#Should probably get winter clothes though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saythenametotheworld · 4 months

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'tis the damn season | kmg

Genre: exes baggage; pseudo-relationship Synopsis: Taking your boyfriend—with whom you recently broke up with—to your family home for the holidays and pretend you're still happily in love? Doesn't sound like the best idea but what could go wrong? Everything. Pairing: SEVENTEEN Kim Mingyu x Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content Notes: 23k words - I got carried away, song prompt was 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift.

The weather forecast sure wasn't lying when it said this winter would be the coldest in the last decade. As soon as you step outside, the chill has cut through your layers of clothing. It's a cold that feels even more piercing than the void in your soul right now.

The last few days, you've been trying to convince yourself that the chill you're feeling is just the season, nothing more. You were just being in denial, of course. As you walk to meet your sister in a cafe near your apartment, you can't help but think back to warmer times. Days when the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, when laughter was easy, and the world felt kinder to you and your heart. It's clear now that the warmth you miss isn't just from the absence of the sun. It's the absence of something, someone, who made everything feel less cold, less harsh.

“Blair!” you called out when you spotted your sister outside the cafe, her bundles of clothing unable to hide the massive baby bump. She looked warm and pretty, waving happily at you when she saw you.

“Hi!” she greeted pitchily when you approached her.

“Did you wait too long? Where’s your husband?”

“Oh, he went to get the gifts wrapped up,” she said, ushering you into the building.

“Their hot chocolate here is really good. You should try it.”

“Really? Good because I’m craving some chocolate right now.”

You found a table, ordered food, and started talking about the Christmas party in your family home this year. She laid down the plans and the segments which are the same as every year but you just had to talk about it. The discussion was going well until your sister reminded you of something important that totally slipped your mind.

“Mingyu's coming too right?”

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked stupidly, blinking rapidly at her.

“Mingyu. Duh,” she scoffed, chuckling.

Of course, Mingyu. “I'm not sure he can make it this year.”

Your sister's face contorted into a frown upon hearing that. She asked, “Why? What's wrong? Did you two break up?”

Yes, you did. But hearing the worry in her voice made you swallow the words. "He probably has other plans. I don't know, he might go home for the holidays this year."

She visibly relaxed, patting her chest and sighing. “Good lord, I thought you two broke up. That’s okay. He should spend time with his family if he can. I just asked because he’s been spending Christmas with us ever since you got together.”

Right, he has. Ever since you started dating, Mingyu has spent every Christmas with your family. The first time he did, it was because you found out his family lived abroad so you invited him over. He quickly got close with your family and soon became a regular presence during holidays and important family functions. Including last year, Mingyu has spent three Christmases in your family home. This year would have been his fourth if you didn't break up.

It hasn't been that long; only three weeks have passed since. You kept count because a four-year relationship is obviously not something you forget overnight. Not to mention the regrets you have about the breakup that would often leave you to wonder if it was the right thing to do.

"The kids will miss him, for sure," your sister commented to which you only replied with a hum of agreement. She didn't bring him up again and continued relaying the holiday plans to you. When it was all over and she'd had her third cup of hot chocolate, you walked out of the cafe with your sister promising to drive you back to your apartment.

The universe probably has it out for you though, because as soon as you step out of the cafe, the first person you bumped into was Mingyu.

"Mingyu!" your sister exclaimed, gasping behind the scarf that was covering half her face. "Good to see you. How are you?"

Mingyu looked surprised but he was quick to give your sister a hug. "I've been well. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Still alive and very pregnant."

"So, I see," Mingyu smiled sweetly, eyeing your sister's growing bump. "He should be coming out this month, right?"

"He is," your sister chimed. "Hopefully before or after the Christmas weekend, but, I'll leave it up to him to decide."

A smile crept up on your lips, touched by the fact that he remembered that bit. As the two of them had a quick catching up, you stood there awkwardly, looking around and refusing to meet Mingyu's gaze.

"Will you be joining us for Christmas this year?" your sister asked, making you glance at Mingyu at once. He was looking at you too, confusion written over his face. "She said you're going home to your family. That's good, but if you change your mind about it, you're welcome to the chateau, okay?"

"Uh," Mingyu chuckled awkwardly, tilting his head. "Yeah, I will. I mean... I might. I'll let you know."

"Good," your sister beamed just as her husband was pulling over at the side of the road. She turned to you. "Since Mingyu's here, I guess I won't have to drive you back anymore?" she said, nodding at you.

You grabbed her hands and gave her a pleading look. "But you promised!"

"I did, but your boyfriend's here now so I don't have to," she scoffed. To Mingyu, she said, "See you around, Gyu."

"Yes. See you around. Take care," Mingyu replied, waving at your sister as she got into the car.

The two of you stood there in silence, watching them drive away and disappear into the sea of cars on the road. You sighed when you couldn't see their car anymore, turning on your heel to walk away. Mingyu's voice called for you, making you stop to look at him.

He seemed hesitant at first, but he still spoke. "You haven't told them yet?"

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I was going to, the timing was just off when the topic came up a while ago. Don't worry though, I'll sort this out."

"It's fine. No big deal," he said, nodding.

You evened your breathing, nodding at him. "Okay," you replied before turning to walk away.

The air was cold against your cheeks and your mouth was bitter from the cold exchange you just had with Mingyu. It was brief and hurried like neither of you wanted it. It was fleeting, almost as if it never happened at all. Now here you are, freezing and broken, wanting so bad to whine about the encounter but you can’t because that would be pathetic and completely out of line. In fact, you’re the last person who should complain about Mingyu being cold and distant. It was you who decided to break up with him in the first place.

“Y/N, wait!” came Mingyu’s voice, huffing as he ran after you down the sidewalk. You halted, your heart suddenly beating wildly, replacing your frustration with anxiousness. He stopped just a few feet from you. “Let me drive you home.”

What home? “I’m fine. It’s not that far.”

“Please, I insist,” he replied, reaching for you but not touching you. “You look cold.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, along with the voice in your head telling you not to get into his car. "If you don't mind, then... okay."

With a heavy step and your mind screaming about how stupid you are, you towed behind Mingyu all the way to where his car was parked by the sidewalk.

The ride was quiet; not that you were expecting any conversation. What would you talk about anyway? It shouldn’t feel weird since you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. But then again, it did feel weird to be together and not utter a word to each other. You used to have a lot to talk about; random topics, important stuff, petty fighting, and whatever it was that crossed your minds. Now you haven’t heard from him for three weeks until today. Funny how someone can be a huge part of your life today and become a stranger the next day. The chill on your hands and cheeks was gone but the cold in your heart was enough to make your soul shiver.

Mingyu took a deep breath as he pulled over at the side of the road right in front of your apartment complex. The car came to a stop but you sat there frozen in place, unable to open the door on your side or say anything to thank him for the ride. Mingyu can probably feel your discomfort and it felt awkward knowing that.

“For what it’s worth,” he began, breaking the ice. “I haven’t told anyone either.”

You cautiously glanced his way, smiling timidly when you saw that he was looking at you. His expression was difficult to discern. There was a smile on his lips but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You looked away and chuckled awkwardly. “I guess it’s not something that just randomly comes up in conversations, is it?”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” he agreed, nodding.

You were both quiet after that, unsure of what to say next. You’re thinking about getting off but it doesn’t feel right to leave just yet. It was as if something in the atmosphere was telling you the conversation was not over yet. Was it the atmosphere or was it your delusional brain fooling you into thinking there's something there when the truth is there isn't?

“You know, if you want…” he started again. You can tell he was hesitating because he wouldn’t even look at you. “I can go to the chateau with you.”

“The chateau?” you repeated, genuinely surprised. “With me? You mean for Christmas?”

“Yeah."

“Are you serious?” you asked incredulously, genuinely amazed at the sudden turn of events.

“Is that a ‘no’?” he probed. He seemed serious about his offer but you weren’t sure how to react to it. “I was thinking we could just go there for old times’ sake. I don’t have anything planned for Christmas anyway, and I would love to see them again one last time.”

One last time? This really is the end for you, isn’t it? “Wouldn’t it be weird?”

Mingyu chuckled sheepishly, scratching his nape. “Yeah, I guess it would. Sorry. Was it too much? Did I overstep?”

You shook your head in response but in your mind, you do agree that it was out of bounds. What kind of ex was he to ask if he could spend Christmas with your family after you two have broken up? And what kind of woman would you be if you said it was alright and he could come? Sure, he’s close to your family and has built a good relationship with them. Even so, it’s still awkward to have him come over for the holidays knowing the relationship you two had-- which was the reason he met your family in the first place, has come to an end.

“We broke up, Gyu. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you replied and you meant it. Everyone in your family adored Mingyu, especially your parents. Now that you think about it, if they find out that you’ve broken up, it would break their hearts too. “I haven’t told them yet and it would upset them. Especially mom.”

Mingyu appeared to think for a moment, then his face contorted with hesitation. It baffled you how much you knew him; his cues, his expressions, and even his mannerisms. You knew exactly what they signified and how to respond to them. Right now, you know he has an idea that you may or may not like.

“What if…” he began, glancing at you tentatively. “What if we don’t tell them yet?”

“What?”

“What if we don’t tell them that we broke up? Telling them now would probably ruin the festive mood. Let’s just let the holidays pass. We could do that and spend Christmas together this year.”

Together... you pondered but you steeled your resolve. It was tempting, and you could shout to the world how much you miss him right now, but you wouldn't take your chances on something so risky.

“You’re not serious,” you deadpanned, imagining a whole lot of scenarios where his plan backfires terribly. It would be easier to just get back together than to pretend you’re still together in front of your whole family. “It’s stupid and they’ll see right through it.”

“So, you’re up for it as long as they don’t figure it out?” he grinned mischievously. God, you hate it when he makes that face. He does that when he knows he’s up to no good and he’s trying to rope you into it. But dear God, don’t you love it too; the fun that follows after he finally convinces you, the euphoria of being involved in some misconduct, and the thrill of doing something you never thought you would ever do.

“No.” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him. “I get that you loved hanging out with them, but it’s risky and unnecessary. Besides, you don’t really have to be there. I already told my sister you’ll be spending Christmas with your family.”

“Alright, I'm sorry. Let’s not do it,” he gave up, raising his hands. “It was worth a shot though.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a no.” You forced a smile as you reached for the door and got ready to leave. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome. Stay warm,” he replied with a small wave. You smiled again just as you were closing the door. Then you watched him drive away, sighing as soon as he was far enough.

"Stay warm? What is he a weatherman?" you muttered, shaking your head.

You were right; the universe has it out for you. After that one unexpected encounter with Mingyu, you started seeing him everywhere—in the grocery store, at your favorite café, even just walking down the street. For such a big city, it seemed absurd how often you bumped into him lately, especially since you hadn't seen him once since the breakup. At first, you exchanged quick, polite greetings, but soon these random meetings became so frequent that even looking at each other felt awkward. That’s the tricky part about an amicable breakup: there’s no real reason to ignore each other. It would have been easier if he had been a jerk, or if you had done something unforgivable, but there was not enough reason to act like strangers.

“Hello, stranger. Good morning,” Mingyu greeted you as he saw you at the café counter. The sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes at his goofy grin.

“Good morning to you too,” you replied, nodding in acknowledgment. Mingyu didn’t say anything else and quietly waited his turn.

He stood behind you in the queue, out of sight, but you could easily imagine him with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. Or maybe he was scrolling through his phone. Perhaps he was staring at the menu. Whatever he was doing, you hoped he wasn’t looking at you—observing the back of your neck, checking you out, or anything like that.

“Thank you,” you told the barista as she handed you the buzzer after you paid for your coffee. When you turned on your heel, you caught a glance of Mingyu who smiled at you when your eyes met. As you walked away, you heard him tell the barista his order.

Your feet hurriedly carried you to a four-seater table. Originally, you weren’t planning to linger in the café and ordered a takeout, but curiosity got the best of you after hearing Mingyu order for two people. Who was he having coffee with this early? Your eyes scanned the occupied tables, searching for any hint of Mingyu’s company. Anxiety began to build up in your chest as you considered the possibility that he might be here with another girl.

It could be anyone, you reassured yourself. Mingyu, being the social butterfly that he is, has friends everywhere. Throughout your relationship, you had lost count of the times you met Mingyu’s acquaintances. Most of these meetings happened in the streets or the hallways of the university, where he would bump into someone he knew and have quick small talks—not forgetting to introduce you as his girlfriend to those you were meeting for the first time. But still, in your opinion, it was a little too early to be meeting a friend for coffee.

As expected, Mingyu had a quick chat with the barista before leaving the counter. Hoping he wouldn’t notice you watching him, you feigned interest in your phone as he strolled across the room. The table he sat at wasl vacant, leading you to presume that the person he’s meeting hasn’t arrived yet. But barely a minute later, the chime of the door opening echoed through the café. The way Mingyu’s face lit up with a smile at the sight of the newcomer made you scowl. Glancing over your shoulder toward the entrance, you saw a woman walking in.

You held your breath, observing the tall, alluring figure approach your ex-boyfriend. Mingyu greeted her with a hug that lingered longer than you would have preferred. Recognizing the jealousy bubbling up inside you, you scoffed incredulously, shaking your head and tearing your gaze away from them. So what if he’s meeting a woman? What does it matter to you? So what if there’s a chance they’re involved romantically? It’s none of your business! He’s free to do whatever he wants!

“Isn’t it a little too soon to start seeing someone new, though?“ you muttered, a scowl knitting your brows together.

The buzzer startled you, prompting a sharp exhale as you rose to fetch your order. But when the barista called out your name in a voice louder than necessary, a flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks. Mingyu must have heard that you were still around.

But really, why feel embarrassed? This is a public space, and you have every right to be here. Now that you think about it, you may be way in over your head to think your presence there is affecting him at all. You chided yourself internally for overthinking.

“Thanks,“ you said to the barista, sliding the buzzer back across the counter. “But seriously, what's the point of the buzzer if you're going to call out names anyway?“

The barista grinned sheepishly. “Honestly, I've wondered the same thing myself.“

If you want to know who Mingyu was hanging out with or if he's already moved on, you could simply ask. Not Mingyu, of course. Maybe inquire with mutual friends or someone close to him. Granted, easier said than done, but definitely less humiliating than the slightly awkward and borderline stalker-ish behavior you're exhibiting now.

Your phone started ringing as soon as you stepped out of the cafe. It was your father calling so you punched the answer button and pressed the device on your ear. “Hi Dad, what’s up?”

“Hi, sweetheart. Is Mingyu there?” was the first thing he said.

You glanced back inside the cafe where you could see Mingyu happily chatting with his ‘date’. “No. Why?”

“Mommy wants to know if he’s coming this weekend. Your sister was here a while ago and told us she met Mingyu last week. Your mom’s making final arrangements for the weekend so she wants the RSVP. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah, I know,” you exhaled, your eyes twitching at the sight of the girl’s hand around Mingyu’s arm. They have left their table and are now making their way out of the cafe with all smiles.

“Right, you do. Let us know once he made up his mind, alright? Or call your mom, whatever works for you.” your dad said.

You turned in the direction of your apartment before Mingyu could see you loitering outside the cafe. “I should just call her. I gotta tell her as soon as possible anyway,” you replied as you trekked back to your apartment.

“Good. It shouldn’t be so hard to ask him. I mean,” your father chuckled. “He’s been a regular presence in our home for three Christmases. At this point, he’s basically family.”

If they only knew the truth, they would never even mention his name around you. “Right. I gotta go, Dad. I’ll call mom later.”

“Alright, Bean. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” you replied, briskly hanging up and tucking your phone back into your purse. You have made up your mind, so you turned on your heel and walked back to the cafe. Mingyu was standing by the sidewalk, waving a hand at the girl who he had just sent away in a taxi. The voices in your head were screeching and cursing at you for an impulsive decision that you were actively trying to execute. But there was no turning back.

“Kim Mingyu,” you blurted as soon as you reached your ex. Mingyu, who was just about to press his phone to his ear, turned to you in surprise. “Christmas at the chateau. Is it still on the table?”

Confusion flickered on his face. “Mom, let me call you back. I need a sec. Yeah, it’s her… I will. Bye, mom. Talk later.”

You took a deep breath, watching him put his phone away and walk closer to you. He then said, “It depends on you, y/n. Just say the word.”

You exhaled sharply, blowing steam from the warmth of your mouth. “Come with me, then. Spend Christmas with me–us. The family… My uh, family wants you there.”

Mingyu shrugged, lips lifting into a boyish smile. “What about you? Do you want me there?”

“Absolutely!” you replied so quickly, it was embarrassing. “Everyone would be delighted to see you so… That makes me want you to be there.”

There’s no way he didn’t notice how defensive you were. Mingyu’s grin didn’t falter, nodding cheekily as he said, “Okay then. If you insist.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tore through your lips, both annoyed and shy because you knew he was teasing you on purpose. “Stop that.”

“What?” he grinned. “You want me there. I guess I’ll be there then.”

“Shut up,” you gloated, shaking your head despite being unable to erase your smile. You started walking back to your apartment while Mingyu followed behind you. “Go away!”

He chuckled heartily, reaching for your elbow. “Come, y/n. I’ll take you home.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, letting him drag you back. Your heart has stopped raging and you are feeling much calmer now. “I have rules.”

“Okay.”

“And I have a condition.”

“Sure, sure. Let’s hear it in the car.”

“What could go wrong?” you questioned, looking at your friend Daphne through the reflection in the mirror.

Daphne stared back at you with a dumbfounded expression, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. “Those four words are harmless on their own. But if you put them together, you get the most dangerous sentence in the history of humanity.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you turned to face her. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re an idiot.”

“Thank you very much,” you quipped, then stood with your back facing her. “Now, would you please help me out of this dress? I don’t like it.”

“Me neither,” Daphne agreed before unzipping the dress at once.

“How about that one?” You pointed at a nice maroon cashmere dress.

Daphne looked over it and nodded. “It’s cute. Try it on.”

You hurried back into the fitting room with the dress. It’s the morning before you leave for the chateau and you invited Daphne for a last-minute shopping. You wanted a dress for the Christmas dinner and you initially thought you’d find a decent one in your closet but there wasn’t any. That was not to say you didn’t have any nice dress–in fact, you had plenty. You just didn’t want to wear them for the occasion. It was as if everything in your closet was suddenly tacky, plain, or unattractive. You wanted new ones.

“You look amazing,” Daphne said as soon as you stepped out, although she had a deadpan expression.

“Thank you. I like it too.”

“Be honest. Are you shopping because you wanted to look cute for Mingyu?”

You laughed awkwardly. “No, I’m not.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at you. “I can see right through you.”

You knew that but you were still adamant about denying it. “I don’t dress to impress, Daph. Especially not for a man.”

“You don’t, but this is Mingyu we're talking about so…” she retorted, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say. This dress is not for him,” you insisted, examining yourself in the mirror.

“It’s okay, girl. You can be honest with me.”

“I can?” you lilted, taking the bait Daphne threw to catch you.

“See, I knew it!” she snickered, rolling her eyes. “You want to impress your ex.”

You just pouted, not responding to her at all and just looking through your dress selections for more options. So what if you want to impress Mingyu? You’re not trying to get back with him. You just didn’t want him to think you were any less pretty after the breakup.

“y/n, I told you. Bringing him to the chateau is a bad idea.”

“It’s just one weekend,” you murmured, embarrassed but determined not to back out.

Daphne stood from the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “One weekend where your heart and dignity is on the line. I don’t think it’s worth it.”

Daphne was right and you know it. But you had made up your mind–you are going to the chateau with Mingyu. You’ve made the preparations and told your parents he was coming. You’ve talked to Mingyu and put up clear boundaries. Plus you are driving up there in four hours. You can’t just back out at the last minute!

You can, you just didn’t have the intention to do so. Although it shamed you to admit it, a part of you wanted this. For old-time’s sake.

“I know you mean well but,” you paused, faced your friend, and sighed, “I’m sorry, Daph.”

Daphne sighed, shaking her head sternly as he approached you to tenderly squeeze your shoulders. “I guess I can’t change your mind, then?”

You responded by shaking your head, and Daphne pulled you into a hug.

“Just don’t go breaking your heart. It hasn’t even healed yet.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Your friend grumbled as she pulled away. Pouting, she pointed at the dress with a deep olive green shade. “Get this one too. Green looks majestic on you. And hurry. This place is getting too crowded.”

Grinning, you heeded her suggestion and grabbed said dress before disappearing into the fitting room once again. After shopping, you sat down for brunch with your friend and spent the morning chatting away. By the time you arrived back at your apartment, it was half past noon and you only had a couple minutes left before Mingyu would come to pick you up. You stuffed your new clothes in your luggage, inspected your boxes of presents for your family, and did your routine inspection of your flat to make sure everything was clean and tidy before you left.

Your doorbell rang right on time, signaling the arrival of Kim Mingyu. Part of you wanted to roll your eyes and say he can just come in like he used to. It’s not like you changed your passcode or anything. But then again, Mingyu is a gentleman. Even if he could, he wouldn’t just waltz in like he owns the place.

“Hi,” he beamed as soon as you pushed your door open. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, I just need help with these,” you replied, motioning to the huge bag of presents in your hands. Mingyu was quick to take it out of your hands, and then hold the door open for you while you went back in to take your luggage out. He even took that one out of your hand too.

“Is this all your stuff?” he asked as you closed your apartment door.

You nodded in response and so you both boarded the elevator. At the parking lot, his car was right outside the exit, waiting for the two of you. As soon as everything was loaded, he opened the car door for you with no hesitation. Dumbfounded, you quietly slipped through the door and sat on the shotgun. Mingyu then rounded the car to get inside the driver’s seat.

“Ready?” he asked, beaming. You looked away from him, pretending to be busy with the seatbelt as you responded to his question with a quiet nod.

The first few minutes of the car ride were spent with Mingyu talking to his mother on the phone. It was a pure and adorable conversation about the weather, meals, and their plans for the weekend. Mingyu’s mom was a kind woman who spoke in a stern but gentle manner. You don’t have that many memories with her mom, except for the time two years ago when Mingyu took you on a trip to his hometown. At the time, and in the few occasions that you did talk to her, she has shown nothing but adoration for you.

“Mmhmm, don’t worry. I will take good care of myself, Mom,” he said affectionately after his mom reminded him to keep himself warm and never get sick.

“But wait, if you’re on your way to their house, does that mean y/n is with you?” she asked from the other line. Your eyes widened at his phone that was hanging on the dashboard holder. Then you glanced at Mingyu who just scrunched his nose cutely at you.

“Yes, she’s here. Say, ‘hi’.”

His mother started laughing heartily before saying, “Hi, dear. How are you?”

“Hello, Moth…er…” your speech trailed off, awkwardly glancing at Mingyu.

He just chuckled and gave you an encouraging nod before mouthing, “It’s okay.”

“Um… I’ve been well–” you stammered, clearing your throat before finishing, “–mother.”

“You’ve been well? Great. That’s great,” she chimed, her voice sweet and endearing. “I haven’t heard from you for a while. I thought you finally got sick of my son and left him for good.”

A hiccup escaped your throat, caught off-guard by her sudden comment. Mingyu on the other hand, started whining and said, “Mom! Why would you even say that?”

“Why not? She has every reason to dump you,” she replied. Mingyu grabbed the phone from the holder and tapped the loudspeaker button so he could talk to his mother in private.

“I’ll call you later. Stop worrying about me and take care of yourself, alright? Good. Let’s talk soon. Okay. Bye, love you!” He then tossed the device into a compartment and mumbled under his breath. You might not speak his language, but you knew he just cursed in his mother tongue.

“Sorry about her,” he said awkwardly. “You see, I haven’t told them either.”

“Hmm, I see.”

“She asks about you all the time, you know,” he added, eyes fixed on the road. “Even after we broke up.”

“What do you tell her?” you probed, genuinely curious. If she did ask about you all the time, how come he couldn’t tell her about the breakup?

“Nothing much. Just that you’re fine and doing stuff,” he said, to which you hummed in response and then turned your gaze to the road.

“Are you?” he questioned, making you look at him. He glanced at you briefly. “Are you fine and doing stuff?”

“Who, me?” you chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I’m fine and doing stuff.”

“Really? What have you been up to these days?”

“Oh, you know. Small gigs for family or friends. Nothing official or permanent yet. I’m still on a break.”

You and Mingyu met in college as sophomores. He took up accounting, while you were an art student majoring in interior design. After college, he applied for jobs in major firms and got accepted immediately. Then for the next six months, he worked as an assistant for an executive–which served as his training before he signed a full contract. You, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about getting a job and securing a good salary. So you took your time, not making big decisions and enjoying your free time.

“So you’re freelancing?” Mingyu asked.

“I wouldn’t consider it freelancing since I’m not really available for hire any time. I just picked up some small projects for Allan’s house. The other is for Daphne’s department store. And I decorated for Sue as well. Remember her?”

“Yeah, I remember Sue. She was your new neighbor before I…” he stopped to clear his throat and finished, “Before I moved out.”

The sudden change of subject made your stomach turn. Looking back, you and Mingyu started living together in your fourth year of college. As spacious as it was, before he moved in, you had never eaten or cooked there. It was tidy, not because you purposely kept it clean, but because barely anyone stayed there who would make any mess– not even you who spent most of your time outside and only came home to sleep and bathe. Mingyu made it homely and warm.

At one point in your relationship, you told him you could never live there without him anymore. You could not imagine waking up without him on the bed, eating there without the food he made himself, or sitting in the living room without him to snuggle with. You told him that once and although he laughed about it, he also promised he would never leave you there alone.

Long story short, he lied. Sure, you were the one who broke things off, but he was the one who left. That was the part that hurt most— the fact that he just agreed to break up without putting up a fight. You can only hope the best for him, you knew he was hoping the same for you anyway.

Attempting to dissolve the awkwardness, you decided to ask him about his job. “How was your job at the firm?”

“Oh, it’s great. I got regularized about two weeks ago,” he replied, looking pleased.

You knew that, one of your friends told you about it when it happened. “That’s amazing. I knew you would get the job.”

“Thanks. That’s immensely reassuring.”

You agree that it was such a reassuring thing to say, and you also regret not saying it when you were still together— when he needed to hear it the most.

“Good to know. You’ve always been easy to reassure,” you said as a passing comment. “I wish Blair was like that. I mean, honestly, how can she ask me to reassure her all the damn time but still remain pessimistic about everything?”

Mingyu chuckled heartily. “I guess the pregnancy is making her anxious, huh?”

You shook your head. “Not the pregnancy itself. It’s giving birth that she’s so scared of. Now that her due is near, everyone has been trying to give her pep talks.”

“It must be nerve-wracking.”

“I can’t say I know how it feels,” you chuckled derisively. “You wanna know what she’s naming the baby?”

“She picked one already?” he asked, glancing at you with an amazed smile.

“It’s Alfred.”

“Alfred?” Mingyu frowned, dismayed. The face he made was funny to you because you had the same negative reaction when you first heard it.

“Yes. Alfred,” you snickered. "Tacky, isn't it?"

“No. I think it’s um…” He tilted his head a little. “It’s okay. Cool name. Alfred. Has a nice classy ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was just trying to patronize your sister. “She’s hell-bent on following our parents’ legacy by naming her children chronologically. We barely talked her out of naming the child Allan after my older brother.”

Mingyu hummed. “So if she had it her way, there would have been a ‘y/n Jr.’ in a couple of years.”

You giggled, leaning your head on the backrest as you started feeling drowsy. “I know, right? That would have been nice, and kinda weird too if you think about it.”

“So I almost became a godfather to an Allan Jr.?” he asked, bewildered. “Now that you mentioned it, it does sound a little strange for an Allan Jr. to exist as someone else’s child, not Allan’s himself.”

“Do you still want to be Alfred’s godfather?” you asked, remembering that Blair had requested Mingyu to be her son’s godfather when she first found out that she was pregnant. “I mean, would you still be up for it after we tell everyone that we’ve broken up?”

You saw Mingyu shrug. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

That was such a play-safe answer, and also a ridiculous one especially since it was between him and Blair as friends; you had nothing to do with it. But you also recognized why it would depend on your opinion. To begin with, it was because of you that he made friends with your family. He would want you to be comfortable with it more than anything. And of course, regardless of how great their relationship was, you knew your family would take your side no matter what. Each time you remember this fact, you are reminded of the disappointment and pain that your breakup would bring upon your loved ones.

Something about the yuletide season tugs at your heartstrings each year. Everywhere you go, twinkling lights adorned the homes, business establishments, and the streets. Christmas brings a festive mood to the atmosphere and a unique blend of warmth, nostalgia, and anticipation that fills you with warmth despite the cold season. Your hometown is no different; each Christmas, it transforms into a wonderland of lights and decorations from house to house. In your own home, there is a warm sense of togetherness as your family gathers to share laughter, stories, and meals.

You loved this mood, but this year is a little different. The festivity is still there, but the warmth of the familiar embrace has disappeared. The once-sweet scent of gingerbread in the air now had a bitter aftertaste to it that you knew was caused by the massive hole in your heart. And it didn’t help that the reason for this void was smiling next to you.

“Here we are,” he breathed, glancing sideways at you. It’s nightfall. The drive took four hours and you slept for most of it.

“The rules,” you reminded, making him nod. “Don’t forget them.”

“Alright, babe.”

“Babe?” you scowled, making Mingyu chuckle.

“Yes, ‘babe’,” he repeated, reaching for your hand on your thigh. “Come on, It’s only for the weekend.”

“Right. Only for the weekend,” you echoed, glancing at your joined hands.

Approaching the chateau, you marveled at the Christmas trees lined up along the driveway, and the glowing ornaments hanging on them. As you reach the entrance of the house, you can hear the low hum of amazement from Mingyu. Coming to the chateau always amazed him. Not that you can blame him. The chateau is magnificent— preserved and passed down through generations, it sits on a large estate and exudes grandeur and sophistication at every turn.

“Hello, sweetheart!” your mother greeted cheerfully, walking towards you with open arms.

You greeted her back with a smile, giving her a tight hug. As she approached Mingyu, you embraced the other members of your family who came out to greet you.

“You arrived right on time for dinner,” your father stated, giving you a one-armed hug and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “I made your favorite.”

“You did?” you exclaimed, gleaming in delight. Your father puffed his chest proudly. “Aw, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Bean,” he replied, evidently pleased to have elicited a good reaction from you. He patted your shoulder before greeting Mingyu. “Mingyu, my boy! Welcome back.”

“Good evening, sir,” Mingyu beamed, shaking hands with your father but the latter pulled him into a hug.

“It’s been a while,” said your father, smiling contently. “How have you been, son?”

“Very well, sir,” your ex-boyfriend replied as he let your father lead him into the house. As they went, you could hear some of their conversation.

“Not as well as I have,” your father chuckled cockily. “Did you know I’ve been hitting the gym these days? Putting in some literal leg work.”

“Nice. Although I already know. Dave told me you were there once every week.”

“Of course. And what an excellent PT he was, Dave. You have my thanks for introducing me to him.”

You caught your mother by the arm as she was passing by you. “Dad’s been going to the gym?”

“Don’t get me started, y/n,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. She leans closer to speak in a quieter voice. “I’m glad that he’s exercising because it’s good for his health, but this thing which he calls ‘gains’ is making him vain and more annoying than usual.”

You snorted, unable to stifle your laughter. Your mother sighed with exasperation before turning to walk away from you. At that moment, you spotted Mingyu with your cousins, making you assume he was snatched away from your father’s grasp. They laughed as they chatted, contributing to the warmth permeating the atmosphere of the entire house. You couldn’t help admiring Mingyu, completely taken by his natural charm and charisma that make it easy for him to be friends with everyone.

Oh, to be Kim Mingyu— outstanding, endearing, compassionate; loved by all who meet him. Visually, he’s remarkably handsome, with his tan skin and prominent features, brilliant eyes that gleam with kindness, and a beautiful smile that lights up his face. He’s quick-witted and intelligent, capable of holding conversations about various subjects at different levels of seriousness. His sense of humor is the cherry on top, bringing laughter and joy to every gathering. He’s incredibly thoughtful too, not to mention caring. Whether it's helping out with chores, lending a listening ear, or surprising them with thoughtful gestures, Mingyu loved your family as much as he loved you. This is why he was able to build a strong connection with them, something you would hate to break if you were to reveal that you two have broken up.

In your family’s eyes, Mingyu is more than just your boyfriend; he's a part of the family, someone they wholeheartedly embrace and admire. Sometimes you’d think you fumbled when you broke up with him but then you get a flashback of the events leading up to the breakup and you realize nobody is perfect; not even the Golden Boy, Kim Mingyu.

“Everything alright?” he asked upon approaching you. He had caught you staring from across the hall while he was catching up with your cousins.

“Yeah. Mom said we should all head to the dining hall for dinner.”

“Sure. Let’s go,” he beamed, placing a hand on your waist as you led the way.

You headed straight to the dining area for dinner, where you got to meet the rest of your family who will be joining you for the weekend. Most of your relatives hold their own Christmas celebrations, the others who don’t get invited for a holiday break by those who want to host. Your mother is an excellent host, and she always sends Christmas invitations to your extended family, regardless of whether they can make it or not. As a matter of fact, Christmas at the Chateau is quite a popular recurring event in your family. That being said, there are always unfamiliar faces each year, as well as regulars who are more tight-knit with your immediate family.

“Dear lord, if it isn’t y/n,” said Aunt Lydia, a distant aunt whom you’ve only met a handful of times because she lived halfway across the globe and only showed up for important family functions. “Last time I saw you, you were wearing braces and corrective glasses. Now you’re a beautiful lady. Isn’t that right, Lena?”

Lena, her daughter, gave you a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. “It’s been a while, y/n.”

“You returned her sweet smile and let her hold your hand. 'Good to see you, Auntie. It’s been a long time. Good to see you too, Lena.' Their eyes were fixed behind you, making you glance back only to realize they were looking at Mingyu. He was chatting with some of your cousins, laughing about things you couldn’t comprehend from where you were standing.

“Is that your boyfriend? Mingyu, was it?” your aunt asked.

Your brows lifted, mildly surprised. “You know about Mingyu?”

“Oh, I heard about him. All good things,” she giggled. “I heard you’ve been together a long time?”

“I guess you could say that,” you chuckled awkwardly. At that same moment, Mingyu caught you looking so he smiled at you and then excused himself from your cousins. “I should introduce you to him.”

As soon as Mingyu was within reach, he snaked an arm around your waist, and you placed a hand on his shoulder as you motioned to your relatives.

“Auntie, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my aunt from Europe. You haven’t met her before because she rarely comes here.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mingyu beamed, leaning towards the elder lady for a brief hug.

“And this is my cousin, Lena.”

“Lena. Nice to meet you,” Mingyu recited, shaking hands with your cousin. The reluctance on Lena’s face when Mingyu didn’t greet her the same way he greeted your aunt did not go unnoticed by you.

“Hi, Mingyu. Pleased to meet you,” she replied, chuckling nervously before backing away and fiddling with the ends of her blonde hair.

As observant as you were, you knew right then and there that Lena was attracted to your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend, although no one knows that yet. Nonetheless, you didn’t think much about it. It’s Kim Mingyu after all, loved by all who meet him. You couldn’t blame anyone who fell for him at first sight as it was the case for you when you first met him all those years ago.

It was at a college party, your third party in a week because everyone was trying to hold one to welcome the new semester. You had just transferred from another campus, and your friends were showing you around. Mingyu was by the poolside of that big house, dunking students into the water as a penalty for losing against him in arm wrestling. He seemed to enjoy the attention too, not shying away from it but not being cocky about it either. Both boys and girls surrounded him, all of them wanting to be friends with the most popular sophomore on campus.

Boys think he is cool, and girls, well, they’re girls—enamored by the handsome specimen, just like you were at that very moment. Daphne was the one who told you his name and added in his reputation for turning down girls without batting an eye. Not that you had any plans of confessing to him anyway. He was cute, yes, but that’s all. In no time, he’ll become nothing but a passing crush.

You were wrong, of course. He talked to you that night, asking for your name. The rest was history.

“So, Mingyu, how was work? I heard you got promoted to regular. Is that true?”

“It is. And work is wonderful. The firm really does live up to its name.”

“As they should,” an uncle of yours chuckled. “The family has been doing business with them for the longest time. We wouldn’t trust them if they weren’t any good.”

“Oh, so you're in business with them?” Mingyu glanced at you, and you shrugged as if to say you had no idea.

Your father hummed in response. “That firm oversees the estate's accounts, as well as the company’s books. You didn’t know, did you?”

'No, sir. I had no idea,' Mingyu responded, astonished.

“The founder, Mr. Harrington, happened to be a family friend,” interjected your eldest brother, Allan, a hint of amusement in his voice. “There were talks about exploring partnerships elsewhere, but when we heard you were working there, Dad seemed to have a change of heart.”

Your father chuckled warmly, eyes twinkling as he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “That’s enough, Al. Don't put pressure on the young man.”

“Oh, right. Speaking of that, is anyone going to the wedding?”

“Whose wedding?”

“Mr. Harrington’s daughter’s wedding. You did receive the invitations, didn’t you?”

Dinner table conversations are often like this; topics that span from individual career pursuits to the latest news in business or finance. As you go through the food, the conversations also transition to mundane topics or updates on family members, such as children’s school performances or how your cousin’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere on their way to the chateau. And then it would circle back to more profound or intellectual subjects.

Mingyu blends in effortlessly in your bunch, almost as if he belonged there to begin with. Given a chance, Mingyu would become the most welcome member of your family if you married him.

“Pathetic,” you mumbled to yourself, ridiculing your line of thought. Marriage with Mingyu? Are you serious? How could you possibly entertain the idea of marrying someone who let you leave without so much as a fight?

Your mood soured in an instant, so you stood up from your seat and excused yourself from the table as they all chatted away. The dinner was over but everyone was too immersed in their conversations to leave the table. Your feet brought you to a balcony overlooking the back garden and the pool area of the estate. It was cold but the tea was warm. Just when you thought you were alone to wallow in self-pity and overthinking, Mingyu's endearing voice called out your name, and his warm jacket settled on your shoulders.

“Everything alright?” he asked, standing behind you as he held your arms. “You left so suddenly.“

“I’m fine. Just a little stuffed,“ you told him, looking far beyond the dark horizon. The night sky was clear, with stars twinkling faintly above. As you took a deep breath, you pondered about the farce you and Mingyu were attempting to pull off this weekend. Is it worth the risk? Like hell, is it even necessary? You should have just told them the truth long ago and got it over with.

“Hey,“ Mingyu prompted, noticing your gloomy disposition. “What’s going on in your pretty little mind?“

You loved it when Mingyu talked to you like this, but not this time though. Given the situation you are in, the only thing he’s making you feel right now is annoyance and frustration.

“Stop that, Gyu,“ you grumbled, pulling away from his embrace. “There’s no need to act all lovey-dovey and sweet.“

Mingyu chuckled and looked around. “And make them wonder why we’re distant? That’s totally gonna convince them that we’re happily in love.“

Happily in-love? How can he say these things so carelessly? “We’re fine. No one’s suspicious.“

“We’ve been here three hours,“ he countered. “Back there, your mom was asking me if you were okay. If we’re going to make this work, shouldn’t we act like we usually do?“

“Fine.“ You rolled your eyes. “Just stick to the rules.“

The rules were simple: stay in character, respect boundaries, don't tell anyone, and end it once you leave the chateau. That’s it. You can’t just walk into this without precautions, can you? So you and Mingyu agreed on these rules, which are more your rules than his. Either way, you intend to be faithful to these rules as it is the only way to prevent this whole thing from spiraling out of control.

You went up first to freshen up and get ready for bed. You scanned the room to see how you’d share it with your ex. Considering Mingyu’s height, the long couch by the balcony would be cramped for him. Sure, he’d fit just fine but he’s the kind of sleeper who likes to sprawl on the bed and take up a lot of space. The floor would be cruel, but it has more space for sure.

“It’s better than the couch, right?” you mused aloud, making your way to the door to request an extra mattress. But hesitating, you withdrew your hand from the doorknob. The floor option suddenly seemed unwise because asking for an extra mattress would surely raise suspicions about the state of your relationship. Opting instead for the balcony couch, you arranged a pillow and sheets for Mingyu. Then after discreetly taking a sleeping pill, you passed out for the day.

Waking up and seeing Mingyu in the morning felt normal, that was until you realized he was across the room instead of right next to you in bed. You took a deep breath as you pushed yourself up, your eyes still fixed on Mingyu’s sleeping figure.

“Must’ve been uncomfortable,” you mumbled to yourself.

The bed you used to share was warm, familiar, and comforting. His arms were strong, providing security as you awoke to his scent and the enveloping warmth of his presence each morning. Sometimes he'd be up and out of bed before you were, and you'd wake up to the nice aroma of coffee waiting for you in the kitchen. Other times, you'd wake him with a simple breakfast of eggs and pancakes, your culinary expertise may have been limited, but your affection was boundless.

There were also times when you'd both wake too early, your passion spurred in the hush of early morning hours. He'd be gentle and quick, but you liked those kinds of mornings. You used to think the mornings you shared with Mingyu were mundane, uneventful, and slow, but looking back, those mornings now shimmer with newfound appreciation. Now that it's gone and you're missing it, you couldn't help but acknowledge the possibility that you might have taken it all for granted.

As you sat on the edge of your bed pondering, Mingyu stirred, taking a deep breath and letting out a long raspy exhale. He blinked at you several times, smiling once his vision became clearer.

“Good morning,” he sang. If you were still together, you’d immediately jump on him for a cuddle. Now that you’re not, it’s difficult to keep a straight face. You don't even know how to properly respond to that simple greeting.

“Morning,” you greeted back. Then again, if you were still together, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch to begin with.

The land where the chateau sat is only a small part of the vast estate that your family owns. If one were to take a quick drive or a ten-minute hike up, they would find a meadow and a lake further ahead. As a child, you had picnics there often, especially in spring. In the winter, a white blanket of snow covers what used to be lush greenery, making it a perfect place for sledding. As such, it became a family activity every Christmas.

You stepped out of Mingyu’s car, blinking at the beautiful white canvas before you. Mingyu uttered a low “wow” as he approached you, smiling toothily while he tightened his padded jacket. You breathed the crisp air, exhaling through your mouth as you did. This wasn’t his first time sledding with your family, or experiencing the expansive landscape of your home. You had shared picnics with Mingyu in these areas, basking in the beauty of spring or summer. Those quiet moments are among your fondest memories with him.

“What do you think?” he asked, eyes gleaming.

You shrugged. “I like it here better in spring.”

Behind you, you could hear the soft thuds of car doors being closed as your family members emerged from their vehicles.

“Oh, look! It’s perfect!” Blair cheered with her hands clasped together in delight.

Your father chuckled heartily beside you and only then did you notice that he had caught up to you. He placed his arm over your shoulder, giving you a side hug as he said to your sister, “What did I tell you? That heavy snowfall last night will do us some good.”

Ecstatic, Blair dragged her husband towards the hill; the latter pulling a sled. Your cousins followed them, and your father too while you stood there pondering your choice to come here. Should you have just stayed with your mom and aunts back at home?

Allan approached Mingyu, giving him a nod. Mingyu smiled back, saying, “Hey, Al.”

“Hey. I don’t know how to say this but…” your brother paused, glanced over his shoulder at the excited children emerging from his car, and then shrugged at Mingyu. “Are you okay with a bunch of kids bothering you all day?”

“What does that even mean?” you interjected, although you weren’t part of the conversation.

“The boys want to go sledding with Mingyu,” Allan sighed, placing his hands on his waist. “Only with Mingyu.”

Mingyu chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Allan probed, looking somewhat apologetic. Mingyu nodded in assurance. “Okay, man. Thanks a lot.”

You watched as Mingyu approached your brother’s truck with a big goofy grin. Your nephews cheered his name before jumping into his arms at the same time. Mingyu laughingly carried the boys off the truck and you found yourself impressed by how strong he was to be able to carry two big kids. Then again, he had always been strong. He works out a lot and his efforts show in his toned physique. You know damn well how ungodly gorgeous he looks underneath those thick layers of clothing.

You gasped, shocked by your lewd thought. Shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind, you muttered, “What the fuck.”

“Come again?” Allan asked cluelessly.

“I was talking to myself,” you deadpanned. Allan said he’ll follow the others up the hill so you nodded at him and told him you’ll stay to take pictures. He didn’t object to that so you grabbed the camera in the car and went to find a good spot to take pictures of everyone.

For the next hour, everyone went up and down the hill in their sleds, their cheers and laughter echoing through the air. Your father was dragging your little niece in her bright pink sled. Daniel and your cousins are on the other side of the hill, having a snowball fight. They would sometimes include you by throwing snowballs at you but you would dodge and threaten to punch them if they didn’t stop– as if your tiny fist would inflict any real pain. Even Allan who was just grinning around got roped into the fight. Blair didn’t give sledding another go after her first time because she didn’t find it ‘as fun as it looked’; so she’s down the hill making a snowman with her husband.

You made sure to take pictures of everyone. As you did, you found your lenses being directed at Mingyu more often than you’d like to admit. You wanted to be pretentious and say it was because he and the kids were adorable, but you knew that you just couldn’t help yourself. He was just too close to your heart and of course, him with kids is impossibly adorable.

“y/n! Show me the pictures!” your sister called so you trekked the snow back to where the cars were parked.

You let them scan through the photos and left to go up and meet your niece and father halfway up the hill. Your father seemed tired so you thought it was best to let him rest and take the kid off his hands.

“I think she’s tired too,” your father said, chuckling as you climbed down. “She must have snoozed on her sled twice.”

“She did?” you asked, turning to your niece. “Did you snooze, baby? Are you tired? Do you wanna go home with Mom?”

The darling little girl just shook her head, her eyes focused on her parents. When they spotted you, your brother-in-law happily took her off your arms. There was a quick chat before they decided to go back to the chateau and call it a day. Everyone followed suit, running down the hill back to the cars after being called back—everyone, except for Mingyu who walked down the other side of the hill instead. You decided to follow him, stopping Allan on your way.

“Where is he going?” you asked your panting brother. He’s got one kid on his shoulders and the other on the sled he was dragging.

“Who?” he asked, following your gaze. “Oh, Mingyu? Charlie’s sled went missing. He said he'd go find it.”

You went after Mingyu, hiking up the hill and trekking down to the other side where you found him heading straight into the sparse woods. Surely the sled didn’t go as far as into the woods, right?

“Kim Mingyu!” you called out, running after him. Your feet sank into the snow as you did, making it a little hard to run fast. “Mingyu!”

Mingyu stopped upon hearing you, turning to look at you and wave. “Come here!”

You frowned when you noticed that he was holding a sled. “Where are you going?”

He didn’t respond but instead, waited for you to catch up to him. As soon as you did, you pointed to what he was holding. “Is that Charlie’s?”

“Yeah, it slid all the way to that tree over there,” he replied, pointing to the tree but you didn’t bother to look.

“And? Where else are you planning to go? Everyone’s leaving.”

Still grinning goofily, he grabbed your gloved hand and said, “Let’s go to the lake.”

“The lake?”

“Yeah. I saw it from up the hill. It looked awesome.”

You scoffed. “It’s probably frozen.”

“I know. Let’s check it out,” he chimed, dragging you but you didn’t budge. That made him stop and glance back at you with a pout.

You looked away, feigning indifference. “It’s this way.”

Mingyu trailed behind you, his hand still tight around yours. While you waded through the snowy path, you tried to remember if you had ever gone to the lake with Mingyu before. You have, a few times, but not in winter. Usually, there was nothing special or pretty about it in winter. As kids, you were forbidden from playing at the frozen lake in case the ice broke and you fell in, so you have never tried it before. There was just no reason to go there, except maybe to look around and pass the time.

“Oh, wow,” he exclaimed upon arriving at the spot.

As expected, it was frozen. It wasn't even the picturesque, crystal-clear kind of frozen, but rather a boring, unremarkable freeze.

Disappointed, you said, “Nothing to see here."

“Are you kidding me? It looks really cool,” he replied, but you knew he was just being polite.

“It’s really not,” you deadpanned.

Mingyu chuckled. “You’re right. It’s not.”

“Okay. Let’s go then,” you retorted, tugging him back to where you came from.

Mingyu resisted, pulling back with enough force to make you lose your balance and bump into him. He held you in place, his face close and his breathing warm against your cheek. With a goofy grin, he asked, “Ever ice-skated on a lake before?”

“No, and this is not that kind of lake.”

“You haven’t ice-skated on a lake before?” he asked incredulously. “But there’s a lake right here.”

“This is a dangerous lake.”

“Why?”

“Because...” you trailed off, searching for an explanation. “To be honest, I'm not even sure why.”

The massive grin on Mingyu’s lips made you roll your eyes. It was the kind of expression that said he wanted to go ice skating on the lake. You’re not even wearing the right shoes. You don’t know how deep the lake goes, and you have no idea how thick the ice has gotten.

“Don’t be stupid, Gyu.”

“Come on! It's gonna be fun!”

“I think you meant 'dangerous'.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.

That made you grumble and stomp your feet a few times. “Ugh, fine!”

It was like releasing a dog from its leash in a park. Hand in hand, Mingyu excitedly rushed to the edge of the lake, where he cautiously tested the ice, first one foot and then the other. He took a few steps around and one small jump– then a big one that caused a surge of panic to grip you.

“Stop! What if it falls through?”

Mingyu threw his head back laughing. “It’s alright, the ice is pretty thick. Come here.”

You stared at the hand he was offering and then shook your head. Mingyu let out a small tut, seizing your hand firmly and guiding you toward the ice. You trod carefully as you went, looking down below at the murky water and wondering if it was solid enough to hold the two of you.

As you approached the center of the lake, Mingyu released your hand momentarily to zip up your jacket snugly. You pouted as he cupped your cheeks, still protesting at his idea of 'fun'.

"Just relax. I've got you. You'll be fine," he reassured, adjusting your beanie to shield your ears from the biting cold. You nodded, gradually getting used to the icy ground beneath your feet.

Just as you began to ease into the moment, breathing freely and feeling the tension in your muscles dissipate, Mingyu suddenly rushed forward, dragging you along with him toward the center. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing uncontrollably.

Your shrieks tore through the quiet air, overlapping with Mingyu’s ecstatic laughter. You clung to his hand tightly, scared for good reason. If the ice breaks and you fall in, at least you won’t die alone–that was what you were thinking as you closed your eyes and let Mingyu run around in circles. And while you grappled with the chaos in your head, his reassuring reverberated through your ears.

"It's okay," he consoled, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I've got you! Open your eyes, baby."

You did as he asked, reluctantly opening your eyes to be greeted by a broad, toothy grin from your charming companion. Was he really persuasive? Or were you simply taken aback by the endearment he just used on you? Yes, you know he had been calling you that ever since you got here so to avoid raising suspicions on your pretense, but why did it send a surge of nostalgia this time?

It almost felt like the relief of finally experiencing something you had missed so dearly.

“See? How fun is this?” he shouted, still running with you.

"Not fun at all!"

"Really?" he asked again, skeptical. "Not even a little?"

Of all the people you have met so far in your life, Mingyu had the most contagious smile which was why he had you smiling in no time. Before you knew it, you were running around the frozen lake, fear and anxiety long forgotten. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and sore from laughing too much. Your shrieks echoed across the icy surface as he took his turn chasing after you. You didn't even notice how your goofing around has turned into a spontaneous game of tag.

Lost in the moment, you lost track of time, the hours slipping away unnoticed as you enjoyed each other's company and indulged the children in you.

“Caught you!” he exclaimed triumphantly, tackling near the edge of the lake, and sending both of you tumbling onto the soft snow.

You lay there breathless and giggling, feeling both exhilarated and euphoric from your shenanigans. Glancing sideways at him, you found him already looking at you, and both of you burst into laughter at each other's flushed faces. The chill of the snow against your neck soon became unbearable, prompting you to sit up. With a playful tap on Mingyu's chest, you urged him to do the same.

“God, I’m so tired,” he complained but the smile on his face never left.

“Yeah. You’re crazy energetic,” you retorted, letting out a long exhale.

Mingyu scooted closer to you, wrapping a hand around your waist. “But you had fun.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned on his chest, comfortable in his warmth. “Yeah. I did.”

“Good. Let’s do that.”

“Do what?” you hummed, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that was engulfing you.

“Oh, you know. Loosen up and take things easy,” he replied and that made you pull away to look at him.

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning we should stop worrying about it.” He tapped your nose affectionately, a warm smile on his lips. “It’s Christmas. Let's have fun.”

You sighed, the weight of your concerns heavy in your mind. "But that's not why we came here."

"I know," he acknowledged with a groan. "We'll get there eventually. For now, let's just... you know... forget about it. Just for now."

He was staring at you intently and you couldn’t help but stare right back. Everything about this moment was overwhelming—the cold, his warmth, his gaze, the proximity—everything. You both sat there face to face, quietly staring and speaking with your eyes only. At one point, it seemed as if you had come to a mutual decision on something, but you sat there waiting for him to make the first move.

“God, you look so beautiful in this light.”

Your heart somersaulted in your chest, but you were so tensed that you tried to humor the nerves away. “Did you just quote Ed Sheeran?”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed slightly, but his affectionate gaze remained. “And you’re so adorable too.”

At this point, your soul has left your body out of sheer joy. Still, you couldn't resist teasing him in response. “Duh, Mingyu. Tell me something I don’t know?”

“I could kiss you right now.”

You exhaled sharply. “Well, don’t be shy now.”

As Mingyu leaned in for a kiss, you closed your eyes in anticipation. You could already feel his breath fanning your face but before his lips could meet yours, the sound of car horns honking nearby shattered the beautiful air enveloping you. Startled, a loud gasp escaped your lips while Mingyu swiftly withdrew.

“What the actual f–” You stood up and spun to see whoever it was and spotted a pickup truck from a distance. Daniel’s head popped out from the window of the driver’s seat, followed by his shouting.

“What are you guys doing out here?” your brother called out, pressing on the horns again. “Everyone’s looking for you back at the chateau!”

You grumbled, stomping your feet as you walked towards the vehicle looking annoyed. Mingyu grabbed the sled he was looking for earlier and followed behind you. When you reached the truck, you stood by Daniel’s window with a deep scowl.

“Everyone thought you guys were dead or something,” he quipped, rolling his windows up just before you started pounding on it irritably.

“What? Can’t I have some alone time with my boyfriend?” you huffed, kicking the tire when you failed to open the door.

Daniel was making faces at you from inside the car while Mingyu chuckled behind you. He gently squeezed your shoulder to calm you down, but you glared at him instead. Mingyu instinctively backed away, raising his hands in surrender.

"Surely you won't take it out on your boyfriend, will you?" he asked with a coy grin. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and seeing this, Mingyu puffed out his chest proudly and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. "I am your boyfriend, right?"

“Gosh, men are so annoying,” you whined, reaching for the backseat door so you could climb into the car.

Making gingerbread houses is a serious activity in your house; it was a while competition between you, your sister, and everyone else who wants to challenge. As such, it has become your favorite activity since you were a child. You were amazing at it and would always come out on top with your intricate designs and sturdy outputs. That was when Mingyu wasn’t in the picture yet. Now, you’ve been on a lose streak for three Christmases in a row and this year doesn’t look promising either.

“Mingyu! Careful with that!” you warned as he placed the roofing for your house. Mingyu froze mid-air, glancing at you nervously.

“I think you should do it,” he pleaded, chuckling nervously.

You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you carefully took the piece from his hand. Mingyu is a good cook, but pastry? Definitely not his forte. His big hands are among your favorite features of his, but it’s useless in any activity that requires careful handling and finesse.

Blair rounded the counter and approached you. She took a big sniff and said, “Hmm, it smells like a loser over here.”

You scoffed, nudging her elbow. “Go away!”

With immense focus, you placed the roofing on your gingerbread house successfully, dusting your hands contently right after.

“You’re so good at this,” Mingyu whispered next to you, beaming. Proud, you scrunched your nose at him and opened your mouth when he offered a piece of bread for you to eat.

“Daniel, dear,” your mother called from the doorway, catching everyone’s attention. “Come help with the tree.”

Daniel skipped across the room to your mom, making your cousin Sydney sigh in relief of finally getting rid of the blackhole in her team.

“Mingyu, you too please.”

Mingyu nodded at her and turned to you to say, “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you replied, not even glancing at him as he scooped your cheek for a kiss. “It’s okay if you don’t. I might have a bigger chance of winning if you don’t.”

“Where are they going?” Lena asked, eyeing the doorway.

“Mom’s probably setting up the Christmas tree for tonight,” you replied.

“Why? Isn’t there already a Christmas tree?” Lena questioned.

“It’s a chateau tradition,” Sydney explained. “Before Christmas Eve dinner, we decorate a tree as a whole family using special ornaments.”

“Special ornaments?”

Aunt Lydia, interjected, “Ornaments that hold sentimental value, Lena. This house has been in the family for generations and has seen over a hundred Christmases. Our family loves to look back and think about the history that has shaped this very family into who we are today.”

Lena hummed in amazement. “That’s so awesome and special.”

“It is.” You smiled, mirroring the fond looks on Blair and Sydney’s faces.

“It’s pompous if I do say so myself,” said a familiar voice entering the kitchen hall. You spun to see your Aunt Sylvie walk in with a charismatic air about her. She sauntered in, heels clicking on the floors. “It’s a reminder that we are high-born snobs. Trust fund babies who never have to work a day in our life and still live a life of luxury.”

“Oh, god,” Sydney muttered beside you, looking mortified. “She’s so late.”

“Hello, children,” she lilted, winking at you specifically when you met her gaze. Your heart felt full, forever in awe of your favorite relative.

“Sylvie?” your Aunt Lydia exclaimed.

Sylvie’s smile got redirected. “How nice of you to finally join us, Lydia. I couldn’t believe it when they told me.”

They both laughed as they embraced. Lena’s mom grinned playfully at aunt Sylvie. “Still living the high-born snobbish life?”

Sylvie tutted confidently. “It’s what I do best.”

At first glance, Aunt Sylvie is no different from the rest of the family, but she’s the wild card. In a family known for its polished manners and prestigious accomplishments, she stood out like a rose in a garden of daisies. She lives a privileged life while staying unapologetically herself. Her laugh was always loud and infectious, her stories filled with both gossip and adventures.

“Going for the win this year, huh?” Aunt Sylvie remarked as she examined your work.

“That’s the plan,” you replied with a grin.

“Well, good luck. You have my vote, no matter what,” she promised, reaching for the wine bottle on the counter.

Blair protested, “Hey, that’s cheating!”

“Playing favorites, that’s what it is,” Sydney pouted. Aunt Sylvie giggled, sauntering over to Sydney and planting a playful kiss on her cheek. Sydney just rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re still my favorite daughter,” Sylvie teased, tucking a strand of Sydney’s hair behind her ear before strolling away with her glass of red wine.

“That’s because I’m your only daughter!” Sydney shouted after her, a smile tugging at her lips as her mother exited the kitchen.

Mingyu, Daniel, and Sydney’s boyfriend, Luke, burst into the kitchen, their laughter and chatter filling the room. Everything was going smoothly until Mingyu bounded over to you, knocking over your intricately decorated gingerbread Christmas tree. The tree, which you had painstakingly adorned with candy ornaments and icing, was supposed to be the crowning jewel of your work. Now, it lay in a heap of crumbs on the kitchen floor.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, staring blankly at the mess. “Kim Mingyu…”

“Oh, damn, did I do that?” he asked, looking genuinely bewildered. Neither of you could figure out how it happened; one moment it was standing, and the next it was on the floor.

Allan’s wife looked over, her eyes widening at the sight. “Oh, no, Y/N,” she exclaimed sympathetically.

Everyone else hurried over to see what had happened, their faces mirroring the same look of pity for you.

“I knew it smelled like a loser over here,” Blair snickered, unable to resist the jab.

The room fell silent for a moment before you managed a rueful smile. “Well, there goes my masterpiece.”

Mingyu sheepishly picked up a piece of gingerbread. “I’ll help you rebuild it,” he offered, his tone earnest and apologetic.

Daniel couldn’t hide his grin. “And destroy it again for good measure.”

The room was soon filled with laughter and playful teasing, all at your expense. You just took it in stride, although you were a little disheartened. Amidst all that, Mingyu pulled you into a warm hug, even kissing the top of your head.

“That’s okay, baby. Winning is great, but it’s nothing if you didn’t have fun doing it together,” he consoled you, although you could tell he was just teasing you like everyone else.

“Go away,” you scolded playfully.

It was as if you had never broken up at all. You shared more than just the playful moments at the lake or sweet displays of affection in the kitchen. During the family tree decorating, you and Mingyu were wrapped in your own world, laughing and giggling as you both struggled to untangle a string of lights—only to end up getting scolded for not helping enough.

For the Christmas Eve dinner, you wore an elegant green dress that received a dramatic round of applause from Mingyu. He stood up, clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm and making everyone laugh. You joined your family at a beautifully set dinner table, sharing stories and laughter over the delicious meal. You sat opposite Mingyu, which gave you both the perfect excuse to exchange loving glances throughout the evening, basking in the warmth and acceptance from everyone around you.

After dinner where Blair won the gingerbread house contest for the second time in a row, everyone gathered in the movie room, snuggling together under warm blankets. Your head rested on Mingyu’s chest, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder. Both of you felt content and at home in each other’s embrace. As the movie ended, the younger kids were tucked into bed, and the older family members began to retire to their rooms. You and your cousins had other plans.

In the cozy warmth of the game room, where you and the other young adults gathered for some unchaperoned bonding time of your own, the game of charades became wildly competitive and chaotic. You and Sydney huddled together on a big sofa, guessing the answers that the boys were acting out, groaning and cheering with everyone else as the game progressed. Drinks flowed freely, light and festive, keeping spirits high.

At one point, when the game got boring, everyone settled in front of the fire, sharing stories and cracking jokes. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on your faces, and the room was filled with the comforting sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. Everything was perfect, beautiful new memories were being made.

And then Mingyu managed to convince you to go out for a walk. Bundled up in sweaters and padded jackets, you clung to his arm for support, letting the cool winter evening sober you up. Mingyu kept cracking jokes, and you laughed like you were in a stand-up comedy bar. This went on until both of you reached the pool and decided to turn back.

The weather was cold, but the atmosphere was warm and sweet. And the smell—strangely enough, you enjoyed the sweet, smoky scent coming from the chimneys, much like how some people find the earthy smell after a rain shower pleasant and refreshing.

“What are you thinking about?" Mingyu asked, slinging his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

“Nothing, I…” you took a deep breath as you started walking back to the main house. "I just love Christmas.”

“I can see why,” he chuckled lightly, pressing a quick peck on the side of your head.

You rolled your eyes and moved your head a few inches away from him. “Hey, that’s rule number one.”

“Actually, it’s rule number two,” he corrected, grinning. “And can I please break it?”

“You’re only asking me that now? Literally, after you were done breaking it?”

Mingyu nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Gosh, you’re so…” you huffed incredulously, taking his arm off your shoulder and walking ahead of him.

“Wait. Let’s go together,” he called, chuckling.

When he caught up to you, he held your hand and intertwined your fingers. His smile was warm, and also very goofy. You scoffed and laughed, unable to hide how charmed you were by him. Quietly, you trekked back to the house, your breaths visible in the cold air.

“Hot tub?” he asked as soon as you were in front of your bedroom door.

You were taken aback by the offer. “What?”

Mingyu chuckled nervously, equally flustered. He then cleared his throat and tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t mean… that. I meant you should get a warm bath in the hot tub before… Ugh, fuck.”

Mingyu turned away, burying his face in his palms and muttering curses under his breath. You, on the other hand, were still processing the situation. You were shocked that he was offering the hot tub, only to find out he didn’t mean it the way you understood it.

“God, it’s in my head now.”

“What is?” you asked, belatedly realizing it was a bad question. You should have known what he was trying to say. The hot tub in the bathroom of your bedroom was a very intimate place for the two of you. A hiccup escaped your lips as you put two and two together.

Awkwardly, you pushed the door open and said, “I’m gonna go ahead.”

You walked briskly inside the bedroom, eager to avoid being in the same space as Mingyu. But then you turned around and saw that he had walked inside too. How did you even forget that you were sharing this room?

There was a moment of silence as you both stood there, tension wrapping the room. Mingyu finally broke the ice, his voice soft and hesitant. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things weird.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, it’s okay. I just… didn’t expect it.”

Mingyu took a step closer. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t even mean it that way.”

You smiled faintly, feeling the warmth of his sincerity. “I know. Thanks, Mingyu.”

He grinned, the awkwardness slowly melting away. “How about I start the bath for you?”

You nodded, appreciating the gesture. “That would be nice.”

Mingyu moved to the bathroom, and you heard the sound of water filling the tub. You took off your jacket and sat on the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts. Soon, Mingyu returned, his eyes gentle as he said, “It’s ready.”

You stood up and walked to the bathroom, pausing at the doorway. “Do you want to join me? I mean, it was cold out there.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he smiled softly. “You said that’s rule number two.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“Is it alright with you?”

You nodded again, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “It is.”

Both of you undressed and slipped into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you in a soothing embrace. Mingyu sat across from you, his eyes never leaving yours. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable, the heat of the water matched by the growing warmth between you.

Mingyu reached out, his hand finding yours under the water. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured.

I’ve missed you, you screamed in your head. You could never say it out loud, so you just squeezed his hand gently and said, “Me too.”

The bath was a haven of warmth and quiet conversation, the water relaxing your muscles and easing the tension between you. After a while, you both got out and dried off, slipping into comfortable pajamas.

Back in the bedroom, you climbed into bed, tapping the space beside you when you saw Mingyu heading for the couch. He took your invitation and slid in beside you. You both lay there in the dark, the silence a total contrast to the chaos in your head. Finally, he turned towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck.

“Goodnight,” you replied, your voice soft and content.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the awkwardness of the evening was replaced by a comforting sense of closeness. The warmth of his embrace and the sound of his breathing lulled you to sleep, both of you feeling at home in each other’s arms once more.

Waking up beside Mingyu felt like stepping back in time, the familiarity of his presence was bittersweet. He lay there, peaceful in the soft glow of the winter morning. You were just beginning to forget how it felt like to wake up next to him, now here he is, looking as breathtaking as you remembered him to be. This whole pseudo-relationship setup truly was a bad idea because you can already picture yourself resetting your moving-on process back to Day 1.

Or maybe, by the end of this, there will be no need to forget and move on, you pondered to yourself, feeling hopeful.

You fought with the urge to reach out and touch him, to let your fingers trace the lines of his face, reminding yourself that you were no longer in that kind of relationship. After all, you had made it clear that this was no longer that kind of relationship.

But wait… Why were you so hesitant about touching him? You were literally in the same hot tub the night before, bare and naked. Why would you be so wary about something as innocent as running your fingers through his hair? Hadn't you already crossed boundaries far more intimate than this?

Swallowing your pride and the lump in your throat, you slowly extended a hand to touch his face. Slowly, carefully, making sure you don’t wake him up. Just as you were feeling the warmth emanating from his skin, the ringing of your phone on the nightstand snapped you back into reality. Cursing under your breath, you snatched the phone from the nightstand, the name "Daphne" flashing insistently on the screen.

Your movements made Mingyu stir, groaning lowly as he stretched his legs out; sleepy eyes directed at you. With a raspy voice, he said, “Hi.”

“Hi. Sorry,” you mouthed, phone pressed on your ear. “Daph, hello. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you while you’re spending the holidays with your beau– oh, ex-beau,” she teased, snickering from the other line. “How is it? Have you got back together yet?”

“Please shut up,” you laughed nervously, eyeing Mingyu. You excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to speak with your friend in private.

“I guess it’s not going so well, huh?” she asked just as you were locking the bathroom door.

“Daph, the purpose of this trip is not to get back together,” you insisted, rolling your eyes although she could not see it. “Where did you even get that idea?”

Grumbling, you snatched your toothbrush and put toothpaste on it to clean your teeth with.

“I don’t know. Maybe from my exuberant interior designer who was just shopping with me the other day,” she retorted, poking fun at you. “Alright, I’m sorry. I was just teasing you. I actually called to let you know that I got called into the store because some materials came in that I don’t remember ordering. So, naturally, I assumed these are for the renovations?”

“What are they?” you asked back with the toothbrush still in your mouth.

“It says here that these are gold-plated clothing racks, premium quality.”

You hummed, confused. “I didn’t order anything like that.”

“Oh, is that so? Alright. Maybe I did. Or someone I know,” she sighed and tutted. “Anyway, I’ll sort this out. Sorry to bother you.”

“Call me anytime, Daph,” you told her, your eyes darting to the bathroom door when you heard a loud thud from outside.

“I will. Tell everyone I said ‘hi’. And don’t swoon over your ex too much.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, exasperated.

“Merry Christmas, sugar.”

“Merry Christmas.”

When you pushed through the door, you found Mingyu sitting on the edge of the bed, looking dazed with messy hair and a tired stare. He lifted his gaze when he noticed you, and flattened his lips into a sleepy smile.

“What happened?” you asked worriedly, taking notice of the blanket and pillow on the floor.

“Oh, nothing, I just…” Mingyu sighed, scratched his neck, and stretched it sideways. “I fell.”

You gawked at him. “You fell?”

He nodded, sheepish. You exhaled sharply, not even surprised. Mingyu, as big as he is, is by far the clumsiest person you’d ever met.

“Go wash up,” you instructed, walking towards the pile of beddings to pick them up. Instead of heeding your order, Mingyu snatched you by the waist, making you squeal as he swept you up and fell on the bed with you.

You tried to free yourself from his arms, but he was stronger than you by miles. “Let me go, Gyu.”

He hummed his disapproval and nuzzled on your neck. “Let’s stay in bed all day today, okay?”

“No,” you whined, squirming but he pinned you down. Despite your efforts to escape, he only seemed to take it as a challenge, launching into a relentless tickle attack.

“Kim Mingyu! No!” you warned sternly, pointing your index finger at him in an attempt to assert authority..

The grin that he gave you was menacing. “Kim Mingyu, yes.”

“Mingyu, I swear to God I will— aaaagh!” Shrieks and laughter filled your bedroom, along with Mingyu’s taunting and deep grunts each time you kicked his shins or punched his chest. He kept going until tears started streaming from your eyes from too much laughter. Only when your pleading voice began cracking did Mingyu stop.

“Gosh. You’re so annoying!” you sobbed, infuriated. He laid beside you on the bed, wrapping you back in his embrace.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I was just playing around with you.”

“Well, it was not fun! Playing is supposed to be fun!” you scolded, swatting his arm away.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he shushed.

But you continued whining. “No, you’re not!”

You managed to get away from him and leave the bed to slump on the sofa and sulk. Mingyu sighed, although he looked genuinely apologetic. He always teased you like this, knowing how ticklish you were. And you always responded this way too, sulking and whining as much as you want.

“Baby…” he called softly, making his way to you.

“Don’t you call me that!” you retorted sharply.

Mingyu chuckled. “Okay, sweetheart.”

You scoffed. “What are you, my mom?”

“Then, ‘honey’ maybe?” he chimed. You pushed him away with your foot, but he kept himself rooted in place, easily.

“Go away!”

"What about, 'darling'?" he continued, kneeling before you as he set your foot back down. He placed a gentle kiss on your knee, his lips lingering before trailing up your thigh. "My angel?"

The way he caressed your thigh tickled you in a way that was entirely different from what he did a while ago. This time was more sensitive, and pleasant… very pleasant.

“My love?” he sang, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

You snatched your hand back, sighing as you scooted a little on the couch. “Stop it.”

Mingyu occupied the space next to you, touching your chin and lifting it so your eyes would meet his. “Why? I said I was sorry. Do you hate me for real?”

"No," you admitted with a pout, looking away. He gently redirected your gaze back to him.

You held his gaze, still scowling, but Mingyu's sweet smile softened your expression. He studied your face as if he didn’t already know it by heart, his eyes lingering on your lips. You flattened them together to discourage his advances, but he only chuckled and tapped your nose.

“You’re so cute,” he remarked.

You scoffed. “I know. Can’t say the same for you, though.”

Mingyu threw his head back in laughter before fixing his gaze on your lips again. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you, but before it could happen, loud knocks on your bedroom door interrupted the moment. Mingyu rose to open the door, revealing your oldest brother dressed as Santa Claus, complete with a fluffy white beard and a jolly laugh.

“Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, children!” Allan greeted, drawing candies from his bag and throwing them in the air.

“Ha ha. It’s Santa,” you deadpanned, unamused.

Allan looked at Mingyu and then at you. “Good. You’re both decent. Let’s go open some gifts.”

He then walked away with his Santa laugh, while Mingyu beckoned you to the door. You said you’d wait for him, so he hurried to the bathroom to freshen up and while he was in there, you were scolding yourself for the way things are going. You kept reminding yourself that there is no getting back together, just making your family happy. That conversation with Daphne was a needed wake-up call.

“Are you ready?” Mingyu asked when he stepped out of the bathroom. You nodded and so you went to join your parents together.

Everyone’s gathered in the living room, some of them still yawning and out of it. The kids were excited, jumping around and rushing to Mingyu when they saw you two descending the stairs.

A younger kid, wide-eyed with excitement, piped up, "Your friend is not coming today, Mingyu?"

"Yeah, the Grinch friend!" another kid exclaimed.

“Grinch! Grinch! Grinch!”

You chuckled, knowing exactly who they were referring to. It was from last year when Daniel was Santa and Mingyu decided to come as The Grinch. But instead of ruining Christmas, he spoiled the kids with huge supplies of chocolates and sweets. You can still remember how the moms reacted to that— mad. But since he’s Mingyu, he got away with it.

As the family gathered around the Christmas tree, you all took turns opening presents. Santa, aka Allan, gleefully announced each gift, adding to the festive atmosphere. Then, amidst the wrapping paper and excitement, you heard Santa call out that Mingyu had something for you. You were surprised, considering you had agreed not to exchange gifts this year.

With a sheepish grin, Mingyu handed you a small box. Inside was a delicate necklace, simple yet elegant, just your style. You couldn't help but smile, touched by the gesture.

“Thank you,” you told him, examining the jewelry.

“You’re welcome,” he chimed, his hand pressed in the middle of your back.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” your father prompted after a few seconds. “Put it on her!”

“Yeah!”

For the amusement of your family, Mingyu put the necklace on you himself, his fingers deftly fastening the clasp as everyone watched with amusement. It was small moments of intimacies like this that will convince your family that everything is fine— that Mingyu is a part of you, of them.

The excitement of opening gifts soon subsided, and a long table of breakfast buffet was brought in for those who wanted to eat. While you sat to eat with some of your family members, the others went out to play in the snow. You watched them from the large windows, smiling absent-mindedly as Mingyu, in his element, was building a snowman with your niece while fending off the snowballs being thrown at him by the little boys. He was so good with the kids and they loved him so much for it.

“So, when did you two get back together?” your Aunt Sylvie prompted casually as she sliced through her waffles.

Caught off-guard, you blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I thought you broke up with him?” she asked again and suddenly, the vivid memory of you drunk calling your aunt and wailing about how you broke up with Mingyu flashed in your mind.

You opened your mouth to speak but your other cousin Felicity cut you off. “You guys broke up?”

“What? When?” Blair chimed in, visibly confused.

Aunt Sylvie erupted into laughter, though a hint of awkwardness lingered beneath her merriment. “Sorry, y/n. I got you mixed up with your other cousin. She and Billy parted ways over the summer.”

“Right,” you acknowledged, a wave of relief washing over you as the memory of your tipsy phone call to Aunt Sylvie resurfaced.

“Oh, of course, Auntie Sylvie. Tricia was here with her new boyfriend.”

“Hmm. I know. I thought it was Billy, to be honest. She certainly has a type,” she told Sydney who just giggled.

Sydney's voice rang out with conviction. “There’s no way y/n and Mingyu would break up.”

"Of course." Aunt Sylvie's laughter gradually subsided as the misunderstanding was clarified. “Say, Blair, aren’t you due to give birth this month?”

“No. Seriously,” Sydney interjected, her tone firm. “I know people break up all the time, but y/n and Mingyu are just… different. They’re so in love, it’s actually enviable sometimes.”

“That’s true. They’re so compatible, it’s almost hard to believe such a relationship exists,” your cousin added, her words laced with admiration.

“Guys…” you chimed in, feeling a mix of embarrassment and guilt as all eyes turned to you.

“Have you seen Mingyu? That guy is down bad.”

“Agreed. So bad. He’s in deep,” Sydney chuckled, reminiscing. “Did you know he used to bring her flowers every day when we were in college? Every. Single. Day.”

“He even sang to her once,” Blair teased, shooting you a playful look. “Which was adorable, considering he’s not a singer.”

“Definitely not.”

“So he’s a simp?” one person quipped, prompting laughter from the group.

“But did you see the way he looked at her?” Lena interjected. “I’ve only met the guy this weekend, but I can tell by the way they look at each other.”

“Yeah, we’ve seen it, Len. You should see them when they’re playing or just hanging out by themselves. They are in love.”

“And even when we’re all gathered together, these two always have their own world. It's like they’re here, but they are also in their own separate bubble at the same time.”

“He’s so sweet too. He seemed to know exactly how to make y/n feel confident and pretty and loved… You know what I’m saying?”

“Honestly!” one of your older cousins affirmed. “One time my little girl asked me why her dad and I weren’t as sweet as you guys.”

Felicity snickered. “Yeah. I was there at the time, and when I tell you, I screamed!”

“She’s four, guys. Four. She doesn’t even know that my name is not ‘Mom’,” she added, eliciting laughter from the group.

“Well, my sister said she’ll find herself someone like Mingyu,” Sydney recounted, causing Aunt Sylvie to gasp.

“Rue? She said that?”

“Oh, yeah, she did. You better watch out, y/n. She might come for your man when she finds out how hard it is to find someone remotely close.”

The perception of a "perfect" couple often serves as a beacon of hope for others, a shining example of enduring love in a world filled with uncertainty. People hold onto these ideals, weaving fantasies of their own fairytale romance inspired by the ideal relationship they see before them. But what happens when that illusion is shattered?

If you and Mingyu were their definition of true love, the news of your breakup would undoubtedly come as a shock to those who idolized your relationship. It might even shake the foundation of their belief in lasting love, causing them to question if such a thing truly exists. Will it be your fault if little children like Sabrina’s daughter stop believing in true love?

But the truth is, you and Mingyu were never meant to be seen as perfect or ideal. Like any other couple, you had your flaws and imperfections, but you chose to keep them to yourselves. Your struggles were kept behind closed doors, known only to you and Mingyu as you worked through them together. No one ever witnessed your arguments or disagreements because you believed you must not involve other people in your private business. And perhaps it was this commitment to privacy that led others to believe that your breakup was impossible. But as much as they may have wanted to believe in the fairytale of your love story, the reality is that relationships are complex and sometimes, they don't end happily.

So no, it wouldn't be your fault if people stopped believing in love because of your breakup. Love is not defined by the length of a relationship or the perceived perfection of a couple. It's a journey filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, and sometimes, even endings. And while your breakup may have shattered the illusion of a fairytale romance for some, it doesn't change the fact that what you had was beautiful and the love that they witnessed was true.

Blair’s hand on your arm pulled you out of your musings. With a smile, she said, “I’m not trying to skip ahead or anything, but if you and Mingyu do end up getting married, it will probably be the best match I have ever seen in my entire life.”

“Amen!” Felicity cheered, raising her glass in the air. The others did the same, except you who gazed outside the window where you could see Mingyu.

As if aware that someone was watching him, Mingyu glanced back at you, waving happily when he spotted you.

The festivities continued in your home for the rest of the day, with everyone doing their own thing but in the same room. Kids were running around, and adults were chatting over wine and snacks. You joined your mother at the stairs as she watched the festivities with a fond look on her face.

“Look at them,” she told you when you approached her and wrapped your arms around her waist.

You hummed, looking at your family. “Yeah. They’re so noisy.”

Your mother chuckled heartily, rubbing your back. “But don’t you just love this sight? Everyone is smiling and laughing. Everyone is present to spend Christmas with us.”

“Yeah, well. I guess it’s nice,” you replied, feigning indifference despite understanding her sentiments. Like her, you breathed a contented sigh, watching your family.

“You know, I didn’t grow up with Christmas traditions. Unlike most families, mine didn’t care much for Christmas,” she began, making you glance at her. “Your grandparents divorced when I was little. They would send a gift and a card each year but I knew neither of them picked those for me. It was probably their assistants. There is no way my father would know I liked unicorns,” she laughed heartily.

“That’s terrible. I could never imagine a Christmas that’s different from what we have every year,” you confessed.

“I know. Marrying your father gave me the chance to celebrate something so beautiful with a family who may not be the most perfect but just as special.”

Your eyes were fixed on your father, dancing groovily in the middle of the room to an old tune your uncle had just put on. He pointed at your mother, beckoning her to join him. She did, happily so. Everyone cheered as they danced together, ever-loving and sweet to each other. It was a heartwarming sight, and you realized that if there’s a couple to look up to, it’s your parents—the most compatible pair. She was the calm to his storm, the peace to his chaos. He brought color to her monotonous life. While he spoke impulsively, she grounded him with thoughtful words. While he spoiled you and your siblings, she kept the household in check. They were the perfect balance, each complementing the other. When they said there was a woman behind every successful man, they must have been right.

You watched fondly as everyone cheered for your parents, the other couples eventually joining in. Your eyes met Mingyu’s in the crowd, and he gestured for you to join him on the dance floor. You shook your head briskly. If there’s one thing you’d never do, it’s dancing in front of other people.

“Come on, love!” he called out again.

“No way. I’ll pass. Have fun, though.”

He insisted, and soon your other relatives joined in, urging you to dance. But you stood your ground. When Mingyu started walking towards you, you bolted up the stairs, heading straight for your bedroom. Mingyu was hot on your tail, calling your name playfully while you shrieked. You fumbled with the door, trying to lock it as soon as you got inside, but Mingyu pushed through before you could bolt it shut.

“There is no parallel universe where you can outrun me, baby,” he breathed, pulling you by the waist so you’re flush against him.

“I’d still try, though,” you exclaimed, breathless and laughing, as Mingyu wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around the room. “You never give up, do you?”

“It depends on the fight, honestly,” he confessed, making you stop as you began overthinking again. However before you could form a coherent thought, Mingyu gave you a lift.

It made you laugh, and when your feet touched the floor again, you eased into the moment, staring at Mingyu as you swayed around the room. The music was faint and barely audible, coming all the way from the great hall downstairs. You had always known you were a terrible dancer, but Mingyu was good at it. It was easy to follow his lead, almost as easy as getting lost in the depths of his gaze. You were completely absorbed, totally entranced. How could you not be when he looked at you like his life depended on it?

“You're doing great,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. His hand on your waist guided you gently, and you felt a surge of confidence.

“I know I’m not good, Gyu,” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to lie.”

"But you’re perfect now," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just follow me."

With each step, you fell into a rhythm, moving together in a seamless dance. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in until it felt like there was nothing but the two of you, swaying in the quiet of your bedroom and making a memory you probably would never forget.

“You make it easy,” you whispered, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the dance.

Mingyu's smile widened, and he spun you gently, bringing you back into his arms with a flourish. “You make everything better,” he said softly.

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, he dipped you low, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly. As he brought you back up, your faces were inches apart, his breath warm on your face.

The world around you blurred and the faint music from downstairs became a distant hum. All you could see, all you could feel, was Mingyu. The intensity of his gaze, the way his arms held you so securely, the way his lips hovered just a breath away from yours.

Unable to resist any longer, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft at first, then deepened as the emotion between you surged. The kiss was a blend of longing, unspoken words, and unfulfilled promises, and it felt like coming home. It was like you lost something and only found it now. It felt like you belonged there; like this is the only thing you have and will ever know.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he said, making you scoff.

“Are you regretting it?”

“No!” he denied, throwing his head back as he laughed. “I just didn’t think you would let me.”

You playfully hit his arm, and he caught your hand, still chuckling. You rested your head on his chest, swaying gently with him. After a moment, Mingyu stopped and took a deep breath.

“So…“ he began, making you look up at him. “Do you wanna… make out or something?“

You laughed incredulously, both embarrassed and amused. “Why are you acting like we’re teenagers?“

“I haven’t really grown much after my teenage years,“ he said, shrugging. “So this has basically been my height since I was eighteen. You know, I was taller than my dad, which was crazy because—“

You cut him off with a kiss, frustrated by his nervous rambling. That's just another reason why he’s so endearing; he becomes a blabbering mess when he's nervous.

“You’re yapping,” you told him after parting from his lips. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.”

Mingyu laughed nervously. “That’s the thing. It’s you… I’m nervous because it’s you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning. “You think sweet talk will sweep me off my feet?”

He shrugged. “Not really, but I do know how to sweep you off your feet.”

“How?”

Without warning, Mingyu lifted you into his arms, literally sweeping you off your feet, and carried you over to the bed. You both fell onto the mattress, you giggling and him grinning mischievously. He lay next to you, staring at you for a second before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss.

“I’m not nervous anymore,” he boasted, grinning against your lips.

You just laughed, leaning to give him a peck on the lips. As you lay entwined with Mingyu, the winter afternoon light filtered by the curtains cast gentle shadows across the room. His fingers traced delicate patterns down the length of your arm, evoking a shiver of anticipation. His lips crashed into yours again, and this time you welcomed him with vigor; tugging at the back of his neck and grabbing a handful of his hair as he deepened the kiss.

His hand found your waist, squeezing firmly as your tongues melded together in the kiss. You pouted when he pulled away, only to let out a faint moan when his mouth moved to your neck.

“Is this okay?” he asked as he slowly tugged the sleeves off your shoulder and planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin.

“Yes,” you told him, ignoring the screams of protest in your head. “It’s more than okay.”

Mingyu exhaled sharply, your permission making him more ravenous. His mouth scaled your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of your collarbone and shoulder blade. You didn’t even notice that he had stripped you off of your dress until you felt his hand roaming your bare torso.

“Mingyu…” you echoed. In the intimacy of the moment, you realized just how much you had missed his touch, how his every caress seemed to awaken a yearning that you didn’t realize was very strong until now. His lips found yours again in a tender kiss, a silent promise of the passion that lay ahead.

“I’ve missed you, y/n,” he breathed, caressing your cheek. “I was so lost without you.”

You held his gaze, tenderly and lovingly as you reached for his face and leaned to kiss him. “You’ve found me, Gyu. I’m right here.”

He kissed you again, only briefly before he sat up to discard his shirt far across the room. He then hovered over you, his gaze intense as he took in the view of your nakedness before him. Dipping low, he kissed your lips, then your neck, down to your collarbone, and then your chest where your heart is. His gentle hands cupped your clothed bosoms in a firm grasp as his lips moved further down to your belly.

And amidst the whirlwind of sensations, your mind is in a mess knowing that this moment will inevitably lead to something more. You knew all too well the consequences of surrendering to this desire, the inevitable pain that would follow. You should not. You must not. This is the worst that could happen. These thoughts, equipped with detailed explanations, swirled in your head in an attempt to drag you away from the lure of desire.

But in the heat of the moment, you stared into Mingyu’s eyes as he positioned his head between your legs, one finger stroking your moistened underwear. Right then, your rationality fell apart and you ignored its calls. Then again, when have you ever listened to reason?

A gasp escaped your lips as soon as Mingyu’s tongue did what it came to do. His every stroke sent ripples of pleasure throughout your body, numbing your mind. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, moaning and calling out his name. As if he wasn’t already doing too much, Mingyu pushed a finger inside for good measure. You could feel your body twitching as the tease of release neared, and your eyes blurred with too much stimulation.

Please don’t stop, you screamed, but only in your head. Mingyu, however, stopped at that very moment, sitting up on the bed and gazing at your fucked out expression. His grin was menacing, satisfied by the view before him.

“You love that, don’t you?” he lilted, licking his lips cockily. Watching him unbuckle his belt almost made you cry as every fiber of your being begged for him to touch you again, to be one with him in body and soul.

“Mingyu…” you pleaded, not even hiding your desperation. Mingyu hurriedly hovered over you, kissing your forehead and caressing your face.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he said sweetly, kissing your lips and laughing when you chased after it. “I’m right here.”

Mingyu would never make you wait; he could not. He’s weak against your pleas and his fervor is about fifty times more than yours. So he gave you what you both wanted, pushing into you languidly with one movement. You whimpered due to the agonizing pleasure, back arching towards him as your body responded. His thrusts and unrestrained grunts had you spiraling, your nails embedded in his skin as you held onto him for dear life.

Worried you were being too loud, you bit your lip to stifle your moans, giving Mingyu a pleading look as you stared at each other. He smirked at you and stopped moving for a second. Without a warning, he did a sudden, hard, heavy, and deep thrust that had you yelping in bliss.

“Bite your lips again, I dare you.”

You raised an eyebrow, clueless but only momentarily. Breathless and hoarse, you asked, “Why not?”

“I want to hear you.”

Did he really think you disliked his little ‘punishment’ in any way? Feeling mischievous, you challenged him by biting your lips once more, making him ram into you roughly again. You bit back your moans so he did it again. Once more, and twice, until he finally realized that you were doing it on purpose.

Laughing darkly, Mingyu ducked to kiss you, his lips moving to your cheek and then nibbling on your ear before whispering, “You naughty naughty little lady.”

And so you surrendered yourself to him completely, losing yourself in the sweet oblivion of his touch. His hand explored every inch of your body, tracing the outlines of your curves with a gentle touch that left you breathless. Your bodies danced to the rhythm of desire and you cried each other’s names in ecstasy brought by release. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.

You’ve done it, y/n, you told yourself. You’ve passed the point of no return.

You lay nestled against Mingyu, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm wrapped around you securely, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your back. The warmth of his skin against yours was a stark contrast to the cold that loomed beyond the windows, and you sighed contentedly, feeling utterly at peace.

Mingyu shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up to cover you both more snugly. "Are you warm enough?" he asked softly, his voice low and gentle.

You nodded, nuzzling closer to him. "Perfectly warm," you whispered.

He tightened his hold on you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing. You felt his hand travel up to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands, soothing and calming.

"Do you remember your first Christmas up here? We were sledding all afternoon and got caught in a snowstorm?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips at the memory.

Mingyu chuckled, a deep, warm sound that vibrated through his chest. "Yeah. It snowed hard that time. We had to hide in the cabin across the estate."

You hummed. “It was so cold. And the fireplace wouldn’t work."

"We had to keep each other warm," he added, laughing softly. His eyes met yours, filled with the same warmth and affection you felt. "Best snowstorm ever."

You sighed, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the moment. It felt so natural, so right, to be in his arms again.

As the minutes ticked by, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a state of near-sleep. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours—it was all so familiar, yet achingly new. You knew this would end, that reality would creep back in, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the moment, to let yourself be wrapped up in him.

“I wish we could stay like this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We can, for a little while longer,” Mingyu replied, his voice equally soft. “Let's just enjoy this, okay?”

You nodded, a sense of calm washing over you. “Okay,” you agreed, snuggling closer.

But then your thoughts became too much to contain, one question repeatedly echoing in your head. “What about after this?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu inquired, opening his eyes slightly.

You pulled away from him, moving back a little so you could see his face properly. “What happens after this?”

Mingyu chuckled sleepily, pulling you back into his embrace. “Is that necessary? We’re having lots of fun. Let’s not spoil it with depressing conversations.”

His response stirred something in you—rage. A blind rage that made the veins on your forehead pulse. You exhaled sharply, pulling away again. “Why are we doing this?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

“We came here to fool my family, Gyu. Not for...” you paused, looking at the cozy state of your bed. “...this. Whatever this is!”

You kicked the sheets off your legs and stood up at once, pacing the room as you massaged your aching temples.

“Baby, come on,” Mingyu sang, following after you to pull you into his arms. You let him hug you, pressing your cheek against his chest while he ran his fingers through your hair. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what, Mingyu?” you groaned, pushing him with weakened arms while you tried your best not to sob. “Don’t do what? I don’t even know what we’re doing.”

His grip tightened around you, his voice a soothing whisper. “We’re just living in the moment, taking what we can get. Isn't that enough?”

You shook your head, tears finally spilling over. “No, it’s not. I can’t just pretend this doesn’t mean anything.”

Mingyu sighed, his own expression conflicted. “Babe—”

“Stop calling me that, please!“ you pleaded, crouching down on the floor as you felt your knees give out. You buried your face in your hands, hiding behind your hair as you sobbed. “I knew this was a bad idea. I fucking knew it!“

The room fell silent, the only sound being your sniffling. Your mind was a mess, and your heart throbbed painfully. After some time, you felt Mingyu’s hand on your back, the other on your knee.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu whispered, his voice barely audible as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m so sorry.”

You lifted your head, meeting his apologetic gaze. “You don’t love me at all, do you?”

“Why would you even say that?”

“Because you wouldn’t be apologizing if you did.”

He uttered your name, the anguish on his face making your heart ache even more. You wished you could read his mind, wished he would open up and let you in on his deepest thoughts about your relationship.

“I love you, y/n... I loved you so much.”

“Then why did we break up?”

“Because it’s what you wanted.”

“You never fought me about it!” you cried, standing up and pacing away from him. You wiped the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You just walked out the door, Mingyu! You left without so much as a fight. It was like you were waiting for it to happen!”

“That’s not true!” he protested, standing up as well, his voice rising in desperation.

“Then why didn’t you say so?“

“Because you wanted it! I was just giving you what you want.” He slumped back on the couch. “You didn’t want me anymore. I knew it, I saw it, I felt it.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked incredulously. “You were too busy, Gyu. You had no time for us!“

“I was a newbie at work. Of course, I was busy,“ he retorted, still in a low voice but you could hear the frustration in his voice. “I was swamped with work, but I made sure to come home to you. I made time for you. I tried my best not to neglect you.“

“You tried, huh? Well, if you really did, I would have noticed it but I didn’t! You were always tired. We could go on not speaking a word to each other for hours. And then out of nowhere, you’ll be in the mood to have sex,“ you scoffed, laughing derisively. “What makes you think you can ignore me all day and I would still open my legs for you when you ask for it?“

Mingyu sighed, shutting his eyes in frustration. “Oh my god, y/n. You stopped having sex with me, did you forget? Even on days when we’re getting along, you never let me touch you. You always had excuses and I respected them. Some of them are ridiculous by the way, but I respected them all the same!”

He was right, but you weren’t ready to give up yet. “Then why did you change so much? You even stopped trying to fix things whenever we fought. You just go to bed and sleep like nothing was wrong!”

“That’s because you kept picking a fight over the smallest things! I can’t keep having all these stupid arguments with you,” Mingyu groaned, gesturing wildly.

“Exactly!” you hollered, exasperated. “That’s exactly the problem. It didn’t matter how small it was before. We always, always made up before the day ended.”

“You mean me?” Mingyu smirked mockingly. “We? There was no ‘we’ when it came to fighting. You never tried to make up, y/n. It was always me. No matter whose fault it was, I was always the first to apologize because you could never lower your goddamned pride!”

“Are you saying—”

“Stop it. Please, just fucking stop!” he snarled, finally losing his patience. His aggression startled you, making you take a few steps back. Mingyu was scowling, his jaw clenched, eyes filled with pain and indignation. He looked away, muttering curses as he ran his hands through his already wild hair.

He let out a big sigh before saying, “You can’t tell me that I didn’t fight because I did! I was there; I never left. Even with the pressure of securing a regular position at work, I tried to be a good partner to you. Even during your unreasonable fits, I stayed. Even when it felt like there was no hope, I fucking stayed! Your decision to break up was the last straw, y/n! It was the last straw! I was…” Mingyu’s voice cracked as he struggled to hold back tears. He tightened his lips and placed his hands on his waist, sighing in frustration as he backed away, trying to calm down. When he glanced back at you, the pained look on his face was still there.

“I was tired, Y/N. I was fucking tired. You had no idea,” he confessed more gently, finally allowing himself to cry. “You had no idea.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. With tired legs, you sank onto the couch opposite the bed, quietly immersing yourself in your thoughts. You gazed out the window to avoid seeing Mingyu, but his faint sobs and deep breaths kept him in your mind.

Before coming to the chateau, you had asked yourself, "What could go wrong?" So far, nothing major has gone wrong, but this trip has unleashed the deep-seated frustrations you and Mingyu had about your relationship. Four years of unresolved issues had surfaced because neither of you was brave enough to address them. You had both been worried about offending each other, of hurting one of you unintentionally or burdening one another with personal problems. Now, you realize that you hadn’t grown apart because your love had wavered. The things you chose to ignore out of consideration, the tiny mistakes you excused—all these issues had grown into an insurmountable wall that caused you to lose touch.

It wasn’t your fault, nor was it his, and you knew that. You had never blamed anyone for the breakup. But it felt so damning to discover that things could have gone differently—that breaking up wasn’t necessary.

You glanced at Mingyu, still sitting with his face in his hands. Standing up, you wiped your cheeks and took a deep breath before walking towards him. You reached for his shoulder, squeezing it firmly to let him know you were there. You were the one who held the knife that stabbed a hole through both of your hearts. You were also the one who pulled it out when you instigated this confrontation. It was only right for you to be the one to stop yourselves from bleeding out.

“I love you,” you murmured, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear.

Mingyu wiped his face with his hand before looking up at you. “What?”

“I love you, Mingyu,” you repeated, starting to sob again. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—I… I’m so sorry.”

With a gentle tug, Mingyu pulled you into his arms, locking you in a tight hug. You sobbed uncontrollably, gripping his shirt for dear life. He comforted you with soft shushing sounds, rubbing his hand on your back, and planting a few kisses on the side of your head.

“I love you too, baby. I love you so much,” he whispered, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. “God, I love you so much.”

Still wrapped in his embrace, you heard footsteps thundering outside your door, followed by urgent, hurried knocks that made you jump.

“Guys! We gotta go!”

“Did something happen?” you called back, frantically wiping your face, hoping to hide the evidence of your tears. Mingyu, just as flustered, used his shirt to dry his own face. He even helped fix your messed-up hair with his big, panicky hands.

And then you pushed the door open, revealing a shaken Daniel who announced, “Clair’s water just broke.”

You stood outside the nursery, watching your niece behind the big glass window. There is a rush of emotions overwhelming you and it felt like your heart expanded with an intense, almost indescribable love. You gazed at the tiny, delicate features of the baby while Mingyu stood next to you, holding your hand and cooing at the sleeping child.

You can feel a sense of wonder and awe, marveling at the miracle of your niece’s arrival, Alyssa. Everyone thought she was Alfred the whole time. Turns out she was an Alyssa. Your sister said this baby is this year’s plot twist, a Christmas miracle. This was good to know because you had initially thought the plot twist that would shock your entire family was the fact that you and Mingyu were no longer dating.

“I don’t think I would ever have kids,” you told Mingyu on the drive back to the chateau.

He seemed surprised by your admission. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. I don’t see motherhood as something I would be doing in the future. I think the closest I can be to being one is as an aunt. I have enough nieces and nephews anyway.”

“Motherhood seemed like a huge responsibility too,” Mingyu affirmed, smiling.

“It does. I mean, I might change my mind in the future, but right now? No, not for me,” you added, glancing at Mingyu in the driver’s seat. “What about you?”

“Well, I love kids.”

You smiled fondly. “I can see that.”

“Yeah. And I would love to have one of my own in the future. Maybe more.”

Mingyu’s smile lingered, his eyes gleaming at the thought of having his own children. You found yourself drifting into a daydream, imagining a future where the two of you ended up together, married, and living in a home filled with love and happiness. You painted a picture of a beautiful family, mirroring some of your own family values, and traditions. You would spend holidays at the chateau, celebrate your wins as a family, treat each other with respect and consideration. He’d be a loving husband, and you a supportive wife.

Children? Yes, there were children in this picture. But when you thought about yourself, you still couldn’t find the desire to have kids. Maybe you’d change your mind someday; maybe you wouldn’t. The thought of motherhood felt so distant. As much as you adored your nieces and nephews, you couldn’t see yourself stepping into a maternal role. Then again, there is no guarantee that you’d end up marrying Mingyu in the first place. This is all just wishful thinking.

You were pulled out of your daydream by the sound of Mingyu’s phone ringing. Reaching into the compartment, you carefully handed it to him.

“Can you answer it for me?” he asked, keeping his hands on the steering wheel.

The caller ID read ‘Mina,’ accompanied by a photo of the woman you’d seen him meet at a cafe. Your mind raced with questions, but you tapped the answer button and held the phone to his ear.

“Mingyu! Merry Christmas! How are you?” Her voice was bright and melodic.

“I’m well, Mina. Merry Christmas to you too,” Mingyu replied, glancing at you briefly.

“I have some good news!” she exclaimed.

A flicker of hesitation crossed Mingyu’s face. “Uh… Now’s not a good time.”

“Oh, this won’t take long. I just had to share this with you!” she persisted, followed by the sound of shuffling papers. “Welcome to XYZ Corporation!”

The sound of party poppers and Mina’s cheerful laughter filled the car. Mingyu smiled, though he still seemed a bit uneasy.

“That’s amazing. Thank you, Mina,” he said.

“You did great. They’ll email you after the holidays to confirm your employment and discuss your relocation. Just stay tuned for that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great. I won’t take up too much of your time then. I’ll see you soon. Happy holidays!”

The car was quiet after that call; painfully quiet. Mingyu is not saying anything, and you’re stuck trying to process the new information you got from that phone call. Even after the car has stopped, neither of you made a move to get off.

“Babe,” Mingyu prompted, reaching for your hand that was sitting on your lap.

“What was that?” was the first thing you asked.

“It was Mina Choi. She works at XYZ.”

“No. Not her,” you insisted, shaking your head. “XYZ Corporation? That’s in Seoul, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“And you’re gonna be working there?”

Mingyu took a deep breath before responding. “Not yet. I got recruited last month so I applied and apparently, I got the job.”

“Oh,” you blurted, feeling lost so you just stared at your lap. “That’s great. XYZ is a big company. I’ve heard of them.”

He smiled contently, sighing. “Yeah, it is. I got a full contract too.”

“So you’re moving back to Korea?”

Mingyu’s silence spoke volumes. You let out a deep sigh, trying to muster a supportive smile, even though your heart felt heavy. “Congratulations, Gyu.”

“Baby—”

You pushed the car door open and walked briskly towards the chateau. You walked faster, almost running, eager to reach your bedroom as soon as possible and hide. But Mingyu was following closely behind, chasing you quietly. You passed by the halls, eyes blurring as your mind raced faster. You passed by your family members gathered at the great hall, their attentions immediately pointing at you the moment you walked in.

“Oh, you’re back! How’s Blair?” Sydney asked but you ignored her, going straight up the staircase without looking back, your heavy and urgent footsteps echoing through the entire hall.

Mingyu answered for you, his voice calm despite the tension. “Blair is doing great, Syd. They’ll be home in the morning.”

Your bedroom was quiet and cozy, and you could see the evidences of the warmth that engulfed this entire space just a few hours ago. Realizing that you’re about to lose it for the second time, your chest tightened with heartache while you ignored the stinging on your eyelids. Mingyu arrived sooner, shutting the door gently behind him.

You spun around to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Mingyu took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t want to ruin our weekend.”

“Ruin it? Mingyu, you’re leaving for Seoul! How is that not a big deal?” you said, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sorrow.

“Baby, let’s calm down for a second, alright,” he replied softly, reaching to hold your shoulders.

His gentle squeezes and the comforting look in his eyes steadied your heartbeat. You let him lock you in his embrace as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I didn’t hear from them for a while so I didn’t think I’d get the job,” he confessed as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. “I only found out today.”

“But we’ve only just got back together,” you moped, sobbing against his shirt.

“I know. It sucks for me too.”

You couldn’t even begin to describe how much you regret everything. Instead of breaking up, you should have just tried to fix things. You should have just talked about it. That way, you wouldn’t have lost those last few weeks with him. You would have made the most out of your time together. Now, it feels like you’re right back where you started, but worse.

Mingyu lifted your chin, the pain on his face evident upon seeing the tears streaming down your face. "I’m so sorry.”

Even if you wanted him to, Mingyu would never offer to stay. He would never pass up such a big career opportunity, and you wouldn’t have the heart to ask him to give it up. He had studied hard for years and worked tirelessly to deserve the opportunities that are coming his way. Not to mention this will be his chance to return home after being away for so long. You couldn’t take that from him; you wouldn’t be the one to hold him back.

“I’m genuinely happy for you, Mingyu. Really, I am. But this all just feels so… unfair.”

“I know,” he whispered, his own tears finally falling. “I know, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

As you stood there, your mind raced through all the moments you'd shared. The laughter, the intimate conversations, the quiet moments of simply being together. All of it seemed so cruelly short-lived now, overshadowed by the inevitable. Despite your newly rediscovered love, you knew you weren’t prepared to move across the world for someone you weren’t sure you’d end up marrying. The internal conflict weighed heavily on you, a mix of pride for his achievements and sadness for the distance that would soon separate you.

Your thoughts wandered to the future, a future you had briefly allowed yourself to imagine with him. A home filled with love and happiness, the possibility of children, growing old together. It all seemed like a beautiful dream that was slipping away. It’s probably for the best. The picture you tried to paint was blurry anyway, so maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Silence enveloped the room as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Mingyu spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, y/n.”

You looked up at him, your heart breaking all over again. “I love you too, Gyu.”

He took a deep breath, hesitating before gently cupping your face in his hands. “We’ll figure it out. Somehow, we will.”

“I know.”

As you watched Mingyu kiss your forehead, lingering for a moment as if trying to memorize the feel of you, your mind screamed at the unfairness of it all. You wondered how many more times you’d have to say goodbye to someone you loved, and how many more pieces your heart could break into before it was beyond repair.

On Tuesday morning, you drove out of the chateau after saying goodbye to your family. In the end, you never got to fulfill the deal you made with Mingyu which was to tell everyone the truth before you head back to the city. You felt that it would be unnecessary; you got back together after all.

The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, occasional glances, and small smiles. You slept most of the ride like you always did. Then you spent the next few days with Mingyu, doing everything and anything together. You went on dates to your favorite spots—the little café where you had your first date, the park where you spent lazy afternoons, and all the places you loved to go to that he wouldn’t be able to see for a long time. Each outing was a surge of nostalgia and making new memories.

He also moved out of his apartment early to spend his last week with you, so not only did you see him every day, but you were with him every second of the day. Two days before his departure, you headed up to the chateau so he could say goodbye to everyone properly. Then you held a small party with your closest friends to celebrate a milestone in Mingyu’s career and wish him good luck.

It was needless to say neither of you held yourselves back, especially when it came to your desires. You lost more than a month together, and it would stretch back far longer if one were to consider the time when your relationship was rocky. You had a lot of conversations with Mingyu, opening up to each other more than you’ve ever done in the last four years together. He told you about his aspirations, and you told him about your plans from here on out.

“I really wish we could have more time,” he told you while you lay in your bed, warm and cozy under the sheets. Your bodies were flushed against each other, and you could tell you still smelled like him.

“Me too,” you confessed, nuzzling on his chest like you’re not already glued to him. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”

Mingyu sighed heavily. “That’s okay. If it’s ours, it will find its way back to us.”

You chuckled, propping yourself so you could frown at him. “That’s just another way of saying: if it’s meant to be, it will be.”

“I know,” he grinned and then kissed the tip of your nose.

“You’re silly.”

You spent the past days laughing and making each other happy. Neither of you has shown any sadness or shed a tear for the inevitable, although that did not mean it wasn’t sad. It was painful, but it was a familiar kind of pain, one you had been bracing yourself for since the moment he received that phone call from Mina. Yet, no amount of preparation could fully shield you from the reality of that moment.

There was a raw, undeniable hurt in knowing that someone you loved so deeply was leaving. The countless memories you had built together played like a silent movie in your mind—each scene was a reminder of what you were about to lose. Your laughter, the quiet moments of comfort, the shared dreams, and even the setbacks that made you stronger—all of it now leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

“You know, this is the warmest bed I’ve ever known,” you confessed, laying back down.

“Like, literally or?”

You giggled, closing your eyes as you melted into his warmth. “You made it warm.”

“Well, you did give me a bed to lie on. I did my best to make it warm.”

You opened your eyes and scowled, confused. “Like, literally?”

“No,” he laughed, his chest vibrating. And the night stretched on with more of your laughter and conversations.

The morning of Mingyu’s departure arrived too quickly. You both sat in the living room, your head on his chest while he hugged you tightly. Neither of you was speaking, just quietly passing the time in each other’s arms. His suitcase was by the door, and every tick of the clock seemed louder than usual.

“Are you ready to go?” Mingyu asked gently, his eyes searching yours.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I said I’m not going.”

“I know. I was just trying to see if you changed your mind,” he chimed, his thumb rubbing your shoulder.

You buried your face in his chest and tightened your arms around his torso. “I don’t like it. It’s too sad.”

He hummed in understanding. “I get it. It’s hard for me too.” He stood up and hugged you tightly, his warmth enveloping you. “I’ll call you as soon as I land, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, feeling the tears welling up. “Okay.”

Mingyu kissed the top of your head, holding you for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“You too,” you replied, watching as he picked up his suitcase and walked out the door. The sound of the door closing felt like a heartbreaking note.

For a few minutes, you stood there in the deafening silence, your heart aching with the weight of the goodbye. The thought of not seeing him off began to gnaw at you, each moment passing making you feel worse. You knew that if you didn’t go, you would regret it forever.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed your phone and ran out the door, not bothering to lock it behind you.

“Taxi!” you yelled at the first taxi you saw on the street, your hand flapping wildly in the air as you beckoned for it. “Airport. And please be quick!”

The traffic was mercifully light, but every red light felt like an eternity. You tapped your fingers nervously on your knee, willing the lights to change faster.

“Late for a flight?” the taxi driver asked but you were too immersed in your thoughts to hear it clearly.

“Sorry?” you asked stupidly.

“No luggage,” he noted. “Chasing a lover, I see.”

You chuckled nervously, eyes darting from the driver to the red light flashing up ahead. “Does it happen a lot?”

“No, not really. It’s rarer than you would expect,” the man replied spiritedly. “And it’s beautiful each time you see one.”

He didn’t chat much, and it was like he could also feel the urgency of your situation because as soon as he could, he sped through the highways and assured you that everything would be alright. When you finally reached the airport, you hastily paid your fare and ran towards the terminal, your heart pounding in your chest.

You scanned the crowds frantically, hoping you weren’t too late. Then, you spotted him at the security checkpoint, just about to hand over his boarding pass.

"Kim Mingyu!" you shouted, your voice echoing in the bustling terminal.

He turned around, eyes wide with surprise. You pushed through the crowd, running up to him while waving your hand. Mingyu left the queue immediately, meeting you halfway. When you reached him, you were breathless, both from the run and the emotions. He didn’t waste any time and pulled you into a tight embrace.

When you parted, you laughed shyly, not looking him in the eyes out of embarrassment.

“Wow, I almost didn’t catch you,” you told him, looking at the queue of people boarding the gate.

Mingyu’s expression was soft and loving as he tucked a few strands of your hair to the back of your ear. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Yeah. I’m so glad I did,” you chuckled, moving closer to hug him again. You stared at his face, trying to memorize it before he leaves and your vision of him becomes limited to a phone’s screen only.

“I thought you don’t like it?” he asked, arms wrapped around your waist and enjoying the way you were staring at him with loving eyes.

“I don’t,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”

“Just tell me you’re gonna miss me and be done with it.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Mingyu.”

Mingyu laughed heartily, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “See. How hard was that?”

“Not hard at all because it’s true,” you shrugged.

He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I’m gonna miss you too, baby. A lot.”

“You better,” you said nonchalantly, masking the yearning in your heart. “I love you, okay?”

He nodded. “I love you.”

The announcement for his flight boarding echoed through the terminal, and Mingyu sighed, knowing it was time to go. He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and emotion into that one kiss. Then he pulled you into a tight embrace again, neither of you wanting to let go.

“Take care of yourself,” he murmured into your hair.

“You too,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help it. When Mingyu saw that, you recognized the slight flicker of hesitation on his face. “Go, before I change my mind and chain you to my bedpost.”

“See you soon, y/n.”

“See you soon, Mingyu.”

With one last kiss, he turned and walked towards the gate, pausing to look back at you one more time. You watched as he disappeared from sight, a mix of sadness and hope filling your heart. You took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the terminal fill your lungs. As you exhaled, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You can’t control the future, but you can choose how to face it.

Acceptance was not about letting go of the pain but about understanding that it was part of the journey. You allowed yourself to feel every emotion, knowing that it was okay to hurt, okay to miss him, and okay to hope for a future where your paths would cross again.

Days passed in the blink of an eye. You got busy working on the establishment of your interior design office. You haven’t even officially established your office yet but inquiries are already pouring in thanks to your work on Daphne’s boutique. Sure, you had help from your trust fund and your first investor was your father, but why would you shy away from the privilege you were born with when you can flourish with it?

“Ma'am, where do you want this couch to be?” asked the helpers as they hauled a long couch into the office space.

“Over there by that corner, please. And the rest of it will be placed there too,” you instructed just as you were fishing your phone from your bag.

You opened the message from Mingyu and saw that he had sent you a picture. It was of him and an abstract painting hanging on the wall of his Seoul apartment– the one you sent him a few days ago.

MG: Rate my interior design capability. you: 7/10. Nice spot but it’s upside down, Mr Kim. MG: LOL okay will fix it when i get back. i'm at work now. i miss you! xx

A smile crept up your lips as you typed a reply.

you: Miss you! Good luck!

Not everyone has to end up with the greatest love of their life. But you do wish you would end up with yours— that somehow, despite the massive population of the earth, Mingyu is your greatest love; your end game. Maybe he is, or perhaps he’s not. Who knows? Right now, you're both content living your days, doing what makes you happy. You no longer ache for him too much, although you miss him a lot every day. You were pretty convinced that you missed it only because you were used to it. Then again, who knows for sure?

As you set your phone down, you felt hopeful and optimistic. Your story with Mingyu wasn’t over; it was simply evolving. And in that evolution, you found strength, hope, and a future full of possibilities.

[fin]

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blood-orange-juice · 7 months

Text

Inspired by a discord discussion.

I keep seeing characters from snowy places portrayed as unbothered by cold or missing it, and every time I remember that it's completely counterintutive if you didn't grow up in freezing temperatures

So I thought I should write this post.

We are very bothered by cold. We are way more bothered by cold than southerners. Being bothered is what keeps you safe. Warmth is a resource.

There are few lucky people who simply never get cold (mostly guys of endomorph body type) but it's not a given and generally northerners start to complain and wear warm coats at the tiniest hint of cold.

Humans can only adjust up to a certain threshold.

For example, Irish and British winters allow you to ignore weather almost completely (you'll be miserable but you'll probably live), so there's a culture of stoicism, not heating your house above 16-18°C (60-65°F), wearing shorts and sandals (and a Very Big Scarf) when it's snowing and all that.

(I quickly got used to leaving the bathroom window open at 4°C when I was living there. who cares really)

So there's a common misconception that you can do the same with even colder weather.

However, once you are past that adjustment threshold (for most people it takes as little as -5..0°C/23..32°F lasting for more than a month per year) there can be no special built-in resistance to that type of cold (unless you are a yogi or a Taoist monk), instead you learn a bunch of behaviours that help you. You start to preserve warmth religiously.

You also start to differentiate between types of being cold and avoid some of them (some build up over time and it wears you down, so it's best to avoid them entirely). Anything that drops your core temperature (this is noticeable long before you start shivering, shivering is the equivalent of fire alarm) is a huge no. Fingers getting a bit numb from building a snow castle is nothing major though.

It can be hard to unlearn that even if you moved to a warmer place years ago.

Stoic northern characters who have moved to a warmer country are very likely to Complain About The Cold.

They'll start wearing coats at higher temperatures than southerners (because, well, the weather might get worse, or you might stay outside longer than you planned, or move less).

They'll get cold hands more often because their body panics at the tiniest signs of cold and diverts blood to the centre (my first impression of the Irish was how warm everyone was when we shook hands. I'm the same now).

Most will heat their houses to the point where it's possible to walk around in a t-shirt no matter how cold it is outside (those who don't will comment "thank gods that people don't do that in your country, I hated it back home").

They'll whine at +5°C (40°F).

Apart from heavier clothes they'll have a bunch of weird habits like Walking Really Fast when the weather is bad (it's for when you don't want to wear heavier clothes).

They might have a fondness for scarves and good winter shoes (warm shoes and a warm hat are even more important than a warm coat. the lack of hats in fantasy upsets me. scarves are less important but they are pretty).

When locals get surprised they'll reply with "yes, but this is *damp* cold, *dry* cold is different" (it's more complicated than that but this answer usually stops further questions, so we go with that).

It's not like they are actually less cold-resistant, they just take cold more seriously.

At the same time they can be weirdly unbothered by things that freak some of the southerners out because they know how their body deals with low temperatures and which things have no consequences.

(it's not something that you learn from books, it's practical knowledge of what you personally can get away with. for example, I often get completely numb thighs during winter walks, takes an hour to start feeling anything when I get home. but I know it's all right as long as my feet are warm and my core temperature is within normal range)

They also won't suffer consequences when it gets truly cold, while more nonchalant southerners won't notice when they get borderline hypothermic or just cold enough to get sick.

They'll probably consider -30°C (-22°F) exciting. It becomes enjoyable again, because the outside world is now a death zone and there's some macabre fun in resisting it. Oh, and your eyelashes get covered in frost and it looks dope. What's not to like.

Kids will make a point to eat ice cream outside in -30°C (no, they won't get sick from it). I can't explain it, it just works like that.

Generally people from colder countries are not bothered by cold if they can return to a warm place soon enough, it's the prolonged exposure to cold (even mild) they are worried about. Going out for a smoke without a coat is common.

If they are still in a cold country, it's also a bit different from what you expect.

There's a trope of drinking to keep warm. It doesn't work like that. You can drink alcohol to feel warm but not to keep warm and it's an important difference. When it's cold your body's proper response is to constrict blood vessels and to divert blood flow from extremeties to slow down the loss of warmth. Alcohol reverts that.

This means it's perfectly appropriate to drink eggnog or mulled wine at a fair (when you are supposed to get to warmth soon enough, so the illusion of not being cold is not harmful) or hard spirits when you get back from the cold (it will help you warm up faster), but not if you are staying in a cold place. During a hike through winter woods a thermos with sweetened tea and fatty food are your best friends.

Some won't know it and get drunk and frostbitten/hypothermic. People are stupid.

Food gets weird, fats start to seem even tastier than usual. People in Antarctic expeditions are known to crave sticks of butter. In certain weather sandwiches with frozen lard are delicious.

Anything can and will be made into tea.

Some tropes I personally disagree with.

Pain. Pain levels depend on the weather. Cold eases any kind of external pain (cuts or burns) but makes worse anything internal (broken bones, cramps, most headaches).

Hypothermia feels nothing like peacefully falling asleep. It's the most miserable state I've ever experienced, psychological trauma doesn't even come close.

Well, maybe there are people who do fall asleep but other people I've talked to seem to share my experience.

I'm not sure how exactly it works, I think it messes up your self-regulation, since most chemicals in your body require a certain temperature range to work properly. Basically you become Not Yourself. Your emotions go whack (usually it's either extreme self-pity or extreme anger). It feels awful. I hope you never get to experience it.

Most of us don't really miss cold.

Well, some perverts do, but there's a general consensus that cold is awful.

We do miss some things that only happen during cold days though. The stillness and the quiet or how pretty snow looks. How bright the stars are on a clear night. The colour of sunsets and twilight sky when it's freezing.

(in my opinion, the best experience happens around -5°C, it's already pretty but the world is not a death zone yet)

There's also an appreciation of contrast with things that are Not Snow.

Walking from the cold into a greenhouse with orchids.

Watching a blizzard rage outside your window while you sit in warmth with a cup of tea.

Jumping into a lake straight out of a sauna (then going back. do not do that if you have a heart condition).

Fireplaces. Holiday food. Mulled wine. Saffron in pastry.

There's also a lot of beauty in the world that is frozen. I keep stumbling upon the fact no one around me shares these experiences anymore and it saddens me.

The xylophone sound of first ice being broken by a passing boat.

Sea moving under the ice — when it's not too thick it rises and falls like some large animal breathing.

The whale-song-like sounds of ice cracking on large lakes.

There's a very special mood of waiting for first snow. The world is too cold and dark without it and then you wake up one night from the sudden quietness (snow muffles all sounds) and you know it's there even before you look out of the window,

There's the exhiliration of spring. The moment when the wind starts to have a scent — thawing snow smells a bit like watermelons but clearer. Winter smells like nothing at all.

The first tiny yellow flowers in mud. They are our hanami.

(I don't think anyone in Europe truly appreciates spring if they are not from Nordic or Baltic countries)

There's a certain attunement to the scent of ice too.

Like that barely perceptible tingle in the air in late September, long before you can see any ice.

I feel the scent of ice when there's wind from the right part of the Atlantic. No one ever notices but it's there. I love it.

It's nostalgic in a way.

But it's never missing the cold itself for me. For very few people it is, I think.

This is, of course, personal perspective and my experience is not universal. I'm a person from continental climate with harsh winters and hot summers and a city dweller with occasional visit to country houses and a tiny bit of mountaineering experience.

An indigenous person from a place with barely any summer or a character from a fantasy everwinter country will probably differ from me.

There are, after all, simply people who genuinely love cold. A lot of them. It is, however, not the default northerner's experience.

But hey, it's still more complex than it's usually written.

If you want to read something focused on winter descriptions, there's Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Høeg.

It's hauntingly beautiful prose and the main character is from Greenland.

‘It’s freezing, an extraordinary -18 °C, and it’s snowing, and in the language which is no longer mine, the snow is qanik – big, almost weightless crystals falling in stacks and covering the ground with a layer of pulverized white frost.’

And then there's Moominland Midwinter. I think it gets better when you read it as an adult and it's probably still the best thing I have ever read about winter solstice.

Anyway.

I think we need more good winter stories.

#'the centre of the universe is always warm' says one of our poets #and I still live by that #writing #snow

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pearlcigs · 9 months

Text

⋆ light me up

fem!reader x ellie williams

summary ⋆ ellie decides she wants to be festive this holiday. and what better way to do that than some christmas sex?

warnings ⋆ 1.43k ⋆ smut, nipple play, pet names (mama, baby, pouty princess, good girl), fingering, strap (r receiving), missionary, bondage, bondage with an item that should not be used for bondage, doggy/face down-ass up, minor praise

the brittle winter cold was somehow making its way through the cracks of the window. small goosebumps dotting your bare skin. the blankets around the bed were scrunched up in the corner, shoved aside when ellie decided that making out on the small, cramped couch wasn't really doing it for her. black and purple love marks starting to form on your soft skin from ellie's passionate kisses. her hands slid all over your body, carefully removing each piece of clothing from your sublime body. her lips left no part of you untouched, unkissed. savoring each and every kiss on your skin like her very own christmas present that you got just for her.

her fingertips dug into the fat of your hips, gripping onto you like her life depended on it. clutching you impossibly closer to her tacky body, sweat starting to bedew her body despite how cold the air of the night was. your head was thrown back against a pillow that probably hadn't been washed since last christmas, but that was a problem for you to worry about later. as ellie decorated your body with amiable kisses, she detached her hand from your hip for a moment to pinch your perky nipple in between her index and thumb. a smirk on her face as your back arches from her touch.

"yeah? you like that, mama?" ellie's voice sounds like a mixture of pride and some kind a praise. almost as if she was telling you how good you were doing by simply just enjoying the pleasure she was so graciously giving you. "mhm. more, ellie, please." you beg, addicted to her touch and craving more. the space between your legs feeling neglected by the beautiful auburn girl that seemed so close but so far away from giving you the pure bliss that you craved. "oh yeah? you want more, baby?" she smirks with a teasing tone but she decides to be nice. after all, it is christmas.

the hand that rested on your hip was now moved to your sopping entrance. her thumb firmly presses against your clit, making you jolt from the sudden pleasure of ellie's enticing fingers. "like this?" she smiles dumbly at you, knowing more than enough that this was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you were longing for. "oh, god, ellie. yes, please more." your words were starting to slur, your eyes starting to close and your hips starting to grind down on her hind, seeking out the addictive feeling. she chuckled softly, admiring the way you seemed so desperate for her to do to you as she pleased.

she decided not to tease too much, feeling festive and giving you a well-deserved break for the holidays. she wets her middle finger and ring finger with her saliva, bringing them down to your already drenched hole, fingers sliding into you with ease. you moan, though you'd just felt the way ellie's fingers filled you so prefect the night before, it felt like a lifetime since the to-die-for feeling. without a doubt, your back arched off the bed, the cotton sheets sticking to your clammy skin. the sight of you doing wonders for ellie, making her more aroused by the second.

her fingers thrust into your cunt sloppily, creating slick noises that sounded downright pornographic. and if you weren't so busy moaning and rolling your eyes back, maybe you would have cared. but the thought of someone hearing you didn't cross either of your minds, too immersed in each other to even care. "y'like fucking yourself on my fingers?" ellie teased, watching you squirm your hips to try and get as much of her fingers inside of you as you could. "fuck—" she mutters on her breath, admiring how pretty your body looks underneath the shoddy christmas lights hung on her headboard. per request of you, of course.

her thumb rubbed your clit slowly, chuckling as you whine. grabbing her wrist to try and make her go faster. "impatient much?" ellie taunted, but of course, giving into your every need and rubbing the sensitive bud to your liking. as much as ellie was teasing you about being impatient, she was becoming rather eager herself. she could never get enough of you. everything about you made her pussy throb. the way you writhed against the bedsheets, the way you moaned, the way your body looked. she wouldn't last much longer without feeling your pussy clench around her strap, she knew that for sure.

much to your dismay, she takes her fingers away, licking off any residue you left. as if on cue, you whine, now deprived of the pleasure and now replaced with the feeling of emptiness. "ellie." you whine with a frown, unsure of why she would be so mean to you. especially on christmas! "hold your horses, babe." she chuckles, leaning over to grab the strap that was hidden in the depths of the drawer in her nightstand. you were so needy, too needy to even keep your hands off her for more than a second. your lips find her neck, nipping at the flesh as she fumbled around in the drawer.

"y'that horny, huh?" she jokes, but the way she swallows nervously tells you she wants you just as badly. the time between when she leans back and you lose contact with her skin and she's suddenly rubbing your clit with the tip of her strap seems like a blur. a low moan leaves ellie's lips as she collects your slick. her boxers were now off and your hands clawed at the ragged sports bra she was wearing, silently begging for her to take it off. "hey, hey, keep your hands to yourself." she jokes, taking both of your wrists in her hand and pinning them above your head.

you whine at her seemingly cruel demand, wanting nothing more than to feel her soft boobs between your fingers or rub her achy clit. "that's not fair." you frown, but try your best to listen to her regardless. "sh, sh, sh, pouty princess. let me make it up to you." she offers a cheeky smile before guiding the plastic cock into your needy hole. you both let out a string of moans, basking in the feeling of being so intimate with each other. she starts thrusting slowly, letting you get used to the stretch even though you've done this hundreds of times before. she leans down, kissing your jaw and neck, like it was her prize.

her thrusts got harder and faster, unable to contain herself from ravaging you fully. your mind slipped off the request she made only a few minutes earlier, your hands finding her hair, fingers tangling through the half up half down hairdo she frequented. you pulled the strands, biting your lip to try not to scream and pleasure from how deep she was fucking you. "thought i told you to keep your hands to yourself, hm?" she mutters, giving you one chance to listen to her before she made you 'pay' for it. though, you were so busy relishing in how deep ellie's strap was that you didn't care to pay attention.

she tsked at your disobedience, looking around for an object that she couldn't seem to find. "fuck it." she mumbled under her breath to herself, pulling out of you and grabbing the christmas lights that were around her headboard, pulling them and bunching them up in her hands. "c'mon, mama, you know what to do. ass up f'r me." you obliged through your haziness, adjusting your position, excited yet terrified for what ellie was planning on doing. you rested your face on the pillow the back of your head was once resting on and suddenly you could feel your arms be yanked behind you and the warm string of lights could be felt around your wrists.

"gotta learn to listen." she mutters, now laughing quietly to herself at the position she's put you in. but her amusement doesn't last long, quickly returning to her rightful spot in your pussy. "look at you, bein' all festive." she smirks as she fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. she leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the back of your head for being such a good sport. "good girl. takin' my cock s'well and puttin' up with my stupid shit." she continues, talking over the sound of your moans. you try to say something back, something snarky ellie presumes, but the only thing that leaves your mouth are incoherent babbles. "mhm, totally agree. just shut up an' let me fuck you."

im a little late but it's the thought that counts, merry christmas !!

#🍄 ⋆ the last of us #🕰️ ⋆ birds and bees #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #ellie wiliams #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #the last of us smut #the last of us x reader #tlou smut #tlou x reader #tlou

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fen-luciel · 2 months

Text

Baby fever 2

Here part 1

Another standalone story.

(C/n)= child name

Warning: breastfeeding

You, Qimir and a hungry baby.

I was worried. It was a feeling I hated experiencing, especially in my current physical condition, but I couldn't help it. I stood at the entrance of the cave with my arms crossed under my chest, using a crate as a chair, and wearing one of Qimir's ponchos to shield myself from the biting cold.

The evening hours were terrible because of the wind, and even worse when it poured like this. The sea was so rough that the largest waves nearly touched our ship near the rocks, yet in front of me, on the small stretch of beach that remained, Qimir seemed indifferent to everything.

He had long since removed his rain-soaked shirt, the wind tousling his hair that had escaped from the small ponytail he could manage. A continuous cloud rose from his lightsaber, where the water evaporated on contact with the heat. He continued to train tirelessly, he was probably sweating, although it was impossible to tell with the rain. The sky was dark with clouds, and the early evening hours came quickly during winter. I could barely see his silhouette illuminated in red by his lightsaber. I wanted to call out to him, but there was so much wind, and between that and the crashing waves, it was impossible to make myself heard. I hated seeing him like this, but as much as he denied it, he was angry.

I thought about getting up and trying to signal him when some gurgling interrupted my train of thought.

Turning, I noticed (c/n) waving their little fists in the air from his cradle, the blanket rising as he kicked erratically. I quickly stood up to reach him, not noticing that Qimir had stopped to watch me go back inside. Fortunately, the cave had been equipped with numerous heat lanterns to make the place more comfortable, at least around the cradle.

"My sweet baby, I'm here... mama's here" I cooed and gently picked him up, resting him on my chest. I wrapped the blanket around us to cover him as best as I could and then began to gently rock back and forth.

Everything about parenthood was still new to me. I struggled to understand what they wanted unless it was an obvious situation, but the diaper seemed dry, and his cry was fairly calm, so I was sure he was fine. The last thing we needed was for him to catch a cold, or worse, while we were in such a precarious situation.

I sat on the bed to take off the poncho and, as I laid him back on my chest, realization hit me when I saw him sucking on my shirt. "Of course" I whispered to myself in an irritated tone. Obviously, he was hungry, and I was just too stupid to realize it.

"You should stop being so hard on yourself, we're both stressed out" Qimir's sudden voice made me jump. (c/n) in my arms loudly protested at my movement, and I held back another curse at myself as I tried to distract him with soft, wet kisses on his cheeks.

Thankfully, at least this I knew he loved, and soon enough, they started gurgling happily. I heard Qimir chuckle as he approached us.

He stripped off his soaked clothes and left them near the heat sources, grabbed a towel, and began drying himself quickly. I stole a quick glance at his naked backside, but I held back from commenting, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of doing so in front of our child, even though it was obvious he wouldn't remember.

He slipped on a pair of soft night pants and, with the towel still on his head, took (c/n) into his arms, cooing at him, while I began to remove my shirt and bra.

"My sweet baby is hungry, aren't he?" he cooed, holding them up securely under his arms. "I bet you just want some of mama's breast, I understand, I'm obsessed with it too—"

"Qimir!" I interrupted him with a slight blush on my cheeks. "Stop saying those things." I moved to the head of the bed to lean my back against the wall, where the cushions gave me some relief. Qimir gently handed (c/n) back to me, and I nestled him in my arms close to my chest.

It was adorable to see him open his mouth like a little fish searching for the nipple. It always made me chuckle, and if he wasn't so hungry, I could have watched him for hours.

I moved the nipple, already leaking milk, close to his mouth. He sniffed the air quickly before latching onto the flesh like lightning. The sensation of breastfeeding was something I still had to get used to—the feeling of fullness in the breast that was being emptied and the wet grip of a newborn's mouth on sensitive skin was... peculiar. Certainly something quite different from the grip Qimir gave me anyway.

"Look at him, he takes after his father" he joked, watching us before leaning down on the bed. He gently pushed me forward as he slid between me and the cushions, his muscular arms tight beneath mine, lifting part of the burden of the weight from my arms.

"I don't think so, he doesn't bite" I whispered, feeling almost compelled not to raise my voice too much and break that moment of intimacy.

"As if you don't like it" he whispered in my ear with a husky tone, then moved to kiss the skin behind my ear languidly. The shivers made me tremble slightly as I half-closed my eyes.

"That's right, relax" the kisses moved to my neck.

"You're the one who should relax" the implication of that statement hanging over us.

"I'm fine. We'll be fine. We'll lay low here for a while, and when (c/n) is well-fed and safe for hyperspace travel, we'll go to a secure home." Another kiss on my neck.

"You just need to worry about our baby, I'll take care of the rest." He leaned in more to kiss me on the lips, his eyes half-closed before we separated. I sighed, more relaxed, as I lowered my gaze once more.

(C/n) was eating peacefully, eyes closed, a trickle of milk falling from the side of his mouth, and his little hand opening and closing against my chest. Qimir extended a hand over him, letting him grasp his pinky in a tight grip. We both couldn't help but smile.

At least for the moment, safe from the storm outside, I could pretend that we were all right.

#the acolyte #qimir #star wars #qimir x reader #qimir x oc #manny jacinto #baby fever #breastfeeding

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silencesscreams · 9 months

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santa doesn’t know you like i do

james potter x f!reader (smut)

summary: you and james had been distant for a month, until you saw him at a christmas reunion. you thought he didn’t see you the way you wanted him, until he couldn’t help but bringing you over to his apartment next door.

a/n: did this in a rush but i needed to do a christmas james fic, also stream fruitcake (i love you sabrina carpenter) happy holidays!! didn’t really check for mistakes so just tell me if you see any (please), also keep in mind english isn’t my first language so sorry about any errors.

warnings: smut with plot, muggle + modern day au, afab!reader, she/her pronouns referring to reader, reader knows how to bake, james is taller than reader, wolfstar, friends to lovers, petnames (love, darling, sugar), casual drinking, use of y/n once, kissing, hickeys, swearing, praise, fingering, oral (f receiving), slight dom!james and sub!reader dynamic, james loves biting, orgasm denial?, a bit of a size kink, unprotected (sorry) penetration

you loved the winter time, especially christmas.

gifts, snow, hot chocolate, good food, what could be top that?

you and your friends had planned a christmas reunion, you were so excited you felt stupid. sirius and remus were hosting the party in their apartment, which was right next to james’, so you assumed he’d be there.

even though you and james were very close friends, since you had developed a crush on him you both had been a bit distant, especially because he was in a situationship with a girl you barely knew and you didn’t want to get in the way. even if you were attracted to him, you wanted what has best for him, though you couldn’t handle being around him while he was obsessing over her.

you told your roommate, lily, about it and she said that you were acting silly, distancing yourself from him like that and that you should try and talk to him normally at the party. you guessed she was right, you just wondered if he was going to bring the girl there, you would absolutely hate it.

you and lily went separately, which you realized was a bad idea once you stood in an elevator with a very heavy glass tray filled with chocolate mousse not being able to press the floor buttons without dropping the dessert on the floor or getting your dress dirty. and so you heard him.

shit.

“remus, are you sure she’s not coming?” you heard james say from far away. “no, i just don’t want to-” he saw you. “listen, i’m getting on the elevator, see you soon” he stepped in, cheeks flushed looking at you. you knew he was talking about you in that phone call.

“hi, it been a while” he says, trying to look away from you.

“james, could you press the button please?” you request, signaling to the buttons on the elevator with your head.

“oh, yeah, of course. going to the party?” he asked, already knowing the answer. you nod a yes, hating how awkward the situation felt. the elevator doors close and you feel obliged to say something

“how’s anna?” you question, remembering the girl he had been with for the past month.

“alright, i think” he looks at you. “it didn’t work out between us, you know? we broke up one or two weeks ago”

“sorry to hear that” you weren’t sorry at all.

“it’s whatever, i’m not even sure if i really liked her, just felt like i was trying to get over someone” he stated, the doors open and he held up his arm, holding the door so you could get out before him.

“that sucks. thank you” you step out, staring at him as he got out. he looked pretty like this, his hair looked messy-cute, just the way you liked it. he was wearing the black pants you bought him once and a sweater. he was probably freezing outside. sure, you weren’t wearing the best clothes to keep you warm, specially with the length of the dress, but you took an uber, he walked everywhere.

“hey, could you help me out with something?” he asked, opening the door to his apartment.

“sure” you follow him, closing the door behind you with a bump of your left shoulder, gently placing the tray you were holding on his entrance table. he looks at you, blank look on his face, he looked like his mind was fully empty. “so, what is it you want help with?"

“right, hm, could you help me pick out a sweater?” before you distanced yourself from him, he would always call you randomly and ask you to pick out his clothes. you loved it, it felt like playing with dolls again. you nodded a yes and he went to his room, you looked around his living room. it looked the exact same as it did a month ago, except it had a small christmas tree in the corner between the tv and the framed mirror. you got on your knees to look at the ornaments. they all had pictures of him and his friends. once you saw a picture of you and him in one, you felt like crying, it was the cutest thing. you were smiling and his face was glued to the side of yours, pretending he was biting your cheek. you quickly took a photo and put your phone back in your cardigan's pocket.

“you like the tree?” he smiled, you turned your head and got up, straightening your dress. he had given you quite the fright.

“it’s cute” you smile back, he was shirtless, holding two options in his hands.

“did you see that photo of us from thanksgiving?”

“yeah, i did” you look away. he holds up two sweaters, a cream colored one with little blue patterns and an awfully ugly one that had christmas lights. you were sure he had worn the ugly one to last years holiday party, it was ugly sweater themed.

“i would go with the one that doesn’t have lights” you were sure he was joking when he brought that one. “also, that has to be some sort of fire risk.” you joke as he put son the cream one.

“good choice, thank you, love” he referred to you like that, you just didn’t expect he would feel okay with doing it now.

“you’re welcome, james” you smile, looking at him, but not directly into his eyes. he goes to the door and picks up the mousse effortlessly.

“i’ll get this for you, don’t worry” he said before you could question him. you follow him and open the door.

once he steps out, you close the door behind him and he looks at you that way again.

“we’re doing okay, right? we’re not fighting or anything like that?” he asked, your brows furrow, feeling bad for not treating him like you usually did this past month.

“of course we’re okay, aren’t we? i’m okay” except you weren’t okay with loving him, you weren’t okay at all, but it was better to love him and him not corresponding than not having him in your life at all.

“good, ‘cause i wouldn’t know what to do without you, darling” he said, smiling.

“i wouldn’t know what to do without you either” you smile back and ring the doorbell to the apartment next to james’. it takes him a while but remus opens the door, looking at you and james in shock.

“hey, guys” he said in an awkward tone, the one that his voice turned into when he was nervous. “come in” he said, opening the door wider and mouthing something to james as he held the door for you.

“i’ll take your dessert to the kitchen” james says to you as you head over to lily, who was talking to mary.

“okay, just put it in the refrigerator, alright?” he nods and sirius follows him as he goes to the kitchen.

“why’d you lie to me?” he interrogates remus as he opens the door of the refrigerator.

“listen, i knew you wouldn’t come if i told you she’d be here. i didn’t want you to spend christmas all alone in your apartment, plus, you guys weren’t even in a fight, you’re just distant” he explains himself nervously moving his hands.

“he saw her?” sirius questions, coming into the kitchen and seeing his boyfriend nervous.

“went up the elevator with her.” james stated and looked at remus again “she could’ve heard what i was telling you on the phone, you know?” james said almost whispering, scared you’d hear that too.

“please, everyone knows that you’re in love with her. don’t torture rem’ over it” sirius jokes, giving the man next to him a kiss on the cheek.

“listen, chill out, drink a bit. it’ll be fine” remus says, looking at james with empathetic eyes.

james was trying to not think about you. he had been trying for the past year. until he met anna a month ago, as time passed and he spent more time around anna, he realized that everything she did reminded him of you. it seemed like he had been falling for someone who was a bad copy of you and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he stayed with her. that month was by far the worst in his year, it was the one without you. you pulled away and he didn’t understand why, so when he saw you that night, he thought you hated him. he didn’t know what to do.

until you talked to him.

that was when he felt like everything good was happening to him, like somehow the universe had brought you back to him. and when he saw you taking a picture of his christmas tree his heart could’ve just melted. he knew you didn’t hate him and that was the biggest relief possible. so he stayed at the party.

“hi” you greeted him, sitting down next to him on the couch. everyone was doing their own thing. james would usually be around the boys joking and drinking, but that night he had spent most of his time sitting on the couch across from you, eyeing your every move. when mary, who had been talking to you for the past twenty minutes, saw him, she announced that she was going to get a drink and chat with peter for a bit. and so you were left making eye contact with james from across the room. after thirty seconds you got up and sat next to him.

“hey” he smiled, you took his drink from his hand and took a sip, not breaking eye contact once. the heat burned your throat in the best way possible, it was way stronger than what he usually had.

“changing it up for the holidays? you’re usually a beer guy, aren’t you?” you ask, putting his drink on the coffee table in front of you both.

“decided i needed something more for tonight, 'was feeling kind of tired, you know?” you nod in answer, your leg brushed against james’ and you immediately looked away from him, he casually put his right hand on your knee and led it up to where your dress ended in the middle of your thighs. you were so incredibly close it was driving you insane, what was he even doing?

“have you baked those cookies recently?" he looks at you, like he wasn’t doing nothing at all. was he drunk?

“i haven’t, but i can bake some for you another day, i know you like them. how much did you drink?” you ask, his tolerance was high, the party had been going for about an hour and a half, he didn’t drink much, did he?

“almost nothing. two cups of that you drank” his hand there was driving you crazy, you tried to hide it but your nervousness was pretty noticeable. “i really like the cookies, what do you put in them that’s different?” “hm, usually i put more salt and vanilla extract than what’s recommended by recipes but that’s it” you felt a lump in your throat, he was making you so nervous. he looked so good and you felt like screaming because he had never touched you like that before. sure, very long hugs and sometimes cuddles, but not hands on thighs and whatever it was he was doing to you.

“are you alright, love? you seem a bit pale” he questioned, smiling at you, that damned smile.

“i’m fine. i’m going to the bathroom to freshen up, but i’ll be back soon” you got up and walked quicker than usual to the guest bathroom, locking the door behind you as you walked in. you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to calm down. no, he wasn’t flirting with you, you were just being delusional, it was all fine. plus, you both were really good friends. it was completely normal for friends to touch each other like that, you were just letting your feelings for him get in the way of some friendly physical touch. that was probably it. you checked your makeup and flushed the empty toilet, to at least fake you were actually in the bathroom.

as you opened the door, you were faced with james potter, in all his glory, staring at the door of the bathroom you were just in.

“sorry, did i take long? i-” he interrupted you.

“listen, y/n, i have been trying to brush this off for about a year now but i can’t. i hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but im interested in you. as more than a friend and i really like you. i think you’re pretty, funny, i think you smell great and have an amazing taste on basically everything. i want to take you out on dates and treat you better than anyone ever has, this past month i have felt so bad without you around me and when i saw you again today i just felt better. well, that was until i realized about half an hour ago that i hadn’t bought you a christmas gift, but just text me your wishlist and i’ll get you whatever you want because i just want to make you happy. that’s all i want this christmas. also, is this bad timing to point out the mistletoe on the doorframe?”

you couldn’t believe it. you loved everything he had just said, you wanted him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. you loved him.

“kiss me” you said simply like your heart wasn’t pounding crazy quick in your chest.

“what?” “kiss me. isn’t it bad luck not to kiss under mistletoe?” so he did. his lips crashed with yours, his right hand holding you by the back of your neck and his left on your hip, closer to your ass than it normally would be in any kiss. he spent a while like that, lips glued to yours, taking the situation in. he pulled away, looked at you from top to bottom and then went back to the kiss. his tongue entered your mouth smoothly, but the kiss was feral and hungry. he craved your taste, he kissed you like a starved man.

soon enough, the left hand was grabbing your ass for dear life. he pulled away again, leaving you craving the feeling of his mouth on yours.

“you’re not feeling well, can i take you home?” he asked, looking at your lips. it took you a while to understand what he was implying.

“please” you whisper, he takes your hand and leads you to the living room, grabbing your cardigan from the chair it was on.

“wait here” he said to you, going over to sirius and telling him you were feeling a bit sick. sirius waved to you and mouthed a get well soon, it was sweet he believed james, specially since his mouth looked pink from your tinted lipgloss.

as soon as you stepped out of the apartment you looked at james with a big smile on your face.

“this is so weird, i suddenly feel better” you joke.

“really, huh? should take you to my apartment just to be safe” he picked you up, holding you with one arm.

“james!” you shouted, laughing.

“don’t worry, darling. ‘gonna take good care of you” he opened the door to his apartment, closing it with his foot. he took you to his room, throwing you on the bed and jumping to lay down on the spot next to you. he took his shoes off lazily and took off your heels for you.

“you’re so stupid, you know that?” you comment, rolling your eyes at his gesture. you loved it.

“yeah, i am the one who’s stupid” he smiled, crawling over you, his legs between yours and his face right over yours, giving you a sweet smile. he kissed you again, that same starved way, this time he wouldn’t have to stop though.

his hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts through your dress. your hands went over to his hair, tugging on it lightly. he chuckled into your mouth when you did it the first time, but he liked it more than anything. he pulled away from your mouth, now kissing from your cheeks to your neck, biting it lightly, leaving marks. you gasped at the feeling of his teeth nipping on your skin, the wet patch on your underwear becoming absolutely undeniable.

his kisses turned sloppy once they reached your chest, he pulled down your dress to get a good look, you weren’t wearing a bra. your breasts looked absolutely perfect, your nipples perked up because of the cold.

“you look so fucking gorgeous” he whispered “hate to mess you up like this” no he didn’t. he was loving every second of it.

his lips sucked on your right nipple, his hand grabbing your left boob. you moaned at the warm feeling of his mouth on you. his tongue flicking your nipple before moving onto the other.

“james” you gasp, shivering under him. he’s loving the way you react to him. your hand goes down to palm him through his jeans, he can’t help but groan.

“needy, aren’t we?” he teases. he’s been waiting for this moment for so long, at the same time he wants to take it slow, he wants to absolutely wreck you.

“please” you beg, he wants something else first.

“not yet, princess. be patient” he slips his hand under the waistband of your underwear, feeling how wet you were. “all for me?”

“all yours” you tried not to stutter, holding back a moan once he pinched your clit.

“good girl” he says, putting one finger in you, using his thumb to stimulate your sensitive bud. you bring the back of your hand over your mouth to hold in a moan but he stops you.

“nonono, none of that. i wanna hear you, love” he puts another finger in and you moan, lightly arching your back. he smiles and trusts his fingers into you whilst stimulating your bud.

“you’re being so good, sugar. so pretty like this” he praised you, your walls clench around him and you moan loudly at his words. he smirks, already knowing how much you love being praised like that. being told you’re a good girl. he pulls out his fingers and you whine at the empty feeling. he pulls the sweater he was wearing from off of him, discarding the piece of clothing you had picked for him earlier that night. he takes your lacy underwear off and opens your legs, holding apart with his wrists and getting a perfect view of you.

he kisses the inside of your thighs upwards in the direction of your pussy, he was kissing you everywhere except where you most wanted him. until suddenly he kitten licked your hole, his thumb moved in circular motions on your clit. you groaned at the feeling of his mouth on you. he sucked on your clit and put two fingers in again, flicking over your sensitive bud with his tongue.

“fuck!” you moaned once he nipped at your clit with his teeth, you were so close. your hands tug on his hair and you can feel his cocky smile against you. he kept on thrusting his fingers into you, sucking onto your bud harder. you moaned loudly at the feeling, not being able to hold it in.

“shit, james, i’m gonna cum” you say in between moans and groans. you were almost reaching your high but he pulled his fingers out, giving your cunt a peck before pulling away, making you whine.

“not yet” he took off his pants hurriedly, he was wearing white underwear and you could see his hard cock pressed against the fabric. he was bigger than what you thought was. james took himself out of his underwear, he was on his knees towering over you, not breaking eye contact as he stroked himself before penetrating you. it was probably the hottest thing you had ever seen. he gave you a quick kiss before lining himself up against your entrance, the tip against your aching hole.

“tell me if you want to stop, alright?” he asks, looking into your eyes as you nod. you close your eyes as he begins to put it in.

“no, look at me, love” he demands, you open your eyes and look at him over you. holy shit. once he’s fully in he groans, not moving an inch. “you’re so fucking tight, feels so good” he whispers, pulling out almost fully and then trusting back in. you moaned at the exciting new feeling.

it took him a few thrusts, but once he finally picked up his pace he didn’t hold back, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every thrust. he made you a moaning and shivering mess beneath him, scratching harshly his back. you were sure it would leave marks.

his head was in the crook of your neck, biting the soft skin beneath him. it felt better than anything, it didn’t take long for you to start feel your orgasm coming onto you. he thrusted deeply, hitting the perfect spot even harder.

you moaned loudly, your walls clenched around him, he groaned at the feeling.

“are you alright?” he teased you, voice sounding strained as his thrusts hit deep inside of you. he lifts your hips, thrusting harder and hitting everywhere you needed him to. you threw your head back, completely taken by the pleasure he was causing over you, your eyes fluttering shut.

“shit, james. ‘m gonna cum” you state, scratching his back roughly.

“do it, be a good girl and cum for me” he said, groaning as your walls tightened around him. your climax hits you hard and you're moaning and arching your back as he holds you against him. his thrusts don’t stop once you’ve finished.

“gonna cum in you, is that alright?” you nod in answer, not being able to form a coherent sentence because of how fucked out you were. the sound of his hips slapping against yours filling up the room along with your moans and his swearing. after a few thrusts you felt his cock twitch inside of you, his hot juices mixing with yours.

once he’s finished he collapses over you, not pulling out. he leaves a trail of kisses from your collarbone to your mouth, kissing you firmly once he gets to the end.

“i think i should take you out on a date sometime” he says, grinning. he was so stupid.

“you really should” you kiss him softly and you knew what it was. he was also in love.

#lila writes #james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter smut #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #silencesscreams

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xxmrs-waynexx · 9 months

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Young Again

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x wife!reader (batmom)

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, Bruce is slightly OOC but it's for the plot.

Ever since Bruce came back from his latest mission, you tried your best to help him relax. He was always on edge and very clearly tense. This man was not doing okay this time around and it was stressing you out too. No matter how hard you tried, all the noises, movement, and whatever else happening in the manor was just too much for him. You assumed that whatever had happened with Scarecrow must’ve had something to do with fear toxin.

So, you confided in Alfred. Who else would know your husband better than yourself? The two of you sat outside drinking tea and chatting.

“I just don’t know what else to do. He can’t stay in the cave all day planning and checking every news source for trouble, but he also isn’t able to help with the chaos of all the kids,” you explained.

Alfred thought for a moment before sighing, “Why don’t you two stay home tomorrow? I will go out with the young ones and be back by dinner time.” The older man gave you a kind and reassuring smile. “He will be back to himself before we know it. I have learned that sometimes the best way to make any progress is to take a break. Especially for master Bruce.”

And so you did. The next morning, you were sure to let Bruce sleep in. You didn’t mind being held for a bit longer than usual. By lunchtime, you two had finally pulled yourselves out of bed. It had been months since you’d last cooked. Usually, you helped Alfred but being on the PTA for your kids’ school was getting very busy as it neared winter break.

Cooking was something you used to do with Bruce in college. It used to be a fun bonding activity for you two in the communal kitchen in your dorm building. You’d avoided asking him if he wanted to since you knew he had a lifetime ban, courtesy of Alfred.

As you looked in the pantry, Bruce came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I just had the greatest idea on earth,” he mumbled in his deep, sleepy voice.

“Listen, if this is about your plan for Penguin, I already told you that it was good and that-”

“No,” he chuckled softly. “I think we should cook dinner for the family. They’ve probably had a long day and it’s the least we can do.”

His smile is what made you agree. You knew the reasoning was far beyond what he said. He wanted to relive the ‘good old days.’ And if Alfred wasn’t home to tell him no?

____

The kitchen was an absolute disaster. Dishes and ingredients were scattered all over the countertops. You did your best to help keep things in order, but you did have a little enjoyment for the chaos. Your combined laughter filled the kitchen and it was like you two were young and new to each other again.

“Okay, Bruce, now the flour. Not too much. Just use what’s left of the bag in there,” you said, back turned to his figure looking into the pantry.

“There’s just the unopened sack,” he said gruffly, pulling it out of the pantry and slamming it on the counter.

“...Alfred would buy the biggest bag known to man,” you let out a soft chuckle. However, upon turning around, you saw that perhaps slamming a bag of flour onto the counter was not quite the best idea. “Bruce!” Your eyes were wide with both amusement and shock.

Bruce stood in front of you, eyes squeezed shut, covered in flour. “I didn’t think-”

“No, you didn’t,” you laughed. You grabbed a wet cloth and began wiping off his face.

He wrapped his arms around you and you screamed, “NO! Bruce!”

He chased you around the kitchen with flour in his hands, ready to throw when close enough. “Why do you get to stay clean and I don’t?” He asked, grinning like a madman. This was done with the same amount of energy as your yearly snowball fights- though usually you were on his side.

Once you realized the kitchen was too small to stay away from him, you bolted to the family room. “Bruce! Stop!” your laughs clouded your shouts. “You’re crazy!”

“Yeah?” he stalked you through the living room, the flour in his hands getting everywhere.

“Alfred is going to kill us- No, you,” you laughed.

“Who cares? It was fun. I feel young again,” he told you finally reaching you. He had you cornered between a bust of who-knows-who-that-guy-was and the wall.

Dinner was going to be fun.

#dc imagine #dc #dc comics #dc fanfic #batman #batman fandom #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x wife!reader #batman x reader

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tadpolesonalgae · 3 months

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You — Part 20

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: I’ve been slumped over my computer like a living Fibonacci spiral—also, pretty sure I’ve proofread the first half of this but my memory isn’t that great so I’ll check in the morning (I should have been asleep about two and a half hours ago—I’m so sorry if there are errors)

word count: 7,869

-Part 19- -Part 21-

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It’s quiet.

There’s nothing in your mind, and it’s quiet.

No skittish thoughts, or fleeting worry. No frantic heartbeat to wake up to, nor an anxious tug of energy hurrying you along to get out of bed for fear of seeming lazy. It’s quiet.

The sheets still smell faintly of gardenia, clinging to the delicate fibres relentlessly. How? Maybe it’s just lodged itself in your nose.

There’s no sunlight this morning—it’s hard to tell the time. A slight outline presents itself on the edge of the mattress, beginning to slide down onto the floorboards. It’s watery and pale, hardly there. Is it warm? You can’t feel anything on your hands…

You can’t feel anything on your hands.

The curtains are open, and grey sky fills the window panes. Dark and deep. Probably not deep enough to signal a storm…it would be nice if it stormed though. It feels as though time has paused when it does. With rain so thick and heavy. The rain’s nice, sometimes. It waters things, and gives smells a new shade of depth. When it rains, you remember the shack. How the smell of damp was everywhere. In clothes, in hair, in sheets and furniture.

These sheets are dry, though. Dry and warm, and keeping you wrapped up and comfy. Heat having sunk into your body, feeling so rarely soft anymore.

A bell chimes in the far distance, metallic and sturdy. Counting to nine.

You’ve slept in. Wasted hours, already. Wasted, wasted, wasted, wasted away. Wasted away in bed. Throwing time out the window. Letting it slip between your fingers. Draining it out of sight, watching it gush far from your clutch while you sleep. Sleep all your time away.

Wouldn’t that be nice.

————

A bell chimes in the far distance, metallic and sturdy, clanging pain through your mind.

Counting to eleven.

There’s no point in getting up now. The good part of the day has gone. The early morning when it’s quiet and fresh, and sunlight weakly trickles across the horizon. Glittering upon the frost that’s begun to dust the morning cityscape. Heavy fog rolling off the Sidra, steaming in the early hours to smudge the nearby streets and houses in a dreamlike blur. Even if it bites, it’s a precious part of your morning, only occasionally daring to venture out into it. To walk the misty streets. It’s peaceful, and quiet. Not many folk are about at that time, most either beginning to wake up, or beginning to go to sleep. You have the streets mostly to yourself.

Though with winter setting in, it’s getting dark. Darker in the mornings. Dreary and dismal, with rain softly spraying in the air as it floats down like powder. Only wet, and cold. Like walking through a fine mist, one that shimmers with iridescence if the sun catches it at the right time. Spiriting you away to another world entirely. Your Quiet Moments.

The clock chimes a short succession of notes for quarter past.

You sink into bed.

Warm and welcoming.

————

A bell chimes in the distance, metallic and sturdy. Three O’clock.

It’s afternoon.

Your head pounds when you open your lids, eyes straining with pressure, and they fall back closed. The light is grey—heavy grey—and cloudy. Droplets were on the outer winder pane.

Evergreen branches holding full pinecones. Damp and gleaming. Spiderwebs with dew drops jeweling them. Bugs crawling along the cracks of bark. Twigs snapping beneath human feet, the smell. Filling your lungs with fresh air, alone in the woods. The twigs might not snap any longer. The leaves might not rustle when you walk over them. Losing the weight of presence.

The forest with the leaves of yellow, and red, and orange, sometimes capillaries of light green or brown shot through them. Silver bark that had eyes in it, branches growing out like nerves. The forest floor thick with earth, creatures scuttling about, water gathering in the small pools created by tree roots. Mushrooms growing from the underside of the forest floor, some a grey brown, others a chalky red with white drops speckling them. A few had been a murky green, with smaller fungi growing from the parent’s trunk.

You should have taken it in more, gathered the details from real life instead of giving them form through the illustrations. If you ever get to go back, you’ll remember more. Pluck leaves from the forest floor and dry them out in a candle lit room, pressing them between the empty pages of a leather-bound book. Fungi have simple structures, and fae eyesight would surely lend you a hand—maybe you could manage an illustration of your own. They’re just shapes, after all. Then you could splash some watery colour over them, adding liquid to powdered pigment. Start a journal of some sorts. Of all the things you get to see.

But you’d have to get out of bed to start, and it’s already three O’clock.

You won’t be able to get anything done, now. You should wait until tomorrow. Then you can get up in the misty morning. Find an empty book somewhere. Feyre must have one. Could you borrow one? Wouldn’t that be fun?

Fun.

Anticipation filters through your blood. Something to do. Something to work on. Something to make. Something real, to keep. To remember things with. To look at when you forget.

That would be nice.

————

A bell chimes, ringing through your head. Six O’clock.

Your mind is aching. Behind your eyes, between your brows. You’ve slept too long.

Gods, you feel sick.

You roll off your front, settling on your side, hugging the duvet closer.

No—no. You’re definitely going to be sick.

The duvet flies off you as bare feet slap across the tiles of the bathroom, making it to the latrine. You wait, knees pressing to the cool floor, arms shaking as you push your hair away. You don’t have to wait long, fortunately.

It’s over quick enough. Over and done with. Relief settles through you—it’s over. Your mouth tastes awful, though, and you go to the sink to clean yourself up. Rid yourself of the flavour that’s stuck to your throat and tongue. It takes a while for that strange notch to go away—the one that’s always present after regurgitating, like there’s a lump of something lodged there that you have to swallow around. And each time it refreshes the flavour of your stomach. You grimace.

At least it’s over, now.

You hastily clean up the red droplets on the white porcelain. That’s new.

You sigh heavily, exhaustion weighing on you. You and your now empty stomach. Whatever. You’re up now. Might as well stay up. No point in going back to bed.

Thankfully your body is still sustaining its warmth from sleep, but it’s beginning to cool with so little maintaining it. Time to wash and dress, then.

You stand at the wardrobe for what feels like an hour, trying to figure out what you’d like to wear. None of the colours are particularly appealing tonight. Maybe since it’s already evening you could get away with wearing something slightly cosier? Or why care at all—you’re going to cover it all up with a robe anyway. No one’s going to see what you’re wearing, you should go for comfort.

But you still want to look nice.

Your head hangs between your shoulders, eyes shutting briefly with exhaustion. At least you’re feeling relatively well-rested. There’s that.

The missed appointment crosses your mind. Madja. Azriel. You were supposed to see both of them today. Did you sleep through both? And Bas. You were supposed to see Bas soon. Is it too late to go now? It’s too dark. And cold. Miserable. He probably won’t want you inside, either, so you’ll be on the doorstep for most of it, or maybe the entrance hall.

It’s not happening.

Is it too late to see Azriel?

You don’t want to. Not so far into the evening. He’ll ask about the conversation with Nesta, and you’ll have to tell him, and you don’t want to. Your head falls again with fatigue. So much. So much to do. Should have done. You’re getting cold. At least the faelight is warm. Or looks warm. Yellow and orange on pale wallpaper. Your thoughts feel sluggish.

With a sigh, you pull out a gown—grey as the skies—and shuffle yourself into it, pulling the strings taut so the fabric remains together without being tight. And pull a robe over it. Warm but polite. Put together enough. It doesn’t look like you’ve been asleep all day, then woken to throw up—that’s…enough.

You go to your window, peeking out through the curtains, wondering if you’ll see any people in the street. At this time a few faelights might be lighting the street, two or three dimly shining a glow onto the cobbles, but for the most part the city is dark for the sake of the stars. It’s peaceful in a way, and makes you feel a little better about having wasted the light away. What good is the day in a city of Night, anyway? There’ll probably be an equal number of shops open at this time as there would at six in the morning. Maybe more, if you think about it. There’s some comfort. Maybe you can shift your schedule to fit the night. That way you won’t have the constant awareness of the day going by.

The sun is a pleasant accessory, but it shows the passage of time too obviously. It’s easy to tell when it’s early morning, when it’s midday, afternoon, evening. Maybe the night has the moon, and maybe the stars will eventually come to indicate time passing should you become well-acquainted enough with how they look, but you might be afforded some time to yourself, unaware of life draining away. Though that’s a very human outlook.

Your brows furrow.

Does the passage of time even bother immortals? Do they feel the need to hurry, and get things done? Having grown up without an end? What differences does it make, to live knowing you won’t die?

————

There’s no one downstairs, and it’s quiet.

Even straining your ears, you struggle to hear anyone—they must all be out.

Maybe they’re having a meal at some evening restaurant.

Maybe they’re having fun.

You tread over to the kitchen to make yourself some tea but find the room completely dark. The faelights are out, allowing only that faint grey light to filter through the— The curtains are closed. Huh. They must have left… Strange to draw the curtains though… On second thought, you don’t really feel like putting liquid in your stomach just yet. Maybe some plain bread would be nice. More digestible, too.

Taking your plated bread and butter with you, you head over to the living room, passing through the entrance hall with the stairs that lead up to the first floor, cutting through to the living room that also overlooks the front garden. You pause when you recognise Feyre’s shape on one of the sofas, a small, winged bundle propped up in her lap, cheek laying across her chest.

“Feyre?” You murmur quietly, incase he’s sleeping. Deep, blue-grey eye lift heavily away from her baby, her palm stroking the crown of his head. Brows furrow over half-lidded eyes, “couldn’t sleep?”

“No. I slept all through today, actually,” you reply, making to settle at the other end of the sofa, so you can balance your plate on the plush arm. “Do you know what happened with Madja? I don’t know what happened today—I guess I just really needed the extra sleep. I didn’t mean to sleep through it all.”

Feyre’s brows furrow, her eyes squinting as she looks over to you. “It’s six in the morning. What are you talking about?”

“It’s six in the evening,” you counter with equally furrowed brows. “I heard the bells go. At nine, eleven, three, and six.”

“No, it’s definitely six in the morning,” she replies wearily, “everyone’s asleep, and the lights are off.”

You blink, looking around. “It’s six in the morning?” She mumbles something that sounds like agreement. Pulls the blanket tighter around the both of them. Nuzzles at the top of Nyx’s head. “Did he wake up early?” You ask, trying to sound normal through the confusion that’s happening in your mind. Dreams can be so alarmingly powerful at times.

“Mhmm. He’s probably missing his papa,” Feyre mumbles against his head, smiling faintly, pulling back to peer down at their baby, stroking his back tenderly beneath the blanket, habitually avoiding his still-developing wings. “Isn’t that right? Missing papa? He’ll be back today. He hates being away from you.” She kisses the crown of his head once. Twice. Brushes her nose against him, inhaling softly, still smiling despite the obvious fatigue and strain lining her features. There are half-circles beneath her eyes. Her skin taking on a slightly bluish tint in the corners of her eye-bags, shadow making them more pronounced than usual.

“Rhys’ away?” You ask quietly, beginning to chew on your food.

“Up in Illyria for the night.” She sighs, readjusting her hold on Nyx. You hum, not wanting to press her on it. You chew on more of the bread quietly, waiting to see how your stomach manages it. You can’t stop thinking about the strain in her features.

“Is everything okay?” You whisper, glancing at her. “Are we…is it safe now?”

“Rhys says there’s always a revolt brewing up in Illyria,” she mumbles without opening her eyes. “Says they’d love to stick a knife in his back one day. It’s the same with the Hewn City. A lot of strained ties after the war. We’re still dealing with the aftermath of it all.”

“But no immediate looming threat?” You ask. Maybe the shadows are just making her fatigue more prominent that it actually is. Maybe you’re bothering her for no reason.

You shouldn’t be asking her all these heavy questions right now.

Her body stutters, and her lips have twisted down. A wet droplet shines on Nyx’s head.

“Feyre?” You whisper, shuffling closer. “Feyre, what’s wrong?” Her shoulders shudder under your arm, hand trying to soothe down her back. She sniffles, then tightens her hold on Nyx, hoping she won’t wake him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Feyre whispers against his hair. Another tear drips down her cheek, and you settle a little closer to her side. “I’ve got no idea. There’s so much to do, and so much to learn… Rhys says he can manage it… I don’t have to take on any more, but I can’t leave it all up to him.” Another tear falls, and her brows squeeze together over tightly shut eyes, the interior of her lower lip clasped between her teeth.

You don’t know what to say to comfort her, so settle for remaining beside her, arm wrapped over her shoulders. She’s trying to keep her eyes squeezed shut, her brows knitted together tight, nose still grazing Nyx’s sleeping head. You’re thankful he hasn’t woken up.

“Elain said…” you fumble, unsure. “Mentioned you might like to do something for your birthday.” Feyre sniffles, but you can pick out enough movement that looks like a nod. “Have you…is there anything in particular you’ve thought of?”

She shakes her head. “There might not be time.”

You glance at her, heart sinking slightly, hand rubbing over her shoulder. “There’ll be time,” you whisper, not sure where the conviction comes from. “What would you like to do though, if time wasn’t an issue?” Feyre doesn’t respond, her throat working silently. Your tongue flicks out over your lips, “what about visiting the coast? There are a few islands in Night Court territory, we could explore a few?”

Her body goes rigid, brows squeezing shut tighter if possible, shaking her head. Her fingers tremble, and Nyx’s face scrunches in his sleep. You worry he’s about to wake.

“Okay, a definite no to that one,” you murmur, forcing some lightness into your voice. “What about…just a quiet day at home? We could…stay in? And talk amongst ourselves?” Her shoulders begin to relax, but she shakes her head. “I don’t want…I like it…love it here, but…”

“Just not on your birthday?” She nods. You nod back. “Got it. Somewhere outside? Or away a bit?” She nods again, and your heart begins to steady. You’re getting somewhere with this.

“Okay…then how about…” Oh dear. This is what you get for keeping to yourself for so long. What would she like?

The silence is stretching…you need to hurry up…think of something to do…something she’ll like that isn’t boring and generic…“Painting?”

She seems to pause for a moment, and an instinct that isn’t something human urges you forward. “We could take turns? So you aren’t always the one in the chair working? I don’t know how good they’d be, but we could try? I’m sure we could manage some basic patterns. How hard could circles be?” A quiet, wet laugh escapes her lips, and you hold back an obvious sigh.

“Harder than you’d think,” she whispers, sniffing again, raising one hand to wipe her nose on her arm. “Well then how about we each take turns trying to paint things, and you can laugh at how disfigured our basic shapes are, hm? What about that?”

Feyre nods her head gently. “I’d like that,” she whispers, “as long as I can keep them afterwards.”

“I’m not sure you’ll have anything worth keeping,” you mutter, half-joking, “but if that’s what you want…”

“I do,” she replies firmly, making you glance down at her in slight surprise. But then you nod. “Okay… Let’s do that.”

In the back of your mind, you consider broaching the subject of borrowing—acquiring—a sketchbook, or journal of sorts, but she looks so tired. She looks about ready to fall asleep. That’s probably why she kept the lights off, so the both of them might be able to settle back down.

Her eyes have fallen shut, nose and mouth resting atop his head, keeping him close to her bare skin beneath. He looks like he’s sleeping peacefully. His wings kick in his sleep, and your lips twitch.

As quietly as you can you stand from the sofa, untangling yourself, making sure to be silent as you make back for your bedroom, pausing a few paces from the sofa to look back at them. Feyre seems so tired, so small, bundled up in the corner of the sofa with her baby.

She looks like your little sister again, in a way.

Your lips open, the first of three words sitting quietly on your tongue, but…

You don’t want to risk waking them. You don’t need to say it. It would probably come out too loud, anyway.

It would be strange to announce it out of nowhere.

You don’t need to say it.

————

You made the mistake of falling back asleep, and now your head hurts.

You don’t want to open your eyes, for fear of what the clock might tell you.

If you were given another chance to restart the day, and wasted it again, you might just throw yourself out the window.

Your brows furrow in disagreement, disliking the flippant thought. Your eyes open on their own, glancing to the clock, not giving yourself the opportunity to doubt anything. It’s about nine o’clock.

You can work with that. You can get up now, and the day is still ahead of you. It’s not wasted, and you haven’t missed anything.

Glancing to your side table, you spot a half eaten piece of bread on a plate. Your brows furrow tighter, fingers rubbing at your forehead—what was the dream part? Did you actually see Feyre? It’s all so foggy first thing in the morning.

The plate’s there, it has crumbs, and it has bread on it.

You repeat those facts in your head, slowly but surely driving away the haze that’s settled over your mind. Reorganising those events and sectioning dream off from reality.

A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you glance about your bedroom. You’re still dressed as you were, and you feel fine—no churning stomach, no tingling skin…you’re fine. Breathing is coming easy to you, and while you fail to completely feel the scratch of the sheets beneath your fingertips, there’s enough sense still left in the skin for you to pick up on its softness.

It’s nine o’clock.

You groan into your pillow, feeling restless. What can you do today? The weather’s still grey, soft sprays of rain floating down from the sky, misting the air, and you think you spot the faintest trace of condensation in the corners of the glass window panes. Maybe it won’t immediately cheer your spirits, but you can try going outside. Even if it means wandering aimlessly for an hour or so, it’s nice to sometimes look at things and recognise them. Maybe you’ll even end up wandering your way to Bas’ house, or Nesta’s—though you’re not sure you’re ready to see either of them again, with the grey of your heart.

Pulling a sigh into your lungs, you push up from the bed, dragging yourself to the door to head down the hallway to Azriel. He’ll’ve had his conversation with Mor by now. Will have more questions to ask you. Clarifications to make. It’s tiring.

You’re tired.

————

As usual, you knock on his door, entering when he calls, keeping the shawl wrapped closely around your shoulders, remembering how cold he likes it.

You quietly walk inside, socked-feet pitter-patting across the floorboards, gloved fingers pulling the shawl a little closer.

Hazel eyes flick over to you, sharp and observing. You’d like to hide from them, sometimes, for fear of what he’ll see. “Did you get a chance speak with her?” He inquires. Like I asked?

“It’s barely been a day.” You take the seat at his bedside, organising your skirts carefully so they won’t crumple or wrinkle while you’re sat. “But yes, we spoke.”

“I’m glad.” He’s watching you, a curve to his under eyes, a small upward tilt to his lips. “How was it?”

Your shoulders roll in an uncommitted shrug. “It happened.”

A beat passes, and he glances out the window, gazing at the grey sky. “Did you find it helpful?”

“Not particularly.”

Hazel eyes move over you, wrapping you in their sight. “Change won’t immediately occur. You should give it time.”

“You said I just needed to try speaking with her once.”

“It might be better—for you—if you tried again.” His hands are resting by his sides atop the sheets. Wings pressed to the pillows. “What did you speak about?”

“You said I just needed to try speaking with her once.”

“And did you? Have an honest conversation with her, about her experiences and your own?”

The pencil has been moved from where it was resting yesterday, now caught between the pages of the notebook. There’s a mug of tea on the tabletop too, completely cold and untouched, an empty plate by its side. A different book besides the cup, this one with crisp, pale edges.

“Did you?” He reminds, drawing you out of arbitrary thought.

There’s a full glass of water, too. It has a hexagonal base, with the six sides made into the shape of small arches, before expanding into a circular top to drink from. The light filters through it, pale and bright, distinctly liquid-like. His eyes are on you, lips set in a line, brows resting as they normally might on his expressionless face. His hair has a slight curl over his forehead.

You love this male. With his blank eyes and blandly set mouth. With his uncaring attitude toward you, and easy disregard for things out of his control. You have to love him, even if you can’t feel it right now. It’s just a numb patch.

Even if your heart isn’t beating the way it usually does, and you don’t feel as skittish as you usually do, it’s easy to pick out you feel differently for him that for anyone else.

Have you ever felt this way over someone else? No, you don’t think so. What is it, though? Is there a reason? He used to make you smile a lot more. He used to make you feel a bit like yourself again. Or perhaps, who you could have been if there hadn’t been so many downfalls in your childhood.

Oh.

You don’t want to be here right now. That’s what’s going on.

Where would you like to be? In your room? No. With Feyre, then? Maybe, but not particularly. With Elain? Nesta? No, and no. The walk was nice though, over to Nesta’s house. Maybe just walking somewhere, in the cold. Treading through frost, and streets that look as shut down as your mind. Noticing things is nice. Seeing plants you recognise, and other architecture features you’ve read about in real life. That’s nice. Maybe a walk is what you want. It feels right.

How long has it been since you’ve seen Bas? Two days? Can you see him today? Do you want to? It’s a nice question to ask yourself, at least. Do I want to? Do you want to see Bas today? Yes, that would be nice. But would he still be upset with you? He might still be upset with you. Do you still want to see Bas today? Yes, that would be nice. Why? You miss the smell of his home, a lot. The smell of rosemary, and freshly tilled earth, you think. Something like that, anyway. The smell of the outdoors, even if you don’t like it that much.

Do you not like the outdoors? You like the colours of the streets under frost. It gives everything a slightly glacial, pale purple look. And it all sparkles. Even in the cold. You can appreciate the niceness of it, now you’re distant from it.

You’re a bit like the frost, Azriel.

Hazel eyes blink. “I am?”

“Yes I did speak with her. It was a bit helpful, in a way, but I didn’t like how inorganic it was. I don’t like scheduling appointments for my vulnerability. I’d prefer for it to be more spontaneous, and my own choice.” The fabric of your skirts have managed to wrinkle themselves. You release the material from the tight curve of your fingers. “But I liked it being mutual.”

His wings rustle faintly against the pillows, cold air breezing through the room. A latch clicks faintly as the window shuts.

“It sounds like you enjoyed it a little. Why not try it again?”

Because you said once. You said once, and then I could speak with you.

Never mind.

You stand from the seat, pulling up your gloves. You turn from his bed. It would be nice to lie in bed. Beneath the covers, in the warmth. Wrapped in heat, with bare skin feeling the hitch of the fabric, the weight of the duvet. But it would be nice to see Bas. To walk down the quiet streets, where you’re free to observe at your own leisure, and take things in at a pace that suits you.

You wish conversations with him were simpler, but you find yourself often leaving them feeling lost.

He calls after you, but his voice sounds so far away you think you might have imagined it. Your mind playing games with your reality in order to cope. Whether or not he truly did call after you, you won’t verify for fear of it being false and turning around to nothing. So you keep going.

You wish you didn’t have to speak with him. Wish you didn’t have to see him. Wish you didn’t have to look at him and be reminded of how effortlessly he can pluck at your heartstrings, so often stringing out minor chords instead of the light and skipping arpeggios that used to make you beam. You wish you never told him how you felt. It would have all been so much better if you kept your mouth shut. If you’d just seen how obviously he was interested in her. It was a stupid decision to make—how could you have hoped for it to end in any other result?

It would be better to shut him out. You’re tired of always being the one with her heart in her hand while he keeps his far away from sight, somewhere you’ll never find.

Why does it always have to be you opening up, when he gives nothing in return?

————

“And how are you feeling this morning?” Madja asks with a smile on her round face.

You manage a half smile in return, fingers curling in the duvet to pull it further up, hugging your shawl closer. “Good, for the most part,” you answer honestly. Your throat rolls, fingers playing with the fabric of the duvet sheet, “and you?”

“Good,” she answers, taking her seat at your side. “Tell me, did you come up with anything you found suiting?”

The smile slips away, head dipping. “No, I…I don’t think I’ve been thinking much over the past day.”

“You don’t think you’ve been thinking much?” Madja laughs, “I’m afraid we don’t have a choice in whether we think or not. The mind will always be active, whether you’re awake or asleep, it simply depends on whether you recall the thoughts.” Your lips remain in an undisturbed line but your nostrils flare with amusement. “I actually had quite a strange sequence of dreams this morning,” you begin, checking her face for approval before continuing. “I dreamed that I spent the day in bed, and the time kept on passing beyond my control. When I woke up I thought it was six in the evening due to the bells, but it was morning.”

“The mind can convince you of strange things,” Madja agrees.

A beat passes, and you shift on the mattress. “Madja, I…I’ve been experiencing some things that I…” Your lips tug down in the corners. “…that I don’t think…”

The healer nods, understanding your hesitance to complete the sentence. “Can you tell me what they are?” The breath doesn’t come easily to your lungs, but it’s inhaled nonetheless. “This morning, when I woke, I experienced nausea—as I sometimes do…” Madja sits attentively, listening. “I went straight to the washroom, and I…” You make a slow tumbling-spinning gesture with your hands. Madja nods. “Then I…I cleaned myself up, but there was—…there was blood. On the seat, I mean, and I could taste it.”

Madja’s expression remains calm, showing no signs of repulsion nor alarm, so you swallow, forcing yourself to continue. “Do you…” You cut yourself off—it doesn’t matter whether or not she knows you went to Autumn—that part can be forgotten. “I had some unpleasant sweats maybe a fortnight or so ago, and…” You struggle to get the words up, heart pounding as shame and embarrassment try to strangle your throat shut. “…I saw blood then, too. When I visited the—…the washroom. It wasn’t my cycle,” you add on the end. You can’t look at her.

“Did you feel any pain leading up to either of those occasions?” She asks, keeping the rhythm of her words steady. You shake your head. “And have you noticed any blood while visiting the washroom since then?”

Heat scalds your skin. “I try not to look. But I don’t think so.” In your periphery she nods, but solemn quiet settles.

Then she reaches out and touches your hand. “Don’t be afraid,” she tells you, squeezing. “People are with you.”

You nod, unknowing how else to respond to the strange set of words. Madja smiles, but there’s something withheld from it. She sighs, shaking it off. “Now, let’s get started with that checkup, shall we?”

You don’t speak as much as you usually do while her magic seeks out those bunches of tissue, purging them from your body. You’re thankful for the peace, in a way. Needing some time to come back to life after the mood that had found you this morning. Madja’s as gentle as she always is, careful and tender in her touch as that tingly magic warms your skin, sending targeted bursts deeper. She sits back, laying your hands to rest, then seems to change her mind, touching them again.

“There’s no easy way to say what I’m about to tell you.” The gentle heat of her magic tingles at the surface of your skin, setting into your carpals, between your knuckles. “How much do you know about Magic Development Theory?”

“A little,” you answer, searching her face. “I know it isn’t well researched among High Fae, and lesser so amongst faeries…”

“But you know it touches on the development of magic in correlation with physical and mental progression?” You nod. Madja’s lips purse, squeezing your hand gently. “You and your sisters came into magic…in essence, unnaturally. Your bodies didn’t go through the preparations most born-fae experience naturally—that is, the gradual deepening of power. That phase is a crucial part of development, and can cause irreversible damage if something is caused to suppress it. Of course there are exceptions to this—I believe Morrigan was rather unfortunate in that respect as her magic awoke all at once, and the High Lord had a similar experience—but they are by no means normal circumstances. Even if the awakening of power was abrupt, their bodies were prepared for the sharp exhaustion it would cause, while it’s likely that you and your sisters were not afforded that preparation due to your circumstances.”

“So my body is…you think it’s damaged from two years ago?” You ask, strangely relieved there might be an explanation, even if it might be unpleasant. Just to know what’s going on with your body, to have a reason for night sweats and fevers and nausea and blood. Dizziness and delusion. “Perhaps not from your initial Making, but you’ve told me you’ve had trouble with your magic—that it took these years to manifest?”

You nod.

“And that it’s caused you pain in the past? Along with those two experiences you told me?”

Blood drains from your skin, but you nod again.

Madja strokes her thumb across your knuckles, pushing that comforting warmth into your skin. “Being unable to release your Cauldron-given magic likely means to give it relief, it was infused into your own body. Whatever the Cauldron gave you—that is likely the reason you experience the pain you do.”

“Because it’s inside of me?” The healer nods solemnly. “And it’s— You think it may be irreversible by this point?”

Madja’s throat rolls. “It is.”

You swallow thickly, turning your gaze from her, staring instead down at the speckled and flaky skin of your hands. The dry scaliness of your arms.

You turn back to her, looking feverishly. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore… Might that not be a sign it can heal?”

Madja pauses, remaining steady. However she forms her reply…it will matter to you, how she answers.

Her eyes slide shut, mouth falling to a calm line before she looks at you again.

She hands you the full glass from your bedside.

“Will you let me try and show you a precious silver lining?”

————

You can hear the rain from outside, pelting against the ink-black window panes.

Night has fallen.

You’ve decided you won’t yet attempt to digest your earlier appointment with Madja—that you’re magic will cause you pain until you die…to never be able to use it properly without that lacerating burn…to be well and truly useless after all…

Face it tomorrow.

And yet tears are rising again.

If you just hadn’t been so scared of it. If you hadn’t subconsciously locked it up so thoroughly. It’s stupid to think that—you didn’t even have any choice in it.

But if things had been different and you’d be bolder… If you could have been more like Feyre in the woods, or Nesta with her silver flames… If you weren’t so inherently afraid, on such a subconscious level.

You could have lived and thrived. Explored whatever the Cauldron gave you. And now it’s forever cut off from you.

You’ll never be able to save anyone with magic like this.

It’ll never have meant anything.

————

Three whisper-quiet knocks are landed to your bedroom door, and you pull your head up from the desk.

You don’t rise from your seat. You don’t want to move.

Nobody knows you’re awake. You’ll happily pretend you’re asleep.

Seconds tick by, and you wait with a spiking heartbeat to hear whether they’ll knock again. You don’t know why, but you feel like it’s Feyre. Your little sister stood outside that door, hoping to be let in. After you’ve tried to shut them out for so long. Well, apart from Elain.

Your lower lip wobbles, vision turning blurry. You’re in a rather regretful mood, apparently, un-helped by the rain outside. It would be nice if these moods didn’t plague your mind so frequently and intensely. If your mind would let you be happy.

Something hot and wet drips down your face, and you wipe your cheek, blinking away the remaining wetness.

You think back to this morning, when you nearly told her you loved her.

You could have died without her in the woods. You probably all would have. You could have easily died in the Cauldron too—they didn’t know what they were doing. Could have died during the war, if they’d aimed the Cauldron to the camps instead of the skies. Life isn’t guaranteed…

The seat is pushed back from your haste, striding across the room and opening the door outwards, those three words trembling in your mouth.

Marginally widened, dark hazel eyes peer down at you, having narrowly missed having a door flung into his face. You jolt with recognition, hurriedly drying your eyes. “You aren’t Feyre.”

He pauses, assessing your state before shaking his head. “I’m not.”

You sniff, quickly pulling yourself together. Your brows pinch as you take in the tall Illyrian. “You aren’t… Are you allowed to be up an about?”

“Technically, no.”

“Then…?” You think back to this morning, and want to shrivel into the floor. Then Madja passes through your head. You swallow, standing straighter. “I…wasn’t okay to speak this morning,” you admit, remembering how you’d left before even answering any questions. Azriel dips his head, “I thought not.”

Your stomach sinks. “Do you…are you wanting to speak now?”

He blinks once. Shifts on his feet. “You weren’t at dinner this evening.”

“Were you?” You ask in surprise.

He nods. “You should try to eat. To help you recover.” He pauses, then adds. “It helps a lot. To eat a full meal, sometimes.”

“I know. I just— I think I fell asleep again.”

“You’ve been sleeping well?”

You tilt your head from side to side. “I’ve been sleeping a lot? I couldn’t tell you whether it’s good though…” Azriel nods his head, and quiet begins to settle in the darkened hall. How late is it now?

“You seemed in a low mood this morning.” He says after a few beats of silence. You swallow. “Yes…I think the recent weather might be just…you know…”

He nods. “I know.” A few more beats pass. “You seem awake?”

“…I don’t want this conversation, right now,” you say, averting your gaze. You’re far too tired, far too drained…but if he insists you’re not sure you’ll be able to turn him away, wanting more than ever his quiet company.

In your periphery however, he shakes his head. “No, it’s not that.” He assures, then pauses.

“I said you could speak with me, if you tried reaching out to Nesta.” You incline your head by a fraction to look at him, not skilled enough to mask your doubt. “You told me you didn’t like how inorganic it was.”

You don’t know where he’s going with this, but you nod your head. You did say that. And it was true.

Azriel nods his head. “Will you come with me?”

————

The chill of midnight sets your teeth on edge, but the fleece keeps you warm as does the thick, woollen scarf you have wrapped around your neck and shoulders, and arguably the lower portion of your face.

He’d flown you out quite a way from the River House—to a part of Velaris you don’t recognise—and yet seemed to have chosen to not go directly to his destination, leaving time for walking. Not that you mind of course, but you turn it absently over in your mind.

The smell of rain is fresh on the cobbles, droplets of water dripping down the wrought iron of lanterns, weighing the lush green of long leaves until the droplets slip, relieving its end of the weight and catapulting back to its original height. Puddles accumulate in the narrow dips between the cracks in pavement, every colour made brighter, fresher by the gleam of rain. Vivifying colour and scent, life brimming at the surface, adding layers to smells. Walking past an alley, you see a small, speckled bird fluttering its feathers in one of those puddles, bathing itself in quick shivers, tiny eyes squeezing shut in pleasure before shuddering out a spray of dirtied water, now happy and clean.

While lamps aren’t uncommon, most parts of Velaris are without light during the course of the night. Letting starlight spill over the paving, basking in the moon’s lonely glow, fae eyesight having no need for the aid of candles as humans would. Here, the night sky is bright and beautiful, scattered full of tiny, glittering specs, like millions of miniature sequins cast to the heavens. Some stars glow like gemstones, like diamonds—big and bold, and demanding attention away from the surrounding scatter; others are peaceful and codependent, relying on the smaller sparkle of others to build into a complexity created by a myriad of stars.

Rainwater still trickles heavily, the splash of droplets echoing between buildings, small streams gathering as the water courses through the streets. You allow the droplets to fill your mind, their trickling splash, their content and syncopated rhythm keeping you listening, unable to predict the next pattern—how it’s an ever-changing, ever-evolving piece.

Up ahead you can spot warm light spilling out onto the cobbles. It’s noticeably quieter in this part, and you wonder if it’s more residential. If he’s flown you far enough away from the shopping areas.

“Up here,” he tells you, nodding to the warmly lit area.

There are no doors, just some stout, rectangular, navy pieces of fabric hung from the threshold of the ceiling’s entrance, hanging in a single row like bunting. Upon each dark blue piece seems to be the side-shop’s logo, embroidered in pale white thread, kept within a neat circle. It’s startlingly small, compared to others you’ve seen, looking more akin to a bar in its layout—high-stools pushed close to a raised table, the kitchen immediately behind…and smelling delicious.

Your stomach makes some interested noises.

He had mentioned the destination was food-related, but you’d imagined something bigger, more closed off…not a walk-in, first-come-first-served sort of place. You suppose the thick layers make sense now, with how there are no temperature wards on the place; no indoor seating, seeing as the establishment doesn’t seem to have any doors.

Teeth nip at the interior of your lip, glancing at what you can see of the interior—it looks pleasantly lit, two fae behind the raised table, with three others on the far end. There would be space for you to sit, without disturbing them… “I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish a meal…”

He nods. “They have containers you can take food away in.”

You glance back inside, chewing on your lip. Then you nod.

You hadn’t recognised anything on the menu, but Azriel seems to have visited before. A few times, by the friendly tone spoken between him and one of the cooks. A few minutes later a black, red, and gold, lacquerware bowl had been set in front of you, filled with more than a few things you haven’t so far had the chance to try. It seems to be comprised of a mouth-watering smelling broth, a selection of steamed veg, and half a well-boiled egg, it’s yolk still slightly runny, along with something string-looking. You’re presented with a pale white spoon, decorated with blue ink strokes that make up the petals of flowers and vines—to drink the broth with, you’d guess.

“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Azriel nods to the bowl. “The taste is even better.”

Hesitantly, you dip the different-looking spoon—almost more like a miniature ladle—into the broth, blowing on it gently, before raising the steaming liquid to your mouth, taking an experimental sip. It’s pleasantly spiced, the juices from the seasoned veg likely playing a part in the depth of flavour, and most importantly, it’s hot. “It’s good,” you murmur, smiling faintly as you finish the small ladle’s-worth, refilling it swiftly. It’s only once you’ve practically polished off the bowl, encountering a little difficulty with the utensils in your gloved fingers, that Azriel disturbs the peace that you hadn’t realised had settled.

“You looked like you enjoyed that.” You nod, lightly drying your lips with the paper napkins, the logo of the walk-in this time printed in a warm red, matching the accent of the bowls. “I loved the broth.” The light catches in Azriel’s eyes, and he nods. “The broth is good.”

You glance down at the lacquerware bowl, wondering if you might be able to get the last few drops of liquid from the circumference of the bottom if you tilt it and let it gather. You might have done so if you weren’t feeling pleasantly full for the first time in a while, no worries of nausea to be found in your body. Just warm satisfaction.

A good meal for a shitty day.

“It would be easy to have one of those picked up for a dinner,” Azriel mentions on the way back, after having paid. You’re walking at a dawdling pace, unrushed so you don’t get indigestion and spoil the heavenly state of your stomach. You hum, but your eyes feel heavy, despite having slept so much already.

He doesn’t push it, allowing the comfortable quiet to settle, with raindrops still dripping in between buildings, splashing into puddles. You’re happy to let it remain quiet, your mind feeling pleasantly empty. No skittish thoughts, or fleeting worry. No anxious tug of energy telling you to hurry along in case you’re wasting time.

There’s little in your mind, save for the warm spice of the broth, and it’s quiet.

It’s peaceful.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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#azriel x reader angst #azriel x you #azriel x yn #azriel x reader #azriel x reader multi part fic #azriel x reader series #can’t bring myself to hate you chapter 20 #can’t bring myself to hate you part 20 #cbmthy #cbmthy part 20

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heyiwrotesomethings · 1 year

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Flower Dance

Haley (Stardew) x She/Her Reader

A/N: I liked the idea, but I don’t think I executed it as well as I hoped I would because I got impatient. Still not too bad though I think. I wrote this in November of 2022. Sharing it now because why not. Word Count: 2,383

“Ew, no.”

Haley had regretted the words as soon as she had spit them out like an defensive cobra.

Hurt was written all over the farmer’s face as she recoiled from Haley like she had been burned.

Haley saw the year’s worth of progress she had made getting out of her shell and becoming friends with (Y/n) crumble before her very eyes. She tried to say something, anything, to peddle back from the harsh way she had answered, but (Y/n) recovered first. At least somewhat.

“…Alright then, sorry. A simple no would have sufficed.” She mumbled. “Excuse me.”

Haley reached for her but froze halfway before withdrawing. Her hands fell to her sides in tight fists.

Why did she say that? It was only (Y/n), the sweet farmer who had taken the time to scale Haley’s walls to find her soft and more vulnerable self within.

Daffodils in the spring, ice cream in the summer, sunflowers in fall, pink cake in winter… (Y/n) had been nothing but nice to her even from the beginning when Haley insulted her clothes and earthy scent. Back then the farmer had been able to brush her off, but Haley’s words definitely had a direct impact this time.

She didn’t mean to speak to her like that. She had just been startled that (Y/n) would even think to ask. The thought of dancing with her made Haley’s face burn and her heart thump in her ears. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fear that was causing those reactions, but clearly fear had won out when she opened her stupid mouth.

What should she do now?

“Haley,”

Haley turned to find that Alex was walking up to her. She tried to school her expression into something more neutral before he got too close to notice.

“The dance is starting soon. Are we partnering up again this year?”

Haley scanned the field for (Y/n) and bit the inside of her lip when she couldn’t see her. She was the Flower Queen, she was expected to be a part of the ceremonial first dance. As much as she wanted to go look for (Y/n) and apologize, that would have to wait. It would be better to talk to her when her heart stopped pounding anyway.

“Yeah,” Haley nodded, linking Alex’s elbow with hers, “let’s get in position.”

When they did find their places, Haley watched the usual pairs link up. Finally she saw (Y/n) conversing with Robin and Demetrius on the sidelines. Haley remembered last year, wondering why the new farmer hadn’t bothered to come to the dance. At first, she thought she had some kind of sense of superiority over the townsfolk, but it was a traditional town event after all, not a club in Zuzu City. It would probably have been uncomfortable after only being a part of the community for a couple weeks.

Now a year later, (Y/n) had felt comfortable enough to join in on the festivities and Haley had surely made her regret stepping away from her busy farm life with the utterance of those two stupid words.

Good job, idiot.

She continued to watch over Alex’s shoulder as Leah unexpectedly walked up. Leah? Leah usually danced with Elliot. What was she doing sidling up to (Y/n) like that? Haley looked around for the writer, but he was nowhere to be seen. Was he sick or something?

Haley looked back in time to see (Y/n) smile kindly at something Leah had said and felt something burning within her as Leah offered (Y/n) her hand and the farmer took it.

“What’s going on behind me that has you squeezing my shoulders like that?” Alex asked, craning his head back, “It kinda hurts.”

“Nothing.” Haley snapped.

She turned her head away from (Y/n) and Leah, trying to ignore them bonding over being the newest residents of the valley and how Leah’s first Flower Dance went. How Leah taught (Y/n) the steps, something that could have been Haley’s honor not even ten minutes ago.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Alex winced, “Come on Haley, I can feel your nails through my shirt.”

“Sorry.” Haley eased up a bit, but her steely gaze still lingered on the two women butchering the steps while snickering to each other.

Haley was furious. They were making a mockery of the long standing tradition! That was definitely what was pissing her off. Not the fact that she could have just as easily been in Leah’s shoes, helping (Y/n) find her footing and laughing with her instead—

“Too tight again Haley, damn!” Alex hissed, finally twirling Haley around so he could take a look at what was pissing her off so bad that she felt the need to leave him bruised.

“What am I supposed to be seeing here?”

“Just drop it.” Haley nearly growled.

“Ohhhh,” Alex winced upon spotting Leah and (Y/n) spinning together, “I get it. Well, they could just be dancing as friends like us you know. You’re not out of this yet.”

“What are you talking about?” She grumbled.

“(Y/n) and Leah. I figured farm girl would steal my spot this year. I was kinda hoping for it too,” Alex pulled at his collar, “this outfit is always so itchy.”

“Why would I dance with her? That makes no sense.” Haley shot defensively, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, but loud enough to make Emily peer over Shane’s shoulder to try and see what her sister was so grumpy about.

“Uhh, don’t you like her?” Alex asked with uncertainty, “I could have sworn—“

“I do not!” Haley fumed, heart pounding and face flushing once again, “Why would you think that?”

“The last time we were in your dark room. I mean, dude, like, a loooot of your pictures lately have been of (Y/n)…”

“I needed to have a gallery that showcased humans and nature for an online class!” Haley defended, though her cheeks blushed darker, “I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask that weirdo in the mountains if I could follow him around for a couple days. (Y/n) was the obvious choice.”

“I don’t get why you’re so defensive about it. It’s cool if you like her or whatever. You know I don’t care. Emily definitely wouldn’t. I think no one would mind as much as you seem to, or you’re at least in the minority on the subject.”

“I. Do. Not. Like. Her. Like. That.” Haley gritted out.

Alex sighed heavily. Why did Haley always have to be so stubborn? He had an idea, but it was going to be just a little mean…

“Oh whoa, they’re totally making out.”

“What?!”

Haley’s heart dropped as she yanked Alex around so she could look at (Y/n) and Leah again. They weren’t kissing, nor did it look like they had been. They were still clumsily dancing together as they talked.

Haley turned her eyes back on Alex, who dared to wear a smug little smirk on her face that Haley desperately wanted to slap off.

“You do like her, Hales. You haven’t liked anyone in forever! And as your best friend, it’s my job to help you shoot your shot. Come on, let’s dance over and see if we can’t get you to cut in.”

“No, Alex,” Haley pulled him back, a touch of fear in her voice “I, I can’t. Not after what I said. She must think I’m such a bitch.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She already asked me to dance, Alex,” Haley groaned angrily at herself, “and do you know what I said? I said, ‘ew, no’.”

“No.” Alex sucked in air through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, try coming back from that. She’ll never talk to me again.”

“You could tell her you’re sorry. Say you got so nervous you insulted her. That might help.”

“Oh sure.” Haley scoffed.

“It would be better than doing nothing!” Alex whined. “Haley, before (Y/n), I was basically the only person you ever talked to. You really stepped up this year and I’d hate to see you close yourself off again.”

(Y/n) and Leah seemed to have grown tired of dancing and went to join the sidelines once more and Haley looked to the grass at her feet. She wanted to say to hell with it. People come and go all the time, just look at her parents and their never ending trips. However, she couldn’t bring herself to slip away from (Y/n). She didn’t want (Y/n) to slip away from her either.

“What do I do, Alex? She’s not going to want to talk to me after this.”

“We’ll think of something,” Alex promised, giving Haley one last twirl, “We’ll think of something.”

***

“H-hello?” (Y/n) called out as she entered the Secret Woods.

She had received a letter in the mail that morning, urging her to arrive at her earliest convenience. She had half a mind to suspect it was the bear again, although the only thing she had been instructed to bring was herself, not syrup.

As she wandered further into the clearing, she faintly heard music playing and decided to follow it. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Haley flattening a table cloth over a large tree stump. The sting of yesterday was still very fresh in her mind. Surely Haley didn’t send her that letter… she took a step back, but her foot snapped a twig, causing Haley’s head to snap up.

Haley quickly finished what she was doing, hands moving clumsily from nervousness. She dried her sweaty palms on the back of her skirt and then took a deep breath as she approached (Y/n).

“Hey,” Haley said, her smile looking a bit too pained to be sincere. Much like the polite smile (Y/n) was trying to hold.

“Ah, sorry Haley. I didn’t know—“

“I want you here,” Haley spoke quickly, “I wrote the letter.”

“You did? Why?” (Y/n) asked, her body language defensive. After yesterday, she wasn’t too keen on listening to whatever Haley had to say. She didn’t think she knew Haley as well as she thought she did.

“Because I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I- I was totally out of line. I’m really, really sorry.”

“But why did you say that at all? Haley, that really hurt me.” (Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest.

“I know, I regretted it as soon as I said it. I was just scared I guess. I didn’t expect you to ask me to dance and I know that’s a dumb excuse, but I swear I didn’t mean it.”

“What were you scared for?” (Y/n) asked softly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Because I,” Haley took in a shaky breath, “I like you a lot.”

“You were scared to accept my invitation to dance because you like me?” (Y/n) tested the words on her tongue, finding them just as confusing as when Haley had said them.

“Yeah, well, when you repeat it back like that it sounds dumb,” Haley blushed, “but, ugh! You know me. I’m not easy to get along with. I also don’t like being vulnerable so this whole thing is killing me now, but, I also like you too much to not try to apologize so,” Haley tentatively held her hand out to the bewildered farmer, “will you please let me have this dance in an attempt to redeem myself?”

(Y/n) studied the offered hand for a moment, making Haley so nervous she stopped breathing, but then (Y/n) gave her a small smile and took Haley’s hand.

“Okay.”

Haley inhaled deeply, feeling a weight come off her shoulders. She hurriedly put her free hand around (Y/n)’s waist and took the lead. Her skin tingled when (Y/n)’s hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“Thank you.” Haley breathed a sigh of relief.

“You know, you really surprised me yesterday,” (Y/n) began, making Haley wince, “I know you can be a little grouchy, even mean sometimes,” Haley wished the ground would swallow her whole,

“but the more we got to know each other, the more I got to see who you are trying to protect, the person who are underneath the prickliness. Granted, the prickliness is just as much a part of you, but I think it’s cute when you’re a little snarky,” Haley bit the inside of her cheek. She felt like she should be insulted, but (Y/n) finding something about her cute was making her blush,

“I was hurt when you turned me down like that yesterday, but I was also worried that would be the end of our friendship.”

“Why would you worry about that? If the shoe had been on the other foot, I would have said good riddance.” Haley asked, mentally kicking herself for possibly giving (Y/n) the idea to back away now.

“Yeah, I kinda did feel that way at first,” (Y/n) admitted, “but when Leah helped me cool down, I at least wanted to know why you reacted the way you did. I’m glad you reached out to me before I did, because I honestly had no idea how to approach the subject.” (Y/n) said with a sheepish grin.

“What, are you afraid of me or something, Miss spends-all-winter-in-the-mines?” Haley Scoffed.

“Oh definitely.”

“Really?”

“You are scarier than you give yourself credit for.”

Haley tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. She lowered her head to rest against (Y/n)’s shoulder and giggled, making (Y/n) laugh as well.

They swayed through a couple more songs before Haley pulled back and asked (Y/n) if she was hungry before motioning back to the the covered tree stump. They ate and talked together while listening to the portable radio Haley had brought along. When there was a lull, Haley asked,

“Hey, it’s not exactly the Flower Dance, but there’s always a dance floor at the summer Luau… be my dance partner?”

(Y/n) perked up, giving Haley another smile that gave her butterflies, “I’d like that.”

“Awesome.”

Maybe by summer she’d work up the courage to ask (Y/n) if she wanted to be her girlfriend, but this was perfect for now. Alex was going to need to help her with a plan, but when (Y/n) reached across the stump the tuck a bit of Haley’s hair behind her ear, she was feeling a little better about her chances.

#stardew valley x reader #stardew valley oneshots #stardew valley haley x reader #sdv haley #sdv haley x reader

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personasintro · 1 year

Text

Mutual Help | #33

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.9k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

December rolls quickly, along with the first snow of the year coating buildings' roofs and the roads. As much as you were excited when you saw the first snowflakes dropping from the sky and melting right away, with your troublesome car it has become inconvenient. You pray every morning that your car's battery isn't dead or there won't be any other trouble waiting for you the second you sit into the car.

Snow has been one of the few things, your favorite things, you appreciate about winter. You don't like the cold that much, wearing too many layers of clothing that it becomes hard to move in, it never has appealed to you that much. Christmas, the family holiday that is approaching very closely, is a part of your favorite things in and about winter. Which reminds you you should buy presents sooner than two days before Christmas like you did last year.

You're planning to go back to your hometown, obviously spending a family holiday with none other than your own family. And even though you've in mind what to get to your parents, you've no idea what to get to Jungkook. You know him, knowing what he likes and does in his free time but fuck, it's so hard to buy him something. The man is successful enough to buy anything he likes, and he does enjoy expensive things. Things you probably can't afford with your bills and additional expenses for your car. The bar pays well, in three months or so, you'll be able to actually look around for a better car. And although you know if Jungkook heard your thoughts and struggles about his Christmas gift, he'd assure you not to buy him anything. But you can't exactly do that, can you?

Coincidentally, the mentioned man is right in front of you in his natural habitat and by that, you mean doing one of the things he loves most. Taking pictures. Apparently Junho has been so pleased with the outcome of Jungkook's pictures he provided for the company last month, that he has decided to call him over again. This time Jungkook prepared you for his presence, not forgetting to point out that Junho must like him since he called him personally and asked him to do today's photoshoot.

Poor women are in their bikinis, just a casual set of beige bikinis, nothing too sexy, probably freezing even though there are a set of heaters around them to keep them warm. Jungkook is making sure to work quickly, you notice the way he eyes the women with worried eyes when he sees one of them shiver slightly.

Although you've seen Jungkook taking pictures countless times, there's something different seeing him doing it while actually working. It's not for fun or his personal interest, he's working while being professional. You're not blind, seeing models eyeing the young photographer with tattoos on display while they suddenly don't mind the cold that much is somehow relatable. However, you're not freezing and you're behind the scenes of it all, but still having a perfect view of Jungkook's back. Even from the place you're standing, you can notice his arms flexing each time he pulls up the camera and takes a few shots. With each model he's done, doing solo but couple shots as well, he starts reviewing the pictures with a prominent and focused frown.

"Is it just me or it's suddenly hot in here?"

Glancing at your co-worker, you see him fan his face before he gives you an obvious mischievous smirk.

"The heaters do an amazing job." you comment, straightening yourself as you hand a fluffy robe to one of the models that walks to Jungkook, looking at the pictures he has taken of her.

You notice the way she stands right behind him, making sure her chest brushes against his shoulder but Jungkook being a total gentleman and too busy working, he apologizes softly and gives her more space by scooting a little. You suppress a snort that wants to get out but Yoongi is quicker, his own snort sounding beside you. The only difference is, his reaction isn't aimed at what you just saw but on your very own comment.

"I'd say your boyfriend does an amazing job." he muses, earning a glare from you because obviously, he's doing and saying it just to get on your nerves.

He knows he's not your boyfriend, he even knows he was never one in the first place. You're still not sure how he knows that, it feels like one second he was determined that you and Jungkook are a real thing and the other he already knew the truth. Of course, you realize you've told him when he kept being annoying but still... you can't believe he knows.

"Are you trying to get on my nerves, Min?" you murmur, clearing your throat while staring ahead at the staff preparing the studio for another photoshoot.

"I thought I already got on your nerves." he says innocently, feigning innocence of course. There's no way this man is innocent or is capable of anything like that.

You look at the watch that hugs your wrists, aware of Yoongi's eyes on you knowing he's waiting for your reaction. Surely, you could just ignore him but where's the fun in that?

"Just two more hours." Is all you say, sighing underneath your breath knowing very well he hears you.

Two more hours and then he won't be getting on your nerves. Somehow, you've slowly grown resistant to his remarks and they don't piss you off as much. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't piss you off at all. He does. A lot.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, grumpy."

Grumpy. Yes, somehow that became your nickname. You do have to admit, you're grumpy whenever Yoongi is around but that's completely not your fault. The person at fault is standing right beside you and calls you that stupid nickname. One thing you learned about Yoongi is, the less you react the more he lets you breathe.

"Two hours and then I'm out." you remind him of your actual working schedule but all he does is smirk in return.

"Hmm, we'll see about that." he hums, causing your brows to pinch in confusion and before you can question him, Sophia, one of your co-workers calls out for him to help her with something.

He grumbles but moves his legs across the room to help her with whatever she starts telling him. Junho calls out for a short break, reminding everyone that it's only a fifteen minute break and then everyone is going back to work.

The models wear their robes quickly, going to one of the dressing rooms to prepare for the next photoshoot while you reach for your already cold tea, slowly sipping on it. You notice Jungkook putting down his camera on the table, beside the laptop and a set of cables before he makes his way towards you.

There's a glint of amusement in his eyes which you recognize immediately. "I don't think I've ever seen you so annoyed like when you're next to that guy." he jokes, sitting on one of the stools in the back of the room as you join him, sitting beside him.

You follow his vision of eyes, noticing he's looking at Yoongi who sports the same frown as he grumbles something under his breath. "He likes to annoy me, that's why. I've to hold myself from punching him in the face, Junho would have me fired if I ever did such a thing." you grumble, causing Jungkook to glance at you as he tries to recognize if you're all serious or partly joking.

In this case you're partly joking. You're not a violent person, even when it comes to annoying a human being such as Yoongi. You wouldn't actually hurt him, but you do imagine punching him sometimes. It eases your mind whenever he has one of his famous remarks.

"Is he treating you badly?" Jungkook asks, frowning while he sends a glare to completely oblivious Yoongi across the room, ready to fight him if you tell on him.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Calm down, you hero. He's just annoying, that's all. He helped me to find a job at the bar, he's the one whose brother owns it. He is annoying but he's not a bad person. Fuck, I hope no one heard me right now." you mutter, jokingly looking at Jungkook as he snorts.

"Maybe he likes you." Jungkook shrugs after a moment while grinning at you teasingly, eyes glancing back at Yoongi.

You let out an ugly snort, looking around to see if someone heard you. Thank God, no one did, besides Jungkook but he's used to your weird and ugly noises.

"He probably likes you more than me." you state, earning a confused look from Jungkook.

Before another word can be uttered between you two, Junho comes rushing back into the studio, ushering everyone to get back to their places. Jungkook looks at his expensive watch, glancing at you with even bigger confusion than from your previous words.

"Five minutes only passed." he informs you while you almost snicker at the innocence of his features and the soft voice.

It's usual Junho gives everyone a break but shortens it himself when he feels like it. There's no explanation for that, just describing how big of an asshole he truly is.

"Welcome to my world." you chime, standing up from your seat while Jungkook pouts at the short break but follows you nevertheless.

Perhaps Yoongi is annoying co-worker, but Jungkook's presence does bring at least some kind of comfort even though he barely has the time to speak to you. However, whenever there is time he always makes sure to stop by and chat with you, ignoring the heart eyes from the literal young models just so he can talk to you.

Working in a bar has become essential to your daily life. Sure, you're working your ass off to be able to get yourself a better car and you wish your Saturdays and sometimes Sundays would be free, but you can't really complain about the job itself. You were a little worried at first, not knowing what to expect because the thought of you working in a bar full of horny and sweaty people didn't sound that appealing. It still doesn't. But everyone is so nice, Mark has been a huge help and a support, praising your work even in front of Yejun which is always nice since he's the boss.

Sometimes he'd help at the bar, making a small chat with you to question your contentment with the job. He's more around than you thought he'd be, considering he's owning this club and has employees for almost everything. Even just from the two months you're working here, you could notice how much this place means to him. Yeah, it's a club but it doesn't mean it's dirty business or something. According to Mark, his parents weren't too happy with Yejun investing all his money to make this club what it is today. He started from scratch, risking a lot if you must say.

Mark gives you a wave when he sees you entering the club, later than usual which you hope nobody will scold you for, and you quickly wave him back making your way to the dressing room. Good thing is you managed to take a nap before you came here, resulting in you sleeping longer than you were planning. In the middle of your deep slumber, you somehow managed to turn off the alarm that you reliably set on to make sure you don't sleep over. Of course, you did. Only for you to snap your eyes open when you suspiciously slept for a long time.

You nod at the bouncer sitting at a bar, waiting for the opening hours which starts in less than ten minutes before you barge into the dressing room.

For a moment you completely ignore another presence in the room, rushing yourself to get ready as soon as possible but knowing Mark and everyone else seems to be already getting things around the club ready, your eyes snap at the person shutting one of the lockers.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you gasp, eyes widening at the sight of smirking Yoongi wearing white shirt with club's logo (which everyone who works as a bartender here is wearing) with black jeans and some white sneakers. "What are you doing here?"

You're speechless, not understanding his sudden presence or the fact he's wearing the club's attire.

"I told you you're not gonna get rid of me that easily," he muses, obviously pleased with your reaction because he's that evil. "My brother is away and asked me to help out a bit."

You're slightly caught off guard hearing him explain his reason behind being here, you thought he would care less to give you an explanation. Nodding, you let the door shut behind you with a louder bang as you warily stare at him.

"What?" he barks. You're not surprised by his reaction at this point, expecting it. He's not the only one who gets on your nerves. You can do the same thing.

Opening your locker, you hide your grin behind it as you pull out your working attire. As you shut the locker, you look at him with a raised brow. "Do you mind? I've to change." you tell him sweetly, battling your eyelashes at him as he stares at you with a frown.

He doesn't look too shocked, but you know he's surprised by the sweetness of your voice. He expected you to bark back. Thus, that's why you haven't done it. Just when you think you got him, a pleased smirk about to curve on your lips, you watch his own lips to do the same before you can.

"Ah," he pouts, "You won't give me a show?" He even has the audacity to eye your body, mockingly chuckling at the sweatpants you're wearing.

In your defense, you've worn something comfortable knowing you'll change your clothes in the club anyway. And the sweatpants are nice and like you said, comfortable. Okay, maybe with the black winter jacket you're wearing you may look like you're about to take the trash out, but that's completely irrelevant.

"Get out." you mutter through gritted teeth, seeing him beam you with a pleased smile.

"Gladly." he sings out, waving you off as he leaves you in the dressing room alone.

When the door shut, you shake your head with a snicker escaping past your lips. You've no idea how you'll make it tonight without actually killing him. Being with him during the day is one thing but being with him after it is another.

Surprisingly, when the club opens and everyone starts working, Yoongi minds his own business and is actually doing an amazing job at managing the club and replacing his brother. Even everyone out of your co-workers seems to be thrilled that Yoongi is here.

"Mark, can you grab the kitchen wipes from the back?" Yoongi yells at Mark who's on the other side of the bar with two more barmen.

He looks at Yoongi immediately, nodding while a soft blush spreads on his cheeks. You can notice it even from the distance and in such lightning. He even smiles shyly in Yoongi's way before he scurries away to the storage room.

You're wiping the counter, stealing a glance at Yoongi who's already looking at you with a grin. "What?"

"What was that?" You don't beat around the bush, voicing out your curiosity as you can't help but smirk at remembering Mark's shy face. You've never seen him being so shy and Yoongi is obviously the reason why he reacted that way.

"We hooked up a few times." he shrugs, revealing the information freely to you as you choke up on your spit, eyes widening.

You stop wiping the counter, turning yourself to Yoongi who has an amused grin on his face. "You--you two hooked up?" You'd never guess it.

"Is that so hard to believe?" he asks, pursing his lips in amusement as he takes the wipe that got neglected by you and starts wiping the rest of the counter.

"No, I... I'm just surprised. I'd have never guessed that you and Mark... are you dating?"

You wouldn't admit it out loud, but Yoongi seems like a mystery to you. You know him but you don't. Every little information about him is interesting and that's because you're so damn curious.

"No, I don't date." he chuckles, finishing wiping as he tosses the wipe into the bin.

"Isn't that what people usually say? And then they'll fall in love with someone and change their opinion about dating?" you muse amusingly, hearing him chuckle as he shakes his head.

"I'm not against dating. It's just not my thing but I don't rule it out." he answers, surprising you by the honesty in his voice.

There are times when the two of you are civil and can actually talk to each other without any bickering, or something that would cause the two of you to be irritated with each other.

You nod, sighing as you look at the busy crowd. You don't comment any further, you already got enough of an answer and your mind is preoccupied by the sight in front of you. The dance floor is filled with sweaty bodies and everybody humping each other, which isn't quite an unexpected view but you also don't let your eyes drift elsewhere like usual. You look at the young couple, dancing near the bar, in their own world as they look like they're five seconds from fucking. You can't see the guy's face clearly but you can tell he's well built and obviously knows how to move. The girl he's dancing with is pressed against his chest with her back, grinding her ass into him while he holds her tightly, lips brushing her ear.

You gulp, looking away with red cheeks when you realize you've been staring at them. You've never missed sex that much like you'd go crazy if you haven't had it, but you've already experienced what it feels like to be sexually frustrated. However, there was Jungkook who helped you with that at that time but he's not available to do that anymore. Unfortunately, your hands don't do much and even though the shower head can bring you at least some kind of orgasm, it's nothing mind blowing. Jungkook literally ruined your sexlife because even you are not enough to make yourself feel good.

He has shown you how good you can enjoy yourself and now there are times when you think about all the times he pounded you to the mattress. It's wrong to think this about your best friend, you two are no longer hooking up. You both act like it has never happened in the first place. You're glad you were able to go back to just being best friends who don't fuck each other. It hasn't been weird between you which you're thankful for. None of you do a big deal out of it and you've no idea when this sudden frustration is coming from. Okay, maybe it's not sudden. Jungkook isn't only attractive but brought the best orgasms to you. It would be a sin to forget what you experienced with him in bed (or anywhere else he has taken you).

"Is there someone you like?"

Your thoughts fade away as soon as you hear Yoongi, met with a cocky smirk. Fuck, of course he enjoyed you eyeing the couple.

You look back at the couple before you realize what you're doing, seeing the guy interweaving their fingers as he leads her out of the club. Great, at least someone is getting laid.

"No," you answer, looking at Yoongi who takes a gulp of his water bottle. "Not at all." you murmur, avoiding his grin that he's trying to cover with the bottle while he's drinking.

Ignoring the fact Yoongi has caught you staring at the couple, you hear him chuckle. "You can go home."

You raise your brows in surprise, glancing at the small clock to see you still have half an hour to work. "You sure?" you ask, head tilting towards the crowded dance floor.

It's half past eleven and your shift ends at midnight. One of the things you appreciate about working in this bar and Yejun as a boss, you both agreed you won't be working until closing time which is around two in the morning, if it's not completely necessary. This way you get to earn some money but still get enough sleep.

"Don't make me repeat it," he murmurs and rolls his eyes, before he stares at you with a grin. "Yeah, Tania is supposed to come in a few minutes,"

Tania, one of the other bartenders you still haven't met yet. You remember Yejun and Mark mentioning her once but that's it. She usually comes after midnight and helps around the bar until it's closing time.

As much as you wish to lay in your bed and rest your eardrums that shake from the loud music, you need the money and Saturdays are the only days you can work. You usually keep your Sundays free, considering you've got your job on Monday and even though you need money, you still need a rest too.

Yoongi notices your hesitation, probably knowing the reason behind it. "I won't tell anyone, you'll still get paid as if you stayed until midnight." he says, noticing the way your face lights up but then you look at him with a suspicious frown.

"This won't backfire at me, right?"

He laughs, actually laughs as his shoulders shake while he shakes his head at your absurdity. Well, he can't blame you for being suspicious about him being good and doing you a favor without you even asking for it.

"Believe it or not, I'm not that evil." he says, an amused grin spreads on his lips as you think it through.

Fuck it. You're tired and Yoongi is the boss now (not that you'd tell him that), it'd just boost his ego.

"Okay, thank you." you tell him, seeing him giving you a nod as he waves you before one of the customers is ready to order drinks, stealing his attention.

Freshly showered and wrapped in your soft sheets, you toss around for like a hundredth time causing you to groan in frustration. You've been yawning ever since you laid into bed but can't seem to sleep. Somehow, your mind doesn't let you and thinks it's better for you to stare at the dark ceiling or toss around. No matter how many times you do that, your body doesn't find the comfortable position to fall asleep in and your mind keeps drifting to the time when you didn't have to worry about not getting enough pleasure. Jungkook has always made sure your needs were taken care of. And fuck, it's so wrong for you to think about him or the time you got to spend together (time when he fucked you, so all that left your mouth were moans and hs name). But you can't help it, your mind keeps going back to him and you let the memories replay.

Memories of him touching you, tasting you and stretching you with his thick length. You remember tasting him for the first time, intimidated by his size before it all went away as soon as you tasted him. It was so hard to get him to let out a sound of pleasure, making you think you're not doing that great job at it. But then you let him fuck your throat, him being the first to have the privilege to do that and fuck, was he excited to. Or the time he spanked you and warned you when you forgot to count how many spanks he gave to your already red ass cheeks. You find yourself thinking about him letting his fingers slide into your heat while you were taking a shower, or all the explicit things he used to say to all the time. Jungkook is sex on legs, that much you're certain. He wouldn't even touch you between your thighs to get you aroused and all wet for him. His mouth and words coming out of it were just enough.

Yearning for someone else's touch (or specifically Jungkook's but you'd never admit that, not even to yourself) it's not that hard for you to get the wetness pool between your legs. You shift uncomfortably, wondering if this is the right time to touch yourself when you know your fingers aren't enough. Another idea pops in your head, your teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you think it through. You said to yourself you'd never do that, not alone because you insisted on not needing that. But the temptation and the wetness uncomfortably spreading over your pajama pants persuades you.

Groaning, you toss away the blanket and turn on your night lamp. Your legs move on their own and you're already getting out of bed, crouching in front of it to pull out the box you've hidden there. You stare at it, remembering when Jungkook handed it to you like it was yesterday.

You remember when Jungkook sneaked it into your travel bag once you've stayed over at his place. You didn't have to wonder what's in the box because how could you forget? His number was quickly speed dialed and you waited for him to pick up, barely letting him to greet you as you bombarded him with questions. He had the audacity to laugh and inform you he cleaned the toy since the last time you've used it, no... since the last time he has used it on you. You grumbled something along the lines he's stupid for thinking you'll use it.

If he could see you right now, crouching on your bedroom floor and opening the box, he'd certainly feel all too smug about being right.

The toy looks just like new, no trace of being used before. You're stupid. What else have you expected? Your cum dried on it? You cringe at your own thoughts, feeling slightly embarrassed as you take it into your hand and press on the button, jumping in shock when the toy comes to life. It keeps vibrating in your hands, the soft buzzing sound making the tip of your ears red. You turn it off, gulping at the sight of it because it's almost too identical to Jungkook's own dick.

"Fuck it," you whisper to yourself, hopping back on bed with the toy in your hand. You shimmy out of your pajamas, glad for the heating being turned on so you're not cold. It'll take a moment for your body to warm itself from the arousal.

Placing the toy beside you, you make yourself comfortable as you start by cupping your breasts. Your hands are small, way smaller than Jungkook's and the touch doesn't do much. Sighing, you don't let it discourage you as you trail your hand between your legs, while the other one pinches your nipple. Your fingers circle your clit, imagining they're not yours but it's not that easy. You're surprised how wet you already are, the months of absence from sex taking its tool on you and even though you're much more sensitive now, it doesn't do much. You retrieve your hands off your body, reaching for the toy. Nobody's got the time for this bullshit when you feel yourself not being that aroused from it. You bring the toy back to life, the buzzing still makes you slightly embarrassed which causes you to chuckle at your absurdity. People do this all the time. Why the fuck are you so weird about this? It's just Jungkook's stupid head and face popping up in your mind and the fact he ordered this for you. Best friend in the world for sure.

You let the toy press against your clit, a shivered breath leaving your mouth as you feel the first vibrations of the sextoy. You press it harder, circling it over the sensitive bud as you hear the wet sounds of your juices meeting the toy. Doing this for a couple of minutes, you quickly grow bored and not as aroused as at the beginning, so you decide to let the tip slide into you. It feels good but not what you expected. You don't give up and start pushing the toy deeper, barely halfway before you pull it away. It's not that bad. You repeat the process, pumping the pink vibrator while it vibrates against your walls.

Surprisingly, you even let out a couple of hushed moans while you try to roll your hips into the toy, but that's it. You try taking more of it or even quickening the pace, nor touching your breasts or clit helps that much. So, you shamefully think about the times Jungkook fucked you so hard he made you see stars. The sound of his body colliding with yours is almost distant, sounds so explicit that used to make you wet even more. Or you remember when the two of you fought and then had sex. He slowed down his usual feral and rushed pace, muttered with his deep and raspy voice how good you feel and how sorry he is. It was slow but intense just as much, full of emotions where you could feel how sorry he is without him even saying it, even though he made sure he said it. You do this for a few more minutes before you come to the conclusion you won't orgasm like this. It doesn't feel better, even worse as you feel yourself not being that aroused or wet. You're not Jungkook and he's not here. Pulling out the toy, you throw it onto bed frustratedly as you let out a groan.

"Fuck," you curse, rubbing your palms over your face. Just as arousal came, it leaves and leaves you disappointed all over again. "Fucking Jeon, what have you done to me?" you mutter, voice muffled by your palms.

He showed you there is possibly no one who could fuck you better. Not even yourself. That's what he has done to you.

Starting your Monday by being back to work and having to make constant phone calls has busied you enough to the point, you don't think about the Saturday failure of trying to make yourself orgasm. Probably your biggest fail this year, if not of your entire life and that speaks volume.

"That's a wrap for today, guys!" Junho claps his hands, showing one of his rare smiles while everyone seems more than revealed by the information. You can't blame them, the very few people from stuff that have decided to work overtime have been here since the early morning. You included, since one of the companies in Japan that holds a fashion show every year has asked for a collaboration with your company, wanting some of the models from the agency.

Junho had been more than eager to jump at the opportunity, nor you can blame him. Some of these people in this very room came all the way from Japan, just to make sure they're present and met everyone which could've been easily done through a video chat like you'd expect them to do. They pleasantly surprised you, proved to be professional and very kind like it's been said about them.

You listen to Junho voicing out his appreciation, which surely is just his tactic to kiss your new business partners' asses, thanking everyone while you're packing your stuff like the rest of the people in the room do, praying he'll shut up soon. You even notice some raised eyebrows coming from your co-workers at Junho's forced politeness and kindness which, to be honest, wants you to let out an amused snicker.

"Be careful everyone, the roads are crazy right now." he says at the end, which makes you look out of the window and notice the snow hasn't eased that much since this morning. It's noticeable even in the darkness of Monday's evening.

Whether his words are honest or not, it's still nice he pointed that out.

As much as you love snow and when it's snowing, you can't find much joy in removing the snow off your car. Once you finally get to your car, you're freezing your ass off while you pray your engine will start working. You haven't had that much problem with it, a few times Yoongi had to come to your rescue while he kept grumbling under his breath but nevertheless, he helped you. It wasn't for free, you're not that heartless to let him help you just like that. You made sure to bring him his Iced Americano a few times, even in December because apparently, he doesn't give a fuck and loves it even in this season. However, Yoongi is already back at home, or wherever he went after his shift ended. To say it this way, if you'll have trouble with the engine again, you would have to ask one of the people that are coming out of the company anyway and pray there'll be someone able to help you, or you'd have to call one of your friends to rescue you.

Luckily, the sound of your engine starting and working is probably one of the nicest things of today and you let out a relieved sigh. Setting up the radio, you put on your playlist called 'chill drive' which you created purposely for reasons when you're driving. You don't forget to turn the heating on, hoping it'll do its job before you can actually make it home, otherwise your ass will really freeze.

You drive out of the parking lot, listening to music while humming the soft and melodic tune as you drive onto the road. You're being careful, driving slower than usual which probably annoys the rest of drivers but you could care less. Other drivers probably don't care about their safety or the safety of others as they speed up through the roads while it keeps snowing, the snow practically pouring from the sky. You keep the speed steady, more comfortable once you make it out of the streets and drive through a long driveway with three lanes.

You're focused, your eyes on the road while you listen to a soft and melodic voice humming in the background. And you've no idea how it happens because one minute you're sure nothing could go wrong but then the car, that's been driving fast and is in front of you, suddenly stops at the red light. Your legs automatically press the brakes but your car weirdly shifts on the snowy road and you make a mistake by taking your leg off the brakes. The issue is that you panic, aware of the state your car has been lately and you feel the steering wheel turning under your fingers. You barely have any control of it, trying to hold it tightly while you press the breaks fast again. In a split second, your car is moving to the side and it spins, the side of your head harshly meeting the window.

And the other second you feel the impact of your head and glass colliding.

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