and honeybee ornament.

“Okay, Y/N, you next,” Chenle directed.

Ripping the wrapping paper off the small box, you were met with a small jewelry box, and took that lid off. Inside was a pair of ornate, bejeweled earrings, a little flashy for your taste. You checked the card.

“Great-Aunt Ying,” you announced, and Chenle let out an ‘ahh’ sound in understanding. You put the lid back on the box and set it aside. “SooSoo will love those.”

“Who’s that?” Jisung asked curiously as your brother started unwrapping his present. “Not your great-aunt.”

“Sooyoung, my roommate since freshman year,” you explained. “She’s also like, my best friend. And those earrings aren’t really my style, but I know she would wear them like, all the time, so I’ll just give them to her when we get back.”

Chenle’s box was a bit larger than yours had been, and was similarly stylish. He turned it over to shake the lid off and make the contents fall out all in one go, catching the fabric that fell out in his hand. Holding it up, it was a tie in what looked like a nice material, a monochrome and not exceptionally busy pattern on it.

“Another tie, wonder who it’s from…” he snorted, picking up the card. “Oh, Great-Uncle Feng. Surprise.”

“Does he think you’re eating all the ties he gives you or something?” You snickered.

“I think he’s so old he forgets he’s given me a tie before and thinks I don’t own any.” Chenle then offered it out to Jisung. “You need a tie? If not, I’ll ask the other guys.”

“I would need a suit first…” Jisung admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Chenle stared at him in disbelief, then sighed. “Okay, so we’re getting you a suit when we get back to school.”

“What do I need a suit for?”

“Don’t you have formal stuff that you have to go to for baseball? Awards or press conferences or something?”

“That’s maybe once a year. I just rent a suit!”

“Jisung, don’t say another word, you’re going to kill me.” He put a hand over his heart as if it were going to give out any second.

You chuckled at their antics, starting to clean up the trashed wrapping paper. “Christmas movies?”

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25

You felt like a little kid, unable to sleep the night before Christmas morning. It was after midnight, so it technically was Christmas now. And even thought you knew that neither Santa nor you parents were coming, you were still oddly giddy. You had already videocalled Sooyoung to recap the developments of the day, but you were still replaying everything in your mind, kept up with thought of Jisung. How it felt being that close to him when he was teaching you to throw a snowball, the information that apparently he was just as smitten with you after the library as you were with him. Even Chenle’s unofficial blessing put your mind at ease—not because your brother determined who you dated, but he knew Jisung better than you did and was brutally honest, so if he said that he liked Jisung for you, you knew he meant it.

Pushing your covers off, goosebumps immediately popped up on your legs that were now exposed to the cool air. You treaded over to the bathroom door. The light was off, but you still knocked. When there was no response, you opened it. You didn’t stop there, however, continuing on to the opposite door, which you knew led to Jisung’s room. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly on that one too.

You heard the rustling of sheets and quiet padding of footsteps before the door handle twisted and opened, Jisung on the other side. He looked down at you, nose scrunched up in bewilderment.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, rubbing one of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Yeah. Uhm, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, I uh, I couldn’t sleep, actually.”

“Me neither.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause, and you fidgeted with the ends of your longsleeve. “Do you want to hang out for a bit? Since we’re both up…”

“Oh! Y-Yeah, sure.” He stepped back from the door, motioning you in. “Uhm, come in.”

“Thanks.” You stepped inside, and he closed the door behind you.

The bedsheets were rumpled on one side, so you sat down on the other side, pulling the blanket over your chilly legs. Jisung watched you, frozen halfway from the bathroom to the bed for a second.

“I’m cold,” you told him, turning your phone on.

“Of course, right,” he breathed out, snapping out of his trance.

He climbed under the covers as well, putting a headphone in his ear opposite from you and pressing play on a video on his phone. Curious, you peeked over at his screen to see what he was watching. It looked like a bunch of clips of professional baseball pitchers.

“It’s my favorite pro pitcher,” Jisung blurted out, pausing the video again. He had apparently noticed you snooping at his screen. “Well, that’s currently active. He’s a lefty, and he does this thing on some of his pitches where he gets this spin and—”

You blinked as he had abruptly cut himself off in the middle of his sentence. Tilting your head, you asked, “What? Why’d you stop?”

“You’re not really interested in baseball, are you?” He questioned, turning his eyes down to his lap. “You’re just being nice.”

“Hold on—”

“It’s okay, you can go back to what you were doing, I don’t want to bore you.”

“Jisung,” you giggled, turning over on your side fully to face him. “You really haven’t figured it out?”

His brow furrowed and he pouted slightly as he seemed to genuinely be confused. “Figured what out?”

“I’m interested in baseball because I’m interested in you,” you said bluntly, watching the gears turn in his head before his eyes widened.

“Wh—Oh. Really?”

“Mhm. But Chenle did warn me that apparently you’re head over heels for some mystery girl that you met in the library during finals week who gave you candy,” you teased, letting out a wistful sigh. “So I have no chance…”

Jisung dropped his phone to cover his face with both hands, letting out a noise of embarrassment from deep in his chest, shaking his head. “Oh my God…”

“I told SooSoo about you too,” you informed him. “After the library.”

He opened his hands to peek at you meekly. “Really?”

“Really.”

Jisung glanced upwards, and you snickered.

“Chenle’s not like that. He’s not going to care unless you’re a dick to me.”

“Because only he gets to be a dick to you?” He joked, slowly removing his hands all the way from his face.

“Yep. Same for the girls he dates. Nobody gets to be a bitch to him except me.”

“So, now what?” He asked nervously, glancing around the room.

“Now, you’re going to finish telling me about your favorite pitcher,” you stated, scooting over until you were snuggled into his side, head resting on his shoulder so you could see his phone screen better.

Jisung grabbed his earbud case from the nightstand, bringing the other one out. He offered it to you, and you put it in as he turned his phone back on. He restarted the compilation, but didn’t press play yet, instead launching back into his explanation from before, excitedly talking faster now.

“So this is Hwang Myungjun. Like I said, he’s my favorite pitcher that’s in the league right now. He’s a lefty and—you’ll see it in this video, but—he does this really cool thing on some of his pitches where he can get this certain spin on the ball and…”

You listened to him go on and on with a smile on your face, breathing in the warm smell of cinnamon.

In the morning, you stirred a little, sighing and pulling the covers up to your nose. Covers that smelled like cinnamon. Opening one of your eyes, you were greeted with Jisung already wide awake, sitting up against the headboard, staring at you from behind his glasses.

You rubbed your eye and yawned. “Christ—Did you sleep at all?”

“Yeah, we get up early for baseball conditioning, so I don’t really sleep in even on days off.” He rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning pink. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good morning…”

“Morning,” you mumbled, yawning again. “Sorry for falling asleep here.”

“It’s okay. Sorry for talking you to sleep.”

“No, it was nice. I like your voice.” You pushed yourself into a half-sitting position. Pecking his cheek, you added, “Merry Christmas.”

His face flushed as he smiled down at his hands. “Merry Christmas…”

Climbing out of bed, you stretched your arms over your head, then wrapped them around yourself. “Anyway, I should emerge from my own room. Just because he doesn’t care if we date doesn’t mean Chenle needs to think something other than watching baseball compilations happened in here last night.”

Jisung squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head. “Good idea.”

“See you in a few.” You bid him a momentary farewell, opening the door to the adjoining bathroom.

Shuffling back into your own bedroom, you almost screamed when you saw a figure sitting on your bed in the dark. You grabbed for the closest thing in your reach, a candlestick on the dresser next to you, ready to swing. The figure turned on the lamp next to the bed, and you saw that it was Chenle, still contemplating hitting him anyway. You decided to set your weapon down, however.

“What the fuck?!” You hissed, stalking up to your bed and grabbing a stuffed animal to chuck at him instead. He caught the stuffed bee, holding it to his chest as he smirked at you.

“Something you want to tell me?” He raised an eyebrow. “About where you’ve been?”

You followed his line of sight between you and the bathroom door that you just came out of. “What are you, the piss patrol? Can’t a bitch pee in peace around here?”

“Toilet didn’t flush, sink didn’t run,” he immediately shot back. “Also, I’ve been in here for the past hour.”

“Don’t be weird about it—” You held up a finger in his face threateningly, and a victorious grin immediately spread across his features. “Jisung and I talked about how we felt, and I fell asleep in his room. Nothing else, okay?”

Chenle gave you a look that told you he didn’t entirely believe you, but he didn’t press you any further. “God, how am I going to choose between being your brother of honor and his best man?”

“We haven’t even gone on a date!” You grabbed a pillow and tried to pushed it over his face to shut him up. He narrowly saved himself from being smothered, cackling as you resorted to smacking him with it instead. “As if I’d even ask you to be my whatever you just made up! You’ll be lucky if you even get an invite, I swear to—”

The door to your room was thrown open from the bathroom, Jisung looking around the room wildly. “Y/N! Are—”

You stopped your assault on your brother to smile breathlessly at Jisung. “Oh. Hi.”

“I heard you yelling, I wanted to make sure…”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Thanks, Jisung.”

“I know!” Chenle announced loudly. “I know everything, Park Jisung! Last night, you and my little sister—”

You succeeded in smothering Chenle this time, muffling whatever obnoxious things he was about to spew.

After breakfast and opening presents in the morning, Jisung excused himself to go call his parents. Chenle tsked, turning the gaming console on to start up one of the new games he’d gotten and tossing you a controller.

“He tell you how he ended up coming with us?” Your brother asked, his gaze on the screen.

“Yeah. His dad goes on a cruise and his mom is with his stepdad’s side of the family. So he would’ve just been at the school if you didn’t bring him,” you replied, only paying half-attention to the opening cutscene.

“At least ours pretend to make an effort,” he scoffed. “His mom didn’t even offer to pay for his plane ticket.”

“Hm?”

“His mom and stepdad live on the other side of the country. They technically ‘invite’ him to Christmas every year, but he’d have to get himself there and back.”

“So it’s hardly a genuine invite.”

“And you know what his stepdad does?”

“What?”

“CEO of that logistics company that Mom and Dad are always talking about. The big one.”

“Shit, really? And he can’t be bothered to pay for his wife to see her own son once a year?”

He clicked his tongue. “Apparently not.”

A few levels into the video game, Chenle’s phone lit up with a text. He paused the game, and sighed upon reading the message. “Jisung says we can eat lunch without him. He’s suddenly not feeling well.”

You winced. “I take it his phone calls didn’t go well.”

“You go check on him. You can handle crying people better than me.”

You nodded in agreement, getting up from the couch. Outside of Jisung’s bedroom door, you listened carefully first, just in case he was still on a call. It was quiet, and you knocked softly.

“Jisung?” You called out. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away.

Opening the door, you saw him laying on the bed on top of his covers, his back to the door. You stayed in the doorway, asking, “Do you want to be alone?”

“No.”

You sat down on the bed behind him, still giving him his space. “Do you want to talk or do you want quiet?”

“My dad didn’t even pick up,” he muttered. “And my mom—God, I got to tell her about school for all of five seconds before she started gushing about how her grandbabies are learning how to write or whatever. I’ve never even met those kids, honestly, I don’t give a fuck about them. They’re not even her grandkids, they’re her husband’s. Apparently, one of them is on a little league baseball team. When she started saying I could teach him how to pitch when I come to visit for summer, I pretended the call was dropping and hung up. ‘When I come to visit’—I live with my dad in the summer because he didn’t move away from me.”

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you said, feeling the hurt in your heart as his voice tightened and cracked.

“It’s funny, they used to have these-these blowout fights every year about who got me for Christmas,” he sniffled. “And now that they moved on and got their new families, they couldn’t care less about me.”

“Lucky for me and Chenle, then. Because we got you this year.”

He laughed, finally rolling over to face you. He wiped at his eyes, but you still saw the tears that had run down the side of his face. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” You gently stroked his hair, brushing some of it out of his face.

Jisung scooted closer, until he could pillow his head in your lap instead, his eyes fluttering shut as you resumed your ministrations. “I’m glad you guys got me too…”

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26

A knock on your bedroom door woke you up. It opened, and somebody who was neither Chenle nor Jisung peered in.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” your mother hummed lightly. “Are you up?”

“Mm, yeah,” you grunted, pushing yourself up against your pillows.

She came over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“Hi, Mom. Merry Christmas,” you smiled up at her, letting her take your hand in hers. “Did you and Dad just get here?”

“A few minutes ago. Your father’s getting Chenle.”

There was a loud thunk from above you, followed by a yelp and two very familiar and similar laughs that you recognized as your families’. You chuckled as your mom rolled her eyes fondly.

“I think he was successful,” you snickered.

“We’re going out for breakfast when you’re ready,” she informed you, squeezing your hand before letting it go.

“Mmkay.” You yawned as she headed for your door. “I’ll let Jisung know.”

She paused, tilting her head. “Who?”

“Didn’t Chenle tell you his friend was coming? Park Jisung?” You pointed at the room next door.

“Oh, I thought he was bringing Mark for some reason.” She looked at you with concern. “Does Jisung like basketball too?”

“I… don’t know? He plays baseball?”

“Oh. Hm.”

“So, what are you studying, Jisung?” Your mother asked, stirring sugar into her coffee.

The five of you were at a diner in the small town at the base of the mountain, you, Jisung, and Chenle packed into one side of a booth and your parents on the other. The car ride had been filled with you and Chenle filling your parents in on your various happenings from this semester, but now your parents seemed to have zeroed in on the newcomer.

“Cybersecurity,” he rushed to answer.

Both your parents seemed impressed by that. Your dad spoke next, “And what do your parents do?”

“He’s got an athletic scholarship, Dad,” Chenle cut in before you could. You both knew what he was really asking about.

“Full ride,” you added proudly. “Baseball. He’s the pitcher.”

“Really?” Your dad’s interest was piqued—he was a bigger sports fan than your brother.

“Yes, sir,” Jisung replied.

“The school doesn’t give out full athletic scholarships frequently. You know that?”

“No, sir, I-I didn’t know that.”

Your dad took a sip of his own coffee, regarding Jisung like he was evaluating his investment portfolio. “So what makes you so valuable?”

“W-Well, uhm, I-I don’t—”

“He’s ambidextrous,” you answered for him. “He can pitch with both hands.”

“Switch pitcher?” Your dad hummed thoughtfully. “You know who the best switch pitcher in the history of the league is, right?”

“Kim Beomjin, sir,” Jisung replied firmly.

“Has he passed your test, yet, Dad?” Chenle scoffed. “Come on, stop treating him like he’s interviewing at the company.”

“I was trying to get to know—”

“You were being a bit much, dear,” your mother interrupted your dad’s attempts to defend himself.

“Alright. My apologies, Jisung.”

“It’s fine, sir, really.”

You didn’t understand why your mother had asked if Jisung liked basketball until you got back to the house. Your parents had brought a few more presents with them, including, kindly, a couple for Jisung. Except they hadn’t been expecting Jisung, they had been expecting Mark, which evident in the gifts. Both Chenle and Mark loved basketball, so the matching jerseys for their favorite team would’ve made the perfect present, if it had been Mark receiving it.

“I’m so sorry, Jisung,” your mother kept apologizing, clearly embarrassed at the mistake.

“No, I-I like basketball too, ma’am,” he tried to reassure her.

“It’s a requirement for being my friend,” Chenle helped him out. “If only I could’ve made it a requirement for being my sister.”

“If we got to pick, I would’ve made not being annoying as fuck a requirement for being my brother,” you retorted.

“Language!” Your mom scolded you, at the same time that your dad warned Chenle to “Be nicer to your sister!”

Your parents were gone again after dinner, leaving in a flurry of hugs, kisses, and promises of celebrating Christmas together properly next year. As soon as he’d shut the door behind them, Chenle turned to you, cynical disbelief on his face already.

“No way,” he chuckled and shook his head. His phone rang then, and he tutted. “Gotta take this. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Jisung was already in the living room, and you plopped down next to him on one of the couches, dropping your head into your hands.

“Your parents seem nice,” he said quietly.

“Mhm, they’re really great when they’re here,” you agreed bitterly. “Sort of makes it hurt worse. It’d be easy to just hate them if they left us all the time and changed plans last-minute and were awful when we did see them. But they do all that shit, and then I see them and it’s good. And it makes me start thinking that maybe it’ll be different, maybe they’ll really keep their promises next time.”

“I get that.” He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “But maybe this time you just don’t get your hopes up. Might be easier on you.”

“Yeah, probably.”

With a sigh, you sat up, turning into Jisung’s side and snaking your arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. His other hand slowly rubbed your back, encouraging you to relax into his embrace even more.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31

The morning of New Year’s Eve, the three of you were sitting around the kitchen table silently eating breakfast scrounged together from various leftovers and the singular grocery store trip you’d taken since Christmas. Then, there was a knock at the front door, and with your cereal spoon sticking out of your mouth, you gave Chenle and Jisung a bewildered look. They, however, didn’t seem put off at all.

“Y/N, can you go see who it is?” Chenle asked you, returning his gaze to his phone screen.

“Are you expecting someone?” You retorted. “You go answer it.”

The knocking came again, more insistent this time.

“Y/N! Just get it!” Chenle demanded loudly.

“Fine! Fine!” You got up, stomping over to the front door.

Opening the solid wood door, your jaw dropped when you saw six figures on the other side, before you were tackled in a hug by the one at the front.

“Surprise!” Sooyoung squealed, nearly squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Soo!” You gasped, hugging her back. “What are you doing here?”

“We were invited!” Jaemin informed you cheerily, grabbing you for a bear hug next.

“We’d never pass up an invite to a Chenle-Y/N party,” Jeno’s eyes twinkled as he pecked the crown of your head.

“Especially a New Year’s Eve party,” Donghyuck added.

“Since when have we been throwing a New Year’s Eve party?” You spluttered, still in delighted shock as you took in all of your friends standing in your foyer.

Mark hugged you too. “Chenle texted us a couple days before Christmas to see if we could make it for New Year’s.”

You grabbed your roommate’s hand, bewildered the most by her presence. She wasn’t friends with Chenle or any of the other guys standing there, to your knowledge. “But how did you…?”

“Jisung’s idea,” Chenle had joined you all, standing at the threshold of the foyer with the baseball player. “We figured out that Renjun and Sooyoung were in a study group together this semester and…”

You’d spotted Huang Renjun, one of Chenle’s friends from college whom you’d met several times before, hanging back on the fringes of the group. You smiled at him before beelining for Jisung, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek a couple times in your excitement.

“Thank you!” You were smiling ear to ear, so much that your cheeks hurt, but you couldn’t help it.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Jisung returned the hug, rubbing your back. “My late Christmas present to you.”

You let him go to hug your brother next, hooking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing him so tight you felt like your chest might burst, and you hoped he could feel how much all of this—how much he—meant to you. Despite everything you may say or do to each other. “Thanks, Chenle.”

“Of course,” he whispered, hugging you back just as tight.

“SooSoo, I’m serious, not that much has happened!” You promised, laying on your bed to watch as she got settled in your room. She had of course insisted that you filled her in on every details of everything that’s happened between you and Jisung, including things that she had already heard before since you two talked almost every night. “It’s only been like a week, and my brother is literally here.”

“We all saw those little cheek kisses earlier,” she replied pointedly. “You’re at least going to kiss him at midnight, right?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, quite literally kicking your feet as you thought about it. “Onto you—You just spent three hours in a car with them, have you figured out if you want me to set you up with Jeno or Jaemin?”

“We took two cars. I was in Renjun’s with Donghyuck,” she informed you with a desolate sigh.

“Why did you—”

“He offered because he knew I didn’t know anybody except him, and I didn’t know how to explain why I wanted to go in the other one!”

“Foiled once more by empathy and kindness.”

“I’ll figure it out before we go back to school!”

“Maybe you can get one of their numbers on your own before then.”

Despite the reputations that ‘Chenle-Y/N’ parties carried amongst your friends, and your friends also bringing enough alcohol to host a full-blown kegger, the event itself was pretty low-key. You’d gotten the firepit on the back porch going, food ordered, music going throughout the house, and had already completed several different games.

You were fixing yourself a cup of eggnog in the kitchen when you spotted someone out by the firepit. Pouring another mug, you took both out with you. Jisung looked up when he heard the back door open. He smiled as he recognized that it was you, scooting over on the bench to make room for you to sit with him.

“Eggnog?” You offered a cup out to him. “I didn’t spike it, but I can go add something in if you really want.”

“No, this is perfect,” he chuckled, his laughs rising as white wisps in the cold air. “I’ve been thinking…”

“About?”

“Were the three options hot chocolate, cider, and eggnog?”

It took you a second to catch up, but once you had recalled your first night in the mountains, you burst into laughter, nodding. “Yeah, those were the three options when I made you pick a number.”

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “There was something else, that I was thinking about.”

“Oh?”

“Are-Are we going to kiss at midnight? Do you want to? I know we haven’t gone on a real date or anything—”

“I do want to kiss you,” you admitted. “Do you?”

He nodded hurriedly. “Yes, god.”

“You still seem… fidgety. We can wait, if you—”

“That’s not it.” He set his cup of eggnog down, and you did as well. “I want to kiss you. I just don’t want the first time I do to be in front of a bunch of our friends.”

You smirked, tilting your head curiously. “Are you asking to practice before?”

He blinked. “I don’t think I was before, but I definitely am now.”

You snickered a little, leaning in and gently touching your lips to his in a feather-light kiss. He let out a small sigh against your lips, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek and pull you closer, sealing his mouth over yours. Everything was warm, no matter the fire or the cold wind or the thick jacket you were wearing, you were being heated from the inside out.

When Jisung pulled back, he had such a dazzlingly soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but stare, wanting to burn that image in the back of your eyelids forever. He moved to duck his head shyly, but you grabbed his face.

“I think we might need some more practice before midnight,” you teased, nuzzling your nose with his affectionately.

“Mm, of course,” he agreed humorously, kissing you again. And again, and again, and again.

⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon

TAGLIST

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001

@classicroyalty @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69

@winkeuu

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖

under the mistletoe

lsu!joe x fem!reader

summary: you and joe can’t stand each other. what happens when your stubbornness meets his head on… underneath the mistletoe.

warnings: minors dni, 18+. cocky joe is always his own warning, kissing, spitting, p in v, semi-public sex.

word count: 4.3k

note: happy first day of fic-mas! what better way to start than with lsu joe <333

“yeah, i’ll be able to make it… i think,” you say into your phones receiver, struggling to slide your uggs on and talk on the phone at the same time. “sorry margot! i’m scrambling this morning!” you tell your roommate, turning her on speaker and laying your phone on the counter.

her cheerful voice fills the kitchen as she responds. “it‘s okay babe! i just heard about this party and we have to go to it before we go home for christmas this year! can you write it on the fridge calendar?”

as you listen to margot talk, you pop a k-cup into your keurig and begin brewing it, sliding your trusty travel mug underneath to catch all of the delicious liquid that you can only hope will get you through this day.

“yep, i’ll put it on there! december 21st?” you ask her, popping the cap off the dry erase marker that your white-board calendar holds.

“yes, that’s right. we’ll just have to watch our alcohol intake that night since we both have an early flight the next morning.” she laughs.

you write the event down and close the marker, placing it back in its holder. you fix up your coffee as margot continues talking, filling you in on the campus drama she’s already seen this morning.

“so anyways girl,” she raved, the smirk on her face evident in her tone, “i saw justin and joe this morning talking to the same girl. like get a grip. they’re probably having another weird competition again.”

you scowl immediately as you hear joe’s name. the quarterback and his best friend chatting up the same girl, how cliché. “god i cannot stand them!” you reply with an eye-roll, annoyance present in your voice.

you weren’t sure why you hated joe so much. maybe it was the incessant flirting he did with you and every other girl you knew. maybe it was how his friend group always made bets on who could “bag bitches” first, or maybe it was just the overly confident attitude that seeped from his pores. every class that you took with him, you dreaded, because you knew he’d be right there on his bullshit the whole time.

over time, he grew to dislike you as well, especially when he realized his advances wouldn’t work on you. you tried your best to avoid and ignore him, but he always made it difficult for you. he’d bump you as you passed by, knocking you and your books over into the floor. he’d stick his foot out in hopes that you’d trip. he’d send unsolicited dick pics just because he knew it’d piss you off. the joke was on him when you’d reply with laughing emojis or even the shrimp emoji.

margot laughed at your anger. “joe’s honestly kinda funny.” she says, only making you scowl even more. “oh am i?” you can hear him ask her, it becomes obvious to you that he’s made his way over to your best friend. “mhmmm.” she draws out, and you gag. you can imagine her twirling her hair around her finger as she flirts back with him. puke.

“hey princess, comin’ to the party?” he asks, clear that he’d taken margot’s phone. hanging up the phone on him is your answer. how could she be talking trash about him flirting one minute, and then flirting back the next. you roll your eyes for nobody but yourself.

you grab all your things and leave your flat, locking the door behind you as you head to class, ready to get the last few days before winter break over with.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

the days seem to fly by, which you’re thankful for, and you pack your bag at the end of your last class before break with a smile on your face. the party is tonight, which you aren’t really excited for, but you’re going for margot and to get at least a little tipsy.

you sling your bag over your shoulder and head out of the class, your stomach growling as you think of what you should have for dinner.

you’re lost in thought as you walk, and soon you’re running straight into a hard body. as you look up to apologize you realize it’s joe, so you close your mouth as quickly as you’ve opened it.

“damn, princess.” he chuckles, grabbing your elbows to steady you. “if you wanted a hug i could just give you one.” he winks.

“no thanks.” you say, shoving him off you. “i’m too afraid i’ll catch chlamydia or something.” his friend ja’marr laughs at your words and joe throws him a scowl.

“that’s not how that works.” joe snarks, raising an eyebrow at you. “but then again, you probably wouldn’t know, you’re probably a virgin.”

you stomp down hard on his toe. “actually no, i fucked your dad.” you retort, blowing him a kiss as you walk past, and farther down the hallway.

you don’t see justin and ja’marr losing their minds at what you said, falling into each other with laughter. you also don’t see how joe stares as you walk away, a mix of anger and pride written all over his face.

when you make it home, you can barely get your keys out before margot is throwing open the door and dragging you in, headed straight for her closet. she has about ten different outfit options laid out, and even some she’s selected for you, including a beautiful strappy red dress.

“help me pickkkkk.” she whines, rifling through all the clothes she’s strewn over her bed. you pick up a navy bodycon dress with shiny silver accents and hold it up to her frame, followed by a long, dark green dress.

“i’ve always liked how these two look on you, marg. pick one of them!” you say, trying to sound as chipper as possible. she holds them both up as she turns to look in the floor length mirror, examining them and trying to make a decision.

“ughhhhh, i don’t knowwww.” she whines again, and you’ve had enough. you snatch the red dress off the bed and race out of her room, headed for your own. you lock the door behind you, and you hear margot laughing as she knocks at the door.

“bitch!” she yells, amused at your antics. you step into your bathroom, hanging the dress on the back of the door as you slip your clothes off and turn the hot shower on. you tie your hair up, not wanting it to get wet, and you step under the hot stream.

the water hits your back pleasantly, the warmth working at the knots of stress you’d been holding in your shoulder blades. you lathered your body wash onto your loofah and began scrubbing, washing away the ick of your day.

you quickly check your body, rinsing before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower to dry off with your favorite fluffy towel. you lotion up, put on some perfume, and apply a quick layer of makeup - concealer, mascara, and lipgloss - before sliding the dress on and letting down your hair. the red fabric hugged your shape in all the right places, and you posed in the mirror as you admired just how good you looked.

you plugged the curling iron in and as you waited for it to heat up you ran out into your room to slide a thong underneath your dress, followed by putting on a pair of sparkly silver heels. you began curling your hair shortly after, and then you applied some hairspray, then a few accentuating pieces of silver jewelry.

once you were satisfied with how you looked, you spritzed on some extra perfume and unplugged the curler, wrapping the cord around it and shoving it back under your bathroom cabinet. you unlocked your door and went out to the kitchen to try and find a quick snack before the party. you settled on toast, popping a piece of bread into the toaster and pushing the button down.

margot stepped out of her room and joined you in the kitchen just as you were spreading peanut butter on your bread, and she spun around so you could critique her look. she wore the navy dress with black heels, and she looked incredible.

you took a bite of toast before speaking, “it looks great babe!”

she gagged as you spoke with your mouth full. “i can’t believe you’re eating that in a dress, my dress no less!” she scowled playfully.

“i like living life on the edge.”

you finished your food and washed your hands quickly, margot was ready to get out the door. you grabbed your phone and locked up, heading to her car so she could drive to the party. you left your phone in her car as you arrived, knowing you’d be staying sober and driving back home tonight. you had originally planned on drinking, but you changed your mind. leaving your phone was against your better judgment, but you did it anyway.

margot left her phone as well but she gave you her keys, knowing you’d be dragging her ass home tonight since you had to fly out in the morning.

as you walked into the party, you laid down the game plan.

“alright, let’s try to stick together, no unnecessary hook-ups. and please don’t drink too much. i’d also like to get home in enough time to sleep a little, and finish packing a few things.” you tell her.

she rolls her eyes and calls you a procrastinator before reluctantly agreeing. you head into the party, the loud music was already bumping through the house and making the floor shake. you knew this was a “christmas” party, but you didn’t expect anything less than rap music to be blaring throughout the frat house.

you stuck by margot’s side as she waded to the kitchen, ready to indulge in a few drinks. you politely declined all that was offered to you, and you kept a close eye on your friend as she began downing shots. after a few sips of liquid courage she finally wanted to dance, so she pulled you along until you were passing through the doorway into a giant room that had been transformed into a dance floor. red lights created a sexy scene, and a disco ball was hung from the ceiling, swirling around and creating a beautiful pattern along the walls.

unfortunately, you didn’t make it past the door. as you were headed one way, joe was headed another, and his friends blocked you both so neither of you could pass.

“the fuck are y’all doing?” joe asked irritatedly, shooting pointed glares toward his friends and to you. “seriously, move and let me through.” you said, just as angered.

justin and ja’marr laughed and smirked at each other, and you noticed margot giggling too as she pointed up to the top of the door-frame. hanging there, of course, was a bit of mistletoe.

joe spoke first. he shoved at justin, “dude, fuckin’ move.” he said.

you tried pushing past ja’marr, but he wouldn’t budge. joe shot you a dirty look. “come on, let’s get it over with then.” he said, annoyance very clear in his tone.

“hell no.” you refuse, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “i’d rather stand here all night than kiss you.”

joe’s face turns to what seems to be a genuinely offended expression, and he mirrors your pose as he challenges you. “oh yeah? alright then.” he says, sticking his bottom lip out and furrowing his brow as he shakes his head. “let’s stand here all night.”

you firmly place your back against the door frame as you make eye contact with him, and he does the same. margot is standing by with his friends, and all three of them are laughing hysterically.

“literally the two most stubborn people i’ve ever seen in my life!” she giggles, leaning on ja’marr’s shoulder.

“you think we need to stand and watch ‘em?” justin asks, looking over at margot. ja’marr answers before she has the chance. “nah, if there’s one thing i know about 9, he ain’t backing down from a challenge.”

“y/n’s the same way. she’d argue with a brick wall if it meant she could prove a point. she won’t budge until he does.”

justin laughs at their answers before ushering them off to the dancefloor, leaving you and joe alone to stare at each other with utter disgust.

you huff as you look at joe, and he smirks back at you, unfazed by your little display of attitude. people pass between you and stop to kiss under the mistletoe, on the lips, cheek, or forehead. the two of you also earn many dirty looks.

standing there is honestly easy - at first. the sheer amount of dislike you have for joe is what’s holding you upright, it has to be. you continue to shoot dirty looks at him, all of which he returns, but after a while your legs start feeling weak. you slouch, eventually falling into a sitting position, and you fix your dress along your thighs so nobody can see under it. joe takes the opportunity to tease you.

“just a quick peck,” he smarms, making a kissy face at you. “that’s allll it’ll take.”

you gag, mostly jokingly, at the thought. “i don’t wan’t your lips anywhere near me, burrow.” he laughs and shakes his head, continuing to stand there with his arms crossed.

you sit there for what feels like hours - it has to be hours, people are leaving the party now… and joe is still across from you, still crouched against the doorway. people have resorted to stepping over you both to get through to the kitchen, pecking each other happily as they cross. some of joe’s friends have tried to come save him, they’ve offered to kiss you so he could come play beer pong or hangout, but you won’t let them. you made this bet with joe, and you have to see it through.

you figured joe would break whenever a girl would come offer herself up to him, but he didn’t. he declined everyone that wasn’t you, and brushed all his friends off. you pretended that didn’t affect you… but the fact that he was doing all this because of some stupid rivalry you had with him turned you on as much as it pissed you off, not that you’d ever admit that to him.

as the crowd starts to dwindle down you get nervous, you really need to get margot and head home, but there’s no way you’re breaking and kissing joe. you look over and see her kissing ja’marr in the corner and you roll your eyes. joe seems kinda proud of his friend and a tiny smirk falls upon his lips.

you scoff.

“what’s your problem?” he asks you, sticking his foot out and kicking yours. “i really need to get going. margot and i have to fly out early and she’s over there sucking face. and i’m over here…”

“not sucking face?” he laughs, tilting his head slightly. “exactly.” you agree.

“look, if it’s bothering you that bad,” he shrugs, “i’ll give you a peck to get it over with. then you and margot can leave.” for a moment you think you can see a crack in that ‘fuckboy’ exterior. you aren’t sure you want to take him up on that offer, but you know neither of your friends will let you move from this spot if you don’t.

you think about it for a brief second, and reluctantly agree to let joe kiss you. you try to talk yourself down. i mean, it could be worse. at least he isn’t ugly.

“okay… fine. but you have to tell everyone you caved.”

“whatever you say, princess.” he lilts, already leaning in toward you. “don’t call me that, i hate it.” you snap, looking him firmly in the eye.

“why?” he teases, inching closer, “it’s what you act like. even now, getting your way so you can go home instead of standing here all night. you’re a spoiled little princess.”

you reach out your hand and place it on his chest, you definitely don’t want to kiss him now. that doesn’t stop him, though. he’s already almost there until finally, his lips are touching yours as his frame towers over yours a bit. you’re both still sitting on the floor, but joe stands up quickly and yanks you up with him.

your immediate reaction to the kiss is to squirm away, but joe doesn’t let you. he wraps his arms around your smaller frame and pulls you into him, caging you against his chest. his lips start moving against yours and after a moment, you start kissing back.

all the alarms in your head are going off, but you can’t force yourself to care now. joe is a really good kisser. your hands find their way to his hair, tugging slightly. joe pulls away for a quick breath.

“went from not wanting my lips near ya to tugging on my shit real quick, huh?”

you slap his arm, earning yourself a laugh. you wait for joe to lean back in, but he never does, and for some reason you feel hurt by it. you look over and see margot still occupied with ja’marr, and then you turn your attention back to joe. he takes in your expression before laughing, you look like a kicked puppy.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he teases again, sliding his hands back around your waist. “didn’t realize you liked me so much?”

“fuck off, joe.” you retort, but you’re laughing as you say it. you stand on your tiptoes to meet his lips again, and he obliges you. you move together in sync, and this time he keeps his hold on you, pulling you even closer.

“always knew you liked me, could fuck you under this mistletoe if i wanted.” he rasps. you moan at the thought. you aren’t sure what’s come over you. you didn’t drink anything… you aren’t usually desperate… maybe it’s something to do with the fact that joe said he didn’t want this just as much as you said you didn’t, but here you are both reveling in each other’s touch. it felt like you couldn’t get close enough to each other. he pushes your back against the doorway, finally moving his hands off your hips and tangling them in your hair.

the tip of his tongue dips into your mouth slightly, and you push yours back against his, sliding it along the roof of his mouth as you slip past his lips. before you know it, joe’s dragging you down the hall and into the first vacant room he can find before he’s throwing you down onto the bed and towering over you. you push up to unzip your dress, realizing you might want this just as much as he does, but he stops you by holding out a hand.

“nah, keep it on. slide it up.”

you do as you’re told, sliding your dress over your legs, wiggling your butt and arching your back so you can get it up over ass and hips. joe drinks in the sight of you, your smooth legs and gorgeous body. you’re insecure about yourself a lot, but he’s looking over you like a man starved as he licks his lips.

he doesn’t bother closing the door as he stalks toward you, pulling a condom from his back pocket with one hand while unbuttoning his pants with the other. you slide your panties down your legs and spread them open for him with confidence.

“fuck,” he gasps, watching as you dip your fingers down between your folds to gather some of your wetness and then you rub them in tight circles on your clit. you gasp as you touch yourself, your eyes following joe as he finally pulls his pants down far enough, fisting his hand along his admittedly large length. you always teased him about it in pictures, but it was big. he knew it, you knew it, half of the state of louisiana knew it. and to your dismay, it was prettier in person.

joe finally makes it to the edge of the bed, still watching you as you work yourself. you figured you’d be cringing at the lack of foreplay, or how his pants aren’t even all the way off, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he continues stroking himself before ripping open the condom and sliding it on. he gets on the edge of the bed by his knees and comes toward you a little, a hand extending out to run a finger through your heat and gather some of the wetness pooling there. he smears it all over his cock, and even though the condom is there, it still drives you crazy to see. “joe, come on before i back out.” you tell him, and you almost don’t recognize your fucked out voice.

the heat of the moment is so enticing to you both. his clothes are still on, pants down his legs halfway, and your dress is hiked up while you dig your high heeled shoes into someone else’s mattress. he finally leans forward and slides into you. you take a sharp breath, feeling more full than you ever have as he pushes in to the hilt.

joe barely gives you any time to adjust before he’s thrusting into you roughly. his lips find yours again and you gasp into his mouth. he pulls away slightly, allowing a drop of spit to fall from his lips into your mouth, which you take happily. you’re both moving sloppily against each other, but as joe brings his hand to your clit to flick his fingertips against it gently, you can’t bring yourself to even care. you’ve had sex with plenty of people and you’ve had orgasms before, but you’ve never experienced the euphoria joe is making you feel.

the warmth starts at the top of your head and it spreads throughout your extremities, into your fingertips and toes. you arch into him, your lips still moving together, and joe’s hips are still pounding into yours, shaking the bed against the wall. you cringe as you hear margot’s keys jingling in your bra. it doesn’t seem to bother joe.

with a few quick slips of his fingers over your clit, you’re cumming against him without warning, and harder than you ever have in your life. the tight squeeze around his cock as you cum is the catalyst for his own orgasm as he spills into the condom.

he pulls out of you with haste, ready to tie off the condom and discard it as fast as possible, hating how slimy it feels. just as soon as he’s moved you dart off the bed, grabbing your panties and slipping them up your legs before attempting to make a run for it.

joe pulls his pants and boxers up, tucking himself in and then runs after you, making it to the door before you. “pretty good, wasn’t it?” he jokes, and you roll your eyes at him before pushing past and walking back down the hall, headed for margot. he chases after you.

“okay, didn’t last as long as i normally would, but i mean, we could do it again, i could prove it. that was… you were…”

you press a finger to his lips as you pass through the very same doorway that got you into this predicament. your eyes study joe’s face as he nervously worries his bottom lip between his teeth. you’ve never seen him like this before, he’s shaken up, and you like that you’re the cause of it. you’d hate to admit it, but you would like to do this again. you point up at the mistletoe and joe takes the hint, pulling you in for another short yet sweet kiss.

“text me.” is all you say before walking over to margot, grabbing her by the arm, and dragging her out the door and to the car. you pull her keys from your bra and unlock it, opening the passenger door and shoving her in before going to the drivers side and starting the ignition.

margot slurs her words as she speaks to you. “wha’ happened? did���ya kiss ‘im?”

“i’ll tell you later, marg.” you say, eager to get home as quickly as possible. you park as quickly as you’ve pulled into the space and you help margot out, grabbing both your phones before you go inside, taking margot right to her room. she insists she’s okay enough to take off her makeup and undress, and she promises she’ll drink water before she falls asleep. you head to your room, shocked to see the clock on your phone reading 1:00am already.

you set yourself an alarm for six, and you undress quickly before sliding on some pajamas and settling in bed.

when you wake the next morning it’s to margot beating on your door. “wake the hell up, we missed our flight!”

you scramble out of bed, unplugging your phone and running out into the hall. margot stands next to her door, laughing at you as you panic.

“don’t just stand there, marg!” you shout, your voice laced with panic. “we’ve gotta get dressed, load our bags, call the airport—“

she cuts you off with a loud laugh. “relax, y/n.” she says between giggles. “we aren’t late. i just wanted to get back at you. how dare you sleep with the quarterback and not tell your best friend?” she shoves your shoulder.

you look down at your phone, realizing it’s only 6:10am. “bitch.” you laugh, running back into your room. you lock the door behind you again, and margot continues her laughter. “i need all the juicy details! literally every last second of it, you have to tell me everything!”

you weren’t sure how she even knew, even though you’re sure ja’marr probably texted her.

you roll your eyes at her even though she can’t see it as you head to your bathroom, ready to take a quick shower. you check your phone one last time before hopping in the water, noticing a text notification from joe, who you’ve affectionately saved as “fuckface.”

you don’t open it just yet, but you crack a smile knowing he’s messaged you already. what have you gotten yourself into?

all photos and dividers used are not mine. all credit to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow

[seokwrts]

I LIKE ME BETTER | jjk

PART THREE

summary : After walking in on her boyfriend Sanho cheating, Y/N moves out and ends up living with Jungkook, a cocky yet caring acquaintance she once couldn’t stand. What begins as a tense, passive-aggressive roommates situation slowly transforms into something deeper, as both navigate heartbreak, vulnerability, and emotional healing. Through stormy nights, late-night confessions, domestic routines, and quiet tension, Y/N and Jungkook gradually uncover the warmth and safety they’ve both been missing—especially in each other.

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen just living under the same roof?”

pairing : jeon jungkook x f!reader

genre : roommates , fluff , smut

word count : 5.4k

warnings : Explicit. This story contains sexual content, explicit language, and themes of emotional trauma. Expect a roommates-to-lovers slow burn with intense enemies-to-lovers tension, mutual pining, and eventual smut. Features include domestic intimacy, past cheating, emotional hurt/comfort, and lots of kitchen tension. There’s jealousy, unresolved sexual tension, first times, comfort sex, and characters who are both emotionally guarded and touch-starved.

The kitchen felt too quiet after Jungkook left.

Y/N remained standing at the counter, one hand still curled around the green bottle, her other pressed flat to the cold marble. The echo of his footsteps faded into silence, but her body didn’t relax. She was frozen.

Her lips still tingled.

The aftertaste of soju—and him—clung to her mouth. Her heart pounded, not with excitement anymore, but with something sharp and hollow blooming in her chest. A burn that started low and kept spreading, like the silence had teeth and was gnawing straight through her ribs.

He walked away.

He kissed her like he meant it. Like he’d been waiting for it. Like every second between them, all the fights and the too-long glances and the drunken almosts, had led to that moment. And then he walked away.

No warning. No words.

What does that mean now?

She stood there, blinking at the space he’d left behind, like she could rewind time just by staring hard enough. Like maybe if she closed her eyes, she’d feel his hand still at her jaw, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth, his breath warm and desperate against her skin.

But there was nothing.

Only silence. Only cold tile and flickering fluorescent light and the faint hum of the fridge.

They were roommates. That was already complicated.

Now it was… worse.

Now there was something new in the air. Something heavy. A tension that crackled beneath the surface, like the moment before a storm breaks. Like the electricity that had sizzled between them wasn’t finished yet, even though he’d left her here, spinning.

She took a slow breath—then another, shallower this time—and sank down to the floor, bottle still in hand. Her legs folded beneath her, arms wrapped around her knees like she could hold herself together if she tried hard enough.

What was she supposed to do with this?

How the hell were they supposed to live together after that?

How do you go back to arguing about laundry after someone kisses you like they’re trying to undo every broken piece inside?

She let her head drop against her knees, eyes squeezed shut. Her thoughts raced, looping the scene over and over like a scratched record.

The way his voice cracked when he told her she didn’t want him.

The hurt in his eyes when he said he wasn’t safe.

The way he pulled her close anyway.

Like none of it mattered in that moment. Like needing her outweighed all the reasons he shouldn’t.

And then—he left. No explanation. No reassurance. Just vanished down the hall like it hadn’t happened.

Or like it had, and that was the problem.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. She hated how easily he got under her skin. How quickly he’d become more than just the guy who never replaced the toilet paper or left dishes in the sink too long.

Somewhere between the bickering and the late-night takeout runs, between the shared playlists and the shared silence, he’d become something else.

Someone else.

And now she didn’t know what to do with that.

She stared at the bottle beside her. Still nearly full, sweating with condensation. They’d been laughing ten minutes ago—drunk on soju and bad memories, play-fighting over who got the last dumpling. He’d called her annoying, like he always did, and she’d thrown a napkin at his face.

And then something shifted.

He’d looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. Or maybe like he’d been trying not to for too long.

And he kissed her.

God, he kissed her.

Not like it was a mistake. Not like it was just the alcohol talking. He kissed her like he’d been drowning and she was the air.

And now he was gone.

She rubbed her fingers over her lips again, as if that would erase the feeling. Or maybe help her remember it more clearly—she didn’t know. Her heart felt like it had been yanked in two different directions and left somewhere in between.

Did he regret it?

Did he walk away because he knew they’d crossed a line?

Or because he wanted her to stop him?

The questions spiraled in her head, loud and relentless. She hated this—this limbo. The not knowing. The way it all hung in the air, waiting for her to make sense of it.

She pressed her palms flat against the cold tile floor, grounding herself in something real. Something solid.

Okay.

Okay, maybe this didn’t mean everything had to fall apart.

Maybe they could talk. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe—

She glanced toward the hallway again. Empty. Still. Her phone sat untouched on the counter. No texts. No calls. Just her, in a room that still smelled faintly of takeout and unresolved tension.

She leaned back against the cabinet, closing her eyes.

Tomorrow, they’d wake up and pretend to be normal. Pretend they hadn’t changed something fundamental in the space of one breathless moment. They’d dance around it, avoid it, maybe even bury it under sarcasm and shared chores and passive-aggressive notes on the fridge.

But she’d still remember this.

The way it felt when his lips met hers.

And the ache that followed when he let go.

When Y/N woke up the next morning, her head throbbed like someone had slammed it between two speakers. A slow, pulsing ache radiated from behind her eyes, growing sharper with every shift of movement. Her limbs were heavy, tangled in the sheets like they were made of concrete. Her mouth was dry. Her stomach churned with a familiar nausea—half hangover, half something she couldn’t quite name. Regret, maybe. Or sadness.

Or both.

She stayed in bed a minute longer than usual, willing herself to stay still, to not think, to not feel. But the memories came anyway.

His mouth on hers.

The way his breath caught.

The way he didn’t look back.

She rolled onto her side with a groan and reached for her phone on the nightstand.

No messages.

No missed calls.

Nothing from Jungkook.

The apartment was already quiet. Too quiet. That particular kind of quiet that told her she was alone. No soft footfalls from his room, no clink of dishes, no sound of music bleeding through the bathroom wall like he sometimes did in the mornings. Just silence. And a faint draft, like someone had left in a hurry and didn’t bother to close the window all the way.

Dragging herself up, she shuffled into the kitchen, the ache in her body worse with every step. Her feet were cold against the tile, and she didn’t bother turning on the light. The fridge was humming lowly, the same way it always did, and something about its normalcy felt mocking.

And then she saw it.

A yellow Post-it note stuck to the fridge door.

“Went out early, my friends are dropping by later — don’t freak — JK”

She stared at it. For a second, her blurry vision didn’t even register what she was reading.

And then it sank in.

No mention of last night. Not a single word. Not even a joke about the hangover. Not even a casual, “Feeling okay?” Nothing.

Just that. A scribbled note in that familiar, messy handwriting that somehow made it feel worse. Like it meant to be casual. Like it was supposed to be meaningless.

So that’s it, huh?

Just pretend it never happened.

Like he hadn’t kissed her. Like he hadn’t touched her like he’d been holding it back for months. Like he hadn’t told her—drunk or not—that she didn’t want him, like he wasn’t safe, and then done it anyway.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and crumpled the note in her fist.

She dropped it onto the counter and stood there, blankly staring at the fridge for a moment too long. Her chest ached—not sharp, not devastating, just heavy. Like something had settled there during the night and refused to leave.

Dragging her feet, she made her way to the bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror looked about as bad as she felt. Pale. Tired. The corners of her lips were slightly chapped, but her eyes were worse—red-rimmed, dull.

She brushed her teeth, tied her hair up, splashed water on her face, but nothing helped. The ache lingered. The weight sat stubbornly behind her ribs. Her lips still ached, too—and she hated that she noticed.

When she stepped back into her room to get dressed, her eyes drifted to the clock on her nightstand. And something clicked.

Wait.

Her shift.

She stared at the numbers, blinking them into focus.

Right. Her part-time job.

Her first day.

The café.

Panic struck her chest like a slap. She had applied for the position on a whim a few weeks ago, not even sure if she had the energy to juggle classes, assignments, and this. But she needed the money—desperately. Tuition, rent, food, the occasional overpriced coffee she justified as “mental health therapy”—it all added up. Her bank balance had been crying for weeks. This café gig wasn’t a fix, but it was something. A start. A safety net, thin as it was.

Y/N yanked on a clean black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Functional. Neutral. Just enough to look alive. She tugged her hoodie over her head, fingers moving faster than her brain, and stuffed her wallet, keys, and phone into her bag.

On her way out, she paused at the kitchen counter, grabbed a blue Post-it, and scribbled quickly:

“I’ll be home late. Around 7–8.

• Y/N”

She didn’t explain.

He didn’t either.

She smoothed the Post-it flat on the counter beside the crumpled yellow one and stared at them both for a beat too long—his neat, clipped tone versus her tight, closed-off scrawl. Side by side, they looked like the beginning of a conversation neither of them wanted to start.

With a sharp breath, she turned and left, locking the door behind her.

The air outside was too bright, too loud. Her eyes winced against the sun as she stepped onto the sidewalk, the city already pulsing with its usual morning chaos—cars honking, bikes weaving through traffic, people on their phones, coffee in hand, already halfway through their day.

Y/N wasn’t ready for any of it.

But she walked.

Each step helped her breathe a little easier. Not much—but enough.

Her head still pounded, her heart still bruised, but this? This she could control. Showing up. Doing her job. Tying her hair back and smiling at customers even when it hurt. That was something she could do.

She didn’t know what would happen when she came home.

She didn’t know what Jungkook would say—or if he’d say anything at all.

Maybe this was the start of something broken.

Or maybe it had already broken, and they were just pretending the pieces didn’t cut.

But for now, she had somewhere to be. Something to hold onto.

And maybe that was enough.

For now.

The night before, Jungkook hadn’t slept.

His bed was too soft, the sheets too warm, but his body refused to rest. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, tracing invisible cracks and stains that seemed to shift and writhe in the darkness. The plaster was blank and unmoving, yet in that stillness, it seemed to hold all the answers he wished he could find.

He wanted it to tell him what to do.

How to fix the mess he’d made. How to undo what he’d done. How to navigate the impossible tangle of everything that had happened between them.

But the ceiling didn’t say anything.

So he turned his head, biting his lip until it bled a little, and closed his eyes.

And then he opened them again.

Because he couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Fuck.

That kiss.

The way she’d clung to him, like he was the only solid thing left in the world. The way her breath hitched when his hand slid up her neck, trembling beneath his fingertips. The way she whispered his name like it was a prayer, like it was the only language she could speak in that moment.

“Fuck, Jungkook.”

That sound was still buzzing in his ears.

Her lips were soft and warm, a little sweet from the soju, a little desperate with everything they both wanted to say but didn’t know how. Hot and messy and real—the kind of kiss that makes your whole body remember what it’s been missing, even if you didn’t know it was missing it.

His mind replayed it in endless loops, the taste of her, the feel of her, the way the world had slipped away until there was only her and him and the beating of their hearts.

He could still feel the vibration of her voice in his chest, the way her fingers clenched into his shirt like she was trying to hold onto something solid in the chaos. He could still feel the shape of her body pressed against his, trembling, uncertain, aching.

And God, he’d been hard for hours after that kiss. Shamefully, painfully hard, even though she wasn’t there anymore. More haunted by the memory of her touch than the physical feeling itself.

It scared the shit out of him.

Because Y/N wasn’t a girl you casually kissed in the kitchen.

Not like this.

She was complicated. Beautiful in a way that wasn’t obvious at first—like a wildflower growing through cracked concrete. Gentle but fierce, full of bite and heart and scars he could only guess at. She was juggling a thousand battles no one saw. Fighting her own hell while still showing up to her classes, carrying groceries up the stairs, and laughing when he teased her about her painfully indie playlists.

Somewhere in the messy dance of bickering and quiet glances, shared meals and late-night silences, he’d fallen for her.

Not just a little. Not a crush. Not a joke.

Completely.

He’d fallen in a way that scared him—deep in his chest, the kind of falling that could break you if you hit the ground too hard.

But the truth was, she didn’t need someone like him.

She didn’t need a guy who scraped by on scattered gigs and disappointments. Someone who lived in half-remembered dreams and constant self-doubt. Someone who believed he was inherently unsafe. Ungrounded. Temporary.

He was an earthquake.

A storm.

A wildfire that burned everything in its path.

She needed solid ground.

Someone who could be steady when the world shook. Someone who could hold her up, not pull her down. Someone who could promise safety, not chaos.

And he wasn’t that person.

He wasn’t even close.

He’d tried to tell her that. Told her he wasn’t safe, that she didn’t want him, that getting close to him would only break her in the end.

And then he kissed her anyway.

Like an idiot.

Like a fool.

Like someone who couldn’t stop himself.

He closed his eyes again, trying to will the image away.

But it lingered.

The way she looked at him—vulnerable and fierce all at once.

The way her body trembled in his arms.

The way he felt something shift inside himself, like the ground beneath him cracked open and swallowed everything he thought he knew.

He hated himself for it.

Hated the way he’d let his guard down.

Hated the way he’d made himself vulnerable to someone who deserved better.

The guilt was thick, suffocating.

If he stayed, if he looked at her again, if he let himself believe for a second that maybe this could be more than a mistake, he’d lose control.

He’d lose himself.

So he didn’t sleep.

Because sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant hope, and hope was dangerous.

He laid still in the dark, staring at the ceiling until the first hints of dawn blurred the edges of the cracks.

By then, his mind was a mess of what-ifs and maybes and could-have-beens.

He thought about getting up, but the weight in his chest was heavy. Like a stone dragging him down.

In the end, he did what he always did when things got too messy:

He left.

Quietly, without a word.

He slipped out before she woke, before the sun was fully up, before there was a chance to say something he’d regret.

Cowardice, maybe.

Mercy, maybe.

He couldn’t tell anymore.

He closed the door softly behind him and walked down the stairs, the empty apartment already echoing with the absence of her.

He didn’t look back.

Because if he did, he might change his mind.

And he knew he couldn’t afford that.

Outside, the city was waking up.

Jungkook let the morning air wash over him as he leaned against the cold brick wall of a nearby building. His fingers twitched, still trembling from the tension he couldn’t shake.

He wanted to call her.

Text her.

Tell her everything.

But the words caught in his throat.

How do you explain that you’re scared?

That you’re broken?

That the person who means everything to you is the person you’re afraid will get hurt the most?

He swallowed hard, eyes scanning the street.

He wanted to believe she could forgive him. That maybe this kiss wasn’t the end of something, but the beginning of everything.

But then the fear came back.

That he’d ruin it.

That he’d be the cause of more pain.

That he’d lose her.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Maybe one day he’d find the courage to be the person she needed.

But not today.

Today, all he could do was keep running.

Later that morning, Jungkook dragged himself into the studio, dressed in a hoodie and sunglasses like he was shielding himself from the entire world. He didn’t need a mirror to know how bad he looked—he felt it. Like exhaustion had taken a crowbar to his ribs and cracked something open.

The studio lights were too bright. The air too quiet. His head still echoed with her voice. Her breath. Her kiss.

He should’ve taken the day off.

But if he stayed home, he’d think about it. About her. And if he thought about it, he’d break something.

“Nice disguise,” Eunji said as he walked in, her tone dry and amused. She was lounging in her usual seat by the mixing desk, legs propped up on the armrest, hair swept up in a loose clip. “What’s the occasion? Did you rob a convenience store?”

“Didn’t sleep,” he muttered, tossing his bag down and pulling out his laptop.

“You don’t say.” She tipped her chin toward him, eyes raking down his frame without shame. “Though I gotta admit, the broody look? Kinda works for you.”

He gave her a flat look, but she only smiled wider.

“I mean, if this is your new thing—emotional damage chic—I support it. Fully. Creatively. Sexually, even.”

He rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Eunji.”

“What? I’m appreciating the art,” she said, unbothered. “You walk in here all mysterious and messed-up, looking like you’ve been through hell. Do you know how hot that is?”

“I’m not a fantasy, I’m a functioning disaster.”

“Same difference,” she said with a wink.

Jungkook didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with her today, but that had never stopped Eunji before. She was all sharp lines and slick confidence, effortlessly cool in a way he sometimes envied. The kind of girl who flirted like it was breathing and didn’t flinch when people flinched back.

“I fixed the harmony,” she said casually, like they hadn’t just been toeing the line between friendly and something else. “Also added distortion to the vocal drop—layered it with a pitched octave. It slaps now. You’re welcome.”

He nodded, eyes on the monitor. “Let’s hear it.”

He queued the track, and the room filled with sound—thick synth, layered vocals, just the right amount of edge. Her voice slipped through the speakers like smoke. It really did slap.

But he wasn’t here for goosebumps today.

“Nice,” he muttered. “The new layer’s cleaner. Adds weight.”

“I know,” she said, smug. “I’m a genius.”

“You’re tolerable.”

She stretched, her shirt riding up slightly to reveal a flash of skin above her waistband. “You really should’ve let me stay over last night. We could’ve written a heartbreak anthem in real time.”

He gave her a side-eye. “That’s your idea of comforting someone?”

“I never said I was comforting you,” she said, tilting her head. “I said I was available. Big difference.”

He didn’t respond. Not because he didn’t hear the implication, but because the last thing he wanted was to think about anyone’s mouth except Y/N’s. And yet, Eunji was still watching him like a cat waiting for a reaction.

“You’re no fun when you’re haunted,” she added, softer this time. “Unless the moodiness is a long-term thing. In which case… it’s growing on me.”

Jungkook snorted under his breath and leaned back. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Flirting just to see what happens.”

She shrugged. “No. Sometimes I flirt because I want something.”

“And what do you want?”

Eunji met his gaze, her smile easy, almost challenging. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He blinked once, then turned back to his screen, trying not to bite down on the flicker of tension that suddenly threaded between them. She was always like this—blunt, playful, suggestive—but today it felt closer. More deliberate.

Still, he didn’t rise to it.

He couldn’t.

His chest was too full of someone else.

Instead, after a long beat, he said, “You doing anything Saturday?”

She raised a brow. “Are you asking me out, Jeon?”

He exhaled sharply. “Jimin’s throwing a party. Figured I’d go.”

“Ah. The infamous Jimin. Prince of Seoul nightlife.” She grinned. “You inviting me as your date?”

He shrugged. “I’m inviting you because I thought you might like to come.”

“That’s boring,” she said. “Try again. Add some romance.”

“Eunji—”

“You’re killing the vibe,” she cut in with mock despair. “Here I was, imagining us showing up together, stealing attention, letting the mystery spiral…”

He gave her a tired look. “You want to start rumors that bad?”

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, eyes glittering with mischief. “Babe, I live for it. Picture it: you and me, walking in like we’re a couple out of an indie film. You brooding in black. Me in something dramatic. Everyone wondering, Are they or aren’t they?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re a walking poem today. It’s a perfect match.”

Jungkook shook his head but didn’t say no.

Eunji smirked, sensing her win. “So, pick me up around eight?”

“I didn’t say I’d—”

“You definitely did,” she said, standing up and stretching. “And if you show up looking like you did this morning, I might just fall in love.”

He laughed, dry and low. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Too late.”

Eunji wandered to the mini-fridge and pulled out a can of cold brew. Her tone softened slightly as she added, “You could use a night out, though. Even if you just stand in the corner and glower at everyone.”

“I don’t glower.”

“Oh, baby. You glower.”

He didn’t argue.

Because maybe she was right.

Maybe he did need a distraction—something loud, something crowded, something that didn’t involve kitchens or kisses or the sound of his name slipping out of Y/N’s mouth like it meant something.

Even if Eunji was a hurricane of confidence and chaos, at least she didn’t come with memories attached.

At least with her, he didn’t feel like he was standing at the edge of something that could ruin him.

And that was safer.

Safer than her.

So he nodded once, quietly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll pick you up.”

Eunji smiled like she’d just won a bet with herself.

“Good boy.”

When Jungkook got home, the apartment was quiet again.

Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that didn’t just fill the space—it pressed against his ribs.

He shut the door behind him, toeing off his shoes, and dropped his keys on the entryway table with a soft clink. The low hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the place. No music from Y/N’s room. No kettle boiling. No footsteps. Just stillness.

And then he saw it.

A single blue Post-it stuck to the kitchen counter. Her handwriting—neat, always a little tilted left.

“I’ll be home late. Around 7-8 — Y/N”

No reason. No explanation. No smiley face.

Just words.

He stared at it for longer than necessary, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

“She didn’t even tell me why,” he muttered under his breath.

He peeled the note off the counter, rubbing it between his fingers like it might offer more if he just held it long enough.

It didn’t.

It was just paper.

Just her telling him… nothing.

His chest felt tight again, that same twist that had settled in his gut since the night before. It had been stupid to think he’d come home and find some kind of clue—something in her eyes, or in the air, that would let him know where they stood.

But instead, she’d been gone. And in her place was this.

A sentence.

A timestamp.

Distance wrapped in politeness.

Still, his body moved on autopilot.

He tossed the note in the trash, then headed toward the kitchen. The living room looked like someone had lost a fight with gravity. A pillow on the floor. A hoodie draped over the back of the couch. An empty glass on the coffee table.

He hadn’t even realized how much of a mess they’d left behind.

He grabbed a rag from under the sink and started wiping the counters. Not because it needed to be done—but because he needed it. Something about the rhythm of it helped. Swipe, rinse, repeat. Clean one thing, then the next. Maybe if he could fix the space, he could quiet the noise in his head.

Jimin and Taehyung would be dropping by soon anyway. The apartment needed to look presentable. At least that was a task with a clear end. Something he could control.

He moved through the motions like a machine—picking up the hoodie, folding the blanket on the couch, fluffing the cushions. He took the glass from the table and set it in the sink, rinsed it twice before setting it on the drying rack.

Everything had its place.

Everything, except him.

Jungkook leaned on the counter and let out a long, slow breath, staring at the digital clock on the stove.

4:27 PM.

Still hours until she came home.

If she came home on time.

If she didn’t decide to stay out longer. To avoid him.

His fingers curled into fists on the cool granite.

The kiss had meant something. To him, at least. It wasn’t a drunken mistake, not some throwaway moment. It had cracked something open. The way she’d touched him. The way she’d whispered his name. That wasn’t nothing.

So why the silence?

Why hadn’t she said anything?

He tried to shake the thoughts loose, pushing himself off the counter and heading to the hallway to straighten up the rest of the space. He rearranged the shoes by the door. Took the trash out. Vacuumed the rug like it offended him.

The harder he moved, the less he had to feel.

Until he ended up back in the kitchen again, standing in the same spot where it happened.

Where they happened.

His gaze dropped to the floor. He remembered the feel of her fingers clutching his hoodie, her breath hot against his skin. The way she’d looked at him, like she didn’t want to stop.

Like she couldn’t.

But she had.

Or maybe he had.

Jungkook scrubbed a hand through his hair and dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. His elbows hit the wood, hard, and he let his head hang.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

They were roommates. Not lovers. Not even friends, really—at least, not in the normal sense. Their connection had always been a little jagged, always filled with tension and heat and something unspoken.

Until now.

Now it wasn’t unspoken.

Now it was just avoided.

The doorbell rang.

Jungkook blinked, lifting his head slowly.

Right.

Jimin and Taehyung.

He stood up, brushed his hands on his jeans, and walked to the door.

He plastered on something like a smile and pulled it open.

Time to play it normal.

Even if everything inside him still felt wrecked.

The knock at the door was light and familiar.

Jungkook opened it to find Jimin standing there, a six-pack in one hand and a cocky grin already on his face.

“Finally,” Jungkook muttered, stepping aside to let him in. “Where’s Taehyung?”

Jimin kicked off his shoes and headed straight for the couch. “Still at the café. They’ve got a new part-timer who apparently can’t tell a milk frother from a fire extinguisher. He got stuck training her.”

Jungkook raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.” Jimin dropped the beer onto the coffee table with a dramatic sigh. “He texted me like fifteen minutes ago. Said he’d be late, but, and I quote—‘she’s really pretty so maybe this is finally my chance to have a girlfriend.’”

Jungkook snorted. “That sounds exactly like him.”

“I told him to chill and maybe not flirt with someone who just burned their hand on a steam wand,” Jimin added, flopping down onto the couch. “But you know Tae. Optimism in human form.”

Jungkook sat beside him, cracking open one of the beers. “Watch him actually pull it off.”

Jimin grinned. “Hey, if she’s into chaos and philosophy rants, it might work.”

“Poor girl has no idea what’s coming.”

They both laughed, the easy rhythm of their banter cutting through the weird heaviness that had been hanging over Jungkook since this morning.

For a few minutes, it felt normal.

Comfortable.

They sipped their drinks, traded jabs about Taehyung’s love life, and debated the worst coffee shop customers they’d ever seen.

Then Jimin glanced sideways with that signature sly smile—the one that always meant he was about to stir the pot.

“So.”

Jungkook didn’t even need to look at him to know what was coming.

“Y/N?” Jimin said, dragging her name out like a tease.

Jungkook took another sip of beer and set the bottle down slowly.

“We… made out.”

Jimin blinked. “What?”

“Last night.”

“You kissed her?!”

“She kissed me too,” Jungkook muttered, rubbing a hand down his face.

Jimin sat back, stunned. “Holy shit. You’re serious?”

Jungkook nodded.

“When? Where?”

“Kitchen. After the soju.”

Jimin’s eyes were wide. “That’s not just a kiss, that’s a moment.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said quietly.

A beat passed.

Then Jimin leaned forward. “Okay, so… what now?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook said flatly. “It’s not happening again.”

“What?” Jimin blinked. “Why the hell not?”

“Because,” Jungkook began, voice harder than before, “this isn’t some slow-burn romance. I’m not the guy she ends up with. I’m just—”

“Don’t say ‘the guy in the wrong place at the wrong time.’ You’re not in a Nicholas Sparks adaptation.”

“I’m serious,” Jungkook snapped.

Jimin didn’t back down. “So am I.”

“She doesn’t need me complicating her life. She needs solid ground, and I’m—” He cut himself off, jaw tight. “I’m not that.”

Jimin studied him for a long second. “You think you’re not good enough for her.”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

“That’s bullshit,” Jimin said. “And you know it.”

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Then don’t. It’s not that deep, dude. If you care about her, just be honest. That’s literally it.”

Jungkook opened his mouth to argue again, but—

The sound of the door unlocking cut through the tension.

They both turned.

Y/N stepped inside, laughing softly as she pulled her keys out of the lock. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her hair a little windswept.

Right behind her was Taehyung, carrying her bag like it was second nature.

She was wearing his jacket—oversized, navy blue, the sleeves swallowing her hands.

Jungkook stood up without realizing it.

Taehyung grinned. “Hope we’re not too late.”

“We grabbed coffee,” Y/N said, brushing snow from her shoulders. “I didn’t realize how cold it got.”

Her eyes flicked to Jungkook—but he wasn’t looking at her.

He was looking at Taehyung’s hand on her back.

Just a casual gesture. Innocent.

But something in his chest twisted, sharp and hot.

He told himself it didn’t matter. That last night was a mistake. A slip.

But watching her now—in someone else’s jacket, smiling at someone else—he couldn’t lie.

It mattered.

More than he wanted it to.

hey tumblr angels 🌸

I’m back with part three of “i like me better” and guess what? Things are finally starting to heat up 🔥

I’ve introduced three new characters in this part (yes, chaos is coming 😋), and I need to know—

What do we think about Taehyung and Y/N?And more importantly… will Jungkook be able to handle it? 👀

Also! I’m putting together a taglist for updates—drop a comment if you’d like to be added 🫶

As always, reblogs, comments, and kisses keep me going 💋thank you for reading 🥰❤️

with love,

xo ario 💌

« previous | next »

[shokopan]

SHUT UP! . S. GETO ⤷ high school!geto x reader, fluff, shoko ult wingwoman, gojo is a menace, geto is hot. 1.3k (wtf this was supposed to b so short n silly)

“i’m blocking suguru,” you announce to your roommate, “i need to block this man. expeditiously, actually,”

“ok first, sit down,” shoko instructs, hiding her snicker as she watches you flop over her bed, “second, what happened?”

“this man. this evil, evil man decided to text me ‘i miss you’ while he’s gone. who the fuck does that? what is wrong with him? why would say something as evil as that?” you groan, flipping over and burying your face into your arms.

“wait, wait, that’s bad?” shoko frowns, rhythmically patting your back as you lift your head and scrunch up your face.

“yeah, it’s terrible. absolutely disgusting. honestly? might be the worst thing he’s ever decided to do,” you lament dramatically, “putting the idea that he misses me in his brain. what do you mean you miss me? acting like you like me or something when you’re not allowed to, the fuck?”

shoko sighs, “you know there’s nothing barring you guys from actually dating, right?

“no, i know, i’m just being dramatic and hateful right now,” you mutter, “ugh, but like also what if we break up and our friend group also gets affected? what if you or gojo decide it’s weird?”

“i feel like you have no faith in gojo and i,” shoko rolls her eyes before pausing, “actually scratch that, never have faith in gojo,”

“truer words have never been spoken,” you giggle as shoko nods and continues, “but like there’s no weird ass notion in our group that nothing romantic can ever happen and we all have to take some purity oath or swear each other off. especially not when you two basically act like, you know. and besides, geto already kinda talked to gojo and i about it, for no actual good reason by the way,”

“but us four have such a good dynamic alrea– wait did you say he asked? like asked you guys about us dating? he what?” you blink, staring expectantly at shoko as she purses her lips with shallow guilt.

“um, so anyways,” shoko gives you an awkward grin, “they’re coming back tonight so, you know, yeah,”

“so he’s asked,” you press further, sitting up now. a million thoughts run through your head, conflicted over your best friend and where the two of you stand, “so he means it? fuck, like he’s serious?”

“yeah, why wouldn’t he be?” shoko questions, “isn’t this a good thing?”

“it is,” you admit, “i’m just, fuck, i don’t know. i’m just worried about nothing probably. fuck, he just texted and said he’s at the station now. what do i do?”

“make out with him or something, i don’t know,” shoko offers unhelpfully.

“thanks for the suggestion, i’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, unimpressed, “i should probably go get him from the station, right?”

“yup, please leave the room so i can take a quick nap thank youu,” shoko smiles, feigning complete innocence and kindness after suggesting that you kick yourself out of the room.

“fuck, ok, i’m going now. i’ll talk to him. it’ll be fine. everything’s going to be good. this is a good idea. ok!” you psych yourself up, fussing over your appearance briefly in the mirror before standing up straight, “i’m off,”

“good luck! and call me if you guys get food so you can bring me back some! i’m gonna nap and won’t see your text!” shoko waves, slipping into her bed and pulling the covers over herself as you step out of the room.

you rush off the jujutsu tech campus as a pace one could barely describe as a walk. your legs rapidly propel you forward in a beeline towards the station, mind completely focused on getting to the closest entrance near the bakery that you guys would always enter and exit at as you go on autopilot mode, walking faster, and faster, and faster until you see him.

suguru exits the station alone, with gojo abandoned somewhere in the station marveling at the little stalls of desserts. he’s dressed in his deep navy jujutsu uniform, with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding onto a duffel bag. his hair’s still in the same updo you adore, with loose, unkempt strands splaying from all over, likely due to him napping on the train back.

you momentarily pause your furious strides to just watch suguru, in slight awe and abandoned self consciousness. he’s there. it’s him.

once suguru finally looks up, his face breaks into a friendly grin as he removes his hand from his pocket to wave at you, and you instinctively mirror him. when he makes his way over to you though, your breath hitches and reality resumes.

“hey y/n! what’re you doing here?” he pulls you into a hug once he reaches you, and you can only feeble return it, delicately patting his side as he glances down at you, “what’s up? i missed y-“

“shut up,” you groan, “shut up shut up shut up don’t say that,”

“and why should i?” he frowns, confused by your sudden shift in attitude, “is there something wrong with me missing my better half?”

“god yes, it’s shit like that that you say so easily,” you continue, trying to push yourself out of the hug that suguru now has you trapped in as you refuse to make eye contact with him even though his pointed stare nearly burns into the back of your head, “makes me think too much about stuff,”

“me missing you makes you nervous?” suguru muses, frown dissipating as he catches onto the heavy beating of your heart, “me wanting to be around you makes you feel something?”

“i hate you,” is all you can muster as he lets out a soft laugh.

“i miss you y/n, i miss my better half,” he smiles, “now are you gonna look at me so i can properly confess?”

you stop fidgeting and finally glance up at suguru to see a warm, kind smile gracing his face. any sign of teasing or mirth has vanished, and all you can see is suguru’s feelings being worn on his sleeve, his face, everything.

“hi suguru,” you whisper when your eyes meet. even amidst the nearly empty sidewalks, the two of you keep everything shielded away from the world.

“hi beautiful,” suguru whispers back, “i like you,”

“i like you too,” you quickly respond. the words strangely don’t feel scary to say. instead it feels natural, like a statement you’ve known long to be true.

“good,” he nods, “i’m glad. really glad, actually,”

“yeah?” you smile, “why’s that?”

“because now i feel more confident asking you to get dinner with me,” he hums, “as a date and hopefully as your boyfriend,”

“hmm, i guess maybe you can take me out,” you grin, “you wanna be my boyfriend?”

“yes,” he breathes, “more than anything,”

you reach your hand out, a little hesitant at first before letting your fingers rest against suguru’s jaw, pausing for confirmation that you instantly get as his eyes glance down to your lips. you pull him in for a brief, sweet kiss and once the two of you break the kiss, you finally respond, “you’ve got the job suguru,”

"good," he grins, kissing you again, "i'll do the best fucking job at being your boyfriend then,"

BONUS SCENE

“EWWW ARE THEY FUCKING KISSING? OUT HERE? IN PUBLIC? WHERE CHILDREN CAN SEE? WHERE I CAN SEE? HAVE SOME DECENCY!” gojo gasps, scandalized by the sight as he shields his eyes dramatically while shoko elbows him.

“can you shut up and let them have a moment?” shoko hisses, rolling her eyes as she contemplates the likelihood of success if she were to attempt to murder the egregiously tall (and annoying) man standing next to her.

“i am! that’s why i’m hiding behind the stairs here with you and not out there with them,” gojo reminds shoko kindly, “aren’t i just such a kind, amazing, and considerate friend?”

“no you’re an ass,” shoko grumbles, “anyways you owe me a meal because them finally getting together happened because i told y/n that liked them,”

“huh?”

“oops sorry geto, but also you're welcome! and good job y/n for taking my advice!"

[wonbriiize]

pairing; wonbin x reader

genre; fluff, comfort (in a way)

warnings; none

note; idk what to think about this but i hope y’all will like it anyway !!

all at once

in which you convince your boyfriend wonbin to make bracelets with you and he ends up making one specifically for you…

“i can‘t believe you’re making me do this,” wonbin sighs while he sits down on the floor, next to you.

“oh, don’t act like you don’t love this,” you grin, taking out your beads, and everything else you need to make bracelets, from the bag you brought with you.

“you know what i love?” wonbin smirks, suddenly pulling you closer to him.

“hmm.. no, i don‘t think i do?” you tease him, smirking against his lips.

wonbin plants a kiss on your lips and you fight off every desire to take this any further because wonbin’s roommates are all at home and you don’t want them to just burst into the room out of nowhere.

“let’s get to work,” you let go of wonbin and start collecting out the beads that you want to use for your bracelet.

wonbin does the same, but he’s struggling to find colors that he wants to use. for him, this isn’t just making any bracelet. he wants to make one for you. and it needs to be perfect, because in wonbin’s eyes, you deserve nothing but the best.

you wonder why it’s taking him so long to search out the beads, but your worries get brushed off once shotaro enters the room and sits down on the floor.

“i want to make a bracelet too,” he says, not really asking you for permission to use your beads, but you don’t mind. out of all the roommates wonbin has, shotaro is your favorite.

wonbin doesn’t even notice shotaro coming into the room, he’s too busy thinking about the bracelet that he’s making for you. he‘s putting all his focus into it. wonbin doesn’t even get mad when shotaro makes you laugh so hard that you almost start tearing up (because he is the only one who’s allowed to make you laugh like this), no, he’s too invested in the bracelet. right now, he’s deciding what he should use to make it more special. more meaningful.

“shotaro, your bracelet looks so cool,” you say, admiring his work. even though shotaro just started it, he’s halfway done already.

“yours doesn’t look that bad either,” he grins.

“can you two stop flirting? i‘m trying to concentrate,” wonbin glares at shotaro and you which makes you both laugh.

“hey, look who finally acknowledged my existence,” shotaro throws a bead at wonbin’s head, which just annoys him even more.

“if you keep flirting with my girlfriend, my fist will also acknowledge your existence.”

your heart jumps at the mention of ‘girlfriend’. wonbin and you have been dating for a long time, but everytime he calls you his girlfriend it still feels like the first time. it makes you feel so happy, excited, loved… it makes you feel so many things all at once.

wonbin makes you feel so many things. no matter what he does or say.

“wohooo, how scary,” shotaro grins even more.

he knows wonbin would never actually hurt him, they’re best friends. he just likes to tease him from time to time so he can loosen up.

“if you’re done with your bracelet can you leave?” wonbin points to the door and shotaro rolls his eyes. “no, i‘m not done yet.”

“i think you are,” wonbin raises up his eyebrows.

“i‘m literally not,” shotaro looks confused, not understanding why wonbin is pushing this so much.

“you can finish it up somewhere else.”

“but the beads-”

“god, shotaro, just leave so i can have some privacy with my girlfriend!!”

this conversation between the two of them makes you laugh. seeing wonbin and shotaro bickering with each other is your happiness.

“you could have just asked nicely instead of forcing me,” shotaro pouts, standing up.

now wonbin feels bad.

“dinner is on me,” he says and shotaro starts grinning. “i wasn’t actually sad, i just knew you’d say this if you’d think i am.”

with that, shotaro happily jumps out of the room, leaving wonbin shaking his head with a big smile on his face.

“i hate him.”

“you love him. but not as much as me i hope,” you slip closer to wonbin and wrap your arms around him.

“there‘s no one i love as much as you,” wonbin leans in to kiss you, but he stops right before his lips land on yours. your heart sinks a bit, you were really anticipating the kiss.

“what’s wrong?”

“before i kiss you, i want to give you this,” wonbin pulls out the bracelet that he has been working on the whole time.

“it’s for you.”

your jaw drops a little and you’re shocked at how beautiful the bracelet is. you can tell that wonbin put in a lot of thought while making it because in the middle of the bracelet, he put in a bead which represents an inside joke that the two of you have.

“you didn’t have to do this,” you say, feeling sad because you didn’t make one for wonbin.

he softly grabs after your wrist and puts the bracelet on.

“i wanted to.”

then he looks up to you again, his eyes scanning your lips.

“and now i want to do this.”

seconds later, his lips intertwine with yours. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible.

at this very moment, you don’t care about wonbin’s roommates being at home and the high possibility of them suddenly coming into the room.

no, all you care about is wonbin.. and the beautiful bracelet he made specifically for you.

and once again, wonbin does it ; he makes you feel so many things.. all at once. all indescribable. all beautiful.

[lupinqs]

hi hi hi!!!!!!! with the end of take me to church right around the corner, i want y’all to vote on which upcoming series you’d like to see first. imma be honest my favorite is the second one but i have so much lore for all of them that it would be easy for me to write any!!! vote pls!!!!

WNBA Paige x Upper East Side Princess OC:

paige plays for the liberty; she’s in her rookie season

oc is in her last year of college at columbia—her parents are very rich (like billionaire type rich) and she’s grown up on the upper east side

enemies to lovers hella because oc is a bitch lowkey and paige def matches that energy towards oc

despite being so young, oc also already has a fiancé that she’s kinda been expected to end up with her whole life because he’s a family friend and the son of another rich millionaire/billionaire but they’re more just friends if anything

oc’s finacé’s parents are huge funders towards NY sports (including the liberty) which is kinda why oc and paige see each other a lot

oc’s parents def don’t approve so angst there too

oc is also an ex basketball player who was forced out of the sport at a young age despite being talented and paige kinda helps her get back into the sport and start loving it again because at the beginning oc HATES basketball

very reminiscent of gossip girl

UCONN Paige x Teammate OC:

paige is in her junior year, oc a freshman (only a year and a half age gap yall don’t be weird)

oc was the number-one recruit in her class coming into college just like paige was so she’s got a lotta pressure on her

paige and oc are roommates

oc tore her ACL her junior year of high school so when paige tears her, oc is there for her because she’s been in that position before—paige and oc have had a lot of similar experiences which makes them really understand each other

paige really channels her inner coach p into oc because oc is gonna have to have a huge role in this season due to paige’s absence and then even more so with azzi’s injury

oc also has had a bf for like ever and i’m saying she’s been in love with this boy since she was a kid because they lived next door to each other—that type of thing. so oc has never even really thought about being gay or liking girls because she’s always been so infatuated with that boy but when she and him start having problems because he’s at a different college and when paige starts comforting her through that and she and paige start spending more time with each other, oc starts… realizing lots of things about herself and her feelings

lots of self-discovery

end goal is for paige to basically coach and encourage oc and team to a natty

WNBA Paige x Ex-Bestfriend Actress OC:

paige plays for the sparks; she’s in her rookie year

oc is a well-known and successful actress

paige and oc were childhood best friends (yes ik i just did this with tmtc) and had a hella homoerotic friendship that ends up falling apart paige’s first year of college after …. certain events

oc is more open about her sexuality but paige has always been very overthinking about it and has severe internalized homophobia which helps lead to the crumbling of their friendship before

oc has been really really successful these past few years in the acting industry; her first movie came out in paige’s sophomore year of college which was sort of a wake up call for her then because she hadn’t even known that her best friend was actually legit in acting now

paige’s junior year college is when she realizes that yeah, she is gay and she was in love with oc basically her whole childhood but she’s ruined it and she doesn’t even think she has a chance anymore

paige is completely chill and confident within herself and her sexuality by her senior year of college

anyways in the present oc and paige meet again at some after party in la and it’s so weird for paige because oc seems so confident and at ease and she’s with all these famous people now but she used to be so shy and reserved

cameron brink and oc’s best friend are good friends and since paige and oc’s closest friends in la are good friends, they start running into each other a lot more

lots of angst fs and learning the new versions of each other vs remembering the ones they grew up with

[too-many-rooks]

FUCKS SAKE I never write Modern Au’s but I’m on me fucking holidays; Hansry backpacker au in south east Asia.

Hans and Henry on a group tour of the same place, Henry’s been saving for it for ages with a bunch of gigs, he maybe is still a blacksmith or something and he and his (step-)dad run the forge at like a living history museum or something.

Hans tossed trust fund money at a last minute distraction to keep delaying adulthood. And for fun, Hans is still in some way, technically, ‘Sir Hans’, and when Henry finds this out (and also the kind of school he went to) he calls him ‘Sir Hans’ to piss him off.

Some kinda initial hiccup involving maybe, Hans and Henry being switched out of their 18-30 group tour and moved with a bunch of oldies (The Devil’s Pack, probably.) and so get kind of thrust together as natural travelling companions/roommates but they hate each other.

Maybe there’s like, idk a natural disaster that happens when they land (BASED ON NO RECENT PERSONAL EXPERIENCES) and the travel rep gets them the last hotel room available and it’s an ah oh no only one bed scenario, bc why not take advantage of the trope?

And they’re having kinda different trips; Hans is paying for all the additional extra shit, like he pays 100 baht to take a picture with an iguana in a bar, but Henry’s the one that tells him the man will expect money when he takes a photo because he’s the one pulling him out of trouble and telling him to mark smart choices. And he pays because like, why not, that’s like barely anything in ‘real money,’ live a little Henry!

And at some point they get a bit too stoned together and watch homoerotic fire dancing and have like a. Huh. Moment, and make out in a club on the beach.

Anyway for the rest of their travel group;

Godwin is some old hippie perma-traveller spiritualist who’s been on a semi Buddhist trip of south east Asia for a few years. He’s got a lot of Asian style tattoos and you know he’s rocking the elephant pants too. Also probably taking advantage of the legal weed very heavily. Is definitely still a priest, but more generally ‘spiritual’ than particularly pious.

Zizka, Hynek, Kubyenka, Janosh and Adder are all there on holiday together.

Kubyenka and Hynek are on an absolute weeks-long bender and just indulging in every vice that’s offered, drugs, alcohol, sex, adrenaline, everything. (And Hynek is maybe luring Henry to the dark side a little/peer pressuring slightly sheltered village lad travelling this far his first time into trying hard drugs and getting into danger.)

And the others are there - Adder and Janosh and Zizka have all gone travelling together, they’re something like old army buddies/still actively involved in some shady military shit. Zizka’s like team captain making sure the pack don’t get into too much trouble, but seems to be okay letting them ‘let off steam’ however they like. (He also seems to be surreptitiously recruiting Henry to their shady military shit when he starts recognising his potential from how he reacts to Devil pulling him into shit.)

Katherine seems kind of above it all, and is just trying to relax and sunbathe and shit and it’s not super clear if she’s part of the other group who already know each other or she came by herself? But she keeps disappearing and no one really knows what she gets up to.

Rosa’s maybe there too - she’s like 18 and on her gap year before starting at a very prestigious university to study literature. She’s having a hot girl backpacking trip. She can’t stand Hans bc he’s just like all the other twats she went to school with, but Henry seems like a good shot for a tour fling/entertainment, but annoyingly he’s obsessed with Hans, and having such bad taste has to count for a mark against him. Katherine takes her under her wing and makes her even more terrifying. They start coordinating outfits.

[halowishes]

february favs!

another short list because post-grad life is insane & i’ve been traveling <3. please forgive me.

finders keepers

m. 44.5k. babysitter omi gone wrong.

i read this fic thanks to the commenter on my haikyuu in other sports post🙏 kiyoomi and atsumu go on a wild goose chase around tokyo to find the 4 sakusa kids that ran away! lovely read full of preteen angst, horny & overworked omi, impulsive & helpful atsumu, and guest appearances of everyone’s fav side couples! seriously such a great read.

the posterior probability

t. 58k. professor omi x peds resident atsumu.

i’m sure many of you have read this but wow. i loved this. it almost made me miss my stats classes and yearn for academia before remembering 1) my profs were boring and 2) i hated research for my field. ANYWAYS, i am a huge fan of confused & vulnerability-averse kiyoomi. everyone needs an atsumu who makes them feel safe & comfortable being themselves❤️ can’t wait to read the rest of this series.

cascade & amplify

e. 2 works. 10k words total. mid skip au.

canon mid skip sakuatsu… they are so dear to me. inexperienced and determined kiyoomi hooks up with atsumu while he’s in town. shameless smut. hilarious jokes. sex drunk atsumu where he just starts babbling. what more do you need???

to be found

e. 34.4k. craigslist missed connections skts.

when atsumu sees a beautiful man on the street he does everything in his power to meet him. this fic included the kiyoomi ballerino hc, many moments of osamu being a good brother, and the ridiculous things we do in the name of love. atsumu and kiyoomi come from very different worlds but they’re still made for each other‼️

mission failed successfully

t. 7.9k. skts first date that’s not a date.

gotta love a getting together fic❤️ it is so on brand for their first date to go horrifically wrong yet also end up being the best date ever. also carlee is such a talented writer and i love the way she describes feelings and ugly emotions and love. the sequel for this just came out so ill be reading that too!!

lemon scented peace of mind — ushijima x sakusa

t. 1.1k. pre-canon volleyball camp.

ok so i actually read this on accident! my skts polluted brain just assumed any kiyoomi fic will have atsumu as a love interest💀 but this was very short and sweet featuring kiyoomi’s anxiety about messy roommates and volleyball camp. but all is well when ushijima walks through the door <3

is this how you’ll remember me? — osamu pov

READ THE TAGS!

t. 4.2k. grieving & ghosts.

osamu sees atsumu’s ghost and he follows him around throughout the years. i usually shy away from sad/grief fics but this one felt like a piece of their soul. idk how to explain it but it was surprisingly comforting. it has a lot of love for the characters. this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea but if you are up for it, i really enjoyed this fic.

i’m honestly ashamed there’s no valentine’s day fics here… if you guys have any recs then send them my way!!! love you all!

[starlight299]

As a queer person, I really, really, really love it when authors acknowledge how unsafe it was to be queer in the time period they’re writing in.

Like I get that sometimes we want to be delusional or think the characters “deserve happiness” but that’s exactly the kinda thing that convinces straight people there aren’t still counties out there that will kill people for being gay, or that gay marriage was only legalized across the US in 2015, that’s 10 years ago. Or that Idaho is currently petitioning to overturn that so the “decision” goes back up to the states and they can get rid of it. A petition that’s estimated to hit the Supreme Court in two years. So yeah, reality sucks, and I understand that while writing people want to live in a fantasy world where everything works out, and people should do their own research blah blah blah, but it’s just extra dire to remember all this with what Idaho is currently doing.

Also, our queer characters can still be happy, they can still get a good ending while reminding the readers that everything was in fact not dandy. For example your queer couple could still live together in what looks like a roommate thing to everyone else, or if you had a lesbian couple and a gay couple that are friends beard couples and lavender marriages existed. Which delves further into queer culture and is really fun to write about, I promise.

And for the love of all things can we please not write “I’m really upset you don’t want to come out and if you don’t we’re gonna have to break up” fights set in the god damn 80’s!? Because even if that’s a common thing today (which I have not seen with any of the people I hang out with) it certainly wasn’t the further back you go. It was okay not to be out because it was dangerous to be out, it could quite literally ruin your life. Cops used to break into gay bars and arrest people, that’s what stonewall was all about. Cops even broke into people’s houses and arrested them for having sex. Not even mentioning hate crimes and general discrimination. Being gay was a fucking nightmare.

Anyway I read a Psych fic a week ago where Lassie and Shawn got married in California in 2008 when California didn’t legalize same sex marriage until 2013, saw a Steddie post three days ago where Steve and Eddie got married in 1994, remembered another Steddie fic I read a long time ago with Eddie pressuring Steve to come out, and then looked into how common that is earlier today and released why some straight people are so fucking shocked when I remind them that gay marriage was only legalized in the US 10 years ago. We’re doing that, all because we apparently forgot how to write a happy couple if they can’t get married. Seriously?

We can still give out happy endings while acknowledging that we didn’t have the right to exist thirty years ago and that even now our rights are on shaky ground. Let your character find happiness, let them protest, let them have non-legal weddings, but do not forget or erase history. We do not have that luxury while our rights are still under siege, and even if they weren’t it’s still never a good idea.

Also write about AIDS, I don’t like to read spicy fics, it’s not my thing, but let your characters ask each other if they’ve been tested, let them talk about being scarred to hook up in bars, talk about lesbian doctors because the government didn’t want to do shit to help. Acknowledge history. Please.

And I’m ranting again, I know. 🧀

[psychedelic-pebble]

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Warnings: NSFW content - mdni.

Pairing(s): College!Stanford Pines x Reader

Summary: You hate parties, but somehow get roped into the biggest one at Backupsmore University. Luckily for you, things take a turn in your favor.

If there’s one thing you’ve always hated, it was parties. They’re crowded, stuffy, and loud. But this was college, and despite your evident discomfort around them, you’re easily peer pressured. You received an invitation to a house party, a house that one of the rich kids owned. His parents were gone for the weekend, and no matter how hard you protested, you were somehow roped into going.

Apparently, they didn’t really care who they invited; they just wanted to have a lot of people there. You don’t actually have that many friends to go with; in retrospect, you actually only had one friend at college, who happened to be the reason you were roped into this whole ordeal.

You don’t know what to wear; you don’t really go to parties. You don’t “party.” You decide to keep on your day clothes: ripped jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. Sitting at the couch of your dorm thinking of any excuse to ditch, you hear a knock at your door. Fuck. Too late. You begrudgingly open the door and smile awkwardly.

“Hey, Fidds.” You give a nervous half-smile, placing a hand on the base of your neck.

“Hey! Ya decide not to back out after all?” Fiddleford, AKA your only friend at uni, beams at you. He’s also not dressed in anything fancy: just his normal sweater and jeans.

“Too late to back out now anyway.” You sigh, closing and locking the door behind you. You place your keys in your pocket and follow him down the hallway. “I’m not really the partying type, you know.”

He gives your shoulder a light punch. “Aw, c’mon, it’ll be fun!” He leans down a little, just enough to lower his voice and whisper, “Plus, I dragged Ford inta coming.”

You’re not as close to Ford as he was, but Fiddleford could definitely tell how you felt about his roommate. He was pretty much the only one you’d opened up to about your feelings towards Stanford. You two were friends, but not much more than that.

As soon as you hear Fiddleford say that, you choke a little and glare at him.

“You didn’t.”

“I sure did! It’ll give y’all a better chance to get to know each other, too!” God, if it weren’t for the fact he was your friend, you would’ve strangled this farm boy.

With a rough clearing of your throat, you two begin walking down to the house where this party is supposed to be happening. It isn’t far from campus, maybe a fifteen minute walk. Most of it is spent making idle chit-chat with Fiddleford and talking about trivial things.

You can tell this is the right house from the get-go, if the blaring music is anything to go by. Looking around the small crowd scattered around the front lawn, you make out a figure standing by the curb seemingly waiting for you. It hits you that it’s Stanford after a moment, and you feel your face embarrassedly flush. He grins and approaches the two of you.

“Hey, you made it!” He smiles at you and Fiddleford, keeping both hands in his pockets. “I was starting to wonder if you had set me up.”

Fiddleford laughs, sparking up a conversation while you silently panic and stare off into space. Ford was wearing a white button down that hugs his form a little too nicely, and a pair of black slacks. You find yourself idly staring at his chest more than once.

God, you need a drink.

“Hey, uh, not to be a buzzkill and ruin the curb-party,” you say, disappointed with the way your voice wavers, “but shouldn’t we head inside?”

Both men stop their conversation and nod at you. You give an awkward grin in return and start walking inside, with both of them following suit. You push open the front door and immediately your ears are assaulted by the blaring music; you wince and continue forward, trying not to let it overwhelm you just yet.

“I’ll, uh, just be over here.” You gesture towards the drinks, trying your best to play it cool.

“Sounds good. We’ll be here if ya need us.” Fiddleford winks at you and you flash him an uneasy smile in return.

Your feet move faster than your thoughts, and before you know it you’re pouring yourself a drink, with more alcohol than juice. Just to ease the nerves a little, you think. You take a large swig from your red plastic cup, choking a little but swallowing it down and coughing loudly. This really was not going to be a good night for you.

As the party continued, you basically just hover around from corner to corner trying to find your friends. They’ve completely disappeared, and it didn’t help that you were more than a little tipsy.

“Hey!” Some girl suddenly shouts, causing everyone in the room to turn around to find the source of the call. “We’re playin’ seven minutes in heaven, who wants in?”

Great. You really don’t want to stick around for that, but before you know it, you’re being dragged along with the crowd. You stumble, clumsily looking around before realizing everyone is starting to sit in a circle. It’s too late to leave without further embarrassing yourself, so you sit too. You look around nervously, trying to take in the options for who you might be forced into a closet with. Your heart drops when you see Stanford sitting right across from you on the other side of the room, right next to Fidds. He looks just as nervous as you feel. You’re regretting going to this party more and more.

“A’ight, here’s the rules!” The girl from earlier yells, grabbing an empty beer bottle and holding it up. “We spin this and whoever it lands on has to go into that closet together.”

You are not drunk enough for this.

A couple rounds pass with most people opting to flirt, talk, or make out in the closet and then it's suddenly your turn. You’re passed the bottle and stare at it with malice, clutching it in your hands before the crowd starts urging you on to spin it. You notice Ford looking at you; he gives an awkward smile and looks away.

Okay, fuck it, you think. You place the bottle down and give it a good spin, and once it slows to a stop, you follow the direction of the neck and freeze. Once again, Stanford. Fucking, Pines. What are the chances??

You swallow nervously and look around at everyone, wondering if it’d be too late to back out. Fiddleford gives Stanford a shove, causing him to stumble forward a bit and look at you. He gives you a nervous look, standing up and waiting for you to follow.

Despite everything screaming for you to run, flee, and get away, you stand up and brush yourself off. You wobble a little with the alcohol in your body still prevalent. You’re suddenly being shoved towards the closet before you can protest, with Ford not far behind having Fidds pushing him on.

You’re both pushed into the closet and the door shuts behind you. You let out an embarrassed groan as your eyes adjust to the dark. You can make out Ford standing close by, fidgeting with a button on his shirt. There was barely enough room for both of you to fit in here.

“Ford,” you sigh, defeated, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even come out tonight.”

He looks at you and swallows nervously. “It’s okay, I know Fidds probably pressured you like he did with me. People like us don’t get invited to parties very often.”

It's deafeningly silent for a few moments while you gather your thoughts.

“You don’t seem like the partying type.” You shrug, leaning back against the wall.

“Neither do you,” he laughs, “yet here we are.”

You’re so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath. Seems like he’s been drinking too. Your face burns a little; thank god it’s dark in here.

“What do you want to do?” Ford asks, leaning against the other wall.

“What is there to do in this situation?” A sigh escapes you and you can’t help but cover your face. “Most people get drunk and have drunk sex in a closet. It's stupid.”

Ford grimaces and looks away. “Even if it’s someone they don’t know. I mean, at least we know each other, and I wouldn’t be completely opposed to it, but-“ He cuts himself off. Oh God.

You feel like you’re gonna explode. What did he just say?? The two of you share a flustered glance and you bite your lip in thought.

“Stanford, I, uh.” You try to think of something, anything to say. He grits his teeth and covers his face in shame.

“Sorry. I think the alcohol is getting to me.” He frowns, dragging a hand down his face.

You can’t think of anything to say, so you let your body speak for you. You walk forward and grab his button down, yanking him down into you and smashing your lips into his. He squeaks in surprise with his hands trembling and hovering just above your hips. You pull away and look at him, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” you mumble, backtracking and attempting to pull away.

His hands find your waist suddenly and pull you closer, a huff escaping him when you press up against his torso. “It’s- It's fine.”

You share an embarrassed look, and you feel him shift nervously, but he doesn’t let go. You look down and your jaw almost falls off; he’s completely hard in his slacks.

“Holy shit.” You breathe, looking back up at him. Ford averts his gaze to the other side of the closet, slightly releasing his hold on your hips, but before he completely lets go you decide to let yourself be bold. “Want me to uh, help with that?”

He blinks and turns back to you, seemingly taken aback. “What do you-?”

Not giving him a chance to answer, you reach your hands down and fumble with his belt. He flinches slightly, obviously not used to the contact, and you stop, looking back at him.

“Is that okay?” You bite the inside of your lip nervously, wondering if you’ve just screwed the whole thing up.

“I mean, I, uh.” He sighs and lets out a small groan. “I don’t really do flings. I want there to be something behind it.”

“What if there is something behind this?” The words come out faster than you can think them over. Ford feels his breath catch in his throat and he looks at you with an almost pleading expression.

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m in love with you, dumbass.” You laugh nervously, attempting to downplay the situation.

Stanford swears under his breath and looks everywhere but you. “I, uh, I have feelings for you too.”

Your heart swells in your chest and you grin dumbly, clumsily unbuckling his belt with shaking hands. You look up at him with an expression that asks, “is this okay?” and Ford looks down at you and nods his head.

“Please, I need you.” That's all it takes for you to sink down to your knees and pull his slacks down along with his boxers. His dick nearly smacks you in the face as it springs out of his boxers, already hard and leaking. You hadn’t even touched him yet.

“Oh, wow, uh,” your breath hitches and you blink a couple times, “that's, wow, haha.”

He covers his face with a hand embarrassedly, too scared to look down at you. You smile at his shyness, determined to break it and make him into a mess for you.

You wrap a hand around his cock and give an experimental tug, causing him to hiss through gritted teeth and whimper softly. You think over your options, eventually landing on taking it further and wrapping your mouth around him. You take the head into your mouth and he straight up moans, slapping a hand over his mouth and running the other through your hair.

“Shit,” you hear him whisper, trying to keep himself quiet so as to not alert anyone else at the party, “that’s- God, that’s good.”

Your chest swells with pride and you take him a little deeper, experimentally pressing the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock. His hand trembles and grips your hair. You pull away , looking up at him.

“You can be rough, Ford. It’s okay.” You pant, taking him back into your mouth. He nods and moves his hips forwards ever so slightly while gently pushing the back of your head trying not to hurt you. How cute.

You move suddenly, taking the whole thing down your throat, and he lets out a strangled cry, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of his bottom lip to try and quiet himself. He can’t help himself anymore; he fucks your mouth a little harder and begins moving your head with his hand; you don’t mind.

He’s never felt this way before; his heart is pounding and he feels like he’s on fire. He can’t control himself; his fingers grip your hair hard and pull you down onto him while he starts fucking your throat like he’s gone feral. You place both hands on his thighs while he does so, feeling the way they tense and relax with every thrust.

The noises he’s making go straight through you, causing you to heat up and moan around him. The vibration makes him groan and fuck your throat faster- he’s getting close, you can tell.

“C..Can I cum in your mouth?” He asks shakily, slowing his thrusts to give you a chance to respond.

You nod feverishly around him; you let him take control as he loses himself and shoves your head down in a fast-paced rhythm while thrusting his cock into your mouth. The whine he lets out is downright pornographic, biting down on the palm of his hand to silence it while he shoves himself as deep as possible and cums down your throat. You nearly choke but manage to keep it together as you feel it down your throat, filling your mouth and dripping down your chin.

He stays there for a second before pulling back to let you breathe, and you cough slightly at the movement. You wipe off your mouth with your sleeve, not caring if it’s gross at the moment.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Stanford leans down and places a hand on your shoulder. You shake your head.

“No, just not used to that.” You weakly say, your throat still raw.

It’s just then that you realize there’s been someone banging on the door for the past few minutes that neither of you picked up on.

“It’s been like, fifteen minutes, are y’all okay?”

It’s Fiddleford’s voice. You and Stanford exchange a glance and you stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” You call back, standing up and brushing yourself off. Stanford fumbles with his pants, pulling them up and tucking himself back into his boxers. You open the door and look at Fiddleford with a sheepish grin, while Stanford exits the closet behind you and clears his throat. Fiddleford raises an eyebrow and looks at the both of you. Everyone else at the party is staring.

“Y’all look like hell.” He jokes and punches Stanford’s shoulder gently. “What’d y’all get up to in there anyway?”

You glance away and Stanford gives him an awkward smile. You hear the crowd watching you collectively give an “ooooh!”

“You don’t wanna know.” You eventually manage to say. Fidds gives you a knowing look and grins.

“Y’all together now?” He crosses his arms and surveys the both of you.

Stanford shrugs, looking at you and back to Fiddleford.

“I guess you could say that.” You laugh a little, shoving your hands in your sweatshirt pockets. You’re gonna have to wash it when you get home.

Thanks for reading!! I also uploaded this on AO3 if you’d like to read it there.

divider creds to @cafekitsune !!

[lunarrumor]

random valgrace headcanons

- leo cooks for jason all the time because he likes it (it reminds him of his mom and when she taught him how to make his favorite dishes) and his love language is most definitely gift giving because he’s not so good with words

- but one day leo was up all night working on some new machine (again) and jason decides he wants to give him a break so he tries to make some simple pasta. butttt they didn’t really have cooking lessons at camp jupiter and the water overflows and he burns the sauce and when leo gets back jason’s hair is mysteriously red and the kitchen looks like something exploded (it did. the sauce bubbled up and went everywhere)

- however they go camping together once and leo makes a fire and by the time he gets back from going to use the restroom jason has caught a wild bird and is frying it up

- leo makes jason random little trinkets all the time

- when leo and jason are having meals with the seven + reyna and nico they’ll tap messages to each other back and forth in morse code until annabeth gets annoyed by all the banging

- leo loves horror movies and jason hate hate hates them

- when jason gets drunk he likes using a lot of big words except he’s too drunk to use them correctly so he just hopes no one notices (leo does but doesn’t mention it…. without fail he’ll look at him and go “how r u so smart even when so drunk” and jason will give him a dopey smile)

- they go to college in new rome together and visit piper at her mortal school all the time

- they also got an apartment together because yeaa it might be moving fast but they totally didn’t move in together because they’re soulmates or whatever. naaaa it would js be silly not to right ? they shouldn’t *both* be paying rent when they’re gonna be at the same place *anywayss* and jason doesn’t cook and leo doesn’t clean so really it’s just a responsible roommate setup rigggght (aka the lie they tell themselves bc they really js wanna have the security of seeing each other everyday and live a wholesome life where they don’t have to worry if the next time they visit the other they’re not gonna be there anymore)

- but they’re both still worried to ruin the relationship because it’s so new and they’ve been pining for so long so they get separate rooms. except leo is always crawling into jason’s bed at night or jason is playing a movie in leo’s while he works (leo’s barely paying attention but jason likes doing it so he can sneak him snacks because leo has a habit of forgetting to eat while working. and every so often leo will make a goofy joke about the movie n he gets so amazed by how smart n funny leo is. n leo likes the background noise and jason’s little snorts when a character is being dumb. and mostly he just likes his presence. how they can just sit in silence together and without leo having to say anything jason will know how much he cares. how much he appreciates jason caring about him)

- and eventually leo just stops going back to his room, unless he’s working on something, because he likes the smell of jason and waking up with him and bothering him while he does schoolwork. his things slowly start appearing in jason’s room until he’s basically moved in and one day he comes home to jason rummaging through his drawers and he’s like uhh ??? and jason’s like ah rats i was gna surprise you….. i cleared out my closet and got a dresser so that you don’t have to keep going back and forth and i can totally put it back if u don’t want that i just thought maybe you might want to because you haven’t rlly slept here in so long anyway and…. and leo kisses him n grabs the pile of clothes and carries it off to *their* room. and so leo’s old room becomes his new work space

- on this same vein leo will get so distracted while he’s working on a new project that he’ll forgot all about time and sometimes he’s doing this n jason comes in and tells him the time and he drops everything and makes dinner bc his stomach grumbling is fine but when he realizes jason probably hasn’t had a real meal since the last time he cooked now *thats* motivation

- of course jason doesn’t always need him to cook (in fact leo starts trying to teach him no matter how disastrous it is at first. i guess multitasking in battle doesn’t equate to handling the chaos of a kitchen ? but jason actually gets pretty good as long as he’s looking at a list of instructions) but leo just likes all the compliments he gets from jason about his food and how he’ll sit with him in the kitchen and come up behind him with his hands on his waist (jason gets really excited whenever leo asks him to do something like bring him some seasoning or a ladle because he likes being helpful)

- jason also started picking up food after his morning class and bringing leo breakfast because he is *not* a morning person. he’ll also order food when leo’s been cooped up in his room for some time and he knows he wants to keep working so jason brings his lil surprise in along with his laptop and they eat together (with jason making sure leo takes a bite every now n then and eats enough before it gets cold)

- jason wakes up at 6 am everyday to go to the gym, shower, and go to classes meanwhile leo doesn’t have class till 1 and even then he’s late sometimes. because as u could assume leo stays up late at night and jason has trouble staying up past midnight (he always falls asleep during their movie nights even though he tries his very hardest not to but leo is so toasty he just can’t help it. and leo always tucks him in and takes off his glasses)

- also neither of them like waking up alone on the couch in the middle of the night (which is fine when leo falls asleep first, jason just picks him up and carries him to bed. but leo isn’t exactly built for dragging 6 ft men across an apartment floor) so they get a pullout sofa for this exact reason (not a bed pullout couch. he would still have to lift jason off and jason is a heavyy sleeper. he had to sleep through a lot of chaos at camp jupiter. they get one of those couches that extends into more couch and pile a bunch of blankets on it for movie nights. and leo makes popcorn with an ungodly amount of butter)

- leo runs warm and when his emotions spike his powers act up so he stress sweats and everytime it happens jason will cool him off with a nice breeze

- on the flip side jason is always cold so he’s always snuggling up to leo (totally the only reason. definitely not that he’s touch starved) and in the winter they’re literally attached at the hip. jason will not let him go no way no how he *will* stand/walk/lay/sit with his arms around leo at all costs (the cost is piper grossing out at their gushiness)

- jason’s bear hugs are leo’s favorite things in the world he could stay wrapped in those arms forever

- jason and leo live in the same apartment complex as frank and hazel and they become a lot closer

- percy and annabeth live down the hall and leo loves to ding dong ditch them

- annabeth randomly knocks on their door sometimes because she wants leo’s help figuring out the logistics for an architectural project of hers and jason will follow so he can play video games with percy (yeah i said it, percy and leo teach him how to play and he likes it more than he thought he would)

- every week they all get lunch together with reyna, piper, and nico

- nico comes over at first to hang out with jason but he still finds leo…. odd but eventually they bond over their love for horror movies and laughing at jason

- leo loves to sketch when he gets bored in class and he’ll be spacing out drawing until he realizes that his whole page is full of jason’s face from every possible angle

- leo fell first but jason said i love you first (after a lot of coaching from piper)

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Pure Fluff (8) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven

Algorithms and Other Acts of Affection (ao3) - httphowell

Summary: On a rainy Sunday night in their forever home, Phil refuses to get dressed, too absorbed in TikTok chaos to move. Dan pretends to be annoyed—but really, he's just quietly falling in love all over again.

An Evening in the Phouse (ao3) - p4stmybedtime

Summary: Phil turned around to dry his hands on a tea towel and saw Dan gently swaying to the music when he got an idea.

"Wanna dance?" He asked and reached a hand out to the other man.

Dan chuckled shyly but took Phil's hand in

his own, “Now who’s the soppy one?” He asked.

“Shuddup, I hate you” Phil mumbled into Dan's neck as he felt Dan's other hand splay out on his back, holding him close as they stepped in time to the slow beat (and occasionally on one another’s toes).

Phil wracked his brain for a place he felt safer than in Dan's arms but came up with nothing.

for your eyes only (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: and they were roommates

(the fluffy tatinof bed sharing fic no one asked for in 2024… or did they?)

Honey (ao3) - p4stmybedtime

Summary: ““Morning, bear” Phil murmured softly, before nuzzling his nose into the crook of Dan’s neck, his delicate lashes tickling the sensitive skin there. He shifted back down and rubbed his pink cheek against Dan’s chest, before lying still and exhaling calmly.”

Or: Just some soft morning cuddles. They’re in love.

honey, let's get married (ao3) - manchesterau

Summary: Dan and Phil decide not to have a wedding, but they get married anyway.

I have to tell you something (ao3) - solarpower21

Summary: Dan confesses he was the one behind the PhilsLion account.

I Love You, I’m Sorry (ao3) - httphowell

Summary: While cleaning the house, Phil discovers a shoebox filled with letters he and Dan exchanged during their time apart at the start of their relationship—when Phil was at university and Dan was in Reading. Some are lighthearted, others deeply personal, but one holds a message Dan never had the courage to send.

I should be over all the butterflies (But I'm into you) (ao3) - blankbluestare

Summary: In which Dan is stupid and scared, but so is Phil, so it has gotten them more than a few years to get together.

And how easy it all is despite the time, because it’s them.

Or

A canon-verse AU in which everything’s the same, except Dan and Phil put an end to their romantic relationship very early on, so they've remained platonic best friends who’ve been pining for each other for years. And how they finally get back together.

i wanna be with you everywhere (ao3) - manchestereyes

Summary: It’s a kiss to show Dan how wanted, how needed he is. It’s a kiss Phil hopes can communicate even a fraction of the staggering feelings he has for Dan.

And god, the way Dan kisses back is enough to send Phil writhing against him, to the point where just Dan’s lips aren’t enough for him. So he trails his lips over to Dan’s cheek, savoring every drop of him, his desire only growing as he kisses his way down Dan’s jaw and onto his neck. And then…

Oh.

Or, a month after meeting for the first time, Phil discovers Dan's neck thing.

idgaf (because it saved me) (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: When Dan sits down at his piano, he doesn't expect to put so much emotional vulnerability onto the page. But TATINOF had a song. Introverts had a song. Terrible Influences needs a song. And, more importantly, Dan and Phil need to figure out how exactly they plan to take back what the internet took from them.

in simpler terms: i can't stop thinking about the fact that they occasionally write songs together so i wrote a fic about it.

iPads and Tour Bunks (ao3) - dnpangels

Summary: Phil tries to watch Netflix on his huge iPad in his tour bunk, but it falls on his face and causes him pain. Dan is there to make fun of him but also to comfort him.

Basically, it's just pure tour bus fluff.

like it's already said (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan and Phil spend an evening in the tour bus when everyone else is out.

natural. (ao3) - razussy

Summary: tampa, florida. known for plenty of things ranging from busch gardens to outback steakhouse. unlike the amusement park, however, there’s a certain drink phil’s been eyeing since he’s seen promotional advertisements on his nightly youtube sessions.

no but seriously imagine it (ao3) - natigail

Summary: It has been 15 years since Dan and Phil met. They wake up on the Terrible Influence tour bus in Las Vegas on their anniversary with plans to see My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy later that day.

Not a Lot, Just Forever (ao3) - angelpicnic

Summary: “'Do you think we’d find each other in every universe?'

Dan gave him a look – a you-know-I-don’t-really-believe-in-that-stuff look – but he could see in Phil’s sea-green eyes that he was being genuine.

'Yeah.' Dan said softly. 'Yeah, I think that we would.'”

Or, just a pure fluff fic with coffee in a Hello Kitty mug and a tortoise metaphor. There is literally no point besides sickeningly sweet domestic fluff. :-)

One single thread of gold (tied me to you) (ao3) - Lesbianphan

Summary: "Time, mystical time

Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine

Were there clues I didn't see?

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?"

Just a cute little fluffy one to celebrate the 15 years of Dan and Phil the best way I know how: through RPFing, of course!

silent and sure, keeping watch in the night (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: Phil has always loved being on tour. The adventure, the sounds of the tour bus, the way his quality time with Dan takes on a different shape. On the road between Oslo and Helsinki, he sees some beautiful stars through the bus window and wakes Dan up in the middle of the night to enjoy them with him.

The Death of Day In the Life: Dan and Phil in 2025 (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: In 2025, the Day In the Life series has been retired. It took them a while, but Dan and Phil have realized that maintaining boundaries with their audience is an enormous part of maintaining their own peace and health. This is not to imply that Dan and Phil's life in 2025 isn't worth waxing poetic about.

three of us (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Phil is ready to make the next step. Dan isn't so sure.

Set after Dan comes home from WAD.

you rocked my world and never left it (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: some sights, smells and sounds in Turkey, and the feelings that follow

You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid (ao3) - dead_little_lamb19

Summary: Dan is just fucking tired after the tour and stressed about their new plans for life. It results in a little fight between him and Phil on a Friday evening. But Phil always gets his way.

You're the only story that I've never told. (ao3) - DumbGayVampires

Summary: Watching him, Dan felt the familiar grudging affection that came with a lifetime in each other’s company…

[bubooo]

↬ rock candy

prev | 2 ↬ tomfoolery | next

cw: unserious death threats, kys jokes

✧ rocking facts :

the roomies have sleepovers pretty often! despite living together they’re all college students plus they work or have volleyball so all their schedules clash and they can rarely all five hang out together

kuroo and yn like to pretend they hate each other soooo much

don’t mind me slipping some sakuatsu in here,,, what can i say they’re silly

omi is at the same college + on the volleyball team with the rest of the guys he’s just not in the vb gc (there is a different gc with all the members of the team and probably another one atsumu made with omi and a few others in it, this one is just these five since they already knew each other via yn or being roommates) ((as much as i’d love to add him to the story he will not be getting a twitter or put into a gc, too many characters + i don’t feel like it 😓 but he’ll probably be mentioned a bit!))

yn and noya are so down bad for each other,,, they should kiss,,,

↬ a/n : guys i’m so fast like sonic making these updates. also i’m so torn on how long to make it bc i think like ten chapters is a reasonable amount for me but i feel like it’s too short idk what to do hrmdbdhdbhd anyways part three is like practically done so!! enjoy lovelies <3

# taglist : @eujoana89 @loveelylacey @walllflowerrrsss @le000xxgrd @punkhazardlaw @csbnova @jaynawayna @hyenagoated @lvtilzs @nbcvs @nyxlai @kazunish @dawnisatotalqueen (send an ask to be added !! for my sanity LMAO)