#wait why did this tag complete with pining

[acrosstheujiverse]

About Last Night…

【📂】 summary: every time you drink with choi seungcheol, you ask the same question—“what do you think of me?”—and every time, he laughs it off with a smile and calls you his precious friend. you pretend it doesn’t hurt. but after one blurry night that you can’t quite remember, everything starts to shift. he looks at you differently. lingers longer. and maybe, just maybe, he’s been waiting for you to ask him the same question—sober. 【🖇️】 pairing: oblivious!seungcheol x flustered!reader. 【💿】 genre: friends to lovers, slow burn, FLUFF (with emotional tension). 【🧺】 tags: mutual pining; drinking; drunken confessions; drunken kiss; teasing; soft angst; idiots in love; DIMPLES; (slight) jealousy. 【📦】 w/c: 2.4k+

📬 — author’s note ！i wrote this back in 2022 (11.05) and i'm FINALLY releasing it. °՞(ᗒ╭╮ᗕ)՞°

« main masterlist | (SOON) »

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“earth to (y/n)~” 

you were staring again.

“if you stare any harder, he might catch on fire.”

hands cupped around your face, elbows resting on the cafeteria table, gaze glued to the boy sitting across from you.

“is this some kind of psychic courtship ritual?”

choi seungcheol.

your crush. your classmate. your friend. the worst combination of all three.

he was lazily spinning his drink bottle between his hands, distracted, and completely unaware that your brain was currently running a highlight reel of all the ways you had accidentally—but very much wholeheartedly—fallen in love with him.

he was good at everything: basketball, speeches, essays, leading your class like it was second nature. he was sharp, reliable, annoyingly handsome, and then, to balance it all out, he also whined like a toddler when he was hungry and sulked when someone beat him at cards.

he was so full of contradictions, so good at getting under your skin, and so stupidly oblivious to your feelings.

... or maybe he wasn’t. maybe he knew. but if he did, he sure as hell never acted on it.

“i swear, the way you look at him... if he doesn’t get the hint soon, i will start drawing hearts in his notebook for you.”

“shht–! don’t jinx it, jeonghan!” 

jeonghan’s words finally pulled you out of your trance.

you blinked, cheeks warming, and sat up straighter.

he chuckled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you, then let out a long, dramatic sigh. “why do i feel like i’m the third wheel here?”

you always picked him first for group projects. always sat beside him at lunch.

always ended up next to him during class outings, festivals, dinners, parties.

it wasn’t even a conscious choice anymore. it just happened.

people had started teasing you about it. you always brushed it off with a laugh—blaming familiarity, comfort, convenience. anything but the truth.

but the truth followed you anyway—especially when you drank.

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your hangout tradition with seungcheol was sacred. casual, cozy, and dangerously routine. cheap drinks, shared snacks, music humming low in the background, conversations that dipped in and out of serious and silly.

and every time you drank together, the same thing happened.

“cheol,” you slurred, cheeks warm, breath just a little too quick, “what do you think of me? do you... have feelings for me?”

you always asked that question. like clockwork.

and he always answered the same way. voice syrupy-sweet, tipsy grin stretching across his face.

“my (y/n)-ieee~ you’re a very precious friend of mine. i like you sooo much. my friend~ hehe.”

you wanted to scream.

friend. precious, sure. but friend.

you groaned, dropping your head onto the table. he flashed you those dimples — his signature, unfair, heart-ruining dimples.

those damn dimples. i should’ve brought shades so i wouldn’t have to see them, you thought, bitter and foggy.

“ugh. again?” jeonghan’s voice filtered in, dry and unsurprised.

he dropped into the seat beside you with all the ease of someone flipping open a well-worn book. he didn’t even bother pretending to be surprised anymore.

“jeonghaaan,” you mumbled, half-whine, half-sob. “i’m losing my mind…”

“you’re losing your liver first,” he said, plucking the drink from your hand like a babysitter. “and for what? the same damn heartbreak on loop?”

“well. i’m not gonna argue with a drunk person,” he added, patting your head like a tired cat. “but honestly, (y/n)... you do this every time.”

you turned your face slightly to glare up at him with bleary eyes. “’s not like i plan it…”

“but you do it,” he said, gently. “like muscle memory.”

you blinked slowly, words swimming. “maybe if he knew… maybe… maybe then…”

“what? he’d suddenly realize he loves you back?” jeonghan asked, not unkindly.

you winced. “that’s mean…”

“it’s honest,” he said. “and i’m saying it now while you’re too drunk to remember how mad it made you.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the door opened.

familiar laughter. light, effortless.

your body stiffened. even drunk, even dulled, your senses still caught her the way a wound catches salt.

“uh-oh,” jeonghan muttered under his breath, sipping his drink like it was tea. “she’s here.”

younghee.

seungcheol’s childhood friend. the other person he was close to—so close it made something in your chest twist.

she breezed in like she owned the air around her, sliding into the seat beside him as if it were hers. her arm looped around his like it belonged there. her head rested easily on his shoulder.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t move away. just smiled—those dimples again—and let her stay.

your stomach twisted.

you told yourself it was fine. they were practically siblings. they'd known each other forever.

but she didn’t act like a sibling.

she touched him like it meant something. whispered things that made him laugh. she always knew where to stand, where to lean, how to fold herself into his space.

and the worst part? he let her.

he looked happy.

and it made you feel ridiculous. childish. petty.

but the jealousy still bubbled up anyway, thick and sour.

jeonghan followed your gaze, then sighed like this was his personal soap opera. “you really know how to pick a time for your breakdowns.”

“sh-she’s… so close,” you muttered, slumping further down into the table, as if it might swallow you whole.

“they grew up together,” jeonghan reminded you gently. “she’s always like that with him. it doesn’t mean—”

“i know,” you said, too quickly. too loud.

you winced at yourself, then tightened your grip on the edge of the table. “i know that. but…”

but you hated how easy it was for her. how she never had to wonder what she meant to him. how she wasn’t you.

“i feel like a joke,” you whispered.

jeonghan didn’t respond. didn’t need to. he just stayed beside you, one hand resting on your back. steady. quiet. there.

and across the table, seungcheol smiled like nothing had changed.

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jeonghan spotted you the moment he walked into the bar.

he didn’t even try to hold it in.

“oh, no way,” he laughed, loud enough for three tables to turn. “you’re actually wearing them.”

you didn’t look up. just raised your drink and sipped like nothing was out of the ordinary.

he slid into the booth across from you, eyes gleaming. “indoors, (y/n)? really? in public?”

“i’m committed,” you said coolly, pushing your sunglasses higher up the bridge of your nose.

“to being a menace?”

“to my healing.”

he snorted. “sure. healing from what? weaponized dimples?”

you didn’t respond—mostly because he was absolutely right.

and then, like fate had a sense of humor, seungcheol arrived. he placed his drink on the table, looked between the two of you, and paused.

“(y/n)... why are you wearing sunglasses? we’re indoors.”

you didn’t flinch. didn’t even blink. you simply pushed the frames higher up the bridge of your nose, silent.

he blinked at you, waiting.

you stared straight ahead, lips pressed into a flat line.

i shall never see those dimples of his ever again, you thought firmly. they’re simply too dangerous. i can’t take any chances. i might fall for him again… and again… and again.

he tilted his head, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “you seriously not gonna answer?”

“they’re prescription,” you said flatly.

“prescription sunglasses?”

you shrugged. “light sensitivity.”

jeonghan snorted so loudly he nearly choked on his own spit. you kicked him under the table. he doubled over, wheezing.

“worth it,” he coughed, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “you’re so dramatic. god, it’s inspiring.”

seungcheol just laughed, flicking your forehead. “you’re unbelievable.”

“i’m a survivor,” you muttered. “barely.”

and like every other night before this one, you sank back into the comfort of routine.

still too scared to shatter it.

still too scared to see what might be waiting if you did.

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you cursed jeonghan silently as you stared at your phone.

jeonghan🍻: hey, i’m gonna have to bail tonight. not feeling great. sorry, (y/n).

you frowned but said nothing.

across the table, seungcheol picked up his phone, unlocking it without thinking. the group chat was open.

he cleared his throat and read aloud, amused: “‘guys, seriously sick. gonna crash early. no hangout for me.’”

you glanced at the screen just as seungcheol scrolled. the next messages appeared:

seungcheol🍒: dude, you ok? feel better soon. jeonghan🍻: thanks man. (y/n), you owe me one ;)

jeonghan always hated missing your hangouts—but he hated your tortured heart even more.

and you were certain: he bailed tonight on purpose.

to give you space. to give you a sign. to push you, silently, toward the confession you kept holding back.

you rolled your eyes, lips twitching at the thought of his sneaky little plan.

seungcheol looked up, flashing that lazy smile, dimples and all.

“guess it’s just us then.”

you nodded, heart thudding, knowing tonight wouldn’t be like any other night before.

a few drinks in, you settled into the booth beside him, closer than usual. your knees brushed under the table, a quiet spark passing between you. your hand hovered near his, fingers twitching, until your pinky grazed his. once. twice.

on the third touch, your finger lingered.

his eyes found yours—steady, patient. you held his gaze.

“i think i’m gonna kiss you,” you breathed, voice barely louder than the music.

his breath caught too.

no laughter. no teasing. only a quiet, “then do it.”

your lips met clumsily, soft and short. a spark ignited—something crackled beneath your skin.

your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

instead of pulling away, your eyelids grew heavy. your head tilted, settling gently against seungcheol’s shoulder.

he let out a faint chuckle, warm and quiet, as you slowly slipped into sleep.

his fingers found yours under the table, squeezing softly, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile moment.

“sleep tight, (y/n),” he whispered.

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you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and one vivid flash burning behind your eyelids—the kiss.

your phone buzzed sharply against the table.

seungcheol🍒: we’re still on tonight, right? usual spot.

you stared at the screen, heart pounding. panic bloomed in your chest.

was it real? or just a drunken dream?

“ughhh,” you groaned, running a hand through your hair. “why don’t i remember?! this can’t be happening!”

you promised yourself you’d stay sober.

but one drink turned into two. the two became three. and somewhere in the blur of warm lights and soft laughter, you asked again, voice barely steady: “cheol… what do you think of me?”

he tilted his head, eyes amused but serious. “you always ask me that.”

you blinked, confused. “what?”

“every time we drink,” he said, voice low. “you ask me that question.”

your heart skipped a beat. “and you always say the same thing.”

he smiled, but it was small. almost sad. “do i?”

you stared at him, desperate. “cheol…”

then a flicker of mischief crossed his face—a smirk just barely there—and you pointed at him, eyes wide. “YAH—CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!! you remember something, don’t you?!”

“maybe.”

you rolled your eyes. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

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you were already seated when he walked in—library quiet, sun warm across your table. he waved at you, dropped his bag into the chair across from yours, and settled in like it was routine. like this was just another afternoon.

his phone buzzed.

he glanced down, smiled faintly, and picked it up. “hey, younghee. yeah, no, i can’t today. rain check?”

a pause.

“mhm. okay. take care, kid.”

he hung up, set his phone down, and turned back to you.

your expression must’ve betrayed you—because something in his eyes changed. softened. sharpened. knowing.

“what?” he asked.

you shook your head. “nothing.”

he tilted his head. “you’ve always been weird about her.”

“i’m not—”

“you are,” he said, without judgment. “and it’s okay.”

you stayed quiet, unsure if denying it again would make it worse.

“she’s like family to me,” he continued. “like a little sister. not someone i’ve ever liked like that. not even close.”

your breath stalled.

“but you…” he looked at you then, really looked. “you’re not like that.”

you blinked.

“just wanted you to know,” he said softly. “i figured maybe that’s something you needed to hear before anything else.”

the warmth in your chest spread slowly.

quiet. certain.

you nodded. “thank you.”

he smiled.

“now,” he said, leaning back, “wasn’t there something you wanted to ask me?”

and so you did. “cheol?”

“yeah?”

you took a breath. “what do you think of me?”

he set his pen down. leaned back. looked at you fully. “don’t ask me again unless you want the truth.”

your heart skipped. “…i do.”

his smile was soft, almost shy—but it didn’t waver. “then here it is: i’ve been falling for you for a long time.”

your fingers trembled slightly on the table, still curled around your iced coffee. your heartbeat was wild in your chest.

he wasn’t teasing. wasn’t hiding behind dimples or laughter.

just him.

and his answer.

“you’re not drunk, right?” you whispered.

“not even a sip.”

you nodded slowly. “good.”

“you okay?” he asked.

“yeah.” you let out a shaky smile. “just... kinda hard to believe i’m not imagining this.”

his hand brushed over yours, warm and steady. “you’re not imagining it.”

you laughed under your breath. “can i say something embarrassing?”

“please do.”

“i’ve liked you for so long it stopped feeling like a crush. it was just... you. always you. all the time. everywhere.”

his grip tightened gently. “you think that’s embarrassing?”

you looked up. “it’s not?”

“(y/n)...” he leaned in. “i’ve been waiting for you to ask me sober.”

you blinked.

he smiled. “you asked so many times when you were tipsy. i wanted to answer differently. but i didn’t want you to forget.”

“i’m not gonna forget this time,” you said, voice steady.

“good.”

and then—finally—he kissed you.

not clumsy. not rushed. not a maybe.

his lips found yours with quiet certainty. it was soft, slow, but deepened like gravity had always been pulling you toward this moment.

your fingers curled into the sleeve of his hoodie. his hand cupped the back of your neck.

and when he pulled back, just barely, his voice dropped: “no more pretending, okay?”

you smiled.

“okay.”

- fin.

[...epilogue]

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt I good omens but i've never watched it

i've never seen good omens but it's all over my tumblr dash so this is what I've gathered can someone please confirm if i've got it right

there's a demon named crowley

there's a biblically inaccurate angel named aziraphale but like it's very sexy when the demon calls him 'angel'

the demon and angel have been married for 6000 years and they still keep looking at each other all sappily

Neil Gaiman is somehow involved, I think he's the writer but also he's on tumblr (uh, @neil-gaiman) and people keep questioning if he's real

is neil gaiman like a fandom inside joke why is everyone asking if he's real

there actors are called michael and david and amazon prime thought they were the same

there is a bookstore and crowley is sad

they kiss and it is very nice and desperate and crowley says we could have been us. i have no context for this. someone is going to heaven i think.

there is a god, i'm not sure if they're good or evil though

the demon wears sunglasses

it's a comedy but for some reason everyone's crying after whatever the last season was, are you guys okay

things are on fire

they are very gay

there was a book and at one point they switch bodies

more fire and crowley screaming

they are called ineffable husbands i dont know what that means

they fight crime or they do crime or they fight crime by doing crime i really cannot remember which

gay

[yan-randomfandom]

Hi! Is it possible to get a platonic Yandere Stanford with a teenager reader? The reader likes mysteries and monsters and all that just like him, so Stanford sees them and he’s like ‘yup. That’s my kid now’ lol

P!Yandere!Stanford Pines & Teenager!GN!Reader

warnings: violence(toward monsters), implied abuse

[THIS IS PLATONIC] I think I made this a tad too long... it's not even in bullet form anymore. thank you for the request! I love your idea sm 😭 [Word Count: 1047]

Stanford Pines has completed another mission. He lifted his head, his eyes squinting at the sight of the looming trees. The sun peeked between them, visibly on its way down.

To keep it short, he had to chase a dangerous, vile monster into the woods and take its life.

He probably saved thousands of lives. It's just that... it came down to the price of being lost. Ford has never gone this far from Gravity Falls before.

That's totally okay. Curious, even! This is perfect material for his research! He'll have to use a makeshift one for now—this cheap notebook he got from the gift shop.

As he was about to start writing, a panicked roar reverberated throughout the forest. Such strong growls—enough to blow away his clothes and body! Ford had to see it with his own eyes!

He ran and ran until he finally saw the giant. A single, widened eye stared at him, and suddenly he couldn't move anymore. Heavy breaths rose and plunged from his chest.

But he didn't have to worry any longer. A figure hopped down, continuously slicing the middle part of the eye as they descended.

Ford grunted, falling on his back as its blood squirted and leaked, even having some splatter on his nose. He watched the monster turn and run away, knowing that it'd die soon enough.

"Woah! Grandpa, you okay?" A small hand filled Ford's vision. "You froze up pretty quickly. I bet you'd be dead if I wasn't here!"

Once his vision finally cleared, he paused at the sight of a teenager. He's never seen this kid before. Ford cleared his throat, accepting your hand and standing up. "I'm fine. And don't call me that."

You hummed, tilting his open wallet with a nod. "I dunno. Being in your sixties sounds pretty old to me."

"What? How— When— Give me that!" Ford swiped his wallet out of you, to which you respond with a silly grin. He scoffed, crossing his arms. This is such a Stanley thing to do. "Who are you even, kid? Why are you out here?"

"I'm out adventuring!" you declared, placing your fists on your hips. You do certainly have equipment fit for an adventurer. "I mean, did you see me back there? Killed that monster with one swipe!"

Ford rubbed his chin in deep thought. He smiled. "That was pretty impressive. It reminds me of my nephew. You've gone straight towards the monster's weak point."

Unbeknownst to him, your face starts heating up from the praise. You've never received positive reactions from your oh-so-dangerous hobbies. "Well, yeah! It's no big deal. Eyes are usually common for being weak."

Ford chuckled. "Anyway, do you know the direction to Gravity Falls? I may be a little lost."

"Course, duh! It's like... that way! Opposite of the sun," you grinned, pointing behind him. He turned around to check, his shoulders slumping. You touched his nose with a grin when he looked back at you. What a Mabel type of personality. You were really just removing the monster's blood, though. "Boop!"

...Okay.

One glance at the sky, and Ford knew that there's no way he's going to go home at this time. While he loved adventuring, especially at night, he's still in undiscovered territory and would very much like to go home in one piece.

"Alrightnicetomeetyoudude! Byeeee! Good luck!" you exclaimed, already waving at him and walking away.

Wait! You're his only ticket out!

"Pray tell, kid, are you alone? Don't you have guardians or friends tagging along?" he asked hastily.

"Naw. I have parents waiting for me back home, though," you smiled.

Ford somehow convinced you to bring him home to yours.

Now, you stood in front of your house with him by your side. The older man couldn't help but notice that you looked a bit anxious, weirdly enough. You're scratching your arm.

The door finally opened. The first thing Ford saw was a frustrated face of an older woman, which was swiftly wiped when she took note of his presence. How odd.

"Oh, sweetie, who's this with you?"

"Found him in the woods! Isn't he neat?"

"Let's talk for a bit. Please give us a moment," the woman smiled at Ford, grabbing you before closing the door on him.

Ford awkwardly stood outside the house, checking his watch. Faint voices reached his ears. That's your mother, yes? She sounded upset. You sounded upset. He hasn't been in this dimension in a while, but would it really be so bad to take home a man you haven't met? He's just literally lost!

You opened the door. He froze when he met your tear-filled eyes.

"Sorry, whatever-your-name-is. I can't let you in," you muttered meekly. "But you can wait for me tomorrow. I'll help you go home. Bye."

The door closed. Why were you crying? That's not right.

Next day.

Ford waited for you on your front porch, mindlessly writing in his notebook. He had to sleep on a makeshift cushion of laundry. It wasn't the worst place to sleep, and he's just glad he didn't get caught.

"Good morning! You're early today!" you beamed, already walking.

"Is there anything I should know about your parents?" he deadpanned, trailing next to you.

You got uncomfortable quickly. "Uh, next question? Hey, look, a parasite! So weird!"

"Don't touch that! I can't believe it ranges up to here!"

The journey towards Gravity Falls felt long and tiring. But it simply made you and Ford closer.

"What's your name again?"

"Ford. Just call me Ford."

"For— Holy shit! I didn't even notice earlier! You have five fingers and a thumb!"

"Please—" he hid his hand in reflex.

"Six cylinders on your hand! That's so cool, Ford!"

Ford simply sighed, a smile growing on his lips.

Eventually, you both reach the mystery shack.

"Woah... That's yours? No wonder why you're so used to being in the woods. You live in one!"

Ford chuckled, opening the front door. "I can safely say you're going to get along with my family, kid."

...

You paused, hesitating. "I can't. I have to go home."

...

He smiled sweetly. "Not even for dinner? It'll be quick."

Your stomach growled quite loudly, causing your cheeks to heat up. "Okay, fine. Maybe a little."

Stepping right into the shack, Ford shuts the door behind you. He can't let you go back in that godforsaken house. You looked too miserable.

You can be happy with the Pines family here.

[andcars]

# 𝗠𝗩𝟯𝟯 ─── GAMER MOMENTS MASTERLIST⠀REQUEST ME⠀TAGLIST⠀PATREON GUIDE⠀AO3

YOU'RE A MINECRAFT STREAMER and get in contact with some new guys. one of them won't stop bullying you. it's kinda silly how he acts like he's being subtle that he's trying to flirt with you.

TAGS. . . # fluff, bullying as flirting, pining max verstappen, 'oblivious' reader, minecraft streamers

FIC STYLE. . . # social media au (instagram chats, tweets)

zsync

ty FSMP for having me. that being said, hopefull i didn't give too much of a bad impression to some of ya'll....

liked by albonono, grussell and 7,742 others

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stellaroit i MISSED A ZSYNC STREAM?!?!?

orrifices RIP it was a funny stream

stellaroit what happened the vod isn't out yet

rudemi played minecraft in a new friend group and just decided to cause chaos towards this other streamer the entire time

angeleles who the hell is this lion33 dude and why did he have to hog all the wheat

divissx CHAT THE FURNACE IS NOT FURNACING!! highlight of the stream

lion33 mate i need u to leave the smp

albonono You're just jealous she got all the diamonds in the main island

lion33 completely unrelated

zsync (i'm not) sorry max

ynpng

chat i am not washed at minecraft

liked by alexalbono, georgerussell and 219 others

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georgerussell Disagree

ynpng like i ASKED

alexalbono Slay

alexalbono Btw why're u off priv do u know that

ynpng yessir

alexalbono Suspicious

alexalbono Are you joining the server soon. Max is annoying me

ynpng stop hogging my comments + maybe idk i'm still bitter abt him killing my cows

lion33

appreciate @ albonono for letting me on his stream. i do have his password now btw

liked by albonono, grussell, zsync and 13,611 others

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zsync WAS THAT WHY ALEX WAS JUST MUTED THE ENTIRE TIME?? IT WAS YOU??

lion33 lol

albonono @ zsync he was enjoying receiving flowers from you too much

lion33 your base? exploded.

shouula i love having a pov of max smiling like an idiot when yn was treating him like alex (aka kindly)

vrikrik real. yn is living the y/n life. what i would do to make him smile like that

albonono If u wanted to flirt do it on your own stream I literally went to piss

lion33 ???

massuech dude this is the weirdest softlaunch ever

zsync @ zsyncc · 28 October i'm never playing this game again

141 replies 881 reposts 1.8k likes

Max V @ lion33 · 28 October — Replying to @ zsyncc ur being dramatic lol my house was griefed i needed somewhere to stay 41 replies 331 likes

mia 🕸 @ webberstrr · 28 October — Replying to @ lion33 just say you wanted to put your beds together in minecraft and leave 2 replies 6 likes

EVE @ eeves1 · 28 October so we agree that max and yn were flirting the entire thing right

14 replies 7 reposts 63 likes

EVE @ eeves1 · 28 October — Replying to @ eeves1 i don't like rpf but it is kinda funny how max was goading yn on like a kindergarten with a crush 3 replies 7 likes

zsync

my beautiful house before it was INVADED BY THE DUTCH (also here's the mirmir bath pics ya'll begged for)

liked by albonono, grussell , lion33 and 7,742 others

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pineeapper KITTYYY

lion33 you could've just said no

zsync would u have taken no as an answer?

lion33 no haha this is what u get for stealing my diamonds

littelorrenst chaotic stream as always

piapastry no one else gonna question the weird domesticity of her and max? no? ok

albonono Why're you reposting the mirmir pics from your "priv" account

zsync because i can

lion33 what? u have a priv?

Yn | You are now private messaging @ ynpng 142 followers · 521 posts

lion33 this isn't private lmao

ynpng no i just took it off priv for a bit

lion33 oh. ok btw like do u wanna film something tgt soon

ynpng yea sure why not

lion33 cool cool yea friday?

ynpng sure

lion33 shared a location

ynpng huh

lion33 where we can meet. alex told me you live near me so

ynpng wait omfg i thought u meant like stream

lion33 oh it's ok if u want it to be just a stream like minecraft or smthn

ynpng no no its okay. i need new vid on my main yt anyways

lion33 u sure? lol it's ok if u dont wanna film irl w me

ynpng stop being such a hard ass maxy. i say yes to filming

lion33 cool. thanks btw i really like ur videos 👍

zsync

causing chaos in the toy store in my new video. thank you @ lion33 for featuring and being my slave for the day

liked by albonono, grussell, lion33 and 64,147 others

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wiiredxs never thought id get to see max doing an irl vlog willingly

hamiston who messed with the timeline why am i seeing max and yn tgt

vrikrik RIGHT like max flew a plane just to film this video 😭 they live in diff continents

lion33 sighs

albonono Your flirting technique sucks

lion33 shut the fuck up

orrifices am i delusional is this not the equivalent to teasing ur friend over his crush

grussell Yn, I hope you're seeing this

zsync seeing what

grussell Crikey...

Yn | You are now private messaging @ ynpng

georgerussell I don't wanna be the bearer of news... But Max has a crush on you

ynpng that's crazy dawg

georgerussell Okay I need some more reaction than that Me and the guys' GC have been talking about it ever since the first FSMP stream

ynpng whattttttt he's whatttttttt

georgerussell What in the Have you like known this the entire time

ynpng George. The man is a Monaco based streamer. I do not live in Monaco. He told me that Alex said we live near each other. I can kinda tell when people have a crush...

georgerussell And that's just your reaction!? I still expected something!

ynpng ill give u a reaction if he does something more obvious in the next stream

zsync @ zsyncc · 8 November fsmp birthday stream 2nite y'all. wish me bday luck i need netherite

568 replies 7k reposts 12.9k likes

EVE @ eeves1 · 8 November alright are we ever going to talk about how max (and im entirely sure it's max) put netherites in yn's chest like that was so cute...

27 replies 142 reposts 628 likes

♠ | FIO @ butt3fl1es · 8 November WHY DID I ENTER THE STREAM TO MAX MAXPLAINING ABOUT MONACO BOYS NOT BEING FUCKBOYS!?!?

WHAT IS HE YAPPING ABT

16 replies 7 reposts 88 likes

#33 @ quetoii · 8 November someone needs to tell max his cam is still on everyone can see him giggling after yn thanked him for his gift

23 replies 98 reposts 218 likes

dumb blonde moment @ jaccalps · 8 November — Replying to @ quetoii it's his fault anyways like no one streams minecraft w their cam on for maximum laziness

2 replies 6 likes

ynpng 🔒

@ lion33 thanks for the present! and you, I guess. but seriously, you need like better courting skills. my nephew could do way better than you and he's 3yo

liked by alexalbono, georgerussell and 327 others

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alexalbono I'm sorry, courting!?

ynpng if bullying me counts as courting yeah

georgerussell ... No one won the bet

lion33 this is why you don't start a bet

georgerussell Mate, no one expected you to try and get with her like two weeks when you first met

ynpng ok to clarify, we are not dating. he's funny and he's rich so im letting him try

layladook girl whyre you a red flag 😭

lion33 my fave color has always been red

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . ok so i decided to do like my tweets as the text so it was easier for me to make this + less images uploaded. feel free to tell me if it's better or bad from how i used to do it before. anyways this was funny to write. i love minecraft. i love that max loves minecraft. it's just a bunch of tomfoolery around here also, my birthday is actually on the 8th so lil easter egg lmao ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

──── 📨 @delululeclerc @hiireadstuff @bicchaan @fallingforpvris @rtorresblog @tribbisweetdear @jamie2305 @mv1simp

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

[wwinterwitch]

feels like fate – joel miller

summary: you've had a crush on joel for quite a while now and you suspect that he might feel the same, hopeful that something happens at the new year eve's party

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

tags: tons of fluff, mutual pining, reader is a kindergarten teacher, age gap (wrote this picturing joel in his 50s and reader in her 30s), maria, drunk!dina, ellie and jesse briefly featured

a like and/or reblog is always appreciated!

all masterlists | pedro pascal characters masterlist

You feel like a complete fool walking into that New Year's Eve party, not really anticipating just how mortifying it would be to walk through those doors after spending a ridiculous amount of time doing your hair and your makeup...just in a silly attempt to impress a guy.

It felt almost unreal to you. Something so incredibly out of your character. Yet here you are, dressed to impress, making your way further inside as some people that knew you started acknowledging your arrival. Thankfully, everyone you make eye contact with offers you a friendly smile as you walk past them, which helps to ease your nerves.

Most of the people that greeted you were parents of the little kids you teach at the local kindergarten, a colorful building next to the new library. Aside from your job as a teacher, you really don’t stand out much. You tend to keep to yourself, with modest amount of friends and an almost inexistent love life. 

A few dates here and there over the years... casual flings that never really led anywhere...nothing remarkable. Eventually you just didn’t care about that aspect of your life, already used to the same couple of guys trying to get your attention here and there. Nothing that was worth getting excited for.

But that's until Tommy Miller's brother showed up.

That man somehow found a way to turn your world upside down from the moment the two of you met. He caught your eye almost immediately, and even though you could be wrong, you're pretty sure you made a good first impression on him too.

Why else did he offer to fix that light in your front porch when he heard you complain about it with a neighbour, just to then show up at your house a few days later asking if it was working properly now? And why would he sometimes stop by at the school when all the kids are going back to their houses to have a chat with you? It's not like he's the most friendly person either, so why would he bother with you, right? Right?

It sounds ridiculous– maybe a bit embarrassing, too. To let your brain convince you he might like you back. That you’re somehow special enough to break all of the barriers Joel has seemed to build up over the years to push people away. That you could steal his heart just like he has stolen yours. Well…there’s really no harm in fantasizing about all of that.

And yes, you sound completely delusional, but it truly feels like fate. You've never felt this way about anyone before, and you still struggle to comprehend how you ended up in this situation. How exactly did he manage to slip into your heart like it was nothing? Like it’s been waiting for him all along? One day you're shaking hands with a complete stranger and before you know it, you're unable to get him out of your mind.

But maybe you are delusional, and that's why you took extra time to get ready tonight in hopes of Joel noticing the efforts you've put in looking like this tonight. Perhaps he won’t notice. Perhaps he won’t even show up.

You keep walking, looking around for someone familiar enough to strike up a conversation. That’s when you notice Maria walking towards you, a grin on her face.

"Looking good," is all she says, her tone oddly suggestive.

You immediately feel self-conscious, trying to avoid eye contact as you clear your throat. "Thanks."

She could tell you started to feel nervous, so she immediately tries to be reassuring. "I really do mean it, by the way. I just couldn't help teasing you."

"Is it too much?" you ask, slightly panicking. “It is, isn’t it?”

"Absolutely not," she replies almost immediately, like you just said the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard. "Do you feel like it's too much?"

"Well...I don’t know, but I like how I look."

Maria smiles at that, nodding. "And that’s all that matters. If you like how you look then it's absolutely perfect." She takes a brief pause before leaning closer, smirking. "And I'm sure Joel will like it too."

"W-What?" you asked in shock, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "I don't–"

"Oh, please! Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. You two always look at each other like you could quite literally start drooling at any second...heart eyes and everything. It's almost sickening," she comments in a playful voice, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I, uh..."

Before you can answer properly, you locked eyes with the one person you were expecting to see tonight. He has just entered the bar all by himself, looking a bit lost at first, brows slightly furrowed. Then, he notices you’re there at the party, and a soft smile immediately appears on his lips.

"Yeah, that's the look I'm talking about," Maria muttered, right before placing a hand on your shoulder as a way of saying goodbye. "See you later."

You immediately turn to look at Maria again, watching as she walks away to greet other people. Panic sets in when you realize you’re all by yourself once again. Not knowing what else to do, you look down at your hands, fingers nervously fidgeting, very much aware that Joel is walking towards you. It's ironic how the initial desire to be seen by him has somehow turned into the urge to become invisible. You've always been more confident in your head, definitely not anticipating what it would actually feel like to be here in this scenario and how you'd truly react.

His presence is practically overwhelming at this point, forced to look up at him now that he's standing before you. As you take a look at him, you can't help but notice he's done some effort tonight as well. His hair is brushed back and the nice smell of his cologne almost makes you want to lean closer to him.

"Hi." He's the first one to speak, making you that much nervous when you notice his eyes travel down your form. He clears his throat as soon as he realizes what he's doing, immediately looking up. "You look...you look great."

"Thanks, Joel," you reply, a soft smile on your lips. "I was wondering if you were gonna show up tonight, since these types of events are not really your thing..."

"Oh, yeah, well..." he shrugged, staying quiet for a few seconds while he tried to come up with something else to say. You could tell he was nervous, which made you smile even more as you waited for him to continue. "I guess I'm...trying new things. Step out of my comfort zone."

Before you could say anything, the two of you are interrupted when you hear someone nearby. "Dude, this is embarrassing to watch! I told you he's got no game!"

You turn around just in time to see Ellie and Jesse telling Dina to shut up. She giggles as she wraps an arm around the other girl that stands next to her, and her movements let you know she's had a lot to drink already.

Ellie and Jesse look embarrassed that they got caught eavesdropping, although you could tell Ellie is trying very hard to hold back her laughter. "Sorry," the guy says, looking at Joel with an apologetic look on his face.

That's when Dina realizes what's happening. "Whoopsie," she giggles again, dragging Ellie and Jesse away. "Sorry, Joel. Good luck!"

You can't help but laugh at the situation, watching the three of them walking away, noticing how Jesse's lecturing Dina while she keeps clinging to Ellie and trying not to stumble on her own feet.

When you turn back to look at Joel, you notice a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment on his face, barely able to even make eye contact with you anymore. "I'm so sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," you replied almost immediately, knowing you had to say something else to make the situation between you less awkward. "I believe they’re having a good time."

Joel smiles, watching as the trio walks off. "Dina definitely is," he points out. "Can't say the two babysitters look like they're enjoying themselves that much."

"Yeah, that's probably true. Poor kids."

There's a brief silence, not necessarily an awkward one, but you can tell he wants to say something else. Eventually, he speaks again. "How have you been?"

"Fine. I mean, just the usual. A lot of the kids wanted to have a bonfire soon to celebrate the new year, but I still haven't started planning all that. Maybe I'll ask some of the parents for help."

"Sounds fun," he says with a soft smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"You can be in charge of the hot chocolate."

The little joke makes Joel laugh. A true, genuine laugh that makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Hey, if that'll make me useful, I'm in."

You can't help but keep smiling at him, feeling so incredibly giddy. Is this perhaps what Maria was talking about before? You probably have the exact same look she was describing earlier.

Almost as if you were in some cheesy romantic movie, the cheerful music drastically changed to a much slower tune, noticing a bunch of couples deciding to start dancing together. Joel seems to notice what's going on too, but doesn't dare to acknowledge it, silently watching a couple that walk past the two of you.

Hesitant at first, you eventually decided to test your luck. What’s the worst that could happen? "Would you like to dance?"

The question definitely took him by surprise, quickly turning back to look at you. "What?"

You had no problem repeating yourself, letting out a soft giggle. "I asked if you wanted to dance with me, Joel."

"I don't really–"

"You said you're stepping out of your comfort zone," you remembered, which makes him grin. His usual playful grin that makes you feel like a teenage girl developing her first crush all over again.

"That's really outside of my comfort zone."

Trying to encourage him, you reach out to grab his hand as you start walking towards the other people dancing. To your luck, he doesn't hesitate one bit as he starts walking with you. "I promise it's not as difficult as you probably think it is."

The two of you find a spot in between all the couples dancing and you turn around to look at him. Despite feeling incredibly nervous at this moment, you knew he probably feels even worse right now, agreeing to something you suggested that he probably hasn't done in years. It's only fair that you take the lead for now.

You could feel his body tensing slightly when you place both of his hands on your waist before placing yours around his shoulders. With a reassuring smile, you start softly swaying from side to side, hoping he'd follow your lead.

"See?" you say cheerfully when he immediately starts imitating what you're doing. "It's not difficult."

He nods swiftly, looking down at his feet. "I guess," he mutters, his extreme concentration to every single one of his movements making you laugh. "I don't want to step on your shoes," he says, letting out a nervous chuckle right after.

"You're not gonna step on my shoes," you reassured him, and that's when he finally looks back up into your eyes. "You're a natural."

He shrugs, looking slightly more comfortable now. "Or maybe I just have a really good teacher."

The comment makes you playfully roll your eyes. "And to think Dina had the audacity to say you have no game."

Joel laughs at that, shaking his head at the memory of that little incident that took place a few minutes ago. Rather than replying right away, you feel his hands move to the small of your back, gently pulling you closer to him. "So you disagree with her?"

"Maybe. I'm still not sure."

You can see something shifting in his demeanor, looking a lot more confident than ever before. He pulls you close until you're resting your chin on his shoulder, heartbeat rising when you feel his beard tickling your neck and his big, strong hands still firmly placed on your back.

"How about now?" you hear him whisper. In that moment, your knees could've easily given in and make you lose balance. He's really getting comfortable now.

You were unable to speak at first, simply hugging him tighter. A few people around you couldn't help but stare, probably intrigued by you and Joel's evident display of affection. Of course the possibility of a new couple forming in town would peak their interest, especially one so...unpredictable.

Joel's not necessarily a very approachable person, and he definitely looks quite intimidating. You, on the other hand, are known as the sweet kindergarten teacher all the little kids talk about with so much affection. It really is an unexpected pair.

Snapping out of it, you remember what Joel just asked you. "Now...I might disagree with her."

He chuckles against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Good," he says, right before moving back enough to lock eyes with you again.

You both dance together in silence, simply looking back into each other's eyes as you enjoy the proximity and undeniable chemisty. Like you have said in the past, it feels like fate. Somehow, in this doomed world, you were meant to find each other.

"You look so beautiful," he says out of nowhere, smiling down at you. "Early when I got here...I wanted to say you look beautiful."

"Great's also a nice compliment." He's still looking back at your first interactions tonight, feeling critical about his approach then. You didn't want him to feel like he did something wrong, or that he could've done things differently.

Joel nodded. "But that's not what I wanted to say," he insisted. "I'm sorry I was weird earlier. This whole thing is...it's just been a very long time since I've felt this way."

"And how exactly do you feel?"

He notices your little smirk, which inevitably makes him smile back at you, immediately noticing your playful tone. A few seconds later the smile on his face disappears, replaced by a serious expression. "Like I've finally found someone that makes me want to give love a second chance," he says, sounding incredibly sincere.

At first, you don't really know what to say, your heart instantly melting at his words. All you can do is smile, trying not to get visibly emotional, because this is truly fate. This all feels like it was meant to be. As crazy as it might sound, you can easily see yourself falling in love with Joel, spending as much time as this godforsaken world grants you next to him.

Last thing you wanted was to leave him hanging after what he said, quickly snapping out of your thoughts once again. "I think I'd like to give this a chance too."

You could see Joel's entire face light up after what you just said, like he has been waiting for you to say something along those lines. He presses you closer to him, right before leaning down for a kiss.

Sharing a kiss with Joel is exactly what you expected and just so much more at the same time. It almost feels like fireworks are exploding all around you, no one but the two of you existing at that moment. It's so sweet and gentle, yet so incredibly passionate. Is it possible to feel this much just with a kiss? Perhaps this is exactly what it feels like to connect with your soulmate.

As soon as you pull away, you could feel a lot more people staring at the two of you, but all you could really focus on is Joel. There's absolutely nothing else that matters more right now.

"I bet Dina doesn't think you've got no game now," you joke.

Joel quickly scans the room searching for the girl, smiling softly at something before looking down at you again. "I believe she's distracted right now."

Intrigued, you turn around to look in the direction Joel was just seconds ago, noticing Dina and Ellie dancing together. "I didn't know they were a thing."

"Me neither," Joel replied. "I mean, I knew there was something going on with Ellie...poor kid's awful at hiding her feelings. I wasn't sure if Dina liked her back, though."

"Well, it looks to me like she really likes her back."

Joel shrugs playfully. "Us Miller's, you know? We're kinda irresistible."

"Please, don't you ever say anything like that again," you laugh, immediately shaking your head. "It gave me actual chills."

He laughs back. "Sorry," he whispers, leaning in for a quick kiss as he stops dancing. "But you gotta admit it's true."

"Stop it," you warn him playfully.

"Fine." He stops himself for a few seconds, uncertain, before speaking his mind. "Uh, so I was thinking...it's movie night at the old theater tomorrow, so maybe we could go together."

"You'll get me popcorn?"

Joel looks offended by your question. "Of course."

"It's a date then," you reply. This time it's your turn to lean in for a kiss. It's like you could spend your entire life kissing this man. You're addicted already.

He nods in agreement, taking your hand to guide you out of the dance floor. You really didn't care where he was intending to go, you were just happy to get the chance to spend the rest of the party by his side.

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part One)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: lots of wade in this one but no wolverine just yet!

tag list: @allmyn1ghts, @oscarissac2099

Masterlist//Next Chapter

Not Ok

Flashes of images invaded your mind. You were in a tank, arms restrained to your sides as the oxygen was slowly sucked out of the chamber, suffocating you. Your nails digging into the leather cushioning beneath you as you try to claw your way out.

Now you were strapped to a table, an array of needles embedded into your arms and legs as you were injected painfully with all kinds of different things you weren’t even sure of.

You startled awake before the sound of your alarm had a chance to rouse you from your sleep. Groggily you run a shaky hand over your face before rolling over to grab your phone checking the time. You still had about 3 hours before it was time to get up and get ready for work. Knowing you most likely weren’t going to go back to sleep, not that you wanted to anyways, you toss the covers off of you and head to the bathroom.

You turn the water of the shower on, waiting for it to heat up as you stand back up you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror, taking in your disheveled appearance you sigh as you lean over the sink.

There’s visible dark circles under your eyes from being torn from sleep countless times over the last few months. You were sure why the nightmares had started back up again, it had been years since you had been freed from the Weapon X program so why was it all coming back now?

Pulling your tank top over your head you quickly undressed and hopped into the shower. The water cascaded over you, the warmth a welcome relief. You closed your eyes, as you felt your tired muscles slowly start to relax under the soothing spray. Lathering up your soap on a loofa you quickly washed and dried yourself putting on ample amounts of makeup to hide your dark circles.

Once dressed you sat down at your little table in the kitchen and helped yourself to a bowl of cereal as you checked your phone again.

So much shit was happening in the world, genocides, corrupt politicians running for power, starving children. It was all you saw anytime you opened up anything and it was all too much. The world was going to complete shit

You lock your phone and check the time, you still had about an hour before work. Slipping on your shoes you grab your keys and your bag and head out the door nearly bumping into Wade who was munching on a bagel in the hallway.

“Jesus fuck Wade!” You said placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

“My bad pookie bear. Didn’t know you worked today.” He said with a shrug adjusting his wig as he did so.

“Almost every day this week.” You said with a sigh rubbing a hand down your tired face. You had been doing that a lot lately. “God I’m so tired.”

“I hear OnlyFans is really popping off right now.”Wade said but it was hard to tell if he was joking or not with his straight face.

“Yeah? So what, you and Vanessa can be my only subscribers?” You snorted with an exaggerated laugh.

“I know for a fact Colossus would pay top dollar for a sneak peak of your toes!”

The sound of your ex's name made you grimace. Not that you had any ill will towards him, you were both still good friends albeit a bit awkward now that you’ve dated for a short time, but you still didn’t want the thought of him anyway near anything sexual you did.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Wade said taking another bite from his bagel and you two walked down the hall together.

You start to rub at your forehead as you felt a headache coming on as you walked, another occurrence that had started to happen more and more often.

“More nightmares?” Wade asks, his voice laced with concern as he watched you.

“Yeah…but don’t worry about it Wade.” You could handle yourself, a few ibuprofen and you’d be fine.

He calls your name, as if to say it’s too late not to be worried about you, but you wave him off as you dig around in your backpack for a second before pulling out a small black envelope.

“Happy birthday by the way! You’re hard as fuck to shop for so I hope you like it.” You smile at him as you hold out the gift hoping to change the subject.

With an exaggerated gasp Wade tosses his bagel behind him and holds up his hands up in surprise before taking the envelope from you, and ripping it open. Inside were two tickets to a Celine Dion concert, one of his favorite artists.

“Oh my-!” He starts with a gasp “I didn’t even know she was touring!” He cried excitedly as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“Yeah I had to basically stalk Ticketmaster for those so you’re welcome.” You said returning the hug.

“Sugar booger! I love it!” He said releasing you.

“Now you just gotta figure out who to take with you.” You said as you bump shoulders with him. “Maybe Peter….oooor I don’t know maybe a certain someone we all know and love who works at a particular strip club that we like to visit on occasion?”

“Peanut…” Wade warned, you held up your hands in surrender. It was like a kid trying to get their divorced parents back together.

“Look, all I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to ask her.”

“I’ll think about it.” He says quietly as he stares out deep in thought.

With that the two of you part ways, wishing each other a good day at work, Wade heading for his bike where Peter was waiting and waving at you, and you heading toward the bus stop.

Work at the pet shop was the same as always, mundane and mind numbing but it paid the rent so who were you to complain about it. You had your fair share of zooted teens coming in to ask dumbass questions and waste your time as well as the occasional fish snob who complained about the size of your tanks but all of that was typical of a normal day and honestly made it go by quicker. By the time you realized what time it was it was time to clock out and head on home to help set up for Wade’s surprise party.

Once home you dropped off your bag and changed your clothes putting on a loose fitted t-shirt and jeans with a cardigan before heading over to Wade’s place with a bunch of drinks. You didn’t drink much but everytime Wade went out on a “business trip”, as he called them, back in his Deadpool days he’d bring you back a bottle of something.

Inside Wade and Blind Al’s apartment across the hall, many of your mutual friends were already busy at work setting up for the party. Colossus Ellie and Yukio were busy blowing up balloons and decorating while Dopinder Buck and Vanessa were busy setting up the food spread.

Looking around yourself you felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips, all around you were the people you and Wade loved the most and you were incredibly lucky to have them in your lives after everything you all had been through over the years. A pang in your chest made you hold a hand over it and your smile dropped. Something still felt missing though and no matter how hard you thought about it you just couldn’t place what it was.

“How you doing sweetheart?” A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. Whipping around you were pulled into a tight hug by Blind Al.

“I’m doing alright.” You smiled weakly “How’d you know it was me?”

“I’m blind not deaf sweetheart,” she said “ain’t nobody else here sighing that hard but you and Wade and Wade’s not here yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Your dreams still giving you trouble?” She asks as she leads you further into the home.

“I wouldn’t say dreams, more like night terrors but yeah they are a little.” You say as you place the bag said booze you bought on the kitchen counter and follow Al to the living room where she seated herself comfortably in her recliner. “It’s nothing to worry about though.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter baby.”

For someone who was blind Al sure could see right through you sometimes.

“I’m probably just stressed is all.” You try to downplay the situation but Al wasn’t having it.

“It’s been months.” She says matter of factly.

“It’s been a stressful few months.”

“Look… I may not have been there when you and Wade went through what you went through in that program but it’s over now. It’s done and that Ajax guy can’t hurt you anymore.” She said resting a hand in her arm gently.

Al hadn’t been a part of the Weapon X program like you and Wade had been but that hadn’t stopped him from telling her in excruciating detail about all the horrible shit you both had gone through during it.

“I know Al I just-“ you start but stop not fully knowing how to describe what you felt. “I just wish I could switch my brain off, just hit the reset button and be done with it but I- can’t get the memories outta my head.”

“I know sweetheart it’s gonna take time but time ain’t gonna do shit if you don’t let people in to help you.”

You knew she was right but you’d be damned if you’d admit it out loud.

“When did this turn into a therapy session? I thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“Smart ass.” She said tapping you on the leg with her cane. “Go help Vanessa make the jungle juice before he gets home. I’m gonna go see if that dumbass has any Bolivian marching powder left in his stash.” With that she stood to her feet and went to her’s and Wade’s shared bedroom

“Oh Al come on! I thought you guys were done with that.” You called after her with a frown.

“Not till I’m dead babygirl.” She called back and if she could you think she’d wink at you.

Back in the kitchen you and Vanessa make quick work mixing and setting up the drink you bought making light conversation as you do so.

“So-“ she starts off but pauses as if deep in thought for a moment.

“So?” You ask curiously as you take a sip of the alcoholic punch taste testing to see if it needed anything.

“You uh seeing anybody new yet?” She asks.

You nearly choke on your drink in surprise.

“N-no I uh no I’m not.” You stuttered trying to compose yourself. “Are you?”

“Y-yeah there’s this guy. I met him at work, he’s kind.”

You could tell she was lying, but didn’t speak on it.

“Y’know, I hear Colossus has been talking about you to Ellie a lot lately.”

Here we go again you thought.

“Oh nah hard pass we tried that dance already didn’t really work out.” You waved her off, but she continued anyway.

“I’m just saying he’s a nice guy, and he’s big, like everywhere, and made of metal, that’s like totally your thing. Remember when we saw the Winter Soldier and you wouldn’t shut up about Bucky’s metal arm?”

Not she was calling you out.

“Just think about it hun, you're always stuck up in your apartment or at work, you’re lonely and I think a little human connection would do you some good.”

“Yeah alright I’ll think about it.” She smiles at you before caressing your cheek, like she was the big sister you never knew you had.

“But only if you think about giving Wade another chance too.” You slip in “Deal?”

She contemplates for a moment before she smiles back at you again. You knew she still had feelings for the man and so did he.

“Deal.”

Before either of you could change the topic of your conversation the front door opened up again, this time revealing Peter and Wade.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted as Dopinder Ellie and Yukio threw confetti into the air.

“Oh you guys!” Wade gasps dramatically. “You’re lucky I’m not armed!”

“If this was five years ago you’d all be dead.” He laughed as he went around hugging everyone.

The party went on without a hitch. Wade intermingling with everyone as he was passed around the room. You stayed in your own little corner as you watched sipping on your third drink for the evening. Parties weren’t really your thing but for Wade you’d endure them when you had to. Just as you were about to move to get yourself another drink you spotted Wade and Vanessa talking quietly amongst themselves in the kitchen hovering over the punch bowl. With a smile just glad they were finally talking to each other you thought it better not to disturb them for the time being.

Soon after however you all found yourselves piling into the kitchen as Wade called for everyone to come and cut the cake. Wade snapped a few pictures on Yukio’s Polaroid, making some cheesy speech about how lucky he was to be surrounded each and every person he ever loved in one room, something you rolled your eyes at even though you had found yourself thinking the same thing just earlier, before going to make a wish blowing out his birthday candles as he did so.

The party continued to progress throughout the night and the stuffiness of all the bodies in the room was starting to get to you. Excusing yourself from conversing with Buck and Peter you step out into the hallway for a moment to try and get some air. Your head felt like it was swimming, probably from all the alcohol and not enough food, and you were starting to feel nauseated as a pounding sound hammered through your skull. Eventually you decided to take a step outside to get some actual air to see if that would help.

After a handful of greedy gulps of the fresh night air you finally decide to return to the party before anyone came looking for you. Once inside your hallway you spotted Wade first, but he wasn’t alone this time. Surrounding him were at least 5 guys all dressed in black body armor and masks with weird electrical looking batons in their grasps. Immediately your defenses rose as you silently crept up behind them.

“Oh peanut, you came back! I’d offer to let you join in on the orgy but I don’t think this guy here’s down for sharing me.” Wade quips as he sucks on a breath mint leaning on his doorway. His comment drew most of the men’s attention towards you but not before he drew it back to himself. It seemed that they could care less that you were even there. “He’s got this whole hate sex, love 'em and leave' em vibe going for him right now.”

“Shut your mouth clown!” The guy in the front snaps as he goes to grab Wade by his toupee. Just as he grabs it an orange doorway opens up behind Wade and a pair of arms reach out pulling him inside causing his hair system to get ripped off.

“Wade!” You shout as you sprung into action, using all your weight you shove two of the guys causing the three of you to fall through the strange orange doorway just before it closed behind you.

[delusionalalien]

[Embrace You, Devour You] [Chapter 6] YANDERE!Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader x YANDERE!Variant!Invincibles

Ain't no way i'm just hearing about one of the fanfic authors on a fanfic site who i looked up since i was like what? 15? 16? outed for being a kiddie liker bro, i cant- IM SCREAMINGGGG💀💀💀💀

Note: I hate this chapter, its garbage as usual, and i hope y'all prepared that block button fr

prologue

previous chapter , next chapter

T.W / Tags: Slow-burn, Soft yandere, pining, mark is bat shit crazy but he good dw, baby-trapping, teen pregnancy, yandere variants, mark a lil pushy, breeding kink, jealous Mark Grayson, talks of abortion, misunderstandings, possessive Mark Grayson, murder, gore, child-murder(variant!readers), attempted suicide, murder-suicide(variant!readers), OOC, longing, yandere!mom, prob need more tags

Mark misses you so much ):

Vanessa did not do an oopsy at the end <3

Mark felt the world beneath him crumbled in an instant.

Nobody blamed him for what happened, no one yelled at him for something he couldn't control. Yet, he skimmed through the what ifs in his head. Haunting him ever since he saw you in that state.

What if he stayed with you?

What if he never rode on that bus alone?

What if he offered to wait for you after class?

Then maybe, just maybe, all of this would have been prevented. You wouldn't be hurt, you wouldn't be unconscious in that hospital bed with all those bandages wrapped around you while he drowned in the noise of your fathers endless sobs in the hallway leading to the operation room.

He was your best friend, why wasn't he there when you needed him the most? He can't recall what he was even doing prior to the call.

Mark left the hospital utterly wrecked, dragged away by his parents telling them he didn't want to leave your side until you opened your eyes. Apologizing that he wasn't there for you, Nolan had to physically restrain him as he sat him down at the back of the car.

Mark turned over and sat up from his bed. He looked out his window to stare into your room. It was dark, eerily so, gone were the lights coming from your television that he had was used to seeing. He noticed that your window was slightly ajar and he moved.

He knew it was wrong to suddenly jump in your room without your permission, he knows it was even more wrong when he laid in your bed, tightly holding onto your heavy blankets and pillows closer to him. Inhaling the lingering scent you had on them, he found himself sinking further in the sheets where your musk was stronger.

Instantly he felt calmer, he felt safe, like you were in the same room with him. Mark found comfort in your smell, finding himself falling asleep, imagining you were next to him with your arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace.

Mark felt utterly hopeless as he longed for you. Wanting and needing you at the same time. The plant in his chest blossomed uncontrollably and he mourned for your absence to end. To come back to him and hold him like you never want to let him go.

How strange, he thinks, it felt like the seed have already been planted in his heart so long ago.

Mark fell asleep surrounded by the smell of you.

"I miss you (nickname)..."

-

It was the next day. Mark was completely out of it, he dazed off more ever since your absence and William was beginning to think his entire world just fell apart- actually it might have.

You and Mark never did stray far from the other. Taking slow steps when one of you lags behind, PE was horrendous when you three got in back in 6th grade, you two could not be separated, even if different teams you both we're insufferable.

Now William would be lying if he said he wasn't mad. Not at Mark, rather at Rebecca. He had always hated White and her cronies since they were kids. She might not remember it but he absolutely does.

Rebecca was originally Williams bully.

She made fun of him for playing dolls when he minded his business with some girls playing make believe house. However that switched when both you and Mark transferred. You stood up to Rebecca and told her to buzz off only for her to push you down on the sand, before being dragged away by the calls of her mother and getting on in those fancy ass cars you see in movies.

Instead of dusting off the grime that got on your clothes, you turned to him and smiled. Continuing like nothing ever happened and you never let her near him again. Mark becoming a second wall to protect him.

He was friends with the two of you ever since then. Forever thankful for your act of kindness.

And he wasn't going to lie, he was beyond pissed off to what happened to you when he got word of it from a mutual friend of a friend.

So imagine everyone's horror when he, who stood by in the sidelines for so long, threw his entire lunch tray at her face.

He wasn't apologic about it either.

"Girl," He eyed her up and down in judgement he didn't just started a war, "That outfit? Suits you, not even lying."

Rebecca stunned for a moment shot up from her seat and only ended up tripping on her feet when her foot caught on the edge of the seat.

He snickered, he places his hand over his mouth before he pretends to be concern.

"Oh my god, is the floor okay? You didn't harm it when you fell right?"

"You!" Rebecca hissed.

"What the hell! Do you know how expensive this shirt is!"

William rolled his eyes crossing his arms while she picked herself back up.

"Honestly, I think i just made the outfit a lot prettier. Your shirt? eyesore material, do you even have a fashion sense?"

If Mark wasn't paying attention, he was now.

One moment he was dozing off with a spoon in hand, poking at the mash potatoes while he thinks of you and if you had woken up by now, the next he stood between William and Rebecca, holding him back as they went a full on brawl at the cafeteria.

"I know you did it, you dumb bitch! You sent her to the hospital because of your jealousy! You hurt my best friend!" William screamed and Mark shakes his head, even if it is true, William shouldn't be acting this way- if what he reasons in his head.

Mark definitely wanted to smack her or two in the face the more he looks at her.

"Get off me!" Rebecca struggles at some guys that helped to break up the fight.

"This is not over, Clockwell!"

"Fuck you and your green eyed monster!"

"William, calm down-"

Needless to say both William and Rebecca was sent to the office after.

Mark waited by the stairs in front of the school entrance, missing the way you called to him at the end of the day. God, he felt miserable and out of it. He had dozed off so much that he hadn't realized class ended and he sat there like an idiot waiting for something to happen.

if only he had stayed with you, offering to wait so you both can just walk back home instead he lets you be, and he felt he was at fault whenever he recalls waving at you from the window with William.

He had watched you walk back in.

And watched you come out on a stretcher and into an ambulance.

"Fuck Rebecca and her rich ass parents."

Vanessa and William came back out.

Despite everything that happened. Your mother offered to be William's guardian since they couldn't go because of strict job stuff Mark wasn't interested in.

William, with cuts and bruises on his face, grumbles something incoherent and Vanessa took Mark and him to the car. Mark noticed that something in your mother's attitude seem to shift compared to when she arrived, it wasn't noticeable since it was quite subtle, but Mark caught the way she seems almost too, happy? like she can't wait to go home.

Mark shakes it off. Probably nothing and forgot about it.

"How was the meeting?" Mark questions.

"Ugh, Rebecca keeps spinning the story saying, i swung at her first, like? I didn't! She attacked me first with those, ugh, long talons of hers- and btw i'll admit, her nails are pretty." William rambled on and on about what happened in the meeting.

Rebecca's mom turned up instead of her father. Comparing both interactions between the two, it was clear Rebecca adores her mom more than her dad.

"Her mom keeps denying what she did, you know? Like I'll be honest, i wanted to slap her too." William whispers the last part to Mark's ear.

William had boldly claim that Rebecca and her cronies are the ones who put you in the hospital not even a nano second of the meeting starting. Vanessa was wide eyed when he said it but composed herself as she listen in.

"You children alright back there? Just so you know William, your house is not far." Vanessa's accent made both boys realized how quiet they've become, exchanging whispers as if they're planning on a heist.

"Oh yeah, thanks Mrs. Aguilar. By the way, i heard from Mark that (Name) was moved into this super strict and expensive private hospital and i was wondering if i could drop by?"

Vanessa thought about it, tapping the stirring wheel looking eyeing William in the mirror. Mark already knew the answer but kept his mouth shut.

You we're moved to the pentagon for better treatment last night when he was asleep in your room, thankfully he managed to wake himself up and sneaks himself back into his room before anyone noticed, his mom said they couldn't just go there to visit you since they needed permission or his dad to fly them over there.

The only time he's ever going to visit is when you move back to a more normal hospital.

"No."

"Oh, come on! I'll make sure she ace her math exams when she gets back! Promise!"

Vanessa actually thought about it.

"... Tempting, a good bargain, but it is still a no."

"Aw come on!"

-

A deal with Cecil means selling your life to the devil himself.

Vanessa knows the risk, knew what she signed up for when she struck that deal with Cecil on the phone. She wasn't blind nor deaf, he's been wanting her to be a weapon ever since her father's demise.

The details of their agreement sealed away in a box forever inked in her name.

In exchanged for everything she needed, she had sign the rights for her life, her powers belong to the GDA now, used for whatever he deems it fit to use.

A card is what she is.

Not an wildcard, no, never an wildcard, she was too stubborn to be one, Cecil would risk everything is she was the wildcard in Cecil's plan against the common foe. Too predictable, too infamous.

They need someone quiet, someone who didn't bring attention whenever they walk in the room- all these useless thoughts ceased when they made a moved.

She spot a car leaving the mansion. Where are they travelling to so late in the night?

A couple at the front. Sadly no child sitting on the back. They seem to be arguing as they drive.

Shame that their daughter didn't join.

Vanessa thinks old habits die, she shouldn't be this excited for this and should be reconsidering her actions, yet here she was grinning in sadistic pleasure of the idea that pops into her head. If she wanted to make the kid to pay, she'll have to pay in a way that'll hurt them back, ten-fucking-fold.

Rebecca loves her parents, right?

As for Cecil? He lets it, just as long as it was only the target she ended tonight is the one the government wants gone.

Two bird with one stone. He says when he gave her the green light.

Who knew the biggest runaway drug boss lived in their neighborhood? Color her surprise when a hit for his head was presented to her and served in a silver platter. No excuse and just do it, nice and clean.

And while she trail after the car, she waits for the opportunity to flip it over and drown them on the river.

Just the dad, Stedman instructed, but the mother should go to, right?

After all according to her files and what she saw in the meeting earlier when she took the opportunity to find the culprits,

Rebecca loves her dear old mom,

oh,

so,

much.

-

Note: Williams hands are rated E for Everyone. I don't usually pay much attention to anyone's mannerism other than the events that's happening in the series, so yeah, ooc characters <3 mostly head canons in my head. All i know is William is pretty funny and quite sharp with his tongue so i tried???? to base off his entire character from that. dunno if i even got that right

idk man, im just delusional as hell

[m4iya]

⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 Order up! Matcha green tea, 100% sugar, 100% ice with black pearls and coconut jelly for @frosted-flakes!

Collab? Kenma Kozume (fluff, post high school, mutual pining + forced proximity)

Your phone had been blowing up with notifications all day since last nights stream. Who knew your viewers would get so heated over a couple jokes? Heck, was it even your viewers? It seemed more like the ones that were freaking out weren’t actually watching for the full context.

Well, that’s what you said every time. It kept them watching, right?

Though, being tagged in rants and comments wasn’t the only thing happening this time. You were receiving an absurd amount of messages from viewers as per usual, but also from other streamers and influencers. The most common words present within all of them being:

“Guess who mentioned you in their stream last night!”

This time, it felt a little different from other controversies you’d been wrapped up in, so you couldn’t help wonder who this mystery person was, and what you had done to earn yourself a mention.

One scroll on your timeline told you just about everything you needed to know. A post sat at the top of your feed; a video captioned “@/mc of all people?’

Clicking on it, a clip of someone’s stream began to play; a QnA of sorts.

“Kodzuken, will we be getting a collab with anyone soon? Can you drop any names?” The streamer read aloud before pausing to think.

“Hmm.. there’s a few things in the works, but I don’t know for sure when they’ll be out.” He replied, absentmindedly flicking through the questions on another monitor.

He paused for a few seconds before continuing to speak. “I’m not the best at reaching out to people, but I’d like to see what kind of content I could make with @/mc. She’s pretty funny.”

Proceeding to continue with other questions, he completely ignored the way the comments blew up at him.

Out of every streamer you knew, he had to be the absolute last person you’d have expected to even have any idea of who you were. You'd been watching his content for a while, having seen him at influencer events and such. Though, you'd never been able to approach him at any of them, often using 'I was talking to my viewers, that's why I couldn't approach him' as an excuse to yourself.

Even though it wasn't exactly your objective as an online personality, you figured that controversies and out of pocket statements would be one way to get his peoples attention. It wasn't like you were exaggerating your personality per se, you were always pretty outspoken, so the only extra steps would be recording or streaming your antics.

Even though it looked like it worked, you had no clue where to go from here. Would you send him an email? Or a message? And what would you even collaborate on? What would happen to his view count if he did make content with you?

You tapped onto his profile on Twitter, scrolling through his recent posts as you wondered what to do. Suddenly, a notification popped up on the top of your screen: A message request.. From him!

Kodzuken hey, this is @/mc, right?

You had a pretty large following, and he had mentioned your name in his stream. Staring at the message for a few seconds, you wondered if he was trying to be funny.

MC u really aren't the best at reaching out to people lol and yeah thats me

Your messages maintained an air of nonchalance, hiding the way your eyes were peeled—waiting for his next response, your heart thumping loud enough for it to reverberate through your ears.

Kodzuken thats a little mean anyways i'm assuming you saw my stream in that case so how does a collab sound?

MC I'm not too busy tbh I should be free next week. u sure u wanna collab with me? ur viewers will probably freak out over it

Kodzuken my channel not theirs 🙄 what do you wanna do for the stream?

MC something simple maybe some type of challenge? are u free to call so we can set it up?

Kodzuken give me a sec ill call you

Your hands shook in place, palms sweaty as you waited for him to call you first.

When your phone eventually rang, you let it sound for a few seconds, clearing your throat. Answering the call, you held the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" He spoke first, his voice being exactly how it sounded on stream.

"Hey!" You internally sobbed over how that might've sounded.

And so the conversation began to flow, the two of you brainstorming ideas and details about the collab. It would be held on his channel, with you editing the stream into a video for your own channel. Before the two of you hung up, he asked for your number so he could send over his address. You wondered why he couldn't just send it over DMs, but your heart was already racing too fast for you to even bother asking.

You got to work immediately, organising your schedule and allocating time to buy the things you needed. He said he had most of the basic things already, but to make things funnier, you suggested a couple ingredients that you'd buy yourself. The idea was to hold a cake baking challenge with odd ingredients. Without telling each other what flavours you were using, you needed to decorate as nicely as you could, and you'd taste each other’s dessert at the end. One of you will guess incorrectly, and the penalty will be to post something on the other's social media account after the stream.

You both agreed not to do anything rash, but also not to plan or rehearse the ending too much. It had a mix of the chaos that was usually in your content, and the viewer interaction that he'd implement in his own. Preparing things behind the scenes, you both kept each other updated until the day arrived, and you nervously made your way to his place.

Standing in front of his home, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door. You heard the shuffling of slippers from the other side, stopping abruptly at the front door.

"Who is it..?" A voice groaned from the other side.

"Um.. me?" You nervously answered.

A faint gasp sounded from the other side before a flurry of steps took off, leaving you wondering what just happened. Could it be that he forgot that you were coming over today?

He returned around a minute later, opening the door immediately. You noted how crinkled his clothes looked, his voice as though he'd just woken up. The skin of his face was dewy—freshly splashed with water, the evidence visible on the hoodie he wore. It wasn't the one he usually had on in his streams.

"Sorry about that." He muttered, attempting a chuckle. His laughter definitely didn't come off as nonchalant, not with his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

Though, you definitely weren’t feeling too confident yourself. Your hands were clammy as you bent over to pick up the bags that you brought with you which contained the things you'd both be using in the stream.

"I'll help." He quickly offered, taking the things in his own hands with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Butterflies. Your stomach churned in a way that it hadn't done since high school.

Following him inside, you realised how big his home was, surprised that he seemed to live alone. As you walked to his kitchen, he gave you a haphazard tour, which was limited to the rooms you both passed. He steered you away from the direction of his own room, telling you that it was 'just a little messy right now.' Looks like he really was asleep.

Once you reached the kitchen, it surprised you to see his camera and tripod already prepared. He placed the bags down on the counter, walking towards his setup.

"Should I set up my stuff as well?" You asked as you pulled it out of one of the bags, having brought it just in case.

"It's fine, I'll send you the footage." He replied.

With that, you prepared the materials you'd both be using. He provided the bowls, spoons and mixing tools. You handed him an apron and wore your own, giggling at how he struggled to wear it despite it being so simple. You offered to tie it for him and he did the same, even though you were more than able to do so yourself. You lifted your arms as he took the fabric around your waist to tie it, gently weaving one piece over the other.

"Is that too tight?" He asked. "Want me to loosen it?"

"Yeah, just a little."

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as he spoke from behind, helping you with this short, mundane task. Things were all over the place today, and you weren't sure how you'd get yourself under control.

The two of you went through a few more things, and soon began the stream. You greeted the viewers, and introduced yourself to those who didn’t know you.

And so the stream went on, unfolding much more differently than you had initially expected. It seemed that the people who were criticising you had either stuck around to see what would happen, or had simply left.

You cracked jokes with each other while mixing your ingredients, using the mystery flavours that you had poured into separate bottles last night—so tired that you could barely remember what was in them.

At the end, you both decorated the cakes together in an attempt to make them as appealing as they could be. Yours was coated in red frosting, and you used white buttercream in a thin piping tip to write out his name in cursive on the surface of the cake. His was haphazardly covered in pink frosting, purple polka dots shaped from fondant scattered over the surface and the sides. He had decorated the edges with sugar pearls and rainbow sprinkles, running out of time before being able to write your name on it.

Cutting each other a slice, you both took turns tasting it. You could barely contain your laughter as he cut into his—the centre was so moist that the knife he used was coated in batter as he removed it from the cake. You opted to eat a piece of the edges instead.

Exaggerating your reaction, you coughed, walking off camera to grab a drink of water. The ingredient he had used was chilli, and it wasn't settling well with you at all. His laughter echoed through the room as you drank from the cup of water; probably because of the slightly exaggerated reaction that you had rehearsed with him before the stream in the case that he happened to choose something spicy.

As he took a bite of your slice of cake after you had returned to the stream, his face contorted; confusion? He chewed once, then paused, scrunched his eyebrows, and continued chewing.

"Is that—" He coughed. "Is that coffee?"

You could barely contain your laughter at his reaction. Well, he wasn't completely off. It was coffee, alongside a couple different spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and.. well, you lost count after the first two.

"Not exactly! Wanna try again?"

He held his nose bridge, 'deep in thought'. You both knew that one of you needed to get it wrong to go through with the penalty. A few obviously wrong guesses later, it was decided that he'd be the loser. After talking to the chat a little, answering some questions and interacting, it was revealed to them that you'd soon upload a video on your channel, which would contain extra content, and that the penalty post would also be up on his account. With that, he concluded the stream, slouching over the table with a sigh as you took a seat on one of the tall stools, picking at the cake he had made.

"At least the frosting tastes good." You laughed, taking a spoon of it.

"Yours wasn't actually too bad," He muttered. "Just.. very flavourful."

The situation suddenly set in; it was now nighttime, and your belongings were scattered everywhere. How were you supposed to just pack up and leave? That same feeling from earlier was now completely overwhelming you as you felt your face warm up. What exactly was going on? Keeping your eyes on the slice of cake, your face began to heat up. In your peripheral, you noticed his head turn.

"You okay?"

“Just a little tired,” You smiled, avoiding his gaze. “I should probably get leaving soon." Reaching behind your back, you fiddled with the knot in an attempt to untie it. The quicker you could pack up, the quicker you'd be out of this mess.

Though, even the apron wouldn’t budge at all no matter how hard you tried to undo it.

"Did you superglue this or something?” You chuckled, exasperated. “It’s so tight!”

"Oh,” His head perked up. “I loosened the first tie, but I double knotted it just in case." He stepped towards you, offering to fix it yet again.

"All done." His hands reached over to the collar, lifting it over your head to which you pulled it down, folding the apron in your lap.

"Guess I'll do yours as well?"

You stood from the chair as he turned his back to face you. This was definitely something he could've done himself. Though as you fiddled with the fabric—in the deafening silence of the room, the way his breath suddenly hitched became overly apparent.

At this point you honestly couldn’t tell whether it was yours or his who’s breathing you were hearing. Your eyes scattered as undoing the fabric of the apron was the last thing you were thinking about right now. It was a little late to be realising this, but he was much taller up close than he seemed online, and given the way the apron wrapped snugly around his body—he was also a little thinner than you imagined. Not to mention the stray hairs at the nape of his neck that had escaped from the bun he’d made.

“..Are you done?”

Shoot. Who knew how long you were standing there with your gaze scattering everywhere? You quickly untied the knot with a single swipe, and he lifted the collar over his head, handing it to you. As you reached out to take it, you noticed how tightly he held it, seemingly not wanting to let go. It did seem a little out character for him to be so forward—having been the one that initially reached out to you first, inviting you over and being completely unlike how you initially perceived him. Not that you had thought he was mean, he just didn’t seem like the type to be so outgoing.

Or maybe it was motivated by something. Maybe the small patches of plush pink painting his cheeks, the way his lips were slightly parted so as to prepare himself to speak, his gaze focused on you for the first time today—maybe things were a little different for him as well. You for one knew yourself, being well aware of what you’d been going through today.

“..Do you have something to say?” You prodded, teasing although your voice was small, shaky, and laced with nerves. You definitely weren’t in any place to be picking on him.

He cleared his throat, gaze leaving yours once more. “..Do you have plans tomorrow?” Your eyes fluttered to his slender hands, their grip loosening as he spoke.

“No,” You replied. “I had nothing planned for this week other than—well, this.” Taking the apron from his hands, you set it on the counter. His hand moved to brush a loose strand of hair out of his face, “Do you live far?”

“A little.” Your car was parked outside, but you weren’t the biggest fan of driving at night, and alone as well? Not happening—not unless it had to. “But I drove here, so i’ll just-”

“You can stay the night.” He interrupted.

“No, I can’t—really-“

“I have space for another person.”

“I don’t even have a change of clothes!”

“I have spares.”

You were surprised that he’d offer something like that, and double down on it as well. Well, his place was huge; but you didn’t i expect him to go around telling random people they can stay over. Especially when he’s only met them once. He was now stacking the dishes in the sink, yawning as he did so.

You couldn’t help tease again, stepping towards him. “So you actually want me to stay over?”

He clicked his tongue, turning on the water. “And if I do?”

That.. wasn’t what you expected to hear. You couldn’t see his face, but the redness glazing the tips of his ears told you that he’d probably been going through the same things as you all day. Well, it was more than just today for you; and you wondered the same for him.

extra:

“Hey, we forgot about the penalty!” You recalled, slipping into one of his spare hoodies.

He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair as he scrolled through his phone, opening the camera. “Sit over there.”

“Here?” You took the seat on a chair in front of his setup, crossing your legs. The two of you giggled as you set up the photo, with him directing you to wear his headphones.

You took the photo of yourself, throwing up a peace sign, and captioned the post ‘get used to this face, ur gonna be seeing it a lot more’.

Watching the replies immediately come rushing in, you laughed together. It definitely wouldn’t be the last time you’d both record something together.

from my 100 followers event ✩ other works

[neuvilette-tea-party]

｡ﾟ•┈୨ Le temps de guérir Part 3 ୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Steb x F!reader

Part 1 - Part 2

You almost have a heart attack remembering your mentor and secret crush is now your unfortunate roommate, what else life has in store for you now, heh? Probably nothing more, surely...

Tags: Angst/comfort, fluff, pining, Steb definitely has guilt and PTSD, slow burn, forced proximity, bed bugs, shared shower, inadvertently erotic contact, community, oh no! there was only one bed!

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

You stretch with a grumble, feeling a headache approaching. You lay down your arms with a deep sigh, observing your bedroom, sniffing with the lack of order all around. Books, clothes, and a dirty plate on the ground. 

You have to clean all that... 

You yawn as you lazily go down your stairs, scratching your tummy, barely seeing in front of you with your eyes still full of sleep. You immediately head out to your kitchenette to prepare a well-needed warm coffee. 

You are in full zombie mode, in complete autopilot as you pour the water in and dose the beans. You yawn behind your hand as you lay against the counter waiting for the coffee maker to heat up when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. 

You jump out of your skin and almost trip on your feet. 

“Dear...! Steb!” You shout, your heart sprinting in your ribcage like it would burst out any second, “Wha... Why are you here?!” You ask, flabbergasted. 

He freezes mid-signing like he doesn’t know how to explain what is evident while all comes back to you like a punch in your guts. 

The war, the kiss, the tension, the movie, your new roommate... 

You facepalm yourself as your heart calms down slowly. 

Dear gods, why did you have such a stupid idea? You berate yourself, hand on your knees 

Steb looks at you, not knowing how to help without worsening the situation. You feel him put his hand on your shoulder delicately, unsure. 

“It’s all right, It’s okay. I’m fine.” You temper with a thumb up, “Thank you Steb, it’s okay.” You stand back straight with a deep sigh, grounding you, “I’m fine, I promise!” You smile at him. 

He slowly nods, releasing your shoulder, a hand scratching his neck. 

“Have you been awake for a long time? Did you eat?” You ask. 

He shakes his head. 

“Oh Steb, you shouldn’t have waited for me like that. You’re at home here, you can rummage around and make your favorite breakfast, I don’t mind.” You explain, opening your cabinets, “What do you want? I can cook for you.” 

He immediately shakes his head and hands. 

“Taratatatatatata, mister. You are my guest, it’s my role to take care of you! I make killer chocolate chip pancakes, you’ll see!” You take out your large bowl and eggs. 

Steb immediately signs you his intention, before scratching his neck. 

“You don’t have to help, you know.”  

He sharply shakes his head, notifying you that he won’t back down. 

“Okay, okay, well... I don’t have chocolate chips anymore, do you mind cutting the chocolate tablets?” 

You both wash your hands and start working. 

You gulp, feeling yourself fidgety next to him. You give quick glances as he slices the tablet expertly with your big knife, clearly at ease with a blade. Your worktop is so small that you regularly hit each other elbows, creating knots in your stomach. 

Steb is unaware of your turmoil and is fully focused on his task to make the best chocolate shards ever! 

You whisk your dough until it is all shiny and liquid, mix everything, pour it into the hot pan with a cube of butter, and cook them. You flip them with your spatula when you notice Steb scratching his side with a wince, making you frown. 

You serve the golden pancakes on two plates while Steb takes some topping off the cupboards and you go to sit and eat. As you push Steb’s plate toward him you see him desperately scratching the back of his neck with gritted teeth. 

“Why are you scratching yourself like that?” You ask, looking at Steb scratching his arm. 

He shrugs but winces in clear discomfort, never stopping the scratching. You squint at him and gasp. 

“Steb! You are red all over!” You skirt the table to approach him and pull on the collar of the baggy shirt. 

Sure enough, his neck is reddish and swollen as he scratches so much, and spreads all over his arms and surely his entire torso. Rashes all over his beautiful green scales. He picks up something off his neck and examines it between his two fingers, squinting. 

His eyes round up and he jumps on his feet, grabs your hand, and pulls you on your feet, sprinting up the stairs. You can’t ask a single question he pushes you inside the bathroom with him and starts undressing before your very eyes. 

You look at him, not knowing what to do about all that or yourself. Once he stripped down to his boxers he turns to you with a serious gaze and approaches his hands from your clothes. You slap them away immediately. 

“What is this all about?” You demand. 

You’re not about to let him undress you like that! Not without a nice drink first! 

He looks dead serious as he signs. 

“Zaunites bed bugs?!” You choke. 

No need to tell you twice, you start undressing at once!  

Disgusting little bugs! 

Steb opens your buttons, helping you out before you throw all the clothes in the washer and turn it to the maximum temperature. 

You are now both practically naked in the same cramped room. But frankly? You can’t give a crap, those critters are a real nuisance! 

Steb grabs your arm and enters the tub, pulling you with him. He seizes the shower head and blasts you with fuming hot water. You sit on your ankles as he visibly knows how to treat the problem and lets him soak you, he scrubs your hair vigorously to drown the disgusting little bugs. 

Yurk! 

You feel his large hand traveling your body as he searches for the nasty critters, hearing a low growl emanating from the aquatic Vastaya behind you.  

You are not especially knowledgeable on bugs, but each year Piltover and Zaun have an invasion of the creatures, and outside of devouring any fabrics of a house, they spread a lot of blood diseases, sometimes mortal ones... 

You mentally slap yourself as you realize your undergarments are now see-through... That became a habit quickly, huh?  

Steb turns the water off and makes you spin towards him, pulling you back on your feet. You try with more or less success to modestly cover yourself but his eyes are so deadly focused, like during your missions together, you understand that he does not realize the situation himself! 

His mind is focused on getting rid of any bug on your skin right now. 

He frowns, turning your face at every angle, his ears shaking in anger. He lowers himself before you as he inspects your chest, your tummy, and your legs, pinching the skin here and there. His face is right at the same level as your groin region.  

You gingerly cover the region as naturally as you can, but as a perfectly professional Medic, Steb doesn’t register that detail, fully focused on his medical task. 

He manipulates your limbs with great precaution, his ocean eyes scanning your exposed skin like a robot. 

You do not disturb him in his task, only fidgeting your fingers. It turned weird really fast, exactly as you predicted! You reject him, invite him to live with you, watch an erotic movie, and end up practically naked together in the same tub... 

If the god playing with you could take a five minutes break, you would appreciate... 

He finally nods to himself and helps you get out of the tub. You take out a clean towel and scrub your body after checking it while Steb repeats the operation on himself, blasting fuming water on his scales. 

He took you by such surprise it did not occur to you to tell him that you did not feel itchy at all... But better safe than sorry! 

Coughing, you open the window for fresh air and for the steam to escape. You rummage through your cabinet until you find an old lemon perfume. 

The lemon and the alcohol repel those little monsters and you vaporize it all over your exposed body. 

You try to put some in your back when Steb exits the tub and comes to help. He takes the bottle and gently applies a layer on your back, delicately massaging the skin with the perfume. 

“Thank you. Turn around, I’ll do your back!” You announce, agitating a pair of tweezers. 

Steb sits on his ankles on the ground as you kneel behind him, tracing his scales to find the parasites. Those little bastards love nudging themself between two layers of scales, you take out five sipping well-hidden but dead, fortunately. 

You meticulously inspect his large back, moving his back fins around delicately like a paper sheet but each time you brush them a strange shudder shakes his shoulders, his chest trembling slightly. It must still be sensitive after his wounds, you press your lips.   

“I think it’s go-Oh my Lord they are some in your gills!” You notice as you inspect his back neck. 

You trace one gill to slightly open it but Steb grabs your hand, his breath short, squeezing it lightly. 

You have like a deja vue sensation. 

He releases your hand with a short breath, the tip of his ears trembling, and starts signing. You gulp as the ground opens up under you. Fins and gills are erogenous zones for aquatic Vastayas, and you’ve been manipulating them around while Steb had to take it all silently. 

“Thank you for telling me straight, Steb. I’ll be cautious.” You promise. 

5 minutes, JUST 5 MINUTES for goodness sake! 

The good news is that the water drowned and burnt most of the critters on his body so they come without difficulties. You delicately pull out the last ones, mindful of his gills and fins all over his body, and spray him down with the lemon perfume while he gulps, still tensed after that unfortunate erotic contact. 

You hand him a towel and he pats himself gently before wrapping it around his waist, skin still bruised and reddish but his expression is appeased. 

You sit down, wrapped in your towel and he imitates you, both catching your breath. 

“Damn bugs!” You let out. 

Steb nods slowly, a thin smile appearing on his lips and then gently chuckles. You look at him with a raised eyebrow as he rubs his face with his hands, throwing his head backward as his large shaken by his laugh, and after an instant you join him, unable to refrain from your own giggling. 

Really, nothing will be spared to you two! 

You both finish with a deep sigh, your feet grazing. 

“God damn...” You grin, more amused than worried now. 

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

You close the living room door and lock it with the key. 

“All right, we don’t have a sofa bed or a kitchen for the next 48 hours for the product to take effect.” You announce. 

Steb nods, back in his enforcer uniform that has been spared in the bathroom. 

No upper room has been touched by the critters and everything seemed to have come from your old sofa bed. 

The invasion was quite early, still! 

“No more movies too.” 

He shrugs with a lopsided grin. 

“I don’t know you but I'm fed up with that house for now, let’s get outside!” 

He nods eagerly and you pass on a coat end exit your nest to discover Piltover under a thin drizzle. You smile as you see Steb twitching his ears and opening his gills wide in the mist. You nudge him and you head up wherever your steps decide to guide you. 

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

“Dear gods...” You let out. 

Your steps guided you to ruins. 

Steb’s house ruins to be more precise. 

Nothing is left, all walls are down, no furniture survived, and it is only a hill of rubble. 

Steb walks among the rest of his past with a closed but calm expression while you feel on the verge of tears. 

This is... so unfair. 

He did so much more than you, so why is he the one who lost everything? 

You walk among the fragments of walls and roof scattered everywhere at a loss for words. You cough with the impressive amount of dust around, detailing the pure waste of all of this is... 

An entire life 

Disintegrated in a matter of minutes... 

You take another step and lower your gaze as you hear the sound of glass, realizing that you stepped on a picture frame. You crouch to grab the picture delicately, discovering who you think is a younger Steb between two adults Vastaya, smiling brightly at the camera. 

The frame is ruined but the picture itself is miraculously intact, like a small miracle. 

You admire this instant of happiness suspended in time itself with a fond smile, discovering a tight, united family. 

You approach Steb who just managed to pull out the parts of a destroyed electronic piano from the debris. You hand him the picture with a reassuring smile and he takes it, almost apprehensively, and admires it, his cheek scales waving intensely. He stands back up, eyes still fixed on the pictures as he gulps, almost like he is about to cry. 

You look at him a bit worried but no tears roll down, he only fixes the smiles on the paper, eyes foggy with emotions. 

“Hey! HEY! You! The enforcer! Come here!” A displeasing voice rises up behind you. 

Steb does not move like paralyzed by the photo. 

“Come here right now!” 

You snarl and spin to discover an angry man with a woman following him, worried. You slide down the rubble and approach, frowning. 

Now is not the time! 

“Not you! The enforcer!” He dismisses you with a gesture of the hand like you were nothing. 

You sniff and take out your enforcer badge. 

“I am an enforcer. What do you want?” 

“We want all the persons responsible for all of this!” He gestures to the destroyed neighborhood, “All the houses have been destroyed or pillaged, we saw none of you come to help us during the battle and now nobody came to help us rebuild! What are you doing exactly?!” 

“We are doing what we can, sir. The building teams will be here shortly!” 

“We’ve been served that charade for 3 weeks! And we see no one coming! What are we supposed to do, grab you all by the collar for you to finally do your job?” 

“Sir, please calm down-” 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, I have children, we are abandoned. What do you plan to do to help us? Or do you intend to only rebuild the neighborhood of the nobles?” 

“Everyone will receive help, no one will be left behind.” 

“We’ve been left behind decades ago. You enforcers are here to protect the money of the upper crust and walk all over us! What did you two do during the war? Huh!? Anything?! You did something, enforcer?!” He shouts at Steb on top of the fuming remains of his house. 

“Sir! If you want to scream at someone, I am right here!” You make a barrage with your own body, blocking the enraged man, “Leave him in peace, he needs time.” 

“OH? Oh, he needs time, does he?! What a luxury, I can’t afford that luxury! I lost my house! Can he even understand that?” 

“Yes, Sir, he can very well. This is his own house in ruins right here. Believe me, he understands perfectly your situation. We have a lot of teams working, someone will come and help. You need to trust me.” 

“To trust?! Do you hear yourself?! We... We...” He stops shouting, voice overflowed by tears, breaking down in front of you. 

The woman circles his shoulders to press him tight while your throat dries out. 

What to say? 

You have nothing to say to soothe such a wound, to appease such a trauma. All of those lives ruined, how many will truly be able to rebuild solid foundations and move on? 

“Please...” The woman quietly says raising her eyes to you, “Just... Tell us Piltover didn’t forget about us.” 

“No Ma’am. Piltover did not forget about any of its citizens. Ste... My colleague is in contact with someone really high up in the Kiramman family, he can plead for teams to be redirected toward you. We will do everything we can to help everyone, but it takes a lot of time.” 

She lowers her gaze pensively and nods, taking the man still crying away to leave you alone. 

You look at them walking away from you with a bitter taste in your mouth. 

You are sure Piltover’s efforts will be redirected toward those neighborhoods... At some point. 

But when? 

A week? Several? 4 months? 2 years? 

You bury your hands in your coat’s pocket with a gulp, feeling a bit dirty, and spin back toward Steb, still on the top of the rubbles. 

He slightly turns his head in your direction as he hears you approach and hurriedly wipes something off on his cheek and folds the pictures to put it in his chest pocket as you finally reach him. 

His breath comes back to normal but his eyes are swollen and red, looking in the distance. 

He turns to you with a very tight smile and moves his hands into a question. 

“They... They just wanted some information.” 

He tilts his head and asks again. 

“Yes, you may be able to help them in fact. But not now... We are here for you.” You gently smile, looking into his swollen eyes. 

He shortly nods, blinking his third eyelids. 

But you know... Deep down he feels useless and responsible. He still did not explain to you what happened, but he wears the weight of his regrets on his face with low ears and shoulders. 

You take his shoulder with your hand and squeeze it as he did so much for you under his tutelage when doubts were swarming you. 

“Hey... I am here with you. We will surpass all of that, together. Okay?” 

His smile reappears shortly as his ears shake quickly. 

“I am not abandoning you now. Come on! I’m sure there are still some memories buried under the  rubble, we are not leaving with empty hands, I promise you!” 

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

“I did not know you played violin!” You exclaim, pressing the family pictures book against your chest as you walk towards the Grand Park. 

Steb readjusts the strap of the violin case on his shoulder as he explains. 

He has been playing the violin since early childhood, his parents wanted him to get into a group of friends the same age after they moved into Piltover. Apparently, baby Steb was quite shy and preferred the company of books and adults. 

You give him a side look. 

Evidently, seeing his house destroyed again weight on his mind, but he is evidently happy to have found the book intact, protected by a bookcase that fell just around it, and his face illuminated when you triumphantly lifted the violin case out of the debris with a stupid victory dance. 

It will never be enough, but it is something at last... 

His hand doesn’t release the strap of the case, holding it firmly like he was afraid it would disappear all of a sudden like the rest. The case is a bit dusty and bumpy but the violin is untouched, thank the Gods. 

Steb suddenly stops before a building, making you turn to him with questions. 

“A hotel?” 

He nods with swift signs. 

“Yes, you can’t sleep on the sofa for two days, but I’m not kicking you out.” You explain as you approach him with a confused frown, “You can still sleep in the house.” 

He tilts his head, asking. 

“Well, my... Bed.” It downs on you as you say it out loud. 

But your bed is the last place to sleep in your little house. 

His throat muscles tighten as his turquoise eyes round-up with the surprise. 

You press your lips in a thin line, fidgeting your fingers. 

Yep, yep, yep... 5 minutes of peace right? 

But you can’t just kick him out to a hotel like that? All his stuff are at your place. 

“Listen. We shouldn’t spread the bugs more than they already invaded the city. It’s only a matter of two nights.” 

He tilts his head left and right, debating the rights and wrongs of that situation. 

“You don’t even know the state of the rooms in that hotel, most of them may be destroyed and you still need a workstation.” You close the matter. 

You spin away to let him see the fire spreading in your cheeks, heating up like crazy. 

He follows you diligently as you pass the gates of the Grand Park of Progress and realize a lot of people are here.  

“Ah! I think there is a shelter nearby!” You remember. 

A lot of families with children are here, looking exhausted but with small smiles, simply happy to be able to enjoy the park for one hour or two and get some fresh air. Parents look tenderly at their kids coursing each other and sliding down the slides or swaying on the swings. 

A small moment of peace. 

There is even a small merchant of ice cream back in business! 

You both sit down on a bench, Steb wrapped his enforcer jacket around his hips for more anonymity and you simply observe the passersby, inhaling the fresh air with some relief. You look at the children running around and laughing with a smile and turn your head as you hear a baby crying not far away. 

You jump on the bench as you hear a squeaky sound right next to you and see Steb adjusting the cords of his violin, tightening them before trying again, repositioning his long fingers. 

A long, clear note rises in the sky as he slides his bow gently on the cords. 

You silently admire him as he tests his instrument with different positions, different notes ringing deliciously in the air. He looks so focused, his hands and fingers moving along the instruments with fineness, like a caress, creating magnificent sounds. 

He turns his eyes to you as he feels your insistent gaze on him, his gaze traveling between you and the violin in a silent question. You immediately raise your hand in an appeasing manner. 

“I don’t mind at all! I love music, it’s great being able to see a musician this close!” You invite him to continue. 

He nods, a bit relieved, and straightens his back as he clears his throat, laying the bow on the cords and making it slide again. 

He starts an infinitely tender melody you never heard before but would suit a lullaby wonderfully. You listen, eyes fixed on your mentor, gently cradling yourself to his music. 

It is beautiful and also terribly sad. 

When you listen to that melody you feel like listening to a tragedy, a story full of hope that will never have a good ending no matter the efforts to correct fate. 

You gulp as you feel your throat contracting under rising tears. 

This is the kind of sadness you can deal with and revel in, a cathartic emotion created by a skillful artist to alleviate everyone’s heart once the tragedy ends. 

A moment of elegance and refinement. 

Even the wind subdued just enough to carry the notes farther without drowning them. 

You sigh, transported so far away from your mortal body, like you were on a new plan. 

A magical plan, where music notes and heartbeats are the same, creating a powerful symphony of vibrant memories and dreams. A silent tear rolls down your closed eyes as you let yourself submerged by the emotions Steb creates with his skillful hands. 

You think even the baby stopped crying, soothed by the soft melody. 

You gasp, taking a shaky breath as Steb makes his cords resonate a last time as the melody ends. 

It was... Marvelous, gut-wrenching, and you needed it you realize. 

You reopen your eyes as you feel a knuckle caressing your cheek, discovering Steb wiping a tear off your skin with concerned eyes on you. 

You cannot help but smile his way, your heart a little bit lighter thanks to him.  

You sigh and look around, realizing several people joined in a circle around your bench to listen to Steb’s music. 

“You have fans, superstar.” You grin at him. 

His ears shake with a rosy shade spreading on his cheeks. He must not be used to have a large audience. 

“Hey!” A voice rises, commanding both of your attentions. 

A human woman and another Vastaya, a canine one, break the circle with a flute and a djembe to come closer. 

They are more probably Zaunites than Piltovians, judging by their clothes. 

“A jolly folly, you know this one?” She asks. 

Steb nods and stands up. 

“One, two, thee...” She counts down. 

And they start a new melody, much more joyful and rhythmic. A lot of people start clapping in rhythm, familiar with the music, some grab a partner and start swaying together. You snap your fingers as you bob your head up and down, your feet twitching with the desire to dance. 

The three musicians harmonize together as the crowd grows more and more, captivated by the joyful music. 

Desperate for just a moment of frivolity. 

The tempo wins over Steb he taps his foot and tilts his bust left and right with playfulness as the flutist bobs up and down with him, a smile wrapped around the flute’s head.  

Everyone around you dances in some way, with partners or alone. Several couples start swinging with impressive mastery as others just sway their arms together. 

A large round dance around the musicians starts to form and someone grabs your hand to invite you in. 

You all strut around them in a circle, raising your arms in a hola with loud laughs. You cannot help but laugh yourself, holding on to the two persons’s hands while you spin, focused on Steb playing his violin. 

He is really good you came to realize. The temp is very fast and you don’t think you hear any false notes coming from him. 

The other two are really good too! They have evidently been playing for long years and it shows. 

Steb and the woman stop, letting the percussionist throw himself in a frenzied solo with big smiles on their faces, abandoning themself to the art. 

It culminates in a grand final with high, quick notes and a furious tempo making you want to dance until the end of the night! 

No matter what happened, Piltover is still here, still standing! 

And you are all still alive! 

The last notes resonate under the applause and the shouts of the audience that grew exponentially during the piece. You clap your hands hard, breathless, and heads spinning while Steb nods and shakes hands with the two Zaunites, happy about this fleeting moment.  

He passes back the case in his back, grabs the book, and heads towards you as the two musicians start a new music with an enthusiastic public. He nods and waves to people patting his shoulder, thanking him for his talent. 

You both rejoin, pantless and a bit sweaty, but definitely happier. 

“It was really, really good, Steb! You have a real talent.” You try to catch your breath, hands on your hips while he humbly accepts your praise with a nod and shaking cheek scales. 

“Come on, I’ll pay you an ice cream for your performance!” You giggle. 

You walk along the bank of the Park’s lake, licking your ice cream cones with childish delight. It is much less crowded around here, much more peaceful and calm. 

You sit down on a new bench, facing the lake where ducks gently swim, a couple of swans just a little farther. You let out a deep satisfied sigh, contemplating the view. 

“If you want to take a dive, I'll hold your cone.” You teasingly propose. 

Steb chuckles as he bites down his ice cream, his gills wide open to take as much fresh air as possible. You chuckle with him as the sun slowly starts to go down, painting the sky in pink and mauve shades. 

“This is beautiful...” You let out, admiring the scenery. 

Steb nods slowly with a deep breath. 

“I love this city... Despite all of its failures and defaults.” You admit, nodding to yourself. 

He spins his head towards you, tilting it with questions. 

“Okay... I don’t like everything! There are some aspects that can be improved. A lot. But still. There are worse places to live in.” 

He nods, biting down his ice cream again like the cold is only a minor inconvenience on his teeth. 

“Say... I think I saw you with sharp teeth in the picture, as for your parents? What’s up with that?” You ask curious. 

Steb was raising his cone to his mouth again but stopped, putting his hand back down, his shoulders lowering a bit with his ears. 

“... Steb?” You ask in a murmur  

He licks his teeth pensively and lets out a deep sigh, his free hand rolling into a fist, gripping the fabric of his pants. 

He purses his lips, hesitating. 

“Forget it, Steb... I am sorry, I should not have asked.” You take his hand rolled in a fist and gently squeeze it. 

His gaze lowers to your hands and then raises to meet yours, a lot of emotions raging and battling in his turquoise gaze. You frankly smile at him. 

You press yourself against him and lay your head on his shoulder with a satisfied sigh. 

“We’ll see the end of the tunnel at some point... I am sure of it. I promise to be at your side at that moment.” You declare, nudging your cheek against his shoulder. 

You hear him gup, but, 

Slowly 

He lays his head on top of yours. 

You both remain silent, observing the setting sun disappearing behind Piltover’s buildings, the Swan couple taking off together to disappear, flying through the sky. 

You close your eyes, breathing deep, feeling Steb’s warmth sipping through your skin as his musk slowly reaches your nose. 

He smells pretty good! 

You reopen your eyes in a flash when you feel Steb’s finger on the corner of your mouth. He takes it off immediately, showing you the cream you had smeared over yourself that he just whipped off. 

His lips wrap around his thumb to suck on the cream and you observe that action with a strange fascination. 

You sigh, placing your head back on his shoulder. 

How will you survive this love, you wonder 

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

“Home sweet home!” 

You close and lock the door after Steb with a sigh of relief. You just finished eating your take-outs under Piltover’s starry sky and now you need a good night’s sleep. 

You see your closed living room door and sigh deeply again. 

Ah yes... You forgot that little detail. Well, that is rock bottom for the both of you, nothin worse can happen now! 

You lazily open your coat as you start climbing your stairs with a yawn. 

You stop dead in your tracks with a cold realization. 

Your room 

Is in a fucking mess 

You cannot let Steb see all of that! 

Steb turns to you in surprise when you start sprinting up to your room. 

You barge through your bedroom in a panic, it looks even worse than this morning! You grab the dirty plate and put it in your bathroom sink, you have no better options for now! 

What worries you the most are all the bras and panties lying around waiting for laundry day. 

You crawl onto your floor in a panic, gathering them into your arms when you hear Steb’s peaceful steps climbing the stairs and approaching your bedroom. You roll them all in a ball and stand up in a hurry in front of it when gentle knocks resonate at the door. 

“Don’t enter, it’s a bit of a mess!” You try to sound as relaxed and unbothered as possible, kicking the clothes under your bed. 

A silence occurs before you hear him walking away to the bathroom. You scrutinize your room like a robot to locate all the garments you missed and gather them in a hurry when Steb opens your door making you jump and spin towards him. 

He holds the dirty dish with a confused expression. 

“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII, huh...” You hide the laced panties you hold behind your back with an innocent expression, “My kitchen sink is broken and I have to do my dishes in the bathroom sink until the repair man arrives.”  

He tilts his head, considering the plates before signing with one hand. 

“Don’t feel obligated to look at it, Steb, you are my guest!” You object. 

He starts signing again but he slows down discovering the mess of books and clothes all over until his gaze stops on a laced bra lazily hanging onto your mirror.  

“Ah!”You jump and take it off hurriedly, hiding it behind your back too “Get out please!” You demand with a high-pitched, hurried tone, “I need to put some order back to this room!” 

He looks at you, a little gauche and embarrassed, and closes the door behind him. 

You growl and throw the two undergarments under your bed.  

You crouch and pile up your books, lifting them, and leave your bedroom to enter your small office to tidy everything. You glance at your workstation while you put your books back. You’ll need to give your key to Steb for him to fill forms. 

You hear the sound of water in your bathroom and as you go back to your room Steb exits it with his toothbrush in his mouth and a plate now clean. 

“I told you you were the guest here.” You grumble; 

He shrugs and hands you the plate while brushing his teeth vigorously. You put it back on the table in your bedroom for now and quickly tidy up the room. You search for new male clothes around, but this was the last shirt apparently. 

You only find pants.  

Steb doesn’t formalize himself and passes them on in the bathroom while you put on your pajamas in your room. It’s not perfect but it’s not shocking you judge observing the state of the bedroom. 

You brush your teeth and head to bed. You discover Steb reading the back of the book on your nightstand, bare chest. You gulp as you notice how large his shoulders truly are... You were not really in the headspace to notice all of those details that day under the tent... 

And suddenly it downs on you again. 

You’re going to sleep in the same bed as your mentor who tried to kiss you. You gulp. It is technically a double bed, it’s just on the smaller side, a bit cramped for two. 

Steb raises his head at you with a tight smile, his cheek swales waving lazily like he is... pleased. His eyes are unreadable outside of some softness in the gaze. He show you the book and signs. 

“Oh... Yes, it’s a good book.” You nod, “I can lend it to you once I finish it.” 

He nods enthusiastically and his fins tremble harder, happy. 

You mentally sigh once you are both under the cover, at a respectful and modest distance from each other. Of course. 

Steb looks pretty relaxed all things considered. He has been pretty casual with you during this entire day. Clearly he doesn’t trouble himself like you do. 

Maybe his former shyness and embarrassment are more the products of shame for having tried to kiss you of all people than some sort of hidden mutual fondness, you come to realize. 

Piercing your heart.  

You really need to wake up and stop dreaming, you are clearly not on the same page! 

He turns his head to you and nods with a tight grin, and you turn off your bedside lamp. 

And darkness and silence swarm you. 

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

Steb grips the cover, digging his nails into the fabric trying to remain calm and composed. 

He feels your warmth waving though his sensitive Vastaya skin, mercilessly reminding him that you are next to him 

So 

So close 

To him. 

He rubs his face with his hands, sighing to himself.  

How did it come to that? How did everything cumulate in this very situation? 

He contemplates the ceiling through the darkness, his hand in his hair. Every time he closes his eyes, he feels the ghosts of your gentle hands manipulating his supersensitive fins back in the bathroom, sending his heart into a frenzy. 

Those thin undergarments becoming see-through once wet. 

This laced bra laying around. 

He had to lock himself in the bathroom and splash his face with cold water to remain composed. He had to fight back the visions of you in this laced bra, squeezing and rounding up your... enticing breast. 

He gulps, listening to your calm and deep breath. 

He can almost hear your heartbeat. 

He wishes he could nudge himself in your warm embrace to hear them both better...  

Like when you laid your head so casually on his shoulder. He was so surprised and did not know what to do, he thought you were still angry at him until that moment. 

But maybe not? 

You touched him so causally that he felt emboldened to wipe your lips clean of the cream, but he could not make sense of the gaze you gave him. 

He discreetly slides his hand under the cover until he can graze yours and gently 

Secretly 

Lock your pinkies together. 

Feeling his heart pumping harder. 

He sighs again, slightly appeased by that secret contact, and closes his eyes to sleep with you. 

In your own bed

@aecarstairs @wiltyard @sanktastuff @mahirublue @chocalycake @rositabluemoon @blackwoodwinter @archangel1206 @marshallowy @crimson23capricorn @m0na-lis4 @chjopchjop @editedjeans @joshuhaos @dulcecita-luzita @cyberneticfrk @nottherealamber @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @sadlycerenity

[lelengerine]

woonhak(bnd)+ your eyes only(enha)

͙͘͡★ dear, my muse

song prompt. “you’re in charge of the photography exhibit, and i thought i was just another random student in the crowd—until i saw that i’m in more than half the photos.”

pairing. bff!woonhak x photography student!reader

tags. best friends to (sort of implied) lovers, hints of mutual pining and slow burn mixed with fluff, photography as a love language bc <3, gender neutral reader, think that’s it!

wc. 1.0k words

notes. aaaaa i’m really proud of this one >0< unagi is like a little baby to me so writing this was sm fun 🥺🩷 thank u sm for requesting anonie and i hope u like it mwah <3 likes, reblogs, and feedback are very much welcome!

꒰ m.list | event m.list ꒱

the gallery lights were dimmed just right—soft but intentional, casting golden glows against white walls where every photo sat neatly framed. you stood near the far end, fussing over a crooked label, when you heard it.

“hey… is that my good side or what?”

you froze in place because no one else would say something so unserious in the middle of an art exhibit, and definitely not in front of a photo they weren’t supposed to recognize.

you turned, and sure enough, kim woonhak, was standing in front of your favorite shot—head tilted, one hand on his chin like he was trying to interpret the meaning of some abstract piece of art when, in reality, the photo was a portrait of his face.

you still remember the day you took it. it was a candid you took during a club bonding trip to the beach. he was laughing in it, eyes half-closed, hands mid-gesture, teasing jaehyun over the way he stumbled into the waves that crashed along the shoreline. you had barely realized you’d taken it until weeks later, going through the gallery of your camera and finding him right in the center of everything—sun-kissed, loud, alive.

“woonhak,” you hissed with slight embarrassment in your tone, walking over quickly, clipboard tucked against your side. “what are you doing here?”

he turned to you with a smile that was too wide for comfort. “enjoying the art, obviously,” which was followed by a fake gasp, “wait—you’re the curator?”

you narrowed your eyes. “you knew that.”

“did i?” he gave a dramatic shrug. “i just followed the posters. they said there’d be free food and artistic enlightenment.”

“so, you just wanted the free macarons.”

“okay, but i stayed for the unauthorized woonhak retrospective,” he said, gesturing behind him. “seriously—this one? that one? that one, too? oh, and what do you know—me again?”

he moved down the line of prints, pausing at each photo you’d taken over the semester. some at school events. others in quieter moments—him walking ahead during the club outing, him sleeping on a bus with his cheek smushed into the window, him in the background of a class picture, his figure blurry from movement but he was unmistakably grinning.

you didn’t follow. 

you simply watched in place as he looked and observed each picture of himself. he eventually turned to you slowly, an eyebrow raised. “why didn’t you invite me personally? i thought we were best friends?”

you clutched your clipboard like it was your last line of defense. “you’re not supposed to be here. i- i wasn’t really expecting you.”

“kind of hard not to when i’m in, like, half the gallery,” he said, clearly amused. “is this some kind of soft-launch for your not-so-secret crush on me?”

you nearly choked on thin air. “what?”

“because i’m honored,” he continued, completely ignoring your mortification. “but also a bit concerned ‘cause that’s, like, a lot of me.”

“you just show up in everything!” you said, flustered as you try coming up with a lame excuse. “you’re always around so...”

he shrugged, like that was obvious. “yeah, because we hang out all the time.”

“exactly,” you added, trying to sound normal. “of course you’d be in the background.”

he grinned. “or the spotlight, apparently.” you groaned, turning to walk away, but he caught up easily—hands behind his back like he wasn’t casually dismantling your sense of composure.

“you know,” he said, glancing sideways at you, “you could’ve told me. i would’ve posed more. y’know, given you my whole emotional range.”

you scoffed. “i didn’t need all that. you’re dramatic enough without trying.”

he laughed, bumping your shoulder with his. “so you're saying your work is… capturing the truth of me? sounds like someone’s a little obsessed—”

you stopped and gave him a look. “do you want me to crop you out of all of them?”

he held up both hands in surrender. “okay, okay. i’ll behave. kinda flattering, though. having a whole wall that says someone sees you like that.”

you looked at him—really looked at him. teasing as always, but it's softer now. there was something about the way his voice dipped when he said that, like he truly meant it, like he saw you too.

there was a beat of silence as you reached the end of the gallery wall. someone across the room pointed at one of the group photos and smiled. woonhak’s eyes followed.

“you really like this, huh?”

you glanced at him, giving a questioning look that urged him to continue.

“this,” he repeated, nodding toward the gallery. “catching people when they don’t know they’re being seen.”

your grip on the clipboard eased a little. “yeah. it’s like… everyone forgets the small moments, but cameras don’t.”

he nodded, eyes drifting to another photo of himself—laughing, mid-motion, alive in a way that didn’t always show up when he was trying too hard.

“i forget i looked like that,” he murmured. “that happy.”

you nudged his arm. “you still look like that.”

he turned to you. “yeah, but only when you’re around.”

you blinked, mouth parting—caught between a smile and confusion.

“…are you serious?”

his grin came back—softer this time, but still him. “i mean… you’re kind of my favorite person. that’s a thing best friends can say, right?”

you looked away before your brain could spiral. “only if they say it less dramatically.”

he leaned in. “i’ll work on it. but for now…” he tapped the camera still hanging around your neck. “can i request an updated portrait? you know. to commemorate this historic moment of accidental fame.”

you rolled your eyes but lifted the camera anyway. “fine. one photo.”

“make it iconic,” he said, throwing a peace sign and angling his face like a mock model. “i need something to autograph later.”

you snorted. “you’re the worst.”

“and yet,” he said, eyes twinkling, “you still point that thing at me every time.”

click.

the shutter snapped, and for once, he was actually looking at the lens.

just like he always looked at you—loud, alive, and like you were the only thing in focus because maybe you weren’t the only one with a muse.

[di-42]

Yet again I have only been able to read WIPs and short fictions this month, but the quality of the wonderful stories I was lucky enough to read more than made up for it!

Shootout to the good omens after dark community on reddit, through which I found quite a few of the fics on this list! You are the best!

As always, I'll tag the writers whose tumblr username I know. As always if you want your fic removed from this list, or know a writer who wants their fic removed, please let me know. 

I hope you enjoy these incredible stories as much as I did, and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't judge a fiction by the number of kudos, you're better than that (and you'd miss on amazing little gems!)

But now let me tell you about the things I loved about

April's Astounding Fictions

WIPs:

Courage (A Reverse Trope Story), by @spectrallydistracted, rated E, chapters 4/7.

Enemies to lovers, human AU, Crowley's POV. This fiction is sooooo good! Each chapter makes you feel all the feels. Crowley and Aziraphale hate each other (of course they do!), but love their friends, which is why they find themselves on a holiday together. This story is funny, deep, the right amount of angsty, relieving, liberating. And that's just in the first four chapters. All. The. Feels.

Is There A Version? By @lookingatacupoftea, rated M, chapters 19/25

This season 3 fiction was well worth the wait. It's one of the best I've ever read, and the closest to my headcanon. Amazingly well built and engaging plot, subtle humour, lots of pop culture references, delicious pining without all the anger and the angst, and a plot twist that I've never seen anywhere yet. Please please please, read it!

Scorn And The Saint-Maker, by beardo @e-rated-beardo, rated E, chapters 37/?

This fiction is so incredibly good it'll blow your mind away. A mystery within a mystery. The plot is intercepted and clever: you'll need to know what's going on. The chemistry between Anthony and Angel is otherworldly (I didn't choose that adjective randomly). The smut is aaahhh gaaaa ohmygod, delicious. And the writing style. Honestly, I would like to find words to describe it better and in detail, but the word that keeps coming to my mind is just beautiful. Beautiful. Well, and touching, and deep, and amazing... But you get what I mean. Beautiful.

Complete fictions:

Mutual Aid, by malicegeres, rated T, 17k.

Oh, I can't even begin to tell you how much I loved this fiction. Brought me back home, to my chosen family, to when another world was possible (if only). Human AU. Crowley is a militant anarchist, Aziraphale is the owner of a radical bookshop. Tenderness, humour, learning to trust, fighting against injustice, this fiction has it all. I finished reading this fiction on the anniversary of a special day for my home country, a day the memory of which we are at high risk of losing, and I guess this also added to my love and gratefulness for it. We need more fics like this one.

Curse Of Attraction, by SazzyLJ, rated E,10k.

Some members of Anathema’s family want to punish Aziraphale for refusing to restore Agnes’s book. The punishment is making him irresistibly attractive to anyone he comes across. I loved this story full of sweetness, great humour and spot on characterisation! It's a treat!

Whickber Uni's Lonely Heart Club, by @ineffabildaddy, rated E, 21k.

Lovely human, college, enemies to lovers AU. Aziraphale and Crowley are co-president of Whickber Uni's Book Club. They hardly tolerate each other. They are organising a valentine's social event for the club. Need I add more? I loved this version of our ineffables, their strengths and vulnerabilities are so in character and yet so relatable, their humour and banter are great, and they're just so adorable!

My own fiction, Deluded, rated M, 27k.

Human AU rated M for Misunderstandings and Miscommunication (yeah, ok, and mature). Crowley agrees to go on a blind date with Aziraphale, but he doesn't really do dates. He tells as much to Aziraphale and leav... lea... leeeeeeavmmm... Stays. I started off lighthearted, added a pinch of angst, skipped the smut, clumsily attempted some humour, and landed safely on fluff. These are literally the five themes of the five chapters.

One-shots:

In His Demon’s Arms, by graywings @smua70 rated T, 633 words.

Lovely reverse Omens scene, set in the Garden of Eden. Sweet, brief, and powerful. In any possible universe, they belong together.

Demon Summoning Is More Fun With Friends, by @little-mx-sunflower, rated G, 7k.

Mostly outsider’s POV, this story was so much fun to read. Crowley gets summoned, and Aziraphale goes with him. They have fun with the summoners. Light-hearted fic, but with a deep, unshakable sense of connection between our Ineffables, I loved it.

Get Humans Wet And Staring Into Each Other’s Eyes, by @waitingtobebroken , rated T, 2k.

Human AU. Hilarious Crowley's POV stream of consciousness. Aziraphale is there for the ride (in every sense, it would seem).

The First One That's Right, by DoonaRose, rated T, 2k

Sweet account of our Ineffable ‘doing it again’. Lovely.

A Day For Magic, by @createserenity rated E, 3k.

I loved the vibes of this fic so much! It's sweet and lovely, with great characterisation. The loving banter and the clear affection between our Ineffables paint a heartwarming picture of how things could be once they are safe from heaven and hell.

Poems:

Begin Anew, by @firstvisittoearth , rated T.

A reunion poem that will give you goosebumps. I can only hope that their canon reunion gives us the beautiful emotions this poem evocates.

Ode To An Angel’s Pajamas (NOT by a tipsy demon), by AlwaysBeMyBaby @alwaysbemybae with art by OneDapperCat, rated G.

Lovely Crowley's POV poem. Warm and Light-hearted, but the deep love and fondness our demon feels for his beloved angel shows. Great artwork depicting Aziraphale sporting different kinds of pyjamas!

March 25's list here.

[chimcess]

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Other Tags: Football Player!Hoseok, Teacher!Reader, Firefighter!Namjoon, Older Brother!Namjoon, Architect!Taehyung, Older Brother!Taehyung, Property Developer!Jungkook Genre: Christmas AU, Strangers to Lovers AU, Crack (low-key), Romantic Comedy, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Angst, Smut Word Count: 27.1k+ Summary: It's Christmas, but the HOA is being a real Grinch. Hoseok is determined to save the holiday for his niece and nephew, but he'll need some help to pull it off. With a little teamwork from the trio living across the street, he might just be able to outsmart the HOA and make this a Christmas to remember. Warnings: HOA being the devil (wow, what a surprise...), Jealous!Taehyung, Namjoon is so over his shit, Reader too, Tae and Joon are both overprotective, Hoseok is a really great uncle, Halmark Christmas movie ass storyline, strong language, sexual tension, slight public exposure (completely on accident), kissing, tongue kissing, making out, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple positions, protected sex (wrap it up), lowkey soft dom Hoseok, handjob, multiple orgasms, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Happy holidays!

The cold had settled in early this year, and Hoseok felt it in every corner of Colorado. December wasn't even over, but winter had already made itself comfortable, like an uninvited guest who planned to overstay. This wasn't the sharp, biting cold he knew from Illinois—the kind that slapped you in the face and stole your breath. No, Colorado's chill was cunning. It lingered just out of sight, waiting to slip into your bones when you least expected it.

Heated seats in his Land Rover weren't just a fancy perk; they were a necessity. Survival gear, really. His friends teased him about his top three reasons for loving his car. Number one was always the sound system—naturally. But if Namjoon was asking, he'd wax poetic about the impeccable safety ratings.

He hadn't meant to drive four hours from Denver to Salida on a whim. But when his sister Ji-woo called yesterday, her voice frayed at the edges, everything else took a backseat. She'd offered him a home-cooked meal, which was suspicious in itself. Ji-woo didn't cook unless there was a crisis. An invitation for a "warm, homemade dinner" was basically code red.

Without a second thought, he'd tossed an overnight bag into the backseat and hit the road. As he navigated through her labyrinth of a neighborhood—every house a carbon copy of the last—he understood why she always complained about getting lost. It was like driving through a real-life game of Spot the Difference, except there were no differences.

But it wasn't the monotony that made him pause when he pulled up to her house. It was the darkness. No Christmas lights twinkling in the frost, no inflatable reindeer wobbling on the lawn. Nothing. Ji-woo, who usually turned her home into a festive explosion the day after Thanksgiving, had left it bare. Hoseok pulled his jacket tighter as he stepped out, boots crunching on the icy driveway. He knocked on the door, the sound echoing down the eerily quiet street. His breath formed little clouds as he waited, a gnawing worry settling in his stomach.

Across the street, Taehyung squinted through his living room window, eyes fixed on Hoseok. "Someone's at Ji-woo's place," he mumbled, not budging an inch.

In the kitchen, Y/N shook her head with a smile. "She's allowed to have visitors, you know," she called out, balancing a tray of hot cocoa and freshly baked cookies.

"He looks... suspicious," Taehyung grumbled, still glued to the glass.

"Or maybe he's just cold," Y/N teased, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "Come on, leave the poor guy alone. We've got Elf queued up and everything."

Taehyung finally tore himself away from the window, his gaze drifting to the marshmallows melting into the cocoa. "Did you make the cookies with peanut butter chips?" he asked, feigning nonchalance.

"Like I'd forget," Y/N replied, a grin tugging at her lips. "No Kim family recipe skips the peanut butter chips."

He took a bite, his features softening as the familiar taste hit. "Dad would've approved," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she agreed, the moment hanging between them like a delicate ornament.

Back outside, Hoseok knocked again, shivering as a gust of wind snuck past his collar. He was about to fish out his phone when the door creaked open. Ji-woo stood there, her hair piled messily atop her head, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. But when she saw him, a flicker of relief crossed her face.

"You're here," she breathed, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Of course I'm here," he murmured into her hair. "You promised me a dubious home-cooked meal, remember?"

She laughed softly, the sound muffled against his coat. "Come in before you freeze."

Inside, the house felt... empty. Not physically—the furniture was all there—but the usual warmth was missing. No garlands draped over the fireplace, no stockings hung with care. Even the Christmas tree in the corner looked half-hearted, as if it knew it wasn't living up to expectations.

Ji-woo sank onto the couch with a weary sigh. "I think I made a mistake moving here."

Hoseok settled into the armchair across from her. "What's going on? Did the Grinch steal your decorations?"

"Worse," she groaned. "The HOA did."

He raised an eyebrow. "They're anti-Christmas now?"

"More like anti-fun. They have all these rules—no colored lights, no inflatable anything, no decorations that could be considered 'tacky' or 'disruptive.' Everything has to be white lights, tastefully arranged. It's like living in a Christmas museum."

"You're kidding," he said, but one look at her face told him she wasn't.

"The kids are miserable," she continued. "Arabella keeps asking why our house doesn't look 'happy' anymore. Maxwell made a protest sign that says 'We Miss Santa' and wants to picket in front of the HOA president's house."

Hoseok couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, he's got your flair for the dramatic."

"Tell me about it," she sighed. "I tried to explain, but how do you tell a seven-year-old that some people think joy is gaudy?"

He leaned forward. "Have you talked to the HOA? Maybe there's a loophole or something."

Ji-woo rolled her eyes. "Oh, I've talked to them. Rachel McDonald and her sidekick Tiffany Wallace run the place like it's their personal kingdom. They're like the Plastics from Mean Girls, but with power suits and a vendetta against colored LEDs."

"Oh, fantastic," Hoseok mumbled. "Mean girls with a homeowners' association to rule. Just what you needed."

Ji-woo laughed without much humor. "It gets better. Rachel's husband, Jeff? He spends his days flirting with the younger moms at the playground, always going on about how he could've gone pro if not for his 'career-ending car accident.' He was the high school football star, and he never lets anyone forget it."

"Let me guess," Hoseok said, already seeing the picture. "He's one of those guys who peaked in high school?"

"Exactly," Ji-woo confirmed. "And he's a total mess. He almost hit one of the Kim siblings—Y/N, the youngest—after a football game. Drives around drunk like he owns the place."

"Wow," Hoseok muttered, a knot forming in his stomach. "And nobody does anything about it?"

"Small towns," Ji-woo sighed, shrugging. "People overlook a lot, especially when it comes to the so-called golden boy. It's infuriating."

Before Hoseok could respond, a high-pitched voice sliced through the air.

"Uncle Hobi!"

A whirlwind of pink pajamas and tangled black hair hurtled across the room, colliding with his legs like a tiny freight train. Hoseok barely had time to steady himself before Maxwell wrapped his arms around him, nearly toppling them both.

"Whoa there, buddy!" Hoseok laughed, ruffling the boy's hair as he crouched down to hug him properly. Maxwell's face beamed up at him, eyes sparkling with pure joy. "How've you been?"

"Good!" Maxwell chirped, bouncing on his toes. "You're staying, right? You can stay forever now!"

Before he could answer, another figure appeared in the doorway—Arabella, her dark eyes casting a skeptical glance toward the window, as if the lackluster holiday lights were a personal affront. She was more reserved than her brother, but when she saw Hoseok, a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.

"Hey, Arabella," Hoseok said gently. "Think I can get a hug from you too?"

She walked over slowly, her steps measured, but when she hugged him, it was warm and sincere. The weight of their little arms around him filled the room with a lightness that hadn't been there moments before.

Just like that, the house felt a little less cold.

They say a watched pot never boils. Turns out, a watched coffee maker isn't in any rush either. Y/N hovered over the machine, silently pleading for it to hurry up—as if her very survival depended on that first cup. And honestly, it did. Without coffee, she was more like a friendly ghost drifting through her own kitchen.

The toaster snapped up with a clatter, launching her bagel into the air. She caught it instinctively, barely registering the motion, and spread a generous layer of garden veggie cream cheese on top. Her eyes kept drifting back to the coffee maker, as if it held all the answers. Finally, it gurgled to a finish, and she poured herself a mug with the kind of reverence usually reserved for sacred ceremonies.

The first sip was bliss—a warm embrace that chased away the lingering fog in her mind. For a moment, everything was peaceful. No second graders vying for attention, no stacks of ungraded papers looming over her. Just her and the coffee, wrapped in a quiet truce with the morning.

But peace was fleeting.

"That car's still there," Taehyung's voice broke the silence, rough and low like gravel underfoot. He shuffled into the kitchen, more bear than man, still tangled in the remnants of sleep. Before his own caffeine fix, Taehyung was best approached with caution.

Y/N took another sip, unfazed. "They pulled in late last night," she replied evenly, not rising to his grumpy bait.

He grunted, grabbed a mug, tore open a packet of Pop-Tarts, and retreated back to his room, a nocturnal creature avoiding the daylight. Y/N smiled to herself, already looking forward to her morning walk—the one slice of the day that was entirely hers. She laced up her sneakers, threw on a jacket, and stepped outside into the gentle hush of their new neighborhood.

Salida was still strange to her, each house a mirror image of the next, every lawn meticulously maintained. It was pleasant enough but felt more like a pit stop than a destination. Taehyung had found them a good deal here, courtesy of his job, and it served its purpose—a temporary escape while they figured out their next move.

She set off on her usual route, the cold air refreshing against her skin. The fog hung low, turning the streets into a watercolor painting of muted grays and soft edges. She let her mind wander, savoring the solitude.

Then she noticed it—a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision. At first, she thought it was a trick of the fog, but there it was again—a figure moving with effortless grace, just enough to catch her eye. Tall and solid, with an athletic stride. One detail snagged her attention more than she'd like to admit: a very, very nice backside.

Y/N felt warmth rise in her cheeks and shook her head, half-amused at herself. Who was that? She didn't recognize him, but then again, she and Taehyung weren't exactly mingling at neighborhood block parties. Taehyung was more invested in keeping tabs on the comings and goings around them—especially since Ji-woo had moved in across the street.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she continued her walk, her heartbeat just a touch quicker than before. The cold nipped at her face, but she hardly noticed. Her thoughts were elsewhere, caught up in that brief, intriguing glimpse.

Would she see him again?

It was a silly thought, and she laughed softly to herself. Still, there was a flutter in her chest—a tiny spark that felt new and welcome. By the time she looped back to the house, her cheeks were flushed, and not just from the cold.

Inside, Taehyung was hunched over his coffee at the kitchen table, looking marginally more awake but no less grumpy.

"What took you so long?" he asked, one eyebrow arched. "And why are you grinning like that?"

She shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. "Just enjoying the morning."

He gave her a skeptical look but didn't press further, muttering something unintelligible as he turned back to his mug.

Y/N just smiled to herself, knowing full well that her morning walks had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

Hoseok pushed open the front door, a gust of cold air following him inside. His lungs burned pleasantly from his morning run, and despite the sweat cooling on his skin, he felt invigorated. December had painted the world outside in shades of white and silver, but inside, the house was warm and smelled like coffee.

"Uncle Hobi, quiet," a small voice scolded.

He looked down to see Arabella standing there, hands on her tiny hips, clad in bright pink pajamas that were a size too big. Her serious expression was almost comical on such a small face.

"Sorry, Ari," he whispered, grinning. He crouched down to her level, arms open for a hug.

She hesitated. "You're sweaty."

He laughed. "Can't argue with that." But before he could retract his offer, she stepped forward and gave him a quick squeeze, then immediately wrinkled her nose.

"Yuck. You need a shower," she declared, pulling back.

"Noted," he said, raising his hands in surrender.

She toddled off toward the living room, probably to her favorite spot by the Christmas tree—the one that looked a bit forlorn without its usual explosion of lights.

Hoseok headed into the kitchen, where Ji-woo leaned against the counter, a mug cradled in her hands. She raised an eyebrow as he entered.

"You're up early," she remarked.

"Couldn't sleep," he replied, grabbing a glass of water. "Too many thoughts buzzing around."

"Ah," she said, taking a sip. "The infamous Hoseok brainstorm."

He grinned. "I've got an idea."

She eyed him warily. "Should I be concerned?"

"Probably," he admitted. "But hear me out."

She gestured for him to continue but then scrunched up her nose. "Actually, maybe tell me after you've showered."

He feigned offense. "You and Arabella both. Is my post-run glow that unbearable?"

"It's less 'glow' and more 'glisten,'" she teased. "And yes."

He chuckled, backing out of the kitchen. "Fine, I'll cleanse myself of this so-called glisten."

"Thank you," she called after him.

As he climbed the stairs, his mind returned to his plan. The HOA's ban on colorful Christmas lights was the last straw. Arabella's disappointment each time she looked outside was palpable, and it tugged at him more than he'd like to admit.

Maybe if he could convince Ji-woo to take the kids to their parents' house for the holidays, they'd get the festive experience they deserved. And while they were gone, perhaps he could find a way to negotiate with—or outsmart—the HOA.

After a hot shower, he felt more human. The steam had cleared his head, and he dressed quickly, eager to share his thoughts. Back in the kitchen, Ji-woo was scrolling through her phone, a frown creasing her forehead.

"More HOA drama?" he asked, rubbing a towel over his damp hair.

She sighed, setting the phone aside. "They're sending reminders about the 'holiday decor guidelines.' It's like they have a vendetta against joy."

He poured himself a cup of coffee. "That's why I wanted to talk to you."

She looked up, curious. "Oh?"

He took a sip before speaking. "What if you took the kids to Mom and Dad's for Christmas? Let them have the full festive experience without the Grinch HOA ruining it."

She considered this. "I don't know... They were excited to spend Christmas here."

He nodded. "I get that. But here feels... stifled. They can't decorate the way they want. At least at Mom and Dad's, they can go all out."

She traced the rim of her mug with a finger. "I suppose Arabella would love baking with Mom."

"And Maxwell can help Dad set up the train set," Hoseok added.

A small smile played on her lips. "They would enjoy that."

"Plus," he continued, "I can stay here and see if there's any way to reason with the HOA. Maybe find a loophole or two."

She raised an eyebrow. "You and your loopholes."

He shrugged, grinning. "It's a gift."

She laughed softly. "Alright. I'll talk to the kids."

Relief washed over him. "Great. I think it'll be good for all of you."

As she stood to rinse her mug, she glanced at him. "What about you? Spending Christmas alone?"

He waved off her concern. "I'll be fine. Someone's got to hold down the fort."

She gave him a knowing look. "If you say so."

He leaned against the counter, thoughts drifting to the woman he'd seen on his run that morning. There was something about the way she'd moved, the determination in her stride. He found himself hoping their paths might cross again.

Y/N stepped into the house, shaking off the chill from outside. Taehyung's car was parked at an awkward angle in the driveway—a telltale sign of his mood. Inside, she found Namjoon sitting on the edge of the couch, his posture tense but composed. Taehyung paced the length of the living room, agitation rolling off him in waves.

"Hey," she greeted cautiously.

Namjoon looked over, relief flickering in his eyes. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him."

She set her bag down. "What's going on?"

Taehyung stopped mid-pace. "There's a stranger at Ji-woo's house."

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes. "You mean her brother?"

He crossed his arms. "We don't know that."

Namjoon sighed. "Tae, we've been over this. Not every new person is a threat."

"But we have to be vigilant," Taehyung insisted. "Especially after everything."

Y/N felt a pang in her chest. "I get it," she said gently. "But maybe we should give people the benefit of the doubt."

He shook his head. "You didn't see the way he was sneaking around."

Namjoon stood up. "How about this—I’ll go over and introduce myself. Invite them to the community Christmas party. If there's anything off, I'll pick up on it."

Taehyung considered this. "Fine. But be careful."

"I always am," Namjoon assured him. He grabbed his coat and headed toward the door. "Y/N, keep an eye on him."

She nodded. "Will do."

After Namjoon left, the room fell into a heavy silence. Taehyung resumed his pacing, though slower this time.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He shrugged. "Just don't want anything to happen. Not again."

She understood. The past had left its marks on all of them. "I know."

He glanced at her. "You think I'm overreacting."

"I think you're protective," she said. "But sometimes that can come across as... intense."

He managed a small smile. "Understatement of the year."

She returned the smile. "Just try to relax a bit. Maybe focus on something else."

He sat down beside her. "Like what?"

She hesitated, then decided to take a chance. "I've been thinking about volunteering at the youth center's holiday event. Could use an extra pair of hands."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "Is it working?"

He chuckled. "A little."

They sat in comfortable quiet for a moment. Y/N's thoughts drifted to the man she'd seen that morning—the one with the easy smile and kind eyes. She wondered what his story was.

"Earth to Y/N," Taehyung said, waving a hand in front of her face.

She blinked. "Sorry. Zoned out."

"Thinking about your students?"

"Something like that," she replied, not ready to share her musings.

He studied her for a moment. "You seem... different lately."

"Different how?"

He shrugged. "Happier."

She considered this. "Maybe."

"That's good," he said sincerely.

"Thanks." She bumped his shoulder lightly. "See? Not everything is doom and gloom."

He smiled. "I'll try to remember that."

The late afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting everything in a soft, golden hue. Y/N felt a tiny flicker of hope ignite inside her chest. Maybe—just maybe—this Christmas would bring something new, something good.

She glanced over at Taehyung, who was slouched on the couch, half-watching a mindless reality show. He was still brooding, eyebrows knit together in that way that made him look both serious and a little ridiculous.

"So," she said, leaning back and stretching her arms over her head, "do you think Namjoon's going to make it back alive, or should we start assembling a search party?"

Taehyung grunted, eyes never leaving the screen. "Laugh all you want, but when Namjoon returns with the truth, you'll see. Mark my words, Y/N. I'm onto something big."

She hid a smile behind her hand. "Oh, I have no doubt you're onto something."

Life with her brothers was never dull—a constant whirlwind of conspiracies and overreactions. But she wouldn't trade it for anything.

Ji-woo stared at Hoseok like he'd suggested they celebrate Christmas on the moon.

"Absolutely not," she declared, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "I'm not letting those Stepford wives think they've won."

Hoseok could practically see the steam rising from her. That familiar storm brewing in her eyes—a mix of stubbornness and simmering rage. The HOA drama had pushed her right to the edge, and suggesting they spend the holidays at their parents' place was apparently the final straw.

"Ji, it's just a suggestion," he said gently. "The kids might enjoy—"

"The kids don't want to leave their home for Christmas," she interrupted, her voice firm. "And I am not giving Tiffany Wallace and Rachel McDonald the satisfaction."

He sighed, bracing himself as she launched into a tirade. She recounted every passive-aggressive comment, every forced smile, every time they'd conveniently "forgotten" to inform her about some new HOA rule.

"And can you believe Tiffany had the nerve to ask if I was a lesbian?" Ji-woo fumed, her cheeks flushing. "As if it's any of her business! Probably just so she'd have something juicy to share at her next book club meeting."

Hoseok nodded along, his mind starting to wander. It wasn't that he didn't care—he did—but he'd heard variations of this rant many times before.

"And Rachel," Ji-woo continued, her eyes narrowing. "She looks down her nose at everyone, like she's the queen of this suburban prison."

He was just about to suggest they take a deep breath when a knock sounded at the door. Saved by the bell.

Ji-woo paused, exchanging a curious glance with Hoseok before heading to the door. He followed her, curious.

When she opened it, Namjoon Kim stood on the porch, his usual calm smile in place. He looked every bit the part of the friendly neighborhood fire chief, his uniform crisp and his posture relaxed.

"Captain Kim," Ji-woo greeted, her tone shifting to something warmer. "What brings you by?"

"Evening, Ms. Lee," he replied politely. Hoseok noticed the slight wince his sister gave at the use of her married name, but she recovered quickly.

"I was just over at the Kims'—the other Kims," Namjoon added with a chuckle. "Wanted to make sure you knew about the town Christmas party tonight. It's a big deal around here. Santa, caroling, more cookies than anyone should probably eat."

He handed her a colorful flyer, and Ji-woo's face softened as she took it. "That sounds wonderful. The kids would love it."

Hoseok stepped forward, offering a friendly smile. "Mind if I tag along?"

Namjoon turned to him, eyes widening slightly. "Wait a minute—you’re Hoseok Jung."

Hoseok gave a modest shrug. "Guilty as charged."

Namjoon broke into a grin. "My siblings are huge fans. Heck, I’m a huge fan."

Before Hoseok could respond, a small whirlwind barreled into his legs.

"Uncle Hobi!" Arabella squealed, her Elsa pajamas a blur of blue and sparkles as she hugged him tightly.

He scooped her up, her giggles filling the entryway. "Hey there, princess. Shouldn't you be napping?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Can't sleep. No lights."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "No lights?"

Ji-woo sighed. "HOA restrictions. We're not allowed to put up colored lights or inflatables."

"Seriously?" Namjoon's friendly demeanor shifted, a frown creasing his forehead. "That's... unusual."

"That's Tiffany and Rachel," Ji-woo muttered. "They've made it their mission to suck the joy out of the neighborhood."

Hoseok nodded. "Ari loves the colored lights. White ones just aren't the same."

Namjoon looked thoughtful. "Well, that doesn't seem fair. Maybe there's something we can do about that."

Hoseok watched him with interest. There was a quiet determination in Namjoon's eyes, the kind that suggested he wasn't one to let things slide.

"Anyway," Namjoon said, his smile returning as he looked back at Ji-woo. "Hope to see you all at the party tonight. And Hoseok, if you don't mind signing an autograph or two..."

Hoseok laughed. "Not at all. Happy to."

As Namjoon headed back across the street, Hoseok turned to his sister, still holding Arabella in his arms.

"Looks like this town has a few surprises," he remarked.

Ji-woo chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, Namjoon? He's just the beginning. Stick around—you'll see."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

She patted his shoulder as she headed back toward the kitchen. "Trust me. You might even start liking it here."

He watched her go, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Maybe this detour wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Namjoon slammed the front door open, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a sudden clap of thunder. Y/N looked up from her book, startled. It wasn't like Namjoon to make a scene—he was the steady one, the calm one. But today, his face was clouded, eyes sharp and determined.

"Taehyung!" he called, his voice carrying up the stairs with an urgency that made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

There was a muffled crash from upstairs, followed by a groan. Moments later, Taehyung appeared at the top of the staircase, hair tousled and eyes bleary. He rubbed at his face, clearly pulled from a deep sleep.

"What's going on, Joon?" he mumbled, starting down the steps. He didn't seem to notice the tension radiating from his older brother.

Namjoon didn't waste a second. "Do you have any idea what kind of company you work for?" he demanded, pointing out the front window toward Mrs. Lee's house across the street. His voice was tight, controlled—but Y/N could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface.

Taehyung blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Mrs. Lee just told me that Tiffany and Rachel are preventing her from putting up the Christmas decorations her kids love," Namjoon said, each word clipped. "Apparently, the HOA has banned colorful lights and inflatable decorations. Little Ari is heartbroken."

Taehyung frowned, glancing between Namjoon and Y/N. "I don't handle HOA rules," he said slowly. "I'm an architect, not a policy maker."

"But you work for the development company that runs this neighborhood," Namjoon pressed. "Surely you know someone who can do something about this."

Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I mean, I can call Jungkook. He's more involved with that side of things."

"Good," Namjoon said firmly. "Because it's ridiculous that kids can't have Christmas lights because of some overzealous HOA board."

Y/N stood up, hoping to ease the tension. "Maybe it's just a misunderstanding," she offered gently. "HOAs can be tricky with their rules."

Namjoon shook his head. "Whether it's a misunderstanding or not, it needs to be fixed."

Taehyung pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. "I'll give Jungkook a call," he said, already heading toward the kitchen.

As he disappeared from view, Namjoon let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging. Y/N stepped closer.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded, but his eyes were still stormy. "I just can't stand the thought of those kids missing out on Christmas because of some pointless rule."

She offered a small smile. "You're a good man, Namjoon."

He gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Don't spread that around."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"By the way," Namjoon said, his tone shifting to something lighter, almost teasing. "I don't think Taehyung realizes who Mrs. Lee's guest is."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Namjoon's eyes sparkled with mischief. "The guy you saw over there this morning? That's Hoseok Jung."

Her mouth fell open. "Wait—the Hoseok Jung? As in the two-time Super Bowl champion?"

He nodded. "The very same."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, memories of her morning walk flooding back—the tall figure jogging past her, the way he'd moved with effortless grace. She'd noticed him, sure, but she hadn't realized...

"Language, Y/N," Namjoon teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin spreading across her face. "I can't believe it. How did I not recognize him?"

"Probably because you were too busy daydreaming," he joked.

"Hardly," she shot back, nudging him playfully. "Besides, he was wearing a hat and sunglasses."

"Excuses, excuses."

Just then, Taehyung re-entered the room, looking exasperated. "Jungkook's in the shower, but his wife said he'll call me back soon."

"Great," Namjoon replied. "We need to get this sorted out."

Taehyung flopped onto the couch, rubbing his temples. "This HOA stuff is such a headache."

Y/N sat beside him. "We haven't really been paying attention to their rules, have we?"

He shrugged. "We put up a tree inside. That's about the extent of our holiday spirit."

Namjoon crossed his arms. "Well, maybe it's time we all got a bit more involved. Can't let a few grinches ruin Christmas for everyone."

Taehyung glanced at Y/N. "What's got him so fired up?"

She smiled softly. "Mrs. Lee's kids can't put up their decorations. Namjoon's on a mission to fix it."

"And Hoseok Jung is staying with her," Namjoon added, watching Taehyung's reaction.

Taehyung looked blank. "Who?"

Y/N laughed. "Only one of the most famous quarterbacks in football."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know I don't follow sports."

Namjoon shook his head in mock disbelief. "Honestly, Tae. Sometimes I wonder how we're related."

Taehyung smirked. "Well, I got the looks."

Y/N groaned. "And the humility."

Their banter eased the remaining tension, a familiar rhythm that brought a sense of normalcy back into the room.

"I'll talk to Jungkook as soon as he calls," Taehyung promised. "We'll figure something out."

"Thanks," Namjoon said sincerely.

Y/N rested a hand on Namjoon's arm. "You're doing a good thing."

He met her gaze, his expression softening. "Just trying to make sure everyone has a good Christmas."

She nodded. "And we appreciate it."

The doorbell rang, surprising them all.

"Expecting someone?" Taehyung asked.

Y/N shook her head. "No."

Namjoon went to answer it, and moments later, he called back, "Hey, Y/N, it's Mrs. Lee!"

Y/N exchanged a curious glance with Taehyung before heading to the door.

Ji-woo stood on the porch, a tentative smile on her face. "Hi, sorry to drop by unannounced."

"Not at all," Y/N replied warmly. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded. "I just wanted to thank you all. Namjoon mentioned you were looking into the HOA situation."

"Of course," Y/N said. "We're happy to help."

Ji-woo hesitated. "Also, I was wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner tomorrow night. Just a small get-together. My brother's in town, and it'd be nice to get to know the neighbors."

Y/N felt that flutter in her chest again. "We'd love to."

"Great," Ji-woo said, her smile growing. "I'll see you then."

As she walked back across the street, Y/N closed the door, leaning against it for a moment.

"Well?" Taehyung prompted.

"We're invited to dinner tomorrow," she said, trying to sound casual.

"Awesome," he said, already heading back to the couch. "Free food."

Namjoon gave her a knowing look. "Sounds like an opportunity."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. "Maybe."

"Just don't forget to breathe if you meet your football hero," he teased.

"I'll manage," she retorted.

And as she glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of lights starting to twinkle across the street, she allowed herself to hope.

Hoseok glanced in the rearview mirror of his SUV, catching sight of Maxwell practically vibrating in his car seat. The little guy was a live wire, eyes wide and sparkling like he'd just discovered superheroes were real—and they all wanted to be his best friend.

"Guessing those cookies were rocket fuel," Hoseok chuckled. "Pretty sure bedtime's canceled tonight."

"You're really coming with us to see Santa?" Maxwell asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and a dash of hero worship. It was as if Hoseok had just announced they were flying to the North Pole.

"Wouldn't miss it," Hoseok replied, winking. "Gotta make sure Santa knows what's on my list, too."

"Yes!" Maxwell cheered, pumping his tiny fist in the air. Next to him, Arabella hugged her stuffed penguin a little tighter, her eyes dreamy. "Santa..." she whispered, like the name itself was magic.

Beside him, Ji-woo seemed lighter than she'd been in weeks, a soft smile playing on her lips as she adjusted Arabella's hat. The tension from the HOA drama had eased, at least for tonight.

They drove through streets awash in Christmas lights, the colors reflecting off the windows like a kaleidoscope. When they reached the town square, it was as if they'd stepped into a snow globe. Strings of lights crisscrossed above, a giant tree stood proudly in the center, and the air was filled with the scent of cinnamon and hope.

"Look at all the lights!" Maxwell exclaimed, pressing his nose against the glass. He was out of his seat the moment the car stopped, dragging Arabella toward the promise of candy canes and reindeer.

Hoseok spotted Namjoon across the way, deep in conversation with a guy who looked like he could bench-press a car. The man's gaze lingered a little too long on Ji-woo, and Hoseok felt a protective twinge.

"Glad you all made it," Namjoon called out, his smile warm enough to melt the snow. "Santa's about to arrive. You don't want to miss it."

Maxwell and Arabella needed no further encouragement—they darted off, laughter trailing behind them like footprints.

Namjoon turned to Ji-woo, his expression shifting to something more serious. "We're still waiting to hear from Jungkook about the HOA situation. Don't worry, we're on it."

The big guy next to him nodded. "We'll make sure your kids get their Christmas back," he said earnestly.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, catching the familiar glint of recognition—and maybe a hint of rivalry—in the man's eyes. He offered a polite smile, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Before any awkwardness could settle in, the jingle of bells filled the air. Santa had arrived, not in a sleigh but in a decked-out pickup truck that somehow felt perfectly fitting. The crowd buzzed with excitement, kids bouncing on their toes.

Leading the procession was an elf with a bounce in her step and... Hoseok did a double take. Was her skirt tucked into her tights? He felt his cheeks heat up as he realized he recognized that particular shade of embarrassment.

That was jogger girl.

She was mortified, her face the color of holly berries as Namjoon discreetly fixed her skirt. She shot him a grateful, exasperated look. "Thanks, Joon," she mumbled.

"You're killing me, kid," he replied, shaking his head but smiling fondly.

Their eyes met for just a second—just long enough for Hoseok to catch that flicker of recognition, and maybe a bit of horror, in Y/N’s expression. He offered a small, sympathetic smile, the kind that says, It’s fine. We all have moments like this.

Pushing past whatever had unsettled her, Y/N fixed her elf hat and raised her voice, unwavering and bright, “Who’s ready to see Santa?”

A chorus of kids shouted back, “We are!” and just like that, everything felt easier. Arabella, looking serious and determined, walked straight up to Santa and climbed onto his lap without waiting for a nod or a smile. Santa seemed surprised but took it in stride.

“Well, hello there,” he said, steadying her. “What’s your name?”

“Arabella.” She paused, as if making sure he was paying attention. “I want our lights back.”

He blinked. “Your lights?”

“Our Christmas lights,” she explained. “The colorful ones that make our house happy.”

Hoseok felt a tightening in his chest. Arabella always got right to the point. No dancing around what mattered most.

Y/N stepped forward, her voice gentle, “Maybe Santa can help,” she suggested, meeting Hoseok’s eyes for a moment before turning back to Santa.

“Maybe I can,” Santa agreed, handing Arabella a small gift. She took it solemnly, thanked him, and slid off his lap. “Don’t forget,” she reminded him quietly as she walked back.

Ji-woo knelt down to Arabella’s level. “Do you want to open it now?” she asked.

Arabella shook her head firmly. “Max,” she said, making it clear she’d wait for her brother.

“Max, get over here!” Hoseok called, spotting Maxwell still chatting away with Santa, rattling off a mile-long wish list. Max finally darted over, breathless and grinning, and tore into his own present: a Lego police helicopter set. His eyes went huge, and he practically vibrated with excitement, already planning how he’d build it the second they got home.

Arabella, satisfied that her brother was taken care of, carefully unwrapped her gift. Inside was a plush Rudolph with a glowing red nose. Her serious expression softened. She held it up for them to see, then patted the ground beside her. “Read,” she insisted.

Hoseok didn’t hesitate. He sat right down on the cold pavement and took the little storybook that came with Rudolph. His voice was low and comforting as he read aloud. Everyone around them seemed to settle, leaning in, as if drawn by the warm circle of sound he created. Y/N found herself smiling. There he was, Hoseok—star athlete, local hero—sitting cross-legged in the town square, reading Christmas stories to a little girl who trusted him completely.

Arabella climbed into his lap without a second thought. He adjusted the book, making sure she stayed cozy. This wasn’t some perfect holiday postcard scene; it was just… real. Hoseok had a soft spot for his family. Watching him like this made Y/N’s heart ache in a sweet, unexpected way.

Namjoon, standing beside her, watched too. Pride and tenderness shone through his normally reserved gaze. He might look like the kind of guy who’d keep you at arm’s length, but around family, he melted. Y/N nudged him with her elbow, smiling. “If you keep staring, you’ll turn into a puddle.”

Namjoon chuckled quietly. “Can you blame me? That’s some top-tier uncle behavior.”

Y/N laughed. “You should be taking notes.”

“I am,” he said, straight-faced, which made her laugh again.

Meanwhile, Santa—Seth, actually—wandered off, muttering something about needing an ice pack, looking as if he’d just run a marathon instead of meeting kids all day. Y/N shook her head, amused, and headed back toward Namjoon and Ji-woo.

Namjoon kept half an eye out for Taehyung, who’d disappeared earlier. Taehyung had been trying to reach Jungkook about the HOA mess and the banned Christmas lights. Just then, Taehyung returned, looking both frustrated and determined.

“B’s livid,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “She’s got a lawyer looking into the HOA’s charter.”

Ji-woo sighed, glancing over at Arabella curled up with Hoseok. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Taehyung leaned in, lowering his voice. “Apparently the ban on colored lights was voted in by the homeowners after the fact. But if it was voted in, it can be voted out too.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Five bucks says Tiff and Rachel orchestrated the whole thing. They never let anyone just live their lives without making it about their rules.”

Namjoon’s mouth twitched, annoyed. “If those two are involved, there’s no shortage of shady behavior.”

Around them, the square glowed with holiday lights, kids played with new toys, and Hoseok’s voice continued steady and clear, reading to Arabella. It all felt unexpectedly warm and meaningful. If they had to go head-to-head with a cranky HOA to keep this feeling, so be it.

Hoseok’s voice carried over to them, calm and thoughtful. “If it was voted in, it can be voted out, right?” he asked, looking at Taehyung. Arabella’s head rested trustingly against him, her Rudolph still glowing.

Taehyung sighed. “Yeah, but it requires seventy-five percent approval. And we don’t have voting rights. We never got around to joining the HOA officially, and even if we did now, we wouldn’t be able to vote until next year.”

Y/N frowned. “Why didn’t I know about these votes? I never saw a single notice.”

Taehyung shrugged. “We bought early on. The HOA was still forming. And we don’t use their services—we handle our own lawn care—so we don’t get their updates. The other houses get lawn care and newsletters. We’re sort of on the outside.”

Y/N shot him a look. “Not everyone has the time to peek through blinds and track the neighbors’ every move, Tae.”

Namjoon cut in gently, “Play nice,” his voice carrying that quiet authority that ended squabbles before they started.

Taehyung cleared his throat. “Anyway, we don’t have standing to vote right now.”

Hoseok leaned back, thinking it through, his brow furrowing. “If we’re not part of it, are we even bound by their rules?” he asked.

Taehyung hesitated. “Technically, no. But I’m in a tricky position. Jungkook’s my friend and my boss. I’m supposed to follow the spirit of the rules, set a good example.”

Y/N noticed the determined light in Hoseok’s eyes. He’d just had an idea—that look said as much. And once Hoseok had a plan, he didn’t give up easily.

He straightened up carefully, making sure not to jostle Arabella as she slept against him, and then locked eyes with Taehyung. “I get it—you want to set a good example. But just hear me out. I think I’ve got an idea.”

Taehyung stiffened, like he already knew where this was going. “Hoseok, if this is about—”

“Let him talk,” Y/N said, her voice gentle but steady. “There’s no harm in listening.”

Taehyung exchanged a quick, resigned glance with Y/N—then with Ji-woo—and finally let out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll listen. No promises, though.”

Ji-woo gave Taehyung’s arm a light squeeze, an encouraging smile softening the tension. “Thanks. Sometimes his ideas are… a lot. But you never know, this one might actually be good.”

A small group of neighbors had drifted closer, curious eyes and quiet whispers surrounding them. Hoseok stood there, holding his niece like it was the most natural thing in the world, radiating a calm confidence that felt comforting, even to Y/N. He seemed so at home right here, right now, as if he’d been part of their crowd from the very start.

Hoseok glanced over at Maxwell, who was practically sleepwalking on his feet. “Maybe we should get these two home?” he suggested to Ji-woo, tilting his head toward the sleepy kids.

Ji-woo nodded right away, ushering them forward. “Yes. Let’s move this party back home.”

As they headed down the street, Hoseok shot Y/N a quick wink. It was casual, but it lit a tiny spark in the cold air. Taehyung noticed, of course, and let out a barely contained huff.

“That wink,” he grumbled, as if it might be the first domino in a chain of questionable decisions. Y/N could see that something about Hoseok got under Taehyung’s skin in a way he wouldn’t admit. She bumped his shoulder lightly.

“Relax, Tae,” she teased. “It’s just a wink.”

But Taehyung’s brow stayed knitted. “We’ll see,” he muttered.

Back in Ji-woo’s living room, the mood was tense despite the cozy lamps and the warm hum of the fireplace. Namjoon stood firmly in Hoseok’s corner, championing every idea Hoseok tossed out—like challenging the HOA or rallying the neighbors for a vote. Taehyung tried to get a word in, but every time he did, Namjoon countered with all the reasons they had to fight. He even suggested calling Jimin, their cousin who was the town sheriff, if things turned messy. It was a whole parade of big personalities with strong opinions, and Taehyung looked ready to pop.

Sitting curled up in her favorite armchair, Y/N decided it was time to mediate. “Joon, we hear you,” she said, leveling her gaze at him before looking at Taehyung. “But let’s give Taehyung some space to explain his side. And what if we ask Jungkook and Blair to weigh in too? If they back this plan, maybe Taehyung will feel better.”

Taehyung’s relief was almost tangible. “Yes—please. Call Jungkook and Blair. If we get them on board, I can at least know we’re not going rogue.”

He shot Hoseok an apologetic look. “I know you’ve got to get back to Denver soon,” he said, trying to sound casual but clearly feeling guilty. “I don’t want to mess with your playoff prep. I get that the kids should have a great Christmas. I just need you to understand my side.”

Y/N snorted, unable to resist teasing him a bit. “Tae, you’re sounding so diplomatic I’m waiting for Mr. Berty from fourth grade to show up and give you a gold star.” When Taehyung subtly flipped her the bird, she stifled a giggle.

Sighing dramatically, Taehyung relented. “Okay, fine. I’ll call Jungkook. Blair’s usually the easier sell, anyway.”

Namjoon nodded briskly, making a hurry-up motion. “Don’t just stand there. Make the call.”

Taehyung eyed the clock. “It’s after nine, bro. Isn’t this late?”

Namjoon smirked. “Jungkook doesn’t sleep before midnight, and Blair’s like a wind-up toy that never stops. They’ll pick up.”

With a low groan, Taehyung disappeared into the kitchen, phone already ringing. His muttering faded into the next room.

With him gone, Y/N decided it was time to shift gears. “The kids had such a blast tonight,” she said softly, hoping to ease the tension. “Arabella’s practically welded to that Rudolph, and Max… I mean, good luck getting him to think about anything besides that helicopter set now.”

Ji-woo’s expression warmed. “I’m just glad they had fun. Poor Santa Seth, though. He looked wiped out.”

Namjoon laughed. “Don’t worry about Seth. Beth’s probably got him on a steady regimen of ice packs and hot chocolate. That man’s taken bigger hits. Kids can be ruthless.”

Hoseok chimed in, his tone curious. “I saw there was a food drive. Is there a big need around here?”

Namjoon’s easygoing demeanor faded slightly as he explained. “It’s better now than a few years ago, but this place took a hit. The mill closed down some lines, people lost jobs. Recovery’s slow. Especially this time of year.”

Y/N nodded, voice quieter. “Lots of families are on the edge. You’d be surprised how many work full-time but still can’t get by. I’ve volunteered at the food bank. People slip through the cracks.”

Hoseok’s brow creased thoughtfully. “That’s awful. Every place I’ve played, I try to give back. My old coach used to say, ‘They show up for us, we show up for them.’ It stuck with me.”

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “Your coach sounds like a good person.”

Hoseok grinned. “One of the best. He’d ream me out after a bad game, but he never missed a chance to remind me what really mattered.”

Ji-woo laughed. “When he got drafted, I’m not sure who cried more—Coach or Dad.”

Just then, Taehyung reappeared. He looked relieved—less tense around the eyes. “Blair says they’ll be here tomorrow after five. Her dad’s visiting—first holiday without her mom—so they’re hosting him, but they’ll swing by.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Walter Reid’s a big name. When he weighs in, people listen.”

Y/N leaned over, giving Taehyung a quick side hug, feeling the unspoken weight he’d been carrying. “You’ve done everything you can.”

Namjoon nodded approvingly. “You did good, Tae.”

Ji-woo and Hoseok nodded too, their quiet solidarity reassuring him. And Taehyung, for the first time that night, allowed himself a long, steady breath and a small, hopeful smile. Maybe this Christmas would turn out all right after all.

The next evening, Jungkook and Blair Jeon showed up, each of them so strikingly different that Y/N’s head spun a little just looking at them. Jungkook was tall, solid as a cedar, with neatly combed black hair and eyes so warm and steady they felt like a campfire you could settle around for hours. He was the kind of person who didn’t waste words—he only spoke when it counted, and when he did, everyone leaned in.

Blair, meanwhile, was all sparks and fizz—blonde curls that bounced with every step, bright blue eyes that darted around the room, making sure she never missed a thing. She didn’t have to say a word to shift the energy; her presence alone brightened corners that had been dull five seconds ago. Even with their differences, it was clear they both cared fiercely, like they shared a quiet agreement: kindness first, always.

And then there was Walter Reid, Blair’s father, who seemed to take up more space than he actually occupied. He was tall and broad, his silver hair perfect, his face etched with lines that said he’d lived through more than anyone else in the room. He didn’t bother with unnecessary smiles. He didn’t need them—his eyes said he could see right through every half-truth and polite lie.

As Y/N explained the plan to bring back the Christmas lights that the HOA had so rudely snuffed out, Walter watched silently, his gaze like a judge’s final verdict waiting to be delivered. Ji-woo flipped through old photos, spreading them like evidence on a coffee table: once upon a time, this neighborhood had shimmered in December. Now, thanks to a few power-hungry board members, it looked like Christmas had decided to skip town.

Blair was practically hopping with frustration. “I’m telling you, Tiffany and Rachel are behind this,” she said, jabbing a photo as if it might give in and confess. Y/N nodded, unsurprised. Tiffany Wallace and Rachel McDonald were the type who wanted things their way and never bothered to pretend otherwise.

Hoseok stood beside Y/N, noticing—despite his best efforts—how good she looked in that cozy sweater and jeans. He tried to refocus, to catch up on whatever Walter and Blair were discussing. But it was hard when Y/N looked so at ease here, like this room and these people and these problems were all part of some soft tapestry he’d just been invited into.

“Babygirl, let me see those charter amendments,” Walter said to Blair, voice low and gravelly. Blair handed over the papers, still scowling. Walter’s eyes skimmed the text. “Recent changes,” he murmured. “Voted in by a slim majority. That means it wouldn’t take much to push them back out.”

Jungkook leaned in, nodding. “We just need the neighbors on board. Half of them probably don’t even know the rules changed. If we show them what’s going on, we could turn this thing around.”

Blair’s mood shifted from fury to determination in a flash. “Then that’s what we do,” she said, clapping her hands. “We bring them all in. We light the match.”

Y/N smiled, relieved. “We’ll organize a meeting. Show them they have a choice. People want Christmas back—they just need to believe they can have it.”

Hoseok grinned too, leaning forward, his voice warm. “I can help. I mean, I’ve got a few fans who might show up if it means Christmas lights and a selfie or two.”

Y/N glanced his way, heart feeling unexpectedly full. He wanted to be part of this, part of her world. It was a small thing—just lights, really—but something about the way he jumped right in touched her.

Walter eyed them all, unmoved, as if still deciding if this fight was worth the trouble. “What’s this got to do with me?” he asked flatly.

“Daddy, it’s not right,” Blair repeated, for maybe the hundredth time that night, each time with the exact same fierce conviction.

Jungkook rested a calming hand on her shoulder. “Let your dad take a look, Blair. We need his advice.”

Blair huffed, but she let Walter read. He turned pages with the careful patience of a man who’d picked apart trickier contracts in his time. When he finally spoke, his words were measured: “If you go public, you might draw attention you don’t want. The media could twist this. Make the HOA look like victims. Could complicate other projects in the pipeline.”

Blair looked ready to explode. “Who would side with the HOA?” she demanded, incredulous.

Walter’s gaze shifted to Hoseok, and this time his tone was almost fatherly. “You’re not just any guy off the street, kid. You’re a Seahawk. Your team’s PR isn’t going to love seeing you in a local tug-of-war.”

Hoseok grimaced, realizing Walter had a point. “I’ll check with them,” he said, sounding reluctant.

A tense hush settled over the room until Namjoon stepped out quietly. When he returned, he had Arabella in his arms, half-asleep and clinging to Rudolph. Y/N shot him a questioning look, but Namjoon just smiled and walked over to Walter.

“This is Ari,” he said softly. “Ari, meet Mr. Reid.”

Arabella blinked, clutching her Rudolph and peering at Walter with big, curious eyes. She gave him a tiny wave, all quiet courage and bedtime drowsiness.

Namjoon set her down next to the photos. Arabella, so serious for someone so small, pointed at the pictures. “Lights,” she said firmly, “Santa. Fix. Please.”

You could almost see Walter’s armor crack. He let out a weary sigh, running a hand through his silver hair. “Oh hell. Fine. Just keep it low-key, all right?”

Namjoon’s grin could have lit up a stadium. “Thank you,” he said, clapping Walter on the shoulder. Walter rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement there. “I knew you wouldn’t say no,” Namjoon teased lightly. “Marine training teaches you how to get results.”

Arabella squealed, hugging Namjoon’s leg. Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Maybe things were still complicated, and maybe they’d have to tread carefully. But at least they had a green light. At least they weren’t alone.

Hoseok’s eyes found Y/N again. He liked the way her smile looked in the soft lamplight. Liked that he was seeing her not just as some passing figure in his off-season life, but as someone he wanted to know more deeply. There was a story beginning here—one that he hoped they’d have time to tell.

Later that night, Y/N stood on her front lawn, arms folded over her coat, taking it all in. The new decorations weren’t over-the-top, but they were just enough. An eight-foot inflatable Santa beamed merrily at the snow, and multicolored lights wound around the porch and windows like cheerful ribbons. The whole place glowed. Across the street, Arabella pressed her hands and nose against the window, eyes gone huge with delight. Y/N smiled, feeling a tiny spark inside her chest—this was Christmas at its best, all bright colors and gentle wonder, nothing more complicated than a kid’s joy.

Walter had already taken off back to Denver, warning Y/N to brace for any fallout. But Y/N wasn’t worried. She knew how small towns worked: people loved their drama soft and manageable, like a soap opera they could switch off after dinner. Tiffany and Rachel would probably have plenty to say, but real consequences? She doubted it. If anything, it would all just turn into good old-fashioned grocery aisle gossip.

Inside, she could hear laughter drifting in from the living room. By the time she slipped back in, Blair had commandeered the couch—three glasses of wine deep—and was grinning at the ceiling like it had just told her the best joke in the world. Y/N had barely shut the door when Blair’s voice floated through the room, slurred and enthusiastic:

“He’s hot. You should totally tap that.”

Y/N stumbled, wide-eyed, nearly dropping her keys. “I’m sorry, what now?”

Blair rolled her head toward Y/N, eyes sparkling with a wine-soaked confidence. “Hoseok Jung!” she repeated, waving a hand dramatically. “Girl, hop on that train. Enjoy the ride.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flare with heat. Blair’s bluntness wasn’t new, but this was... a lot. “Blair,” she sputtered, trying for stern and failing. “He’s leaving tomorrow. He’s got a life in Denver, and I have classes. It’s not exactly a meet-cute that’s going to last, okay?”

“Ugh, whatever,” Blair said, swiping the air dismissively. “You can teach and have a life. And if he’s half as good in bed as he is on the field, you’re basically signing up for fireworks.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. She glanced around as if the furniture might be judging her. “Blair!” she hissed, but a laugh slipped out despite her best efforts.

Blair smirked, taking another sip of her “truth juice.” “Oh, come on. After that jerk Garrett took off with Kate, don’t you think you deserve a little... holiday cheer? I’m not suggesting you run away and elope, just... sample the goods. I saw the way Hoseok looked at you.”

Y/N snatched at Blair’s wineglass, but Blair evaded with surprising agility for someone so tipsy. “I think you’ve had enough,” Y/N said, breathlessly, cheeks still warm.

Blair raised a brow, wiggling it like some kind of cartoon villain. “Don’t try to silence me. You know I’m right. You’ve been Miss Responsible for way too long. Let your hair down. Have fun. Specifically, have fun with a hot football player who’s clearly into you.”

Y/N let out a disbelieving laugh, reaching again for the glass. This time Blair conceded with a playful sigh, handing it over. “Fine, fine,” Blair said, leaning back like a starlet. “But remember my words when you’re old and gray: truth flows from the grapes.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, still smiling as she set the wine on the counter. But just as quickly as she dismissed Blair’s teasing, Hoseok’s face floated into her mind. She could picture him so clearly—his easy grin, the way he’d settled on the floor to read to Arabella, how natural he’d looked in this little world that wasn’t his. And, okay, yes... that spark in his eyes when he’d looked her way.

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to talk herself down. He was leaving tomorrow. Their lives were galaxies apart. He was... famous, for crying out loud. And she was a teacher with a comfortable, ordinary life. It’s just a silly crush, she told herself. A harmless holiday daydream.

From the couch, Blair’s voice drifted lazily: “I saw that look! You’re into him.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, flicking off the kitchen light and grabbing a blanket. She returned to the living room and draped it over Blair’s shoulders. “Go to sleep, B,” she said softly.

Blair’s eyes fluttered half-closed, a grin still tugging at her lips. Y/N watched her friend settle into a dozy contentment. The room fell quiet, the only sounds a distant car on a snowy street and the soft hum of the heater. For a moment, it felt like the whole house was holding its breath.

Y/N sank onto the edge of the recliner, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. She tried to imagine what tomorrow would feel like. Hoseok would head back to Denver, back to his team, his life. She’d keep teaching, keep living in this small town full of neighborly squabbles and cozy holiday traditions. Was there a chance something could cross the space between them?

Probably not. But it sure was nice to think about—even if only for tonight. It made her feel warm, a little bit braver, and just maybe, a tiny bit closer to the kind of magic that made ordinary people do extraordinary things.

Hoseok couldn’t get Y/N out of his head. It was like his mind had just grabbed onto the memory of her laugh and refused to let go. The way her grin tilted when she teased her brother, that quick, light-in-her-eyes smile—it all played on a loop behind his eyelids whenever he blinked. Plus, the way she moved, so confident and at ease, made him feel like some eager understudy watching a lead he was dying to impress.

And now, there she was, standing in her front yard, facing down two furious blondes as if they were yapping dachshunds trying to nip at her ankles. He could practically see the invisible line she’d drawn—You shall not pass!—and it made him grin. She looked fierce and steady, even as Blair, three glasses of wine in, half-waltzed, half-wobbled behind her, sloshing red liquid in dangerous arcs.

Inside, Ji-woo hovered near the window, hand poised over the curtain like she wanted to intervene but wasn’t sure if she should. Hoseok got it. Ji-woo had seen enough drama in her life, and from what he understood, some scars still felt fresh. She wasn’t big on conflict, not anymore.

“I’ll go,” Hoseok said, shrugging into his jacket. He could feel Ji-woo’s relief before she even answered. He’d offered partly to help Y/N, partly because he was, let’s face it, pretty smitten, and partly because he just hated seeing Y/N out there alone, dealing with what looked suspiciously like Mean Girls: Christmas Edition.

“Are you sure?” Ji-woo asked, voice low. She bit her lip, glancing out at the scene.

“Yeah,” Hoseok said simply. “I kind of got them into this. The least I can do is back them up.”

He stepped into the chilly night and caught the tail end of the blondes’ complaints. One waved a piece of paper at Y/N, like it was a holy writ and not just a crumpled memo. Blair was still in the background, humming something off-key and offering her wine bottle to an inflatable Santa.

Y/N sighed, exasperated. “Blair, maybe it’s time to go inside.”

Before Blair could respond, she spotted Hoseok like he was the second coming of Christmas. “There he is!” she crowed, pointing. “Hoseok Jung, Y/N! You gotta tap that ass, girl!”

Hoseok nearly choked on a laugh, managing to keep a straight face with heroic effort. He plastered on his best “professional athlete” smile—confident, friendly, utterly unbothered by chaos—and stepped beside Y/N. “Evening, ladies,” he said, voice low and calm. “Is there a problem here?”

The shorter blonde’s eyes went cartoon-wide. “Oh my god, you’re Hoseok Jung!” she squealed, as if she’d just met a unicorn holding a stack of Super Bowl tickets. The other blonde—taller, more scowly—floundered for a moment, caught between annoyance and fangirl bewilderment.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets like it was no big deal. He nodded toward the decorations, the twinkling lights that had caused all this fuss. “My sister lives across the street. Y/N and her friends put these up for her kids. It’s Christmas—just trying to bring a little cheer.”

The taller blonde, Rae, tried to hold onto her scowl but ended up somewhere between a grimace and a pained smile. “They still break HOA rules,” she grumbled, but her tone had lost its teeth.

Hoseok tilted his head, the very picture of reasonable concern. “Y/N doesn’t belong to the HOA, though, right?” he said mildly. “Seems like a misunderstanding. Maybe you could schedule a meeting? I’m heading back to Denver, but Monday’s my day off. I’d be happy to join a neighborhood discussion. Clear the air.”

The blondes exchanged a look that said: We just got invited to a party with a celebrity. Rae cleared her throat. “Monday at seven might work,” she conceded.

“Perfect,” Hoseok said, with a smile so genuine it could’ve warmed a glacier. The shorter blonde sighed dreamily. Rae just nodded, all her bravado melted like butter on hot toast.

Behind them, Blair muttered something triumphant—something involving “bitches” and “booyah”—then promptly leaned against Santa, trying to give him a taste of her wine.

When the blondes drifted off, possibly to brag about their Monday meeting with Hoseok Jung, he turned to Y/N. “Need a hand with Blair?” he asked, already moving to steady her.

Y/N gave him a grateful, lopsided smile. “Please. She’s on a roll tonight.”

Hoseok scooped Blair up like a rowdy toddler and carried her toward the house, Blair giggling and whispering nonsense about quarterbacks and “naughty Santa” in his ear. The whole scene felt like a snapshot from a cozy indie movie—Christmas lights glowing soft around them, warm laughter inside, and Y/N at his side, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Once inside, he deposited Blair gently on the couch. Y/N straightened a bit, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks,” she said softly, arms folding across her chest. “She’s great, but... a handful when she’s had too much wine.”

He laughed, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve seen worse tailgate parties,” he teased. “She’s entertaining.”

Y/N watched her friend burrow into the couch cushions, still clutching the wine bottle as if it were a cherished teddy bear, then turned back to him. Her expression had changed—softened, relaxed. “I guess I owe you one,” she said.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, grinning. “I think we’re even. But I’ll keep the ‘tap my ass’ suggestion on the table,” he added, voice low and playful.

Y/N flushed pink and let out a scandalized laugh. “I can’t believe she said that,” she groaned, hiding her face in her hand for a second.

He shrugged, eyes never leaving hers. “She’s not entirely wrong,” he said, pretending to examine the lights on the wall. “I am pretty tappable, from what I hear.”

She rolled her eyes, giving his arm a gentle, playful shove. “You’re trouble, Jung.”

“Good trouble,” he countered, quiet and sure, something warm slipping into his tone.

In that moment, the world outside seemed to vanish. It was just the two of them in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, Blair’s faint snores in the background, and the distant hum of small-town life wrapping around them like a cozy scarf. Maybe he’d be back in Denver soon, and maybe they lived in different spheres. But right now, Y/N was right here in front of him, and he was more than happy to be a little trouble in her world.

With Blair sound asleep and softly snoring, Y/N suddenly realized something crucial: she was alone with Hoseok. The very Hoseok who’d heard Blair, in her infinite drunken wisdom, tell her to “tap that ass.” Fantastic. Just the scenario you dream of, right?

The air felt charged, like the hush after a good joke and right before everyone breaks into laughter. Y/N tried to find her footing in what always comforted her—simple hospitality. “Want something to drink?” she blurted, her voice coming out way too eager, like she was offering a lifeboat instead of a beverage.

Hoseok smiled, and there was just a hint of mischief in it. “Beer?” he suggested, eyebrows raised like he was testing her.

“Beer. Right. Coming up,” she said, grateful for something to do besides melt on the spot. She practically darted into the kitchen. “Is Corona okay?” she called, relieved to be behind the open fridge door, where he couldn’t see her flushed cheeks.

“Got a lime?” he asked, voice smooth enough to make her heart skip twice.

“Yeah, from taco night,” she said, rummaging around. “Taehyung’s obsessed with the whole lime-and-Corona thing. I think it makes him feel like he’s on some tropical beach, instead of here where the big excitement is a holiday HOA debate.” She rolled her eyes at herself, then handed him the bottle and wedge of lime.

“Nothing wrong with pretending,” Hoseok said, leaning against the counter. His gaze followed her movements so closely that she almost felt like a painting he was admiring. “So… you and Taehyung—twins?”

Y/N laughed as she twisted open her own soda. “Not quite. We’re a year apart. People at school called us the ‘Kim twins’ anyway. He’s tall and broad, and I’m built like my halmeoni. Still, I grew up hearing, ‘Oh, you must be Taehyung’s sister!’ which was my personal favorite.”

Hoseok smiled, something soft and understanding there. “My family’s scattered everywhere. Mom and Dad are in England right now, visiting my uncle. I’m grateful we all stay connected, even if it’s at weird distances.”

Y/N couldn’t help a grin. “Did you pack tights for the trip?” she teased, recalling something about England and stadium traditions—though maybe that was rugby.

He snorted, eyes crinkling. “The closest I have are my uniform pants. Not quite the same look.”

Uniform pants. Y/N’s thoughts took a brief, traitorous journey to how Hoseok probably looked in those uniform pants, and she nearly choked on her soda. Perfect timing, Blair mumbled something incomprehensible from the couch, followed by a muttered “Biotch,” and Hoseok burst into laughter so warm it filled the entire kitchen.

Y/N shook her head, fond but exasperated. “This is mild for her. Last time she hit the tequila, we found her on the roof trying to talk the moon down for a midnight chat. She was, um… not clothed.”

Hoseok’s laughter turned breathless, forcing him to set down his beer. “You’re kidding.”

Y/N held up her hands. “Swear. We got her down eventually, but not before she tried to sing a love ballad to a very startled raccoon.”

They both laughed, but then the mood shifted slightly as Y/N’s smile took on a sympathetic tilt. “This year’s been tough for her. First Christmas without her mom, plus they’re trying to start a family. I think it all just hit her tonight.”

Hoseok’s expression turned gentle, the understanding deepening. “Life sneaks up on you sometimes.”

A soft hush settled between them, a moment that felt more meaningful than anything they’d said. The twinkling Christmas lights in the other room cast a friendly glow, and Y/N wondered if this was how new memories formed—quietly, unexpectedly, in small-town kitchens while someone snored on the couch.

She cleared her throat, feeling the moment tiptoe toward something more intense. “Another beer?” she offered, holding the fridge door open like a shield.

Hoseok shook his head. “One’s enough. I try not to drink too much during the season. Gotta keep my focus.”

“Right, football and all,” Y/N said, stepping back and finding him suddenly closer—so close, in fact, that the scent of him was all warm fabric and subtle cologne. She almost squeaked in surprise but managed to keep it together.

Her breath caught as their eyes met, and suddenly he was there, right there, tilting his head so their faces nearly touched. If she’d wanted to move back, she couldn’t have—she was drawn in, completely, like gravity had decided this exact moment was too perfect to resist.

Then he kissed her. A soft, searching kiss that felt like a secret spoken aloud for the first time. She melted into it, her hands curving over his chest, feeling the heat of him through his sweater. His arms found her waist, and the gentle tension between them turned into something bright and urgent. She barely registered when he lifted her onto the counter, their breaths mingling, his kisses trailing softly down her neck, sending electric sparks skittering beneath her skin.

It was quiet and magical and everything she never knew she wanted at that exact second—until the clomping sound of boots in the hallway snapped her back to reality.

“Hey, Y/N, we got any food?” Taehyung’s voice drifted in, casual and clueless, like a bowling ball striking pins of romantic tension.

They pulled apart as if someone had flipped a switch. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest, and Hoseok’s eyes were still dark and a little dazed. They stared at each other, caught in the aftermath of a perfect, impossible moment.

Taehyung’s footsteps got louder, heading their way. Y/N’s heart sank and soared at the same time. She shot Hoseok a look that said, We are so busted, and tried to smooth her hair, tried to pretend she wasn’t just thoroughly kissing a very famous, very attractive quarterback on her kitchen counter.

As Taehyung popped into view, Y/N forced a bright, shaky smile. But inside, a thousand thoughts danced and collided: He’s leaving soon, we barely know each other, what just happened, what does this mean, oh god oh god oh god.

She met Hoseok’s gaze one more time, and there was that spark again, a promise unspoken. Y/N swallowed hard, knowing her heart might never be the same.

After the kiss—that one kiss that had nearly knocked the air right out of Hoseok’s lungs—it was all he could think about. The memory of Y/N’s lips on his, the way she fit so perfectly against him, how the world had narrowed down to just the two of them… It was like stepping into a lightning storm and being thrilled instead of terrified. Now he was back in Denver, and it felt unreal. Had it been a dream? The more he replayed it, the more he wondered if she was slipping from tangible reality into wistful memory.

He hadn’t seen her since. Not once. He hadn’t even gotten her number—who did that in this day and age? It wasn’t until Monday, as he was sitting behind the wheel, driving back into the heart of Salida, that he realized how much was still unsaid. He’d told himself the HOA meeting was what drew him back, but deep down he knew better. He was here because of her, because he needed to know if that kiss had spun her world off its axis the way it had spun his.

Pulling into Ji-woo’s driveway, he couldn’t help but look straight across the street at the Kims’ house. Twinkling lights decorated the front yard in a way that seemed to laugh at the stuffy HOA rules. Arabella spotted him from the porch and let out a squeal that lit up her entire face—her delight so real and honest it warmed him from the inside out. Family was why he’d returned; he reminded himself of that. But even as he swept Arabella into a bear hug, laughing as she pointed excitedly at the lights, his mind drifted to another face entirely.

Ji-woo caught his eye, smirking just a little, like she knew exactly what was going on in that head of his. “She’s been waiting for you,” she said, voice light, but her tone held a deeper note—an understanding, maybe even approval.

Arabella waved at the lights, riled up with holiday glee. “Uncle Hobi, lights!” she insisted, as if he hadn’t noticed them glowing in the twilight.

“That’s right, kiddo,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I’m gonna do my best to make sure they stay right where they are.” Arabella’s grin was like a stamp of approval all on its own. Still, his mind kept wandering, drifting across the street, wondering if Y/N was inside right now, maybe looking out the window, remembering their last encounter the way he did.

He tried to ground himself with small talk. “Did you catch the game yesterday?” he asked Arabella, fully aware of her likely answer.

“No ball!” she announced primly, wrinkling her nose like football was the lamest invention ever. Hoseok chuckled and set her down, just in time to see a familiar Kia pulling into the Kims’ driveway.

Y/N stepped out, looking effortlessly put together in grey slacks and a soft pink sweater, a black coat draped over her arm. She moved with a kind of quiet grace that made Hoseok’s heart skip. From the way she carried herself, to the gentle curve of her smile—he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Hey, neighbors!” she called, voice ringing softly through the crisp air. “Ready for tonight?” There was that easy warmth to her tone, the slightest lift at the end like an invitation.

Hoseok tried for nonchalance, even as his pulse fluttered. “Looking forward to it,” he said, hoping he sounded as smooth as he was trying to be.

Her gaze lingered on him a heartbeat longer than necessary. “If you want to come by beforehand, Tae’s making pizza, and I’ve got brownies.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but her eyes flicked to him again, and the corner of her mouth curved in a secret smile that set off sparks under his skin.

Arabella squealed, clearly sold at the mere mention of brownies. Ji-woo laughed, holding her back. “I think she likes your idea,” she said, and Y/N answered with a light laugh of her own.

“Come whenever,” Y/N said, still looking at Hoseok. “Unless you have other plans?” There was a playful note in her voice, a gentle challenge. He swallowed, trying to find words, but Ji-woo jumped in first.

“Oh, we’ll be there,” Ji-woo said decisively, shooting him a look that said Don’t even think about backing out, buddy.

Y/N gave a small nod, that small smile still in place, before heading inside. Hoseok watched her go, his mind whirring with a hundred questions, a thousand hopes. He’d barely stepped foot back in town, and already they had dinner plans. He didn’t know what tonight would bring, but he was buzzing with anticipation—like he was on the field, seconds before the play that could change everything.

“Dinner with the Kims, huh?” Ji-woo teased, eyebrows raised, her voice sing-song with suggestion. Maxwell appeared out of nowhere, eyes big. “Did someone say brownies?”

Hoseok ruffled Maxwell’s hair absently. “And pizza,” he said, though he was only half-present. His thoughts were already across the street, trying to parse every smile, every lifted eyebrow Y/N had offered.

Inside the house, he could feel the warmth of family wrapping around him—but tonight, he wanted more than that. He wanted a moment alone with her. He needed to know if that night in the kitchen, their kiss full of promise and possibility, was just a beautiful blip… or the start of something bigger. Tonight, he might just find out.

Inside, Y/N felt like every one of her nerves had decided to start a chorus line on her spine. Holy hell—Hoseok was back in town, and he looked better than any memory could do justice. Her thoughts skittered around that kiss they’d shared once, the kiss that still had the power to make her heart pound whenever it popped into her head. She’d replayed it in her mind more times than she’d care to admit, always wondering if it had knocked him off-balance as much as it had rattled her. And now he was here, standing at her door again. If there was any fairness in the world, they’d get a second take on that unforgettable moment.

But first, there was her brother. Taehyung had a flair for throwing a wrench into her plans. “Tae!” she hollered up the stairs, trying not to sound frantic. “Get down here! Ji-woo, Hoseok, and the kids are on their way, and Joon’s coming, too!”

“Already in the kitchen, sis!” came his voice, and relief swam through her. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a chaos-fest after all.

She found him amid a pizza-making operation so elaborate it could’ve been a culinary art exhibit. Pizza crusts spread out like blank canvases, toppings arranged in tidy rows, Taehyung wielding an olive oil brush as if he were painting a masterpiece. He glanced over his shoulder, giving her a casual shrug.

“I figured the kids could make their own pizzas,” he said, as if it were no big deal. “We can handle a few personal pies at once.”

Y/N stepped closer, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You know, you can be really sweet, Tae,” she teased, going in to pinch his cheek. He dodged with a mock-flex of his bicep.

“And don’t forget good-looking,” he tossed back, striking a ridiculous pose that made her roll her eyes.

“Stop that,” Y/N said, stifling a laugh. “You’ll scare the kids.”

They laughed together, comfortable and teasing, until the doorbell rang. Y/N ran a quick hand through her hair, adjusted her bra strap, tried to look casual. For the kids, sure, but mostly for their uncle. She flicked on the Christmas tree lights and opened the door just in time to see Maxwell rocket inside, followed by Ji-woo wielding a giant salad bowl. And then, Hoseok. He entered with Arabella perched in his arms, the sight of him so effortlessly handsome that Y/N’s breath hitched. Seriously, how did he manage to look even better than the last time?

“Brought salad,” Ji-woo announced, smiling warmly.

“Perfect,” Y/N said, ushering them all in. “We’ll need something green to balance all the carbs.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “Tae’s got a pizza station set up. The kids can go wild.”

Maxwell and Arabella shot off like tiny comets, squealing at the prospect of decorating their own pizzas. Arabella paused only to nod solemnly at Y/N’s Christmas tree, as if granting it royal approval, before joining her brother.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else—but then she felt a gentle tug on her hand. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Hoseok, standing much closer than expected. His eyes held a warm gleam, and she felt a flutter low in her stomach.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice pitched for her ears only.

“Hi,” she managed, just before he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers—a light, quick kiss that somehow still rattled her bones. It was shy and bold all at once, and it made that memory of their first kiss crackle back to life, reminding her just how good they’d been together.

“You never gave me your number,” he teased, dark eyes dancing.

She feigned nonchalance. “You never asked,” she said, a playful lift in her brow.

“I’m asking now,” he grinned, extending his phone.

She typed her number carefully, trying to keep her fingers steady and her face neutral, then handed it back with a smile. “There, now you have it.”

Before Hoseok could respond, two solid knocks rattled the door. Namjoon stepped inside like a man on a mission, still in his captain’s uniform, scanning the room as if expecting to find mischief afoot.

“Kid, you’ve gotta start locking that door,” he scolded, but Y/N just rolled her eyes.

“It’s Salida, Dad. We’re fine.” She motioned everyone toward the kitchen. “Tae’s making pizza, come on.”

Namjoon’s gaze landed on Hoseok. “Good game, son,” he said, giving a respectful nod. “Pizza ready?”

“Tae’s on it,” Y/N answered, slipping away from Hoseok with a quick, secret smile. She noticed Hoseok’s eyes following her—like he was reluctant to let her out of his sight—and her heart stumbled a little.

Namjoon grunted appreciatively. “If architecture doesn’t pan out, that boy could open a pizzeria.”

Y/N snorted. “Sure, because working for one of the biggest developers in the West isn’t enough for him. He needs a pizza empire.”

As if summoned by his new entrepreneurial calling, Taehyung appeared with the kids, all wearing holiday aprons. Maxwell’s had snowmen, Arabella’s had Santas, and Taehyung’s proudly proclaimed ‘Got Mistletoe?’ Hoseok joined them, kneeling down to admire the toppings. The kitchen swelled with laughter and chatter as everyone piled their pizzas high.

Soon, Ji-woo’s salad was making rounds, and they hovered together, waiting for the pizzas to bake. The air smelled like yeast and tomato sauce and spices. Light bounced off shiny ornaments on the Christmas tree just beyond the kitchen doorway. It felt like the set of a warm holiday special, the kind you watched curled up under a blanket.

Jungkook and Blair arrived, drawn by the promise of good food and the evening’s impending drama at the HOA meeting. Blair was especially giddy, eyeing the brownies and pizza like party favors at a carnival. But Hoseok barely noticed them. He was watching Y/N, watching the way she laughed with her family, the way she moved around the kitchen so naturally, as if this place had a gravity all its own, pulling them all closer.

Namjoon snagged a brownie, chewing thoughtfully before turning to Y/N with a mock-serious glare. “I’m gonna need these at the station’s potluck,” he said, lips quirking into a grudging smile. “Yoongi will have my head if I don’t show up with something good.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Magic word?”

Namjoon made a show of pouting. “Pleease, Sissy?” He drew it out until Y/N burst into laughter. The sound rang bright and clear, filling the room with an easy, loving warmth.

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, completely enchanted. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at home in a place that wasn’t really his home at all. The memory of their brief kiss hummed in his veins, a promise that maybe this moment, this feeling, didn’t have to be temporary. Maybe it could lead somewhere real.

As he sat there, watching Y/N tease her dad, saw Taehyung and Jungkook ganging up on Namjoon with good-humored glee, and caught Arabella’s serious nod of approval for every single topping choice… Hoseok realized something. He wasn’t just attracted to Y/N. He was drawn to the life around her, the family she was part of, the easy, genuine way she cared for the people in her orbit.

She looked back at him then, as if sensing his thoughts, and in that glance was everything: the memory of their kiss, the humor in their banter, and a hint of something else—something hopeful and warm and bright, like a candle flickering to life in the dark.

Hoseok turned as Taehyung nudged him, offering a fresh plate of brownies with a conspiratorial wink. He took one, smiling as he popped it into his mouth. Sure, there was a meeting later and a hundred unresolved questions. But right now, in this laughing, glowing kitchen, Hoseok could believe that he’d found something worth holding on to—and her name was Y/N.

At the HOA meeting that night, Tiffany and Rachel swept in like it was some Saturday night hotspot—clicking heels, sequined dresses catching the fluorescent lights in a way that felt more tragic than glamorous. Blair had to step outside to control her laughter, and when she came back, her shoulders still shook quietly. The rest of them huddled in folding chairs that squeaked when you leaned back too far, trying not to stare too openly at the spectacle.

Tiffany and Rachel took their seats at the front beside old Scott Watts Sr., who looked about eighty and seemed to be only halfway tuned in. His son, Scott Jr., hovered near him, trying not to look mortified.

“Meeting called to order,” Rachel said in a voice that aimed for regal and landed closer to nasal. She shot Y/N a look that implied the Christmas lights issue was basically a personal vendetta. She even angled a sultry glance at Hoseok, but it landed somewhere between a sneer and the face you make when you realize the milk’s gone sour.

From across the room, Y/N caught Blair’s eye, and they exchanged smirks. If nothing else, this evening would make for some hilarious after-party commentary.

“This is about the clear violation of HOA bylaws,” Rachel droned, lifting her chin, “concerning the Kims’ front yard décor.” She delivered the line like it was a grave sin worthy of excommunication.

“I’ll have the tea,” Scott Sr. mumbled, cutting across Rachel’s speech. People turned and looked at each other in confusion, while Tiffany’s eyes rolled so dramatically Y/N half-expected them to pop out.

Tiffany jumped in next, puffing herself up. “As you know,” she said, “we voted two years ago for strict decoration bylaws to preserve the tasteful image of our neighborhood.”

“Tiff?” Deiondre Park raised her hand from the front row, looking perfectly composed.

“We haven’t opened the floor to comments,” Tiffany snapped, like a principal scolding a rowdy class.

“I believe it’s a clarification, not a comment,” cut in Deiondre’s husband, Jimin, in that measured tone only a traffic judge could master. Tiffany flinched—probably recalling the time she’d tried flirting her way out of a ticket and failed spectacularly.

From the back, someone shouted, “Let her speak!” and murmurings of agreement swelled through the room. Hoseok slid his hand over Y/N’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. A quiet sign: We’ve got this.

“Deiondre,” Rachel said with a huge, fake sigh, “go ahead.”

“I just don’t recall a vote,” Deiondre said, voice steady and confident. “Are there notes from that meeting? Because I’ve never seen them. Nor have I heard these rules mentioned before.”

Heads bobbed, a subtle wave of dissent rippling through the crowd.

“Told you it was shady,” Namjoon whispered to Y/N, crossing his arms. He looked like he was ready to slap metaphorical handcuffs on Tiffany and Rachel.

“I remember something about preferring white lights,” Tanya Hartley called from the back. “Rachel said it was standard for Avalanche properties.”

“Yeah,” Ford Fraserns chimed in, leaning forward with a daring gleam in his eyes. “And who put you two in charge, anyway?”

Rachel stiffened, her shoulders pulling back like a cat about to hiss. “We were voted in, along with Mr. Watts,” she said icily, as if that single sentence held all the authority in the world.

“Where’s that tea?” Scott Sr. mumbled again. This time, more people chuckled quietly. One of the old-timers, Adam Wagener, hollered, “Scotty, turn on your hearing aid!” and got a round of suppressed snorts for his trouble.

“What?” Scott shouted, fumbling with his earpiece. “Are we talking about Christmas lights now?”

“Yep,” Adam said, grinning wide. “And why you’re complaining.”

Scott Sr. threw up his hands. “I’m not! Those two—” he jerked a thumb at Tiffany and Rachel—“kept rattling on about colored lights being trashy. So I turned off my hearing aid. Figured I’d come back when they were done.” The crowd laughed outright now, and Y/N bit her lip to keep it together.

Tiffany flushed, doubling down. “We did have a vote! June 19th, 2022—about community beautification. White lights, no blow-ups.”

“And no gnomes,” Rachel chimed in, glaring at the Lawrences. “No need for entire gnome villages.”

“I’m still with Lee,” James Lawrence retorted. “Who put you two on the throne?”

“We were voted in for four-year terms,” Tiffany said with a smug little smirk. “Two years left.”

Hoseok leaned toward Y/N. “Clueless, isn’t she?” he murmured, amused.

“She lives in her own bubble,” Y/N whispered back, stifling a grin.

Before anyone could continue, Blair nudged Jungkook, and the two of them rose, moving to the front with a steady confidence that quieted the room. Hoseok glanced at Y/N, brows raised. Y/N just shook her head, excitement dancing in her eyes. She had no idea what they were about to do, but she knew it would be good.

Jungkook cleared his throat, his voice easily filling the room. “I’m Jungkook Jeon, and this is my wife Blair Reid-Jeon. Some of you remember me from when I lived in Salida.” A few heads nodded. “I’m also President and CEO of Avalanche Development.”

The entire room stilled. Tiffany and Rachel looked like they’d just realized their glittery dresses were inside out. Blair took over, her tone crisp. “When we built these communities, we wanted them family-friendly and fair. The basic HOA rules are standard. But any amendments—” she held up a binder “—are required to be provided to homeowners in writing.”

Jungkook scanned the crowd. “How many of you received notice of these amendments?” Only two hands went up—Rachel and Tiffany’s husbands. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk.

Jungkook continued calmly. “Since Tiffany and Rachel were elected, twenty-five amendments have been submitted here. Our other developments average six in the same period. That raised some questions.”

Blair nodded. “According to Avalanche policy, if we suspect a board is violating the original agreements, we can suspend that board pending an investigation. During suspension, all changes they enacted are null and void.”

A cheer erupted, applause rattling the folding chairs. Tiffany and Rachel looked as if their sequined dresses had turned into scratchy potato sacks. Their jaws tightened as if physically holding back protest.

Jungkook delivered the final blow, his voice carrying the ring of authority: “Until a new vote is held, Taehyung Kim will serve as the local representative for Avalanche Development.”

The crowd whooped. Taehyung waved, trying and failing to hide his pride. Rachel and Tiffany, thoroughly deflated, gathered their purses and their husbands and slunk out, heads low.

Y/N caught Hoseok’s eye, and he grinned wide. She felt light and triumphant, like something stuck in her throat had finally cleared. Tonight, they’d won back their Christmas lights, their freedom, and their dignity. And maybe, she thought, as Hoseok gave her hand another gentle, reassuring squeeze, they’d won something even sweeter than that.

Y/N leaned into Hoseok, her heart swelling with satisfaction. “I love it when justice is served.”

“Especially with a side of brownies,” Hoseok murmured, draping an arm around her and pulling her close.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N turned to him with a grin. “Well, that was a bit anticlimactic,” she laughed, eyes sparkling with victory. “I was hoping for a full-blown protest.”

Hoseok chuckled, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “There’s always next time.”

Jungkook joined them, his grin mischievous as always. “Blair’s dad and our legal team did some serious digging. A few calls to the homeowners confirmed our suspicions—no one knew about these ‘amendments.’ And Deiondre? She’s ready to lead the charge. Tiffany once tried to charm Jimin out of some speeding tickets, but Deiondre? She’s got a long memory and a grudge.”

“So, can we light up Ji-woo’s yard?” Hoseok asked, glancing at Jungkook with a glint of hope.

“Hell yes,” Namjoon said, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder. “We’ll surprise Ms. Ari with the lights first thing in the morning.”

“And we should get some for our yard, too,” Y/N added, nudging Taehyung with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “Nothing like a little reminder that sneaky business doesn’t pay off.”

Hoseok’s grin widened as he looked at her. “Need a shopping partner?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Why, Mr. Jung, I’d be honored. Think you can handle Target?”

Hoseok winked, making her stomach flutter. “Target’s my secret addiction.”

Laughing, Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the car. “Let’s go before the others catch on!” she whispered with a grin, glancing back to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. “Blair is fascinated by the fact that you can buy toilet paper and cute shoes at the same place!”

They were still laughing as they slid into his SUV. Y/N settled into the cozy warmth, inhaling the scent of him—something spicy and clean with a hint of leather. She could barely focus on anything but him.

“Music?” Hoseok asked as he started the car, giving her a curious look.

She nodded, wondering what he’d choose. When Sam Hunt’s Take Your Time started playing, she raised an eyebrow. “Country?” she teased, grinning.

Hoseok chuckled. “I like a bit of everything. Try not to judge.”

“Same,” Y/N agreed. “Taehyung always jokes that my playlists are the most chaotic thing about me.”

The drive was easy, filled with conversation—his move to Denver, her memories of growing up in Salida, Taehyung’s infamous cooking disaster. By the time they pulled into Target’s empty parking lot, it felt like only minutes had passed.

Inside, Y/N led the way to the Christmas section, fingers trailing over garlands and lights. She picked up a Frosty the Snowman blow-up, then a Grinch one, holding them up with a mischievous grin. “I’m thinking the Grinch right between Tiffany and Rachel’s houses.”

Hoseok laughed, a deep, rich sound that made her heart race. They wandered the aisles, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. At one point, Y/N broke into an off-key rendition of “Say You’ll Be There” by the Spice Girls, and Hoseok watched her, utterly captivated. Every little thing about her pulled him in, until he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to pull away.

“What do you think of these?” Y/N held up a box of large, multicolored retro lights, her eyes bright. “Thinking they’d look great in the windows.”

“They’re perfect,” Hoseok replied, holding up his own find—a large Rudolph blow-up. “Think Arabella will like this?”

“She’ll love it,” Y/N giggled, imagining the little girl’s delight. “She can put it right next to Santa.”

Just then, a young employee approached, wide-eyed as he recognized Hoseok. “Dude, you’re Hoseok Jung,” he whispered, starstruck.

Hoseok gave him a friendly smile. “Hey, Fraser. Could you keep it low-key? My girl and I are just trying to shop.”

The phrase my girl sent a thrill through Y/N’s chest, even if she knew it was just a way to keep things quiet. Still, it felt nice. Really nice.

Fraser looked ecstatic. “No problem. My dad’s a huge fan—he’d never believe I met you.”

“FaceTime him,” Y/N suggested, smiling. She loved making people’s day; it was one of the many things Hoseok admired about her. A few minutes later, Fraser was video chatting with his dad, and Hoseok was chatting and laughing with them both like old friends. At checkout, Fraser even gave them his employee discount as a thank-you, and Y/N, ever the charmer, kissed his cheek, wishing him a happy holiday.

As they stashed their bags in the car, Hoseok reached for her hand again. The touch was electric, and she looked up at him, heart racing as his thumb brushed over her skin.

“So,” Hoseok teased, his voice soft, “should I be jealous of Fraser?”

Y/N laughed, her voice a little breathless. “Oh, please,” she murmured, her lips curling into a smile. And then, without thinking, she closed the distance between them and kissed him.

It was like nothing she’d ever felt—the spark between them igniting into a full, consuming blaze. His lips moved against hers with a heat that left her breathless, her hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer. Every inch of her was alive, responding to him with a rush of want and need she couldn’t control.

Hoseok’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her onto his lap as the kiss deepened. The soft leather seats of the SUV faded away, the world outside disappearing as his mouth claimed hers. His fingers traced the curve of her back, sending delicious shivers down her spine, and Y/N couldn’t think of anything beyond the way he was making her feel.

When he finally pulled back, his breath warm against her skin, he whispered, his voice husky, “You taste so good.”

Her head spun, her heart pounding as she whispered back, “Oh God, Hoseok…”

He groaned, hands tightening on her waist, but managed to pull back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, his voice thick with restraint. “We really need to go,” he muttered, his tone both regretful and amused. “Pretty sure this parking lot isn’t the best place for this.”

“There’s a Motel 6 about ten minutes away,” Y/N teased, a wicked grin on her lips as she nibbled his lower lip.

Hoseok chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes, but there was a seriousness in his voice that sent a flutter through her heart. “Baby, our first time isn’t gonna be in some motel.”

“Damn,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him one last time, slower this time, savoring the taste of him before reluctantly slipping back into her seat. He brushed a soft kiss on her forehead, and even as they sat there in the warm silence, she knew this was far from over. Her body hummed with anticipation, her mind spinning with possibilities. And as Hoseok started the engine, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. One thing was certain—neither of them wanted this night to end.

That weekend, Hoseok had an away game, so he left early Tuesday morning to head back to Denver. But even a hundred miles couldn’t dull the connection between them. The distance didn’t stop them from staying in constant contact, texting, talking, and FaceTiming every chance they got, like their conversations were the only thing holding them together. The weekend flew by in a whirlwind of Broncos’ victory, securing their playoff spot and a first-round bye.

On Monday night, Hoseok’s voice filled her phone with a warmth that made her heart flutter. “Come to Denver for the weekend,” he suggested during their FaceTime call, his tone casual but carrying an unmistakable spark of anticipation. He turned his camera around to show off his sleek, modern condo with city lights twinkling behind the windows. “Stay with me. I’ll even cook my famous tacos.”

“Famous tacos?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning back on her couch with a half-smile, trying to play it cool despite the excitement bubbling in her chest.

“Yep,” Hoseok grinned, amused by her skepticism. “You know the drill: open the yellow box, brown the meat, stir in the seasoning packet, chop some toppings—boom, gourmet masterpiece.” He delivered his ‘recipe’ with mock seriousness, his playful eyes crinkling at the corners.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t you think we should go on an actual date before I spend a weekend at your place, eating your so-called ‘famous tacos’?”

Hoseok’s grin widened. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he said, drawing out her name like it was a melody, teasing her as he leaned closer to the camera, “We’ve already been on plenty of dates. Let’s recap, shall we? First, there was the Christmas party where you dressed as an elf for me. By the way, if you still have that costume, feel free to bring it.” He gave a sly wink that made her cheeks flush.

Y/N covered her face, laughing. “That doesn’t count as a date!”

“Oh, it absolutely counts,” he insisted, barely holding back his own laughter. “Then there was that very classy ‘date’ in your kitchen, where your legs were wrapped around my waist, and your tongue was down my throat—top second date ever.”

“Unbelievable,” Y/N muttered, though her heart raced at the memory, her face heating up.

“We had a double date with your brother and my sister. Sure, Namjoon and the kids were there, but it totally counts,” he said, grinning. “And we went to a show together—the HOA meeting, which was nothing short of a Broadway production.”

Y/N could barely hold it together, laughing so hard she had to wipe her eyes. “So, those were all ‘dates,’ huh?”

“Absolutely,” Hoseok replied, his expression still playful. “And, in some cultures, with how often your tongue’s been in my mouth, we’re practically engaged.”

“Wait, we jumped from dates to being engaged?” she teased, rolling her eyes, though her heart skipped at the word engaged.

“In some cultures,” he replied smoothly, his grin softening. “Which clearly means it’s not too soon for you to come spend the weekend with me—your potential future husband.”

Her laughter faded, replaced by a flicker of nerves and excitement. Potential future husband. The words echoed in her mind, both ridiculous and somehow incredibly sweet. Her heart fluttered, and before she could stop herself, she found herself saying, “Oh hell, Hoseok, who am I to argue with that?”

They ended the call with playful promises, but as she set her phone down, she realized she was pacing her living room, mind whirling with the decision she’d just made. She was going to spend the weekend with Hoseok. At his place.

Was he serious about the ‘practically engaged’ part? She had no idea, but all she could think about was the “naked fun times” he’d hinted at. Her pulse quickened, her skin heating at the memory of their kiss—the way he had touched her, the way she had wanted him.

“Why are you pacing?” Taehyung’s voice broke through her thoughts. He stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

“Just… exercising. Gotta get my steps in,” she lied quickly, definitely not ready to admit the truth—especially not about the “naked fun times.”

Taehyung squinted, clearly unconvinced, but let it go. “Any plans tonight? I thought we could watch Christmas Vacation or something.”

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She’d have to tell him eventually, and maybe sooner was better. Taking a deep breath, she dropped the news as casually as she could. “Actually… I’ll be in Denver this weekend. Hoseok invited me to stay at his place.”

Taehyung’s face lit up with a teasing grin, his eyes sparkling. “Well, well, looks like things are getting serious. Sure you don’t want to stay at my place instead? Save on hotel costs?”

"You mean Jungkook and Blair’s pool house?” Y/N shot back, smirking because she knew exactly what he meant.

“It’s the Tae Cave, don’t you forget it.” Taehyung laughed, and before she knew it, he’d scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing, carrying her toward the front door.

“Put me down, you idiot!” she shrieked, smacking his back while he stumbled onto the lawn.

Taehyung only grinned, unbothered by her protests. “Ji-woo! Y/N agreed to watch the kids tonight!”

From across the lawn, Ji-woo glanced over, giving them both a knowing smile as she tossed a ball to her kids. “Do boys ever grow up?” she asked, her voice full of teasing.

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. “Nope. They’re all Peter Pans at heart.”

Fifteen minutes later, Y/N was back inside, her heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement as she texted Blair.

Y/N: I’m spending the weekend at Hoseok’s place.

Blair: Girl, you better tap that ass!

Y/N: Well… I think I will.

Blair’s response came back instantly, her enthusiasm practically leaping off the screen.

Blair: YES, finally! Go get it, girl! He’s so into you—I can feel it from here!

Y/N set her phone down, her lips curling into a grin that reached her eyes. The weekend stretched out before her like an open road, brimming with possibilities she hadn’t even dared to dream about. But even as she tried to play it cool, there was a nagging question in the back of her mind: What did this mean for them? Was this just a fun weekend fling, or was the connection between her and Hoseok something deeper?

Meanwhile, Hoseok felt like everything was clicking into place. His coach was over the moon about their playoff win, and on the field, he was playing with a fire he hadn’t felt in years. He could already picture that Super Bowl ring on his finger and the pride shining in Namjoon’s eyes. But there was one hurdle he hadn’t quite cleared—dating Namjoon’s little sister without landing on the wrong side of her brother’s protective instincts. If he could navigate that, the Super Bowl would feel like a stroll in the park.

As for the weekend ahead? Hoseok had a different kind of goal in mind—a personal mission that had nothing to do with football.

The doorman buzzed, signaling his guest’s arrival. Hoseok did a quick sweep of the apartment, making sure everything was in order. Steaks rested on the counter, sweet potatoes were warming in the oven, and a bottle of wine sat ready in case Y/N needed a break from her usual whiskey. A bouquet of red and white flowers added a touch of cozy, holiday cheer—perfect for the night they’d come together to reclaim their Christmas spirit.

Just as the elevator dinged, Hoseok rushed to the door and caught sight of Y/N stepping out. She looked a bit stunned but as beautiful as ever, cheeks flushed from the cold and bundled up in her winter coat.

“You made it,” he grinned, stepping forward to pull her into a hug. Her familiar warmth enveloped him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Blair dropped me off,” she murmured into his shoulder, her arms slipping around his neck. “She had to pick up some paperwork. Apparently, they found proof that Rachel was skimming HOA funds—billing for stuff and pocketing the money. They’re pressing charges. Tiffany was just following her lead, but there’s no evidence she took any of it.” She sighed, pulling back to look him in the eye. “And we stopped by Joon’s place so I could grab my suitcase. But he used it last for that cruise, so I had to get it from him. The cruiser was there, but no one answered the door, and I got worried. He���s not exactly young anymore, and his cholesterol isn’t great…”

Hoseok felt a pang of concern tighten his chest. Gently, he guided her inside, leading her to the living room as he closed the door behind them.

“Is Namjoon okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry.

Y/N took a deep breath, her voice flat as she replied, “My brother was having sex with Teagan Carter.” Her words hung in the air, heavy and shocking. “Former Broncos cheerleader Teagan Carter. Blair and I walked in on him… in full doggy style… on the kitchen table where I ate breakfast every day growing up.” Her tone was so deadpan, so matter-of-fact, that Hoseok had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

He’d seen his parents through enough awkward moments to know the trauma, but the image of rule-following Namjoon caught in such an act almost broke his composure. Still, Y/N looked genuinely shaken, so he swallowed his amusement. He wasn’t about to let anything ruin their night.

“Come here, baby,” he murmured, pulling her close and guiding her to the big, squishy sectional in his living room. “Sounds like you could use a strong whiskey.”

He sat her down, brushing a stray hair from her face before heading to the bar. Pouring her a couple of fingers, he handed her the glass, watching as she downed it in one gulp before holding it out for more. He poured a second, and this time, she sipped more slowly.

“Thanks for the flowers,” she said, her voice steadier as she glanced over at the festive bouquet. “And the whiskey.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, feeling a warmth spread through him as he watched her start to relax. “How about we eat in here tonight? I’ve got steaks, sweet potatoes, and creamed southwestern-style corn. We can just sit on the couch, watch something, take it easy. No table, no formality.”

“That sounds perfect,” she said, looking around the room with a small smile, her shoulders finally losing some tension.

“Wait… no Christmas tree?” she teased, glancing back at him with a playful pout.

Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had one, but I forgot to water it, and it pretty much died. Total fire hazard, so I got rid of it.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “What would Arabella say?”

“Oh, she’d fire me on the spot,” he replied with mock horror. “But don’t worry—we’ll go to a Christmas store tomorrow and get a replacement. We’ll decorate it together before my niece disowns me for holiday negligence.”

Her laughter was music to his ears, and he felt the last bit of tension melt away from her body. They ate quickly, the food delicious but secondary to the easy flow of conversation between them. White Christmas played softly in the background, and as Y/N fed him small bites of steak, the air grew charged. Their playful touches lingered, her hand resting on his thigh a little longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against her shoulder as they exchanged knowing glances.

By the time dinner was over, Hoseok felt the pull between them, the simmering desire they both seemed to be tiptoeing around. He’d been trying to take things slow, but it was getting harder to ignore how her body leaned into his, how her eyes traced his mouth like a path she wanted to follow.

“I’m just gonna use the bathroom,” Y/N said, standing up with a soft smile before disappearing down the hall.

Hoseok took the chance to brush his teeth, trying to steady himself, but it all felt oddly… domestic. Sharing a meal, cleaning up, brushing their teeth in the same space like it was the most natural thing in the world. For the first time, it hit him just how right it felt to have her here, in his home. He didn’t know where this was going, but he was sure of one thing: he didn’t want to lose whatever this was.

“Hoseok?” Her voice floated softly down the hall, pulling him from his thoughts. He stepped out of the bathroom to find her standing there, looking at him with a warmth in her eyes that made his chest tighten.

“Sorry, I needed to brush mine too,” he said with a small smile, gesturing behind him toward the bathroom. His heart skipped as she stepped further into his room, her eyes widening as they took in the sight of his massive California king bed.

“That bed is huge!” she exclaimed, her surprise turning into a smile, a playful curiosity dancing in her eyes.

“I’m a big guy. I like lots of room,” he teased, winking in that effortless way that always made her pulse race.

She giggled, but before she could respond, he moved toward her, scooping her up into his arms. She shrieked in laughter, her hands instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling herself close as her body curled against his.

“Hoseok!” she giggled, her laughter filling the room like music. “What are you doing?”

“Testing out how much room we have,” he quipped, grinning as he carried her toward the bed. He carefully set her down on the soft mattress, her head sinking into the pillow as she giggled, squirming under his playful attack. The sheets were crisp and cool beneath her, and she looked up at him with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

“Oh, so this is your big plan? Throw me onto your bed and… what? Have a pillow fight?” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“Not quite,” Hoseok replied, his grin softening as he settled beside her, keeping a little space between them. Propping his head on his arm, he looked at her, his playful expression turning more tender, more serious. “I thought maybe we could just… talk for a bit.”

Her expression shifted, the laughter in her eyes melting into something warmer. “Talk, huh?” she murmured, her voice softening as she turned to face him, the space between them feeling both wide and intimate all at once.

He reached over, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin. “Yeah… I want to get to know you more,” he admitted, his voice low, like he was letting her in on a secret. “Like… what makes you happy. What you dream about. Stuff like that.”

Her heart melted at his words, and she shifted closer, turning onto her side so that they were face to face, sharing the same pillow. Her fingers traced small circles on the sheet between them, her mind racing with thoughts of how rare it was for someone to want to know her in this way.

“Well,” she began, her voice a little shy but honest, “I’m happiest when I’m with the people I care about—my family, my friends. I love little moments, like baking cookies with Tae or playing board games with my students.” She paused, looking into his eyes with a soft smile. “And… I’ve always dreamed of traveling. I want to see places I’ve only read about. Paris, Rome… maybe even Tokyo.”

“Tokyo, huh?” His eyes lit up as he listened, his hand moving to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “I’ve been there a few times for games. You’d love it. The city is electric, so full of life. It’s one of those places where you feel like anything’s possible.”

She smiled at the thought, her heart swelling with how easy it was to imagine herself in a place like that—especially with Hoseok by her side.

“What about you?” she asked, curiosity sparking as she looked at him. “What makes you happy?”

His gaze softened, something tender flashing in his eyes. “Honestly?” he began, his voice quiet. “Moments like this. Where everything feels… simple. No pressure, no expectations. Just… being with someone who gets me.” His thumb brushed along her cheek, and he hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. “And you make me happy. Just being around you.”

Her breath caught, her chest tightening at the way his words wrapped around her, filling the quiet space between them. His hand lingered on her cheek, his touch warm, and she leaned into it, savoring the moment, the connection.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them wrapped up in the quiet intimacy. She could feel her heart pounding, the tension between them building with each passing second.

Then, without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm, pulling him closer until the space between them disappeared. Their bodies pressed together, the warmth of him surrounding her like a soft blanket.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her gaze lingered on his lips, her own just inches from his. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Hoseok’s eyes darkened, his breath escaping in a soft exhale as he leaned in, closing the gap between them. “I’ve been thinking about you, too,” he whispered, his lips hovering just above hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between.

The kiss that followed was slow at first, deliberate. They savored every second, every gentle brush of their lips, as if the world had paused to let them catch their breath. The tenderness lingered—a kiss that drew them deeper, as though nothing else existed beyond that connection. But tenderness has a way of unraveling, and soon desire took over.

Hoseok’s hand slid to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if he could meld them together. Y/N’s hands pressed against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms. It wasn’t just his heart racing—hers was too. Something raw and wild had ignited between them, like an engine roaring to life, and it was growing.

He shifted, flipping them effortlessly until she was straddling him, their bodies pressing together like they had always belonged this way, like there was never supposed to be any space between them. His hands roamed up her back, fingers sliding beneath her shirt, and Y/N arched into his touch, every nerve in her body coming alive.

She hadn’t realized just how much she wanted this—no, needed this. All the tension, the constant teasing, the slow build—it all came rushing to the surface now, and she couldn’t get enough of him. His lips met hers again, but there was nothing soft about it this time. It was desperate, all-consuming. A firestorm. His tongue parted her lips, tasting her, and Y/N matched his intensity, her hands sliding down his chest, feeling every inch of him beneath his shirt.

Hoseok moved again, laying her back against the bed, positioning himself beside her, his arm holding him up as he gazed down at her. Their legs tangled, and she could feel the warmth of him, the electricity that sparked between them. His hand traced a slow line up her arm, and she instinctively moved closer, pressing her face against his chest, feeling the cool fabric of his shirt against her cheek.

Hoseok’s breath was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something intense beneath the surface. He looked down at her, his eyes soft, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

He brought his hand to her cheek, brushing it tenderly before leaning in to kiss her again. But this time, there was no hesitation. His lips claimed hers with a kind of certainty that sent a jolt through her entire being. This was Hoseok—her Hoseok. The realization wrapped around her heart, pulling her in even deeper.

Her fingers clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, the kiss growing more passionate with each passing second. Every time their lips parted, they found each other again, more intense, more insistent. Y/N’s breath quickened, her pulse racing, her entire world narrowing down to the feel of him—his scent, his warmth, the way his hands moved over her, like he was never going to let her go.

This is Hoseok, her mind whispered, Hoseok holding me, kissing me... Heat pooled low in her belly, her body responding with an urgency that took her breath away. She was hot and aching, and all she could think about was how much she wanted him—how much she needed him.

But then, something shifted inside her. She found herself pulling back, her mind slipping out of the moment. Her lips stilled, and she buried her face against his chest, her breath catching as she tried to steady herself. Hoseok didn’t let go. He kept his arms wrapped around her, strong and steady, his chin resting gently on the top of her head. For a while, they just lay there, breathing together as the soft patter of rain against the window filled the quiet room.

Hoseok pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, lingering there for a moment. Y/N tilted her head up, meeting his gaze. His eyes held a question, one he didn’t need to voice. Do you trust me?

“Yes,” she whispered, the word escaping her before she even realized it. She leaned up, kissing him again, slowly at first, before rolling with him until he was fully over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. The kiss deepened, turning passionate, their lips moving together in a heated rhythm that made her breath hitch.

Hoseok’s lips left hers, trailing down her neck, soft at first, then more demanding as he reached the curve of her throat. His mouth opened, teeth grazing her skin before biting down gently, and Y/N gasped, her body arching beneath him. A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine, her eyes fluttering closed, her hands tangling in his hair.

His hands moved with purpose, tracing the curves of her waist, sliding up to cup her breast through her shirt. Y/N’s breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, her body responding to every kiss, every touch. His thumb brushed over her nipple, sending a delicious thrill through her, and she moaned, her fingers clutching at his shoulders.

“Hoseok,” she breathed, her voice thick with longing.

He didn’t stop, his lips moving lower, kissing along her collarbone, down to her stomach as he pushed her shirt up, revealing more of her skin with each kiss. Y/N’s heart pounded, her mind spinning as his touch ignited every inch of her. The air between them buzzed, electric, and all she could think was how much she needed him—how much she wanted him.

And when his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, finding her warm and wet, Y/N’s mind went blank. Her world narrowed down to the sensation, the overwhelming pleasure as his fingers moved over her, teasing, exploring, drawing her higher and higher.

Her breath hitched, her body arching into his touch, her hands fisting the sheets as she lost herself to the storm of desire he’d stirred in her. She couldn’t think—only feel, as Hoseok took her further, his mouth and hands working in perfect sync to unravel her completely.

Hoseok’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his focus entirely on her, on the way she responded to his touch. His mouth found her neck, lips warm and insistent, kissing and nipping in a way that bordered on torturous. Each kiss was like a spark, igniting something deep inside her, making her legs tremble.

She felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling, her breath coming in short gasps. Hoseok’s mouth moved with purpose, and then, with a final flick of his tongue, Y/N’s world shattered. Her body convulsed, pleasure rippling through her in waves, and she cried out, her mind blank, her entire being consumed by the sensation.

“Hoseok!” she screamed, her voice raw, as she came apart beneath him.

The aftershocks left her body trembling, her breath uneven, her heart pounding in her chest. When she finally opened her eyes, Hoseok was still there, his lips leaving gentle kisses as if savoring every last bit of her. She reached down, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

“Hoseok…” she whispered, her voice weak, and he looked up, his eyes meeting hers, dark and filled with something she couldn’t quite name.

He moved up, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss, his hand still on her, his fingers stroking her gently. She sighed into the kiss, her body relaxing beneath him, the warmth of him filling her.

“No rest?” she murmured against his lips, her voice thick with exhaustion and desire.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes softening. “We’re slowing down,” he promised, his voice a husky whisper. There was something in the way he said it—an intimacy, a reassurance—that made her heart swell. It was a promise, but it was also a temptation, one she wasn’t sure she could resist.

She kissed him again, her lips seeking his in a slow, sensual dance. Hoseok’s fingers continued their gentle exploration, his touch grounding her, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile against his mouth. She didn’t know where this was going, what would happen next, but right now—right here in his arms—it felt like everything was exactly as it was meant to be.

Her hands moved down, brushing against the undone buckle of his belt, her fingers slipping inside and finding him hard, throbbing with anticipation. Wrapping her hand around him, she began to stroke, her movements deliberate, matching the slow, sensual rhythm of his fingers as he moved against her. She could feel him growing even harder beneath her touch, the heat between them building with every second.

Hoseok stilled, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. Together, they moved in a slow, building rhythm, heat flooding through her all over again, setting every inch of her on fire.

And then his pace slowed, the movement growing almost imperceptibly gradual. Y/N opened her eyes, questioning, as Hoseok shifted beneath her. His arm slid under her back with a fluid grace, holding her close as he gave one last deliberate thrust. Then, without a word, he carefully rolled them both until she was on top, straddling him, her legs trembling as she adjusted to the new position.

Y/N hovered above him, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as she lay against his chest. She could feel the tip of him brushing against her, an aching reminder of how full he had made her feel just moments before. Lifting her gaze, her eyes met Hoseok's, and for a moment, they were simply lost in each other. There was an unspoken understanding, a silent agreement forged from shared intensity and want.

It felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only this—the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart, the rhythmic pulse of their bodies.

Y/N took a deep breath, pushing herself upright, her hands bracing against his chest. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, achingly slow, until she could feel every inch of him stretching her, filling her completely. A groan escaped her lips, her eyelids fluttering shut as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. She stayed still for a moment, savoring the feeling of him inside her, the way their bodies seemed to mold together perfectly, the way her skin burned from the intimate contact.

Hoseok's hands rested on her hips, his fingers tracing the soft skin there in slow, gentle strokes, guiding without forcing. "Y/N, move with me," he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a quiet kind of intensity.

She nodded, her lips parting as she exhaled shakily. She lifted herself just a little before sliding back down, the friction sending a wave of warmth through her, radiating from where they were joined and traveling through her entire body.

"A little more," Hoseok instructed, his voice a low hum, his hands on her hips gently guiding her. She complied, shifting her position until she felt the angle change, the pressure heightening. "Now tilt forward," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

She did, and when she lifted herself again, the movement sent shockwaves through her, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. She gasped, her thighs shaking as she sank back down, the sensation almost too much to bear.

"Again, Y/N," Hoseok urged, his voice rough with need now, his hands steady on her hips, encouraging but never controlling.

She lifted herself again, her pace picking up, her breath catching in her throat as the friction intensified. Each time she came down onto him, it hit just right, the pressure building inside her like a storm about to break.

"Hoseok," she moaned, her voice raw, her movements becoming more desperate. "I can't—"

"You can," he murmured, his hands tightening just enough to guide her, to keep her steady. "I'm here. You can."

His words were like fuel to the fire burning inside her, and Y/N couldn't stop now. She couldn't hold back, couldn't control the way her body moved, the rhythm growing faster, more frantic. Hoseok's hips met hers with every movement, the sensation driving her closer to the edge.

"Hoseok," she gasped, her voice breaking as the pleasure grew overwhelming. "I don't know—"

"You can," he repeated, his voice filled with heat but also with a steadiness that anchored her. "I'm right here with you. Take me."

And she did. Y/N let herself go, the rhythm spiraling faster, the friction building to an unbearable peak. She focused on the way it felt—the way his body moved beneath hers, filling her again and again, the way their connection sparked like a live wire. Her cries grew louder, mingling with Hoseok's deep, guttural moans, his name falling from her lips like a desperate prayer as she gave herself over completely to the raw, consuming pleasure.

The pressure inside her finally burst, sending her over the edge, her body convulsing with each wave of release. She collapsed onto Hoseok, her face pressing into the crook of his neck, her breath coming in short, broken gasps.

Hoseok held her close, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back, his lips pressing soft kisses to her hair as her body trembled against him. Slowly, gently, he shifted them, rolling onto their sides so she was cradled against him, her legs still tangled with his.

Y/N felt exhaustion wash over her, her eyes heavy, her mind hazy with the aftershocks of what had just happened. She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his, and there was something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat—something tender, something achingly real.

Hoseok leaned down, brushing a kiss against her forehead, his breath warm on her skin as he whispered, "You're beautiful, Y/N."

A soft sigh escaped her lips, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite put into words. And as sleep began to pull her under, the last thing she felt was Hoseok's heartbeat beneath her cheek, steady and comforting, lulling her into the quiet darkness.

Hoseok and Y/N found themselves wandering the brightly lit aisles of a 24-hour Christmas shop at two in the morning, after indulging in a couple more rounds of "naked fun time" and catching a nap. Now, they were doing something a little more wholesome—shopping for a Christmas tree. The soft glow of twinkling lights and the faint hum of Christmas music set the mood, but the intimacy between them lingered, electric and unmistakable.

"What did I tell you about shoving that tongue of yours in my mouth, baby?" Hoseok teased, his hand wrapped warmly around hers as they strolled side by side. His voice was playful, but the undercurrent of attraction that simmered between them hadn’t dissipated from earlier.

Y/N gave him a sidelong glance, feigning innocence as she inspected an eight-foot artificial tree in front of her. It was lush, full, and pre-lit—perfect for his apartment. But the price tag gave her pause. "Hoseok, we’re in public. We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile," she replied, her lips quirking into a smirk. "I’m not going to shove my tongue down your throat, no matter how hot you look right now."

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that made her heart skip a beat. "It’s two in the morning," he countered, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in close enough that his breath tickled her ear. "The only people here are two cashiers who aren’t paying attention, and that guy over there who looks like he’s about to have a mental breakdown over the stocking selection."

Y/N slapped his hand playfully as it ventured toward her butt, but couldn’t help laughing herself. Hoseok always had a way of making everything fun. "Behave," she teased, trying to regain some control. "Let’s just get the tree and grab something to eat. If you’re a good boy," she added, her voice dropping suggestively, "maybe I’ll reward you when we get back to your place. But right now, my kitty is a little sore."

Immediately, the playful grin on Hoseok’s face softened into concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes darting down to her lower half as if he could somehow diagnose her pain through her clothes.

Y/N giggled, touched by his genuine worry. "I’m fine," she assured him, brushing a hand over his chest. "I just need a little break before that big boy of yours comes back to play."

Relief washed over his features, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead, his hand slipping around her waist to pull her closer. "Then let’s get this tree," he said, his voice back to its playful cadence as he grabbed the massive $400 pre-lit tree without hesitation and dropped it into their cart. Y/N’s eyes widened at the ease with which he tossed the tree around like it weighed nothing. She reminded herself that Hoseok’s salary as a professional quarterback meant this was pocket change to him.

They continued through the store, picking out ornaments, stockings, and other holiday decorations to transform Hoseok’s apartment into a Christmas wonderland. As they turned down another aisle, Hoseok spotted a giant blow-up Rudolph tucked away in a corner, probably set aside by another shopper. But Hoseok didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the blow-up with a triumphant grin.

"Think Arabella will like this?" he asked, holding it up for Y/N’s inspection.

"She’s going to love it!" Y/N squealed, doing a little happy dance in the aisle. "It’ll look perfect next to her Santa."

They made their way toward the checkout, their cart brimming with holiday cheer. Just as they approached the register, a young employee walked up to them, his eyes wide with disbelief as he recognized Hoseok.

"Dude, you’re Hoseok Jung," the kid—Fraser—breathed, looking like he was about to faint from excitement.

Hoseok smiled warmly, always gracious with fans. "Hey, Fraser," he greeted. "Can we keep this low-key? My girl and I are just trying to shop without causing a scene."

Fraser nodded eagerly, his awe palpable. "No problem, man. But my dad is a huge fan—he’s never going to believe I met you."

Without missing a beat, Y/N stepped in with a solution. "Why don’t you FaceTime him? Hoseok can say hi. Consider it an early Christmas present."

Fraser’s face lit up, and a moment later, he was dialing his dad on video. Hoseok chatted with the man for a few minutes, making his night, while Y/N watched with a smile, admiring how effortlessly charming he was with everyone. By the time they left the store, Fraser had applied his employee discount, and they left with their cartful of holiday magic.

Back at Hoseok’s sleek, modern apartment, they set up the tree and decorated it with the ornaments they had bought. The space soon took on a warm, festive glow as they adorned every inch with twinkling lights and garland. Y/N was sore, her body reminding her of their earlier escapades, so she popped a couple of Advil and leaned into the cozy domesticity of the moment. They scrambled eggs and made toast in the kitchen afterward, sharing quiet, comfortable laughter while Hoseok, in nothing but sweatpants, danced around the room like a man without a care in the world.

After their impromptu breakfast, they decided to take a long soak in Hoseok’s luxurious jetted tub. The hot water soothed Y/N’s aching muscles, and she leaned back, watching the steam rise as she sipped a glass of wine. Hoseok was beside her, his arm resting casually along the edge of the tub, and they talked quietly, the sound of the water bubbling around them.

"This bathroom is a whole spa," Y/N sighed contentedly. "I could live here."

"Good," Hoseok teased, "because you’re not allowed to leave."

They shared a soft laugh before falling into a companionable silence, the kind that comes when two people are perfectly in sync. Y/N closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the water and the presence of the man beside her. She hadn’t realized how deeply she was falling for him, but it was moments like these—simple, quiet, intimate—that made her heart swell.

Later, feeling completely relaxed and refreshed, Y/N found herself back in Hoseok’s bedroom. She playfully pushed him onto the bed, his towel falling away as she crawled over him. The night had been a blur of laughter, shared glances, and stolen kisses, but now there was a different energy between them—one that simmered with anticipation. She kissed him deeply, her hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath her fingertips.

Hoseok’s hands found their way to her hips, gripping her gently as she straddled him, her body moving in perfect sync with his. They had started the night in celebration, but as their lips met again and again, it became clear that they weren’t quite finished celebrating. Their connection deepened, and before long, Y/N had lost count of the number of times Hoseok had brought her to the brink of ecstasy.

As they lay tangled in the sheets afterward, Y/N rested her head on Hoseok’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this content, this safe, this utterly fulfilled. She glanced up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at her with a smile that was equal parts satisfaction and affection.

"Do you think Arabella will notice if we sleep all day tomorrow?" Y/N whispered with a playful grin.

Hoseok laughed softly, kissing the top of her head. "I think she’ll notice, but maybe I can bribe her with that giant Rudolph."

Y/N giggled, snuggling closer to him. "Best bribe ever."

They drifted off to sleep, the glow of the Christmas tree casting a soft light over the room, the warmth of their shared moments wrapping around them like a blanket.

Christmas morning dawned with a soft blanket of snow covering the streets, casting everything in a serene, white glow. Y/N pulled on her favorite holiday pajamas—flannel with tiny reindeer printed all over them—and headed downstairs to the kitchen where the smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Hoseok was already up, standing by the stove, looking impossibly handsome even in the early morning light. He wore a red sweater with a goofy snowman on it, his hair still a bit tousled from sleep.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he greeted her, his voice warm and affectionate as he turned away from the stove to plant a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Merry Christmas," Y/N murmured, leaning into him for a moment before glancing at the counter, where several plates of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs were laid out. "You made all this?"

"I figured I’d spoil you a little this morning," Hoseok said with a grin, flipping a pancake effortlessly in the air. "But don’t get used to it—this is a special occasion."

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist as he cooked. She loved moments like this, where everything felt simple and perfect. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

After breakfast, they exchanged their first Christmas presents together. Y/N, trying not to look too giddy, handed Hoseok a neatly wrapped box. He eyed it curiously before tearing off the paper to reveal a chunky knit sweater, soft and charcoal gray.

"I noticed you didn’t have any sweaters that weren’t Christmas-themed," Y/N teased, watching his expression as he held the sweater up for inspection. "Figured you needed one for, you know, normal winter days."

Hoseok grinned, running his fingers over the fabric. "I love it," he said, immediately pulling it over his head, the sweater fitting perfectly over his broad shoulders. "How do I look?"

"Ridiculously good, as usual," Y/N said, laughing as he struck a pose, exaggerating his movements like a runway model. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he replied, leaning in to kiss her softly. Then, with a mischievous smile, he handed her a wrapped box of his own. "Your turn."

Y/N unwrapped it carefully, the paper revealing a set of beautifully arranged classroom supplies—new whiteboards, markers, and a sleek, high-quality planner. She looked up at Hoseok, her heart swelling at the thoughtfulness of the gift. "You… you remembered I needed these?"

"Of course I did," Hoseok said, his smile softening. "You mentioned it once, a few weeks ago, about how some of your supplies were old or worn out. I figured your students deserve the best, and so do you."

Y/N felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. It was such a small thing, but the fact that he’d remembered and gone out of his way to get her something so practical, something that would make her job easier, made her feel incredibly loved. "Thank you," she whispered, hugging him tightly. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Hey, I just want to make sure you’re ready to shape young minds," Hoseok teased, but there was a sincerity in his voice that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

By mid-morning, they were bundled up and heading over to Ji-woo’s house for the family Christmas party. Hoseok carried a bag full of presents for his niece and nephew while Y/N held a tray of cookies she’d baked the night before.

Ji-woo’s house was buzzing with life when they arrived. The sound of children laughing, holiday music playing, and the smell of roasting turkey greeted them as soon as they walked through the door. Arabella came running up to Hoseok, her face lighting up when she saw him.

"Uncle Hobi!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his waist. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Arabella," Hoseok said, scooping her up into his arms and spinning her around as she giggled. "I’ve got a surprise for you!"

Arabella’s eyes widened with excitement as Hoseok set her down and pulled out the giant inflatable Rudolph from the bag. Her squeals of delight filled the room as she hugged the blow-up reindeer tightly.

"I knew it! I knew you’d bring Rudolph!" she beamed, her joy infectious.

In the living room, Ji-woo was busy setting up the table, her smile bright and welcoming. "Merry Christmas, you two!" she called out, walking over to hug them both. "You’re just in time. Maxwell’s been asking when Uncle Hobi’s going to get here so he can open his gifts."

"And I brought something extra this year," Y/N said with a grin, handing over the tray of cookies. "Hope the kids like them."

"I’m sure they will," Ji-woo laughed, taking the cookies and placing them on the table beside an array of other desserts.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of laughter, food, and family. Taehyung and Jungkook arrived soon after, arms full of more gifts and treats. Namjoon showed up in his full police uniform, fresh from his morning shift, with his usual calm smile and a bag of baked goods he claimed were homemade (but Y/N knew they were store-bought).

After opening presents, everyone settled around the fireplace, sipping hot chocolate while Maxwell and Arabella played with their new toys. Y/N sat beside Hoseok on the couch, leaning her head on his shoulder, feeling completely content. The warmth of the fire, the sound of everyone laughing and talking, the smell of pine from the Christmas tree—it was everything she could’ve asked for.

Hoseok wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. "This is nice," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N murmured, closing her eyes and letting the moment wash over her.

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the simplicity of the holiday, surrounded by the people they cared about most. And as the snow continued to fall softly outside, Y/N couldn’t help but think that this was exactly what Christmas was supposed to feel like—full of love, laughter, and the quiet moments that made everything else seem perfect.

As the day wound down, and the fire began to flicker low, Hoseok leaned over and kissed Y/N’s temple, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for being here with me."

Y/N smiled, feeling the weight of his words settle in her chest like a warm blanket. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[runninriot]

Dirty Wishes On My Mind

written for @steddiesongfics and @steddiesmuttyseptember

inspired by the song FU In My Head by Cloudy June | SSS prompt: clothes on | rated: E | wc: 4.172 | tags: sexual content, indecent behaviour in public (but they don't get caught), dirty talk, dry humping, coming in pants, confessions, realisations, Eddie has a Crush on Steve, Steve has a Revelation, friends to lovers | complete fic on ao3

    “I’m telling you, Stevie! That guy had no shame whatsoever. Didn’t even hesitate to pull blank in front of me to show off that ridiculous tattoo right above his dick. It was horrendous! I even offered to cover it up for free but he declined, said the ladies dig it.”

Eddie snorts and shakes his head. The things you have to put up with sometimes in his field of work never ceases to amaze him.

   “But hey, can’t say I didn’t like the overall view. A feast for my imagination. I’ll definitely use it the next time I’m ‘feeling lonely’.”

He uses his fingers to sign quotation marks and wiggles his eyebrows, delighted at the blush creeping up Steve’s cheeks when he realises what Eddie means by that.

Steve’s always been a little shy when it comes to talking about these things but they’ve been friends long enough for him to have gotten used to Eddie’s big, unfiltered mouth.

Eddie loves to rile him up, just a little, never so much that it makes him truly uneasy but enough to get a little kick out of it himself.

Steve’s cute when he blushes.

He’s damn fucking pretty, always, is the thing.

So what if Eddie stares a little too obvious? It’s not his fault Steve is so-

Nevermind.

He averts his gaze, takes a sip from his drink to cool off, giving Steve the chance to change the subject to something else.

  "Sometimes I fuck you in my head."

Eddie splutters his mouthful of beer half over himself, half over the table, can't believe he heard Steve right.

No. That must be a mistake because he can't possibly have said that.

Right?

   "I don't know why, it's just- sometimes when I touch myself, I think of you, you know?"

Eddie does, in fact, not know. Because what?

   "Steve, dude, look at me. Did you take something? Without me?"

He must've. There's no way he'd talk that much bullshit if he was sober. They've only been here for ten minutes, fifteen max, both still on their first beer and there is no way in hell Steve is already that drunk.

So this must be something else.

Because it is absolutely impossible that his straight best friend would ever fantasize about anything other than boobies and soft lips and long lashes and, hell, maybe even a tight juicy ass – a woman’s ass – to get him going. Steve Harrington does not think about guys when he touches himself. And most certainly not about Eddie.

He’s messing with him, that must be it. A little revenge for Eddie being insufferable.

   “Hah, yeah you got me there, Harrington. For a second, I really thought you’d lost your mind,” Eddie laughs half-heartedly in a weak attempt to cover up the slight tremble in his voice.

    For a second you got me thinking my pining ass died and went to heaven, is the thought he keeps to himself.

Another second goes by and Eddie is still waiting for Steve to laugh, to maybe swat his arm and tell him ‘Ha! Got’cha! You should see your stupid face.’ but that doesn’t happen. Instead, the air thickens and the tension between them makes Eddie nervous.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Steve opens his mouth.

But somehow, that only makes it worse.

   “Is- is that bad?”

Steve turns away, eyes now locked on his own hand where it’s wrapped tightly around his bottle. Something in his friend’s demeanour shifts; it’s like he’s slowly sinking into himself, like he’s trying to hide.

   “Stevie, hey.” Eddie brings his thumb and finger to Steve’s chin, using gentle force to make him look back up again.

He seems so small all of a sudden, sad somehow, but he huffs out an awkward laugh and rolls his eyes.

   “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I don’t even know why I said that.”

Heat spreads in every part of Eddie’s face, up to his ears and down to his chest and his heart skips a beat because-

Steve didn’t take it back. He didn’t confirm Eddie’s assumption of it being a joke, no. He apologised because he thinks he did something wrong.

   “It’s not bad, Steve. I’m just- a little confused.”

Eddie’s hand moves on its own account, wanders higher up, fingertips lightly dancing across his jaw line and over his cheek until they reach Steve’s hair line just above his ear  where he can’t help but dive deeper into his soft strands.

He doesn’t miss the moment Steve’s eyes flutter shut for a too long second, and how his lips slightly part when he lets out a sigh.

   “Why would you think of me when you’re- I thought you’re-“

    Straight, Eddie struggles to say, fears it would come out wrong, maybe sound like an insult which it is not.

Of course, not. Everyone’s free to love and like whatever and whoever they want. It’s just- it bothers Eddie more than he likes to admit because Steve being straight means that he’ll never have a chance.

That his stupid heart will forever be suffering because his best friend will never be more than that. Not his lover, not his partner, only his friend. And that’s okay, that’s fine, perfect even. It’s more than Eddie could hope for.

But that’s exactly what makes it so hard to wrap his head around Steve’s unexpected confession. That’s why it takes Eddie’s breath away when Steve leans into his touch, pupils blown wide in the cosy light of the bar.

   “I-“ Steve stops himself, digs his teeth into his bottom lip as if to prevent any more words from slipping out.

Eddie feels like he’s in trance, doesn’t even know what he’s doing until it’s too late, until his hand has already wandered back down, thumb touching soft flesh when he pulls it free from Steve’s bite, lingering there, tracing the seam – he can’t stop, can’t not push between parted lips where Steve welcomes him with just a hint of tongue, warm and wet.

And Eddie has to swallow a startled moan.

---

continue reading here

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 06.

ꕥ part 01. | part 02. | part 03. | part 04. | part 05. | part 07. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: mentions of IKEA, awkwardness, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~2.5k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should ꕥ a/n: hi guys! thank you so much for reading my work. i just wanted to apologise for the shorter chapter and that it took longer to update than usual. i was planning to post this originally around valentine's day but university started and things got a tiny bit busy. [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

saturday

Pouring salt and lemon juice on an open wound would’ve felt like a walk in the park compared to asking for any kind of help or favour. You always handled everything independently and on your own way. You were ready to drop everything on the spot and lend a hand to those who asked but always made sure to deal with your problems by yourself. Among other things, this aspect of yours was a mixture of stubbornness and pride.

So, imagine how embarrassed you felt on that sunny Saturday morning, with your phone pressed to your ears as you anxiously waited for your call to be answered. It’s so dumb, they just got back from the case yesterday. I should hang…

“Hey pretty girl, what’s up?” Derek’s usual playful tone cut through your thoughts, stopping you from pressing the little red icon. You were relieved that you weren’t the one to wake him or at least judging by the lack of raspiness in his tone, he was already up.

“Are you perhaps… free today?” you asked as you quickly paced back and forth in your unusually empty bedroom. One of your cats, who was still very much a kitten, energetically chased after your feet, causing you to come across even less collected, since you had to look out for the little furball too if you didn’t want to accidentally step on him.

“For a woman like you, I’m always free.” Hummed the man at the other end of the line, immediately easing your nerves a bit. You rolled your eyes and let a playful smile spread across your face, which was wiped off just as quickly.

“Ah, for fuck’s sake Nick...!” before you could’ve said anything else, like probably an explanation for why you were calling your colleague, a low scream escaped your lips. “Sorry, my cat is just devil’s incarnate, and he decided it’d be fun to claw his way up on my bare legs.”

“For a moment I got scared that it wasn’t really me you were looking for.”

“Impossible, you know you’re always on my mind, handsome.”

You learned quite early on that Derek’s flirty demeanour was part of his personality and it was never serious when it came to the team. Even in amongst you, he knew that not everyone was open to suggestive comments or playful dirty talk. He made sure to never make anyone feel uncomfortable. Luckily, you were completely okay with this and even became a ‘partner in crime’.

“Okay, out with it. Why did you call?”

“Ah, I need a favour. I know you guys just came home yesterday and it’s totally okay if you say no…”

“Babygirl, I don’t even know what to say no to.”

“Yeah right, sorry. I need to buy a new bed because my last one was older than me and a few weeks ago it decided to end its life, which I can understand. So, I’ve been sleeping on the sofa. I mean, I wouldn’t exactly call it sleeping. And I know that I am even funnier when I’m sleep deprived but now that I’ll soon be back in action, it’d be nice to be well rested, you know. And yes, I could just walk into an IKEA, choose a bed and ask for a delivery, but…” You were definitely rambling and overexplaining yourself, as you did whenever you got flustered or felt awkward. Just like when you gave Reid a gift, you still haven’t recovered from that. The others quickly got used to this, given that they already had a yapper in their company. However, it didn’t mean you weren’t self-conscious if you noticed what you were doing.

“Let me stop you right there. You need help with taking home and putting together a bed, right?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be there in an hour, but I’m bringing help. These muscles can do a hella lot of things but getting a whole bed to the 7th floor is different.”

“Of course. Thank you, Derek.”

After the call ended, you stood in one place in the middle of your room, trying to calm yourself down, contemplating your life. Asking for a favour shouldn’t make you feel like you’re being hunted for sport. But it did, especially since it included one of your co-workers.

Originally, you planned on getting this done with your brothers, but both were out of the country for two more weeks. You’ve read so many past case files where it later turned out that the UnSubs were previously in one of the BAU member’s homes as maintenance workers or something similar that it made you a tiny bit paranoid. This is one of the reasons why you preferred to fix everything you could by yourself. It was to avoid letting unknown people into your flat. You weren’t that worried about Morgan’s unfamiliar friend though, given that you completely trusted the profiler.

Well, colour you surprised when an hour later as you hopped into the backseat of the black Range Rover Autobiography, you were met with passenger princess Spencer Reid.

“Oh… Hi.” your voice got awkwardly high-pitched. You avoided looking at him both directly and through the rear-view mirror. You weren’t quite prepared for this scenario. It was bad enough that the anxiety caused by being afraid of becoming a nuisance for Derek filled your entire body, now Dr Asshole was there too. And you appreciated the help, you really did. But now this also meant that the man with whom you had an indefinable relationship will enter your home. The home, which was so obviously, undeniably you. It was almost like a piece of your bare soul on display both in a good and bad way.

“Hi.”

“So, IKEA?” clarified Derek before things could’ve gotten even more uncomfortable.

“Yes. I already chose which one I’d like so I won’t be taking up much of your time, promise,” you said and as proof, you held up your phone, with the website open and the specific furniture on the screen.

“Oh, Tonstad was mentioned in a travel brochure I’ve read a few years ago when I was looking for places to visit.” After Spencer took a glance at your phone, his eyes almost literally lit up. He enthusiastically explained what the name of the chosen bedframe and mattress meant. His hands were just as expressive as his mouth. It was sweet, how he probably wasn’t aware the constant movement of his fingers. “It’s a little Norwegian village and was the administrative centre of the old municipality of Tonstad from 1905 until its dissolution in 1960. In 1960, it became the part of Sirdal, and it continued to be the administrative centre there.”

Weirdly, his slightly rambling, lengthy explanation somewhat put you at ease. It was one of those rare moments when his facts weren’t undermining your professional ideas and theories. These facts were simply just facts, it was interesting listening to them, and he was able to keep your attention so much so, that you didn’t even notice how curiously you stared at him.

However, he did. Since you had no reason to use contact lenses on an early Saturday when you weren’t working, those damned glasses were on you again. The sight basically magnetized his gaze to your face through the rear-view mirror, automatically triggering the memory of his weird dream about you from a few weeks before.

For a quick, passing moment he became annoyed. The genius didn’t quite understand why a simple object, invented around the 13th century—with its precursors dated back to the Eastern Han Dynasty in China—had such an effect on him. Spectacles have been around for a few hundred years now, it was quite literally a basic, everyday necessity for almost half the population. At times even he himself had to wear it. So then, why in the hells did you have this weird, unexplainable effect on him? It wasn’t fair, how you were able to cause a ruckus in his extraordinary brain without even trying.

Much to his dismay, he was very well aware how you looked at him from behind. The way the Sun shined on your irises captivated him. All your attention was his. And he had to come to the unfortunate conclusion that he very much liked this.

“Is it okay if I let out my cats now?” you asked the men in your bedroom that got cluttered and chaotic rather quickly. They were in the midst of putting your bed together, however, it didn’t go as smoothly as they planned. Derek wanted to use a simple thing, called common sense, and build the bedframe how it seemed right while Reid insisted on strictly following the manual which he already read and memorised word for word. On top of that, they didn’t let you help them, not even a tiny bit. The one thing that both agreed on was that you’re not going to do anything physically exhausting while you still have a healing wound on your side.

“You have cats?” asked the doctor and he even turned his precious attention from the wooden parts to you.

“No Reid, I just prefer to eat and drink from a bowl on the ground.” the sarcastic reaction came out before you could even register it and, in a way, you almost immediately felt guilty about it. He was there to help you. There was no need for hostility. But you were very much on edge, more than usually, since this was the first time they were in your home. You were aware of the fact that just by looking at the environment you created as a home, he was able to profile the shit out of you, and you didn’t like this at all.

You had various kinds of potted plants everywhere—all safe for your pets—, even on top of stacked books that were scattered around the living room. Your dish rack was filled with colourful mugs, plates and bowls, most of them had different patterns and shapes. You bought the majority of those from artisans who set up stands at different fairs. All of them were unique but the colour scheme matched nicely, making your kitchenware organised and fun at the same time. Some were made to look like a blooming flower, some had animal or geek features on them. Penelope was over the moon when she first saw it, so much so that it wouldn’t have surprised you if she sneaked a few out of your place at the end of the occasional get-togethers.

The bookshelf at the wall between your kitchen and living room immediately caught Reid’s attention, but assembling your furniture was the main priority, so he forced himself not to pay much attention to it. Secretly though, he hoped he could take a closer look at what you read and by what system you organised your books, just so he could possibly get to know you more without having to engage in your usual bickering.

Before the doctor could’ve answered your last sentence, you took a swift turn and left your bedroom. A few minutes later the sound of long, drawn-out meows filled the small flat.

“Yeaaah, I know, I know. I’m sorry.” you answered to your pets in a high-pitched tone. The first one to run out of the bathroom was an adult, slightly chubby black cat with deep, amber eyes. You found her and her brother—the sweetest little calico, who was still chilling in the cold sink, even though you opened the door for him to leave—on a hot summer’s night, during a storm that was one of the worsts you’ve ever seen or experienced a little more than two years ago. The kitten named Nick, is an entirely different story. You found him in a dumpster, near your apartment, squaring it up with a raccoon. He hasn’t calmed down ever since. “But I locked you up for your own sakes. And it was only for half an hour.” To this, another long meow was your answer, to which you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They were dramatic, for sure.

“Should I consider my win on the last case as a result of you, not having a bed?” Reid’s voice almost made you jump; it was so sudden. He was leaning to the doorframe, curious eyes diligently taking in every single tiny detail of you and your surroundings. You were in the process of taking the sweetest little prince out of the sink. The long-haired calico was rather scaredy and hated unfamiliar people but was a total lovebug for those whom he knew. Unfortunately, the tall profiler wasn’t amongst these persons, so the cat’s instincts took over and, in a blink, he clawed his way out of your warm embrace to hide behind the washing machine.

“Shit! Daisy…” you yelped as you became more and more aware of the tingling, hot pain that spread across your upper and lower arms.

“Ah, I… Khm. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I knew he is afraid of strangers, I should’ve left him alone, but I felt guilty about locking them up for the time you got the bed to my room.” you explained the situation while you started to clean the shallow injuries with some warm water. There were only a few scratches, luckily, but they burned like hell. “The other two will be okay, though. Jordan usually sits on top of the cat tree and judges everyone while Nick brings doom and destruction to all things in existence.”

It didn’t require much brain power to put two and two together, Spencer almost immediately recognised the connection between the names of your cats, however, he didn’t mention a thing. He wasn’t sure how you’d react, and he didn’t want to start a fight. Up until now you’ve only met each other outside of work when the team went out for drinks and even then, you tended to avoid interacting with him. So, instead he silently reached for the soft, salmon-coloured towel and handed it to you, his watchful gaze never leaving your figure.

thank you again for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! i hope it isn't a problem that this fic is getting longer, i'm just taking slow burn seriously (only thing i can do lmao) taglist: @halfbloodwriter @starrystormwritings @kspencer34 @maisyyyyyy @theseerbetweenus @throwaway-things divider from @cafekitsune gif from @reidgif

[flusteredmoonn]

last christmas; remus lupin

summary: "i wrapped it up, with a note saying 'i love you' i meant it," in which after years and years of friendship, he's nervous to confess his feelings.

tags: (SFW), angst, attempted angst to fluff, implied pre-existed relationship, she/her pronouns, fem!reader, third person y/n

words: 850+

the holiday collection. request.

snow surrounded the potter's estate, the jukebox charmed to hum merry melodies as christmas decor was wrapped throughout the entire house. james had invited his friends around to his parent's house for christmas, a tradition started in the early years of their time at hogwarts, and had continued through to their adulthood. it was something that in spite of whatever loomed on the other side of the door had kept the group together.

sirius and james had been running around the house, boxes of decorations in hand as they put hung ornaments throughout the house. the sweet smell of eggnog and gingerbread lingered between the rooms as james' parents had busied themselves with cooking festive treats in the kitchen whilst remus and y/n decorated the main tree in the living room.

boxes were strewn around the room, various red, green, and gold spilling from them. she danced and swayed to the beat of the music, hanging ornaments methodically throughout the faux pine needles. digging through a box in the corner, remus glanced up for a moment, watching the way y/n found joy in the tradition, eager to make the potter estate feel cosy at christmas. a small smile had found it's way onto his face, the same way it had in first year when she made sure that she was included in the maraudic group's antics. she glanced over at him as if to show pride in her progress with the tree, reciprocating the smile already on his face.

"have you seen the garland with the little holly's on it?" he suddenly asked her, standing up fully.

"uh.." she hummed in thought, "have you tried to box over there?" she said after a while, pointing to a box closer to the fireplace. she herself moved over to it, crouching to sift through the contents of it. remus shook his head, before moving to a different box to look for the remaining garland for the entryway.

"aha" the girl exclaimed joyously after a while, excitedly pulling the holly garland out of the box she had been searching and showing it to remus. she walked over to him, handing it to the boy with a small "there you go"

"why thank you" he mused, moving away to string it up and complete the display as y/n put the star at very top of the tree. just as she did so, james and sirius had made their way down the stairs, laughing amongst them and carrying empty boxes as a receipt of their work.

as the night went on, euphemia and fleamont had finished their preparations for christmas day. the fire crackled as it was stoked, the potter's and their guests having fun into the night, perked up on the anticipation of the day to follow. eventually, the owls began to coo and the trees began to rustle, signalling that it was time for everyone to take themselves upstairs to get ready and into bed.

the six of them climbed the stairs, and manoeuvred through the corridor before forking off into different corridors or rooms until it was just remus and y/n left. a blanket of silence was wrapped around them as the moved through the house, until remus' door was in sight. he paused in front of it, hand hovering over the brass handle as he fought an internal battle. however, he soon moved rather quickly, muttering a quick 'wait here' before disappearing behind the door he had just been hesitating in front of.

after a beat, he reappeared from the void of darkness in his room, a colourfully wrapped box in his hand. "here you go," he rushed, holding the box out to y/n, "merry christmas," he smiled at her.

"oh, remus," she said quietly, "thank you," she moved to detach the card on top of the box, only to frantically told to open it once she gets to her room. with a nod and an awkward farewell, she turned on her heel and walked the rest of the way down the corridor to her bedroom.

pushing the door softly shut behind her, she leant against it, fingers making delicate work of opening the box. she revealed a necklace, with a singular pendant of a wolf on it. smiling, she clasped it on herself, bringing her hand to it as she read the card that had been attached. a smile was etched on her face as she realised he had written her a letter, in his signature scrawny writing, as he detailed the depth of his feelings for her.

determination in her step, she marched back down the corridor, softly knocking on remus' door. it swung open in front of her, and she wasted no time wrapping her arms around his shoulders. confused, yet relieved, he wrapped his arms around her waist, sighing in relief as the charmed jukebox hummed faintly in the background, the clock ticking over to midnight.

[dianneking]

The Bet - Brienne/Reader bookshop AU

Hi dears, in case you wanted some trashy, slightly angsty romance bookshop AU starring none other than the majestic Brienne of Tarth as well as yourself...well, look no further cause you're in the right place! It is with great pleasure that I present you

The Bet

Tags: Alternate Universe - Bookshop, Out of character, Angst with a happy ending, POV second person, Idiots in love, Mutual Pining, Misunderstanding, Panic Attacks, Hints of past violence, Swearing. Word count: 5423.

AO3 link in the title above.

"Hello?" 

You did a double take when you lifted your eyes from the monitor. You didn't mean to, but the woman in front of you was not the kind of person that usually found her way to your tiny bookshop. 

She was...well, she was imposing , to begin with: taller than you'd ever seen a woman be, with broad shoulders that the t-shirt she was wearing did nothing to hide...and she looked clearly out of her environment among the shelves, standing with her back ramrod straight and her hands clasped in front of her, shifting from foot to foot, a frown taking over her face the more and more you looked at her without saying anything. As if she was waiting for your reply...

Oh!

Right.

"Oh uhm sorry, yes? Uh hi, welcome! What brings you to our bookshop today?" You cringed at your own awkwardness, but her expression didn't change too much from her frown.

"I lost a bet."

"A...bet?" Well this was unexpected. Surely your little shop was not so scary that getting into it was a dare? And this woman in front of you looked as if she'd be afraid of very little. She looked more disgruntled than scared anyways, light eyebrows corrugating over those piercing, beautiful blue eyes, lips pressing together as her nostrils flared out. She looked like the type of woman who spends more time in a gym than in a bookshop but apart from that, you had no idea what kind of bet would bring her here. Not that you were complaining. 

"Yes. I lost a bet and now I have to buy a book here. Surely you can provide me with one." She enunciated, as if she was talking to the dumbest person alive. You didn't care. Her accent was melting your insides into a pile of goo. 

I'd like to provide you with my number , your mind dreamily suggested as a reply, but you squashed it ruthlessly down. Not every woman with muscles is interested in other women, you reminded yourself. And even if she were, it didn't follow that she would be interested in you , anyway - the woman was the definition of Out Of Your League, with her short blonde hair, her chiseled jaw, her strong arms crossed on her chest…and you had lost your train of thought once again. 

"Hmmmm yes sure. Uhm not a fan of reading?" She bristled as if you had insulted her.

"Of course I read .” She scoffed “I make time to read daily. I simply don't waste my time with all of this..." she gestured around her, vaguely including the manga section and the horror shelves in her speech "...this fiction ." She spat the word as if it had offended her by its own existence.

Right.

If you had to be completely honest, if it had been anyone else insulting your beloved books, you'd have been all up in their faces. These weren't just books, they were your babies, your companions during the long days at work and your even longer sleepless nights, they were your best friends in a way no human ever could aspire to be. From the moment you had understood that in those pages lied countless stories, adventures you could partake in, emotions you had never felt, you were in love with reading already.

That's why you were working here, day after day, smiling up at the shelves filled to the brim, cursing the paperwork and cleaning and everything that kept you away from cracking open the newest release and losing yourself in its pages.

You loved your job because you loved books.

So anyone insulting your papery companions would be treated to your Cold Stare™ and Dismissive Attitude™.

And yet...you guessed this woman was clearly misguided in her dismissing all fiction with such a sneer. The fact that her sneer was so damn attractive didn't absolutely play any role in your sudden conciliatory attitude. Absolutely not. Nuh-huh. Not at all.

"Hello? Are you still there?" 

Well, fuck. Daydreaming of a client when they are in front of you. Great way to appear professional, and to make a good first impression on a gorgeous first-time client.

"Huh. Yeah, uhm sorry, I was thinking of possible recommendations that would suit your needs. What are your general interests?" You tried to patch things up only to be once again met with her frown.

"That is a useless endeavor. I will not enjoy wasting my time reading it anyways. Just give me one." 

"But you will read it?" 

"Of course! I did give my word."

Her word . Who said that nowadays? Giving your word? That was the stuff of old, of knights, of epic tales of heroism, of... fiction .

Oh.

You might have the right book for this hard, formal, stunning woman.

You stood up, surprising her with your sudden movement, but you didn't notice the way her eyebrows shot up, nor the way her eyes followed you as you made your way to the book, rising to your tiptoes to reach it.

You presented it to her like a hunter presents their caught prey.

"This." 

She gingerly caught it between her fingers, as if it could bite her, or worse, contaminate her with the debauchery of reading for pleasure.

"This?" 

"You'll like it." 

"Haven't you listened? I said I don't like fiction."

"I heard you. You didn't say you don't like it. You said you don't read it." You didn't even know where the confidence came from, but you were sure. This was the right book for her.

She seemed to be surprised by it. Surprised enough to give up her fight with a huff. 

"I guess I might as well get this since you're so sure about it." 

She started skimming the first pages as you rang it up for her, and you could see her frown slightly easing up.

You hid your smile, feeling it pulling at the corners of your mind as she absent-mindedly handed you her card, paid and wandered out the shop, her nose still in the book.

____

"So about that little bet we had, did you get the book?" 

Brienne didn't like admitting she was wrong. She sure as shit wouldn't admit that to Jaime of all people. She wouldn't hear the end of it.

But no matter all of her misgivings, she was enjoying that book. The plot had captivated her against her will, and more than one time she had found herself up until the early morning hours glued to the pages, lost in the description of adventures that had never happened if not in the fantasy of the author.

Such a far cry from her usual dry, factual fare of nonfiction books. Boring , some would call them, practical , she’d counter. You see, Brienne was a practical woman and she happened to like that about herself. And if people found her boring, it was their fault, not her own.

"Yes, I did get that" she replied in a bored tone, hiding her excitement below her well-polished mask.

She thought of the excitement on your face as you got the idea of suggesting this book to her. Of how smug you had looked when handing her the volume.

So sure she'd like it. And the most shocking aspect of it all was the fact that she did. 

And maybe, maybe in the privacy of her own mind she could admit to herself that she also thought of the way your shirt had risen as you reached for the book, exposing a sliver of your midriff as it did so. And the way your eyes had sparkled when you had handed her the novel, challenge and amusement and confidence mixing in your gaze. 

She had liked that too, just like the book, and just like the book she had liked it almost against her better judgment.

________

"How did you do it?"

Your heart skipped a beat as she charged into the shop, the bell ringing behind her long after she had entered, a thunderous frown on her face, the copy of the book she had purchased from you tightly held in her slender yet strong fingers.

She had gorgeous hands too…some people were just blessed with beauty, you thought. And you were blessed with being able to see and talk to such beauty.

The smile that climbed to your face was not your usual customer service one, but a warmer one, a special one just for her.

"So, did you like it?" 

She looked taken aback at your warmth, and you could see the faint beginning of a blush on her cheeks.

"I did, if you must know it!" She looked offended at the very thought. It was adorable.

"Oh I am so glad to hear that! The author is an emerging one, only has another one published, if you liked their style you might enjoy this too!"

"What for?"

"Why, as your next fiction book, of course. Isn't that why you came back?"

"I…maybe."

This time your smile got a definite hint of smugness in it.

"Are you going to fight me over this one too? Should I dare you to read this as well?"

"Listen here, don't get cocky. You just got lucky there. It won't happen again."

It did.

As a matter of fact it kept happening, and you fell into a sort of beautiful bookish routine. Depending on how long the book was and how busy she was, your favorite client would grace your shop with her presence once every couple of weeks or more, always putting up an offended front at having liked the fiction book you had suggested and yet always asking for another one.

Slowly but steadily she would start opening up about what she liked in them, allowing you to start collecting tidbits of information about her as well - she loved historical fiction, and fantasy too. She wasn't so keen on sci-fi and urban fantasy unless the plot was somehow worth it. She loved strong female main characters and complex character arcs. 

During the day she was kept busy from her work (law enforcement, she told you on one occasion, and didn’t go in more detail, you wondered if she was just a regular cop or maybe something cooler), but she found time to read in the evenings ("Mornings are absolutely for working out, no way I am skipping that for a book. Even if it is a good one.” she had stated, as if it was the law, and you had nodded dumbly, once again mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze, even if you woke up with a book and read it during breakfast and on the commute to the shop and couldn’t think of a better way to start the day). 

_______

“And I loved the world building in this one, the interaction between the characters, and I can't wait to read the second part and understand where these mechanical enemies are originating from!” 

You looked up at her as she agitatedly waved her copy of Clockwork Boys in the air, trying to express how much she had enjoyed it. You found it hard to believe how different she was from the hard, reluctant person that had first set foot in your shop. Mesmerizing. Just as she was. 

Suddenly you felt brave, braver than you'd ever thought you could be.

“In two weeks the author is going to be at our local book fair, if you'd like…maybe we could…go together?” you stumbled on your words a little and you could feel your cheeks getting hotter but that didn't change the fact that you had managed to ask your crush out!! 

And she didn't say no! She looked a bit stunned for a second but then she ran her free hand through her hair (oh it looked so soft and silky, you wanted to bury your hands in it too).

“Sure! Is it going to be Tuesday in two weeks, right?”

“Y-yeah.” Had she just…?

“Cool, I have the day off anyways, so it works like a charm.” She… She…

While your brain was still reeling, unable to process the fact that she had said yes , she grabbed the stack of post-its and pen and started jotting down something.

You blinked at her, unsure of what to make of the string of numbers you were seeing until she straightened up and handed you the sticky note with a…was it a shy smile pulling her lips up? Her eyes had never looked so big before, of that you were sure.

You looked at the sticky note. It was a pink one, and you had to resist the childish urge to draw hearts all around the numbers. You just were so happy! You thought as you went to save it into your phone, only belatedly noticing a glaring tactical error on your side. 

You still didn't know her name!

You felt like hitting your forehead on the desk. How was this even a thing? Who doesn't know their crush’s name? You, that's who. Too busy ogling her and inviting her to book fairs to remember to ask her her frickin name! 

Hehe. But you did ask her out and she did say yes. That had to count for something, right?

You looked down at your phone and then typed up “ My Knight 🩷 ” in the name field, struggling to contain the giggle that threatened to escape your lips. In another world she would have totally been a proud knight, protecting the defenseless and fighting for justice, you were sure of it. And she would have looked gorgeous in armor. 

Tomorrow, you told yourself. You'd text her to work things out tomorrow. Surely you could resist that long. The fair was ages away anyway. You could resist a handful of hours to avoid seeming desperate, surely you could.

You texted her that same night, of course. 

But she did reply almost instantly, and you managed to start a conversation beyond the bare minimum details of your…was it a date? It had to be a date, right?

She told you about her dinner, and how she had already started on the sequel of the book she had just finished. You could almost feel her excitement through the message.

You fell asleep with your phone beside you on the pillow, dreaming of soft blonde hair and armor  and book fair dates. 

____________

"Are you the one who's been selling Brienne fiction?" 

You were pretty sure you had never seen the man who had just entered your shop as if he owned it. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"You know, Brienne? Tall, blonde? Hates all fiction books except the ones you've been selling her?" 

So that was your knight's name! And what a roundabout way to learn it! Just like in the best novels, it seemed that you had been spared the humiliation of asking her for her name after you’d known each other for months. 

Brienne.

You liked the way it sounded. 

Brienne.

It sounded like the name of a warrior, a strong, hard-headed and hard-working woman who'd stop at nothing to achieve her dreams. A knight. 

“I am Jaime by the way, nice to meet you. So are you the one?" He offered you his hand, you took it mechanically, trying to answer his question without giving too much away. Your knight’s reading habits were none of this dude’s business,that’s for sure.

"I don't know if I am the only one. Maybe she just doesn't tell you about all the fiction she enjoys."

"Nice try to defend her honor. I see why she likes you."

She liked you?

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and it took all of your self-control to avoid bursting into a happy dance.

She liked you!! Shelikedyoushelikedyou.

She liked you. 

She liked you.

She liked you !

The man in front of you kept talking, oblivious to the cheering going on within your brain.

"Listen, I know Brienne, okay? She's a lovely girl but I had to bet with her to make her unwind enough to consider reading something for pleasure."

“Well she probably didn't find the right book until now.”

“Or the right book dealer… so are you hers or not?” 

"Maybe I am…But why do you want to know that?"

“Well if you were , I'd owe you a huge thanks and possibly a round of drinks, cause she's been in a downright good mood for the past months, and especially in the past week or so. As her partner, I spend most of the day with her, and believe me, I am beyond grateful for the change.”

Oh.

Her…

Oh.

Of course.

Of course she had a boyfriend. No, a partner. That's even more committed, right?You had been so stupid. Stupid and stupidly hopeful. So hopeful and you'd once again mistaken friendship for something else, just like you did so many times in the past. 

You tried to swallow around that piece of news, you kept on a brave face while he still waffled about something or something else, but you had no idea what he was talking about.Nor did you care, all the joy that had taken over you had just as quickly dissolved, leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You didn't remember him leaving, but you knew that you were quick to lock the door after him and close up shop.Only then, surrounded by your beloved books, you allowed yourself to break down and cry all of your tears.

____________

You didn't cancel on Brienne, even if a part of you wanted to do nothing but stay home and mope. Yet you were sure you'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't go. 

And she had looked so happy when you had invited her. She probably didn't have a lot of female friends, you thought. When she talked of her hobbies, it had always been things that she did on her own. Working out, reading, jogging. 

She was probably glad to have some company. Someone to talk to that she vibed with. That was that. It had always been that, and you reading more into it didn't change the harsh truth.

Your heart was beating faster when you pulled up to the parking lot of the venue, but it was more due to trepidation than happiness. You had been preparing yourself mentally for a bookish date with your crush, not for…an outing with a friend. You weren't sure how to behave now, your mind too busy going through every single interaction the two of you had had, dissecting each word, each smile, each playful joke at each other's expense. When did you start thinking you could have a chance? At what point had your hopes become delusions?

Your phone started buzzing as you got out of the car. “My Knight 🩷” appeared on the screen, and you had to swallow against a hard knot. 

You know you should have changed the name. You knew her name now, and she most definitely wasn't your knight. And yet…you still hadn't.

With a sigh, you picked up, trying to be optimistic despite the dread pooling in your stomach. You could do this. Friends. You could hang out with your friend that just happened to be the hottest woman you'd ever seen. It was going to be okay. 

_____

It was not okay. 

It was anything but okay. 

Who thought that Brienne was going to be the kind of straight girl that gets all touchy-feely with her female friends? She had hugged you when you two met up and you thought you would die on the spot, surrounded by her arms and her perfume and the happiness of her voice.

And then as you walked through the venue, weaving through the stands, checking out books (you couldn't remember a single one you'd seen, preoccupied as you were with your companion) her hand kept finding excuses to touch you, once on the shoulder to get your attention, once wrapping around your elbow to direct you to a certain stand, once simply splayed on your back as you discussed cover designs.

It was torture. Every time her warm hands touched you, your heart would start racing, still stubborn in its hopefulness. But then you’d remember that it was all in your head and your heart would painfully constrict because oh it would have been so nice if it had just been true.

By the time you sat down in the auditorium where the author panel was about to start, you were a jittering mess. 

You kept replaying each interaction you had with Brienne, trying to rationally explain to your heart why, even if it might seem like she was coming onto you, she had a boyfriend and therefore it had to be her way of being friendly. 

Yes, even when she placed her hand squarely on your knee as the authors started their introductions.

To be honest you weren't sure what had been said at the panel. You mechanically laughed when you felt others do the same, and studied Brienne’s profile out of the corner of your eye. She had a soft smile on her face. As if she was enjoying herself. As if there was nothing wrong with the way her hand was resting on your leg, absentmindedly stroking lazy patterns with her thumb. Driving you mad. 

You were so engrossed in your thoughts and in her touch that you hadn't even noticed that the panel had ended, and most of the spectators had filed away, leaving the two of you alone in the auditorium.

You did notice Brienne shifting in her seat to turn towards you. Mainly because that caused her hand to climb slightly up your leg, putting it decidedly in the thigh area. Clearly an oversight on her part, but you could feel your breathing getting slightly quicker, and looking up to see her stunning eyes trained on you with laser-sharp focus didn't help you with that.

How unfair.

How terribly unfair for her to be so close, and yet unreachable.

How crushing that her hand, searing hot on your thigh, was not a promise of something more.

How sad that you'd never get to kiss those lips even if they were getting closer as Brienne leaned towards you…you could see her blonde lashes fluttering slightly, the small scar on her upper lip, her breath light on your face…

Suddenly she was too close.

Your heart jumped in your throat, and it felt like it had cut off all of your air supply. 

There was a ringing in your ears, and your skin was crawling hot and cold at the same time. 

You could see the little scar on her lip almost flickering, as your vision swam with black, and you knew without any doubt that you had to 

GET OUT OF HERE!! 

______

"So this is where you've been hiding." Brienne's voice was not warm anymore. You guiltily looked up at her from your spot on the bench. She wasn't smiling at you anymore and you wanted to hit yourself for that. It wasn't her fault that you had misunderstood all of her cues and kept seeing what your wishful thinking desired, and yet she had been the one to go through the pains of searching for you while you hid away to work your way down your panic attack.

She sat down beside you, a heavy sigh on her lips.

"I need to ask you something."

Oh. There it comes, you thought. The direct questioning that preceded the gentle let down. The 'I'm flattered but I don't feel the same' speech. As if you had never heard it before. Your heart remembered the pain as if it had been yesterday, and valiantly tried to brace itself for the inevitable rejection.

"Why?"

Huh? That…that was not what you expected her to start with, but she kept talking, and you had no choice but listen. "Why ask me out if you're so clearly uncomfortable with me? Is this some sick joke? It wasn't enough to prove me wrong over and over again? You wanted to humiliate me, too?" 

You could only stare open-mouthed at Brienne as she rained down harsh words on you, anger and pain mixing on her face. She was so beautiful. Even when angry. She looked like a vengeful angel, the righteous hand of God, coming to punish you for daring to hope too much .

"I-I'm sorry." You tried to explain yourself, but she didn't let you, her voice hard and cutting and relentless.

" You are sorry ? Is that all you can say? That's not enough for me. Especially when it's clearly bullshit. Do you think that's the first time people make fun of me? That someone thinks that going out with Brienne The Beauty is the funniest prank on Earth? Did you do it for a laugh, hm? Didn't expect me to say yes when you asked?" 

"No, actually I did not."

"You! The fucking nerv-"

"I didn't dare to hope you'd say yes because you're out of my league!" 

A stunned silence met your words. You didn't know where the strength to interrupt her came from but you had to. You couldn't let her go on thinking you had asked her out to make fun of her or something. And once you started talking, you couldn't help yourself. The truth had to come out, so you pushed on: "Which clearly you are. But you said yes and I…Brienne, I am so sorry. I tend to live in my head and you were so nice to me and I thought…but clearly I shouldn't have. Thank goodness Jaime told me before I made a fool of myself. Which apparently I still did. Fuck. I am sorry for that, I promise you I am enjoying myself today and I am sorry I am awkward and I understand if you don't want to see me anymore after this." 

"Jaime? What does he have to do with all of this? Did…did he set you up to do this?" You could hear the betrayal seeping in her voice and you couldn't bear it. If you couldn't have her, at least you could do your best not to have her break up with her boyfriend over a huge mess of a misunderstanding that you did all by yourself. By thinking you had a chance with this goddess.

Better if she hated you instead. Which she would do anyways. If she didn't already.

"No. Nono he's been nothing but friendly. He just dropped by the shop because he was curious about the books you've been reading." 

"Then why did you bring him up?"

"I didn't know, okay? When I asked you to come here, I didn't know."

"What didn't you know?" Oh she wasn't making it easy on you, was she? 

"I thought…I thought you might be interested in me - which I now realize is ridiculous. That's why I asked you out. I asked you and you said yes and you gave me your number and I thought it meant…I swear I didn't know! But then he told me and now I can't help but be awkward because I had thought this was a date and now it's not and I didn't want to ruin it for you which I guess I did anyways. I swear I didn't know when I asked you."

" Know what ? What did Jaime tell you?"

"That he's your…That you're his…That you two are together. Which makes sense, because you are so well assorted and you look perfect for each other and I am sure he can make you happy in ways that–" 

"WHAT?" The roar that came out of Brienne's mouth was almost feral.

"What 'what'?" You babbled back. You looked worriedly at her shaking hands. You knew she was going to be angry at you once she found out about your silly crush. But you still hoped she wouldn't hit you or something. She didn't seem like she'd be the type to take out her anger on you but…but those hands looked like weapons, clenched as they were into tight fists. 

"WHAT DID HE TELL YOU?"

You flinched away. You couldn't help it. The loud angry voice booming next to you, the hand shooting out towards your shoulder…you flinched away, your hands instinctively coming up to shield your face. Trying to make yourself as small as possible. Just as instinctively, apologies started dropping out of your mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" 

Silence.

Well, not really silence but the soothing pitter-patter of rain on the tin roof above you. 

But no words.

No more loud anger.

And no new pain blooming on your body.

You dared to open your eyes and peer beyond your hands. 

Brienne…well, she was beautiful, as always. But she was also white as a sheet, her deep, blue, stunning eyes wide open and bright with unshed tears. Her whole face a mask of hurt as her gaze took in your shape, as far away from her as the small bench allowed you. Her hand was still in the air, but it had lost all the strength, it was just hanging, palm half-opened towards you as if to show you it was harmless. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a broken whisper.

"I…I wasn't going to hit you."

"I…huh…I'm sorry."

She sighed and straightened in her seat, tearing her eyes away from you to settle them on her hands, now clenched in her lap. Her back was once again ramrod straight. Just as she probably was , your mind cruelly reminded you.

"No. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, to make you think that I was…unsafe. I guess that with how I look, it's an easy assumption to make."

"Beautiful."

"I'm sorry?" 

"You said 'with how I look' and that's beautiful. You're beautiful, Brienne. He's a really lucky man."

It wasn't her fault and you knew it. You couldn't blame her for this huge misunderstanding, you couldn't let her think that she or her appearance was to blame for your reactions.

You put your hand on top of hers, trying to get her eyes back on you, to show her how truthful you were. Her hands were so cold. She still didn't look at you.

"He…We huh we're not together together." Her whisper was so soft that you thought you had misheard.

You had to. 

"I'm sorry?"

"Jaime and I are not together." 

"You two…are not?"

"No! I don't know why he would…wait. What did he say? What were his words?"

"Huhhh I don't remember exactly. He said something about you being his partner." You tried to keep the accusation out of your voice. She didn't seem like the type to try to cheat on her partner, denying she was in a relationship at all. Gaslighting you for her own ends. And yet, you didn't dare to hope that…

"Oh for fuck's sake! Is this where all of this came from? He's my work partner . Not my romantic partner!"

"Your… oh . Fuck."

"Yes, fuck. And since we're on the subject, when you asked me, I thought it was going to be a date as well, that's why I gave you my number!! But then we were here and you kept avoiding me and you tensed up every time I touched you and when I tried to kiss you you just ran away and I thought…I don't know what I thought."

"Could you maybe…try that again?"

"Try what?"

"To kiss me. I promise I won't run away this time. Or have a panic attack."

"Just like that? That's not how it's done! The moment must be right and mmmmph–"

You didn't let her finish her sentence. You threw yourself at her, lips on lips, slightly smashing your noses together in your haste. 

But neither of you cared, lips moving against each other, her hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck, and both of yours coming up to cradle her face. You didn’t care, because unbeknownst to the other, each one of you had dreamed of this moment so many times, and yet now that it was happening it was better than any fantasy. 

Comments are always welcome. If you want to read more of my fanfictions, here's my masterlist.