#Merry Christmas Messages For Girlfriend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myouicieloz · 9 months

Note

You overhear Karina talking about how clingy you are and from then out started being distant and non-affectionate towards her and she eventually confronts you and asks why you keep pushing her away, to which you tell her

Over her

Yoo Jimin x reader

Warnings: a little smut in the end (just a little). reader and yn don’t really talk abt it tbh. skipping meals (? idk how to word it better than this).

Word count: 5.4k

Notes: I’m alive!!! sorry for taking forever to answer 😔. I think your message got cut off? so I got a little creative, I hope you don’t mind :). If you do, I can still cut out a few things n stuff. anyways, merry early christmas ig ^^ ps: I also didn’t know if this was supposed to be smut, so I only wrote a little and in the end.

You’ve always been utterly, embarrassingly, completely enamored with your girlfriend. It was obvious to anyone who looked at you for even a single second; you would always be caught staring at Karina with loving eyes, often going out of your way to simply please and spoil her rotten, showering her with kisses and gifts. For you, it was physically impossible to be without her for too long. Her absence made your heart ache, almost as if there were something missing from you. It was difficult to go on with your routine if you didn’t have her by your side. You missed your late night talks, walks at the park, parking lot dates, eating too much junk food together… You missed her, truthfully. All of her.

Naturally, you understood her duties as an idol: being away for shows, events, and photoshoots were part of her life just as much as you were. However, you knew Karina’s time was precious and scarce— which was why, whenever she was back in Seoul, you tried to spend as much quality time together as possible.

Even now, as the group’s busy with their latest Mini Album’s promotions, you couldn’t help but to feel glistening with happiness to have the four girls back in Korea, regardless of them still being so occupied with fansigns, program attendances and rehearsals for their upcoming stages and festival performances. Having them in town gives you the opportunity to join them backstage, which you absolute love; whether it’s the artistic atmosphere, or being able to understand how this industry truly works, with all the engines running frantically in the girls’ background to ensure everything goes as planned… And, of course, getting to watch Karina perform and be the astonishing, all-rounder, talented version of herself was the best part of it all. Anytime you look at her through the big screens, you realize how lucky you truly are— to be able to see all sides of her. To witness how sweet, shy and caring she could also be, once the cameras were not around.

You loved her so much.

“Congratulations, girls! You absolutely nailed it!” You praise the four girls as soon as they leave the stage, breathless from performing at a University Festival. They all smile back, trying to recompose themselves as best as they can, the adrenaline from being on stage slowly running out. You wait for them to calm down, too, before reaching out to give your girlfriend a big hug, in hopes to express yourself through your touches. You mean to tell her how wonderful she had done, but she ends the hug quickly, although her smile still lingers.

“I’m all sweaty, Y/n.” She explains, which you nod and take a step back to give her space. The two of you walk side by side, towards the big dressing room. “I don’t want you to get dirty, too.”

You shrug, trying to hide the uncomfortable feeling that stood on your heart, with the lack of her touches. You understood, though. Karina’s just taking care of you, like the sweet girlfriend she is. So you follow her, without complaints, even though all you want is to jump from excitement and tell her how perfectly she performed, setting the public on fire. Instead, you force yourself to stay still and calm down, laying with the others on the couch as you watch them change into normal clothes and relax.

The cafe’s atmosphere is cozy and calm, a much-needed contrast for the girls after a whole morning of practicing at the company. The place’s barely occupied— lunch break is nearly over for most of the workers— and the only sounds that can be heard are the wind’s peaceful breeze and the girl’s voices, engaged in a nonchalant gossip.

“I’m so hungry.” Winter complains, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder. You all chuckle at the sight; she’s too cute, even when she’s whiny.

“Me too.” You nod, and reach out for your girlfriend’s arm, tugging it slightly to steal her attention from Ning’s excited storytelling. It takes a few moments, but she finally hums, acknowledging you. “Love, do you think the food will take long? I need to use the restroom, but I’ll wait if it’s coming soon.”

Karina frowns, looking behind you for a few seconds. After examining the balcony, she seems to think otherwise. “It might take quite a while, still. We’ve ordered a lot, and we just got here, too. You’re safe to go.”

You nod as you get up and excuse yourself, leaving the girls to their own conversations. Their reserved table, set in a pretty well-hidden corner of the cafe, is the reason you’re able to observe their faces from afar, once you make your way back from the stalls. None of them notice your arrival, too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to your frame.

Giselle, Winter, and Ningning’s faces are uneasy as they listen to Karina’s rambling. Their fingers twitch on the table, and they shake their heads every once in a while, leaving you to wonder what’s gotten them so serious. Trying to understand the matter, you frown behind their backs, approaching the group in slow, unhurried steps.

“… She’s constantly all over me, too. I swear I don’t even have time to breathe without her on my skin, as if she has nothing else to do. It’s so fucking annoying, really. Like, you remember, right? And there was that time when we were all at the park and Y/n was just insufferab—.”

You decide not to eavesdrop on the rest of your girlfriend’s conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping your steps as light as you can, once you turn around and nearly run back to the restroom, ignoring the heavy pitch just forming in your stomach.

You only allow yourself to relax once you reassure your mind that none of them were aware of you listening to Karina’s harsh, hurtful words.

Instead, your hands go to your face, and you try to focus and take deep breaths to prevent the tears from coming. The moment they start, you know it’ll take long to stop. It was one of the things Karina always teased you about: how you’ve always been such a crybaby, drowning yourself in tears for absolutely anything.

Oh, Karina… how could she speak such things about you? You’ve always put on so much effort to be the best, supportive girlfriend you could, with extra care to respect your girlfriend’s boundaries and still express how much you loved her.

It hurt to know she found you annoying and clingy, specially since all you’ve ever meant was to reassure her of your love. Allowing your body to sink into the restroom’s floor, you reach to the ground, hugging your knees in hopes to feel some comfort.

Flashes pass through your mind like rockets, analyzing every single moment you’ve ever spent with Karina. Even if it was the last thing you wanted to do, your mind doesn’t seem to give you any relief, overthinking about each one of her touches, phrases, and actions towards you. Did she even love you? What was she doing with you, then, if she found your presence to be so suffocating? What have you done wrong?

Was your whole existence the problem? The way you acted, your bubbly personality…

The questions, now clearly etched on your brain, did nothing but deepen the lump in your throat, one that left saliva building up in your mouth, making it impossible to swallow. Even the simplest actions were difficult to be executed, just like it was when you were away from your girlfriend for too long.

Despite all, you couldn’t help but let a light chuckle, forcing yourself to get up and wash your face in the sink. You feel like you’re going to collapse if you stay in the cafe. No, that won’t do— you have to go home. Even if it means facing chaos herself.

And her friends, too. They must’ve been aware of Karina’s feelings towards you all along, yet they still let you smile and be all over like a fucking idiot.

You look up, trying not to ruin your mascara and risk having any of them finding out what you’ve just heard. Without rush, you force yourself to even your breathing, inhaling and exhaling in slow movements, focusing on your body’s movements instead of giving in to desperation.

You feel like you’re at the bottom pit, and it fucking sucked.

After minutes of calming yourself down, you dried the remaining tears and got up, sighing as you excited the bathroom. Your hands trailed the walls as you walked without rush, looking for something, anything to provide some strength. Eventually, the walls of the hallway gave way to the open area of the tables, making you gulp. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt too weak, almost as if you were going to pass out at any given moment. Your usual confidence was all gone, and you weren’t at all sure you’d manage to speak to them without stuttering or crying.

“Thank fucking God, Y/n. We thought you got kidnapped or something.” Winter was the first to say, giggling. Giselle and Ningning smiled too, mumbling how you must’ve gotten lost or thrown in a portal to another dimension, perhaps.

Karina nods. “You really took too long out there, Y/n. I almost went looking for you.” Even though her tone is light, your girlfriend’s smile fades once she takes a proper look at your face.

You try your best to smile back at her, hands going unconsciously to your arms, scratching them nervously. You’ve always liked to be the center of their attention; the little moments where they’d ask you for an opinion or actively listen to your rambling… you thrived on them. It felt like they were spoiling you, giving up one of the things they cherished the most to focus on you: their time. Even if just for a few seconds, the feeling of being observed by them brought you a strange feeling of being fulfilled, of being someone important.

“I actually need to go, now.” You mutter, grabbing your stuff whilst refusing to meet your girlfriend’s piercing gaze.

Karina’s already aware something is wrong, though. She knows your body, your expressions, your mannerisms… she’s more than capable of telling when you’re off, much to your discomfort.

“Is everything ok? What happened?” Her hands grab a hold of your elbow, and you nearly joint, throwing your phone and sweater in your purse as fast as you can, to escape from her fingers on you. Her touch hurts, electrocuting your skin as if she were a storm set on a windy, loud night. You couldn’t stand it.

“It’s just a family emergency, don’t worry.” You take a step back, with your wallet in hands to pay for your drink. Bowing slightly to acknowledge the pain you were bringing onto the conversation, you add. “Please keep up with your lunch. I’ll make sure to update you about it soon.”

Karina’s hands rest on top of yours, taking the card from between your fingers and back to the wallet.

“It’s ok, I’ll pay.” Her voice, calm and soothing, is much different from her previous, livid tone. She gives your hand a squeeze, getting up herself. “Do you want me to go with you? Manager unnie will understand.”

The girls nod, their faces also filled with worry. However, you dismiss your girlfriend, diverting your gaze to the ground as you inhale deeply. You’re unable to face her by any given means; you’d fall apart in front of them if you did as such. In fact, you find yourself unable to face any of them. They’ve made a fool out of you for too long, and that single thought is enough for bile to rest in your throat, threatening to spill. You can’t deal with that, not at the moment.

“I mean it: I’m sure I can handle it.” Your muscles tense, and you don’t even notice your body’s backward steps. It was clear you wanted to leave, which was mostly the reason they didn’t pressure further, watching as you hurriedly made our way out.

Karina’s eyes were the most trained, her mind racing with thoughts that left her wondering what had gotten you so shaken, visibly out of place. Clueless, she stared at your frame until you’ve reached the door. Only then, you returned her stare.

The watery look in your eyes is more than enough to make her shiver, gripping her chest to get rid of the heaviness that had installed in her heart. Everything was fine, Karina told herself. You’d soon deal with your incident, and be back by her side as fast as you could, as always.

With that in mind, she relaxes, turning her attention back to her friends’ conversation.

Karina doesn’t understand why your distance hurts so much. She should’ve been relieved: you’ve stopped spamming her phone with updates of your day, no longer sending thousands of pictures and videos of things that, according to you, reminded you of herself. She doesn’t have to deal with your constant neediness, nor does she have to reassure you that you were loved, and she missed you. It’s all she’s ever wanted— to not be disturbed at all, being able to focus on work and just have a good time, overall.

Instead, she feels awful; as if something’s missing. Everything feels wrong; she’s unable to concentrate at all, her skin itches and her thoughts constantly linger on you, wondering.

“Hey, Jimin unnie.” Ning looks up from the ground, stretching herself out on the floor. “Is Y/n coming soon? She always brings the best snacks.” Resting on the couch, Karina lets out a long sigh, looking at the clock displayed above the dance room’s door.

“She’s not stopping by to watch us today.” The oldest explains, shrugging. She tries as hard as she can not to sound affected by it. “It’s Nutcracker season. She’s rehearsing until late, most likely.”

“Most likely? Haven’t you talked to her today to know that?”

Giselle’s sharp tone hurt, specially since Karina’s phone was currently burning in her pocket, with a lot of unread messages she had sent you. Karina twists her fingers to prevent herself from putting her hands on her face, in a tired manner. “No, I haven’t. Like I said, she’s busy. We haven’t talked much since this morning.”

“Wow, this is serious, then.” Giselle’s lips turn into a smirk, as she brushes the sweat out of her face. “Y/n’s never missed a pre-comeback rehearsal of ours. Like, literally never. Not even if she had her own rehearsals to attend. Have you ever attended any of hers, by the way?”

Karina grits her teeth. She knows Giselle means well: she’s friends with you, and is simply curious. Knowing that doesn’t keep the girl from wanting to punch the Uchinaga for annoying her, though. With the engines running inside her head, Karina tries her best to focus on exhausting her body, in hopes of having the burning sensation ease her troubled mind. Still, she couldn’t help but constantly wonder what was going on in with you. Why were you suddenly so distant?

The questions clouded her head, making it difficult to focus on the choreography they were learning. It seems like she wasn’t making up stuff, after all: Giselle’s questions made it clear you were different, weirdly so.

Nodding, Karina added, “Yeah. It’s not like herself at all.”

Giselle meant to continue the conversation, but the dark look Karina shoots her is enough to get the Uchinaga to gulp, focusing back on her movements, along with the melody of their upcoming song. It was none of her business, anyway.

Once the girls make their way back to the dorms, Karina decides she’s had enough of whatever you were intending to do. She’d stop by and confront you, finally. It frustrated her, having to guess your feelings, specially since you’ve been dating for quite a while — now. But she’d do it, if you were so willing to be petty. She’d be the one to reach out first.

“Thank you, girls. I’ll see you in a bit. I won’t be late, promise.” Karina’s words reverberate through the car, as she waves goodbye to her friends.

Her three bandmates were, as always, more than quick to encourage her to reach out to you, after the distance between you lingered for weeks. Even though it would cost her hours she should be spending in the recording room, they’ve immediately told Karina to talk to you, urging to have both of you in good terms once again.

Ever since you’ve become a shell of the caring, sweet girlfriend you once were, Karina’s been jittery; she was easily irritated and often picked arguments over the simplest things. It was clear the situation was taking a toll on her, in ways she’d never admit. Karina would die before confessing how much she missed your voice, your care, your touches. She’d never admit it. After all, she did constantly complain about how clingy and annoying you were— it was only fair she lived up to her words.

With a sigh, the girl enters your Dance Studio, tugging at the tiny Christmas decorations that hang through the reception area, the doors, and the walls. She realizes she’s never actually been inside the massive building for more than three, maybe four times. Usually, Karina would just wait for you by the car, never bothering to get to know the place you spent the majority of your time, whenever you weren’t attending your classes. Karina mutters a curse under her breath, silently punishing herself for not paying enough attention to you, as she smiles at the receptionist and asks about your location.

“Second four, third door on the left. She’s booked up a private room for a few hours, but they should be near the end, now.” The woman told her, as Karina bowed her in recognition, making her way towards the elevator.

Once she’s walking through the hallways, a big, colored paper with numerous names catches her eyes, standing out in the sea of decorations and adornments. It’s a casting list, and Karina’s chest fills with pride as she reads your name: first in line, cast as the lead dancer. She vaguely remembers of one of your rambles months prior, the low tone of your voice exposing how ashamed you were to confess about your nervousness to audition. At that time, Karina had been so focused on her own stuff she barely gave your topics any attention at all, dismissing them with a few hums until you focused on her rants again.

Now, Karina desperately wished she had paid you more attention. She urged to be active in your life: to know what was happening in your routine, your troubles and whatever was making you happy at the moment. Filled with guilt, the dark-haired girl slides the door slowly, delighting herself in the sight of your perfectly arranged frame, stretching yourself by the bars.

“You haven’t told me you got cast as Clara.” She says, quietly, staring at how precise and eloquent your moves are, even though the music that comes from your phone is faint, nearly inaudible.

You take a look at your girlfriend through the mirrors, trying your best to look indifferent. In reality, the first thought you’ve had as soon as you got cast as the lead dancer for the company’s Winter play was to call her, screaming in excitement for accomplishing something you’ve wanted for so long. But her words were still livid on your mind—which is why you simply shrug, going on with your barre routine, back straightened and arms arched. Once again, it was difficult to act like her stare didn’t burn, consuming you completely, but you reverberated through it.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I only got it because Seowon unnie is injured, anyway. She didn’t even audition.”

“I see.” Karina says. Her eyes examine your body so intensely you gulp, reaching out for your water bottle. She follows your every move, like a fox out for a hunt. “Do you want to have lunch? We can finally have some time for us, then. You’ve been so busy.” Her tone is sarcastic, and you know she’s fully aware of the distance you’ve been putting on between them. Her message is clear: she’s done playing and waiting for you to gather your thoughts and come back to her on your own, as you’d usually do whenever you argued.

Only you weren’t backing up or apologizing, this time.

“I can’t put on weight. I have fittings in 3 days.” Karina frowns, approaching until you were unable to continue your moves.

She looks at your body, eyes searching for any flaws with such hunger, you instantly feel heat invading your cheeks.

“You’re good.” Leaving no space for denial, she turns around and holds the door open, motioning for you to go first. “Now, let’s have lunch.”

“Is it something with your family?” Karina is the first to break the awkward silence that lingers on the lunch table, in hopes to stir anything inside you to make you stop playing with your salad and look at her face. It works: you look up, genuinely confused.

“What? No, they’re good.” You tuck your hair behind your ears, clearly not enjoying the date. If anything, your moves are mechanic, hesitant.

If it were any other day, you’d be talking until you had to grasp for air, filling Karina in every detail of your life for the second or third time, probably. She thinks she’ll go insane at the sight of you, sitting idle on the desk, with big, sad eyes.

“Good. It’s good they’re all well and healthy.” She says, then adds, lifting her brows. Even though she tries not to express how irritated she is by the situation, Karina’s not good at hiding her expressions. “What is wrong? You’re clearly different, but keep acting petty and not telling me what it is.”

Your mouth opens in a perfect “O” as the words leave your girlfriend’s mouth. Does she think you’re that immature? She must simply not care about her own words, then. You’re sure of it. “I’m not fucking petty.”

Karina stares at your arms, tightly crossed against your chest, and at your pout. She almost laughs, thinking about how adorable the sight is, but the fire in your eyes reminds her of the current situation. She leans back on the chair, motioning for you to do something. Anything.

“Talk, then.”

She infuriates you. Just sitting in front of you, so sure she’s done nothing wrong, as if you’re the only one to blame.

“You’re really clueless, aren’t you?” It takes some deep breaths to not point a finger at her, so you just let out a dry laugh. “I’m just giving you what you want.”

“What do you mean by that?” Once again, she looks genuinely confused. Before you get to answer, thought, Karina’s phone rings. She picks up immediately, not at all pleased with how you rolled your eyes at the interruption. It’s Aeri, calling to say Bada had already arrived, and she’s the only one missing for them to start cleaning the choreo.

You get up before she has the chance to say anything, with a fake smile as you wait for her to call the waiter and pay for your date.

“I have to go, too.” You say, walking up slightly faster than her. When it’s time for you to actually part ways, though, you stop, unsure of what to do. You would rather not touch her; it still hurts, and part of you was indeed petty enough to deprive her of your touch, after her complaints.

Karina beats you to it, however. Before you register, she seals your lips in a delicate kiss, one you can’t help but melt on.

“See you soon, Y/n. I love you.” She says, before entering her company’s car and being driven away. She doesn’t wait for you to acknowledge the situation, and you’re happy for that.

Huffing in frustration, you make your way back towards your studio, in hopes to keep your strained relationship out of your mind, even if just for a few hours.

As much as Karina thinks it through, she can’t fantom where she’s gone wrong. You’ve just distanced yourself so suddenly, and it has left a hole in her heart, along with a lingering itch on her skin that makes her want to scratch her arms until they’re red and sore. She’s busy, and she knows you’re busy, too, but she’s had enough of this. She misses you, and she hates herself for complaining about how you’ve always shown her nothing but love. She took it for granted before, but she won’t anymore.

Her palms are slippery as she knocks on the dressing room’s door, not waiting much until she’s given permission to enter. She’s not surprised to find you alone— your friends told her you were usually the last one to change into normal clothes, as crowded spaces made you breathless and anxious. She is, though, surprised to find you looking down at your hands, so small and filled with sorrow, despite having performed flawlessly not even an hour ago.

You’re surrounded by stuffed animals, letters, and gifts from your friends and family, yet it still seems so… empty. And you know what’s lacking.

The girl standing by the door knows it, too.

“You looked beautiful on the stage tonight.” Karina says, carefully placing the huge bouquet she bought you on the empty part of the table, the one your hands rest. “As always. My beauty.”

You nod, gripping your chair as you try to ground yourself. Even your body navigated towards her; it was hard not to run into her arms and forget how hurt you were.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You truly didn’t, even though you had sent invites to her and the girls, they were always so busy— they’ve never attended, before.

It’s Karina’s turn to be hesitant — now. Trapping her hands in her pockets, she adds. “I don’t want to be absent from your life anymore.” The statement, all you’ve wanted to hear for so, so long, makes your heart nearly joint. You try to speak, but she’s still immersed in her words. “I miss you. And I have no fucking clue of why you’ve been so distant lately, but I miss your laugh, your touches—fuck, I miss everything about you. I know I’ve been so fucking selfish, and I’ve never realized you were the only one making efforts for us for so long.” You’re still looking at her through the mirror when she places her head on your shoulders, hands playing with your leotard’s thin strap to have something to occupy herself with. “I’m sorry.”

You gulp, looking at the beautiful flowers she got you. Being without Karina had turned you into a mess, but you still feel just as uneasy in her presence. No matter how much you try, you can’t seem to forget her words. How irritated she sounded, at the time, as if you were such a bother.

Your girlfriend was still waiting for her answer, so you take some flowers into your hands, as you ask, hesitant. “Don’t I suffocate you? I’m too much, I guess.”

Karina shakes her head. “Of course not. Where’d you get that from?” Her hands move to your waist, subtly, her light fingers barely noticeable as they brush your covered skin.

“You can stop lying, you know. Just tell me if you do.” Your voice cracks, and it’s enough for Karina to realize how hurt you truly were, by the affirmation.

It comes to her, then, that you weren’t being petty, all over the past weeks. You were just hurt, and needed some time. She feels guilty for being the reason for such feelings.

Hugging you with a strong grip, she decides to be honest. “There was a time… where I felt like it, for a bit. I was overworked, and annoyed at everything. But then you vanished, and… it felt like there was something missing, I guess.”

Her face is all red from the confession, making you smile. It’s a rare occurrence, for Karina to talk about her feelings, and even more for her to confess anything. It’s the real proof she missed you; the girl’s willingness to be vulnerable, even if for a small moment.

You missed her so, so much. As always you’re the first to give in, no longer fighting the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to distance yourself and leave Karina.

“Let’s go home, ‘Jiminie.” You murmur, humming as you feel her hands all over your body, groping and twisting your skin, touch starved for anything you could provide. You whine, looking at her through her lashes. In this love bubble, your drunken state is enough for Karina to kiss you, her sweet taste marked with hunger.

“I don’t want to wait, though. I’ve missed you for too long.” She looks at you dead serious, adding, “Far too long.”

You nod, a moan escaping your mouth when Karina pushes all the makeup and the gifts onto the ground, her lithe hands gripping your thighs and urging you up on the vanity with ease. Once again, her fingers try to get through your leotard, huffing when she’s met with tights instead of bare skin.

You grab her wrists, giggling at her urgent moves. “Don’t.” You warn, turning your head when Karina meets your lips for another breathless, hungry kiss. Her mouth meets the corner of yours, instead. You’d forgotten how much you loved to tease her. “I have to perform tomorrow, and for weeks after that. Don’t ruin them.”

She retreats completely, then. Stepping back, she places her hands up, following your demands. Her body language is relaxed, but her voice is strained, stating how she truly feels. “You better take them off — now. And give me a show.”

You roll your eyes at the lack of sweetness, but another sharp look from Karina and you’re quick to do as told. Her attention is solely on you, admiring your precise moves. You’re just as graceful and beautiful as when you went on stage, and Karina drinks on the vision.

Without rush, you unbutton your costume until it falls from your body, lifting yourself up to let the fabric dangle on the ground. Your body is exposed to your girlfriend’s touch. You’re drenched, desperate to have her after so long apart. You can feel the heat on your skin, as you reach out to have her close once again. It lingers, only deepening with the hungry, messy kiss you and Karina share. Her hands meet your neck, and you gasp the moment you feel her fingers blocking your airways. The dizziness, along with her wet mouth on your chin, then marking your neck as she has her share of you, just as starved. You’re too light-headed to complain about the bruises, being so quick to turn into a moaning, breathless mess.

“I missed you t-too much.” You murmur, drawing your head back as she licks her way down on your body. You watch, starstruck, as she falls down on her knees, hands spreading your thighs with ease.

You take a hold of her long, dark hair, but don’t motion to force your girlfriend’s face into your cunt— you know better than that. Instead, you wait, eagerly, as she parts your folds. Her other hand comes to collect your juices, proving on your sweetness.

“I’m obsessed with you.” She mutters, breath hot on your cunt. Her eyes meet yours, and she’s just as breathless. “Fucking obsessed. Do you understand? This is all mine.”

Without a warning, she licks a big stripe of your pussy, her nose bumping onto your clit without much pressure. The action, though not rough, is more than enough to have lewd, loud sounds come out of your mouth. The only thing on your mind is your girlfriend. Her touches and the pleasure she was always so eager to give you.

“I’ll worship you because you’re mine.”

Perhaps your relationship was built on empty promises. But as for the moment, the only thing that matters is Karina’s hot, warm breath on your skin, and how right it feels.

#sol writes #sol’s works #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina aespa smut #karina x reader #karina smut #karina aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa x yn #aespa x you #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #kpop x reader

2K notes · View notes

cherryspicest · 9 months

Text

I'm here for you

Part 1 Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Might not be the happiest Christmas, but surely she’ll make your holiday count.

Only if you could put in the emptiness of your heart inside the white blanket and leave it under throughout the day, you could’ve done it. Yet it was impossible, only to see yourself sitting on the white comfy bed with a pillow atop your legs, blanket tucked in between and your tummy as you rest your arms over the pillow. The pouring snowflakes outside the window was not enough to count Christmas’ for you—unless she replies back with a text.

You didn’t receive any message from Sullyoon again after she greets you Merry Christmas. Though it is a holiday season, a time where she would spend more of her day with her relatives, her active status that shows online throughout the day clears out the good thoughts running up in your mind.

A few hours ago, you called her friend Lily on the phone to ask about Sullyoon, and told you she is with them while you hear clanking bottles in the background. Even with the urge of asking her to give the phone to her, you rather shrugged it off—letting her enjoy the time with her friends even if she has left you like this.

Enjoy your Christmas love! Call me if anything happens—You type into your phone, unmotivated

You feel pity for yourself, and yet still rather play stupid with all these scenarios that she would sometimes leave you. Throughout your life, losing your girlfriend is what you swore not to happen. One risky action driven by emotions is a sure path for the end of such promise.

You immediately throw the pillow and the blanket when you hear three soft knocks on the entrance door. Expecting it to be your girlfriend, but rather it was Wonyoung—your best friend—standing in front of you in a tight red dress, enough to shape out the perfect curvature of her body. She carries a paper handbag in the other hand with a small christmas tag stapled in it.

“Merry Christmas!” She greets with a sweet smile.

Her usual smile - cute voice tone combo she always does never gets tiring. The fact that she only shows that side to you gives you the reason to value it.

You let her in shortly. Her heels make soft thuds in every of her step while she makes her way towards the kitchen table to place her carriage. When she notices you never had anything to prepare, nor even ingredients and food around the kitchen, she flips around to look at you with widened eyes.

“No food? You haven’t prepared anything for yourself?” She asks, and you push your lips. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

The silence from you was enough for her to take as she scoffs in disbelief. “That bitch didn’t even visit you here, Y/n?”

“Hey, you can’t call her that. She’s still my girlfriend though.”

“So what?” She rolls her eyes and groans. “Where is she?”

“I’m just letting her enjoy Christmas with her friends right now. If she’s happy there then, can I even do anything? I just want her to be happy.”

“No Y/n, you’re stupid. You’re here fucked up around your small apartment, looking helpless, and expecting her to show up in your door when she entirely chose to stay with her friends..”

“Wonyoung, she’s my girlfriend.”

“As if I care?” She raises an eyebrow. Her voice tone went deep and natural. “Plus I know things better, she’s your girlfriend, I’m your girl-best-friend. No wonder she doesn’t have the word best compared to me—because she’s .”

“Alright, no need to say it again.” You interrupt her, and she smirks.

The amount of slurs she said to your girlfriend was enough to make any guy pissed, though you’re not one of them as you take her words completely normal. That abrasive attitude would always show up whenever Sullyoon does something that she wouldn’t like. Insults, jokes, slurs everywhere like a typical male gaming lobby.

“Chicken bucket? Fries? Steak? What do you want?” She continues scrolling on her phone, not bothering to look at you. “Caviar? Milk Tea? It’s all in me, don’t care if it's priced like Dior or Versace.”

“It’s your money.

“That’s why I’m asking you? I want my money to be wasted on something that would make you happy at least.”

You sigh. “You’re so cheesy, can you stop it for once.”

“I’m not being cheesy.” She grins. That pissed off look seems to disappear right away. “Just pointing out the reason why I’m asking you that.”

No buts, no what ifs, chicken bucket is what you chose, and Wonyoung came to agree with your decision. Tapping the add to cart, buy, then that’s it, the food will adjust for your lazy asses because you can’t head to the chicken store 2 streets away from your place.

The delivery arrives earlier than expected. There was no reason for Wonyoung to flex the thick amount of folded money inside her wallet before she opened the door—-and yet she still did. That action was unnecessary, but it's typical of her, she’d do such things to prove how lucky you are to be her best friend.

“Are you attending some red carpet event with that dress?”

She chuckles while pulling the bucket out from the paperbag. “You like it?”

“Probably yeah, it’s just funny you have to wear some luxurious shit just to visit me here.” You grab a drumstick from the bucket and take a bite. “I look poor around you.”

“I’d still appreciate it though.” She grabs a drumstick for herself too. “By the way, did she even greet you?”

“She did, atleast.”

“You even know the place is? Whom she is with?”

You sigh and grin. “What’s with the interrogation, Wonyoung? You sound like my mom whenever I arrive home.”

She pushes your shoulder, enough to move you an inch away. “Hey, I’m asking you? I don’t need your stupid side comments.”

“Come on, she’s with her friends, that’s it, I know she’d be safe anyways. The place?”

“Green flag Y/n?”

You cross your arm and smile, proud of being called as one.

“No, you’re stupid. If I could only hit you with my heels right now, I would have right now.”

“Go ahead.”

“Uh? You’re really challenging me to do so? You know I don’t say shit that I wouldn’t do.”

You keep your attention on the TV in the living room . “Go ahead.”

Wonyoung’s words were never meant to only scare you away. You ready yourself when she puts down her drumstick over the table, and reaches for her heel. She raises her shoes at you, and you manage to grab her wrist at time. You feel her pushing you more and more, not minding what and where the direction you’re both into.

“You’re so weak, Wony.” You tease, and she lets out a hiss. Her narrowed eyes show how much she wants to win against you.

“I hate you so much.”

She groans, and seems to boost up her inner strength. You feel her force get heavier. In a moment, you start to move backwards, her expression is enough for you to see her desire to contest against you. It all stops when your back meets the refrigerator.

Your world seems to pause, everything feels slow. While your grasps are at both Wonyoung’s raised wrists, you didn’t realize how close you were both. Both of your eyes gazing into each other like two interlinked bridges that never get separated. Your breaths are the only ones you can hear between, yet it never stopped you from admiring your best friend’s visual.

You let go of her wrists, it was a weird feeling to remain that composure. The sense of awkwardness struck out of nowhere yet it is a better thing to shrug it off.

When you make your way back to the table, she follows shortly in a slow pace like a little girl who broke a glass. She grabs her paper bag closer to her, revealing a wine bottle in her hand just as she pulls it out. It was the typical holiday type wine that rich people give their close ones, obviously the same level of status as them where you can’t relate.

“Someone wasted an amount of stash again.” You joke.

“It’s just wine.” She rolls her eyes. “Stop acting like you never went to the same school as me. You think you forgot how your mom even paid for my private taxi when it was too late at night already.”

“It’s my mom, not me.” You notice her wandering around the kitchen as if she’s finding something. “And, the wine glasses are in the 4th cabinet up there.”

Clumsy Wonyoung as usual, always the struggle of finding something. She’d be losing her pens every single time back in freshman years where she’ll make up an excuse of her pen teleporting in an unknown dimension.

She hands you the glass, then pours the wine carefully in it. She does one for herself then motions to clank with you in which you accepted.

“A great holiday ahead.” She smiles, then sips into her wine glass.

She’s too luxurious for you. The way you’d drink the wine glass like a milk in a cup, hoping it doesn’t look embarrassing, while she drinks it too formally as if you’re a CEO of some known brand.

Lowkey, you’re expecting some message from your girlfriend on your phone—-yet there was none. A single vibration from your pocket is enough to keep you alive—and there was none even. At least, Wonyoung is here to keep you stable and promising, a true friend who’d never leave you.

“Fuck, the hell even happened to her,” you mutter, pertaining to your girlfriend.

“Sorry?” Wonyoung pauses.

She notices the phone in your hand which gave the reason for her smile to disappear slowly. She knows it, always your stupidity, but rather not show it to you and decided to continue sipping in her wine glass.

“Ok, let’s do this,” says Wonyoung as she unexpectedly snatches your phone, then hides it behind her. “No phones tonight, we enjoy this day together like how we used to do when we were still at the same school.”

“Come on, give it back.” You walk closer, effortfully trying to grab your phone back.

“What if I don’t?”

She places the phone on her other hand, giving you a hard time reaching it unless you wrap your hand around hers.

“Friendship over then.”

“Is that so?” She stretches her arm down.

That phone is what all you wanted, and the urge of snatching it back from her is heating you up. No matter how awkward things may be, you come closer and grab her wrist behind, ignoring the close proximity between you and her as if you are cuddling like couples. Her grip on your phone was surprisingly strong that it might take you a little why before you can forcefully free it.

She looks at you in mischief, then a smirk forms into the corner of her lips.

“Let’s break our friendship then,” she says softly, and you feel the warmth of her breath on your neck, “chingu geu isang-eul wonhanikkayo”.

“So what did you just say to me?”

“Want me to translate it for you?”

A quick second glance on your lips, then she leans forward to press her lips into yours. There was no time to react, nor escape in this scenario. You feel your heart skip a beat when you feel her lips on yours, slowly accepting the fact she’s kissing you right now.

The kiss was getting deeper. She slowly wraps her arms around your neck while she pulls you even closer. You feel her tongue asking for entrance, and there was no reason for not to welcome it. She lets out a soft moan when you wrap your hands around her hips. Now it’s a make out session—with your alluring, old best friend that you’ve known more than any you’ve met.

You wanted it so badly. These hormones heat you up as if you wanted to get undressed and finish right away. Yet there was a hold back, a sense of stop like there were chains around your wrists, no matter how much you wanted to continue, it does not let you.

Placing your fingers on her chin was enough for her to stop and pull away.

“Wonyoung, I can’t. I’m sorry, this is ridiculous.” You shake your head while you avoid her eyes, pulling away as you distance yourself. “I can’t cheat on my girlfriend, you know this is wrong right?”

“I know it’s wrong,” she contests. “But that’s the only way for you to understand my feelings.

“Wony–”

“Yes, you’re right. I fucking love you, and I don’t understand why do you have to be numb throughout the years we’ve been together.” She keeps her eyes locked at you. “Because every time I confess, you always think I’m fooling with you, or either way I’m drunk, crazy, or stressed. And here my stupid ass is going to pretend it is because I don’t want to embarrass myself!”

The atmosphere between you two seemed to set upside down when you once heard that deep natural voice from her—it was a cue for her seriousness. Your feelings are mixed like scattered tin cans, nothing specific, hard to distinguish. You just wanted to leave and smell the fresh air outside to calm yourself down, yet you didn’t want to leave Wonyoung like this either.

“I don’t understand.” There’s nothing you could do but leave your mouth open. “That must be the wine.”

She forces a smile, scoffing as she begins to nod lightly while her eyes appear teary. “Yeah, must be the wine, this fucking wine. It’s always me or any shit you would see just to make me look crazy.”

“Come on, do we have to come at this point? Wonyoung you know it’s hard for me to understand this, I have a girlfriend, and . . . “

She picks up her small sling bag from the bar chair, and looks at you, fixing her hair. “I know, you have Sullyoon. It’s my fault as well, I shouldn’t have been this fragile likewise.” She sniffs and moves a few strands in her hair. “I think it’s better for me to go, Merry Christmas.”

“Wonyoung.”

Calling her name was not enough to make her stop from walking out of your apartment. The silence was loud, and you flowed with it.

You find yourself standing emptily like a mannequin as you watch the door close itself. Everything that happened flows quickly, one an action that can’t be undone, and it’s all gone. That kiss is enough to change how you see your best friend anymore.

#wonyoung #ive #ive wonyoung #izone wonyoung #jang wonyoung #girl groups #izone #long post

620 notes · View notes

redbullgirly · 8 months

Text

HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 2, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 1, LH44 smau]

Summary: Lewis and his "real life Barbie" girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, are enjoying each others company during winter break. February brings unexpected drama when the seven-time World Champion decides to leave his team... though is that the only surprise waiting for the fans?

Warnings: Little cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I plan on making part 3 soon enough :).

Author's Note: This is continuation of the Lewis x barbie!fashion!icon!reader request, hope you'll all like it. This time there wasn't so much of "barbie content", but I'm sure you won't mind. I honestly love this series, plus there are still many photos for me to use, so stay tuned and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! :)

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by susie_wolff, yourusername, charles_leclerc and 1,210,564 others

tagged: yourusername and fencer

lewishamilton Happy holidays from our little trip to mountains 🏔

view all 6,928 comments

user1 I swear to God this is the first time I see Lewis in snow

user2 ikr? like can he even sky? isn't it dangerous for him as an f1 driver??😭

yourusername merry christmas everybody, love u!!🎄🫶

liked by the author

user3 Very happy and merry Christmas to you too Y/N🥰

user4 yeah yeah... but where's the usual christmas post y/n?!

user5 that's what I wanna know user5 😥

user6 She always posts the hot pics with their tree... and this year nothing ☹️

yourusername omg sry guys, i didn't think you'd care sm! i was actually sick on the christmas eve and didn't feel like celebrating 🙈💖

user4 ohhh that's totally okay y/n!!!!

user7 Thanks for replying, hope you'll get better soon!❤️‍🩹

charles_leclerc I see you're copying my training now😉

user8 lol charles just try not to fall on your face on ski

user9 no but can you imagine if we got Charles & Lewis training together in the mountains 😩

user10 It wouldn't even have to be in the mountains... I'd actually prefer them training somewhere hot so they don't have to wear shirts🤭

user9 i love your way of thinking girly

user11 King 👑

roscoelovescoco Mom's and dad's playing's in's the snow's ❄️

liked by the author and yourusername

user12 they left you home alone Roscoe?

roscoelovescoco Of course's not's... my auntie's watched's me's ☺️

user13 This is so adorable🥹🥹

user14 y'all don't understand how much I love their little family

user15 😘🖤✌️💯🌟

user16 y/n's ski suit looks so cool

fencer Good times man!

liked by the author and yourusername

user17 You are my God, Lewis Hamilton❤️

mercedesamgf1 Enjoy your holidays and don't break anything please!⛷🤍

yourusername trying!! 😊🌨

user18 lmfao

user19 Imagine if their best driver broke a leg or smth💀

user20 as a Lewis fan that'd be the last straw of my depression xd

user21 It's enough they couldn't build him a decent car last two years 🥲

user21 you & y/n are the best couple ever!🥰❤️

user22 Why's Lewis in red tho?

user23 sus 🤨

user24 some of you are truly bored and delusional🤣

user25 He probably has it so Y/N can see him on the slope and watches over him tbh

user26 idk where the narrative of lewis being bad at skying came from but i love it 😭

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram stories

seen by lewishamilton, haileybieber, danielricciardo, emmawatson and 562,983 others

lewishamilton replied to your story: Love you so much baby!❤️

yourusername love u too!!!💞

lewishamilton You are my brave girl, aren't you?

lewishamilton It's great you share your experience with others Y/N and trust me when I say I'll always be there for you 🫶🏾🫶🏾

yourusername awww lew, i know and i'll be always so grateful for it 🥰

lewishamilton Anything for my Barbie yourusername reacted with ❤️ to this message

user1 replied to your story: You and Lewis are just soooo cute omg

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story: forever y/n!!🤍🌺

yourusername ofc!!!

yourusername you're probably the only reason i hope the negotiations w ferrari will work out 🙈🤭

alexandrasaintmleux oh yeah, it'd be great to have you in the garage next year 💕

yourusername yeah, let's see what happens in few weeks!

user2 replied to your story: so prettyyyyyy i wanna be u

user3 replied to your story: THE IT GIRL

landonorris replied to your story: The question isn't if you'll be at every gp but if you'll come to McLaren hospitality for one of them😏

yourusername pretty sure mercedes wouldn't be happy about that 🫣

landonorris Oh c'mmon Y/NNNN

landonorris You promised me like ten years ago you'd come

yourusername you were a literal baby ten years ago lando...

landonorris But a cute baby who deserves to have you in McLaren hospitality!!!

yourusername okay okay, i'll come for a visit this year 😽

landonorris ONE HAMILTON DOWN TWO TO GO💪

yourusername what?? 😭

landonorris I decided my life goal is to get you, Roscoe and Lewis to be my fans 😁😁

landonorris Lewis can wait till retirement ofc 😁😁

yourusername idk if i hate you or love you mr. worldwide

landonorris 🤷😙

user4 replied to your story: Mommy and daddy fr

user5 replied to your story: 😍

user6 replied to your story: Hope you'll heal soon if you're still sick!!!

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by bellahadid, lewishamilton, alexandrasaintmleux and 683,912 others

tagged: lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco

yourusername my job is beach 🦀🐬🐚🪸☀️ (btw how many emojis is too much??)

view all 4,068 comments

lewishamilton Isn't that supposed to be Ken's line darling?

yourusername theoretically... but i think i look better on the beach, don't you? 🤭🤷‍♀️

lewishamilton Well of course, your fashion taste when it comes to bikini is hard to beat ✨🫶🏾

yourusername damn are you saying i look hot in that bikini mr. hamilton? ☺️💞

lewishamilton It's Sir actually

yourusername oh shut up lew, i knew you're gonna bring it up 😭

landonorris I just witnessed Lewis openly flirting through instagram comments... the world won't ever be the same. I need to bleach my eyes 😓

yourusername yeah u should learn from my bf lando norizz

landonorris Heyyy this is online bullying, someone stop it

yourusername 😘😘

landonorris 🫤

user1 i have no idea what just happened but i loved every second of it

user2 It looks like when Lewis finally interacts with someone on instagram, it can get WILD

user3 not y/n using lando norizz 💀

user4 she's one of us now

user5 BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW SWEET Y/N & LEWIS ARE PLS?!!🥹

user6 Y/N living her best life and I'm here for it

francisca.cgomes enjoy!🌴

liked by the author

yourusername thx kika, you too!!💓

user7 On my knees for you🛐🛐🛐

roscoelovescoco The fruit's on's the plane's was yummy's 😋🥗

yourusername i definitely agree, let's thank dad for spoiling us!💖

lewishamilton My favourites deserve only the best 😉

user8 AWWWW so cute

user9 I'll never understand why rich people torture their pets like this... c'mmon, why would you give fruit to a dog? He needs meat and dog food. 🙄😤

user10 tf user9 you clearly don't know them at all if you think they're torturing Roscoe... this dog has better life than most of us lol xd

yourusername i'd just like to make it clear to everyone that me and lewis take the best care of our dog we possibly can, give him the food he wants and needs and love him dearly. it feels very offending for someone who doesn't see into our private life to assume we're "torturing" roscoe. you'll be blocked user9 and goodbye

liked by lewishamilton

user11 You know you fucked up when queen Y/N herself writes smth like this to you 🫢

user12 tell them girl!!! you & lew are literally the best parents to roscoe ever!!!❣️

user13 🔥😍

user14 THE BODY GIVING

kellypiquet Wow, the dress is so beautiful!💝

yourusername aww kelly thank you sm! definitely have to see each other soon 💕🫶

kellypiquet Can't wait for the girls talk!

user15 omg imagine listening to y/n y/l/n and kelly piquet casually having girls talk w each other 😫😫

user16 The tea has to be hot between the wags

user17 OMG, gorgeous as always 💖

user18 this couple has me in a chokehold

user19 RIGHT?! why is nobody talking about the 4th pic

user20 They're so hot fr 🥵

user21 and cute too🥺

user22 Love you Y/N 💋

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by nicolashamilton, naomischiff, tomholland2013, landonorris and 1,983,022 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton It's always important to focus on happy memories and remember the good moments with your loved ones. Couldn't ask for better people around me 🤞🏾💫

view all 11,239 comments

user1 funny how he talks about positivity and then in the first picture he's holding middle fingers up lmfao XD

user2 Maybe he took Daniel's F.E.A. rule to his heart🤣

user3 what's that???

user2 Fuck 'em all

yourusername so lucky to have you around me lew! 🥰💗

liked by the author

user4 stoppp I love her

user5 I wanna have what they have😩

charles_leclerc 🤞💫

user6 Ariana what are you doing here?!

user7 Beautiful 🙌❤️

user8 ohhh lew w his dad it's so cute

user9 His dad and Y/N in the same post... we are getting fed rn

neymarjr Amen brother!🙏❤️

liked by the author

user10 I love their their friendship

user11 it's so unreal how the world is small and my fav football player is friends with my fav driver🤭

user12 THE MAN

user13 the second pic is adorable 🥹🥹

user14 I'm jealous but I don't know if I wanna be him or her

user15 honestly i wanna be the third person in their relationship... imagine dating y/n y/l/n & lewis hamilton all at once😩

user16 OMG REAL

user17 boyfriend lewis is my favorite 🫡

1st February 2024

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by scuderiaferrari, lewishamilton, maxfewtrell, t22felton and 3,340,276 others

yourusername guess it's time to change colours ❤️🍓🌹🏎

view all 29,650 comments

scuderiaferrari Welcome to the team, Y/N!❤️‍🔥🏎

user1 you'll make our fav wag depressed next year lol

user2 Ferrari made a master move here 👏

user3 welcome y/nnnnn 🥰

user4 I'm still shocked

user5 me too sis😭

user6 We all are 😃

user7 🔥🔥

user8 when the gf is posting about it, we know it's not just a joke anymore😥

user9 FORZA FERRARI

user10 omg me & y/n y/l/n will be fans of the same team!!!!

user11 literally the only good thing about this

alexandrasaintmleux red looks gorgeous on you 💋💋

yourusername on both of us babe 💋💋

user12 BESTIES

user11 okay this is another good thing about the whole lewis situation xd

user13 Y/N and Alex will be so iconic next year 🙇‍♀️

user14 literally life goals to be like them😍

user15 So excited for this🤩 favorite driver and favorite team and favorite wag🤝

user16 idc about ferrari, but y/n in red slays

user17 omg yessss she's so hot in that dress🥵

charles_leclerc And now you can't make fun of me and my therapist 😘

liked by the author

user18 LOL

user19 not him admitting he goes to therapy bc of ferrari💀

user20 What about Carlos?? You said you come as a package 😡😪

user21 so true user20 it's so disrespectful towards carlos

user22 Guys calm down, this is their job and it's known for brutal driver switches. You'll have to deal with it, it's not personal business 🤷‍♂️

user23 yeah i don't think they're such good friends anyway... it was all for pr and marketing lmao

user24 I agree that it's just a sport, but pls don't do this to my charlos heart... their friendship HAS to be real😓

user25 Always support u and your boyfriend😉😉😉🙌🙌🙌

user26 Carlos deserved so much more!

user27 yes but she can't do anything about it girl, she's literally just dating Lewis 😐

user28 "Everybody is a Ferrari fan. Even if they say they're not, they are Ferrari fans." Vettel❤️

user29 i did not think it was real

user30 I need Lewis to comment something about this other than his statement pls 😭

user31 yeah i had high hopes bc he always comments and interacts w y/n's posts...

user32 Guess not this time😒

user33 Y/N unleashing more waves of chaos

user34 and we love our barbie for that 🤭

messages between Y/N and Lewis

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this! I'll appreciate likes, reblogs, comments, follow and any other way of support. Also, I started my taglist, so if you want to be added or removed, let me know! That way you!ll be first to know that another smau or story came out :). Sorry for the cliffhanger at the end, but don't worry, I plan on making another part. Have a great day!

Taglist: @namgification @bloodyymaryyy

856 notes · View notes

daechwitatamic · 2 years

Text

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t || MYG

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t

WC: 11k

Genre: exes to lovers, the babiest angst straight to fluffy smut (they’ve got shit to work out, but they get there!!)

Summary: You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Rating: NSFW - minors DNI

Warnings: manbun!yoongi YES THAT IS A WARNING, drinking, language, kissing, breast play/nip stim, fingering, unprotected sex with bc (be safer than this!!!), multiple orgasms (f), penetrative sex, soft idiots in love

A/N: Merry Christmas, Kelly!!!! @here4btsfics I was soooooo excited to pull your name for @bangtansecretsanta because it gave me such a good opportunity to get to know you better and start talking to you! I really, really hope you love this little Christmas fic!

I know you said no angst so just a lil disclaimer, a synopsis I messaged my beta was "it hurts for a hot minute but then they kiss about it and everyone is fine" so I think you'll be okay!!!

Huge thank you to @kookstempo @moonleeai and @cherrysoulth for beta-ing and to @itaeewon for the gorgeous banner!

“Anything new with you? How’s work?”

You plaster on what you hope is a friendly smile and not a sarcastic one. Seokjin’s girlfriend is super nice, you remember her from a party over the summer, but you do not want to talk about work right now. You want to drown yourself in another cinnamon toast crunch cocktail and double-fist those iced, reindeer-shaped brown-sugar cookies.

You admit to being a little bit on edge.

You’ve attended Taehyung’s annual Christmas party every year since you left for college. It’s tradition, and it’s one of the only times each year that the whole group is back together again after you all went your separate ways in the world.

Except, for the last five years, Yoongi hadn’t attended. You never thought too much about why - too busy, other plans, just the fact that he’s an absolute Grinch… or maybe it’s your presence that keeps him away. You didn’t waste too much time thinking about it. You’re just always happy he isn’t there.

Until this year.

No one even had the decency to shoot you a warning text. Hey, heads up, your ex is here, very unexpectedly.

You knock back the rest of your drink and head to make yourself a new one.

You normally attach yourself to Jimin at these, but he’s betrayed you this year by bringing an absolutely gorgeous date. They’re currently hogging the doorway with mistletoe above it. You make a mental note to remind him tomorrow that the PDA thing stops being cute after a while.

“Work’s good,” you say, finally answering the question. “Nothing new. How about you and Jin? All good?”

“Nothing new to report!” she grins. Then, the smile slips off her face a little as she glances at her phone. She notices you watching and grimaces. “Sorry,” she says, “I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just keeping an eye on the radar. The storm tonight is supposed to get nasty.”

“Hey! What’s the rule tonight?” a voice bellows from the living room. It’s Taehyung, perched against the back of one of his couches, and he points an accusatory finger at the girl you’re talking to.

She must know something you don’t, because while you’re baffled, she looks chagrined. “Don’t talk about the blizzard,” she recites by rote.

“Don’t talk about the blizzard,” he repeats. “Have another drink. It’s Christmas Eve, we welcome the snow.”

“You’re the only person I know who’s optimistic enough to try to throw a party on a night they’re calling for the storm of the century,” Seokjin tells him, making his way into the kitchen - probably to protect his girlfriend from Taehyung’s scoldings.

“They say that every time,” Taehyung scoffs, waving a hand. Then he’s up and moving, heading towards the dining room, where a spread of food is laid out.

There must be more people in there, you think, because the kitchen and the living room are definitely looking a little less crowded than they were an hour ago. Yoongi and Hoseok are on the couch, glasses in hand, talking quietly. The tv, mounted high on the wall, plays a classic Christmas film in black and white. You stop before the balcony doors, peering out into the night. The lamps that line the parking lot glow orange, and you can see in the lamplight that snow is falling steadily, and it’s starting to accumulate a little on the pavement below.

Jimin comes up beside you. His date’s lipstick is still smudged in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a hot mess,” you tell him affectionately.

“I think we’re gonna head out,” he tells you, ignoring the jab.

You shake your head, your earrings glittering in your reflection in the glass. “It’s not even nine,” you point out.

“The roads are going to get slick,” he tells you, suddenly serious. “You should think about getting an Uber before too long, too.”

“You’re going to break Taehyung’s heart,” you inform him. “I think he’s starting to catch on that people are leaving.”

“He should have rescheduled the party!” Jimin says hotly; he and Taehyung had argued about this passionately all week, ever since the forecast picked up on the storm coming through. “We could have done this yesterday, no blizzard, everyone would have stayed all night!”

Jimin’s date slinks over and presses her hand to his upper back. “Ready?” she asks, voice like silk.

“Bye,” you tell him sulkily. In the reflection, you watch him pause to tell Yoongi and Hoseok goodbye. They each stand, reaching in one at a time to give him a quick one-armed hug goodbye.

You keep watching the reflection in the glass as Hoseok takes advantage of already being up and heads for the dining room.

You knew it would happen at some point tonight - you’re alone in the living room with Yoongi. You’d just hoped it would happen after you were a lot drunker.

He meanders over. You glance at the drink in his hand - whiskey, neat. You could have guessed that on a gameshow and earned some money.

He’s dressed in all black - down to the chelsea boots. His hair is half-up in a bun that sits just behind the crown of his head. The rest brushes the tops of his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends.

He’d never had long hair like this before. It’s a crime how fucking good it looks.

Your gameplan tonight has been simple: avoid, avoid, avoid. But Yoongi stands close enough to reach out and touch you, sips at his whiskey, and murmurs, “It’s been a while.”

Five years. But who’s counting?

“It has,” you allow. You hate confrontation, you don’t want this to be a thing. You’re determined to be polite, play nice, and hopefully get out of here unscathed. “How have you been? Are you enjoying yourself?”

He wiggles his head. “Eh. You know I’m not into all that holly, jolly shit.”

“It’s a Christmas party,” you point out flatly. “Holly, jolly is kind of the point.”

He shrugs. “The point for me is just to see the guys, catch up with everyone. It’s been a long time since we were all together.”

He means we the guys, not we you and him. But your heart still speeds up at the word, the traitor.

You nod, turning away from him to look outside again. But your eyes stay on his reflection, both of you standing with your backs to the party. He looks down at his drink, swirls the amber liquid around the bottom of the glass.

“You always did hate the holidays,” you observe absently.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he says, so gently that it shocks you into turning to look at him.

“Do what?”

“Rehash everything,” he says with a shrug. “Talk about everything we remember. Talk at all.”

“If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t,” you snap, suddenly defensive and heated. “You came over here, not the other way around.” So much for polite and non-confrontational. But damn, he has some audacity.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, a little quickly, holding up his one empty hand like he’s surrendering. “I just meant… don’t feel like you have to, if you don’t want to. Don’t do it for my sake.”

Your temper settles, but you still feel a little… disgruntled, unsettled. “If I didn’t want to talk to you, I wouldn’t be,” you grumble.

He smiles at this. “That’s right. You never do anything you don’t want to do.”

Maybe that used to be the case.

The liquor takes over your mouth. “I didn’t want to break up,” you say pointedly, “so I guess that’s not true.”

He huffs out a single laugh, shaking his head at your audacity. “You always just say shit,” he murmurs. “To hell with the consequences.”

“What consequences?” you demand, turning to face him fully. “Are you going to dump me more? I fail to see how I could make things worse for us after five years of not speaking.”

He licks his lips, eyes on his glass again. That was the thing about you and Yoongi - he’s right, you did just say shit. And he always just handled it. He always heard you, processed it, and dealt with it productively. He never took the bait and got mad back, never yelled - even when you’d wished he’d yell.

“It’s because,” he’d told you, sometime around seven years ago, when you were together, “when you say absolutely wild shit like that, you always mean something else. And I just happen to be very good at translating you.”

Now, he meets your eyes again, having processed. Having translated. “What I’m hearing you say,” he says slowly, “is that you’re still mad at me.”

That’s all it takes to take the wind out of your sails - that’s always how it worked with you and Yoongi. You blustered and got worked up, and he defused you easily - just by meeting your gaze, just by assuring you that you were heard.

“I think I’m mad at our circumstances,” you correct quietly. “And I think I’ve had too many of these.” You eye the cocktail in your hand with narrowed, accusatory eyes.

He gives you the barest sliver of a smile. “Don’t blame the drinks,” he says, shaking his head. “You never could lie to me - it has nothing to do with alcohol.”

He’s right. For all your faults, for all the negatives you can take credit for, you always told him the truth.

Namjoon appears in the living room, a beer in hand, still in the bottle.

“I’m trying to decide which one of you needs to be rescued from the other,” he admits, looking between you, “and I honestly can’t tell.”

“Rescue him from me,” you say. “He’s been nice and I’ve been prickly.”

“You?” Namjoon says in mock surprise. “Prickly? No way.”

You flip him off, smiling.

Seokjin comes up behind Namjoon, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think we’re going,” he says, looking past you to the snow outside. “I don’t want to drive once the roads are slick.”

Namjoon sighs, following his gaze. “I was having fun,” he says sadly. “But I’m probably not too far behind you.”

“Nooo,” Taehyung whines from the dining room. “Everyone stop leaving! It’s just a little snow!”

Seokjin’s girlfriend finds him, joining your little circle, her phone still in her hand. “We’re supposed to have almost three inches by midnight,” she says in a whisper, clearly not wanting Taehyung to come after her. “We need to get moving.”

When Seokjin and his girlfriend leave, you float back towards the dining room. Namjoon and Yoongi stay behind, talking quietly. Probably, Namjoon is checking to make sure you weren’t too mean to him. Which… that’s fair.

The truth is, you aren’t mad at Yoongi. How could you be? When he ended things, he hadn’t been cruel, or unfair. His decision had been made logically. You understood exactly why he felt he needed to do it.

That’s where the hurt came from, you figured. You were always led by your emotions - quick to anger, but quick to laugh. Yoongi was always more even-tempered, logical. While you were packing up your life to move away from home for university, he’d laid out the reasons you shouldn’t stay together like they were a grocery list.

Like it didn’t hurt him at all.

None of his reasons were wrong. But would it have killed him to act like he cared? You’d been together three years - and you felt like they should count more, since they were such formative ones. Like dog years - each one should have counted for seven. It had broken your heart to let him walk away - shouldn’t he have felt something, too?

You’d dated plenty in college, a few of those relationships getting serious enough to last a few months. But at the end of the day, nobody compared to your first love. How could they? How could anyone?

No one understood you like Yoongi. No one could translate you like Yoongi. No one knew - or learned - how to settle you down like Yoongi. No one had that mental encyclopedia of useless knowledge like Yoongi. No one else had that perfect blend of dry and earnest like Yoongi. No one else fit to your body like a puzzle piece like Yoongi.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now. Yoongi had left, Yoongi had taken the decision right out of your hands and walked away with it. You weren’t mad at him, but you definitely resented that.

You’d had years to get over it, to forgive him, to come to terms with the fact that he was right about every single thing. But forgiveness and understanding are one thing. Letting go - of him, of loving him - is something else entirely, and you’re starting to think that even a lifetime of years won’t be enough for that.

That’s enough of that, you think, giving yourself a rough mental shake. You set down your drink glass and head for the bathroom, but it’s occupied. You lean against the wall outside, counting your breaths, trying to get yourself back into that holly, jolly headspace.

The door opens and Jungkook emerges, singing under his breath, “Pah-rum-pum-pum-pum!”

“Hi, JayKay,” you say, moving to slide past him into the bathroom.

“Oh, hey!” he says brightly. “I was just about to leave. You have a way to get home, right? It’s getting worse out there.”

“I was just going to Uber,” you tell him.

“Better do it soon,” he warns. “Soon the drivers aren’t going to want to be on the roads.”

“Good point,” you say, and wave a quick goodbye before shutting the bathroom door. You give yourself a stern look in the mirror.

Get it together, please, you think firmly. Seeing your ex - this ex, too, not just a casual one - for the first time in five years earns you a little wallowing, you think, and you fully intend to. At home. Later. Not here, in front of everyone.

Not here, in front of him.

Back in the kitchen, the party has really dwindled down to the last few people. Outside, snow falls as steadily as Taehyung’s guest list.

The peer pressure gets to you, and you pull out your phone and open a ride-share app. It takes a while before a driver connects, but you’re persistent. Once you have a driver, you watch the little image of their car start to head in your direction on the map.

From the dining room, you hear Yoongi make a tch of frustration. “No one is picking up for me,” he grumbles, seemingly to himself.

“Good,” Taehyung says seriously. “Don’t leave me.”

You go find your coat, slipping your arms into the sleeves and doing up each button. When you return to the dining room, Yoongi and Taehyung are the only ones left. Taehyung is fully, blatantly, sulking, his arms crossed on the table and his chin resting dejectedly atop them.

“Better luck next time, bud,” you tell him kindly.

Yoongi is still squinting at his phone screen, frowning.

You feel a twinge of concern, of the need to make it better for him the way you used to on a regular basis. “Still nothing?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t even see anyone on the map.”

You check your phone again - your car is just up the road. “I have one,” you tell him. “Join mine - we’ll just request the extra stop.”

Yoongi meets your eyes, holds your gaze for a minute. Then, he says, so seriously, “Are you sure?”

You know he means it. You know if you give any indication that you don’t want him in a car with you, he won’t push it.

“Yeah,” you say. “Of course. I’m not going to leave you stranded here.”

“Why not?” Taehyung whines, kicking his feet a little in protest.

“My car’s just here though,” you warn, eyes on your screen, both of you absolutely ignoring the host of the party.

“I’ll grab my coat,” Yoongi says, and heads for the hallway.

“Sorry, Taehyung,” you say sympathetically. “I know you’re sad.”

He refuses to look at you.

After giving over-the-top goodbye hugs to try and un-sulk the whiny baby, you and Yoongi head down the stairs and outside. You don’t look behind you to check that Yoongi is following. The car idles by the curb, and you double-check the license plate against the app.

In the backseat of the car, you slide over to make room for Yoongi. As soon as he closes his door and the car lurches into motion, the vibe changes. You sit stiffly, ramrod straight, eyes on the windshield. Yoongi’s not sitting quite as straight as you, but there’s a tightness to his shoulders, like he’s holding himself carefully so he doesn’t touch you by accident with the car’s inertia.

You had put in your parent’s address when you requested the ride, since that’s where you’re staying until New Years’ Day. You and Yoongi sit in blasting, blaring silence as the car crosses the middle of the town you’d both grown up in, that you’d run around in together as teenagers in love. But, past town, towards the quiet neighborhood where your parents’ house is, the car slows to a stop.

“I can’t go through this way, Miss,” your driver says, peering at you through the rearview mirror. “There’s a powerline down up there.”

“Oh shit,” you say, which is probably not very polite of you. You lean forward to look at the same time Yoongi does, your shoulders bumping. You both recoil quickly.

“I think you can get to the development from the other side,” you muse, “but we’d have to backtrack and go around the lake on the other side…”

“Let’s just go to my place,” Yoongi interjects. “The roads are getting worse, and it’s close.”

You frown. Yoongi’s parents’ house - which you’d been to plenty of times as a younger person - is on the other side of town. Not close by your standards, but you aren’t here to argue.

Or maybe you are.

“I don’t know, Yoongi,” you say, uncertainty creeping into your voice. “How will I get home from there?”

“You might have to stay,” he admits, leaning down to better look at the road through the front windshield. The driver sits, watching you debate, waiting for a directive.

You give Yoongi a silent look like, okay, and so you see my problem?

He scoffs at you. “It’s fine. We can handle one night.”

You want to ask, how sure are you about that? Instead, you start to tell the driver Yoongi’s parents’ address.

“Wait,” Yoongi says, putting a hand gently on your arm to stop you. You both freeze, looking at the point of contact. Yoongi shakes himself out of it first, and tells the driver a different address.

The car shifts back into drive and you look at Yoongi quizzically.

“Did your family move?” you ask finally.

Here’s the thing. You know Yoongi, you get Yoongi; five years apart hasn’t changed that at all. So when he licks his lips, shifts his gaze to his feet, and starts rubbing the back of his neck, you know it’s guilt.

“Yoongi?” you prod, suspicious.

He mumbles something, still not looking at you.

“What?” you snap. “You what?”

“I sort of moved back last month…” he repeats to the floor.

“You live here?” you repeat, dumbfounded. “You live in town again?”

“Currently, yeah,” he says, and there’s something in that currently that you’d really like to examine, but you’re still fucking floored.

Yoongi had gone to university in the city - hours away. The distance thing was reasons one through four of his Why We Need to Break Up list. It had made sense, logistically. It made sense when you went abroad for university, and he stayed here. It made sense when you returned and got an internship and then a full-time job in a different city, hours in the opposite direction. It made sense when you managed to go five entire years without being in the same place.

But now he was here. Reasons one through four, moot.

Reasons five to whatever largely revolved around being young and needing to experience the world and figure out what you want in life, that kind of shit. Now it’s five years later and you’ve both experienced plenty of bullshit.

Reasons five through whatever, moot.

You wonder, wordlessly, heart pounding again, if Yoongi knows or cares that every reason he gave you to validate walking away no longer applies.

“You live here,” you repeat. You’re stuck on it, you can’t move on. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” he says guiltily. “I know you didn’t. I… was honestly fighting with myself about if I should reach out or not. I guess I ultimately decided not… since you’re in the city, and you have your whole life and everything…”

What life? You wonder.

The car pulls into a small, understated neighborhood. You’ve been here before; your chemistry partner from tenth grade lived in this development, you’d come to do homework more than once.

It’s always so weird to come back to this town, where everywhere you go has memories, secondary definitions. It’s not just a library, it’s the library where Yoongi had kissed you for the first time. It’s not just a park, it’s the park where you’d had your first fight, where you’d screamed at him in front of God and the ducks and all the moms pushing strollers. It’s not just a diner, it’s the diner where Yoongi had told you that it made no sense to try and stay together from different time zones.

Everything came back to him. It always had. It always does. In a lot of ways, you felt like you were fated to be tied to him this way - and you usually didn’t believe in shit like that.

You always break your own rules for him.

The place is small, and not very Yoongi-ish, but you keep your thoughts to yourself as Yoongi slides out of the car and waits for you.

“Get home safe,” you tell the driver before closing the door. Yoongi’s got his house keys in his hand, and he leads you up the walkway. It’s slick, and you try to step only in the footprints he leaves in the inch of snow coating the ground.

Inside, the light over the sink illuminates a small, mostly empty kitchen. That’s not very Yoongi-ish either, you think. You remember him cooking all the time - appliances everywhere, cutting boards hanging, pots and pans stored on hooks.

He passes the kitchen and enters what looks like the living room, reaching to click on a few dim lamps. They cast a yellow glow to the room.

You set down your purse and fold your coat up on top of it. Yoongi waits for you in the living room, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the window, watching the snow. His jawline from the side nearly takes your breath away. He’s so damn beautiful it makes you sick.

And he’s back, Yoongi is back.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, finally looking at you.

“Whatever you’re having would be great,” you tell him. You settle gingerly on one end of the couch as he busies himself in the kitchen. You shoot your parents a quick text that the roads were too bad and you weren’t going to make it back to their place so they wouldn’t worry.

Yoongi returns with two glasses of red wine. He hands you one wordlessly and sits opposite you on the couch.

“So,” you say. The awkward, hyper-polite vibe from the car is back. Like you’re strangers. Like you didn’t know each other inside and out, once. “You’ve been here a month?”

“Just shy of it,” Yoongi corrects politely. “I signed a two month lease, so… I’ve got a few weeks to figure out my next move.”

“You don’t think you’ll stay?” you ask, then sip at the wine. It’s good - of course it’s good, he’s got great taste. You love and hate that about him.

He shrugs, drinks from his own glass. “Doubt it.”

He doesn’t give you any more information than that - why he’s back, what’s next for him, why he’s here for such a short time.

You don’t press it. He’ll tell you if he wants to.

Instead, you both drink in silence. Outside, the snow seems to redouble its efforts, the wind picking up until it seems to be snowing sideways for minutes at a time before calming into a normal downward fall again.

“I think we made the right choice,” Yoongi murmurs, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking about the weather and Taehyung’s party, not about your past.

“Mhm,” you nod, as you come back into the present. That’s a problem you have - you’re always looking back. “Imagine if we were just leaving now? What a mess. Thanks for taking me in, I guess.”

“You guess,” he repeats, rolling his eyes, but there’s no ire in it.

You drink in silence a little longer, and then Yoongi rises with a sigh. “I’ll go put clean sheets on the bed,” he says, sort of absently, like he’s both talking to you and also just thinking out loud. “And then I’ll show you how to work the tv in there if you –”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed, Yoongi,” you tell him flatly.

He balks. “I didn’t mean with me, I meant by yourself!”

“No, I know that,” you reassure him. “But I’m not letting you sleep on your own couch because of me. I’ll sleep out here. It’s fine.”

“Absolutely not,” he says, shaking his head vehemently. That long hair swishes. “You’re a guest. I’m not putting you on the couch.”

“Yoongi,” you say sternly. “If I know you’re out here on the couch and I’m in there with your whole friggin bed, I will simply not sleep because I will feel too guilty about it! And I would like to sleep. So, please, put your chivalry and hospitality aside, and let me sleep. Out here.”

He considers this, because he knows you, and he knows you’re telling the truth. “Fine,” he concedes, and disappears into what must be his bedroom.

When he returns, he’s carrying a stack of what looks like linens. He sets down the pile and you spy blankets and pillows. He pushes the pillows aside gently and picks up something else, turning to hold it out to you, an offering.

It’s gym shorts and a large tshirt, and you reach to take them without thinking. Once they’re in your hand, they feel suddenly heavy with meaning. You used to wear his clothes all the time - you might have one or two of his hoodies in the back of your closet at home because you love them and don’t want to get rid of them, even though you feel too weird to actually wear them. You’re not sure how you feel about wearing his clothes again, now that it means nothing. The alternatives are pretty undesirable, though, so you’ll have to grin and bear it.

“There’s a half-bath on the other side, through the kitchen,” he says, nodding towards the bathroom in question. “So you don’t have to feel weird walking through my room to the full bath if you don’t want to. Though... do you need to shower? I can get you towels and stuff –”

“Maybe in the morning?” you say, eyeing the clock on the wall. “Just… could I borrow face-soap? And toothpaste?”

You’ll have to make do without your make-up remover and an actual toothbrush. Finger-brushing it is.

When you emerge from the bathroom, teeth freshly finger-brushed, wearing Yoongi’s clothes, he’s standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing out the wine glasses you’d used.

You brush past him silently, and start setting up the couch how you want it. You hear the sink turn off, the click of the lightswitch as he shuts off the lights behind him. He comes back through the room and pauses in his doorway.

“Do you need anything?” he asks.

“No,” you say, feeling small in his baggy shirt, feeling small in the face of all the feelings you’re swimming in right now. “I’m all good.”

He looks at you for a long minute, searching. “Okay,” he says, finally. “Sleep well.”

He turns into his room, and you watch his skinny wrist turn as he reaches to shut the door.

“Yoongi,” you say, the word out of your mouth before you really know what will follow it. He pauses, peeks his head back into view, raises an eyebrow at you. “Thanks,” you say, meekly.

He nods, silent, then reaches to close his door, gently and effectively shutting you out.

You get comfortable on the couch, bunching the blanket up around your head how you like it. It takes almost no time at all to fall asleep, and when you do, you don’t dream.

You’re awakened sometime later by a noise, and you sit up, your brain scrambling to catch up to the present and figure out where you are.

A couch, it processes. It comes back to you a little at a time. Yoongi’s couch. Yoongi’s house. Yoongi’s house in town.

The noise that woke you must have been his bedroom door opening, because as you slowly get your bearings, you become aware of him staring at you from his doorway.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says apologetically, then moves across the room towards the kitchen. “I just needed water.” Then, from the kitchen, as an afterthought, he asks, “Do you want one?”

“Please,” you say immediately, mentally cataloging all the effects of dehydration you can feel. Cottony mouth, ringing ears, the tingling beginnings of a headache…

He returns to the living room and stops near the couch. You stretch to turn on one of the dim lamps, casting a quiet yellow on the room. He stands there in too-big pajamas and holds out a water bottle silently.

It’s definitely still the middle of the night. You can’t have slept more than a few hours. Everything feels different, somehow. It was so awkward before; you’d felt the need to be cautious and hyper-polite. Now everything feels blurred, fuzzy with sleep, softer. You’re sitting up, the blanket you’d been sleeping under still over your lap. You reach over and lift the other side, holding it up like a question.

Yoongi pads over and sits on the far side of the couch, but he curls his legs up and slips his bare feet under the blanket. You let it fall, covering him from the shin down.

He taps on his phone and grimaces at the time. “Hey,” he says, a little wry, “Merry Christmas.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”

He taps at his screen again and a speaker near his tv comes to life, playing what has to be a Coffee Shop Christmas playlist, pre-curated. You lean your head against the back of the couch, listening to the strum of acoustic guitar and the gentle snare of a drum meander through a mellow, lethargic version of It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.

“Christmas music, huh?” you tease, eyes closed. “That’s very holly, jolly of you.”

“I don’t hate Christmas,” he protests. “I’m not, like, a Grinch. It’s just… another day. So is tomorrow. Why all the fuss?”

You bump his foot with your knee beneath the blanket. “Scrooge.”

Ignoring your teasing, he looks sideways at you, something baleful on his face. “Y/N? I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

You’re surprised into silence, looking back at him across the couch. “What? What for?”

He grimaces, like the answer is too big, like he’s got an annotated list of every fault he’s mentally cataloged. “For all of it, I guess.”

You’re not letting him off the hook; this is too important to skirt around. “What are you sorry for, Yoongi?” you ask seriously.

He laughs once, quietly, incredulously, like he can’t believe you. “You really want to go there?”

“You know I do.”

He thinks before he speaks - one of your favorite things about him. “Because for the last five years, I hated myself for leaving you behind. And I wondered every day if you hated me for it, too.”

You sit in silence, feeling frozen. Yoongi lets you - Yoongi waits. Is he admitting regret? Does that mean he’d do it differently, given the chance?

Because here you are - being given the chance, in a way.

“I was never mad at you for going,” you tell him, because you know he needs to know. Yoongi doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, which means he really did wonder if you hated him. You don’t owe him much, but you figure you owe him this truth. Then you admit, “But I was mad at myself for… letting you. Did you… I mean, should I have argued? When you left?”

You’d always wondered. What would have happened if you’d fought just a little harder for him to stay?

He scoots a little closer, tugging the blanket closer to his knees, thinking about your question. “I think part of me had hoped you would… but it wouldn’t have changed my mind,” he tells you honestly. “Just would’ve made it hurt more. The way things happened, I could lie and tell myself you were fine with letting me go.”

You exhale on a note of indignation. “Fine? That was you. You were so… okay with walking away.”

He shakes his head. He must have taken the bun out when he went to bed, and his hair swishes around his shoulders, loose and beautiful. “I wasn’t okay. I didn’t go a single day and not wonder… how you were. I didn’t go a single day sure that I made the right choice.”

You feel, weirdly, kind of pissed. “What am I supposed to do with that, Yoongi? Seriously?”

He opens his mouth to answer this rhetorical question, but you don’t let him. The words pour out of you, unleashed after five years of being held back.

“This is just… unfair. Because normally, in the movies, when you get this moment - the post-mortem - with someone from your past… they always ask why, right? Why’d you leave? But I don’t need to ask why - I know the why, I understood why. I want to know… I want to know if you regret it. If you’d take it back.”

“That’s two different questions,” he says solemnly, “with two different answers.”

You cut your eyes at him. It’s the middle of the night and your brain is mostly mush. You need him to just be forthcoming, just say things plainly.

He knows.

“Of course I regret it,” he whispers finally, as if the words hold too much weight to utter any louder. “I regretted it while I was still saying it. I hated being away from you, I hated not talking to you, I hated not knowing how you were or what you were doing or if you… still cared about me at all.” He pauses, inhales slowly, rubs a hand down his tired face, then exhales with a whoosh. “But would I take it back? I don’t know.”

You exhale, eyeing the ceiling. Who’s the one just saying shit now? God. “You can’t just say things like that, Yoongi,” you tell him, eyes trained on the shitty, popcorn ceiling above you.

He says your name, still so soft, so quiet.

“What?”

“Don’t cry.”

It’s so stupid. You hadn’t cried then, not in front of him. You wipe hastily under your eyes. “Sorry,” you say hastily, trying to save face. “It’s the lack of sleep.”

“I’m not sure I would take it back,” he repeats carefully, and you realize he hadn’t been done before - you’d interrupted his thought, “because when I left… I knew the whole time that it didn’t make anything better. But if I hadn’t… I think I’d still be wondering if I should, if we’d be better apart. I wouldn’t know, so the question would still be hanging over me.”

You think he’s saying something without saying it, but it’s like four in the morning and you just aren’t sure.

“But now?” you prod.

He shrugs, like it’s so simple. “Now I know the answer.”

You want to shake him. You’ve never had a conversation go in circles like this in your life, and you need to get to the center of it. “Yoongi,” you say, your voice tight like a warning.

He knows.

He always knows. He cuts to the chase. “I have a job lined up in the city.”

You almost drop your water bottle. “My city?”

“Your city.”

“Yoongi,” you say again, pleading. “Just say what you mean.” Please.

He smiles your favorite of his smiles - only one half of his mouth lifts at first, cocky, until it spreads the rest of the way and shows his gums in all their glory. “Just thinking about that whole list of reasons we shouldn’t be together… null and void now, don’t you think?”

You feel like you can’t breathe. You’ve both been circling it like predators, and now you’re closing in.

“So what does that mean? For you?” Do you dare to ask it? You do. “For us?”

Someone else, you think, would probably have asked you, what do you want it to mean?

But it’s Yoongi - and Yoongi knows the answer already.

He’s pushing the blanket off of his legs - and yours - and coming to hover over you. Your body responds, laying back against the pillow you’d been sleeping on, making room for him like it remembers exactly how you fit. Your fingers find his jaw like they’re magnetically drawn, your thumb sliding against his cheek.

His hair falls around your faces like a curtain, blocking out the dim lamplight, as his mouth finds yours.

Kissing him again is everything. It’s absolutely everything. He’s home, he’s wilderness, he’s calm, he’s the whole damn storm, he’s undoing every seam you have, he’s stitching you back together, he’s beautiful beautiful beautiful.

His lips are soft but sure against yours, his jaw moving under the press of your fingers. You feel like you’re flying, falling, maybe both, as your eyelids flutter. He’s bracing himself with his hands on either side of you, holding himself over you. You were resting your free hand against his side, his ribs like piano keys beneath your palm, and you find yourself bunching his shirt into your fist, trying to pull yourself up, closer, closer.

You have to will yourself not to babble against his mouth, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you. You could say it six hundred times and it still wouldn’t get it all out of you. You pour it into the kiss instead, straining up to meet him, beating words away from your mouth as you toy with his bottom lip.

He drops his lower body carefully, pinning your hips beneath his own, shifting to hold himself up on elbows instead of hands. The weight of him is welcome; something needs to keep you tethered to this planet.

He licks into your mouth, tongue sliding against yours, and you inhale sharply against his mouth.

“Yoongi,” you murmur against his lips, and he turns his head to kiss your palm where it’s been resting against his face. There’s something so tender about it that tears spring to your eyes, and you blink them away quickly.

Then he’s leaning down to capture your mouth again, humming a low, happy note against you. You go for the hem of his shirt, pulling until it gets tangled against his armpits. He sits back on his haunches, helping you pull it over his head and tossing it somewhere behind you. Your eyes trace him, over and over, trying to remember every shade and every line, trying to find every difference from five years ago. He’s beautiful, flushing dark across the chest, eyes positively predatory in their focus on you.

“You, too,” he says, sounding a little breathless, and you scoot back and sit up. He goes for your hem before you can, tugging it up and over your head. The cold air assaults you and you shiver. Yoongi makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl in appreciation, lowering himself over you again. His kiss is insistent this time, one hand coming up to cup a breast, fingers deftly rolling your nipple, sending electricity skittering down your spine. You whine, deep in your throat, and you feel his lips quirk into a smile.

“Would you kick my ass if I said ‘I’ve missed your tits’ right now?” he asks, chest quaking as he tries to rein in laughter.

“Yes,” you grumble, reaching to weave your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. You tug him back so you can kiss him again, and he lets out a quiet, breathy moan as you do.

“Okay,” he says, in between kisses, “but I did.” Then he puts his money where his mouth is - or maybe vice-versa - to prove it, lowering his head and taking the other nipple in his mouth, flicking it lightly with his tongue. Your whole body reacts, feet stretching, back arching to push against his body, fingers tightening in his hair as you moan out loud. Each little motion of his mouth ignites sparks that reach every part of you - the pit of your stomach, the base of your spine, clear down to your toes.

It’s honestly embarrassing how turned on you get as he continues, working one side until you’re writhing beneath him, thighs rubbing together desperately, then switching to continue his onslaught on the other side.

“Yoongi,” you gasp, and some absent part of your brain is aware that his name is the only coherent word you’ve said in a while. “Please, you’re torturing me.”

He releases you with a wet pop, grinning up at you deviously. “So pretty when you beg like that,” he remarks, like he’s observing the weather - which is still a fucking blizzard, by the way. Then he’s coming up to kiss you again, deep and slow this time. His hand slides along your bare stomach, around and under your back, and you arch your back partly to make room for his arm underneath you, and partly because you can’t not, as his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Please, what?” he murmurs, lips close to your neck, his fingers tracing the edge of the shorts you’re wearing - his shorts. “What do you want?”

“Anything - whatever you’ll give me,” you manage. All you can focus on is his fingers, their circular path along your lower stomach, toying with your waistband.

It must be the right answer, because he slips his hand into your shorts, fingers pressing along your slit, your underwear clinging to you already. He slides his fingers along the slickened fabric, eyes on your face, listening to the tiny moans that escape when you exhale.

He shifts to his side, between you and the back of the couch, and you loop an arm around his neck - half to hold yourself up on the couch, and half because you need to be holding him. You can feel how hard he is now, as his body presses against your legs. He distracts you with a kiss, and slips your panties aside, wasting no time in sheathing his middle finger up to the last knuckle.

You hiss his name, your head lolling back against the couch in pleasure, your neck bared to him. He gives it a quick nip and then a kiss as he adds a second finger, pumping in and out of you slowly. You groan, the sound rumbling from your chest. You could let him do this all night if you had the patience - just this simple act feels so good you think you might come undone.

And if you remember anything about sex with Yoongi, he’s just getting started.

He slips his fingers out of you and brings them up to your clit, circling once, then twice, before going back to where he started, the pad of his middle finger circling your entrance, careful to stay just outside.

Your whole body turns to jelly, everything quivering from head to toe at the sensation. You grip the couch with both hands, digging your fingers in. “Ohhh my god,” you manage, something accusatory in your tone, like you’re asking him how the fuck are you doing that?

He smiles against you, middle finger still running in lazy circles through the wetness collecting there. “That’s right, I know what you like,” he murmurs, smug, his lips tickling your neck, before plunging both fingers back into your heat without warning. He repeats the cycle - in, out, up, down, around, around, in again - until you’re dizzy from it, your fingers clutching the fabric of the couch so hard that you’re sure you’ll rip it.

You have one single moment of clarity that sends you reaching down to where you can feel him hot and hard against your leg, but he shifts away, tutting.

“You first,” he says. “I want to see you make that face you make. It’s been literal years.”

“Oh my god,” you say, feeling yourself flush. “Yoongi! Seriously?”

He laughs, shoulders shaking. “What? I love to watch you lose your shit. What a fucking ego boost.” He punctuates these words with a quick change of wrist direction, suddenly pistoning against your front wall in a way that has your comeback melting right out of your brain.

He’d had you close before, and the sudden switch-up does the trick - you feel everything tighten from your shoulders to your toes, your eyes screwing shut. Yoongi shifts his weight to hold your leg in place so you can’t try to close them on him and redoubles his efforts, humming in pleasure as you squeeze around his fingers like a vice.

You let out a series of wordless cries as the pleasure builds to the point you want to shy away from it, and then Yoongi presses his thumb to your clit just so and you’re spiraling over the edge, your ears filled with a buzzing white noise, your toes curling, your desperate hands leaving the couch and clutching Yoongi instead, trusting him to guide you to the other side.

When you come down, heart hammering in your chest, you bat his hand away, breaths heaving.

“Take those off,” you pant, tugging on the bit of his pants you can reach, and shimmying your own bottoms the rest of the way off and dumping them onto the floor.

“Bossy,” Yoongi remarks, smirking sideways at you as he obeys.

You resituate yourself against the arm of the couch as he comes to kneel near your feet, stroking himself languidly. You both freeze with the same thought at the same time.

“Do I…” he says hesitantly, “do you want me to wear -?”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, mind racing for an answer. You’re tempted to just tell him it’s fine, because surely having a how many people have you been with in the five years since we broke up conversation will absolutely kill the mood right now. But that’s not really safe.

“Maybe you’d better?” you venture. “Have you -? I mean, we don’t need to talk about this right now. But I haven’t been with anyone without… you know.”

“Same here, and I got tested after… the last one. Just in case,” he admits, eyes on yours, and the moment feels heavy. Do you trust Yoongi to tell you the truth?

Of course you do.

“I’m okay if you’re okay,” you tell him. “No pressure.”

“You’re still on -?” he checks, and you nod.

“In that case,” he says, and leans over you to kiss you again. You can feel him, rubbing along the messy slickness, and it occurs to you that you haven’t even touched him yet.

You whine, twisting your shoulders to try and reach him with a hand, but he’s too impatient, lining himself up and starting to sink into you. You groan at the stretch - it’s been a while since your last fling - but the sound that tears through Yoongi’s throat is more like a growl, guttural and animalistic.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growls through gritted teeth, as he slowly rocks into you until he bottoms out, his hips tight against yours.

He’s everywhere - caging you in, hovering above you, holding you down, filling you up. He’s everywhere, and he feels both so familiar it makes you want to cry again, and also - somehow - brand-fucking-new, like you’ve never felt him before.

You can feel every ridge of him, every twitch, as he sets a slow but even pace, letting you adjust.

“God,” you gasp when he hits a spot just right. His head had been hanging above you, his eyes watching the place where he disappeared inside you, all that long hair loose, but he smirks up at you at this.

“Good,” he coos, and picks up the pace, hips smacking yours, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin on skin, his grunts and your whines.

You’re gasping a little at each stroke, that tight feeling bubbling at the pit of your stomach growing stronger with each thrust. “God,” you growl, fingertips pressing into his shoulder blade as you hang on for dear life. “Yoongi, fuck!”

He slows on purpose, straightening up, forcing you to release your hold on his back. He grins at you, that shit-eating, one-sided grin, and then grabs your ankles, maneuvering them both to rest against his right shoulder. He leans forward against your legs and hammers into you, breathing hard, and you swear to god you see stars for a second.

“Ohmygod, yes, there,” you gasp, hands going to the backs of your own thighs to help alleviate the stretch. You need to start doing yoga or something.

The build-up is slower this time, the feeling pulsing through you in waves that strengthen and ebb again. Yoongi can tell when it’s real by the change in your voice - wordless whines rising in pitch, by the arch of your back, by the way you clamp around him so hard that he almost loses it right there.

“Yeah?” he asks, the word more like a gasp for air. “Close?”

“Please,” you beg, the sensation of pure light racing up your legs to your toes, the pulsing starting slow and determined in your core.

“I’ve got you,” he promises, brows furrowed with concentration as he works to keep a steady pace. He grips one of your ankles and switches it to his other shoulder, creating space to reach down and rub gentle figure-eights around your clit.

The wave takes you over, and there’s a long moment where you’re completely devoid of your senses - no sight, no sound, nothing but how tight tight tight everything has gone, too tight to even breathe - and then it breaks and you can hear yourself wailing, eyes shut against the onslaught of sensations. You clench around Yoongi hard, the aftershocks rolling through you, so hard that he hisses and drops his forehead to yours, his pace slowing significantly as he fucks you through it.

You go boneless as it leaves you, and Yoongi pushes all the way inside you and stills, pressing his lips to your temple.

“You good?” he murmurs, so sweet for someone who just had you experiencing the multiverse.

“Mhm,” you manage to respond, so spent and tired that you can barely form the word.

“C’mere,” he grunts, slipping out of you, and he grips the back of your neck, hauling you upright and falling backwards in the same motion, pulling you over top of him. You loop your arms around his neck, feeling floaty, and he wraps his around your middle. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, his breath loud next to your ear.

“Can you keep going?” he checks. “I know you’re tired. I’m almost there, I promise.”

“M’good,” you assure him against his collarbone, and he gives you one quick squeeze before reaching down to adjust himself. He pushes in and you cry out, the sound muffled as you press your face into him. You’re so sensitive now, the sensation is entirely different.

“You can take it,” he whispers, sliding a hand down your spine. Then, with a grunt of “shit,” he grabs you and jackhammers up into you, his fingers furrowing into the meat of your ass, so tight you think you’ll have five little bruises on each side when this is over.

You feel so close to him - your cheek presses up against his, your arms wrapped tight around him, his hands securing you in place, his heart beating wildly against yours where your chests press together.

You gasp for breath into the crook of his neck, holding on for dear life, just trying to take what he gives you. You can hear his breathing change as he gets close, his pace quickening but his thrusts starting to come less evenly, his grip on your ass tightening just a bit further as he pulls your hips down to meet his every few thrusts.

“Is inside okay?” he asks, the words sounding like they’re torn from him.

“Yes,” you tell him, but it comes out more like a moan.

“God,” he grunts in response to this, and the word tears, ending on a strangled moan as he empties himself deep inside you.

You lay there, gasping for breath, for a long minute. Then Yoongi gives you an affectionate pat on the ass, indicating that it’s safe to move.

“Go get in the shower,” he suggests. “I’ll grab you a towel and meet you in there.”

“I don’t know if I can get there,” you say, joking, but your legs feel like jelly. You grab your phone and make your way, wobbly, through the living room and into his bedroom.

You hadn’t come in here before. It’s clean, but sparse. It’s devoid of anything that makes it feel homey. It’s devoid of anything that makes it feel like Yoongi.

You keep going, padding through his room and towards the attached bathroom, fumbling for the lightswitch. You place your phone next to the sink and fiddle with the shower’s knobs until you get a steady stream of hot water going.

It feels heavenly to step under the hot water, your aching muscles relaxing in the steam. But it feels even better when Yoongi wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” you giggle. You might still be riding a little bit of a post-orgasm high.

You both rinse off in silence, and then Yoongi places his hand on the knob, looking at you to make sure you’re ready to get out. You nod, but he hesitates.

“Will you sleep with me?” he asks, a little unsure, leagues different from the cocky man you’d been tangled up with mere minutes before. “Don’t go back to the couch.”

You give him a soft smile, and he turns off the water, reaching for the towels hanging just outside.

“Of course I will,” you tell him before wrapping yourself up in the soft, gray terry-cloth.

You crawl into his bed once you’re dry, and he joins you after making a quick pass through the living room to turn the lights back off and gather up the clothes you’d both tossed around. When he clicks off his bedside lamp and rolls to face you, you feel a fluttering of nerves in your stomach.

You’re not sure where you go from here.

You lay facing each other in the darkness; it’s just too dark to really see much, but you can tell he’s looking at you.

You’re laying there, letting your thoughts spool around you, the what-if’s and what-now’s laying themselves out in your mind, when you realize you’ve reached out without meaning to, your fingers tangling in his long hair, rolling strands between them. You keep playing with it, cautiously, practically holding your breath, waiting to see if he objects.

Instead, you feel him relax under your hand, letting out a long breath. “That feels nice,” he admits, voice breathy with almost-sleep and barely audible.

You fall asleep without any answers, with your fingers curled up in Yoongi’s hair.

You wake up to a warm body behind you, not quite touching. You shift your cold toes a little closer to the warmth you find, smiling when you hear him whine about it. The light outside is white, that abnormal shade of light that comes from sunlight bouncing off of snow and ice. You’re about to close your eyes again when you realize that the warm body behind you isn’t sleeping, because you can hear the incriminating clicking and clacking of a keyboard.

“Are you seriously working right now?” you ask him, rolling a little to look at him over your shoulder. He peers back at you guiltily, his glasses low on his nose, fingers frozen in the air above the keys.

“I just wanted to answer a few -”

“It’s Christmas morning!” you scold.

“I’m aware of that,” he answers dryly.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Turn it off, Yoongi. It’s Christmas and you are in bed with someone. My God.”

He shoots you a defensive look, but finishes whatever he was doing and clicks the laptop closed, leaning over to place it on his nightstand.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, a little fondly, sitting up a little next to him.

“Neither have you,” he says pointedly. It’s less fond when he says it.

You consider this. “You want to know something stupid?” you ask. Yoongi doesn’t answer out loud, just meets your eyes and waits. “You’re right. I haven’t changed. I think… I think I’ve been afraid to.”

He turns to face you, sensing how serious you are about this. “What do you mean?” he presses.

You stop to think, the way you learned to after spending years watching him, knowing he did this better than you. “I guess… some little part of me always wondered what would happen if we crossed paths again. If I changed too much… what if I stopped being someone you’d want? What if I became someone so different that your heart didn’t know mine anymore?”

It sounds so corny coming out of your mouth, but the truth behind it is so heavy you can’t hold it up anymore. It was a fear you’d secretly harbored for half a decade - what if fate put Yoongi in your life again, and he still didn’t want you?

And Yoongi does what he’s always done - hears you, understands you, answers you in your own language.

“Impossible,” he says softly, leaning closer to you, eyes combing your face. His voice is like a layer of snow, smooth and clear, full of something unnamable. Or maybe you don’t want to name it. You turn your head, as if that will get you further away. “That’s impossible. My heart will always know yours.”

You look at your hands, feeling a little choked up. Your heart stutters and jumps in your chest. The question you’re holding back churns in a little ball behind your ribs.

“Hey,” he says, softly but intently. You manage to look up at him. “Let’s make breakfast?” He says it like a question.

“Yeah,” you say, able to speak again. “That sounds good.”

Yoongi lends you sweatpants, since it’s too chilly to roam around the house in basketball shorts, and busies himself in the kitchen while you get changed. When you finally join him, he’s plated something for each of you, and he pushes a glass of iced coffee towards you.

You can’t help but smile. “You remember,” you accuse, and he avoids your eyes, cheeks flushing.

“You get a girl ninety-thousand iced coffees, it stays with you,” he defends.

“Ninety-thousand,” you scoff, but you’re pleased. As you eat, you look out the kitchen window. It’s bright outside, but it’s still snowing - tiny, wispy flakes floating leisurely down to join you. The road clearly hasn’t been plowed yet; the snow outside is untouched, unbothered, a perfect sheet of white. You can’t even tell where the road is, except for the mailbox poking up out of the feet of snow on the ground already.

Yoongi follows your gaze. “Looks like you’re trapped here for a while,” he observes.

“A shame,” you deadpan, and he kicks at you playfully beneath the table.

“Well,” he says, thinking out loud, “since you won’t let me get any work done… do you want to put on a movie?”

“A Christmas movie?” you ask, perking up.

He rolls his eyes, but he’s fighting a little smile. “I guess that’d make sense,” he agrees.

He leads you back to the couch, which you eye sideways, remembering clearly what this couch witnessed about three hours ago. Yoongi seems unphased, slouching sideways against some pillows and looking at you expectantly. You join him gingerly, leaning against him, and he drapes a blanket over your legs.

“Pick something,” he asks, passing you the remote - another old Yoongi trick that you remember well.

You take the offered remote, clicking through the holiday options for something that you don’t think will make Yoongi gag. As you scroll, brows furrowed in concentration, he clears his throat beside you.

“So, uh,” he says, and you stop scrolling, because he sounds nervous. “Next weekend I’m supposed to go look at some apartments. Do you… would you want to keep me company?”

You look at him, eyes wide, the remote forgotten in your hand, still aloft and pointed at the tv.

“Why?” you whisper once you find your voice.

He shrugs, wets his lips. “You know the city well,” he says. “You can offer your brilliant opinions - tell me if the neighborhood’s okay… if there’s good take-away… where the transit stops are, that kind of shit.”

“Hm,” you say, a little tightly.

He shoots you a sheepish grin. “I’ll take you to dinner after?”

You give him a look. “Say what you mean, Yoongi.”

He purses his lips a little, disgruntled at being called out. Then, busted, he sighs and tries again. “Can I take you to dinner next weekend? Preferably in the city, and preferably after you help me make some choices about my living situation?”

You grin, unable to hold it back. “Yeah,” you say, trying hard to fight back the smile, to play it even a little bit cool. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” Trying to save your dignity, you turn back to the tv and go back to scrolling until you find a movie that seems like it’s not too over-the-top.

Yoongi reaches an arm around your shoulders, and this time you settle against him comfortably. You can feel him breathing beneath you, can smell that Yoongi smell - clean and alluring, can hear the shouts of some neighborhood kids running around outside. From the tv, tinkling bells and happy strings play a medley of Christmas songs as the opening credits run.

Part of you is already thinking about when the roads are plowed and you have to go home, shower off the scent of him, update your best friend about all of this, miss Yoongi in a much more real way than you’ve had to in about three years. But at least you have the promise that you’ll see him again next weekend. You close your eyes, content, happy to just be right now.

Yoongi feels it too, obviously. He gives your shoulders a squeeze, looks down at you fondly, and murmurs, “You know what? All this holly, jolly shit isn’t so bad.”

“God bless us, every one,” you deadpan. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

He grins at you, gums showing, and you smile back before leaning your head against his chest as on the TV a little girl watches out her window for signs of Santa.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!! My full masterlist can be found here :)

3K notes · View notes

wintersera · 9 months

Text

special gift || g!p karina x f!reader

notes: merry christmas!! hope y’all enjoy this smutfic… also “short fic” my ass i got carried away again 😭

cw: g!p karina, top!karina, bottom!reader, somnophilia, established relationship

wc: 1.7k

having a girlfriend who was one of the top idols in the industry was seriously a pain in the ass. sure you were lucky with dating THE karina from hit south korean girl group aespa, but fuck, you hated whenever jimin was basically never at home. during comebacks she was always booked and busy, and unfortunately this year, her schedules were packed tightly; solo gigs, advertisements, photoshoots on top of show after show, variety show shoots, etc.

you had cursed lee-fuckass-sooman for being such a shitty ceo and never letting his idols take a short break, even for christmas. all that cursing and manifesting towards that man in hopes that he would do something pulled through, because guess what, you woke up to the sound of your phone going off, a text message from your beloved girlfriend.

you honestly were tired as fuck, you knocked out as soon as she said ‘wait for me’, but with all the anticipation and adrenaline of seeing your girlfriend for the first time, in what? a few months, you were too excited to sleep any longer than an hour.

up at the ass crack of dawn cleaning your entire apartment, every single room had to be spotless, cleaned to perfection, shiny to the point of where you can see your face. not only that, but with christmas being literally today, you had to put up last minute decorations since you were too lazy to set up everything during your finals week, although you were busy as hell, so you couldn’t really decorate regardless, anything for your girlfriend i guess.

cleaning the entire apartment took hours, you were at it for so long that you didn’t even realise it was noon, and then decorating took way too long that in a flash it was already the evening and the sun was setting. oh shit, you realised jimin would be coming home soon, and you had no present to give her.

unless….

anyways, as a little treat, since jimin hadn’t seen you in so damn long, you thought it would be nice to dress up for her. even though you will be staying inside with her all day, dressing as santa would be on theme. rummaging through your closet, you find an off shoulder santa dress you bought last year for a party, pairing that with a set of lingerie, yeah you could be jimin’s ‘present’.

it was getting late, really really late, and even though you knew jimin said she was gonna come home at god knows what time, you couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened. you checked your phone, 11:07pm, no messages, no calls from her. you wondered if she stayed behind, knowing her, she would’ve stayed helping someone out if they really needed her, she was kind like that.

you laid on the couch feeling sleepy, all the effort put into making your apartment look presentable and christmas-y took a large toll on your body. seconds go by and you feel your eyes shutting, and your body relaxing.

thirty minutes.

the jingling of jimin’s keys could be heard from a few metres away. she knocked excitedly at the door expecting you to open up and jump into her arms, but nothing. she thought it was a little strange, you’d always opened the door and greeted her with a grin whenever she was able to visit, however you didn’t answer, not even your phone.

jimin thanked you for giving her spare keys just in case a situation like this happened, or a situation where she wanted to surprise you after your uni classes. has it happened? a few of times, yes. she came to your apartment and diligently waited for you with a cake on the table. but besides that, jimin waltzed into the apartment sighing and unzipping her massive puffer jacket “baby i’m home” her voice trailing off as she notices you sleeping on the couch “aww, did you doze off waiting for me? you’re so cute y/n” she was kind enough to lift you up and carry you to the bed, but only a few seconds later she realises what you were wearing.

jimin gently places you on top of your blanket, her face tinted a slight shade of red, your skirt hiked up a little for her to see. she pressed a shaky hand on her lips, wondering if she should really do what she was thinking, knowing you, she thought it would be okay. you’ve established this before, if it comes to jimin coming back to yours and you’re fast asleep, you told her it would be one hundred percent okay for her to wake you up by fucking you.

she sighs heavily and coughs, her hand shakily steadying herself on the bed, hovering right above you. with ease, she took off your dress leaving you with your lingerie on “why’d you have to be asleep. i’m so hard right now you don’t understand” her pants becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every passing second. caressing your skin gently before she unhooked the bra hook at the front, she begins to tease around your already hard nipples, building up her own arousal. a soft mewl escapes your lips, jimin’s teasing gradually turning into heated touches. each touch amplified your moaning, which in favour made jimin reach her breaking point, sliding her cargos off easily, she frantically tugs at the waistband of her boxers before tending to your panties.

spreading your legs apart so she can slot herself in between your thighs, you gradually come into consciousness, blinking your eyes a few times before your vision clears up “mmm… jimin?” you whispered, voice a little husky.

“finally, you’re awake. can we, you know… have sex?” she asks seriously. you giggle at the older girl, you look at her dearly.

“of course we can” noted, she draws herself closer, so close that her lips tickle your own. your arms wrap around jimin’s neck pulling her down, kissing her sweetly and softly. as she gives into the slow kiss, jimin adjusts herself comfortably between your legs, her hard cock against your bare pussy “you’re already hard” you say as you break the kiss.

“you look too cute, i couldn't help it” giggling as she pecks your lips twice before she turns your face to the side slowly kissing your jaw all the way down to your neck “were you dressed as my christmas gift?” huffing each time she stops kissing your neck.

“y-yeah” voice wavering “sorry i wanted to greet you, but i got too sleepy” you whimper softly as she pushes the tip of her cock slowly inside of your pussy.

“that’s okay, i know you did this all for me” you hum happily as she kisses your cheek, “you’ve made christmas so special, and i didn’t get you anything either, so let me treat you tonight” jimin licks her lips in arousal, attentively watching you wince as she pushes the rest of her length inside. one thing jimin loved about being intimate with you is the way you were so reactive to her touches, she always loved how easy it was to make you call out her name while your hands gripped her arm. the way you got so lost in pleasure, the way you sweetly moaned with each thrust, how you had to have your hands somewhere on jimin’s body just to feel even closer, jimin loved it all.

jimin began rolling her hips, her cock being long enough to hit almost every spot that made you squirm beneath her “how are you feeling, does my cock make you feel good?” you couldn’t answer simply with words, rather you responded with rapid ‘hm’s’ and ‘mhm’s’ all while she drove herself deeper. she leaned down and pressed her lips against yours once again, this time sliding in her tongue. you moaned into her mouth, her passion and skill making you feel dizzy and weak from the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving. jimin grinned into the kiss, knowing that she was the only one who could make you feel this way made her heart flutter.

she kept pumping in and out, quickening up the pace in one second, and then stopping abruptly the other second, just to see you hit her shoulder lightly and tell her to speed up while you moved your hips around her shaft, then suddenly speeding up again, catching you off guard and making you yelp.

she continues to rock hard and fast, giving you no time to think for yourself. your stomach plummets feeling like you were about to explode “fu.. fuck. jimin, i- i feel like i’m gonna cum” any other words after sounded like a bunch of garbled nonsense, the words ‘close’ being repeated a few times. to bring you closer to the edge, jimin took her fingers, put them softly into your mouth for you to suck them obediently, took them out and rubbed your clit slow circles. you moaned loud in response, her fingers skilfully playing with your clit as her thrusts grew harsher and consistent.

“ah… me too, god i’m so close-“ jimin kept going, her harsh thrust weakened her arms, forcing her to press her body against yours. she couldn’t take it much longer, her cock twitching and her tip overly sensitive “gonna.. i’m gonna cum, fuck” her hips jolted, her face nuzzling in between your neck as she attempts to hide a long moan. not so long after, you followed in suit, feeling her warm semen filling the insides of your pussy made you lose it. you gripped jimin’s bicep as you threw your head onto the soft pillow, legs twitching in response to jimin’s fingers still rubbing your clit.

a few seconds of relishing in ecstasy go by, you and your lover breathing heavily, catching your breath while you caress jimin’s hair lovingly. you tapped her shoulder “you okay baby?” she got up from between your neck, her baby hairs sticking to her forehead,

“merry christmas babe” smiling sweetly as she kisses your forehead, “i’m okay, it felt too good i almost blacked out” she pulled out, watching you again as you frowned subtly. jimin held back a giggle, you were just too cute “come on babe, let's get up. i’ll run a bath for the both of us”

“you’re so sweet jimin, i love you so much”

“i love you too y/n, merry christmas you cutie”

#wintersera #aespa smut #aespa karina smut #g!p aespa #g!p karina #yu jimin smut #yu jimin x reader smut #karina x reader smut #karina x fem reader smut #kpop smut #girl group smut

897 notes · View notes

simpjaes · 9 months

Note

speaking of hoon edging himself for days when you're not available, can you write a quick prompt about how he'd fill up and overflow all your holes when you get back. fuck, he'd be the type to go for ages even after you're all fucked out and overstimulated

reminder that I don't do requests but since you asked for a prompt, i'll write a lil somethin' somethin'.

christmas setting woohoo!

warnings: major edging, a billion orgasms, reader is smaller than him and can be lifted and held up.

wc: 1.4k

Sunghoon, your busy, busy boyfriend. Sunghoon, you're amazingly sweet, loving, and careful boyfriend. Sunghoon, your very, very horny boyfriend.

Honestly, he hates himself every time he does it. Sometimes it's intentional, but this time it wasn't entirely his fault.

It's the first time since you started dating him that you had to go home for a week during the holidays. Which is fine, you've only been dating him since the beginning of the year and it was somewhat expected that you wouldn't be spending christmas with him and him alone. After all, you expected him to go home too.

And he did, which arguably makes his situation worse.

Sunghoon, your needy, pathetic, and annoyed boyfriend.

What's worse is that edging is one thing, but this is just blatant torture. He thought it would be fun to be long-distance for a week. He wanted phone sex, he wanted to see you fuck yourself on camera for him, he wanted you to show him how much you missed him. And that's ultimately where he fucked up.

Because you can barely even respond to his text messages let alone call him for phone sex. Due to sharing a room with your cousin, due to constantly helping your family out with holiday preparations, due to-- doing stuff that doesn't involve helping him out.

You're entirely being distracted from him right now. Family, holiday tradition, and merry joy or whatever.

And you know, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if it weren't for the fact that his libido is far too high to have a girlfriend not on him every night. And by every night, it's really every night.

He's supposed to be distracted, though, with being home too and all. But he's entirely tuned into the fact that he's been so fucking hard since the day after you left. It's almost painful now, especially because something inside of him drives him to enjoy this torture. To try and hold off for the day you both eventually land back in the same city, and he can fuck all of this frustration out of himself and into you.

Plus, um, it's kind of hard to jerk off in his family home surrounded by said family. If anything, he should not be as horny as he is. He should be entirely turned off, and entirely tuned in to wrapping gifts and pretending santa is real.

Which, again, isn't working because with each day that passes, all he can think about is you and how you looked the last night you were together, all pretty with your lashes fluttering up at him. Pretty face, pretty mouth, pretty pussy.

Man, he's gonna fucking explode before this week is up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Safe to say, Sunghoon did not explode.

But upon looking at him when he storms into your dorm room? He seems pretty fucking close to it. He looks sleepy, spent, and even exhausted.

You were half ready to offer your bed up for a nice little afternoon nap before he came up to you and immediately had his hand down your loose pajama shorts.

"Hoon?" You ask with a light chuckle.

"You couldn't even call me." He very nearly whined, which is kiiind of new to you.

Then it clicks. Right. Your boyfriend and his libido. His sex drive.

Oh my god, he must have been suffering.

"I'm so hard right now," He chokes out, rubbing himself against your thigh. "I've been so hard all week, babe, please."

And he doesn't really need to ask, but it's kind of cute that he does.

"Why didn't you take care of it?" You ask playfully, feeling his frantic fingers work you up so that you're ready to take whatever nightmare amount of cum he needs to give to you.

"Why didn't you take care of it?" He counters, fingers stopping for a moment before he shifts entirely, pulling his hand out of your pants and immediately shoving you back and against the small dorm kitchen counter.

You chuckle, because of course you do. You'll never get used to being needed or wanted so badly by someone, and it fills you with so much joy that he's really this desperate.

"I should maybe leave more often," You smile at him when he's slipping your pants off of you, hiking one of your legs up and against his waist before fumbling with his own pants. "Never seen you this horny--"

He shuts you up fast, your voice only working him up more and more with your stupid, stupid playful words. You're loving this, you must loooove to see him fucking suffer over you.

And then, the only sound that you can hear is the ringing in your ears as he plunges himself into you. Cock already hard and wet, pulsing with the need to fuck something. You, specifically.

It's like neither of you could speak if you wanted to, with his consistent groans and relieved sighs of feeling your pussy squeeze him like he missed so much.

"Missed you, fuck-" He manages to choke out, already nearing the point of orgasm before it slams into him without warning.

It's the first time he's ever come so fast, barely a full ten strokes into you before it happened, but you love it all the same. It felt somehow better than usual. After all, he could go for an hour or more when his sexual appetite is fed nearly every night by you.

Arguably, he appears to be able to go an hour or more now too, as your face falls into that of shock that his orgasm doesn't render him flaccid or spent.

He paused through his first orgasm, feeling it run through his body in a numbing way, only to immediately fuck up and into you harder once it's subsided. He knows he has more to give, so, so much more. A weeks worth of fucking you will be had now.

And man, you feel every inch of him, deeper and deeper until somehow he feels bigger than usual. Somehow he's splitting you open better than he ever has, and he's filling you up with orgasms that have never once lasted as long as the ones he's shaking through now.

A second orgasm comes in the form of him wrapping your other leg around his waist too, where he's essentially holding you up and against the counter absolutely railing your pussy until his legs nearly buckle.

And well, they do buckle. He's careful though, maintaining his balance before tapping your legs without a word and immediately pushing you to the floor. You stared in awe at how his cock is still working through the two orgasms, despite his brain clearly having gone blank the moment he said he missed you.

There, you give him a third orgasm with your throat. It took a little longer, and it only happened when he let it. Holding your head in place with both hands, fucking his hips into you just to feel your throat constrict and strangle his pathetic and still needy cock. You hear his brain start working again through this, and the only words he can mutter is, "it's like you're doing this on purpose, god, look at how you take it."

You take all of it and you taste all of it, again and again as he stumbled in front of you, angling his hips into your mouth to push it deeper, just to come to the point that you're choking. You wish you could have seen the way he chewed against his bottom lip and threw his head back as it happened.

You're so good to him though, letting him take it out on you like this. So, so good to him.

And it didn't stop. For hours he fucked himself into every part of you that you'd allow, offering you several orgasms in turn from sheer force and need alone. He didn't really even try, because for the first time with you, he was solely desperate to focus on himself. To empty his body of this buildup, and to fill you up with how frustrated he's managed to become.

By the next morning, you weren't the only one rendered unable to walk. His own legs felt weak, his head hurt, his eyes were strained at the morning light. But when he looked at you, smiling as if you really would leave more often just to have him lose his goddamn mind like that again, he immediately scolds.

"Why are you smiling like you're gonna do this shit to me again?"

And you'd just smile wider.

"Because I definitely will."

He rolls his strained eyes at you, thinking hard about the fact that as much as he hates not fucking you, he might kind of love the way you make it up to him.

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #hardthots #anon #ask

444 notes · View notes

panda-writes-kpop · 9 months

Text

international love ~ huh yunjin (requested!)

a/n: Merry Christmas, everyone!! my Christmas present to y'all is the promise that I'm working on request, albeit slowly, but I'm getting there. loved writing this fic (yunjin my beloved), and I hope everyone else enjoys it just as much. And to the person that requested this, I hope this is what you were looking for. 🫶

tw: a bit of angst at the beginning that turns into fluff, long distance relationship, a bit suggestive at the end

word count ~ 1.7k

summary: you've been missing your girlfriend, huh yunjin, since she went to Korea to chase her dreams of becoming an idol. now that your career as an actor has taken off, the two of you have a chance to reunite in the city of dreams: NYC.

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Babe."

You snap out of your thoughts at the sound of Yunjin's voice coming from your phone speaker.

"I'm listening, Yunjin, there's just some loud noises going on outside of my apartment." You bluff, hoping she'll buy it.

In truth, you hadn't been listening to her, but you had been thinking about her. She's been away in Korea for a year and a half, and you've been missing her presence as of late. Long distance worked for the two of you, when she wasn't busy with schedules and you weren't busy with your work.

As a rising American star, you had your own filming schedule to deal with. Movie production had just wrapped up for the night, and you know that Yunjin would be starting her day with interviews, dance practice, or whatever else kept her busy throughout the morning.

Whatever it was, she would often have a bit of downtime when the cameras turned off, and she'd pull out her phone and start messaging you. Messages turned into phone calls, and soon you'd find yourself talking to her face-to-face until she was interrupted by her manager, or your agent was calling you to confirm a booking of sorts.

The distance had been rough on you two, at first, but you looked forward to your nightly - and her daily - calls. Still, you couldn't help but miss hearing her laugh in person, the way her lips met your cheek every time you woke up together, or the feeling of her resting in your arms after a long day.

"Are your neighbors still practicing their drums at this hour?" Yunjin throws her head back and laughs, and every bit of you wishes that you could reach through the phone and kiss her at this moment.

There was no drumming to be heard but the beat of your heart in your eardrums, but you played along with her idea - it's better than any lie you could've come up with.

"Yeah, they're still at it. I wish they'd get picked up by a touring 80s band so I can have a night of peace." You draw out your sigh, which gets a stifled giggle from Yunjin.

"I wish I was there with you. I bet you'd forget about all that noise if you were with me." She teases as you widely smile.

"Me too, Yunjin, me too."

An all-consuming silence washes all over the both of you as thousands of words threaten to roll off your tongue.

I wish you'd come back to America. I wish I could come and visit you. I adore everything about you.

I miss you.

"Yunjin-ah, stop talking with them before the manager scolds you again!"

You hear Eunchae softly scold her older member as Yunjin shouts a reply that the microphone doesn't pick up.

"Sorry, babe, I've got to go. Same time tomorrow?" She tilts her head, and you nearly lose all composure at the gesture.

"Sounds good, darling. I love you, and I'm so proud of you." You softly say as Yunjin waves goodbye.

"I love you too-"

"YUNJIN-"

The call cuts off before you hear Eunchae lay into Yunjin, and you let yourself smile for a moment before laying your phone on the nightstand.

Your head hits the pillow as you close your eyes and imagine a world where there isn't thousands of miles between you and your lover.

"I have good news." Your lips almost betray you as Yunjin leans in towards you. "I'm headed to New York to do some promotion for the movie!"

Yunjin lets out a scream that would've been ear-shattering if you had been in the same room as her. She happily claps for you as you take a pretend bow.

"That's great! When are you going to New York?"

"Sometime in late October. My agent is working out the details now." You think back to your last conversation with your agent, where they happily told you that you will only have a couple of scheduled events over those two weeks. That means that you'd finally have a break, which was exactly what you needed at this moment.

You just found yourself wishing that Yunjin could be by your side for those two weeks.

Yunjin scrunches her eyebrows for a moment, deep in thought, before responding.

"Can't wait to hear about all of your amazing adventures. You'll take pictures, won't you?"

"Honey, you know that you're much better at photography than I will ever be," You hold back a laugh as Yunjin attempts to sway you by slightly pouting, "but I'll do my best for you."

The smile on her face reappears as she happily tells you all about her day, and the misadventures of her and the other members over the week.

"You girls sound like you have so much fun together." You comment after her last story, but she notices the way your lips turn downwards before recovering into a soft smile.

"Is everything alright?"

"I mean, I'm good, but I've been really missing you as of late."

"Aww, I've missed you too." Yunjin glances away from her phone for a moment before looking back at you. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course." You nod as Yunjin sticks her pinky up towards her phone. "What are you doing?"

"You have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Yunjin, this is ridiculous-"

"Promise me." Her voice switches to a serious tone, which sends you backpedaling immediately.

"I promise." You stick up your pinky, and it takes everything in you not to laugh as you both shake your phones in agreement.

"Now that that's settled, I can tell you the good news: we're headed to America for some of our promotions."

"Yunjin, that's so exciting for you and the girls!" You proudly say. "You all deserve it, you've been busting your asses for a long time."

"I also may or may not have heard that we have a scheduled performance in New York..."

Your eyes light up the moment she mentions New York.

"Tell me when and where, as soon as you know. I'll be there, I promise you." Your heart quickens at the thought of Yunjin being near you again, but you know she probably wouldn't have time with all of her schedules.

You gently let yourself down as Yunjin glances away again.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna be late for dance practice. See you tomorrow!" She blows you a kiss before ending the call.

Tonight, you fall asleep with thoughts of Yunjin by your side.

New York, here I come.

NYC was the city of dreams. It was the place where you were first scouted, the first set for your first movie, and the first late night show that you were ever featured on was in NYC. You had a love for the bustling city and its endless streams of people, even as some of them pushed you to the side as you walked down the street.

After finishing your first interview with another cast member earlier in the week, you were done with promotions until the weekend. That left you with enough time to see LE SSERAFIM perform a few songs and do a close-up interview with fans. You didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, so you donned a face mask with a pair of sunglasses in order to draw attention away from yourself. Besides a few odd glances here and there, it tended to do the job.

You slipped into the back of the venue, with your agent by your side. They wanted to see the girl they'd been hearing about for months, and you wanted to get the girls a new fan. It was a win-win scenario for all.

The girls came out to loud screams from the crowd, and you absorbed yourself in their energy as you cheered along with them. You spot Yunjin from a mile away, but she won't recognize you.

You told her you'd be there, but you'd keep yourself hidden. You didn't want to start any rumors between yourself and the girls, considering how badly that could go for either of you.

Besides, with the help of a begrudging manager, you had something special planned for later in the night.

You anxiously await Yunjin in the hotel room while you're dressed in your finest clothes. She was supposed to be back a few minutes ago, the manager assured you, so everything was ready in time.

You had a spread of her favorite foods prepared by one of your favorite chefs in NYC. You'd also taken the luxury of getting a window-side room that opened up to the busy streets of NYC. The view was breathtaking, but you couldn't imagine anything looking better than Huh Yunjin walking through that door.

You immediately jump to attention when you hear someone fiddling with the doorknob. A few voices come from the outside, and you realize it's her members. They wish her a lovely evening, and you hear the confusion in Yunjin's voice until she opens the door and sees you.

Her eyes widen as she sets aside her luggage in time to receive your hug. She squeezes tighter than you do, and once you're both satisfied, you pull away enough to give her the kiss you've been waiting for.

Yunjin is sweet like cherries and refreshing like the ocean, so you're nearly knocked to the ground when her lips leave yours.

"I missed that," She breathlessly says before letting out a small laugh, "but I missed you more."

She pulls you in to kiss your cheek before grabbing her luggage and heading inside. You quickly close the door behind her before taking her hand and leading her around the room.

"You did all of this... for me?" The surprise in her voice is evident, as is the genuineness in yours.

"I knew that this might be the last time we see each other for a while, so I wanted to make it special, just for you."

"Just for me?" She's astounded, as if you wouldn't climb a thousand mountains to please her every whim.

"Love, I'd do anything to keep that smile on your face."

Her smile reappears as she drops her luggage off at the bedroom door. Yunjin turns back to you with a mischievous look on her face.

"Since we've got the place to ourselves, why not make up for lost time?"

You don't have to state your agreement before she pulls you in for another kiss. Thousands of kisses are shared that night, the night you won't forget until you and Yunjin are reunited once more.

254 notes · View notes

boba-beom · 9 months

Text

･ﾟﾟ･｡ my beautiful girlfriend | WEN JUNHUI

pairing: idol/actor!junhui x ff!reader // genre: oneshot; hurt, comfort, angst(?) // warnings: petnames; (baby and love), misunderstanding, overthinking, crying, lowkey self-depricating, proofread quickly. // wc: 1.6k

a/n: merry christmas <3 @honajoong hii lex!! I'm your secret santa :> despite starting a little late, I wanted to be involved as well and I got you!! I will admit I struggled to write for junhui since he's the first seventeen member I've written about, but hopefully I think I managed to grasp his characteristics(?) 🥹 I hope it's okay!! also 'yn yln' is 'your name' and 'your last name' :>

Two years. Two whole years since jun asked to be your boyfriend. Two whole years since you started supporting him through his acting career. But never in your two whole years together were you jealous about his co-stars or fans. You've always been hidden away from the public, not going to any events together. Not even getting barricade tickets for his and his group's concerts for the sake of not getting caught somehow.

It's always been like that though. But that's because no one knew about your relationship, not even the rest of his group members.

Jealousy has never been an issue for you until you read an article regarding jun's new upcoming Chinese drama. See, this was new to you. Usually you'd be excited; treating him to order take out from his favourite place, or buying him small gifts to add to his collection of other things you got him within your relationship.

As you read article after article the majority published about how jun and his co-star make such a good couple. Some even published pictures of them together at the premier event they recently attended, while others are scene captures from the said drama.

There was this one picture you saw that made your heart drum disturbingly loud in your ears, not because of the photo itself but because of the comments regarding it. Your eyes dart from comment to comment, 'Wen Junhui and ____ have incredible chemistry', 'A new couple in made in the industry?', 'I hope they're dating in real life.'

Your breathing pattern becomes ragged from the thought of feeling like you're hindering Jun in his life. If you were just making things difficult for him since you were no one but a regular person who works a 9-5 job. In times like this, which was rare, you had no one but yourself to console you.

A single tear runs down your cheek which has you vigorously wiping it off your face, refusing to let yourself become so weak because of this.

You see a text appear from the top of your phone, a text from your boyfriend asking how you were and letting you know when he'll be home, but a part of you felt like you were sinking inside. All these comments getting to your head about Jun and his co-star, but you know you shouldn't think that way. Besides, you never used to think that way initially.

Thinking that it's best to sleep off the thoughts gathering in your head, you grab the folded blanket beside you on the couch, splaying it over you as you play music from the t.v, hoping that would help you get your mind off it.

Hours pass, the living room dim from the lack of light but only from the t.v itself. You pick up your phone to check the time, and while you were asleep, you received multiple texts and a missed call from Jun; all the messages asking if you've eaten, what you want to watch later in the evening, and so forth.

However, you didn't feel like messaging him back, or even calling him back either. You thought your nap would rid of the uncomfortable overthinking, but it just has you questioning, 'why is he even with me?' He could pick any other girl, but why did he choose you. He has a beautiful co-star with incredible chemistry, why doesn't he just ask her to be his girlfriend instead—

"Yn?" Jun's voice echoes in the room and cuts off your trail of thoughts.

You refuse to turn your back and greet him, instead, you pick up the remote and search through films to watch as if he wasn't calling your name again.

"Hey, did you get my texts? Have you decided what you wanna eat tonight?" Jun asks again, caressing the top of your head and missed as he tried to kiss the top of your head, but you flinched away.

"Not hungry." You reply curtly.

He could sense something was off, not wanting to think too much into it, he lets it slide as he goes into the bedroom for a quick shower and change of clothes. He hasn't seen you behave this way before, wondering what possibly could have happened recently to tick you off. His mind was thinking of every possibility but to think of articles since his shoots for the drama were quite a while ago.

As he walks back into the living room, you're still sitting in the same spot on the couch. He walks around the couch to sit beside you, lifting the side of the blanket to share, but you take it off and let him have all of it instead.

Jun turns his head to look at you, a questioning expression on his face yet you don't turn to look at him. A straight, unbothered face is what he sees as your eyes are stuck on whatever movie you put on the t.v.

"Is everything alright? I feel like I've done something wro-"

"Everything's fine." You lie, cutting him off and not wanting to think about it anymore. For the first time in a while you almost didn't want to be in his presence for the sake of keeping sane.

"Well it doesn't sound fine." He turns his body, attempting to test the waters as he places a careful hand on your lap. This time you don't flinch.

You sigh. Pausing before you answer him honestly, "Because it's not."

"Love, how am I supposed to know what's bothering you if you won't tell me straight?" Jun's hand starts caressing your thigh in attempt to comfort you and allow you to open up to him, like you usually do.

You try to gather your thoughts and stare at one spot, but nothing in particular, on the t.v as your breathing becomes uneven. It's difficult talking about a feeling you never thought you had to ever talk about, but it was bound to happen at least once in your life. And that was this current moment in time.

A stuck, choked up feeling in your throat starts to erupt as you struggle to find the words to say, leading to you struggling to stop yourself from tearing up out of frustration.

You explain about the articles you've read about him and his co-star, the ones headlining and the comments you've seen. Your breathing hitches a little while you're talking, and Jun couldn't help but scoot closer to you with his arm around you.

"I tried my best to not let it bother me, but it was a lot to take in. I'm sorry." Jun wipes away at your tears, listening intently as you continue, "I know it's your job, I understand if I'm being unacceptable and if you don't want to be with me anymore."

Tears are non-stop streaming down your face, also because you're mad at yourself for becoming so weak and letting this get to you in the first place. You feel Jun's hand resting on the middle of your back, rubbing it with comfort.

You continue letting out your hushed cries, burying your face into his chest with muffled sorries leaving you. Jun's never seen you cry so much and his heart drops at the sound of your irregular breathing pattern in attempt to stop yourself crying. How could you stop when he hugs you tight momentarily, slowly swaying you side to side as he rests his cheek by your temple.

"Hey, hey. It's okay." He cups your cheek, pulling back to hold your face close to his. "You know you're always going to be the one for me. I'm sorry that hiding our relationship has been difficult, I know. I want to let everyone know that I'm yours, but right now it's a little tricky, and I know that's no excuse but I swear I will let people know. Sooner than later, I promise."

Your sobs quieten down, a little exhausted from the thoughts occupying your mind the whole day. But you respond with a slow nod and a tight lipped smile as you both shuffle on the couch and lay your head on his chest as his hand finds its way to skim up and down your back once again.

･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡

It's been a few days since Jun had comforted you. Your phone pings from a notification about another article that had just released with the headline reading, 'Wen Junhui breaks rumours about dating co-star and is a relationship with Yn Yln"

You read it once more. And another time, expecting there to be hate thrown at you, but there was nothing but love and support from Jun's fans. It was entirely different to how you thought they would take it, but you're just grateful that it didn't go that way at all.

Your boyfriend's tall figure walks through the door with a bouquet of flowers, not even a couple of minutes after you had read the article, and he's making his way to you sat by the breakfast bar.

His subtle smile curves his lips as he holds the bouquet out for you. While you, on the other hand, are pouting; worried that it might ruin his career and receive potential hate, but Jun was unbothered. He was certain about it.

"You didn't have to do that, Jun." You insist, receiving the flowers from him. "I don't want this to affect your career."

He stands by your knees as you face him, towering over you ever so slightly.

"I wanted to let them know. I can't keep hiding this relationship forever," he kisses your forehead as his hands plant on your shoulders, giving them a tight squeeze. "And honesty, as much as I love to keep you to myself, they need to know that you're my beautiful girlfriend."

tags: @lovejoshua @junniieesbby @flwrseon

permanent taglist: @choiwrld @yjusei @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque

302 notes · View notes

snowwybear · 9 months

Text

𝗣𝗢𝗩: 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿 | 𝘃𝗼𝗹 𝗩𝗜𝗜

Warnings: fluff and slight angst

Requested by anon

𝟏.

vinnie

merry christmas ❤️

Your phone lit up with a text from Vinnie. You sighed as you read the message, ‘merry Christmas’. You and Vinnie had broken a couple of months ago, which was a surprise to everyone including you. The two of you have been together for a long time and were one of those couples that everyone thought was going to last forever. So imagine all your family and close friends shock when you announced the break up. Hell you were still in shock. You couldn’t stop thinking about that moment or all the happy times you spent together or the future you could have had. What a waste. It felt wasteful thinking about how you were going to marry this man and have kids one day, but at the same time it didn’t. You were still thinking about those things, you wanted to reach out and talk to him. You wanted to ask him to take you back, but you didn’t know if he still felt that same about you. The break up wasn’t dramatic, at the time it was mutual, but now you weren’t so sure. Did you guys jump the gun instead of fighting to keep your relationship alive or did he need this, did he really wanted to be able to breathe on his own?

vinnie

gimme a haul

i wanna see what you got 😊

Smiling a little at the message you propped up your phone, hit record on your phone and showed off all the stuff you got. When you were finished and happy with the results you sent hit the send button. You stared at your phone for a few seconds, a frown replacing your smile. You hated how he filled your brain with once happy memories that now are being replaced with sadness. You hated how you didn’t know what he was thinking, why the two of you were still friends despite the agony he caused every time he looked at you.

Vinnie smiled at the video you sent him. He couldn’t stop smiling, you presence was infectious even if was just through a screen.

“What are you smiling at?” Maria said peering over at him from the kitchen.

A big bright smile with a soft gaze focusing directly on you, Maria knew that smile however. Vinnie always smiled like that whenever you were around.

“Nothing”. Vinnie replied quickly before hearting the video.

Maria shook her head before continuing back to what she was doing in the kitchen. She too was taken a back when her son came home for Christmas without his girlfriend wrapped up in his arms. You were a part of the family, the two of you had been together for that long every time you came around you were getting the “when are you two getting married” or the “when am I getting grandchildren”. You were a missing piece of the family. When Maria did eventually ask what happened, Vinnie stumbled his way through the explanation. Maria saw through this. She knew through his broken explanation that he didn’t believe a word he was saying, that he deeply regretted the decision.

I miss you, he typed out but quickly deleted. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t even know if you felt the same. The whole time Vinnie was home, he kept thinking about you. What Christmas would have been like if you were here with him. How long would it have to be before he finally said something. Did you still even feel the same way? Maybe you did, but then he’d have to figure out how to talk to you. He’d have to admit he made a mistake, admit he wasn’t thinking and admit he rushed the decision. Or maybe you didn’t, it would take longer for him to get over you but after that you’d be a memory. A memory from his past, the one that got away.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

𝟐.

It was 1:50 am, you and Vinnie stumbled back into the apartment coming back from your New Year’s Eve party. That party had started after you had finished work, so it’s safe to say you were tired before the clock stuck midnight. Vinnie kept checking up on you throughout the night, making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

As soon as you got home you rushed to take everything off, ripping off the clothes from your both, taring off your shoes and violently scrubbing off your makeup off with a makeup wipe. Finally, you put on your pyjamas and crawled into bed, closing your eyes. A few minutes later Vinnie joined you in bed, wrapping his arms around your waist spooning you.

“Happy New Year babe”. He whispered lightly kissing the crook of your neck.

“Happy New Year”. You yawned out.

“Any plans for the new year?”

You thought for a moment before answering, “maybe more travelling or maybe just doing things I didn’t get the opportunity to do. Oh and getting another cat”.

“We are not getting another cat”. Vinnie shook his head

“Why not? Hera needs a sister, she’ll get lonely”.

“I’ll think about, how about that?”

“Fine”. You muttered. “What about you? Any plans for the New Year?”

“Hmm maybe just working on my mental health. Working on grounding myself and learning to create a balance between work and life so I don’t become overwhelmed. So, I guess working on me”.

You opened your eyes and moved around to face him.

“You’re an amazing person Vinnie. It’s not a crime if you need to step back and take care of your heart”. You placed a kiss on this lips.

“Thank you”. He said sincerely, returning a kiss back on your lips.

He pushed your body closer into his, your arms wrapped around his torso and your face nuzzled in between his neck and shoulder. You muttered an ‘I love you’ before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep. Vinnie placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, whispered back an ‘I love you too”, before following you to sleep.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and New Year. I hope everyone had a happy new year too.

In case you made it this far, my requests are open if anybody has anything. ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie imagines #vinnie smut #vinnie x reader #vinnie x y/n #request #snowwybear

192 notes · View notes

charlesslut16 · 9 months

Text

-Christmas Day-

summary : you surprise liam on christmas day, even tho you told him you couldn't come...

PAIRING : liam lawson x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : IT IS CHRISTMAS DAY!!! I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY AND GET THE BEST PRESENTS YOU CAN WISH FOR!!

december masterlist ; masterlist

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

Liam Lawson was bustling with excitement, buzzing with holiday cheer as Christmas approached. He'd been planning a cozy celebration for the two of you, eagerly awaiting your arrival.

You, however, had been swept up unexpectedly in a whirlwind of commitments, unable to make it to his side for the special day. Liam understood, but his disappointment was palpable.

As Christmas morning dawned, you woke up feeling a pang of regret and guilt for not being with Liam. But then an idea sparked in your mind—a surprise visit!

You quickly packed a bag, wrapping presents hurriedly and setting off on a journey to make Liam's Christmas brighter. You knew he would be so happy for you to be with him on Christmas.

Meanwhile, Liam sat by the fireplace at his parents' house, a hint of longing in his eyes as he watched the snowfall outside. His phone buzzed, and with a glimmer of hope, he glanced at the screen.

It was a message from you.

His heart raced as he read your words: "Hey love, I wish I could be there with you today, but I'm sending all my love. Merry Christmas!"

Liam couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness, missing you even more on this special day. He loved having you by his side and on Christmas would be much better.

Unbeknownst to Liam, you were on your way, journeying through the snowy landscape, determined to surprise him. As the day wore on, Liam tried to mask his disappointment, putting on a brave face for his family.

His family could tell something was amiss, but they played along, keeping the surprise under wraps. You had messaged his mother earlier on, so that she knew, and she told everyone else, except Liam.

Hours passed, and just as dusk began to settle in, there was a knock on the door. Liam's heart skipped a beat—he wasn't expecting anyone. Why would someone knock on Christmas day, at this hour?

With a puzzled expression, he opened the door to find you standing there, bundled up in a coat, cheeks flushed from the cold, a radiant smile illuminating your face.

"Liam, my love!" you exclaimed happily, unable to contain your excitement. His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of shock and pure joy flooding his expression. You. You were here. You were here at his home.

"What are you doing here?" he managed to stammer, barely able to comprehend the sight before him. His girlfriend standing in front of on Christmas day, even tho she told him she could not come.

"I couldn't stay away," you replied with a happy smile, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "I had to be with you on Christmas. I love being by your side and to spend Christmas with you would be a dream."

Liam pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. "I can't believe you're here," he whispered, his voice filled with lots of emotions.

Together, you joined his family, laughter and warmth filling the room as you shared stories of your journey and the surprise you had managed to keep a secret.

Liam couldn't stop stealing glances at you, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. He needed to make sure that you were really here with him, he still couldn't believe it.

As the evening progressed, you all gathered around the beautifully adorned Christmas tree. Liam's eyes sparkled as he handed you a small, wrapped box. "Merry Christmas, love," he said softly.

With eager anticipation, you unwrapped the gift to find a delicate pendant shaped like a snowflake. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Liam, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

"It's to remind you of this special Christmas," Liam explained, his voice filled with affection. "A reminder that even when we're apart, our love is as unique and beautiful as a snowflake."

At that moment, surrounded by love, laughter, and the twinkling lights of the tree, you knew that being together was the greatest gift of all. Together and in love with your significant other.

Liam squeezed your hand, a silent promise of love and togetherness, grateful for the unexpected surprise that made this Christmas one to cherish forever. He would tell it to his children and his grandchildren.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fluff #liam lawson x y/n #liam lawson f1 #liam lawson blurb #liam lawson #liam lawson imagine #liam lawson x reader #christmas #masterlist

106 notes · View notes

shslbunnylover · 9 months

Note

i loved the chessy story you wrote for christmas so much that i wanted to request another chessy x reader. where it’s their first christmas together as a couple and they both wanna make it special for each other. LOTS OF FLUFF PLEASE and maybe some teasing from both ends.

★★★𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 (12 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝘿𝙖𝙮 12: 𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙢𝙖𝙨)★★★

Character: Chessy

Requester: Anonymous

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1 (Message me to be a part of the taglist until I get a page set up!!)

Trigger warnings (DL, DI): References to sex, sexual teasing/flirting

Genre: Fluff

A/n: And that's a wrap! (Haha, see what I did there 😝) Merry Christmas everyone!!

Word count: 1.3k

...

Ever since Annie and Hallie were reunited, Christmas was somehow more chaotic at the Parker household. You loved the holidays, there was no doubt about that, and you were always dancing to Christmas music and decked out in Christmas clothes every second from Black Friday through New Year's. But one person in particular made your Christmas even more magical for you, Chessy, the housekeeper at the Parker residence.

The two of you got together in Mid-Spring of that year, and you were determined to make it as special as possible for the woman, as she had already made it as good for you as possible.

"Hallie! Annie! You know Santa's still watching!" You exclaimed as the girls ran past you, trying to set up traps for Santa like the two did every year in their separate households, but they were now a united force.

"Y/n! He's busy delivering stuff on the other side of the world! He's too busy to watch us!" Hallie called out, causing you to laugh.

"Touche..." You shrugged your shoulders, continuing to do the dishes.

"You know you don't have to do my job for me, right?" Chessy asked, walking up to you with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face.

"I'm not driving Elizabeth anywhere until they all go to church tonight, might as well help you out. It gets the job done quicker," You leaned back to place a kiss on her cheek before drying off the last dish and putting it in the cabinet.

"I guess so," The redhead rested her head on your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Can't believe it's already Christmas Eve,"

"Huh, I wasn't aware of that," You nudged her slightly with a laugh, referring to the girls who were freaking out.

"What'd you get them?" Chessy whispered in your ear, making sure the girls couldn't listen in.

"I got them custom saddles, what about you?" You replied,

"Well, the little rascals wouldn't tell me, so I got Hallie a bag to hold Cuppy in, and I got Annie a new fencing helmet since hers broke," The aquamarine-eyed woman smiled.

"Now the question is, what did you get me?" You turned around, poking her boob with a laugh.

"Maybe I didn't get you anything~ You've been quite naughty~" Chessy teased.

You blushed furiously, going to reply before being cut off by Hallie standing across from you.

"Chessy and Y/n, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!" The girl smirked.

"Hallie, please," Annie rolled her eyes. "They've been like this forever, don't act all surprised," She walked up to her twin.

"It's still fun as h- heck," Hallie corrected herself, pursing her lips together out of nervousness before dashing off, Annie following slowly behind her.

You looked back at your girlfriend, leaning your head back in exasperation before burying your face in her shoulder.

"They'll never leave us alone, will they?" You asked.

"Nope, have you met them?" Chessy replied, her hand falling to your ass, squeezing it slightly and electing a squeak from you.

"And you say I'm naughty..." You grumbled, forcing your face deeper into her.

"We're gonna catch him Y/n! I just know it!" Hallie beamed as she laid down on her bed, holding cuppy to her body whilst Annie was already asleep. "Tell them Chessy!"

Chessy looked at you, then back at the young girl.

"You know Santa prepares for the things all year, I don't think you can catch him," She shrugged her shoulders with a laugh.

"Even if I don't catch him, I'm still gonna hear him!"

You tucked Hallie into the bed, tickling her softly before kissing her on the forehead.

"We'll see, tell us about it when you get up at a reasonable time tomorrow," You chuckled.

Hallie nodded, quickly shutting her eyes as the two of you walked out.

"You've got the gifts?" You turned to face your girlfriend once you were out of hearing distance.

"You know it," Chessy winked, pulling a giant red bag out from a nearby closet.

"How do they afford this?" You sighed, rubbing your forehead.

"Have you seen their businesses?" The auburn-haired woman replied.

The next morning you were both woken up by the girls shaking you, and you groggily pulled yourselves out of your comfortable bed provided to you by the Parkers.

"I said reasonable girls," You groaned, rubbing your eyes as your other hand held Chessy's.

"It's 8! That's reasonable!" Hallie beamed, running down the stairs to the Christmas tree, and dragging Annie along with her.

"Is it?" Chessy replied, waving a good morning to Elizabeth and Nick who were standing in the kitchen, getting their morning coffee.

"Mom! Dad! Look! Santa came!" The twins exclaimed at the same time, running up to the four of you to drag you towards the tree.

Once the girls had opened all of their presents and began to play with them, you decided that it was time to give Chessy her Christmas present.

"I thought you were nice enough to me this year, so here's this," You smirked, handing the redhead a small box.

"Aw, thank you Y/n," Chessy smiled, taking the box in her hands and slowly unwrapping it, revealing a diamond necklace with an infinity symbol engrained in the front.

"It's a promise necklace, I didn't want to get you a ring because it might mess with your work, but I knew a necklace wouldn't!" You beamed, waiting for her response.

"It's...It's gorgeous, h-how did you-"

"Don't worry about that Chess, all that matters is that you like it," You reassured her, placing your hand on the side of her face.

"Thank you Y/n," Chessy whispered, hugging you tightly, pressing a kiss to your lips once she was done.

"I'd prefer to see you wearing just the necklace though..." You teased, your hand falling to her covered bra and tugging it secretly.

"That'll go perfectly with the Christmas present I got you," The redhead winked. "But in all seriousness, thank you Y/n,"

Your smirk softened into a smile, and you pulled her into a kiss, the both of you ignoring the squeals from the twins.

"Merry Christmas Chess,"

"Merry Christmas Y/n,"

...

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

#chessy x reader #chessy #the parent trap #parent trap #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #wlw #wlw ns/fw #nblw #nblw ns/fw #wlw and nblw only #fluff #12 days of fluffmas #12 days of ficmas #Akira writes #christmas #<3

89 notes · View notes

sunshineseung · 2 years

Text

assume it’s a smut oneshot if there’s no fluff/series indicator :)

this won’t get updated often sorry x

Bang Chan 🐺🦘

Yardwork - The boy next door, Chris, can’t help but notice your eyes on him, and he decides to lend you a hand... and more. Vacation - Your two boyfriends fullfill your needs while you’re on your long awaited vacation (threesome w/ Monsta X’s Shownu). Day 1 - 100 days of smut Mirror - You love making Chan watch himself fall apart. Brats - You and Jeongin get in trouble with your dom, Chan (threesome w/ Jeongin). Interrogation - You get caught by the feds and the detective getting you to crack is too hot to handle... aka your boyfriend wants you to roleplay with him. Overdue - Of all the people to have a crush on you, it had to be the sweetest, most innocent boy in your class, didn’t it? Voice Messages - Your boyfriend just can’t control himself, even when he’s away. #nsfwtwt - one of your moots is a perv lol

Lee Minho 🐱🐰

I’m yours, sir - Your superior just can’t keep his hands off of you, and who are you to deny him? Royalty - The prince is requesting your attendance to his ball(s). Day 2 - 100 days of smut Where you Belong - You go to your church to worship God, but you soon find out who you should really be on your knees for. You Tried - When you tie down Minho while he was sleeping, he’s absolutely furious, but there’s nothing he can do about it. You’re the one in control now… right? Voice Messages - Tour is going on for too long and your boyfriend can’t wait to see you! He literally cannot wait.

Seo Changbin 🐖🐇

Keep Me Warm - Changbin finds a creative way to heat you up in the dead of Winter. Experimental - Your boyfriend, Felix, requests an... interesting birthday gift, but you give in because both of you agree that Changbin is irresistible. (threesome w/ Felix) Bully - this one sucks im sorry Day 3 - 100 days of smut Little Secret - Series - Changbin is your brother’s best friend. He comes over all the time, and you practically grew up together. If only you hadn’t gotten a crush on him. If only he knew how hard you had fallen for him. Boobs - tits. Teacher’s Pet - You gotta get your grades up somehow. Chastity + Sounding - He’s begging to be unlocked, but he doesn’t expect the punishment.

Hwang Hyunjin 🦙🥟

Goodboy - If he wants praise, Hyunjin needs to earn it. Day 4 - 100 days of smut Psycho - Your crazy ex can’t get enough of you. Paperwork - The new CEO of the company you work for needs a companion, and you need a raise. Seems like a win-win. Voice Messages - The memories of you get Jinnie hot and bothered while you’re away.

Han Jisung 🐹🐿️

Punch Drunk Love - Hooking up with a cute boy in your backseat isn’t uncommon for you, but it is for Jisung. Movie Night - You... just... can’t... keep... still! Day 5 - 100 days of smut Pathetic - He’s such a loser. You can’t help but step on him. Sexting - needy Jisung needs his needy girlfriend

Lee Felix 🐥☀️

Dirty Thoughts - He has a crush on you, and he just can’t help having... you get it. Experimental - Your boyfriend, Felix, requests an... interesting birthday gift, but you give in because both of you agree that Changbin is irresistible. (threesome w/ Changbin) Day 6 - 100 days of smut Sinner - part one / part two - You corrupt everyone’s favorite church boy. Lollipop - You need something sweet, and no one is sweeter than Felix. Pegging drabble - felix loves butt stuff Voice Messages - he’s so desperate! please hurry home!

Kim Seungmin 🐶🍒

Anniversary - First smut! - You and your boyfriend prefer carnal gifts over sentimental gifts. Kitten - Everyone thinks he’s a puppy, but you know his true nature. First Kiss - Fluff - A silly accident leads to you confessing to your crush. Day 7 - 100 days of smut Practice - He doesn’t care if you can get caught. He needs you now. Gag Gift - Merry Christmas! Seungmin gets you the gift of being gagged. Caught on Camera - Seungmin wants to preserve the memory of you falling apart in his backseat. Alone Together - You and your boyfriend, Seungmin, are always busy, but you find the time. Voice Messages - A slight argument turns into many heated voicemails.

Yang Jeongin 🦊🍞

Fuckboy - The worst lab partner ever turns into one you can mildly tollerate. Brats - You and Jeongin get in trouble with your dom, Chan (threesome w/ Chan). Day 8 - 100 days of smut Journal - Series - Yang Jeongin babysits your two children, and he’s always been the most polite boy you’ve ever met. Unfortunately for him, he leaves his secret journal at your house one evening, and your curiosity got the better of you. Morning Dew - Soft morning cuddles turns into soft morning sex. #nsfwtwt - your moot is too horny for his own good

OT8/Multiple Members 🧭🌏

Ideal Dates - Fluff - self explanatory rlly Caught - variations of skz finding you naked What they wear - what skz wear in bed What you wear - what skz like you to wear in bed Submissive Skz - self explanatory Dominant Skz - self explanatory Skz Onlyfans - self explanatory Little things you do - things you do during sex that drive them crazy Levels of Stray Kids - Series - skz as soft/hard dom, switches, and soft/dom sub How they sound - the many, many sounds skz make in bed Skz in feminine underwear - Mini Series - their favorite underwear that might be yours Threesomes w/ bf!Chan - Chan invites one of his members to a threesome with you. How does it go?

#masterlist #skz smut #stray kids smut

506 notes · View notes

reginageorgesgirlfriend3020 · 11 months

Text

Taylor Swift head cannons / Taylor Swift adores you

She’s a sweetie

She loves to write songs about you

She even writes poems about you

She loves to playfully poke fun at you when you’re cranky because you’re sleepy

She was playing with your hair while you were falling asleep

Taylor smiled. “Uhh ohhh someone is tiirred!” She said

You rolled your eyes and mumbled, “Oh whatever”.

Taylor giggled. “You’re adorable when you’re sleepy”

She loves when you have to stand on your tippy toes to kiss Taylor

Or even reach the top shelf for the Mariana sauce

Because Taylor gets to hold you in her arms

Shes super protective over you

Like really protective

When your aunts husband tried to hug you and you pulled away

Taylor saw this and spoke up. “Excuse me. Don’t hug her she doesn’t wanna hug you. Come here babe I’ll hug you”. Said Taylor.

Taylor reached her hand out to you and you held her hand with yours

You felt so safe with Taylor

She hates scary movies but she knows you love them

So Taylor will watch the remake of the movie Carrie with you

But she’ll watch the movie with her hand covering her face but peaks through her eyes with her fingers

You wrapped an arm around your girlfriend to let you know she’s safe with you

For movie night you and Taylor baked chocolate chip cookies together and cuddled

She dumped Travis Kelce because he’s too controlling and a little too wild

So when she read your stories about her on Tumblr she gushed over you and your Tumblr stories

So she sent you a message and you and her became friends then best friends

And eventually you became her girlfriend

With you she don’t gotta worry about staying out til 3am partying and maybe sleeping with strippers

She always had to worry about that with Travis

You won her heart with a funny yet romantic story about her

As soon as Taylor arrived at your apartment She opened her arms

you smiled and Jumped in her arms as she catches you

”Hii baby!!” Taylor said all lovingly. She smiled

You smiled too. Hii!!”

And you and Taylor kissed

Eventually she met your family too

And during Christmas Eve she played her guitar and sang a song she wrote about you

You smiled so wide and your family clapped for Taylor

“I love you (Y/n)” Said Taylor

“I love you so much! You have no idea how many times I’ve daydreamed about this moment” You said

Taylor giggled and kissed you on the cheek. “Merry Christmas babe” Said Taylor

She got you the Yeezy knit basketball shoes for you as a Christmas gift

”Oh my god!!” You yelled happily. “Thank you thank you!!” You said. You hugged Taylor as she hugged you tight

#taylor swift x y/n #taylor swift x you #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift headcannons #taylor swift

98 notes · View notes

asgards-princess-of-mischief · 9 months

Text

Last Updated: 2024-02-04

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite BBC!Sherlock Holmes stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

✑ Limerence by galactic-academia • 〔F〕 •

Summary: Five times Sherlock's entourage thought it was the most foolish, awkward friendship in all History, and once Sherlock made it clear that was wrong.

✑ Make Me￨Prt. II￨Prt. III by make-me-imagine • 〔F〕 •

❆ A Night at the Opera by french-vanilla-in-the-clouds • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "It's Christmas Eve on 221B Baker Street, and though everyone is celebrating at the flat, [you leave] the party early after receiving a mysterious text from Sherlock."

❆ Christmas by bitternessismyname • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You love Christmas and want yours and Sherlock's first [Christmas as a couple] to be special; [however, your boyfriend insists on] being a Grinch."

❆ Christmas Party, the by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F〕 •

Summary: After your blows you off, Sherlock offers to escort to your office Christmas Party. As it happens the detective is an excellent date.

✑ Cookie Fail, the by imagine-by-susu • 〔F〕 •

❆ Darling It's Cold Outside by starks-hero • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "A snowstorm falls over London and you're left trapped at 221B with Sherlock. It doesn't sound all that bad, but keeping Sherlock entertained poses as a challenge."

❆ Holmes' Home by generallynerdy • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "A drunk Sherlock had the genius idea of taking you, his girlfriend, to the infamous Holmes home for Christmas."

❆ Making Time by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F〕 •

Summary: {…}

❆ Merry Christmas Sherlock by writingliv • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "Sherlock craves your attention and a bet may just do the trick."

❆ Mistletoe by lykaonimagines • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "When an argument finds Sherlock and [you] under [the] mistletoe… in the center of Scotland Yard, [you take] the moment to spite Anderson... and maybe for some other reasons too."

❆ Mistletoe Test, the by frostandflamesfanfic • 〔E᜶F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "It's your first Christmas at Baker Street and you're determined to make it the best one ever. When [John] tries to warn you about [Sherlock's] aversion to the holidays, you start to see a whole new side to the consulting detective. Will it affect your friendship?"

❆ Shopping Sherlock by spilledkauffie • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Sherlock realises he may have met his match… in Christmas shopping by his fiancé until he finds the perfect gift."

❆ Snow Angels by make-me-imagine • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: It's the first snow and you drag Sherlock outside to play in the snow with you.

❆ Where Are the Mistletoe? by pinkthink • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Although your relationship with Sherlock is still relatively new and he still has a lot to learn about how people interact with one another, the two of you are beginning to understand each other better, even if Sherlock did believe that he should attach mistletoes so that he could kiss you whenever he wanted."

❆ A Case of Mistletoe & Presents by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ A Thousand Wishes by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Can I Hold Your Hand? by geeks-universe • 〔F〕 •

❆ Cuddles and Unruly Curls by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Cute Together by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ First Snow of December by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Sidewalks of London by french-vanilla-in-the-clouds • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Surprise Presents by dyns33 • 〔F〕 •

❆ Winter Wonderland by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Drinking Sherlock's Spiked Punch… by theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Christmas at 221B Baker St… by strrvnge • 〔F〕 •

❆ Christmas Shopping w/ Sherlock… by geeks-universe • 〔F〕 •

See Also: Navigation || BBC!Sherlock Master Index

Authors: @bakerstreethound || @bitternessismyname || @dyns33 || @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds || @frostandflamesfanfic || @galactic-academia || @geeks-universe || @generallynerdy || @imagine-by-susu || @lykaonimagines || @make-me-imagine || @pinkthick || @prettyxlittlexwriter || @spilledkauffie || @starks-hero || @strrvnge || @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction || @writingliv || @writings-of-a-british-fangirl ||

#Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader #Sherlock Holmes x Y/N #Sherlock Holmes x You #Sherlock x Reader #Sherlock x Female Reader

32 notes · View notes

13uswntimagines · 2 years

Text

Bah Humbug (Soran x Reader)

Summary: R really really hates Christmas. So much so that she's kinda known as a Grinch. Can a person from her past (and 3 ghosts) help her change her fate?

Basically, it's a story based off of Charles Dicken's Christmas Carol. I hope you enjoy it.

Author's note: I know it's after Christma, but happy holidays everyone. I hope you enjoy this crazy thing out of my head. Feel free to hit me up with comments and requests.

You glared at your phone, taking a long sip of your beer.

The team knew you didn’t celebrate the holidays, and having your crushes call you to try and con you into attending the annual party was a low blow. Your teammates knew how difficult it was to resist them.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t picked up.

You didn’t anticipate them leaving a message.

“Hey, you’re busy and that’s probably why you didn’t pick up, but I just wanted to remind you about the team party,” Emily’s voice rang through the phone.

You noted the distinct lack of mention that it was a holiday party.

“I know you’re not the biggest fan of Christmas, but I would love to see you there and Lindsey and the rest of the team would too,” Emily finished.

You took another long sip of your beer, playing the message again.

It wasn’t fair for your teammates to use your feelings against you.

If it had been a New Years’ party, or literally anything else you would have gone. But you absolutely could not. Would not. Support any stupid Christmas traditions.

You had even denied the invite via Megan’s stupid survey. It has taken you nearly half an hour to scroll through the 50 questions about alcohol and desert preferences to pick the option labeled- I’m a grinch who doesn’t like fun and has a heart 2 sizes too small to attend.

It was bad enough that you couldn’t even have peace in your own home, not with your neighbor and all his holiday cheer.

Why did he have to blast the music so loud that it drowned out your soccer replay? Why did he have to send his wife down to offer you some Christmas pudding? People already looked at you funny when you explained you didn’t love the nation's favorite holiday. You just wanted to be able to have your non-celebration in your own home.

“Shut up,” You groaned at a particularly loud cheer from the floor above you, tossing your remote so it thumped against the ceiling. “Just let me eat my frozen pizza in peace,”

What gave them the right to be so loud and merry?

There were still homeless people on the streets, children going hungry, and men fighting over who owned land that was never theirs to own.

Part of your problem with Christmas was that all it appeared to be was an excuse for rich people to get richer, people to get drunk at parties, and those with bad intentions to take advantage.

You waited a few more minutes, reaching for another beer as the music only grew louder. With a sigh you threw your remote a little harder, praying that your neighbor would quiet down.

You glared when your phone rang again.

Why couldn’t anyone get the fucking message? You didn’t want to be a part of the Christmas celebrations or their stupid money-grabbing intentions.

“What?” You grumbled into the phone.

“Is that any way to greet your favorite team mom?” Kelley asked, and you rolled your eyes.

Preath were your team moms, but Kelley had stepped in when you were traded to Washington, and you loved her nearly as much as you loved them.

“You're not my favorite, Christen is,” You scoffed, taking a large gulp of your beer. “And you’re only calling me to convince me to come to the stupid party,”

Kelley sighed heavily over the line. In all the time she had known you, you had never even tried to be merry. “Come on kid, why don’t you try to get into the Christmas spirit,”

“No,” You snapped. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it,”

“But Emily and Lindsey will be there, and Megan’s even putting up an insane amount of mistletoe just for you,” Alex’s voice chimed in, sounding farther away than her girlfriend. “Just come for a little while. You don’t even have to dance to the music. it’ll be fun,”

“I said no. I don’t celebrate Christmas,” You ground out. “Mistletoe is an invasive, parasitic, poisonous species that could kill you,”

“You don’t have to be such a Scrooge,” You could hear Kelley’s frown.

“Well, bah fucking humbug,” You huffed.

“I know things have been tough since Tyler-“ Alex started, but you cut her off with a thunderous growl. “Don’t you dare mention my brother,”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “We never celebrated Christmas either,” you hung up before either of your stand-in parents could say another word.

You didn’t care what they had to say. You just wanted to have your little non-celebration in peace. You didn’t want to think about your non-existent family. Or the memories that came with this stupid fucking holiday.

You closed your eyes tightly, listening idly to the sounds of the party above you.

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time

“Shut up!” you yelled louder this time, grabbing a broom and banging on your ceiling. “Keep your Yule Tidings to yourself!”

There was some banging on the floor above you before the music got impossibly louder, and you swore you heard a “don’t be such a grinch”

You sighed.

You were different from the grinch. You hated the holiday and everything it stood for. Not the people.

And there was no way you would be carving up the roast beast.

But maybe…

You clicked into your messages, your fingers hovering over the group chat you shared with Lindsey and Emily.

It took you a minute to click out a message.

Be safe tonight you two. Try not to have too much fun without me.

And another long minute to hit the send key.

It took less than 30 seconds for your phone to ping with their reply.

You could make sure we were safe if you came

You shook your head at Lindsey’s words, immediately closing your phone and standing from the couch, and heading towards your room. You knew you could be with them, but you didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to bring down their night with your negativity.

You heard your phone ding again as you crawled into bed, but you didn’t feel like answering, hoping to just sleep the holidays away.

*****

You weren’t sure what woke you up, but one second you were asleep and the next you were not.

It was like a cold wind had blown through your bedroom, whipping your blanket off of you and slamming your bedroom door with a clap.

“What the fuck?” You hissed, sitting up in bed, searching for your stolen quilt.

“Didn’t know you had inherited my sailor's mouth,”

You sucked in a breath at the familiar voice, and your entire being froze. You hadn’t heard his voice since-

You didn’t want to think about it.

Still, your eyes searched the room for the source of the sound, fully expecting the television to be playing an old home movie.

But it was oddly blank. “What the fuck?”

“Come on kid, I thought you were sharper than this,” The voice chuckled, and your head snapped toward the noise.

“No,” You breathed out as you took in his form, his wide smile and beaming features coated in a strange white mist. “You died four years ago. You can’t be here,”

He hummed. “I told them you would be suspicious,”

You shook your head, standing and beginning to pace.

“Maybe it was something in the beer,” You mumbled, rubbing your hands through your hair. “I shouldn’t have switched brands,”

“It’s not the beer,” Your brother shrugged, stepping from his place in the doorway to sit on the edge of your bed.

“It has to be!” You hissed, sending him your best glare.

Ghosts were not real. Dead relatives didn’t visit you at night.

You had to be hallucinating, or high, or have a brain tumor creating him.

“It’s not.” He shrugged again, his easy smile never leaving his face. That just made you angrier. How could he smile when you were probably having a mental breakdown? How could he be happy?

He watched you cross the room a few times, shaking his head.

“Why don’t you sit down so we can talk for a moment? I don’t have an unlimited amount of time,”

You huffed. “How can you be so calm at a time like this?”

“This isn’t my first visit to you, just the first time you’ve been able to acknowledge me,” He said softly, his voice still semi-amused, gesturing towards the bed opposite of him. “Sit, before you pull a muscle or something,”

You very slowly made your way to the spot, carefully sitting down on the bed, your eyes taking in every inch of your visitor. Your older brother had never been so pale. You also noted the dark circles under his grey eyes, and how his hair was more tousled than usual. But other than that it was him, and he was completely fine, sitting across from you in his signature bomber jacket.

“You’re really here,” You breathed out, the ever-present ache in your chest easing for just a second.

He nodded, reaching out to cover your hand with his.“I am,”

It was a strange sensation, like ice and tingles where he had touched you. It didn’t fill you with the warmth you always remembered.

You pulled your hand away, curling it to your chest. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve come to warn you,” Tyler said, his voice nothing more than a conspiratorial whisper.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “This isn’t some Christmas carol hoax about me forging a chain I’ll have to wear in death, is it? You didn’t celebrate Christmas either and you don’t have one,”

“No,” Your brother sent you a rye smile. “but there are different kinds of chains Y/n,”

He held up his wrist to show you what looked like a handcuff.

You frowned, shaking your head. “I adopt an angel every year. I send money to the shelter down the road. I don’t know what else you people want from me,”

You did everything you could to make the world a better place. The only thing you refused to do was celebrate a stupid holiday. That didn’t stop you from donating or making kids’ dreams come true.

That should be enough.

Your brother's eyes tightened. “You’re here alone on Christmas Eve,”

“So?” You shrugged.

The only difference from your normal celebrations was that he hadn’t been there to share it with you.

“Y/n it is too late to change my fate, to relinquish the curse I must face every year of watching those I love, but it’s not late to change yours,”

His shoulders squared and his voice turned deep, and suddenly you knew that the next words he was about to speak were not his own. “Tonight you will be visited by 3 spirits. The ghosts of Christmas Past, Christmas Present, and Christmas yet to come. Take heed to what they say. It may be your last chance,”

He stood to leave without another word, and you mirrored his actions, practically launching yourself at him.

“Wait!” you yelped, latching onto his cold hand.

“Hmm,” his eyes turned back to you, but they were more distant than before.

“I-“ you gulped. “I miss you,”

He smiled, shaking his hand from your grasp, and placing it on your heart. “Remember bug, we’re always with you,”

With one last sad, longing smile he disappeared.

*****

You were restless, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Part of you was still trying to convince yourself that your bothers… visit was a figment of drunk yous imagination. The other part was anxiously awaiting for the clock to strike 12 and for the first “ghost” to appear.

You had never been superstitious. You had laughed at ghost stories and shrugged off tales of apparitions, deeming them as tales meant to scare children. But still, you wondered what this… ghost would look like. What they would do. And most of all how it would try to persuade you that Christmas wasn’t some oversold, over-hyped holiday designed to make people go into debt.

Your eyes followed the minute hand of the clock, tracking as it finally landed on 12.

You held your breath, waiting for something to happen.

But as the minute hand moved again and the seconds ticked by there was… nothing.

There was no jiggle of your door handle, or uninvited visitor standing at the foot of your bed. There wasn’t even the flutter of a curtain.

“It was the beer,” you sighed, laying back on your bed, and letting out a chuckle. You closed your eyes, content to sleep the miserable holiday away.

“It wasn’t,”

Your eyes snapped open and you leaped out of the bed, turning to face your unwanted intruder.

“Easy slugger,” The woman on the bed laughed, an eerie glow surrounding her entire body, lighting up your room.

You froze, your gaze flickering between the woman’s face and the signed jersey that lived on your wall. “Mia?” You asked, earning a chuckle from the retired forward.

“Not quite, young one. I am the ghost of Christmas Past,” Her smile was wide, warm, and welcoming.

You frowned, your eyebrows furrowing. “Then why are you shaped like Mia Hamm?”

“I’ve come to you in a form you are more open to accepting. Your idol,” The ghost explained softly, still perched casually on your bed, holding out her sleeve to you.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing and crossing your arms across your chest. “So you’re just gonna take me through the history of Christmas in hopes of changing my heart?”

The ghost smiled wryly at you as if she expected that reaction. “I am the ghost of not all Christmases past, just your past,”

“Oh,” You deflated.

“Come young one, grab my sleeve and we will begin our journey,”

You sighed, closing your eyes tightly as your fingers reached for the robe.

You had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy this.

****

You blew out a long breath as your feet met the ground, your slippers crunching on freshly fallen snow.

Snow you hadn’t seen since you moved to Orlando.

You blinked up at the scene, taking in the bricks, rod iron, and sloping lawn of the mansion you had called home.

The angels at the gate were coated in a thin layer of white powder, along with the fountain in the center of the drive.

It was an image ingrained into your head that you knew would never leave. An image you hadn’t seen since your 11th Christmas.

But how were you here? You couldn’t be here…

“Are we where I think we are?” You asked Mia slowly, dragging your wide eyes away from your childhood home.

“We are,” She nodded once. “Our Christmas journey begins with one of your best Christmases. Shall we go inside,”

You gulped but headed towards the gate nonetheless. Your fingers shook as they unlatched the little lock (shaped like a rose) and you slipped through both it and the door to the house.

You couldn’t help but smile at the warm air that wafted towards you as you stepped into the foyer of the house, and its distinct smell of cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven.

It curled around you like a hug from her, and you could feel the tightness in your chest that always accompanied it.

Mia’s hand on your shoulder was the only thing that prevented you from stepping backward, away from the feelings that you had run from for so long.

“Your family is gathered in the den,” She said softly, “Shall we join them, or do you need a minute?”

You cleared your throat. You shouldn’t feel so choked up just from the smell of cinnamon rolls. It was stupid, but your mother had made them every Christmas morning, and you and your brother had eaten them together with hot chocolate. It was a core memory that just hurt so much now.

“I’m fine,” You muttered, pushing yourself forward and into the den.

You ignored the ache in your chest at the lights that littered the walls, and the tree that stood proudly in the corner. But you couldn’t help the feeling that opened in the pit of your stomach when you saw a younger version of yourself settle between your brother and your mother.

You could remember that Christmas vividly. It was the last real Christmas your family had spent together as a family.

“I think it’s Ty’s turn,” Your father smiled jovially, holding up a camcorder as your other brother reached for his next box.

It was small, wrapped in red paper, and clumsily tied with a bow. Your eight-year-old self had been so proud to have wrapped it alone for the first time. Looking back at it, you really should have let your mother help you, but no one commented on the sloppy job.

“I wonder who this one could be from,” Tyler smiled, bumping your shoulder lightly as a blush colored your cheeks.

“It’s from me,” Your younger self mumbled, looking away, embarrassed. “I picked it out myself,”

“I don’t know why I was so nervous,” You hummed, stepping closer to the couch.

Mia shrugged. “It was the first gift you had ever decided to buy. You put a lot of thought into it,”

Tyler very carefully undid the bow, and slowly lifted the messy red paper off of the box, and both you and your younger self watched him with rapt attention as he flipped open the lid on the box to reveal an Arsenal beanie.

“It was his favorite team,” You countered, your eyes never leaving the way he immediately slipped it onto his head and pulled younger you into a hug. “It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to like it,”

‘No,” Mia agreed. “But your younger self also didn’t realize that it was the thought that counts either,”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek as your mother passed younger you your last box. “I didn’t understand that the presents weren’t the thing that mattered yet,”

You knew exactly what was in that box.

Your younger self was much less systematic than your brother as she tore off the paper golden, revealing the plain box beneath it. It wasn’t until she peeked under the lid that she paused, her jaw dropped staring at her family.

“I didn’t learn that lesson until the year after this one,” You muttered as your eight-year-old self ripped the top of the box and held up a signed Mia Hamm jersey. You winced as your younger self launched yourself at your mother.

You watched for any sign, any wobble from her.

“She didn’t know she was sick yet,” Mia hummed gently as if she were reading your mind, and you reasoned that she may have been. She was a ghost after all.

You cleared your throat, shaking your head as young as you tugged the jersey over your head. “I was a dumbass for putting it on. It should have gone directly in the frame,”

“You were excited,” Mia reminded you gently, the hand on your shoulder comforting you more than it should have. “It was everything you had ever wanted,”

“I would have appreciated not getting a stain right above the crest on the chest,” You shrugged. “Thinking back on it now, I had everything I wanted. I didn’t need a jersey for that. God only knows how much my father paid for that,”

“Is money all you think about?” Mia asked you softly.

Your eyes tightened at the question.

“No,” You ground the word out through clenched teeth. Money was all your father thought about. You were nothing like your father. “I just wonder how much good could have been done instead-”

“Of giving you a core childhood memory?” Mia countered, not allowing you to finish your thought.

You bit your lip, holding in the biting remark on the tip of your tongue. You didn’t like being interrupted, or being contradicted.

“The memory would have been fine without the jersey,” You grumbled, averting your eyes from your younger self as your mother pressed a kiss to your forehead. “The core experience was about being with them, not some stupid present,”

Mia hummed, watching you carefully.

Your younger self pulled away, smiling widely at your mother. “I love Christmas,”

“And I love you,” She smiled back.

You gulped down the pain in your chest, using the corner of your old West Virginia sleeve to wipe away the liquid forming in the corner of your eye. Christmas had been your favorite for a long time.

Until it wasn’t. Until you learned its true meaning.

You forced your gaze from the scene, and back towards Mia. “I don’t want to be here anymore,”

She nodded once. “Grab my sleeve,”

*******

Dim lights met you as your eyes flickered open, the yellow glow of the fire illuminating a solitary form curled up in front of it.

The form shivered, despite its closeness to the blazing hearth, pulling the fraying red blanket tighter around itself.

Yourself.

The Christmas tree that had dominated the living room was gone, as were the garland and light strings that hung from the ceiling. The only indication that it was near Christmas was the sound of Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time buzzing softly through an old radio.

You remembered this night just as well as you had your last stop, even better. You remembered your thoughts as you stared into the fire, how you cursed the universe or any god that may or may not have been listening. You remembered wishing that every radio station wasn’t playing things that reminded you of her, but you couldn’t live with your racing thoughts enough to sit in silence.

It was the first time you had ever really hated Christmas.

“You look lonely,” Mia commented, and you jumped slightly. You had almost forgotten that she was there.

“I couldn’t go to the hospital,” You breathed out, your voice shaking with the effort it took to hold back your emotions. “She tried to make us our Christmas cinnamon rolls and collapsed,”

You shook your head. You had been the one to ask for them. She hadn’t been able to get out of bed long enough the year before to make them, and you missed them. She waved off your father's concern and nodded at you with a chapped-lipped smile.

Mia’s hand landed warm and heavy on your shoulder, but you brushed her off, taking a step closer to your younger self.

You didn’t need the comfort now, you had needed it back then, and no one was there. The least you could do was help yourself.

You slowly reached out a hand, rubbing the spot on the back of your younger self's neck that you knew would soothe her. “It hurts now, but you’ll be alright,”

“She can’t hear or feel you,” Mia interrupted you, standing on your younger self's other side.

You glared up at her, a barbed quip on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t get to use it.

“Hey, munchkin,” Tyler’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, and your youngest self’s head snapped around to see him.

He smiled sadly down at you, and you moved so he could sit beside your younger self in front of the hearth.

Tyler’s arm wrapped around your shoulder and you tucked your face into the warm skin of his neck.

“This is all my fault,” Your younger self breathed out miserably, and you saw the tears creeping down Tyler’s neck.

“No,” Tyler said firmly, coaxing you out of his neck so he could look you in the eyes. “Mom was sick,”

You shook your head, more tears streaming down your face. “But if I hadn’t asked for cinnamon roll-”

“She probably would have had to go to the hospital anyway,” He countered, using a thumb to wipe your tears away.

You frowned as you watched them, the smell of Tyler’s calone fresh in your mind. The way his hugs had always made you feel whole. How you trusted him that it would all be alright.

You didn’t know that your mother was dying in a hospital bed. You had believed him.

Your younger self touched her face into Tyler’s shoulder, and he held you tighter.

“He didn’t tell me that we couldn’t afford the surgery or the treatments that would save her,” You mumbled bitterly. “Or that the treatments probably wouldn’t have helped her anyway,”

You turned away from the scene towards Mia. “I don’t want to be here,”

She nodded once, holding out her sleeve, and the scene disappeared around you in a blur of color.

*****

Your knees wobbled as you landed in the living room of your apartment, and your hand tightened around Mia’s arm as you tried to get your footing. You used your arm to wipe your sleeve across your eyes.

Brushing away the evidence of one of your worst Christmases.

“Take some deep breaths,” Mia said softly, her hand landing warm and heavy on your shoulder.

You nodded, sucking in a wet breath through your nose.

“Why did you have to show me that?” You asked, glaring at the woman.

“Because it’s one of the reasons you hate Christmas,” She answered, not wavered by your sudden anger. “Because you can’t see that you don’t have to hate,”

“Nothing but bad things happen on Christmas,” You spat back, ripping yourself out of her grasp.

“Tyler didn’t seem to think so,” She said.

Your glare deepened.

It wasn’t a fair statement. Yes, Tyler had never lost his joy like you had.

And neither had you really, not until Christmas four years ago.

“He did his best,” You reluctantly conceded.

“You made your own traditions,” She hummed, waving her hand.

The blurry scenery around you shifted to your apartment. A younger version of you was standing in the kitchen, carefully sliding a pizza out of the oven to sit on the counter next to your beer bottle.

You frowned at the soft glow of Christmas lights and the sound of an old World Cup playing in the background.

There was a warmth in the apartment that had been missing since…

You shook your head.

You didn’t like to think about that night. That Christmas.

“Hey kid,” Tyler said, knocking on the kitchen counter as he approached you, the Arsenal beanie perched on his head.

You carefully set the pizza down, smiling widely at him. “What's up?”

You could practically feel the excitement radiation off of you. It wasn’t like the Christmas of your youth, nothing had been the same after your mother died, but you and Tyler had found your own way to enjoy the holiday.

His mirroring smile was pained, and his fingers tapped the counter like he was nervous. “Dad called,”

Your nose scrunched. “What did he want?”

You hadn’t spoken to him since you moved out to go to college.

After your mother died, he turned to a bottle to ease his pain, and in the process, he inflicted his pain on you. His jovial heart had turned cold, and you had scars from him that you would never outgrow.

“It was his nurse at hospice,” Tyler amended quietly. His voice held an unusual edge. “They don’t think he’s going to make it through the night,”

You blinked up at him, your shoulders lifting and falling. “So?”

Tyler sighed, grabbing your wrist gently so you would look up at him instead of focusing on where you were slicing the pizza.

“I know he’s made some mistakes-”

“He abused me,” You scoffed, interrupting him. “That’s not a mistake,”

Your voice held no room for argument. It couldn’t, not with all that he had done.

A mistake was one incident. One accidental laying of hands.

Your father in his grief had surpassed that hundreds if not thousands of times. The thick, raised scars on your back were evidence of that, as were the sounds of his sneering voice in your ear.

“He’s our father,” Your brother said sternly but you were already shaking your head.

“He made his choice,”

Your voice was bitter, cold. It sent a shiver down present-day you’s spine.

Tyler blew out another long breath, pushing himself away from the counter. “It’s his dying wish,”

You followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“And he can take it to his grave,” You spat the words. As far as you were condemned, you didn’t owe him anything.

Tyler rolled his eyes, pulling on his boots. “Don’t be cruel Y/n, It doesn’t suit you,”

You watched him with disbelief as he pulled on his boots, and stood up to grab his jacket.

“You can't seriously be going to see him,” You said, following after him. “He’s an asshole,”

“Everyone deserves to have their dying wish heard,” He said, his voice sounding more like a dad than your own father’s had. “Are you coming or not?”

It made you want to soften, but you didn’t.

“So I can tell him to burn in hell?” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“Y/n,” He sighed. “Don’t do it for him, do it for yourself. Closure is important,”

Your lip curled. “I got my closure the first time he picked up a belt, or threw a Christmas tree out the window, or-,”

“I’ll be back, don't have too much fun without me,” Tyler cut you off, wrapping his scarf around his neck, giving you a very quick hug, and heading out the door. It slammed behind him, and he was gone.

You stared at your younger self as she stared at the door.

It was the last time you would ever see your brother alive. The last time you would see his smile or feel his hugs that had always set you at ease.

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time hummed in the background, and you longed to wrap your younger self up in your arms.

“I wish I had told him I loved him,” You mumbled as your younger self turned on her heel and headed back toward her pizza.

Mia’s warm hand found your shoulder again. “You didn’t have to say it for him to know,”

You brushed her off, tired of her and what she was showing you. “I still wish I said it,”

Tyler was too good of a person. He wanted to make everyone happy.

And I’m his effort to give your Father Christmas Joy, he had lost his life.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,”

Mia held up her sleeve and you grabbed on. The world tilted on its head and suddenly one of the worst nights of your life was gone.

All you had learned was that you hated Christmas for a good reason. Only bad things happened on Christmas.

******

You jolted upright, breathing heavily as your eyes opened. Your hands clutched your wet shirt, soaked through with sweat, and your eyes darted around your room, searching for the ghost of Mia Hamm who only showed you your worst memories.

Your breathing slowed as you realized you were alone.

“It was just a dream,” You ran a hand through your damp curls. “I really shouldn’t have switched beer brands,”

“No, you shouldn’t mix brands because it destroys the flavor,”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the voice, leaping out of the bed and whipping around to see one Kelley O’Hara sitting on your bed, dressed in an ugly Christmas sweater that resembled a Christmas tree.

“What the fuck Kelley,” You grumbled incredulously at the defender. “What are you doing here? How did you get into my apartment?”

“I’m not Kelley,” She smiled devilishly at you, crossing one leg over the other, a perfect imitation of one of your team moms. “Ghost of Christmas present, happy to make your acquaintance,”

She held her hand out for you to take.

You stared at the outstretched fingers warily.

“Are you here to make me feel worse?” You asked cautiously.

The defender shook her head, her dimples showing. “I’m just here to show you what you’re missing,”

You sighed, throwing your head back. “Can we not and say we did? I’ll go to the stupid Christmas party next year,”

Kelley chuckled, and you heard her stand from the bed. “I’m afraid not,”

“It was worth a shot,” You grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose and looking back at the woman. The amused smile hadn’t left her lips.

“Ready?”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

The truth was that you weren’t ready. You didn’t want to be stuck in this scrooge-like dream. You didn’t want to see what you were missing.

You didn’t like Christmas, and it annoyed you that even your brain wouldn’t let you wallow in peace.

“Let’s get this shit over with,”

She snorted, stepping forward and gently grabbing your arm. “It won’t be too bad, don’t worry,”

The colors in your bedroom blurred and you felt a now familiar tug in your stomach as your world shifted.

At least this ghost seemed happier.

*****

Immediate warmth filled your chest as you opened your eyes to the scene, leaning heavily on Kelley as the world shifted into focus.

Glasses tinkled and the laughter of your friends filled your ears. The smell of cinnamon and cherries filled the air and it felt like home. You didn’t even mind simply having a wonderful Christmas time blaring in the background.

You couldn’t help the way your lips lifted. You doubted the sounds of your found family would ever not have the power to make you smile.

“You totally cheated,” Emily grumbled, flicking her Uno cards toward Lindsey.

The midfielder shook her head, cackling. “I didn’t, I’m just better at this than you are,”

“I figured your two favorite blondes would make you smile,” Kelley cheered, clapping your shoulder and making you jump. “Christmas pastey told me you were in a bad mood,”

Your smile morphed into a scowl. “She made me relive two of my worst memories,”

“She was trying to show you that the people you loved wouldn’t want you to be alone on Christmas,” Ghost Kelley countered as regular Kelley returned to the room, carrying drinks.

The defender passed the filled solo cups about. “As much fun as uno is, I think an actual game is called for here,”

Lindsey leaned down and sniffed the cup, scrunching her nose. “What did you put in here, jet fuel?”

Emily cackled again, even as Alex, Kelley, and Megan shook their heads.

“No, it’s the special Christmas mix,” Tobin supplied easily. “Kelley makes it every year,”

“She thinks it’ll make us more honest during never have I ever,” Christen added, winking at the blonde pair.

“I didn’t know they played never have I ever on Christmas,” You mumbled, leaning towards one of the red solo cups and taking a whiff of your own. Your nose wrinkled at the smell.

It was definitely something more potent than her normal mix. You caught a hint of Jamison and vermouth, and something… cinnamony.

Fireball you thought ruefully. She made them fireball manhattans, stronger than ones they could ever get in a bar.

“Why would you?” Ghost Kelley chuckled, “You’ve never attended a Christmas party with them, even while your brother was still alive,”

“I didn’t want to be around the holiday cheer,” You hissed. This ghost was as insufferable as the first was. “And my brother and I had traditions of our own,”

“Yes, I’m sure eating a frozen pizza and watching a World Cup from 1950 is the best way to spend a Christmas,” Ghost Kelley rolled her eyes. “So much better than being surrounded by people who love you,”

“It’s just easier” You hissed back. “It doesn’t hurt as much,”

Being around your friends at Christmas reminded you of what your life was like before your mother died. It reminded you about how much you loved the lights, the colors, and the joy.

It felt like you were betraying her memory.

Ghost Kelley raised an eyebrow at you. “All it does is let you wallow in your past pain instead of making new, happy memories,”

Lindsey put her glass down. “I think I’ll pass, I promised Y/n that we would be safe tonight, and one of us has to drive,”

“She really cares about you two,” Christen said gently.

Lindsey and Emily shared a meaningful look.

“We know,” Emily said softly, her face falling just a bit. “We were hoping she would come, so we could… talk about our developing feelings,”

“I even hung up an extra mistletoe in case,” Lindsey added, gesturing towards the archway between the kitchen and the living room.

You frowned. “Why would they think I would come?”

“It’s not you guys, trust us,” Alex hummed, sipping her drink.

“Y/n just hates Christmas,” Megan added, rolling her eyes. “She basically locks herself away every year with a frozen pizza and a case of beer,”

“At least she’s got a good reason,” Christen muttered, sending a meaningful look toward Megan.

Christen was the one to find you the night your brother died. The one who held you after you identified your brother.

After you said goodbye.

“They thought you would come because they were hoping you would want to be with them,” Ghost Kelley said, and your eyes snapped to her half-smile.

“She doesn’t have to be such a grinch about how much she hates it though,” Megan scoffed, leaning back against Sue’s legs. “She dunked My speakers at practice because I was playing Christmas music,”

“And she tossed my hat when I asked her to pick a secret Santa and gave me a lecture on how Santa was a figment created by toy companies and parents to scare children and make money,” Real Kelley added.

“But why?” Lindsey asked, her voice edging too far on desperate for you to feel comfortable.

Both she and Emily had been warned of your aversion to the holiday, but no one seemed willing to expand on it.

You hadn’t been willing to expand on it, even if they could tell that it was something that caused you great pain.

An uncomfortable quiet swept around the circle of soccer players as the vets shared looks.

“Her mother and her brother both died on Christmas,” Christen explained finally.

“and her dad made the ones in between that hell,” Tobin finished, sipping her red cup. “She’s convinced it’s a horrible holiday designed to pray on people’s pain,”

“She’s living in the past,” Alex added. “and no matter how hard we try, we can’t drag her into the present,”

“I do want to be with them,” You growled.

“Then why aren’t you here?” Ghost Kelley asked, cocking her head to the side.

“I get that kid doesn’t like Christmas, but she doesn’t have to make it miserable for the rest of us,” The real Kelley added softly, earning a slap on the shoulder from Alex. She raised her hands in defense. “What it’s true! She’s impossible about everything when it comes to Christmas,”

“I didn’t go because I didn’t want to make anyone have to share in my gloom,” You muttered towards ghost Kelley, sending a waving gesture towards the room. “Because it’s a kindness to allow them to be happy. It can only happen without me,”

“I’m going to go get water,” Lindsey muttered, standing from the couch.

“Well that’s a bummer,” Ghost Kelley cackled, flicking the side of your head. “Must you always be so much of a downer? Your frown is going to give you premature wrinkles,”

“Why couldn’t my ghost of Christmas present be Christen,” You grumbled, pushing yourself up from your couch’s arm, following after the midfielder. “She’s so much understanding,”

Ghost Kelley smirked, pushing herself off the wall to walk in time with you towards the kitchen. “Ghost Christen was unavailable, something about a vacation with ghost Tobin,”

You rolled your eyes, pressing on the swinging door of the kitchen. You heard Emily’s “I'm gonna go check on her,” from behind you.

“Good to know that they’re just as gross in the ghost world,” You muttered, your eyes landing on Lindsey as you stepped into the kitchen.

She was far too focused on the pitcher, filling a red solo cup with water.

You sighed, reaching out a hand towards her shoulder, longing to comfort her, even if you didn’t understand exactly why she was sad.

“She can’t feel you or hear you,” Kelley reminded you, her voice going gentle.

You gulped, drawing your hand back before it could run through the midfielder's silky hair.

“Why is she upset?” You asked, just as Emily slowly pushed open the door, leaning on the counter.

“You alright?” Emily questioned, her worried eyes following Lindsey’s form.

The midfielder gulped but nodded. “I’m ok, it was just a lot out there,”

“We both knew holidays would be a challenge,” Emily hummed. “She was pretty upfront with her hang-ups,”

“I know,” Lindsey mumbled, her voice cracking. “I just… I didn’t know that the reason why would break my heart so much,”

You frowned.

“She’s so sweet, but all she can see in my favorite holiday is death and destruction,” the midfielder continued. “And she’s not open to seeing anything else,”

“Babe,” Emily whispered, stepping past you and wrapping her arms around Lindsey’s waist. The midfielder turned into her, burying her face in Emily’s shoulder.

Her back shook with the force of her tears, and you were left speechless.

She was crying. For you. Because things had happened to you, and you couldn’t let it go.

It made your chest ache.

“Don’t worry,” Emily said, rubbing Lindsey’s back, shushing her gently. “She’ll come around. Maybe we can head over to her apartment after tomorrow, and bring her Thai food or something. It’ll be like a tradition of our own,”

Lindsey sniffled, but you saw her nod at the idea. “She’ll like that,”

“I would too,” Emily agreed.

You stepped back from the woman, unable to tear your eyes away.

They were willing to make a new tradition, just for you.

“Seems like you picked two good ones,” Ghost Kelley said, her lips very close to your ear.

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the feeling, whipping around to face her, the kitchen blurring around you as you did.

Her smirk shifted from playful to something more… mocking. Unfriendly. “Willing to give up their traditions to make you feel more comfortable. But you're not willing to do the same for them are you?”

“I’m…I,” You stuttered, your eyebrows furrowing.

She held up her hand to silence you. “My time with you is short I’m afraid. I don’t have any to spare for our banter,”

With that, she turned on her heel, and it was all you could do to keep us as you stumbled after her, through the door and into-

Not Kelley's apartment. It was a long, dark cobblestone alleyway covered in shadows.

*****

“Where are we?” You said, tripping over your feet as you tried to keep up with ghost Kelley.

She seemed on a mission. You knew the defender was fast in real life, but this felt like an entirely new level. You felt drunk, unable to keep your feet underneath you as you staggered beside her.

“The present,” Kelley said as if it was obvious.

You rolled your eyes at her wit, familiar and different all the same. “But where?”

“To show you what you have that you don’t appreciate,” Kelley waved her hand, stopping short and not giving you enough time to stop before you rammed into her.

You recoiled away from her. “Wasn’t that the point of showing me the stupid Christmas party?”

“No. That was to show you what you’re missing. This.” Ghost Kelley said shortly, waving her hand again. “This is to show you how ungrateful you are,”

Light spilled from the lanterns hanging on the walls, chasing away the shadows. It pushed away the darkness, illuminating a small family, huddled together to get out of the cold.

You stared at the mother, holding a child no older than 4 in her lap.

“Shh honey, it’ll be alright,” She hummed, rocking the child.

You couldn’t help the anger that bubbled up in your chest. The rage that no one was listening to you.

Just because you hated Christmas didn’t mean you were selfish.

You wheeled around, taking an angry step toward ghost Kelley.

“I’m fucking tired of this,” You growled. “I donate to charity every year. I give to the angel tree. I fucking give out Turkey dinners to the homeless. What else do you people want from me,”

Kelley smirked. “They told me you were smart, but I’m beginning to wonder,”

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off, stepping too close to you, one hand catching the collar of your shirt and shoving you backward.

Your back hit the cold brick wall, and for the first time, it felt like a ghost in front of you instead of your very first team mom.

“You are not living,” She snarled. “You have friends who love you. A family you found, yet you act like everything was taken from you,”

You pressed into her hand. “Everything was taken from me. A stupid disease took my mother, grief took my father and a drunk driver coming home from a Christmas party took my brother. That’s all this fucking holiday does. Take!”

“It didn’t have to take you,” Kelley said, bitterness clear in her voice. “You gave up your joy willingly,”

Your teeth mashed together at the implication that your misery was your own fault.

“Your chain is not defined by greed and ignorance, but instead loneliness and grief,” She hissed, pressing you into the wall, her lips curling to reveal sharp teeth in a way that the real Kelley’s would never. “Forged by your unwillingness to live rather than exist,”

She pushed you again against the cold brick, before stepping away.

Your fingers fell to your collar, straightening the crumpled material. “You want me to forget. To pretend,”

Ghost Kelley paused, her shoulders rolling as she turned back to you, her eyes hard, unfriendly.

“No.” She said slowly, her shows clicking as she took a menacing step towards you.“We want you to understand the difference between remembering and wallowing in your pain,”

Her finger found its way to your chest, and she leaned in close to you again. “You waste the care people have for you. You must change before they lose it and you lose them,”

The finger on your chest shoved hard, enough for you to stumble back. You expected to hit the wall, but you didn’t.

Before you knew it, you were falling.

*****

“Oof,”

Your breath left your lips as your back contacted the ground, and white, powdery snow billowed around you. Your hands fell to your stomach, as you sucked in as much air as you could get, hoping to calm your racing heart.

At least Mia had helped you calm down before she banished you away. It would be hard to not hold the ghost's cruelty against the real-life Kelley.

You took in another deep breath, blowing it out slowly through your nose, counting to 5 in your head, trying to use the technique that your therapist had shown you.

At least she didn’t think you were living in the past. She didn’t have a problem with your preferred Christmas celebration.

… though she had suggested you send out thank you notes this year as surprise Christmas gifts. You hadn’t because you weren’t ready yet. You and Tyler had never exchanged formal gifts.

You shook your head, carefully pushing yourself to a sitting position, and running a hand through your hair. Maybe you were living a bit in the past.

But you could fix that. A couple of notes and then neither your therapist nor the stupid ghost of Kelley could look at you like you were broken again.

Notes weren’t a big deal.

You dragged your hand down, squeezing the bridge of your nose.

Doing the notes would show Kelley and your therapist that they were wrong.

“Took you long enough,”

Your entire being froze at his voice, your back instantly going rigid. It brought you back to your childhood.

“Fucking Christ,” You muttered. “First I get my hero who shows me my worst memories, then I get my team mom who shows me all of my friends talking about me behind my back and now I get you,”

“You get me,” Your father said softly, and you could feel his large form settle beside you. “I am the ghost of Christmas future,”

You couldn’t help the way you instinctively tensed.

“Future that is, or that will be?” You asked, finally gathering the courage to look up at him.

You slowly dropped your hand, peeking up at him through your fingers. You were slightly surprised when the sight didn’t send a shiver down your spine like it used to.

Your father’s form was imposing as it always had been, but his face wasn’t as… mean. His beard looked unkempt and there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in years.

It made you feel almost… sorry for him. As did the long, heavy chain that encircled the two of you, bound to his wrists and ankles.

You knew he had earned that chain. Forged each link with hatred and pain.

“The future as it is,” He answered, his blue eyes a cloudy gray, kinder than they had been since your mother died. “Its fluid, so nothing is set until the present becomes the past,”

He shifted beside you, as if he wanted to rest a hand on you, but thought better of it. You had never seen him so hesitant.

He had been cold and rigid since your mother passed, never bending and forcing you to break.

“Why did they send you?”

You couldn’t help the way you sneered the word.

Your father sighed, running a hand through his messy curls, much like you did when you were nervous. “It is too late for me to change my fate, but it’s not too late for you. I’m part of the reason you are in the situation you are in. I wished to help fix it,”

You swallowed hard, looking away.

Do it for yourself. Closure is important. Your brother's voice rang through your head like a bell, and you bit your lip.

You nodded. Fighting whatever the stupid ghosts wanted to do would get you nowhere, and the sooner you listened, the sooner you could leave your father and never look back,

“Show the way then,” You muttered through gritted teeth.

It came out more vindictive than you meant it to, and his shoulders hunched slightly.

It should have made you feel good after everything he had done, but it didn’t. It made your chest hurt. It made you feel like you were a bad person.

Your father hummed, waving his hand. “That way,”

You squinted in the direction of his hand as the fog slowly disappeared around you, revealing large rolling hills spotted with stones. You frowned.

You knew where you were, and you shouldn’t have been surprised. You had heard a Christmas Carol before.

“Is this the part where you show me that I’m dead and no one gives a fuck?” You asked with a rye smile, pushing yourself to your feet. “Which one of these graves is mine?”

Your father raised an eyebrow at you, gesturing off towards your left.

You nodded, moving in the direction he pointed. He fell into step beside you.

Your eyes traced the smooth, gray stones as you passed them, only stopping when you came upon the one with your name on it.

You crouched beside it, brushing away the snow that had fallen, slightly obscuring your name. You paused when you got to your last name, I’m taking a sharp breath when you saw the little hyphen. Sonnett-Horan.

You blinked up at your father. “I took their names?”

Your father nodded once. “You wanted to honor them, and your own last name held no memories you wanted to keep,”

You hummed. You could see yourself doing that. The only pride you held in your name was the number of goals you had scored while it was etched across your jersey. Other than that, all your last name held was pain. You didn’t want to carry on your father's lineage.

Not after what he had done.

“Anna wait!”

Your head snapped towards the sound.

“I wanna see Momma,” The little voice called over her shoulder.

It belonged to a girl, no older than five, racing towards you. Her hair was blonde, sharing a striking similarity with Emily’s.

It stole the breath from your lips.

“I know,” The other voice said. A slightly older voice, belonging to a little boy. His brown hair was combed to the side, and his jacket fluttered as he chased after the girl, finally catching up with her several feet from the grave. Anna.

He said as they stopped right in front of you.“Mommy has the flowers. We should have waited for her,”

Anna blinked up at him with big blue eyes, gesturing towards the grave at your feet. “I just… I missed her Tyty,”

“I know,” He sighed, running a hand through his slightly curly hair. “I miss her too,”

You used the corner of your shirt to wipe the sudden wetness in the corner of your eyes.

“Who are these kids?” You asked, looking up at your father, his eyes looked slightly misty too.

“My grandchildren,” He said. “Tyler just turned 8 and Annamarie is 4,”

You opened your mouth to reply, but you couldn’t seem to find your words.

And a new voice made it so you didn’t have to.

“When did you two get so fast?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet Emily’s blue. Identical to the blue of the little girl. AnnaMarie.

She was a little older than your present-day Emily. The wrinkles by her eyes were a little more prominent, and you spotted a few gray hairs peeking through her bun, but nothing else had really changed.

The boy smirked, nudging Emily with his shoulder. “You’re just getting slow mommy,”

“Very funny,” She chuckled, taking a shaky breath when her eyes landed on the grave.

Your grave.

“She looks tired,” You muttered.

“She is,” Your father said cryptically, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away to address him.

Her bottom lip found its way between her teeth as she pulled a bouquet of roses out from behind her back, passing them to the boy.

The boy took them gingerly like they were made of glass.

“Hey Momma,” He said, carefully placing the flowers right in front of your headstone. “We miss you. Mommy put the tree up in the basement this year,”

“Mama hasn’t come to see it yet,” The little girl said. The boy, Tyler, stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Aunt Kelley says it’s the prettiest tree she’s ever seen,”

You blew out a breath. “What does she mean?”

“Last Christmas you and Lindsey argued over lights,” Your father said slowly, carefully. Too carefully. “It turned into a fight about how much you detest her favorite holiday. How you refuse to… bend. You walked out, and never came back,”

“She blames herself,” You filled in easily.

“She’s struggling,” He agreed. “She can barely find the energy to leave her bed, and when she does, well she’s just not the same. They came close to losing her too, and they’ll come close again tonight,”

Your entire being froze.

That couldn’t be true. Lindsey wouldn’t-

You shook your head, shoving yourself to your feet and turning on your father. “You’re lying to me,”

He held his hands up in defense, his long chain clinking as he took a step back from you, but you weren’t having it.

“What? No comment?” You hissed, unbridled anger bubbling in your chest. How dare he try and tell you that Lindsey lost her love for Christmas. That she would ever- you couldn’t even think of the word.

Your father shook his head, taking another step back, but you took the step with him. You had too much rage. Too much anger to stop.

“Momma,” The little girl's voice said softly, hesitantly, and it was like an instant balm to your hot rage.

You couldn’t help but turn back toward it, noticing that Emily and Tyler were already walking back towards where their care should be, kneeling so you were eye level with her. “Yes, baby?”

“I know you don’t like Christmas,” She started, her little hands shaking as she reached into her puffy pink jacket, pulling out a toy Christmas tree with a little smiling face. “But Mama says no one should be alone. Mr. Tree will keep you company,”

“Come on Anna,” Tyler called.

The girl nodded. She placed the tree next to the bouquet, and carefully pushed herself to her feet. “Merry Christmas Momma,”

With that, she sprinted away.

“Merry Christmas baby,”

Your words hung in the air, even if you knew no one could hearthem.

You didn’t care.

You couldn’t allow this to be the future. You couldn’t allow your kids or Emily to lose you and Lindsey before either of them could even qualify for a u15 tournament. You couldn’t let Lindsey lose her joy. Not like you had lost yours.

“Take me back,” You demanded, again shoving yourself up and turning to face him, running your sleeve over your wet eyes “Now! This will not be my future,”

He held his hands up again, the chains hanging heavily from his wrists. “This is your future,”

“For now!” You yelled back.

You would not allow it to be your future. You would pretend to love Christmas if you had to, or let Lindsey put up god knows how many lights up if that is what it took.

“Pretending to like a holiday isn’t enough to change it” “Your father said, equally as forcefully.

“Then what is?!” You snapped back, desperation clear in your voice.

You could not let Lindsey face that fate. You couldn’t let Emily lose both of you.

Your father shook his head. “Ebenezer Scrooge’s vice was greed and his greatest fear was being forgotten. Your vice is pain, and your fear is that others will be forced to suffer with you. You have to learn to let them in. Learn that letting them help you isn't a weakness. That letting go isn’t betraying your mother and Tyler,”

You stepped back as though you had been slapped, but your father wasn’t done.

“I forced you to suffer not because we shared grief, but because I couldn’t move past mine. Do not make the same mistakes that I did,” His voice shook as he spoke, and it cut straight to your soul.

The same words Tyler and ghost Kelley had said to you.

“I-“ The words got stuck in your mouth, even if you weren’t sure exactly what they were.

“Change,” Your father said seriously, his hand falling heavily on your shoulder and his cloudy eyes piercing into yours. “Your fate deserves better than mine,”

You swallowed hard, frowning as a familiar tune floated its way through the air.

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time.

*******

You sucked in an icy breath as you jerked away, your eyes flying wide as you scrambled to stay upright in your chair.

“Holy shit,”

Your voice was little more than a wheeze, and your fingers clawed at your chest in an attempt to slow your racing heart.

It was all too much.

“Where the fuck is a ghost now when I need help calming down,” You muttered cynically, glancing around your apartment.

The 1996 World Cup final rolled across the screen, lighting up your couch and your blanket-covered feet. You could hear the cheer of the crowd, but it didn’t give you the same tingles that walking onto the pitch surrounded by them did, and simply having a wonderful Christmas time blasting from the floor above you.

You looked to your left, counting the beer bottles. One, two, you paused. Nestled just behind the 3rd was a small, plastic Christmas tree that wasn’t there before.

The only proof that your night was more than just a beer-induced dream. Proof that it was real.

You reached for it, turning him over in your hand so his smiling face looked up at you.

“Hi mister tree,” You said softly, your finger running over his wide smile. It filled you with warmth.“You’re right, no one should be alone on Christmas,”

You glanced up at the clock, frowning at the bright 9:30 still blinking at you. You were sure it had been midnight when you went to bed. You were sure that… you shook your head. It didn’t matter, not now.

You opened your phone, calling for an Uber, taking a deep breath.

You could do this.

You pushed yourself to your feet, the tree clutched tightly in your hand as you pulled on your jacket, scarf, and hat.

You still had time to change your fate.

*****

Your fingers twisted in your beanie as you stood in front of Kelley’s apartment door.

You had never felt more nervous in your entire life. Not when you were waiting to play the World Cup, or when you were getting ready for your first PK shootout.

You weren’t sure why you had taken your hat off of your head. You weren’t sure why you were so worked up, but you were.

You had been invited, even if you turned it down. They were your friends, they wouldn’t shut the door on you, even if that’s what you deserved.

You closed your eyes letting the soft sounds of you’re a mean one Mr. Grinch wash over you for a long second before slowly lifting your hand and knocking on the door.

There was a rustle behind the door, the sound of the music turning down, and you couldn’t help but twist your beanie again.

You had interrupted them. You considered walking away, but you didn’t have time before the door slowly swung open.

“Speak of the grinch and she shall appear,” You mumbled, shooting the defender a shy smile. “I uh… I wasn’t sure if your invite still stood, but um…”

“Come on,” Kelley smiled widely at you interrupting your rambling, her hand landing on your shoulder and she squeezed gently. “You’re always invited,”

You bobbed your head, swallowing hard and allowing her to guide you into the living room. “I uh.. didn’t bring anything for the secret Santa,”

“Don’t worry about it,” She hummed, taking your coat. “You being here is enough,”

Her hands still sent a shiver down your spine. A reminder of ghost Kelley, and her harsh words.

“As long as you’re sure,” You said, showing More vulnerability than you normally would.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” She sent you another soft smile, shaking her head. “Everyone is in the living room. I’ll even get you a-“

“Fireball Manhattan,” You finished, already moving towards the room.

Her head tilted to the side as she trailed after you. “How did you know that was the surprise drink this year?”

You shrugged. “Just a hunch,”

“Good hunch,” She hummed suspiciously. “Look who I found,”

She gestured towards you as you entered the living room.

The team paused for a split second as if they couldn’t believe you had actually come before you were being surrounded.

“Hey, Scrooge does have a heart,”

“Glad you could come down from mount crumpet,”

Your cheeks flamed as Christen pulled you into a tight hug and Tobin patted your back. “Lindsey and Em are gonna be so excited,”

You let the hug go on, glancing for the two aforementioned women. “Where are they?”

“Linds wanted some water,” Christen said, kissing the side of your head, and you wilted slightly.

That meant that they knew why you didn’t like Christmas. The team had already told them. Lindsey had already gotten upset.

“Em followed her into the kitchen,” Tobin said, tilting her head towards the door. “Just be careful of hiding mistletoe,”

You nodded, and Christen patted you towards the kitchen. You waved towards Alex, Megan, Sue and the youngins before pushing your way into the kitchen.

You knew the scene that you were walking into to. You had already seen it, but that didn’t change how it made your heart clench to see Emily wrapped around Lindsey’s back, her chin resting on her shoulder.

“Maybe we can head over to her apartment after tomorrow, and bring her Thai food or something. It’ll be like a tradition of our own,”

“I think that sounds amazing,” You answered, leaning on the counter. “Drunken noodles are my favorite,”

Their heads whipped around to face you, and a breathtaking smile broke across Lindsey’s face.

“You came,”

You shifted uncomfortably against the counter. “my game got kinda boring,”

Emily hummed, pushing herself off of Lindsey and taking a step towards you. “No other reason?”

Red painted itself across your cheeks, and you scratched the back of your neck. “I uh. I also wanted to make sure the two of you were safe tonight, and I wanted to spend time with you,”

“You’re cute,” Emily smirked, holding her hands out and pulling you into a careful hug.

You leaned into it, burying your nose in her shoulder before Lindsey pulled you into her instead.

“We got you a present if you want it,” She said softly into your hair.

You gulped again. You hadn’t exchanged presents since your mother died. “I didn’t get you guys anything, really.

Lindsey pulled back, her dimples showing. “You brought you, and that’s all I wanted for Christmas,”

“I’ll go grab it, you two stay put,” Emily said from behind you, and you heard the sound of the door.

“I’m not very good at this,” You admitted.

Lindsey’s smile widened, her dimples getting deeper as she ran a careful thumb over your cheek. “You’re doing alright so far,”

You nodded, swallowing at the sound of the door and Emily’s warmth returning behind you. She passed a small, thin gift over your shoulder and you took it gingerly, staring down at the bright red paper.

“This is called a present,” Emily jested. “You’re supposed to rip it open,”

“I know that,” You mumbled, thumbing the corner of the paper. “I just-“

“Just say thank you,” Lindsey said instead, her thumb-stopping the word on your lip.

You nodded. “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” Lindsey hummed, nudging your cheek with her nose. “Now open it,”

You nodded, your thumb catching the edge of the paper and slowly tearing it away. Your breath caught at the sight of red and white fabric. It was soft against your fingers and the sight alone was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“We know Arsenal is your favorite team,” Emily said slowly.

“So we thought a new beanie might be a good idea,” Lindsey finished, worrying her bottom lip.

“It’s perfect,”

It came out of your mouth before you could stop it, watery and vulnerable, but you felt safe nestled between these two women.

“I um-“ You awkwardly ran your finger over the Arsenal logo of the red and white hat, tracing the little cannon. The same cannon you had given your brother. The same one he had pulled on his head the last time you saw him. “I don’t know a lot about Christmas, but I want to learn if you’re willing to teach me?”

“Well, our favorite tradition is the mistletoe,” Emily said, and you could hear her smirk in her tone as she pointed towards the ceiling. “Traditionally you kiss when you're under it,”

You chuckled, tilting your head as Lindsey leaned in and pressed a very soft kiss to your lips. It took your brain a second to catch up, but you reciprocated as soon as you did, leaning into her as she pulled away. Chasing her lips.

Emily hummed, catching your chin and pulling you away from Lindsey and towards her, connecting your lips.

“I think I could get used to these traditions,”

You still weren’t sure exactly where you stood on Christmas, but what you did know was that you wanted these women with you as you figured it out. You wanted to give them everything. You were ready to let them in.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #soran x reader #soran imagine

283 notes · View notes