#anyway as u can guess by that note i got the idea while listening to luna's audios (AGAIN) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

awooghan · 2 years

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24 to 25 ✧.* y.ji (part two)

❄ PAIRING: jeongin x fem!reader

❄ GENRE: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, christmas

❄ WARNINGS: mild language, mentions of food, long as hell, i put the ‘slow’ in slowburn (in my defense this trope does not work without it), i’ve checked like 1922847473 times for inconsistencies but if there are any pls be nice it’s my first long fic ;w; also you can slowly see the quality of my writing decline in the end im sorry 😭

❄ WORD COUNT: 47.7k (part one: 25.9k; part two: 21.8k) i'm so sorry

❄ SUMMARY: “stay for christmas?” was a phrase jeongin first uttered to you when you were both ten years old, but you had no idea how much those three little words would mean to you as the years go by. (inspired by “24 to 25” by stray kids)

❄ NOTES: IT’S FINALLY UP!! i’m so sorry for the wait, i really really wanted to get this right and it took me wayyy longer than i thought it would. but i love how it turned out and i'm so proud of it. i hope y’all enjoy :’)

i’ll include more to the note when i'm not in such a rush to get this posted but tysm to everyone who helped me in writing it! @crispy-chan jas thank you for beta reading (i’m so sorry it was so long) your comments were really sweet and really reassured me that i was doing okay <3 thank u @pearleechai and @gloseoks for helping me out with that one part i got stuck on for like a week lmaooo. to parker specifically, ty for all ur help and encouragement in the couple chapters i asked for help on :D i’m sorry it meant u had some of the fic spoiled for u tho ;w; lastly, @svtbabies hopie u have been my lifesaver from start to finish w this fic. thank u so so much for planning w me and for the multiple times u saved me from a huge writer’s block. i wouldn’t have been able to complete this without you, so ty for everything <33 also ty for the banner lol

➳ IMPORTANT!!! this fic is so long that i have to split it into two parts. i'd use the legacy editor but i can't toggle btwn the two anymore 😭 i did not intend for it to be this lengthy but anything for childhood friends to lovers i guess. PLEASE READ PART ONE FIRST.

part one | [part two]

network tags: @straykidsland

taglist: @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @crow953 @urmomma0324 @tasmtrilogy

20.

Regardless of how desperately you wanted to enjoy Christmastime like you'd usually do, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it this year.

You had long broken up with Heeseung, and while it did hurt immensely to begin with, it still persisted as a dull ache. You’re a little bummed you couldn’t indulge in your Christmas romance fantasies this year, but you figured you’d manage. You know that wasn't everything in a relationship; it was just a bonus, especially for someone like you.

But what does feel unbearable this year had nothing to do with love or romance. All you could think about was last year and the way Jeongin had left.

It plagued your mind for weeks after that night, on whether or not you should have stayed and spent your time with Jeongin instead of bringing Heeseung to Jisung's Christmas party. Nevertheless, you had to remind yourself that you didn't know Jeongin had planned to leave that night—and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't go back and change the past.

You couldn't tell if you resented Jeongin for what he did, or if you blame yourself for not listening to him. All the times he wanted to speak to you last year—maybe even to tell you, you just cut him off, too caught up in your new romance with Heeseung to even notice what Jeongin wanted to say.

Perhaps this was what you deserved for trying to follow Jisung’s advice when you were sixteen. “Date and move on,” he said. There was nothing to move on from, but you still tried it anyway.

And look where that got you.

Your original plan had been to stay nestled up in the comforts of your bed, watching whatever trash Hallmark had put out this year as you drank an atrocious amount of hot chocolate to comfort yourself. You were tempted to avoid Christmas plans altogether, especially when all the neighborhood party would do was remind you of Jeongin..

However, Jisung, the persistent fool that he was, wouldn't let that happen. Not when you could be watching laughable Christmas movies with him and his, and now your, friends.

Felix and Hyunjin are squished together on the loveseat in Jisung's apartment, not that Felix seemed to mind as it gave him an excuse to cuddle someone. Seungmin is positioned on the floor, his legs crossed under the coffee table as he picks away at what little snacks remained in the bowls Jisung had laid out earlier. And you were lazily stretched out across the sofa, your head in Jisung's lap. Since Jisung was the one that dragged you out of bed, he was going to have to put up with your grumpy state.

"What do we watch next?" Felix calls out as the end credits of the Elf roll across the screen. He casually scans the room for your responses, his arms wrapped loosely around Hyunjin's waist.

"The Grinch?" Seungmin suggests before Hyunjin quickly follows up with A Charlie Brown Christmas.

You pout. All of those sound good but you’d be lying if you said you were in a particular mood for any of them. It almost crushed you to say that, as they had brought you so much joy in the past, but none of them seemed to cut it this year.

A few seconds passes by and you decide to speak up, throwing in a suggestion of your own.

"Are there any Christmas animes? Why don't we watch those instead of a movie?"

A deafening silence fills the room at your suggestion. The boys exchange confused glances with each other, and you begin to wonder if you said something wrong. If there were Christmas cartoons, surely there’d be Christmas animes, right? But your thoughts are quickly cut short when you hear Jisung gasp rather loudly.

"Oh, so NOW you want to get into anime?!"

Your frown deepens and you hit Jisung's thigh with your fist. "Shut up, it was just a suggestion."

Another silence hangs in the room and the other three boys watch you silently like hawks, as if they were ready to pounce on you at the next move you’d make. You hate how small you feel under their piercing stares, and you shuffle to the other side of the couch in hopes that they’d stop.

"This isn't because you miss a certain person, is it?” Jisung chirps in a teasing tone. He crawls over to your end of the couch, a grin pulling at his lips as he pokes at your cheek repeatedly. “Is that why you're all Scrooge McDuck?"

You jerk your head away and shove his hand back, letting out a strangled groan. "Oh my god, Jeongin has nothing to do with this! and it’s Ebenezer Scrooge!"

Jisung snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. "I never said Jeongin's name."

"He got you there, just saying." Felix chimes in with a shrug.

You huffed frustratedly, spluttering, "I– this– this isn't about Jeongin, and this isn't about Heeseung either. can we just move on from this already?"

"You know it's okay to miss him, right?” Hyunjin says, his voice soft. “You’re not doing anything wrong."

"I never said that!" you groan again, raising your voice slightly. "I can’t suggest an anime because you guys assume I miss someone? Can I not do anything without you guys thinking it’s about a boy?!”

"Well, you never even mentioned anime once until now,” Seungmin points out, “the only reason you would is because of Jeongin—”

“It’s not about Jeongin!” you snap, burying your face in your hands in defeat. “God, I hate men.”

A chorus of offended ‘hey’s echo throughout the room which causes your eyes to roll.

"After all this time? after all these years, sugarplum?" Jisung gasps, his hand over his heart in feigned offense.

"Oh my god, you know what's not what I mean, Jisung," you huff, grabbing your phone from the coffee table as you stand up. "I'm going to get us more snacks, I hate this."

You carry yourself to the kitchen and from behind you, you hear Jisung call out, "But you haven't taken the bowls with you!”

Without turning back, you make a face to yourself. "I'll just get new ones," you respond blankly.

The kitchen was a break you so desperately needed. While you could still hear the boys chatting in the living room, it was just muffled enough to keep your mind at ease. you thought you could get away with Jisung not mentioning Jeongin, but maybe you had put too much faith in him.

You didn't mean it, really, but sometimes it got to be a lot.

You unlock your phone and staring back at you is a photo you knew you should have changed earlier, but something inside of you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

It was an old selfie of you and Jeongin, one you had to beg him to take in the first place a few years prior. You both had your large winter coats on and his arm hung loosely around your shoulders as you both grinned into the camera. In the picture, you had a light blush on your cheeks—presumably from the cold—but deep down you knew otherwise.

You brought up his contact. This photo was one where he isn't looking at you, but he’s still holding up a peace sign. Just the look of it and the memory of that day flashes in your mind, making you chuckle.

Clicking on the text conversation, you're met with the last text you had sent him months and months ago, the small seen tick making you frown.

I miss you... you type out the words slowly. Your thumb hovered over the send key, but you can’t bring yourself to press down.

The glassy feeling in your eyes appears and you blink the tears away rapidly as you let your finger fall on the backspace key, completely erasing the message before you lock your phone once more.

What you didn't know was in his dorm room, bundled up in blankets like a burrito was Jeongin as he hopelessly scrolled through his phone. he had stumbled across a photo of Christmas lights that reminded him of you, and it took every ounce of his being to stop himself from sending it to you, finding himself scrolling through your message history instead. How could he text you so casually after what he did? Afterjust leaving like that without so much as a proper goodbye?

He watches your typing symbol come up at the bottom, only to have it disappear moments later—leaving him just as despair-ridden as you.

21.

You lost track of how long you had been cuddling against Yeonjun’s chest as Die Hard played on the tv. You had wanted a Christmas film, an actual Christmas film, however, Yeonjun was adamant that this did, in fact, count, as it happened around Christmas day.

You gaze up at Yeonjun, your eyes lingering on his own. You smile at how much focus he has on the movie, to the point where he’s hardly blinking.

You originally knew Yeonjun from your neighborhood, which kind of makes things go full circle for you in a way. Him being an older kid, though, meant that you never had a reason to know him personally or even have a chance to talk to him. He stuck with his group, and you stuck with yours.

But in a weird twist of fate, you met again when you got a part-time job at a small family restaurant just off of your university campus. After a few awkward conversations and some catching up, you both seemed to warm up to each other and Yeonjun soon asked you out on a date… you happily said yes.

Yeonjun is amazing. He's patient with you, smiles at you like you light up the whole sky, looks after you when you feel ill, he takes you on adventures at midnight for snacks just because you mentioned you were hungry.

He’s, on paper, your dream guy. Handsome, understanding, open and caring. You like him, you really do. Yet, it always feels like something's missing—but you can never put your finger on what.

The end credits of Die Hard roll across the screen, causing you to lift your weight from off of Yeonjun and stretch your arms out around you.

“I should get home,” you yawn, causing Yeonjun to pout slightly.

He reaches out to grab your hand as he whines. “Do you have to?”

You match his pout, nodding your head slowly. “Yeah, I should get back before it snows.”

“You don’t have to,” Yeonjun muses, and you watch the corners of his mouth twitch into a hopeful smile. “You could… stay over for Christmas? What do you think?”

Your breath hitches at his words, stiffening like a board as you stare at him with wide eyes.

“Stay… over for Christmas?”

He seems to notice the hesitation in your voice, and he begins to rub gentle circles with his thumb on the back of your hand.

“Think about it,” Yeonjun continues, “waking up together on Christmas day? It would be so cute!” he grins. You could practically see the tiny hearts floating about his head.

Stay over for Christmas. He doesn't know about it, but the whole sentence makes you feel uneasy. The implications and everything they bring with them—not to mention all the memories they invoke—are too much for you to handle at that moment. Not that you’d be the first to admit it

“I— I shouldn’t,” you start, your heart hurting as Yeonjun’s lips twist into a frown. “Baby, Soobin’s here and I don’t want to make things awkward for you by intruding.”

Yeonjun sits up suddenly, his fingers linking with your own. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, plus he enjoys your company. Not as much as I do, obviously,” Yeonjun cheekily grins at his words, sending a wink your way.

You huff a laugh. “Regardless,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “I... I don’t think I feel comfortable staying here yet.” Your own frown seems to match his. “So I'd rather get back before it starts snowing.” Your shoulders drop and you focus on his fingers that are busy playing with your own. “I’m sorry.”

One of Yeonjun’s hands moves from your fingers and delicately slides against your cheek, guiding your head so you’re looking up at him. Whilst you can see hints of sadness behind his eyes, his smile is one of comfort and understanding.

“Don’t be silly.” His smile grows. “I like you and we can go as slow or quick as you want.” His hand moves from your cheek as he lightly brushes your hair out of your face. “Don’t be scared to tell me, we’ll work through it together.”

Your heart swells at his words and you lean into his touch, placing a small kiss on his palm. “You’re too sweet to me,” you mumble.

He disagrees. “No, it’s just the decent thing everyone should do, They're your boundaries, I’m not going to be an idiot and push them.”

“How did I find you?” You wonder aloud. His cheeks tint red and his smile somehow grows even wider than before.

“No, no, how did I find you?”

Your foreheads lean against one another, and you can feel his breath ever-so-slightly tickle your skin.

“Can you guys stop being disgusting now?” a voice huffs from behind you two.

You and Yeonjun jump apart from each other and you turn to see his roommate, Soobin, standing with a scowl plastered on his face, an empty cereal bowl in hand.

Yeonjun grumbles to himself, muttering ‘You're just jealous,’ as he grabs your hand, guiding you past Soobin and towards his dorm room door. At the same time, you quickly call out a goodbye to Soobin and Yeonjun sighs sadly when you both stop at his door.

He pulls you close and you can feel his body heat seeping into you. It almost, almost, makes you want to stay, as you would rather be in the warm arms of your boyfriend than face the ten-minute walk home in the cold.

“Text me when you get home?” Yeonjun asks into your shoulder and you hum in response.

“I will."

Before you pull away completely, Yeonjun places a light kiss onto the side of your lips, leaving you open to steal one right back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” this time Yeonjun is the one to hum. A small smile plays at his lips. “I love you.”

You still for a moment at his words. You should say them back—you know you should—but you just can’t. They’re on the tip of your tongue and yet you fall silent instead. You settle for stealing another kiss from him and reaffirming your words from earlier, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You can tell his smile is dripping in sadness, but you're unable to bring yourself to utter the words he so desperately wants to hear back from you. You look back and wave for a final time before you exit the hallway that leads you to the elevators and out of the building.

When you finally make your way outside, you take a deep breath; it feels almost like a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders. The pressure of staying over with Yeonjun is gone. But now in its place is another burden you’re not ready to think about. It had started creeping into the back of your mind the moment he said those words—a reminder of times gone by. Of another boy with dark hair and eyes that sparkled and those same, fateful words.

As you walk home, you shake your head, trying to push back the tears already threatening to cloud your vision. You’ve spent too long shoving down and ignoring those feelings just to ruin everything now by bringing them back up. You aren’t ready to think about it now and, as you look up at the clear, cloudless sky, you’re not sure if you ever will be.

It did not snow that winter. Not a single flake fell from the sky.

22.

After years of not going to the neighborhood Christmas party, it feels weird to be back.

The party happens to be at Yeonjun’s family’s house this year, and once Yeonjun found this out, he jumped at the chance to introduce you to his family. You couldn’t help but smile at the hope swirling in his eyes that day as he gushed about how much they’ll love you.

But being the sweetheart that he is, he definitely noticed the doubt swimming in your eyes. He tried his best to reassure you, telling you how sweet his family is and how excited they are to finally meet you.

That’s what wins you over, and now you’re here. The feeling of being home, or, at least, a few houses away from it, brings a warm feeling to your chest. To be able to spend it with your lovely boyfriend only deepens the feeling.

In a weird way, though, you notice bits and bits, just minor details that others seem to gloss over, that only tug at your heartstrings. From the movie playing on the flatscreen, to the gingerbread house tha’s about to be devoured by a wide-eyed seven-year-old, it brings this feeling of nostalgia that you can’t quite shake off. The more the night goes on, the more it seems to eat at you.

If you didn’t already think this was some weird full circle moment of sorts, you definitely do now.

Everywhere you look, all you seem to get is mirages of past times. Faint traces of Jeongin linger in the crevices of your mind. Even if it had been two years since you last saw him, he stuck to your memories like glue.

You tried your best to push those memories to the side—to push the ick you felt every time something that reminded you of those moments away, even if it did send a chill down your spine.

But Yeonjun just had to utter those words. “Want to stay over for Christmas?”

It made you physically pause, the words processing in your mind. Ten years worth of memories surf through your mind at lightning speed. The slight word change gives you the worst feeling in your stomach you have ever felt—it was like a huge pit of emotions had opened up inside of you.

You take a breath and exhale it slowly. “Do you mean stay for Christmas?”

“Stay for Christmas, stay over for Christmas,” Yeonjun sighs, “same thing.”

“It’s different,” is all you can mumble in response.

Yeonjun groans, leaning his weight onto his hands that are placed on the counter sides.

“One word difference.”

You snap to face him, a stern look making an appearance on your face. Your voice dripping with irritation, you say, “But there’s still a difference.”

You can cut the sudden tension that arises with a knife and it’s like that is exactly what Yeonjun chooses to do. He stands straight, turning to you, and you can see how tense his jaw is—like he’s been holding everything in, and how it’s now about to burst open at the seams.

“We’ve been together for over a year and you still can’t even stay over. And when I offer to spend Christmas with you because I know it’s your favorite time of year, you fight me on it.” Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Is it because I’m the one that’s asking?”

“What?” you gasp, shaking your head. “It’s just, it’s stay for Christmas. Not stay over, not stay with, it’s stay for Christmas.”

Yeonjun squeezes his eyes shut, hand still in his hair. All you can do is stare at him, waiting for what he says next. Once he does open his eyes, you can see the fogginess as in them, and when he speaks again, you feel like you’re being torn in two.

“But I’m not Jeongin, I can’t ask in the way he would.”

You open your mouth to speak, shocked at his words, but nothing comes out.

“What does Jeongin have to do with this?” You question. “I like you because you’re you, Yeonjun, not because you’re someone else.”

You both stand there, staring at each other and you can’t help but feel like neither of your words are sinking in. Like they were falling onto deaf ears.

“Well what about the snow?” Yeonjun suddenly asks. Had he been spending too much time with Jisung?

“Yeonjun, baby, it’s just the weather,” you look at him with soft eyes, but all it seems to do is break him more.

With a hiccup, he tries to keep his tears at bay, “Then how come it never happens when we’re together?”

You have to look away from him, not because you don’t care, but because if you look at him any longer, tears would spill from your own eyes. It would only just make everything harder than it already is.

Yeonjun’s sniffles fill your ears and from the corner of your eye, you can see him wipe his tears away. Even when he takes a few steps towards you and takes one of your hands in his, you’re still unable to look at him in fear of breaking.

“I’ll walk you home,” he whispers gently.

You gaze at the floor and nod your head, squeezing the hand that held yours. He squeezes it right back in a silent understanding. It’s like you hear both of your hearts cracking like glass in the silence, but it was unlike any type of heartbreak you had ever felt before…

It can’t compare to the heartbreak you had with Heeseung, or even the heartbreak you felt when Jeongin left. This is its own brand of heartbreak, one that would last and one that would carve itself into your heart, a cruel reminder that will follow you for all time.

The walk back to your apartment is a quiet one. Your fingers stay linked with Yeonjun’s, and every now and then, you’d squeeze each other’s hands to remind yourself of the moment—of the feeling of your hands entwined with each other.

When you’re outside of your door, it’s bittersweet and it’s heartbreaking. And when Yeonjun reluctantly draws his hand away from yours, you want everything to chase after it with your own.

This is when you finally look up at him.

His eyes are red and fresh tears have prickled up in his eyes as soon as they meet yours. As soon as you see his tears, your eyes quickly well up to match his.

“We should,” he hiccups. “We should take some time apart.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, sniffling away the sob that crawls up your throat. You feel Yeonjun’s light kiss on your cheek, and that sob defies you, escaping your lips.

When Yeonjun pulls away, he speaks softly, as if speaking any louder would break him completely. “We’re on different pages and we both deserve people who aren’t.”

His lips linger on your cheek, like a silent plea begging you not to let him move away, but to pull him closer. To tell him that you both could make whatever it is you called a relationship work.

But you don’t, and he soon pulls away, the warmth of his lips is quickly replaced with a damp, cold breeze.

You regret opening your eyes when you do because you’re met with Yeonjun’s own tears rolling down his face. With no attempt to stop them, Yeonjun hiccups and looks away from you.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” his voice strains.

As he walks away, you open your mouth to yell out for him, but nothing comes out when you try. You just watch as he slowly disappears down the hallway, his shoulders hunched, shuddering slightly every time a quiet sob escapes him.

You can’t tell if you’re lucky or not when you enter the apartment and realize that Jisung isn’t home. On one hand, you wouldn’t have to cry in front of him—on the other, you really don’t want to cry on your own.

You trudge your way to your room, a numbness overtaking your body. You crave the warmth of your blankets and can’t wait to let them hold you in comfort as you cry for the rest of the night.

When your blankets are secured around you and long after the tears have dried out, you sit there in self pity. Your phone is staring up at you, and you somehow find your way to your camera roll. An album of photos of you and Yeonjun sits right by your recents, and you’re hesitant to click on it. But you do, and the collection of photos from the past year and a half makes your heart wrench all over again.

You wish the relationship didn’t end this way as badly as he did, if not more. Yeonjun was perfect in every way—sweet, understanding, patient—yet, somehow, it still wasn’t enough to keep you two together.

“But I’m not Jeongin.” His words echo in your mind as you swipe through all of your selfies with him. He’s right: he’s not Jeongin. But that shouldn’t have mattered… right?

“I can’t ask in the way he would.” He can’t.

Or can he?

If he had not flubbed the iconic line, not even with the slightest one-word difference… would you be where you are right now?

You let your phone drop onto the mattress as you ponder. Burrowing yourself further into your blankets, you try to imagine Yeonjun saying the line correctly this time. ‘Stay for Christmas?’ he’d chirp, hope lighting up his beautiful brown eyes. ‘Stay for Christmas?’ he’d pipe, a pure smile pulling his soft lips upward.

But it doesn’t feel right.

No matter how you try to picture it, there’s something about those words leaving Yeonjun’s mouth that makes your stomach twist. As hard of a time as you gave him about getting the phrase wrong, imagining him getting it right almost feels worse.

Maybe he can’t pull it off like Jeongin can. Maybe he was missing the awkward little beat Jeongin always carried when he uttered those three little words. Maybe he lacked the sheepish glow Jeongin always seemed to have creep up his cheeks when he said it, regardless of how coolly he tried to pull it off. Don’t forget the way he’d stupidly wiggle his eyebrows at you, and the faint little giggle that followed as he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

It’s a charm you truly believe only Jeongin could pull off.

But it shouldn’t have mattered that much. Jeongin wasn’t your boyfriend—Yeonjun was. And it’s not like Yeonjun didn’t have his own charm to him. His was more classic romantic, per se—always showing up at your doorstep with roses and a sweet smile, surprising you with dinner, taking you out for midnight drives while you blast both of your favorite songs. He’s a true Romeo, a type of lover that only exists in the movies.

“But I’m not Jeongin.”

You can’t stop Yeonjun’s gut-wrenching words from haunting your mind. It’s like the toll of a bell, its low tone ringing in every corner of your skull, shaking every crevice of your brain. Really, it shouldn’t bother you this much.

For starters, Jeongin is no Romeo. You’ve witnessed him try to be one firsthand—multiple times, actually. The keyword here is ‘try’.

There really were no suave, overly romantic elements to Jeongin, like there were for guys in the movies. He doesn’t need big gestures like flower bouquets bigger than your head to show that he cares. It’s all in the details, the smaller things he did, how he knew you nearly better than you did yourself. Taking you to see the lights all those years ago meant more to you than any grand movie gesture ever could have. Ultimately, he doesn’t need anything else because he is enough as it is. It’s a thought that slowly crept in over time and you never even noticed until it hit you like a brick. He’s not picture-perfect, but that’s not who you want him to be.

He’s just… Jeongin.

A part of you wants to admit it, but maybe, just maybe, he and stay for Christmas were what pushed your love for Christmas and the winter season more. But now that he isn’t here, that’s why it isn’t the same.

Because is there really a Christmas without Stay for Christmas?

The longer you stare at the folder, filled to the brim with photos of you and Yeonjun over the course of your relationship, the more unbearable it becomes. Your thumb hovers over the back button, soon letting fall against the screen.

Scrolling away as far as you could from it, another folder that instantly causes a mountain of flashbacks appears. Giggling at the joke title you named the album, you stare at it for a moment. You aren’t sure when the last time you looked at this album was.

As soon as you click on it, you’re hit with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia so hard, it almost hurts.

It’s a compilation of photos of you and Jeongin, dating back to when your parents handed you your first smartphone. You’re able to scroll so far back that you can find photos of Jeongin in that obnoxious purple sweater. Somehow, as you look at it in that moment, it doesn’t seem as obnoxious as it used to be…

Maybe it had grown on you, like stay for Christmas had grown on Jeongin.

And how pictures of Christmases before (and all-year-round photos) made your heart seem to swell in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. All the lights that grazed your presence when you were with him, all the longer-than-necessary hugs you two shared in the snow, even the thoughts, the memories of it, are like little static shocks sending metaphorical butterflies swarming around you. It plays at your chest like a flute and it makes you begin to wonder… if the thought of Yeonjun or actually being around Yeonjun, or even his touch, made you feel that way.

You’d think since Yeonjun is—was—your boyfriend, you wouldn’t have to think so hard for the answer. Yet here you are, comparing everything you felt with Jeongin to how you felt with Yeonjun over the past year.

It opens up the box of feelings you’ve tried so hard to push away. This time though, there’s no stopping it as everything bubbles up and spills over.

You continue looking through the photos of you and Jeongin, hardly noticing when the pictures start to blur slightly, fresh tears making their way down your cheeks. You missed him, you missed him so much it makes your chest hurt. There’s no denying that anymore, not that there was ever a point to it anyway. You missed everything about him, how he knew you like the back of his own hand to how effortless things had been between you two for so long.

A teary smile makes its way onto your face, unable to stop the overwhelming warmth that tore through you as you gaze at one photo of you two. Jeongin had an arm slung over your shoulders, braces-covered smile beaming up at you from the screen. You had a grin to match, happy and effortless, without a care in the world.

That’s how Jeongin had always made you feel, even during times when you had disagreements or fought over stupid things. At the end of the day, you always made your way back to him. Because ultimately, nobody else could make you feel the way he could—like you were safe, like you were home.

Eventually you ran out of photos to look through, and somehow you made your way to your messages, scrolling through and rereading old texts from Jeongin.

i miss you… you type out, take a deep breath, and hit send.

Instantly, he responds, making your heart swirl treacherously. i miss you too.

A second later, another text appears from him, making one last wave of tears pool in your eyes. stay for christmas?

The timing truly couldn’t be any worse than this, but you can’t deny the real reason behind your outburst anymore. All the seemingly-random bursts of butterflies in your stomach when you were a teenager slowly start to make sense. All the times your heart would skip a beat whenever he looked at you a certain way, the telltale sense of warmth you felt when you were even around him; heck, the entire incident at the winter formal—it all adds up.

There’s no denying who your heart yearns for anymore. And, if given the choice, there’s no denying which dark-haired boy you would live everything with all over again. No more running away, only running back to him—if only fate would let you.

wouldn’t miss it for the world.

23.

“Why so glum, chum?”

You barely move your head from where you’re curled up on the sofa to look at your roommate as he bounces into the living room. His overly energetic skips come to a halt right behind you and he looms his head above you, letting the corners of his mouth drag into an exaggerated pout.

You let out a slow breath and stare back at him with solemn eyes. The weather had dropped to the all-too-familiar December chill, rainbow lights adorned the city—heck, you’re watching A Charlie Brown Christmas for the third time in a row—but you can’t seem to will yourself into the Christmas spirit even if you tried. The reason seems pretty obvious to you.

For better or worse, the boy tapping his fingers on the back of the couch as he waits impatiently for your answer is one you’ve known for years. Over time, he’s morphed from the awkward older kid that ‘needs to take a couple babies under [his] wing’, to a sweet (when he wants to be)—dare you say, mature (again, when he wants to be)—older brother figure of sorts. If anyone knows why you’re so somber as you wallow in candy cane wrappers and your favorite ugly Christmas sweater, it should be him.

“You know why,” you grumble.

You think that’s enough of an answer, but Jisung bends down to get a better look at you and attempts to pry more.

“Hmm, do I?”

Another, more irritated huff leaves your parted lips as you turn to Lucy mercilessly grilling Charlie Brown, and you make damn sure your back is to your snoopy roommate.

Why do you even need to explain yourself to him? Jisung has literally had a front-row seat to the entire story since before he knew how to part his hair properly. He watched you slowly and hopelessly fall for your best friend before his very eyes since you were sixteen. He witnessed you delude yourself into a bottomless pit of denial for years, pushing yourself down so far that not even the most picture-perfect guy could pull you out.

Your life might as well be a sappy romance anime unfolding right in front of him, and Jisung knows every minute detail, every moment of development, every tear you shed for Jeongin like the back of his hand. He could whip up a play-by-play of your history with that boy faster than he can for the plot of Your Name—and he loves that movie.

But you guess as the older brother figure, it also means he has to annoy the living hell out of you for it. Not that he didn’t in the first place, but usually he’d, you know, comfort you when you’re upset.

Waddling around the couch to plop next to you, with overdramatized puppy eyes boring into your soul, is not that comforting.

“Come onnn, Y/N,” Jisung sing-songs, poking at your cheek. “Talk to me.”

Your frown etches further downward. You don’t do anything to move his hand, though, and opt to just turn your head back to the Peanuts characters.

“Cheer up, sugarplum.” Jisung now squishes your cheeks in one hand like a doting mother. It earns a whine from you, and you finally slap his hand away.

“Jisung.” You sigh, keeping your eyes on the TV. “I’m really, really not in the mood for celebrating Christmas this year.”

It makes your heart ache to actually admit it out loud, but you’d be lying if you tried to say otherwise. Christmas will always be your favorite time of the year, but all the memories you carry with it hurt too much now. It’s all a gaping hole in your stomach that you can’t patch.

“I know, I know,” Jisung says simply, but a heart-shaped smile slowly forms as he speaks. You blink as you stare blankly at him—you don’t like that sparkle in his eye.

That suspicious grin only widens as he utters his next words.

“That’s why we’re hosting a Christmas party next week.”

Your heart stops for a second, and you stare at Jisung with wide eyes.

“We?!”

You’re sure Jisung senses the aggravation in your voice. You already, and very blatantly, you may add, have made it clear that all you want for Christmas this year is to wallow in your blanket burrito and watch whatever cheesy film Hallmark was putting out.

But of course, Jisung won’t let that happen. You know he means well, but you still wonder for a second why you agreed to move in with him once he graduated and came back home from college.

“You know this is my apartment, too, right?” you add.

“I know, but just trust me!” He beams, and it only makes you scowl more. “Oh, wait…”

His phone flashes on, a notification popping up on his lockscreen, and whatever it is seems to elate his already excessively cheerful mood. You peer over his shoulder with curious eyes as his thumbs fly across the keyboard, but Jisung places a palm to your forehead and pushes your head away before you can get a glimpse.

“Nuh uh, that’s private!” He tuts, and you frown at him again. As he slides his phone back in his pocket, the cheesy smile returns to his face. Once again, you’re not a fan.

“I need you to trust me, okay?” he says. “It’ll be fun! It’s just gonna be you, me, and our closest friends. Promise.”

You’re still not super on board with the idea. Even a small hangout seems too much for you right now, and you can practically feel the flashbacks from the last few years haunting your mind as you think.

“I… I don’t know, Jisung.”

“If I give you hot chocolate right now, would that influence your decision?”

You watch as Jisung turns around, whipping out two to-go cups from right next to him. A small smile makes its way to your face as he hands you one.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, taking a sip of the warm drink.

The gesture is surprisingly enough to make you say ‘yes’ a few harrowing (for Jisung) hours later, and that’s how you find yourself at your and Jisung’s “Christmas Eve Eve Spectacular”. Why Christmas Eve Eve? Who knows, but you did hear Jisung mumble something about being able to go to your neighborhood party in peace. Weird, especially when he seems to know that it’s on Christmas Eve this year.

Regardless, you think you did a good job of decorating the apartment for the occasion. Besides the small Christmas tree in the living room themed red and gold, you and Jisung had wrapped matching garlands above the curtains and hung wreaths on your bedroom doors. Your couch was adorned with throw pillows you had gotten on sale a week ago, and, because you didn’t have a fireplace, you opted to hang the stockings right above the TV instead. It’s very homey, yet screams young and broke at the same time.

The entertainment is even better. Something about Frosty The Snowman playing on the TV while a bunch of grown men yell at each other playing Twister just feels very college Friendsmas-esque to you. The best part? You’re in charge of the spinner. You can get your daily dose of Christmas cartoons without being trapped under a bunch of loud, sweaty guys.

“You’re cheating!” Hyunjin accuses Felix, slapping his hand from the yellow dot.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know what yellow means!” Felix yells back. He slams his hip into Hyunjin’s side and makes him topple over.

The taller boy gasps dramatically, pointing at Felix as he lies on the floor. “Now you really cheated, asshole!”

You snicker and shake your head at the boys’ shenanigans. You’ve nearly forgotten about the sour mood you were in just days ago; maybe giving in to Jisung’s incessant begging was the right decision.

Speaking of Jisung, he doesn’t seem too into the Twister game, and he’s usually one of the most competitive of the bunch. He was the first one out this round, claiming he “accidentally stumbled” on Seungmin’s hand as he “reached for the wrong dot”very early in the game. Weird.

From the corner of your eye, you can see him fervently checking his phone instead of watching the game, and sometimes, you’d catch a smug smile painting his face briefly before he quickly snaps back to a neutral facade. You’re tempted to snatch the boy’s phone from his hands and read whatever the hell is making him smirk so much.

After a moment, you focus back on the game. Seungmin and Felix are the only two left. Both are at the brink of collapsing, their entangled arms wobbling under them, and you’re placing bets with Hyunjin on who will fall first.

Felix’s arms give out first, after attempting to contort around himself and Seungmin as he stretches for a red dot. He groans out in pain, and you unceremoniously shove five dollars into Hyunjin’s hands as he revels in his victory.

“Thanks for the early present, Y/N,” he says, smiling cheesily.

You make a face akin to a grimace and roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I want a rematch!” Felix’s voice audibly cracks as he whines, lying in a starfish position on the floor.

“Why did you try to go under and not over me?!” Seungmin remarks with an incredulous stare.

Hyunjin snickers. “That’s what she said.”

You smack him on the chest as the other boys groan. “Oh shut up, Hyunjin!” You hiss, shaking your head at the very mature joke. “We can do a rematch, though, but it’s up to you two,” you add, pointing two fingers at Felix and Seungmin.

Before you bend down to fix the bunched-up Twister mat, you turn to Hyunjin one more time. “And no more dirty jokes!”

The doorbell rings through the small apartment, making a look of puzzlement cross your face. You know you aren’t expecting anyone besides the boys that are already here, so you look to Jisung to see if he is.

“Did you order takeout, Ji?”

Jisung shakes his head at you, but a small smile graces his lips. “Nope.”

You blink. “…Did you order a package?”

He chuckles lightly. “One could say that.”

The growing gleam in his eye makes you furrow your brow more. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His small smile morphs into a Cheshire-like grin.

“Why don’t you get the door and find out?”

You stare at him with a twisted face as you slowly get up. You really, really don’t like that sparkle in his eye.

Your stomach jumps with uneasiness as you make your way to the door. Part of it was due to Jisung’s odd phrasing, but regardless, you’re almost terrified to find out what lies on the other side. You just cross your fingers and hope it’s a terrible gift at best that you can pretend to like.

Your hand shakes as you slowly twist the top lock open, then the bottom. Then you pull the door open, and you feel your heart rattle in your chest at the sight.

“…Jeongin?”

You feel like you’re dreaming as you stare at the boy in front of you. Jeongin has a comfy, dark purple sweater over a white hoodie—an actually decent shade of purple that’s pleasing to the eye. He runs a hand through his messy black hair as he smiles at you, letting out a deep but nervous chuckle when he realizes he’s just fluffed his hair up more. He’s grown it out since you last saw him, and his bangs perfectly frame his face, some strands falling in front of his eyes.

You feel the breath sucked out of your lungs. Not because he looks good (but you’re not denying that), or because you pick up a hint of sandalwood and amber lingering from him that nearly makes you dizzy—but because you feel all the memories from over the years flood in all at once. First come the good memories, and there’s tons of them. The several times you played hooky with him, the night he took you to see the glittering lights… the day you first met. It all brings a warm feeling to your chest, sending your heart fluttering as a light blush coats your cheeks.

But right after the good, you’re brought back down to earth with the bad. You’re fortunate that the bad is so little compared to the good, but the night before he left for college so suddenly is one you just can’t erase, no matter how hard you try. Memories of concerned glances and the surging feelings of regret and heartbreak make themselves known once again. Every moment of longing and the mixed feelings of wanting to reconnect with him, to be by his side again, causes your insides to twist in uncomfortable ways.

You can’t tell if you want to yell at him after leaving and not telling you himself, or if you want to run into his arms and never let him go.

Say something, Y/N, your mind screams at you as you remain frozen in place. But what are you supposed to say to someone so dear to your heart, that also happens to be the reason it’s ached for all these years?

You draw in another breath, and you stammer out the first thing that comes to mind.

“H-Hi.”

You mentally slap yourself. That’s all you have to say? You have been yearning for this moment for three years, and all you can come up with is ‘hi’?

Luckily, Jeongin seems to reciprocate, mumbling a “hey” back with an awkward wave, but you still want to kick yourself for your pitiful attempt at a greeting.

You turn around to see Jisung visibly deflate at the interaction. It’s clear now that he’s had this surprise planned for a while, and all his offhand murmurs from the past week about ‘getting the band back together’ are starting to make much more sense.

He blinks, and in a moment’s notice, his frown is gone and he sweeps in to save the moment.

“Jeongin, come here, my honey sweet!”

You chuckle fondly as Jisung smothers Jeongin with bone-crushing hugs and excessive hair ruffles. It’s just like when you were all awkward tweens and teenagers in the school hallways, except Jisung wasn’t randomly popping up behind you two, and you were all considerably shorter. You forgot how much you missed that.

“We’re about to play another round of Twister,” Jisung chirps after a minute, his arms still securely around the younger. “But I think Hyunjin, Felix, and Seungmin all want to go against each other, so you can go next round.”

Hyunjin cocks a brow. “No, they just said everyone can joi—”

“No they didn’t, Hyunjin,” Jisung bites back through gritted teeth, and sends the blond a look that makes him cower back to the living room.

Once Hyunjin leaves the room, Jisung turns to a confused Jeongin. “Y/N’s spinning. You can keep her company, maybe catch up a bit while you’re at it?” he suggests.

Jeongin smiles lightly, but he’s shoved into the living room with you in tow before he can verbally respond.

You’re both unceremoniously pushed into your tacky Christmas pillows, and Jisung hands you the spinner. He even does the first spin for you, and sends you a wink as he moves to sit by the window.

You just blink, waiting for the arrow to come to a full stop. “Seungmin, left foot on blue,” you call when it does.

As Seungmin is stepping onto the end blue circle, you spin the spinner again, nibbling on your lip anxiously as you feel Jeongin’s body heat radiating onto you. It makes you want to squirm, and you try your best to keep your eyes on the spinner.

“Felix, left hand, red.”

Felix mumbles to himself, but you’re not sure what as you’re not really listening. Once he settles on a dot, you flick the spinner again.

Jeongin clears his throat and fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “How have you been?” He attempts—keyword: attempts—to ask casually.

You’re so focused on watching the spinner, all you do is hum in response. When the spinner slows and stops, you clear your own throat. “Jisung, right foot, green,” you call out, “and… alright,” you mumble afterward. “I’ve been alright, you?”

He watches you as you flick the plastic arrow again. “I’ve… I’ve been okay…”He trails off like he wants to say more, but he remains quiet.

“Hyunjin, left hand, yellow.”

You’re not sure how long you guys sit there silently for, but your insides feel like they’re trying to claw their way out of you. Maybe ten minutes of silence feels like ten hours, and you desperately pray for the game to end so you could do literally anything else.

If only your thirteen-year-old self could see you now. Maybe you were too dramatic that Christmas, because you are sure this just took the throne as The Most Awkward Conversation Of Your Life™.

Out of nowhere, a loud gasp booms over Michael Bublé’s “Have A Holly Jolly Christmas”, the boys’ shouting, and whatever cartoon autoplayed after Frosty ended. Everyone’s heads snap to Jisung, who stares with sparkly eyes at the world outside.

You lean past Jeongin to get a glance. Light gray skies, slow-floating crystals, fluffy white blanket… it makes you break out into a grin. So does Jeongin, who smiles fondly as he pats your knee. The move makes you want to do backflips.

“Oh my god, snow!” Jisung cheers, already scurrying for the door. He mutters something about it being ‘just what he needed’ as he zips past you and Jeongin, but quickly turns on his heel when he sees neither of you move a muscle.

“Um, hello?!” the older boy chastises you and Jeongin, tossing you your coats and hitting you both in the face. “It’s the first snow of winter, what are you doing?!” He claps his hands for emphasis, but not before he shoves a pair of mittens into both your hands. “You need. To see. The snow.”

You exchange a knowing look with Jeongin but follow Jisung’s hasty instructions. Neither of you seem to move as fast as he wants you to be, so he does the job for you by hurriedly, but carefully, pushing you both down the stairs and to the lobby.

Jeongin presses his lips into a thin line, stepping closer to you as Jisung dashes back up the stairs to get the rest of the group. You smile back politely, but say nothing else.

You turn back to the stairs at the sound of Jisung’s voice bouncing off the walls. Whether he knows you two could hear him or not, you don’t think he cares, considering that he’s already yelling at the top of his lungs.

“SEE!” He motions around himself widely. “I TOLD YOU IT’D SNOW WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER!” A dopey smile covers his face as he holds his hands up to his chest, like he himself had just miraculously fallen in love. “It’s like magic!”

Judging from a quick glance behind you as you make your way toward the front doors, Hyunjin seems to fully indulge in Jisung’s antics, smiling brightly and hopping up and down as they bound down the stairs. Felix and Seungmin, who trail behind them, don’t seem nearly as amused.

“Jisung, bro,” Seungmin blinks, “It’s literally just the weather.”

Jisung’s smile drops instantly and he glares at the brunet boy, pointing a finger at him. “No! You had to be there for everything, trust me! I’M NOT CRAZY, WATCH!”

The listless look doesn’t drop from Seungmin’s face as he follows his overly chipper friend downstairs.

Jeongin snorts, lightly bumping his shoulder into your own. “He’s still on that?”

You open the front door for the both of you, rolling your eyes. “He never stopped, seriously.”

The cold air hits you instantly and you’re glad Jisung gave you your gloves to wear. You scan the area around you and the only other people in sight are a group of children across the street. The ever-growing white blanket in front of your apartment complex is all yours and Jeongin’s—anything’s free game.

Unfortunately, the delicate, white crystals fluttering down around you do nothing to help the tension looming between you both. It followed you out of your apartment like a dark storm cloud, and now it’s raining on your snowy parade. You hate it. But you don’t know how to get rid of it.

“Sooo…” you start, and just as quickly trail off. “What now?”

Jeongin just shrugs, watching a snowflake fall to the ground.

You sigh, mostly to yourself. Looks like you’re going to have to take the lead. You begin to roll up a ball of snow, making it bigger and bigger in hopes of building a snowman.

The bigger and more round your snowman base gets, the more that the little rain cloud between you and Jeongin seems to shrink away. Even though you haven’t said a word to the boy and nearly forgotten he was even there, something about playing in the snow together in silence is… healing. It’s therapeutic in its own right, the soft crystals somehow bringing a feeling of warmth to your chest as you bring out your inner child.

Just as you’re finished with the top body part and you’re lifting it up ready to place, a sudden impact of cold, wet snow hits the back of your neck and begins to slither down your back. This results in you dropping the snowman’s body and you gasp as it breaks apart into heaps on the floor.

Turning around, you pout as Jeongin looks at you with a cheeky smile playing at his lips. He looks away, whistling innocently and shoving his hands into his coat pockets. Your glare hardens and you quickly pick up the precious bit of used snow, squishing it into a ball before lobbing it in Jeongin’s direction, just barely missing his left arm.

“You need to work on your aim,” Jeongin remarks cockily, and you scrabble another snowball in your hands.

Throwing the haphazardly-made snowball in his direction, his laughter fills your ears and makes the butterflies in your stomach fly. You duck as his own snowball is about to hit you, and it just skims the back of your head.

“This is war!” You glare at your best friend. “You made me mess up my snowman!”

“Why focus on your snowman when you can focus on me?” Jeongin laughs, making your heart speed up again.

You hide behind the pitiful remains of your snowman and hold your hands to your cheeks. Sure, you were in a war, but you couldn’t let him see that his words affected you. You could have blamed it on the cold, but would Jeongin really believe it?

“You can’t hide forever,” Jeongin sings, his voice getting nearer and nearer.

Keeping a watchful eye over your shoulder, you attempt to make a bunch of snowballs as you try to will the color on your cheeks away. You try to calm your breathing, suppressing any giggles that threaten to come out as you grow your small pile of ammo.

As you scramble to prepare for whenever Jeongin plans to pelt you with snowballs, all your worries seem to melt away. Adrenaline rushes through your body as you hear Jeongin’s boots crunch in the snow, but you also feel a wave of calm wash over you. It’s just you, Jeongin, and the white blanket of snow surrounding you two. Just like when you were little.

You missed this.

A small giggle escapes your lips as you peer over your shoulder one more time. Jeongin doesn’t seem to be sneaking up on you—in fact, he’s nowhere in sight. You turn around and let out a sigh of relief. You’re safe.

Until you notice Jeongin towering over you, smirking deviously.

“Did you miss me?”

You let out a squeal, backing yourself against your crumbling snowman as you frantically chuck snowballs his way. He seems to be unfazed by it, only chuckling as the snowballs split into pieces as they hit his chest, and he steps closer to you.

Soon, you’re resorting to flinging pathetic scoops of snow at him as you try to scoot back. You’re in a fit of giggles as he inches closer, your heartbeat quickening his pace as you chuck one more blob of snow to hopefully deter him.

It strikes him square in the face.

Your jaw drops in surprise, and you can only watch as Jeongin wordlessly wipes the snow off his face. You search his face for any sign of hurt, fearing you might’ve gone too far, but you only find a mischievous glint in his eye.

Oh no.

You gulp as he drops to his knees and continues to close the gap between you, his smug smile growing wider. A nervous giggle escapes your lips as you watch for his next move, and you grab another handful of snow in your mitt to get ready to fight back—then you feel his fingers at your sides.

“Jeongin, stopppp~!”

You’re unable to control your laughter as Jeongin mercilessly tickles you. Any attempts at pushing him away are quickly proved fruitless by a shove of his hand, and you’re left thrashing around helplessly as he continues to torture you.

You’ve practically been thrown into the pillow of former-snowman behind you by the time Jeongin sits back and lets you go. Gasping for air, you let out another giggle as you watch him bend over, hands on the snow by either of your sides as he catches his breath as well.

The air around you falls silent as you stare up at him. You search his face again, your chest heaving up and down. You can’t find any more signs of incoming mischief, but you find his soft gaze staring back at you, and the rosy color pricking at his cheeks. You assume his blush is from the cold, but you know yours is from otherwise.

Another few seconds pass and Jeongin still hasn’t tormented you. A smirk slowly spreads across your face as an idea sparks on your mind.

Before you can even think it through, you spring up, arms outstretched as you pounce in his direction. He has no time to react before you tackle him, fingers going to his sides as you tickle him and get your sweet revenge.

“You asshole!” You shriek in between giggles.

It’s now Jeongin’s turn to try to shove your hands away as he scoots back, an endless stream of giggles escaping his mouth as well. Hearing his laughter ring in your ears makes you laugh more in turn as you shuffle after him. You both grapple around for a moment and eventually land on the ground, you on top of Jeongin, your legs all tangled together.

You tickle him for another second when you look up and pause. It’s then that you realize just how close your faces are to each other, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe. Everything goes still for a moment as you stare at him with wide eyes. One more movement and you’d be kissing him.

You pray that Jeongin doesn’t feel your heart hammering against your ribcage as you’re pressed up against him, but you can’t help but wonder if his heart is doing backflips in his own chest.

Unable to take the thoughts swirling inside your head anymore, you roll off of him and onto your back, looking up at the sky. Tiny snowflakes fall around you in a light, gentle flow, but a steady one—it almost feels reassuring. It’s like the universe is sending you a message, in its own special way, that everything will be alright.

You take a deep breath and look over at the boy next to you. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he blinks, wide eyes gazing up at the snow. A couple snowflakes seem to fall on his face and he scrunches up his nose as he giggles. A fond smile decorates your lips as you watch him, and you feel your heart quicken its pace once again.

Another moment passes and Jeongin turns his head to you. “What's wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

You shake your head and start moving to stand up. “It’s nothing, just…” you trail off, unsure what to say next. You hold out a hand to help him to his feet as well.

The two of you stand in silence for some time. You take a small step closer to him, and you can’t deny the way your heart swells in your chest as you take in the scene around you. The snow seems to dance around you two, swirling around gently as if the crystals are casting a gentle spotlight on you both. When your eyes land back on Jeongin, you note the snowflakes that dot his chestnut hair and perfectly complement his slightly messy curls. It’s adorably awkward, but he looks cozy, like… almost like home.

He turns his head to look at you and gives you a smile that sends warmth spreading through your whole body. There’s a gentleness to his gaze as his eyes meet yours, and the way he reaches over to move a strand of hair away from your face nearly makes you melt. A faint blush dusts his cheeks as he steps closer to you, closing the distance between you two, and you hope he doesn’t notice your already rosy cheeks glow a deeper red.

“Stay for Christmas?” he whispers.

There’s no helping the grin that grows on your face at the familiar words.

“Just come here.”

You can hear the squeals of the children across the street (and Jisung from behind you), but you feel at peace as you lean up to wrap your arms around Jeongin’s neck. A small chuckle reverberates through you as you feel him snugly hug you back, and you tuck your head in his shoulder.

You still don’t believe the snow is the seasonal deity that Jisung swears by, but something about the way it gently cascades down feels like it’s wrapping you both in a warm blanket and reassuring you that you’re okay. That you’re home. As Jeongin gently rests his head against yours and sways the two of you back and forth, you realize that this was what you were missing the whole time; not only in your old neighborhood, but during the time Jeongin was away.

Turns out the magic you always felt during this time of year wasn’t just in the snow. It wasn’t just in the whimsicality of Christmas cartoons, or your utter fascination with the holiday lights, either. It’s the feeling of comfort that comes with it, the feeling of knowing that someone who cares about you will be there to do it all with you a thousand times over. That special feeling that only Jeongin has been able to give to you all these years, even if it’s awkward at times, even if you’ve consumed one too many cups of hot chocolate for his liking… the feeling of being home.

You realize that Jeongin is more than just your best friend and your longtime crush—he’s home. And if it takes a bit of snow to realize that, that’s magic enough for you.

24...

Christmas has changed a lot since the previous year with you and Jeongin officially being back at best friend status—not that he had ever left. But just knowing he’s finally home is enough to rekindle your affinity for the holidays that you’ve been lacking for the past few years. Now it’s finally here, and the fire inside you is burning brighter than ever.

With it being a newfound tradition in the Y/Nsung household—funny enough, you actually coined the name—your apartment this year is once again the main headquarters for all things Christmas festivities. And this time, it’s on Christmas Eve. You thought it’d be fitting, considering your shared history with Jeongin over the date. Like last year, you took care to decorate the apartment to a T, pretty garlands and shades of red and green glistening all over the living area.

The party had very much been a success, with only a few disagreements (read: screaming matches) between Hyunjin and Felix about who was actually better at the chosen game, and who was, in fact, cheating. You suspected both of them cheated at some point, but decided staying silent was probably the better option.

And after a hearty meal of Chinese take-out from the 24/7 open restaurant, the three boys, minus Jeongin, called it a night and headed out for the comforts of their warm beds. You could still hear Hyunjin and Felix arguing as they left, with a sulking Seungmin behind them, grumbling something about having to listen to them all the way back to their hotel.

You close the door behind them and turn to your best friend. He’s standing rather close to you, making your heart speed up slightly. The small smile that covers his face leaves you feeling comforted, loved.

It’s crazy how much can happen in a year. The awkwardness you feared would persist after being apart for three years had melted away after Jeongin (and Jisung) surprised you with his return, after that impromptu snowball fight that set your heart alight. You two spent the following few days doing some much-need catching up, and now, you’re closer than ever. It was like he never left home. Or, rather, like you were finally home.

“I thought you would have gone with them,” you mention, your own smile playing at your lips.

Jeongin shrugs, opening his arms out wide, indicating his need for a hug. “Just wanted to spend more time with you.” You giggle, shuffling into his arms. “Without all of the yelling,” he finishes his sentence as a mumble.

“Yeah,” you sigh into his chest. “This is much nicer.”

Maybe it’s weird to say that you feel something in the air shift. Or maybe it was the way Jeongin subtly changed his grip on you, but something seems different all of a sudden.

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out softer than you expected, but when Jeongin holds you tighter and just sighs, your suspicions become elevated.

He lets his arms fall from you and he slips one hand into your own, leading you back into your living room. An uncomfortable silence sifts between you two.

“Jeonginnie?” you finally say after another moment.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He frowns, pulling you down so you’re sitting next to him. “It’s serious.”

A frown of your own instantly takes its place on your face. Jeongin sits there, his gaze on your one hand in his lap, and he plays with your fingers in hopes of calming himself down.

“And I need to tell you because I don’t want what happened before to repeat itself.” Jeongin explains. “I don’t want to go however many years to go by again because I didn’t tell you myself.” He continues, now looking at you.

Eyebrows furrowed, you gaze at him. “Jeongin, what’s going on?”

“I… I got a job offer…”

You’re about to open your mouth and congratulate him, then he finishes his sentence, finally looking you in the eye.

“…but it’s two cities away.”

If Jeongin listened carefully enough, he could’ve heard your heart crack in your chest.

“Oh…”

He nods his head solemnly. “My parents are flying out with me tomorrow night to go check out apartments.” His gaze falls back to your hand that’s on his lap, and his voice grows softer as he continues to explain. “We’ll be back by New Year’s, but… once we settle on a place and sign the lease…”

“…You’ll be leaving again,” you quietly finish his sentence, your voice wavering at the end. He nods once more.

It’s like you were nineteen all over again, but this time, you had Jeongin in front of you—almost softening the blow. All the emotions you felt after he had left the first rush back to the surface all at once, and you nearly feel like you’re drowning.

But you stuff it all down. You shove it back in the crackling dam that is your heart, at least for the moment. You can let out your frustration with the world when Jeongin goes home. Not now.

Be strong, Y/N.

“We can still text,” you begin, your voice filled with hope—at least, you pray that’s what comes across. “And call and FaceTime.”

The sides of Jeongin’s lips turn up into a small smile. Slowly, he moves his hand so it’s wrapped in yours, entwining your fingers together and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“We will.” He looks up at you again. “I just wanted to be the one to tell you this time.”

You squeeze his hand back. Your heart races. “I appreciate that.”

A thick, heavy silence spreads across the room. You’re too focused on gazing into Jeongin’s eyes to care about the world outside of your little bubble with him. But your heart cries out, not wanting the moment to end. Not when this could be the last night you see Jeongin for a while.

You want to hold his hand and hold him in your arms and never let him go. But you know you can’t do that. Not when this job could be a big deal for him, not when it could change his whole life.

So you let the warmth from his hand seep into yours. You let your head fall onto his shoulder. You let the butterflies fly in all directions at the sight, and feeling, of his sweet gaze on you. The one you’ll miss so dearly when he’s gone.

The one you’ll cherish for as long as you can.

“YAHOOOO!!”

A loud yell echoes throughout the apartment, causing your stares to break and Jeongin to drop your hand. With the yell coming from the only other known person in the apartment, you silently think of the ways you’d hurt Jisung in his sleep tonight for ruining the moment.

Soon, a trail of slamming doors and footsteps are heard, growing in frequency and volume as they get closer and closer to the living room. Then the living room door swings open and slams against the wall, Jisung’s hand stopping it from bouncing back and hitting him in the face whilst he prances into the room with the largest gummy smile you've ever seen. His cheeks are all pink and he looks like he could burst into happy tears at any moment.

“Guess what, my babies!” he sings, maybe a little too lively, “Looks like your guardian angel came to the rescue, Jeongin’s not leaving tomorrow!”

Blinking, you sit there, your lips twisting into a confused grimace as he dramatically wipes the corners of his eyes with his sleeve. You want to wholeheartedly believe your fanatical roommate. You wish so desperately for this to just be some bad dream you’re about to wake up from. But the way your heart continues to squeeze in your chest, even as Jisung skipped into the room so cheerfully, tells you all of this is real. The idea that a last-minute Christmas miracle is about to turn things around sounds too good to be true.

You’re about to interject and beg Jisung to explain, but he beats you to it, sensing the skepticism on your and Jeongin’s faces. “Look outside!” He feverishly points to the window. “You’ll see what I mean!”

Lifting your head off Jeongin’s shoulder, you exchange confused looks with the younger boy as you both get on your feet. He leads the way to the window by your front door, blindly reaching behind him for your hand and connecting your fingers when he finds it. You notice Jisung wiggling his eyebrows at you and almost let go to make him stop, but Jeongin lightly squeezes your hand before your fingers can slip away.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you push the blinds to the side, and you hope Jeongin doesn’t glance your way and notice. Luckily, he’s too occupied with gaping at the scene outside. And so are you.

It is, in fact, snowing—and it’s snowing hard. Wind howls against your thin apartment walls as the icy flakes come pouring down, a thick, white fog blurring your view of the street below you.

“Wow…” you mumble to yourself. In the fifteen or so years since you’ve moved, you’ve never witnessed a snowfall this hard. Let alone on the first snow of winter.

“It’s snowing like this all over the country,” Jisung remarks, showing the two of you the weather report on his phone. Jeongin scrolls through the list with one finger and, to his horror, the city where his new job is located is there.

“You know what that means?” Jisung continues, a small smirk on his face. “No leaving, at least for a few days.”

You keep your gaze out the window, your spirits brightening at the news. As selfish as it was, you could barely control the surge of happiness bursting inside you at the thought of having Jeongin around for a little while longer.

Maybe a Christmas miracle is possible.

You completely miss Jeongin’s loved-up stare as you look back at him, a concerned frown on your face. “What about your flight tomorrow?”

He shrugs, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of your hand. “I’ll figure something out,” he mumbles.

He steps closer to you, and you swear you see sparkles in his eyes as he gazes into your own. You forget Jisung is there as the taller boy leans down until your noses are nearly touching. A small smile grazes his features as he whispers, a gentle but playful timbre to his voice:

“Stay for Christmas?”

“I– um– uh–” you sputter at the sudden close contact, your eyes widening in surprise. You take a second to breathe and recompose yourself before you try again, sheepishly gesturing to the window, “I don’t think you have a choice.”

You carefully watch Jeongin for his reaction. He seems to lean forward, inching his face even closer to yours, and you feel your breath get caught in your throat.

The boy squeezes your hand and leans his forehead against yours, a shameless grin on his face as he flashes you a wink.

“Fine by me.”

You pray that he can’t hear your heart pounding in your chest, or that he doesn’t mention how red your cheeks are. You note the pink tint dusting his cheeks as he steps back, in case he decides to tease you for the latter. Despite your embarrassment, the shy giggle that slips out his mouth still makes you smile.

Jisung suddenly breaks the moment with a dreamy sigh, a hand flying over his heart. “And it’s all thanks to snow!”

You roll your eyes dismissively. “How much longer are you going to keep on about this magic snow?” you ask, causing Jisung to snort.

“As long as I want, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”

You can practically hear the shit-eating grin on Jisung's face. You drop Jeongin’s hand as you snap your head to the older boy, throwing a scowl his way.

“‘Miss Tuxedo Effect?’” Jeongin questions, an eyebrow raised as he looks between the two of you.

If your cheeks weren’t already as red as a tomato, they surely are now. “Don’t ask,” you grumble, swiftly heading to the kitchen to try and evade his prying. To your disdain, he follows you like a lost puppy.

“What’s he talking about?” he asks again. When Jisung, who’s treading behind you two in amusement, goes to open his mouth, you glare him into silence.

“It’s nothing.”

That seems to shut your overly curious best friend up long enough for you to pour yourself a glass of milk. The less Jeongin knew about the tuxedo effect incident, the better. You don’t need two boys torturing you about it, especially when the first one still refuses to let it go after eight years.

You watch him in silence as your drink heats up in the microwave, his eyebrows knitted together as he tries to search your and Jisung’s faces for answers. You maintain a poker face, but of course Jisung revels in Jeongin’s nosiness.

“Jeongin, think about it,” he hums, casually taking a bite of one of Felix’s cookies. You resist the urge to slap it out of his hand.

“Don’t,” you glower at him.

“How many times has she seen guys in tuxedos?” Jisung continues, his cheeks casually puffed up with food.

“Depends,” Jeongin looks to his friend and shuffles closer to you, “are we counting movies?”

Jisung snorts, nearly spitting out a chunk of chewed-up cookie. “Don’t include movies!” He covers his mouth with one hand as he gulps the bite down. “You’ll never narrow it down if you do!”

Your jaw drops in offense as the boys fill the kitchen with giggles. “Hey!”

An embarrassed flush creeps onto your cheeks again and you turn to pull your mug out of the microwave. You take a sip of the warm milk as you stew quietly, waiting for their laughs to die down.

“Okay, okay, seriously,” Jisung pipes up after a moment, stifling another giggle. “If you just look at high school…” he glances at you, his mouth quivering into a teasing grin, “she’s only seen guys in tuxedos, like, three times.”

“It was more than three!” You exclaim defensively, placing your mug down before you list off… every single time you’ve seen a boy in a suit.

You can’t believe you’re having this conversation.

“There was junior prom,” you hold up a finger, “senior prom,” you hold up another finger. You hesitate, then add, “the one time I went to homecoming—”

“Hey, that homecoming one doesn’t count!” Jisung protests. “You volunteered for extra credit!”

You groan and throw your hands up in defeat. Okay, maybe it was only three times, but you’d rather do anything else than admit it..

“Then what else is there?!”

Jisung shoots you a challenging look, eyebrows raised as one corner of his mouth threatens to twitch into a smirk. Your exasperated look immediately drops. You know, Jisung knows… and a quick glance at Jeongin tells you he just figured it out.

“Don’t tell me it was the formal?” The taller boy watches you with wide eyes.

“Jeongin!” you whine.

He gasps, a hand slapping over his mouth as he leaps over to smother you.

“It was!”

His name escapes you once again as you use his shoulder as a way to try and shield yourself from the embarrassment—and him seeing the bright red tint currently burning your cheeks.

“You thought I was cute when I wore that oversized suit?” he chuckles, letting his arms go around you.

“Shit up,” you continue to whine.

Jeongin’s deep chuckle basically vibrates through you, it makes the butterflies in your stomach scatter. Your ear tingles when you feel his hot breath brush against it.

“If it's any consolation, you looked really good, too.”

You smack his chest and turn your head away from him in hopes of him not seeing your blush. It fails miserably.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing so hard,” Jeongin coos, using his free hand to try and get you to face him again. “Look how cute,” he hums.

With his fingers on your chin, you shut your eyes tightly. There was no way you could look him in the eye and have a rational thought. Not now, not when he was being so open and—dare you say it—flirty with you.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, your eyes still closed.

On the contrary, you don’t know how much more your heart can take. You don’t even have to open your eyes to know Jeongin is still smirking his ass off.

“You don’t mean that, right, Miss Tuxedo Effect?”

Your eyes snap open, your jaw tightening in an attempt to glare at him. He did not just go there. But at this point, with this new cocky attitude, why did it even surprise you he’d stoop so low?

“You—” Your mind lapses and you’re unable to finish your sentence.

Jeongin tilts his head slightly, his smile still crooked. “You?”

Maybe it’s by sheer luck on your part or utter stupidity on Jisung’s, but a small noise makes you both turn and look at the older boy, who has his phone held up at the two of you.

click.

He backs away slowly, retreating to the living room door. “You'll thank me for these later.”

Rolling your eyes, you stare at him. “Why? Because the magic snow told you so?”

Jisung gasps, pointing at you with a glare.

“It’s not magic snow, it’s fate and I’ve already proved it enough times!” He yaps on. Huffing, he crosses his arms over his chest and his eyes narrow at you. “By the way, Jeongin will have to sleep in your room.”

You freeze at his statement and feel all the color drain your face.

“Uh…” you gulp. “Why?”

“Well you see,” Jisung starts. His eyes flutter around the room, unable to stay on you. “The… the pull-out is broken!” He snaps his fingers before pointing at you. “Yeah, yeah, last time Hyunjin was here, he totally ripped it to shreds, sugarplum.”

You blink slowly. The last time Hyunjin was here was last month, and Jisung was using the pull-out last week just fine.

“It’s just so broken now,” the older boy continues on his tangent, making a tsk noise and shaking his head. “He said he’d replace it, but he hasn’t yet, so it looks like Jeongin is going to have to bunk with you.” Jisung tries to laugh as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Uh…” you repeat.

It’s not that you didn’t want to share your room, let alone your bed, with Jeongin. He’s been your best friend for fifteen years—if there’s any guy on the planet you are comfortable doing that with, it’s him. Not even Heeseung or Yeonjun reached that level with you.

But even though you and Jeongin are attached to the hip, you two were never this close. Especially not when your parents shut down every attempt to stay for Christmas growing up. Why didn’t they just let you two do it? Surely, if they did, this wouldn’t be making your palms sweat as much as they are right now.

That wasn’t the only issue now, though. Not when he could be moving away any day now, if it weren’t for the blizzard outside. Not when it took you this long to realize what you would give for him to stay.

Not stay for Christmas. Just stay.

“I can sleep on the normal couch,” Jeongin suggests, breaking your train of thought. Jisung feverishly shakes his head.

“No!” He yells, his eyes wide. “I mean, you can’t, it’s so uncomfortable, you’ll have a bad back. It’s better to share with Y/N!”

Jeongin’s cocky attitude seems to dissolve in seconds. His smirk melts into a small sheepish smile, the tips of his ears turn pink, and he can barely look you in the eye.

“Is that okay?” he asks in the smallest voice ever.

It’s now or never, Y/N.

“Sure,” you smile. “It’s fine.”

Jeongin shuffles out of the room, leaving you to glare daggers at the boy who’s gone back to nonchalantly snacking on Felix’s leftover desserts.

“You are so full of shit,” you grumble, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks again.

Jisung just gives you a tilted smile mid-munch.

“Would it help if I said the snow told me to do it?”

You slam your hand on the kitchen island, throwing your head back in despair and frustration. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“I didn’t, the snow did!” Jisung yells after you as you stomp out of the kitchen.

As Jeongin hogs the bathroom and gets ready for bed, you replay your words over and over in your head as you pace back and forth in your room, creating a small draft. ‘It’s fine’?! Are you crazy?! It’s not fine. It’s not fine at all.

Why did you agree to let Jeongin sleep just centimeters away from you? Is it too late to back out and hide in Jisung’s room for the night? If anything, Jisung deserved it for a multitude of reasons, the primary one being his ongoing snow escapades. You don’t know why you didn’t try fighting back on that earlier.

Running a hand through your hair, you heave out a sigh and flick the lights off. You pull your duvet up and shuffle under the covers, bunching the blanket around your chest and letting your arms rest on top of it. A strange feeling swirls in your stomach as you stare up the ceiling, and you truly think about what you just signed up for.

After fourteen years, you’re finally getting that Christmas sleepover you and Jeongin have been joking about since you were ten. Well… the one you’ve been joking about since you were ten. Jeongin started it, then attempted to forget it existed for a while, then he started joking along with you. However, at some point… it didn’t feel like you were joking anymore.

You don’t remember when, specifically—if there even was a specific moment. You just remember that at some point, despite years and years of endless teasing on your part, you genuinely wanted this sleepover. With all the roadblocks you two had endured during your childhood and teen years, though, you thought it’d never happen.

And now, here you are.

The soft click of the door opening causes you to look up. Light from the hallway floods into the room and Jeongin smiles warmly at you. His hair is fluffy and he still has a few drops of water on his forehead from washing his face. He smooths out his oversized black t-shirt a little as his eyes meet yours, then he looks down and dusts off his gray sweatpants. You can’t help but smile fondly at the sight.

His smile fades into something more timid as he closes the door behind him and shuffles over to the bed. Before climbing into the covers, he looks at you, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is this…” he hesitates, “Are you sure this is oka—”

You chuckle, gently cutting him off. “Just get in the bed, Jeongin.”

A bittersweet feeling cascades over you as he tucks himself under the covers. It’s really happening. Your first Christmas sleepover has finally officially begun, after fourteen years of waiting. Somewhere in the back of your mind, though, you’re plagued with a brutal reminder that this could also be your last Christmas together. Ever.

You feel Jeongin move around a bit, soon settling and facing you. You shift onto your side after a moment, smiling tightly at him before letting your gaze drift out your window. Snow continues to surge down, and the wind rattles against the glass. If it weren’t for the dim glow of the streetlight outside, you wouldn’t be able to see a thing.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Jeongin mumbles after a beat. You don’t need more light to know he has a cocky grin on his face.

“I’m not even looking at you, dummy,” you scoff, pointing past his ear and out the window.

He turns his head around, following your finger. Once he lands his eyes on the window, his jaw drops slightly and nods in understanding. “I didn’t think it would snow this hard.”

His voice is soft but gentle, and it makes your heart skip a beat. You force out a chuckle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Should’ve known Jisung would’ve gone mad.”

Jeongin snorts, “He’s long gone, you know this.” He turns around again, the corners of his lips lifting up slightly. “But… at least I get to stay for Christmas.”

You can't help but smile back. “After all these years,” you muse.

“Yeah…”

A beat of silence. “Is this what you imagined it would be?” You ask, your voice quieter.

Jeongin purses his lips together, looking down for a second. “When I was ten? No.”

You both chuckle.

“I thought we’d be knocked out on the couch after eating too many cookies,” Jeongin continues before adding as an afterthought, “Well, after you ate too many cookies.”

You gasp in fake offense, lightly swatting at his chest. “Hey, you were just as bad!”

He scoffs, and another chuckle slips out. It’s like music to your ears.

Then another beat of silence.

“Was this what you imagined it would be?” He repeats your question back to you.

Your eyes meet his as you shake your head. ”No.”

It wasn’t… at least, not until you got older, but he didn’t need to know that.

Feeling some of the tension melt away, you and Jeongin continue to lie down next to each other in a comfortable silence. You aren’t sure how quickly you became accustomed to feeling his body heat seeping into you. In so little time, this image of Jeongin lying next to you, you want it burned inside your mind. The image of his hair so fluffy, you want to reach out and run your hands through it. The silhouette of him under the covers so cozy, you want to throw yourself into his arms.

How it had been a measly fifteen minutes, but this scenario with him… of you two being together… you want it forever.

“Are you okay?” Jeongin’s voice breaks the silence, as well as your train of thought.

You let out a sigh. “I… I guess.”

You can’t help but feel like this is some cruel twist of fate. That maybe the snow isn’t magical or special, but rather cruel and cunning—teasing you by giving you what you’ve always wanted, your stay for Christmas, only to rip it away from you so ruthlessly in a few days.

All of the words you want to say, that you wish you could say, becomes a bitter pill in your mouth. It leads you to wonder if it was worth spitting it all out, or if you should swallow and shove it down instead. If anything you say in this moment, if you tore your chest open and bore your heart out for Jeongin to see… would it really change anything?

You already know the answer, but it doesn’t mean you can’t try.

“I…” you start. “I don’t want you to leave.”

While you were lost in thought, Jeongin had shifted himself so he was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He exhales and you can practically see his breath in the air.

“Honestly?” he sighs. “I don’t either.”

“Then…” you hesitate. “Then can’t you just stay…” your voice shakes. “…with me?”

It feels weird not asking that he stay for Christmas, but you have that covered right now. You know it won’t last forever if you’re not careful, though, so it’s pointless to try.

So it’s not stay for Christmas, for once in your life. Just stay.

He rolls over onto his side so he’s facing you and he places his hand ever so near yours. “I wish I could. but hey, we’ll work it out.” He smiles reassuringly. “Just like you said, we can text, we can FaceTime, we can visit…”

Pushing your lips into a thin line, you nod. “R-Right. Yeah.”

Gently, he grabs your hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “We'll make it work. We’re…” He pauses. You can’t pinpoint what in his eyes changes in the dark. “We’re best friends for a reason, remember?”

You sigh. “I… I guess.”

But was there a reason? Sure, you may have asked him if he wanted to be your friend when you first moved to the neighborhood, but you didn’t plan any of this. Nine-year-old you just needed a friend to ease your mother’s worries—you had no way to know what fate had in store for you two when you did get that friend.

Now Jeongin is way more than a friend to you. More than the awkward boy in an obnoxious purple sweater you met all those years ago. He's, to keep it short, home. And you don’t know if you can handle losing your way home a third time.

Maybe the reason was simply fate, because all of this—it just kind of happened. And now you’re stuck, unsure what to do next… or maybe you do.

You hesitate for one moment, then take a deep breath.

“But it— it’s more than that.”

You stare at your entwined hands, watching how Jeongin continues to caress the back of your hand with his thumb. Swallowing your nerves, you look up to catch his eyes.

Here goes nothing.

“Jeongin, I really don’t want this to mess up what we have, but I…” you pause. “I fell for you.”

You attempt to gauge his reaction. You can’t read the look in his eyes, but somehow, it urges you to keep going.

“I’m sorry this is so sudden,” you start again, your voice shaky, “it’s just— you’re such an important part of my life, you always have been.” You feel your eyes prick with tears. “And even when you were gone, I always found myself wanting to run back to you.”

You pause again, softly biting down on your lip as you struggle to swallow down your pounding heart. You take one more deep breath.

“It’s… it’s always been you, Jeongin.” Your voice cracks, a small whimper escapes your lips. Your eyes continue to well as the floodgates open in your heart, and you look down before you completely break. “I-I can’t lose you again.”

You attempt to blink your tears away, but a few manage to slide down your cheek, seeping into your pillow. Shaking your head, your lower lip quivers, and you choke out a sob.

“Y/N…”

Jeongin slips his hand out of yours and you try your best to calm your breathing. He slowly moves his hand up, gently brushing away a few stray hairs that stick to your face, and you look up at him through glassy eyes. Your vision blurs, but you sense a feeling of longing, an almost-bittersweet swirl of warmth and affection radiating from Jeongin as he gazes down at you.

As he moves to cup your cheek, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb, the sound of your pounding heart rings in your ears. The sensation seems to fade into the background when he begins to speak.

“I fell for you, too. I… I have been for years, actually.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words. He smiles tenderly at you as you sniffle, wiping away another tear.

“It’s always been you, too, Y/N, and I hate that it took so long to realize it,” he breathes out after another moment. "If anyone should be apologizing here, it’s me.”

“Jeongin…” you mumble, but he shakes his head firmly.

“I never should’ve left the first time without saying goodbye.” The boy sighs, remorse pooling in his eyes as they meet yours. “It— it hurt so much to think about, but leaving you like that hurt even more.” His gaze drifts down for a moment and he slips his free hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Smiling lightly, he looks back up at you, his regrets replaced with a newfound conviction. “I’m not letting that happen again.”

A new sensation overwhelms you: one of relief, of euphoria. It fills the empty gaps in your chest, and causes the butterflies in your stomach to take flight. It’s as if you had been stranded at sea for years and finally found land, as if you had one puzzle piece left before everything seamlessly clicked into place. For the first time in years, everything feels right. Jeongin’s gaze, so sugary sweet like honey, makes you crave more.

His smile widens, causing yours to do the same. “I guess we have one more reason we have to make this work, then, right?”

A small giggle escapes you so quickly that you can’t even catch it. Jeongin catches the few tears—tears of happiness this time–that slip from your eyes, before pulling you into his embrace, fully immersing you in his warmth. You hug him back tightly, tucking your head into his shoulder and never wanting to let go.

“I love you, Jeongin,” you whisper.

You feel Jeongin press a light kiss to the top of your head. When he pulls away, he reaches a hand up, gently cradling the back of your head as he brushes his nose against your hair.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

This image of you and Jeongin… all snuggled up, warm and safe in each other’s arms throughout the night... this feels right. This feels like home.

You’re home.

...to 25. (epilogue)

The bitter air churns around you as you step out of Jisung’s car, and you immediately regret not wearing a larger coat instead of just your cardigan. However, before you can pull it closer to you, you feel Jeongin slide his hand into yours, entwining your fingers together. Sighing contentedly, you lean into his shoulder and gaze up at him.

“You okay, there?” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “I know I look dashing, but still.”

You scoff lightly. “‘M just cold, Jeongin.”

Smiling, he turns his head to face you, his breath warm against your ear.

“Okay, but try not to fall too hard for me, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”

Rolling your eyes, you use your free hand to hit his chest. “Shut up.”

His chuckles are like heaven in your ears. You want to hear more of it, even if it’s at your own expense. And you knew he was never going to let you live “tuxedo effect” down. Just like Jisung and his “sugarplum” ordeal, this was just another nickname you’d have to put under your belt—not that you minded much, not when you got to hear Jeongin laugh in the way he does.

Your attention gets brought back to him once you feel him squeeze your hand lightly. Your eyes linger on him and shift to the subtle light shining from your front porch. You notice how stiff he’s gotten, wide eyes staring blankly at your house like a deer in headlights.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

He sighs and hesitantly nods. “Just… nervous.”

You smile. Following the events from last Christmas Eve, Jeongin moved into his new apartment close to his job at the end of January. By the beginning of summer, he and Jisung helped get you a job closer to him so you could move in with your now-boyfriend.

Despite having an extra month together after Christmas, neither of you exactly… broke it to your parents that you two got together. You don’t remember if it just slipped your minds or if you two wanted to surprise them, but either way, they’ll find out in just a few moments. Given your history with the Christmas party and Christmas as a whole, you both agreed there’s no better place to break the news.

Getting up onto your tippy-toes, you place the lightest kiss onto his cheek, but pull away far too quickly in Jeongin’s opinion. “It’ll be okay.” You squeeze his hand. “I’m right next to you.”

He glances at you, a smile playing at his lips. “Always?”

You hum, nodding. “Always.” Then you give him a quick once-over and huff, a grimace twisting your mouth. “But do you really need to wear that?”

Jeongin looks down at his outfit, and his smile slowly grows more bashful as he fixes the tie of his tuxedo. Meanwhile, you’re left to painstakingly replay the events from five minutes ago in your mind.

The scene itself mirrored the one from when you were sixteen: Jisung in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat, and Jeongin trying desperately hard to get changed in the backseat, Mariah Carey taunting him from the speakers. Every now and then, Jisung tried to push his luck by jolting the car forward.

It was all way too similar, except this time, there was no sneaking Jeongin out of the house. Also, there was really no need for an emergency tux this time around. Yet, somehow, Jisung still convinced him to put it on.

“I just want to make a good impression,” you hear Jeongin squeak out a moment later. You look back at him and he’s frantically smoothing out his suit jacket, and a light pink blush dusts his cheeks and the tips of his ears. You have to restrain yourself from smothering the boy with kisses at the sight.

“Babe, you already have a good impression,” you chuckle adoringly, “you grew up here, remember?”

Your boyfriend gazes at you with wide eyes, uncertainty glazing his features. You step closer to him, taking his hand in yours again.

“It’ll be okay,” you repeat, allowing Jeongin to lace your fingers together. “And Jisung did not need to bring the suit with us.”

“But it’s an emergency tux, Y/N,” Jeongin says. “You have to keep it around you in case you need it, it’s in the name!”

“This isn’t even a fancy emergency!”

“But Jisung said it’s a romantic one! That counts!”

You let out a deep sigh, but you can’t be too mad at Jisung for trying to help. “Fine, fine.” You wait a moment then wonder aloud, “Speaking of, when do you think Jisung will get back?”

Since Jisung still lives in town, he welcomed you both back to his apartment with open arms and, in true Jisung fashion, an excessive amount of babying. He had taken the liberty of not only driving two cities away to pick you two up (he claims he came for a job interview anyway—you don’t not believe him, but you think he also just missed you two), but also dropping you both off at your house before driving off to get coffee.

Jeongin shrugs. “Who knows? He does love his coffee.”

You chuckle fondly. “He’ll catch up later.”

Pulling Jeongin by the hand, you lead the way up the pavement and to the confines of your house.

Even though it hadn’t been long since you were last here, you missed it dearly. You also missed the way your house was now adorned with Christmas lights. Every year, your dad always seemed to outdo himself with putting up better and better lights. You are sure he had been planning it since last year, that maybe he had already started on next year’s lights, too.

When you walk through your front door, you’re met with the smell of cinnamon and sugar cookies. There’s light Christmas music in the air and everyone is scattered around, laughing, drinking, and having a merry time. Your mom and dad are nowhere to be seen—you assume they’re in the kitchen somewhere, checking on guests or snacks. You figure you’ll bump into them eventually.

You find countless familiar faces in the sea of people. You see old families that have lived in the neighborhood since before you moved here, families that you have come to view as part of your own. You spot the kids you grew up with; some who are freshly-turned teenagers, and others who have since grown up and started their own lives. You even see Yeonjun, sharing a drink with his girlfriend.

While it was awkward between you at first, you both came to terms with what you had and what you were. You two loved each other, but not in the way that the other wanted or needed. He was a memory, carved into you like stone, but a cherished one that you will hold deep in your heart.

Your eyes meet and you both smile instantly at the sight of each other. His eyes glance back at the boy beside you and you can see how he laughs, his smile growing wider. His eyes meet yours again, he nods his head and you nod yours.

There’s no need for spoken words. You’re both happy, and you’re both happy the other is happy. Everything you two went through, from your journeys together to your journeys apart, has led you to this moment.

Ultimate happiness.

Jeongin pulls your attention back to him, leading you through small groups of people, and you turn back one final time to send Yeonjun a smile. When you look back around to see where Jeongin is guiding you, you see his mom sitting at the dining table, munching away on some snacks on a paper plate.

She looks up with a bright smile; you’re sure it’s where Jeongin got his from. However, her smile soon melts into confusion at Jeongin’s peculiar outfit. Rising from her seat, she pulls her son into a hug.

“Hey, sweeties,” she hums, pulling away from Jeongin after a second, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she looks down at his ‘emergency tux’. “Why are you wearing a tux? It’s just the Christmas party.”

“I told you,” you mumble from beside him.

He huffs, pulling and lossing the tie around his neck. “I just… it’s dumb.”

“No, no,” you pout. “You look great, don’t worry about it.”

Chuckling, Jeongin runs a hand through his hair, his eyes landing on you as he smiles.

“Of course you’d say that, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter to yourself as Mrs. Yang giggles.

“Well, for whatever reason you’re wearing it,” Mrs. Yang pinches Jeongin’s cheek causing him to attempt to pull away. “You look very handsome, honey sweet.”

“T-Thanks, Mom.”

Pulling on Jeongin’s hand, you fish into your bag, pulling out a pair of black jeans and an almost-obnoxious shade of purple sweatshirt. Dubbing them an ‘emergency change of clothes’, you now know you were right to pack them.

“You packed spare clothes?” Jeongin asks as you shove them in his hands.

Humming, you nod your head. “Of course, I knew Jisung would try and fill your head with some foolish idea.”

“It wasn’t…” You cut him off with a look. He doesn't finish his sentence.

He puts the jeans over his arm, pulling the sweatshirt out to see. You almost fail to notice the way the tips of his ears, once again, turn pink as he smiles.

“I thought you hated this color,” he laughs.

Pushing him forward and in the direction of the stairs, you concede. “Eh, it grew on me. Now please change.”

Jeongin continues to laugh as he struggles against you. “I’m going, I’m going!”

When he comes down a mere five minutes later, the now-discarded tux in his hands, you can tell he’s far more comfortable than before. He leaves it on the couch and takes his place beside you once again, slipping his hand into yours. This time, you take the initiative to thread your fingers together.

A gasp leaves Mrs. Yang’s parted lips when she notes the way her son beams down at you. A warm glow seems to encircle him, and you can almost count the specks in his sparkly eyes when you look up. There’s nothing but affection swimming in his loved-up smile—just pure endearment for you.

“Did you two?” She watches you two with wide eyes.

You and Jeongin suddenly look away from each other. Bashfully, you let your gaze fall to the floor, and you feel a tinge of red tickle your ears, but you don’t bother to let his hand go.

He doesn’t, either. He just squeezes your hand lightly as he nods, letting out a shy giggle.

Mrs. Yang gasps again, her hands flying over her mouth. Like mother, like son.

“You did!”

Without warning, she springs up from her chair. “Oh, I have to go find your father, now!” she gushes, pulling Jeongin into a bone-crushing hug. When she lets go of your startled boyfriend, she turns to you, squeezing you tight. “And your parents, too!”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle as you hug her back. When you both part, Mrs. Yang turns on her heel and scurries to the kitchen.

Jeongin snaps his head towards you as his mother’s figure disappears into the crowd. His lips twitch up to an amused grin—it only grows wider when you match his expression.

You shake your head to yourself, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. You feel Jeongin’s hand snake around your back, and you let out an exasperated sigh as he pulls you into his own hug.

“Parents, am I right?” he comments. His other arm hooks snugly around your waist, bringing you in closer. You shake your head into the crook of his neck as your own arms go around the boy.

“If that’s how your mom reacts, imagine what mine’s gonna do,” you mumble into his skin.

For better or worse, you’re quickly proven right.

“Ohhh, look how cute!”

You know exactly what happens next without even moving your head. Your mother, amidst her endless gushing about how she’s been “waiting for this day for years!”, scrambles to pull her phone out of her pocket, making a beeline straight for the camera app. Her mouth is probably gaping up and down like a fish, and she’s most definitely shuffling around the crowded space for the best angle. If your and Jeongin’s fathers were dragged along, they do nothing to stop her (not that they could to begin with, but still).

You don’t need to look up to know, and you don’t want to. You’d much rather her not see how red your face is, anyway.

“Okay, don’t move!” your mother orders. “One, two…”

“Mom!” you whine, burrowing yourself further into Jeongin’s sweater.

As your mother fulfills her need for pictures, Jeongin’s giggles ring in your ears. You try to focus on that to will your embarrassment away.

“Are you done yet, Mom?” you speak after a moment. A pout forms on your lips when she tuts.

“Uh uh, I need more!”

“You don’t have enough yet?!”

“There’s never enough photos!” A hearty, teasing laugh leaves her throat, chiming over the music for a second. “You know this, sugarplum.”

“Wait, so that’s why Jisung calls you ‘sugarplum’?!” Jeongin questions. He almost pulls back to get a better look at you, but you grip onto him tighter before he has the chance.

“Yes, and that’s my sugarplum!” Another familiar voice cries out.

Stepping back from Jeongin, you turn to see Jisung standing there with a childish frown on his face. He holds a take-out cup in one hand, and lets go of a girl’s hand to point at Jeongin with the other.

Wait… who’s the girl? You’ll have to get back to that.

“You’re her boyfriend, call her ‘baby’ or ‘boo-boo’ or something,” he adds, exaggerating his pout. “I claimed ‘sugarplum’ years ago!”

You roll your eyes. Technically, your mother claimed it first, but you know she’ll let Jisung go.

“Please don’t call me ‘boo-boo’,” you say, blankly staring up at Jeongin. Instead of responding, he reaches a hand up to pinch your cheek.

“Aww, is someone blushing?” he coos.

You push his hand away with a whine, earning a giggle from him and both of your moms. “Not you, too!”

The girl next to Jisung leans over to him and whispers something in his ear. You aren’t sure what, but the boy responds to her with an “I told youuu,” a whimsical ring to his voice.

Jeongin glances at the girl, then at you, his face twisted in bewilderment. All you can respond with is a shrug.

“Ah,” Jisung pipes up, sensing your confusion, and he gestures to the brunette next to him. “This is Lia.”

She gives you all a small wave, quickly looking down and smoothing her maroon sweater with one hand. You all exchange greetings back, and Jisung continues, a sheepish smile on his face.

“We met during college, and, uh, I ran into her at the cafe just now.” The older boy scratches at the back of his neck, and a rosy glow rises to his cheeks. “She told me she just moved here, actually, and I figured I’d show her around… make her feel at home, you know?”

A warm smile paints your lips. You think of when you first moved here, how the community welcomed you and your family with open arms. Even if your grumpy nine-year-old self didn’t appreciate it, your twenty-five-year-old self couldn’t be more grateful. “You’re gonna love it here,” you say to Lia.

Lia smiles back, and she seems to relax at your words. “Thank you.”

“Oh, aaaand,” Jisung cuts in again after a moment. He tenderly takes Lia’s hand in his, sending her a bubbly, heart-eyed grin as he swings their hands between them.

“Do you really have to open with this?” Lia says softly.

“Yes, I do!” Jisung squeaks, his voice jumping higher than normal. “They’ll get it, trust me!”

He glances hopefully at you and Jeongin, his eyes wide and bright. The two of you exchange confused looks with each other. What could he be talking about?

A second later, it clicks. Why else would Jisung be hopping up and down so eagerly, about ready to jump out of his hoodie any minute now?

“Don’t tell me you met during—” you begin.

“During the first snow!” Jisung finishes your sentence in a singsong. He tapers off with a dreamy sigh, and his eyes seem to sparkle more when they land back on an embarrassed Lia.

“He just means the second time around,” she clarifies with an awkward cough. “The first time was during spring.”

Your first instinct is to roll your eyes at your friend’s ongoing infatuation with the snow, but a fond chuckle takes its place. You had stayed up many nights talking with Jisung when you lived with him, the two of you sprawled out like starfish on your kitchen floor as you shared thoughts about the future, the simultaneous excitement and uncertainty of it all. If there was one thing Jisung was firm on, it was his hope that he’d meet The One during the first snow of winter, that the twinkling little snowflakes would be his guiding star to his person.

“Love at first snow,” was what he called it, “…you know, like you and Jeongin.” As much as you found the phrase irritating at the time, you never bothered to correct him.

But of course, it’s one thing to have hopeless romantic fantasies, and another to have them come to life. It’s kind of endearing, maybe heartwarming in a weird little-sister-figure way, to observe Jisung’s increasingly lovestruck daze as he relives the recent memory—you can practically see the hearts dancing around his head. But that’s not the point right now.

So this is the girl Jisung always texted you about during college.

You recall countless conversations about how pretty and smart and sweet she was, and even more of him blowing up your phone at three in the morning for date ideas (“the more aesthetic, the better! :D”). Even though he successfully asked her out, he still never let it go that they never saw the first snow together before they broke up.

Despite her embarrassment, Lia seems to mirror Jisung’s loved-up smile. From what he told you, they parted ways on good terms—something about both of them graduating soon and having different mindsets, he said, but they both agreed to stay friends. But something tells you that, even after all this time, they’re still on the same page about the first snow… and maybe some other matters, too.

You can see it in their eyes: the feverish look that makes their irises shimmer as they gaze at each other, the almost-overwhelming amount of affection that swims in their pupils and makes the corners of their lips twist up. You recognize it all too well—it’s the exact same way you used to look at Jeongin. Every once in a while, you still catch yourself doing it.

It’s nothing but fate, at this point, when you notice faint white pellets of snow are still hitting the window in your peripheral. An overjoyed smile of your own quickly overtakes your features, and when you look up at Jeongin, it seems like he’s thinking the same thing as you.

With an infectious giggle, Jeongin grabs your hand, but you sharply turn to Jisung and Lia before he can pull you away. Your boyfriend's small whines fall on deaf ears, and he childishly tugs at your hand as you try to get the lovebirds’ attention.

“Hey, do you wanna go see the magic snow or not?” you call out, half-teasingly and half-genuinely.

In a snap, Jisung’s lovesick daze flips into a triumphant smile as he turns to you. “So you admit it’s magic?!”

You roll your eyes, giving Jeongin’s hand a quick squeeze to calm his impatience. “I needed to get your attention somehow,” you say, “but just this once, I’ll admit it.”

The way your friend seems to light up like a Christmas tree is enough to make you give in. You do owe him for his stunt last year, after all—you’re more than happy to let him have this one.

“Now, do you want to go see the snow or not?” you ask after another moment, a small smile etched on your lips.

“Of course I want to see the snow!” Jisung chirps.

As he looks to Lia for her response, his puppy-love daze making a return, you allow yourself to take in your surroundings. The warmth teeming around you from the Christmas party is one that never gets old, no matter how many times you come, and no matter how long you’re gone. It brings a wave of peace to your heart, even as a couple of screaming children run a lap around you and your friends.

Your chipper boyfriend begins to pull you to the front door with him, making you lose your step for a second, and you find yourself meeting Yeonjun’s eyes from across the house one more time. Before you lose sight of him, you nod to the window several feet away from him, sending him a wink to him before you turn around. Even if you weren’t meant to be his love at first snow, the least you can do is make sure he got his.

By the time you look away, Jeongin has already pulled you both to the front door, Jisung and Lia already dressed and waiting for you two. Hastily, he throws on his coat before he scrambles through the pile of shoes by the doormat to find his own pair.

You’re about to do the same, then you realize…

“Right, I forgot my—”

“Your jacket?” Jisung calls out. Without another word, he digs into his backpack and tosses you the coat you left behind at his apartment earlier. You slip it on with a relieved smile, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before getting your shoes on and swinging the door open for all four of you.

Soft, puffy snowflakes dot the ground around you as you begin your stroll down the sidewalk. You hear Jisung and Lia’s musings behind you, but they fade into a quiet buzz as all the memories from your childhood flash before your eyes. The houses you pass by are ones you used to see everyday on the way home from school, and the sidewalks are ones you used to run around on during the weekends. You never would’ve thought you’d be back now, reliving it all with the people you love most.

It gets even better, though, when Jeongin nudges your shoulder, and points to a grassy area coming up ahead. You follow his finger and gasp, immediately recognizing the spot.

Reaching for his hand, you break into a sprint and pull the boy with you to the neighborhood park, the two of you almost tripping due to the slippery snow. The park is almost the exact same as it was when you first moved. Some parts had been upgraded over time, whereas others still seemed heavily used and loved by the younger children around the neighborhood.

Your eyes glaze around the small park and you could almost see a vision of nine-year-old you, standing near your mother as she pushes you to speak to the other children—to make some new friends. You could practically see nine-year-old Jeongin hanging upside-down from the monkey bars, adorned in that now less-obnoxious purple sweater.

You wonder what nine-year-old you would think if she saw where you are now, with Jeongin’s hand wrapped tightly around your own. You wonder what she’d have to say about the way your cheeks tickled pink, not only from the cold, but also from the way Jeongin’s gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, and the way his lips tugged into a soft smile whenever you looked back at him.

Tugging lightly on Jeongin’s hand, you lead the both of you over towards the monkey bars, his whines falling on deaf ears as you drop his hand from your grasp to climb up the metal bars. Once you’re sat down in the most comfortable position you can, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine, you beckon Jeongin to join you.

“Sit with me.” You smile down at him, one hand keeping you steady as the other makes grabby hands in Jeongin’s direction.

Jeongin huffs. “But it’s so cold.”

However, his words fall short when he still begrudgingly makes the small climb up. He lets his legs dangle through the holes, his knees knocking against your own lightly.

A gust of cold air causes you to shiver and as a response, you pull your coat closer to you. This seems to make Jeongin chuckle fondly, and you feel his eyes linger on you for a second before he looks out at the horizon. The falling snowflakes glisten under the remnants of the sunlight, and the holiday lights emit a breathtaking glow. You’re both still not tall enough to see much above the houses in front of you, but that’s okay—you know what lies beyond it.

“You know, I never thought we’d be back here,” you mumble. A giggle escapes you as you watch the stars slowly make their appearance above you.

Jeongin has a giggle of his own as something on the monkey bars catches his eye. “I can’t believe it’s still here,” he continues to laugh, causing you to redirect your gaze.

“What do you mean?”

He runs his fingers lightly over the faded black ink scrawled across the top of the monkey bars.

Y/N and Jeongin, 2010.

“No way,” you gasp, trying your best to lean over to see it better without falling. “I thought they replaced the park equipment years ago.”

Looking up at you, Jeongin smiles. “Obviously not all of it.”

He fishes around in his pocket for a second and before you can question anything, he pulls out a black marker pen and unclips the lid.

“What are you–”

Your sentence goes unfinished, however, when he leans over and adds a small section under his own nine-year-old handwriting.

And forevermore.

Your heartstrings are played like a violin as you watch Jeongin cap the pen back up, a pleased smile etched on his lips. When he finally comes back to reality, noticing your gaze, he shrugs.

“What?” he says. “Had to add it and make it official.”

“We’ve been official for a year, I don’t think the monkey bars would mind.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes, a chuckle escaping him. “What if some kids read it? Surely, they’ll love to know the story has a happy ending?”

If you weren’t afraid of falling, you would have jumped on him, showering his face in the most kisses possible. However, for both his and your safety, you opt for words instead.

“I love you,” you breathe, beaming at him. You’ve never said anything more true in your life.

His smile mirrors your own. “I love you too.”

You look back at the sky as Jeongin shoves his pen and hands back in his pockets, the dopey grin on your face growing wider, if that was even possible. Another giggle escapes you when you feel a drop of snow hit your nose. This is everything to you—it’s ultimate happiness.

But there’s one thing missing.

“I can’t believe I forgot,” you say, your gaze falling back down.

Raising an eyebrow, he looks at you in curiosity. “Yeah?” he responds, and you stare back with a cheeky smile.

“Stay for Christmas?”

Jeongin shakes his head, but his giggles still fill your ears, sending your heart into shockwaves of emotions, like the ripples after a stone hitting the water. The tips of his ears as well as his cheeks glow pink under the streetlight that has just flicked on. You can’t tell if it’s from the cold or from you, but you wish for it to be the latter.

“You know you don’t have to say that anymore, right?” Jeongin asks, gazing at you with a look that makes it hard to catch a breath.

“I know,” you exhale, “but it’s basically tradition now, it’s a must.”

“Well, tradition or not…” Jeongin begins. He slips his hand from out of his pocket to grab and entwine your fingers with his own. His heat seeps into you as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. “…I’m here to stay.”

He uses his other hand to tap lightly on the recently-added handwriting, his words echoing around in your ears. “Forevermore.”

Your eyes are all soft and sparkly as you smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze before letting the air around you fall silent. A contented sigh escapes your parted lips, forming a faint puff in the cold air as you watch the fluffy, white crystals above you flutter down.

Jeongin started off as a mere stranger, nothing but the awkward boy in an ugly sweater. Sixteen years later, he’s sitting with you atop the same monkey bars upon which you two met as so much more. He’s your best friend, your childhood playmate, your built-in Mario Kart partner. He’s your teenage crush, your love at first snow, your stay for Christmas—and all that only you two know it entails.

Perhaps, most important of all, Jeongin is home. And as long as you have Jeongin, you’ll always know your way back.

141 notes · View notes

astralwaifu · 1 year

Note

Hi! Hi! Hi!!!

Remember me? It's the one who encouraged to do the genshin character compatibility trend i have been dying to do! Unfortunately, i couldn't find the person who i saw started this trend so here i am in your ask box doing this. So i guess you know how this thing works- like you send three characters to see your compatibility with, and then you send a little bit of info about yourself such as personality and hobbies. I love that trend so much and as much as i wanna stay sane, i wanna know if my favorites will actually match or vibe with me ehehehehe-

So anyways! Let's start!!!

Characters : Pantalone, Venti, and Diluc!!! My favorites!!!

Apperance (ft. Picrew) :

About me : So technically, i am currently a drained out student (and help me school starts soon), but i am studious and hardworking! My problem is, i cannot seem to focus on one topic at a time and i ended up forgetting things. I don't socialize much, yet i would always greet people with a smile. But i never had anyone else to share what i have on my mind (usually books and my own ideas) and i tend to overshare and sometimes change the topic that it gets all too confusing. I only have two hobbies, reading and listening to music. And i pretty much wanna stay indoors all the time and then be alone in a pretty, fairy-tale like place in nature sometimes. I am very much clingy, and somewhat get attached way too easily. And yes i do require headpats and cuddles because i never got any affection. And i get easily irritated and when i am pissed i get too far, sometimes. Yet i just want cuddles and affection because i am lonely, lol. Oh and i love stuffed animals and books and sweet-scented perfume as an addition. Also i have a fear of spiders, i pray at least someone can get rid of them for me. That is all ✨️✨️✨️

Author’s note: Heyya! Sorry it took a couple days, I got my nails done and can’t type as fast as before! We changed Pantalone with Welt from HSR, because for some unknown reason I can’t write him. Anywaaay, I hope you’ll enjoy this! Sending all my hugs to u. <3

Venti

I have a strong feeling that his outer persona is your inner one, so you sort of complete eachother in a way none of you really expected.

Although it would take a while to get used to his extrovert self, since you seem to be pretty much introvert, the moment you decide you are comfortable enough you’ll see a big change. Meaning - EXPECT UNENDING AFFECTION AND CUDDLES!!!

I swear Venti wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you - always needs to give you reassurance and to have you close to him. Would totally do the thing where he squeezes your hand three times to silently tell you he loves you.

Would show you the most beautiful views in Mondstadt, he knows every place worth seeing and knows which one will leave you absolutely breathless.

Whether you like it or not, he will sing to you all the time. You like a certain song? Expect to hear to it singed by Venti for the next two weeks, until you physically can’t listen to it anymore.

A small issue would be that he constantly need to be around people, to interact and be present, which you’ll find a little tiring. Loves to annoy you too so he could get a reaction out of you. Don’t worry tho, he will never cross your boundaries!

Overall, on a scale from one to ten, I’d give your compatibility an 8.5 .

Diluc

The moment I finished reading about you I immediately thought that Diluc is the one.

It’s just that the two of you are fairly similar, both in the way you are around others (although you are quite a pleasant presence, Diluc is just more grumpy) and in the way you share the same wish in your heart - to be loved by someone, held amd cherished despite your flaws.

And I can say that the two of you do a pretty good job at that. Main love language between you is physical touch, since both of you are touch starved. When you are around others PDA is kept to the minimum, but when the two of you are alone HE WILL BE ON YOU ALWAYS! Holding your hand absolutely everywhere you go in the Dawn Winery and around its domain, random back hugs and normal hugs, headpats whenever he sees you around the house.

Also kisses on the crown of your head and forehead (they are Diluc’s favourite form of intimacy), which make you feel so special and seen.

He will always find time for you despite his busy schedule. His favourite activity together is reading in silence next to eachother, shoulders touching, but each doinh his own thing. He is the type of person that would put your legs over his during this to help you sitt mor comfortable. You will absolutely fall asleep in his lap like that.

Carries you to bed when that happens - no one can change my mind !!!

The two of you strike me as that couple that doesn’t really fight and not because you ignore your problems. You really don’t have reasons to fight.

Did I mention you will never have to worry about bugs again? :)

He is THE MAN - 10/10 compatibility.

Welt

Loves to take care of you in any possible way he can. Mans just trying to make you feel as safe and as comfortable as he can. He loves you too much to have you feeling bad about yourself or lonely.

Indulges in all your little habits such as going rants whenever you find something you love. He’s listening to every word carefully, absorbing information. You will maybe think he doesn’t care, but in the next couple days you will find a lot of things related to your new book or idea in your room on the Astral Express.

He’s more mature and a big stand-offish, so expect cuddles only when you request them or really really need them. Doesn’t really initiate this kind of things. You will however have your hand held and head pat by him at all times.

Saved you more than once from Himeko’s bad tasting coffee.

His main love language would be quality time, you will find yourself sitting next to him anytime, anywhere, each doing his own thing.

Whenever the Astral Express stops on a new planet for a trailblazing expedition, he will take you on cute dates and a walk in the nature.

He gives me a 7 vibe. Maybe 7.5-8.

And little note to u : all of them would find you absolutely beautiful because, honestly, who wouldn’t?

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #venti #venti x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #welt yang #welt x reader

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lythea-creation · 7 months

Text

My Boyfriend's Sister - Layan x fem Faten reader (Part 2)

Part 1

warnings: family issues, drinking

word count: 1.565

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated. If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

@iluv-444 : Tumblr kinda deleted ur request for the second chapter and I only remembered bits of it. I hope u like it anyway. Feel free to make more requests.

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

Chapter 2

(f/n)'s PoV

Over the next weeks Layan and I spent as much time together as possible.

Luckily there were more projects connecting the classes. But we were not limited to time in class. I joined her and Rania in the breaks and Layan visited me at home from time to time telling our parents it was for school work.

It was annoying to hide our relationship, but it was worth it.

What was worrying me though was that Laith had not spoken a word with me since Layan had broken up with him and explained the situation.

He was usually at his bachelor pad. So it was not surprising that he had not visited since the confrontation with Layan.

But Laith and I had had a pretty good relationship and were usually talking over the phone at least twice a week. Now he was not calling back.

I was feeling guilty, but not guilty enough to break up with Layan. It would not change anything for the better anyway.

“Maybe you should just visit him”, Layan suggested when I told her how much the situation with my brother was bothering me.

“But what if it only makes everything worse? I mean … I'm the one to blame for this bad situation between us. Shouldn't I give him the time he needs and wait until he comes to me?”, I considered.

“It's not like we really know anything about proper sibling relationships”, Rania interjected. “But you have no idea how long he will take. Maybe he'll never make the first step, but is waiting for an apology.”

“Great point”, I noted with a sigh. “I guess I'll ask mom to drive me to his bachelor pad then.”

Mom was obviously surprised at my request.

“We got into an argument and he isn't answering my calls. I just want to apologize to him”, I explained honestly.

She nodded approvingly. “Then let's go”, she encouraged me and grabbed some of her paperwork.

The anxiety was creeping to the surface the longer we the ride took. Countless worst case scenarios were filling my mind, while I was trying to figure out what to say to him.

When we arrived I turned over to my mom who had already taken off her seat-belt to get out of the car. “Hey, mom. Do you mind waiting here? I think Laith and I can talk more openly when we're alone”, I suggested.

She sighed at my request. “Alright, but I want an update in twenty minutes”, she agreed and started skipping through the papers she had taken with her.

“Thanks, mom.”

Standing on my brothers porch, I was hesitating to ring. Would he even let me in? No way to find out if I did not try.

“(f/n). What are you doing here?”, Laith greeted me after I had gathered all my courage to ring.

“Can I come in, please? Mom is waiting in the car and I don't want her to listen in on us or something”, I considered.

He took a step aside, signaling me to get in.

After he had closed the door, I actually started the conversation: “You haven't answered any of my calls.”

“There's nothing to say really”, he brushed it off.

“It's because of Layan, isn't it?”, I reassured.

“What did you expect? That it doesn't matter? I really like her, (f/n)”, he exclaimed.

“I know. I'm sorry! I didn't mean for all of this to happen. It's not easy for me either”, I shot back.

“Oh, so you're the victim now? You know I would have never done anything like this to you. I wouldn't even have considered it”, he proposed.

“Yeah, because you're perfect”, I grumbled.

“What was that? Have you forgotten how much I supported you? No matter what”, he reminded me.

“How could I? You're making sure that I don't forget. Honestly it's kinda sad, you know? That I have to be grateful that you stopped mom from reading my diary. That I have to be grateful that you were nice to me, like a sibling is supposed to. That you protected me from your own friends who were bugging me every time they were over. Though that didn't stop you from inviting them. Have you ever considered what it's like? You left me behind without a second thought, just like dad. Mom only cares about my grades. Nobody in school wanted to be friends with me because I'm the principals daughter. They're all wary around me, stop talking whenever I'm near. Layan doesn't care. She loves me for who I am. Around her I don't have to hide and pretend for once. She makes me feel precious and like I'm good enough. I don't have to earn her love. And Rania, her best friend in case you don't know, treats me like one of them. You seriously want me to give it up? Layan made the decision to break up with you before I started dating her. So stop blaming me!”

“To you it's always black and white, isn't it? Of course I want you to be happy. You're my little sister and I love you. I never meant to leave you or anything. I just had to get out of that house and live my own life. You know how controlling mom is. And I know that you're calling me her golden boy. It's not fair that she's favoring me. But honestly that isn't something to be envious about. I just started creating my own life. And you ruined the best part of it. Maybe you didn't mean to, but you did by being the awesome person you are. So I can't face you right now. I'm sad … and angry and so much more. Just … give me more time”, he requested.

I nodded, not daring to take my eyes off the ground.

“Guess I'll go then. See you around”, I stated and left.

Layan's PoV

“Yeah, that's so cute. Oh, wait a second! (f/n) texted me to come outside? What?” I stared at my phone in disbelief.

“Do you think she's serious?”, Rania wondered on the other side of the line.

“I sure hope she's not, but I guess I'm gonna check it. Gonna call you back later”, I declared and hung up.

Secretly I walked over to the front door and silently opened it, making sure to take a key with me.

“Hey Layan”, my girlfriend greeted me with a big, goofy smile.

Fuck! I didn't know if I should be mad at her for showing up without a warning or if I should appreciate her presence as she was making me feel giddy.

“Hey (f/n). What are you doing here?”, I questioned.

Her smile immediately vanished. “Don't you wanna see me?”

“No, that's not it. I just … are you drunk?” I just recognized her slightly slurred voice, adding to her weird behavior.

“So what? Why does it matter? Didn't you say that I should do more things for myself?”, she shot back.

“That's not what I meant! This isn't like you. You aren't that irresponsible”, I pointed out.

“How do you know? It's not like you've known me for that long”, she remarked.

My heart ached at her words. “That doesn't mean I don't know you.”

“Well, I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to a club or something”, she enlightened me.

“(f/n), we can't. Hazem is gonna kill me if he finds out”, I considered.

“Fine, then I'll go on my own”, she decided.

I took a hold of her wrist. “Wait! Don't go!”

Suddenly I noticed the tears in her eyes. “(f/n), what's really going on?”

The first tear fell as she stayed silent.

“It's okay. You can tell me”, I assured her.

“I thought you liked sneaking out to go to parties”, she admitted. “And you told me that we couldn't hang out at your place and you couldn't come over tonight. I thought maybe you would sneak out to go to a place where nobody knows us. I just wanted to spend time with you. And I didn't have the courage to do it. So I secretly burrowed some of Laith's alcohol. I don't even know what I drank.”

I pulled her into my arms. “It's okay. I'm sorry. You can come over. I just didn't want you to because of my brothers … is that all though?”

Suddenly she began sobbing.

I held her until she had calmed down again.

“Mom scolded me for a B in my latest test. And Laith doesn't talk to me. I just feel like a total failure. You're literally the only good thing in my life right now and I can't fully enjoy being with you out of fear of being seen. I'm just so sick of feeling ashamed for being myself”, she confessed.

“Me too. But we shouldn't be. How about you stay here for the night to spend some time? So your mom won't find out about your drinking. We can't do anything because of my family, but they won't suspect anything if we sleep in the same bed.”

“Sounds great!”

#al rawabi school for girls #layan x fem reader #lgbtqia +#angst #romance #drama #female reader #x reader

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aris-ink · 1 year

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Heyyyy hope u’re doing fine 💜 just out of curiosity, is there a reason you don’t write for jimin ?

LISTEN 😭

I guess you're a newer follower baby? so I'm gonna repeat myself but, Jimin is the love of my life, the prince of my heart, and that is the highest honor, bc my heart has no kings, only queens dhdhdhd

I wrote three poly fics with him, but... the problem was that for a while, BECAUSE he's always been my angel, I had some trouble figuring out where to go with his character. I know it's two different things, but, idk, I hope that makes sense? I wasn't sure how to imagine him as a yandere, and what direction to take, especially since... I didn't really have many requests for him at the beginning, and the ones in my inbox, I had absolutely no inspiration for. so maybe that was the main issue.

then I got a different one and I had an idea right away. I wrote half of the fic, I LOVED it.... and... my phone broke 🥹 so I lost all my work. and I'm trying not to even think about it because I had over 40 notes in there with plans for my own book (or an attempt at it anyways) and there is a possibility the phone was lost in my recent move.

anyway, it broke and the fic was... it was perfect, I don't mean in the quality of writing but in how I felt about it, that was IT, and no matter how many times I tried I couldn't rewrite it the same way. I was really down about it but there's not much I can do.

and then most requests I got for Jimin were all the same, somnophilia, and I had difficulties coming up with something that would suit him + the things I was asked for. I got an idea a while ago, but all this nonsense happened on my blog and I didn't get to write it. that's how it went, basically. but I accepted I lost the other fic, so I will rewrite it as well as I can, and post it on the new blog. ❤️ and the new idea I had as well. 💕

love u ❤️

#asks #cuties

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sarcophagid · 1 year

Note

I don't watch jjba at all but I've seen some scraps of content bc I got bored and watched one video of some guy going on abt how funny valentine was a cool villain but anyways 47, 47, and 56 for the ask game

the guy was wrong funny valentine is NOT cool sorry i have to eradicate any connection to him bcz we have the same name

47. Moment you wish could have happened?

got me thinking abt part 7, i wish lucy steel killed those mfs really painful. i thought she would get a stand or just. anything that could give her a margin of security in her situation but no i guess the fuck not. it's another one of those characters whose role seems important but they get so little agency and say in the story. esp in the end, love train just transforms her into a silent immobile vessel for the corpse. but killing another-world diego by showing him his own severed head was really neat (but once again. it happens after the creepy shit alternate diego puts her through right before that scene good god araki would not leave her alone)

48. Moment you didn’t understand/were confused by?

part 2 had the most inconsistent moral message if there even was one, but of the parts i've finished, part 5 has the messiest plot so far. i like part 5 but i don't like it. the idea of giorno working his way up the ranks of the mafia is nice from afar but parts of it just really break down. esp with the ending, no matter how you slice it or who you were rooting for no one was really satisfied and it seemed like too much destruction was caused for a payoff of no significant improvements while being really contradictory in it's message. i'll rant abt VA separately tho lol

56. Any headcanons?

shocklingly not many rn...

you could use your stand for a lot of mundane things but one specific thing is that you could use it to do the back of your hair without a mirror or bothering someone else to do it. esp if you have smth like sex pistols, there's 12 extra hands right there. of course, mista is bald so this information is useless.

related note u can use spice girl to stress-toy-ify so many things now. the floor. appliances. conk crete. trish's room is full of warped doohickeys that resulted from times she's gotten antsy or bored.

i think diavolo likes jazz music. in his earlier childhood i think he listened to more orchestral and pure instrumental music in general given there were probably restrictions on what he could listen to.

^ doppio can play the piano.

#also hi socks :DD!!#ask #misc and non art tag #a-pair-of-socks #sorry i keep talking abt part 5 its one of my favorite parts (burden)#also sorry for complaining half the post again TOT

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shitty-mobile-game-reviews · 1 year

Text

super slime slimeinator

sorry, super slime simulator. (literally my attitude for the whole game lmao)

yeah, it's a slime game.

it has "slime touching" graphics.

it makes disgusting "slime" noises.

i've terrorized my friends with it.

i love this game, no matter how janky-2004-DS game it is.

the game opens with the worst sound to ever exist,

followed by teaching u how to make a slime, which is pretty simple. u just kinda... make a slime.

...like u choose what type u want to make (u start out with a couple of types, ex. "classic" slime which i personally believe is a government fallacy but u do u) and then u circle ur finger around a dish to make it. then, u choose a colour and mix it in. then u choose 1 or 2 types of decorations and their colours (if they have that option. some don't- lookin at you, "jelly cubes")

some exciting exhilarating gameplay (ignore the ads at the bottom idk why they're there they aint even personalized smh):

then u finish, name it an play with it if you're a psychopath. i prefer the elite route of making slimes and never fuckin touching them bc they're nasty as hell.

there's also a chest thing which is ridiculously easy to unlock and will give you new slime... things:

and for some reason, this game seemingly with no story to it, has SIDE QUESTS. Where we meet, for the second time since the tutorial, the "mascot" for this game: Lulu.

She is just a fuckin person. She's a human mascot who somehow got her little godfearing name on things like "lulu's slime quest" and other equally icky things like that. She also somehow has her own collection of slimes, with ones worse than anything my pathetic little hands could even fathom making.

Note: I have no idea who Noggi is.

and she forces you to make her slimes for her. exactly the way she wants it. or you lose.

there's also some weird games like Slime My Image where u glunk up one of ur photos (I glunked up miku teehee):

And also Slime Painter, where you can colour on a "slime" at will:

And additionally, the real man's gambling, the aptly named Guessing Game:

(i guessed correctly btw)

However, if u have had enough of those games, check out the tons of premade slimes that u can play with.

That is, if ur the kind of person who downloaded this game to...

erm...

to play with slimes.

o_O cringe if thats u

anyway, if u enjoy that, they made a fuckton of disgusting slimes that are strangely reminiscent of something i once knew and desperately want to forget all there for u to......... play with.

Either way, if ur the type of gamer who needs regular validation, there's a series of incredibly rigorous daily quests to complete, which will truly test ur grit and determination as a Super Slime Simulator Pro Gamer™

The quests will demand various things, but most prominently, the grindworthy adventures of:

opening the game (im shakin in my boots)

making a slime (consider my timbers positively shivered upon)

playing with said slime (ew)

playing a single level of Lulu's Slime Quest (crying shaking screaming)

and other such harrowing tasks.

Now that I've briefed u on the game, let's get into some fun little details!

u can't turn the sfx off.

there is no option to turn the sfx off

the sfx make me want to McPerish™

i wanted to listen to music while playing this game but you can't turn the sfx off

there are some "fun and interesting" slime types that nobody's ever made before and nobody ever wants to make! I won't spoil them for u, but u definitely will spoil!

the colour names are fun, flirty and sometimes Pukeworthy! (there's a colour called carmine! how wonderfully fucking disgusting!)

there's one colour that i'm not so sure about!

Also, if you want to SHARE a slime with someone, you can "gift" it to them (gee, thanks) and they recive a fun little gift box all customized by you. mery cihsmast.

SO NOW THAT YOU'RE REALLY HAVING FUN, WANNA HEAR ABOUT OUR OTHER GAMES?

REALLY?

NO?

YOU SURE?

HOW 'BOUT I GIVE YOU ADS EVERY 20 SECONDS, BUT ALL OF THE ADS ARE FOR DIFFERENT BUT NOT UNSIMILAR GAMES MADE BY OUR COMPANHY?

NOT INTERESTED?

GET SQUISHY MAGICked FUCK YOU

anyway, it's a fun game. 7/10 would squelch again.

That's all for Super Slime Simulator! It's not that bad but certainly quite jank. Loves ya :P

#fun #games #mobile games #online games #video games #weird games #slime game #slime #super slime simulator #an impressively crunk game for an impressively crunk person(?)#silly goofy games #silly goofy #fun game #funky game #funky #very strange game for a very strange little man (girl?)

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hinamie · 6 months

Note

hi hina! i hope you've been well 🩵 for the art asks: 5, 6, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 22, 23 🎨🖌️🖼️

Mariam !!! It's so good to hear from you I hope you've been well also <3 <3 <3 this will get long

5. Anything you haven’t drawn yet but want to?

oooooh I've had an idea in my head for an s/e piece inspired by visuals from the blood sweat and tears mv for like 5 years but no matter how hard I throw myself at it I can never get it to look right so i've just been waiting until i manage to catch lightning in a bottle i guess :< (((I also found a few notes in an old "to draw" folder from like 2 years ago that include but are not limited to: jjk band au with guitarist brothers yuuji+sukuna/bassist megu/drummer nobara; gojo in crocs. ))))

6. Which artists inspire you right now?

HHHHH its the same crowd as usual i am so hides face in hands bc they intimidate me /pos :'))))) vacuumchan, ohprcr, gloomyhome, trickywagon, meru90 to name a few ANYWAY RUNNING HIDING

15. Biggest artist pet peeve?

this is a tough one im such a hater and everything inconveniences me ,,, when the perfect csp brush costs money >:C,, when u cant find reference from this One Specific Angle >:C,, when u dont realize youve merged the wrong layer until you've been working for hours and all of a sudden your folders are out of order and its a mess >:C SPEAKING OF MERGING LAYERS hot take i think that they should invent a way to let u merge layer modes without converting them all to the same type. let me put my multiply with my glow dodge !!! cowards.

16. What’s the most daunting part of your process?

rendering :') so much of it is trusting the process and there are so many ugly phases that make u wonder if u were ever good at art to begin with

17. What inspires you?

hdsj i mean im a fanartist so i think it goes without saying that I'm mainly inspired by the content I like ,, but i also am very inspired by fashion !!!! saw a guy walking the other day with a hoodie that said CASH FOR SOULS | COLD HARD CASH | CA$H4SOULZ.com and i had to take a picture of it like a creep bc tht + Sukuna ??? hello??? anyway yea ive got a pinterest board dedicated to insp-y clothes and a notes folder dedicated to jotting down cute outfits I see in public

18. Do you have any larger projects you’d like to pursue?

I've always wanted to do speedpaints ! but even more than that I want to do something aNYTHING with my ocverse but alas...time.....planning....plot.. so in the meantime they simply live in my head bouncing around like globs of wax in a lava lamp

19. Favourite character(s) to draw?

megumi jjk gojo jjk sukuna/yuuji jjk kotori love live rina love live ichigo tokyo mew mew + shiro n eden from My Brain ,,, im crying the duality of my fav chars is either feral shounen twink or idol/magical girl and eden is both simultaneously actually

22. When is your prime time to work on your art?

usually mid to late afternoon but it depends on the season because it gets so HOT in my room in the warm months which I dread >:( How it works is if I start in mid-late afternoon then I'm able to hit my stride and draw basically through the entire evening (also because of the aforementioned Heat I vastly prefer drawing in fall/winter because that means I don't have to evacuate my room at 4pm sdfhdgshd)

23. Do you listen to music or watch shows while you work? If so, what’s your favourite?

I have to have music or something on while I'm drawing or the fans in my cintiq will drive me insane . Sometimes i listen to music that matches/drastically contrasts the piece I'm working on but most of the time I can't be bothered and just throw on my youtube mix which consists embarassingly of mainly vocaloid and utau ,, though sometimes if a piece is kicking my ass and I need to just hunker down and get shit done then I'll put the entire discography of an artist I like on shuffle (some favs include 1D/waterparks/former vandal/harumaki gohan) and for some reason the Predictability activates intense productivity mode?? I cant explain it gdsj its like I have music on that I like but it's not jumping around between artists so I don't get too distracted or excited whenever the song changes

#kikuism #thank u so much for sending !!!! ily i wish u good things always <3 #ask meme

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blooming-cecilia · 2 years

Text

special | venti/reader

what makes you, a mere mortal, special in the eyes of barbatos, the god of freedom and wind?

drabble, 100% pure fluff, gn reader (if i let a gendered pronoun slip, pls lmk)

if you know of lunasmr, this was written with her venti and that format in mind. (highly recommend you check out luna's audios if you haven't yet, especially if you're a venti liker! she characterizes all characters she does content for really well!)

likes and reblogs appreciated, enjoy! <3

you and venti lie in bed together one slow afternoon, just enjoying each other's presence. snuggling into each other's embrace, pressing kisses here and there, bathing in the serenity of your room when he starts telling you how much he appreciates you and the love you give him.

"......no one has ever loved me like this, as much as you do, and it feels... so nice. to be loved by you."

you lie next to him, smiling over his sweet words when the thought occurs to you, "wait... am i to take it that i'm your first lover too?"

"hm? yes, you are...?" he sees your eyebrows furrowing and a pout forming on your lips, "what's wrong, windblume?"

you turn to face him fully.

"as happy as i am to hear that i'm your first and only... it makes me a little sad, somehow. to think that no one has shown you the love that you rightfully deserve in all those years..."

"..."

"i like the idea of being special to you in this way but i think... i would have loved it more if there were people before me who appreciated you as much as i do. i think you deserve so much more than i am able to give and if it comes from others too, so be it. i just want you to be the happiest you could ever be."

he lies there silently, taking in your earnest gaze and your sincere words. he is once again stunned by how good you truly are. who else would wish for him to have had past lovers, just so he could have also been as happy as he is now in the many long years before he's met you?

"oh windblume... you're too good to me sometimes, you know that? seems i haven't made the mistake to wait for you to come after all."

he laughs softly at the confusion written all over your face.

"i may have fancied others before and have had others fancy me in return, but none have ever been fortunate enough to be in your position right now. my lover, the one who truly sees, accepts and loves all of me, the way i do for you.

and sure, i've met and befriended plenty outstanding individuals in my life, and i'm glad to have had the opportunity to see them bloom into such wonderful people.

but none of them were you."

ha takes your hand and places it on his chest, right over his heart. he rests his own hand on top of yours. the steady ba-bump of his heart quickly speeding up the longer you press your hand onto it.

"you're the only one that makes me feel this way, my dear. the only one i want to see lying next to me when i wake up in the mornings... the only one i want to hold in my arms as i fall asleep at night. the only one i want to spend the rest of my days with."

his free hand cups your cheek and strokes it, delighting in the way it heats up under his touch.

"such a beautiful heart and soul..." he giggles as he taps on your nose with his finger, "and a pretty face too!"

"i know that i can trust you completely. i'm yours. i love you, and only you. that is what makes you special, and the reason i'll choose no one else but you to be my lover."

#tulip writes #venti x reader #venti imagines #genshin imagines #venti x you #genshin x reader #me? posting yet another venti fic?? so soon??? who is she #i ought to start putting out more sudden writings instead of just letting them rot in dms and note apps honestly #im also now led to believe i can only write in one go or else i LOSE it and never write again #literally i just woke up an hour or so ago and spent like more than half an hour writing #anyway as u can guess by that note i got the idea while listening to luna's audios (AGAIN)#luna's venti supremacy

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unluckilyimnot · 2 years

Note

Helloo!! Could you possibly write a part 2 to your rindou angst marriage fanfic u wrote? You could write about slowburn,angst,fluff,however you want to continue with it! I just wanna hear more of your thoughts abt it cuz it's been my fave fic these days and i keep reading it every time i need some inspiration 👉👈

Hiiii I can absolutely do that (even if i took forever to do so) I'm really happy to see that you thought that much about it and hope it's not to late haha Thank you sm !

type: slow burn (ig), fluff

Words count: 4.7k || Pt.1 || Pt.3

note: I can’t count the number of mental breakdown I got bc of this. I never ever wrote slow burn and then suddenly I’m doing one with an awful base, great idea Mia. Anyway, here’s my first slow burn (if it can be considered as one), hope it’s not too bad for the time it took.

I would really appreciate feedback back for this one so feel free to comment or send a message, thank you !

Rindou was thinking a lot since the last time you two argued. It wasn't the first time for you to take care of him like this, but neither of you ever speak your heart like this and he has to admit that his mind didn't want to let it go. The way your hand was so gentle towards him, patting his cheek as if he was still a kid. It's been a long time since you did that and, this time, he could remember your touch on his skin without hating it. It's been what, one or two weeks now ? He couldn't understand why he wasn't getting over it yet. It was poisoning his brain. Overthinking the whole situation like he never did before. Was it because he was too angry to face it before ? Or just to try to know you ? This was messing with his mind and he doesn't like it at all. It never was important, you never were, so why now he was thinking about how dirty he did you ? That was pure nonsense. Just like you.

"Rindou are you listening?" Ran's voice rises and Rindou lifts his head. "Yes, I am," answers Rindou but his lost eyes show that, in fact, he wasn't at all. Shaking this whole situation out of his mind for the next few hours. He was worried that this would take too much space when he had to work but at the same time, he couldn't find a way to resolve it. So he'll ignore it til the end of the day or Ran would kill him if he has to call him out one more time.

Ran obviously noticed how his brother's behavior changed since that night but he just couldn't figure out what happened since Rindou doesn't talk to him about it. Which he finds weird in the first place because they usually talk about everything together. He was curious to know what was happening to his brother. As the two of them go on their meeting, someone suddenly comes inside after a firm knock. The two Haitani were sending daggers to them for this audacity but cut it out when they saw a pretty woman enter the room.

Leaving for work this afternoon, you noticed a pile of files on the kitchen's table as you passed by to take something to eat on the way. Seeing your last name on it, you assumed that it was Rindou’s files and that he forgot it this morning. You knew you didn’t have the right to take a look at all, it was confident stuff most of the time, so you simply grabbed it and decided to pass by the Bonten’s building before going to your own after putting some sweets in your bag. Driving to the place, it almost seems like a normal company you said to yourself as you stop in front of it. It must be insane for someone outside of this world you guess. But yes, for people like you, it has always been normal to carry top secret papers and a gun in your bag while playing innocent. Entering the building as if it was yours, you were surprised to see two guys coming to you and asking for your matter. You don't come around a lot but still, you weren't anybody either. But you can't know everyone, right ? So you let it go and smiled at them.

"I'm bringing papers to my husband, he forgot those this morning," you said with a little smile, trying to be nice as you showed them in your hands.

"I've never seen you around with anyone though..." Imply one of the men, making you quirk. Not coming around everyday doesn't mean that you're lying. You don't have to do so just because of your previous last name in fact. You never needed to be a Haitani to be respected. You sigh as they didn't let you pass even after reading the name on the files.

"Don't make me call him, he won't answer anyway," you explain. Rolling your eyes, you push them aside softly to go on anyway. One of them roughly catches your arm and tries to get you out. A fragile sigh leaves your lips, your cool was more than down and you didn't have the time for this bullshit. Being late is one of the things you hated the most in life and being taken for an idiot too. The thought of killing him right away crossed your mind and the gaze you sent to this poor man made shivers go down his spine in terror when he catches your eyes. "Don't touch me," you instructed, not feeling like playing the sweet wife anymore.

"Oh Miss Haitani, it's been a while since the last time you came," says a young lady passing by with a smile. Her voice calms you down immediately and the man lets you go for the sake of his dear life. She was new the last time you came and you guided her through the building because she couldn't find an office. She was such a kind memory to this place you don’t necessarily appreciate that she calms your nerves. At her words, the two men finally let you live and you go on to the elevator to find Rindou.

Clenching your jaw as the door closes, thinking that a simple lady working here has more value than your words drives you mad. You'll talk to him about it, if you can ever see him. Leaning on the wall as you were alone in the cage, you thought that maybe you wouldn't even have to see him today. Your strict expression falls for a second, replaced with a morose one. You hoped you could, you didn't see each other often after all, but you're always happy to speak with him. Even if it's fighting or just a hello, it warms up your heart. He was right, you're stupid to love him, but hope make you live right ? So you'll continue till it kills you. The doors open in front of you, taking you out of your thoughts before you straighten up when people come in. Going down to the right floor, you walked to the room Rindou is usually in with his brother. As you were about to knock when someone stopped you again and this time you didn't take any of it. You knock and open anyway, a blank expression to contain your anger.

Rindou was surprised. He never expected you there and almost never saw you when you were ready to work. You stand out immediately from anyone in this room, black and red outfits flattering your skin. For the first time in his life, he finds you pretty. Your prideful gait and straight face flutter him a bit as you lay his papers on the desk.

"You forgot this," you simply said as you looked him in the eyes, not waiting for anything but a kind of fondness in it. He answered a little thank you, not shutting your gaze and he had to blink a few times before he could. Leaning his gaze on the other men around the table, their looks on you slightly irritate him. Do men usually look at you that way ? He never expected it. Maybe because he never saw you like a woman but mainly like a kid stealing his freedom. You were in fact a beautiful woman, he had to admit it. You nod and turn around to leave and go take care of your own business. Everyone followed you as you stepped back out of the room. Looking at him one last time, you showed the man next to the door.

"And tell your men about me please, the next one who touches me is dead," you add firmly before definitely passing the door without a goodbye. You weren't a kid anymore and Rindou started to realize it only now. Ran looked at his brother's stun reaction as you left, thinking about what must have happened for him to react like this. Looking through the papers, Rindou realized he actually needed it later on for this meeting and should have been more thankful. But that can’t stay on his mind for too long, immediately coming back to work because it needs to be done and resolved by the end of the day or Kokonoi would kill them. He was thankful, but you still weren't that important. A message would be fine.

By the end of the day, as you were still at work, your phone lights up, showing his name on the screen. You opened it, surprised to receive a text from him because it rarely happened during your three years relationship. It was a simple thank you, nothing less or more, but it made you blush like a high-school girl. Making you think that it was really helpful and worth it to stop by before coming here and proceed to go back to work so you could come home soon.

“Say Rindou,” Sanzu doesn’t even have finished his sentence that Rindou wanted to quit it. He doesn’t feel like talking or arguing with him today. His nerves were nothing to play with right now, tiredness showing in his eyes. Last night’s mission was longer than expected and he just wanted to cool down with someone to fill his mind. Forget everything for a while. Glaring at the pink-haired boy, Rindou really wished this would be enough for him to shut up but the only answer he got was a mischievous smile.

“I saw your girl the other day,” the world he used made Rindou hiss. You’re not his girl, you’ve never been and would never be. He despises the fact that Sanzu keeps on calling you like this.

“She’s freaking hot, I don’t understand why you bother to find some girls here and there when you have this at home,” joked the guy while resting on the back of his seat with a smirk.

“Shut up,” spited Rindou, shutting Sanzu’s month only for him to smile, amused.

“If you really don’t want it, at least share-”

“Enough !” screamed Rindou, “stop being fucking horny for a minute and leave her alone.” His strict tone surprised everyone, he never acted like this, maybe because they usually don’t bring you on. It’s been a while since anyone jokes about it, and it was better that way. Knowing that people think of you that way made him angry in a way, he doesn't like the idea. In his mind, you’re still so young so he doesn't understand how anyone could want you or find you attractive. Even if he faced it the other day, his mind still doesn’t want to see you as a grown up woman. But it’s the case, and maybe you’ll change your mind one day because you will understand that him, and this marriage, aren’t worthy to you. He will come back home and you won’t be there - or there will be someone else here with you. Rindou never dared think about it but, this too, makes him kinda angry. He’s just used to you being at his place when he leaves or comes back.

Thinking about it only now, Rindou wonders why he never got to see you in that kind of outfit before. Of course, he leaves before you most of the time and also comes home late, if he ever comes back. He never saw you leaving or coming back from work. You always seem to be at home. He never really cared but that was normal for him to act like this. Even though Rindou was acting weird lately because of that day and now Sanzu’s words.

“If one day she changes her mind, tell her to call me,” jokes Sanzu again, not knowing when to stop.

“She won’t,” answered Rindou quietly, desperate himself.

“You’re so full of yourself,” adds the pink-haired boy, now bored by his answer.

“I’m not, she’s just like this. I want her to change too…” Rindou suddenly seems a bit numb, angriness gone and only his mind even more stuffy. He doesn’t want you to stick him to death like this, he’d love it if you were able to change your mind, but not to go with someone like Sanzu. And as long as you stay at his place. It might seem to be contradictory, but in his unstable life you're the only thing that hasn’t changed in years and maybe he minds it more than he expected. After that, Rindou leaves the place alone without adding anything, leaving some of them annoyed or concerned. Ran doesn’t really get why his brother is now so concerned about you, but he really wanted to talk about it now.

Rindou comes home with someone that night. He never really does that because he knows he can meet you and doesn't want it to happen at all, but in his head it was clear that you’re rarely here on Thursday night. He never sees you anywhere in your shared apartment and so thought it would be okay for once ; he didn’t want to sleep over tonight, too tired for that. It's better to send her home when he’s done than to himself get home later. Everything was calm, nothing could be heard beside their footsteps and that was all he could pray for. As the girl entered the living room, looking around because she never gets to see where he lives even if they saw each other a few times now, she was more than ready to have some fun here. The place is big, tidy and the overall atmosphere is just perfect. She was already loving it.

“I really like your place, you choose all of this ?” she asked, mentioning the decoration and softly letting her hand go on the couch to feel the texture.

“That’s all you care about ?” answer harshly Rindou. Of course it was not him, this whole place is based on your tastes and he knows you have good ones since everyone told him that his place is so well decorated. It made him sick at first, but now he’s just used to it. She wasn’t there to look at the decoration but him and suddenly, he was off. All he could think was you, again. Following her to the living room anyway, being sure that his mind will change again if she shuts up, he notices something unusual. The door or your office was slightly open, a little lamp glowing inside but mostly you leaned on your desk. Your hair was still up in a ponytail and he couldn’t see your face but was sure that you were asleep. Chills drive down his back at the thought of you waking up to him fucking someone else here and his mind quickly get a conclusion. Grabbing the girl’s arm, he pulls her to the door in a rush.

“My wife is here, you have to go.” His tone looks like you didn’t know any of it and that was better that way or else she wouldn't let him alone easily.

“So we’re going somewhere else ?” she asked, sure that he will follow her. “No,” he simply said before pushing her outside.

“Don’t call me,” was the last thing slipping out of his mouth before he closed the door in front of her face. Rindou was confused at his own behavior. He could follow her at her place but it just doesn’t feel right anymore. Leaning his back against the door for a moment, a sigh leaves his lips before heading to your office. As he passed the door to check for real this time, you were certainly sleeping, an open window with a planned meeting for later on the screen. He never comes to your office before but you always seem to get out of there when you greet him when he’s back. Based on all the files that were accumulated here, you probably mainly work from here and that explains why he rarely saw you in the kind of outfit of the last time. Rindou doesn't dare look at your papers, knowing too well that you’ll never look at his, but still lets his gaze go around your desk, observing your workplace. It was like learning things about you and, to his surprise, it wasn't that bad. You look really invested in your work, have a photo of your younger brother on your desk and even a post-it to call your mom regularly. As he looked at all the things you had around your screen, he found one with when he comes home regularly and even important dates of the month, probably so you know when he comes back or not. That was showing that you cared without stepping on his intimacy.

His eyes fell on your sleeping figure, it definitely was bad for your back to sleep like this and he finds himself hoping that it doesn’t happen too often. You weren’t the little girl that wanted to follow him everywhere anymore, too curious about his job even though your dad did the same and teaches you everything you need to know. You learned to stay in your place and were now respected for sure based on your attitude outside this place. Maybe Rindou was wrong. Yet he won’t tell you that. So, before he leaves, he puts your jacket on your bare shoulders so you won’t be cold when you wake up and closes the door behind him to be sure to not wake you up.

“So both Haitani have to go, make sure to find someone to go with you because I don’t want to do it this time,” Koko warns while searching for the next subject of the meeting in his papers. A little chuckle leaves Sanzu’s lips, happy that it's not him but even more ‘cause it’s them. Rindou isn’t a big fan of events like this but if Mikey is asking for them, there must be a reason. Or not, they’re just there and he probably doesn’t want to send Sanzu or he will make a mess. Still fair enough to Rindou to not sigh at the thought. He just has to find someone, but someone was already on his mind. Plus, he understands Koko’s point : last time, they were both awful because they had to go instead of Sanzu and Kakucho and the poor girls had to go through their bad temper, no matter what, the whole night. This time wouldn’t be the same though, and it’s gladly appreciated. Ran likes those, and Rindou never mind coming with his brother when it's already planned like this. Everything must go well as long as no-one is acting like a jerk around them. It rarely happens in that kind of meeting but, there’s always some person for whom it’s the first time and so they can’t behave. Anyway, Rindou was praying not to cross their roads. He has something else to deal with first.

As Rindou was leaving the meeting with his brother when it finally came to an end, the older one offered him a ride home so they could talk about it further. Ran waves at the others while leaving , smiling but finally happy to have some time with his brother. Plus, they were both busy lately and didn’t get to talk to each other a lot, and since he knew something was off, Ran couldn’t wait to be in his car to talk. Walking to where Ran's car was parked, they both sat in silence before driving out of the parking lot. Ran felt like it’s been an eternity since this happened.

“What’s wrong Ran ?” asking Rindou straight away, knowing his brother too well to know that something was on his mind. His eyes were looking through the window, his chin in his hand, waiting for him to talk but he was obviously busy thinking.

“I want to know what’s on your mind lately,” answered the older one, looking at the road. After a short break, Rindou added a little “nothing” that could never convince his brother and he knew it. Ran sighs before shaking his head a little. Why was he always like this ?

“You can talk to me you know, we’ve been together for life,” he assures, looking sideways at him but he wasn’t moving. “You’re just weird lately and I’m worried. Is it because of Sanzu’s joke the other day ?”

Rindou clenches his jaw at the memories. Simply imagining it makes him want to kill him, and that fact shows how much he changes already. Acknowledging you was something that shakes him deep down, and he doesn't want anyone to joke about it anymore.

“Or is it just about her ?” adds Ran carefully after watching his reaction. His intuition was right, that time when you came to their office really did something to him, as if it was the first time he really saw you. Rindou knew it was impossible to hide it from his brother and sigh before leaning on the back of his seat.

“Just her,” he whispers, like it was a crime to say it out loud. Doing that made it real, and it was still hard for him to admit it. That you were on his mind, that he was kinda worried for you now, sometimes. He hopes you had enough sleep after your late meeting, that no one is bothering you anymore and even asks himself if you remember to eat since you work alone most of the time. It feels stupid and ridiculous, he never did that for anyone and he never thought he will for you but there he was, thinking about sending you a message at 2pm to asks if you’ve eat today when he almost never texted you.

“I feel like a child,” started the youngest, covering his eyes. Ran hum in response, encouraging him to go on. “She’s been on my mind a lot, I started to feel bad being like this with her. She always did a lot for me without me realizing it.” He cuts himself to breathe. Acknowledging that he was wrong seems harder than any mission he ever faced and Ran was ready to wait and listen to him like he always did.

“She’s not a kid anymore,” Rindou finally said but those words were cutting deep in his throat. He probably was the only one to not see it yet, too blinded by the view he had of you, of the child who cuts his freedom and who would always be useless to him because you were too young and immature.

“Better late than never,” answered his brother with a bit of sarcasm. No need to say that it wasn’t welcomed by the youngest who sent daggers at him. “I’m kidding,” chuckles Ran, “What are you gonna do now ? Accepting your marriage ? Considering her as your wife for real this time ?”

“I don’t know, I’m still thinking about it. But I stopped seeing other girls and she was the first one that came to my mind when Koko said we have to come with someone,” admit the youngest. A small and prideful smile appears on Ran's lips at his words. Rindou always blamed you for not being mature enough, but with time, he was the immature one in this relationship and he was ready to go on and face it. Finally.

“So you will ask her ?” Ran couldn’t contain his happiness, he always finds you cute in fact, and thinks that you suit Rindou pretty well in the end.

“Don’t be so happy about it,” pouted Rindou but still nods at his brother’s words. Yes, he will, even if he was anticipating your reaction.

Rindou tried to act normal as he came back home but his hands were sweaty. He stressed about it more than he thought. He rarely talked to you, besides arguing, and it feels weird to suddenly ask you to come with him at a big meeting as his date. Maybe he should apologize first. Thinking too hard about it, he doesn’t realize that he was now in front of your office door and, after a deep breath, he takes his courage with both hands and knocks.

The sudden noise makes you flinch. No one ever knocked on your door here and, for a second, you forget how to respond to that. You regain yourself fast and get up with a little “coming” before opening the door. There was Rindou, freshly coming back from work but without that annoyed expression he always has. Questioning yourself, you tilt your head to the side, not knowing if you should be the one speaking first or letting him since he was the one - kinda - asking for you.

“Do you need something ?” Yes, you talk first by reflex in the end, even if it never ends well. But for some reason, Rindou standing oddly calm in front of you made you feel calm too ? It never happened yet, he was always aggressive around you. Agreeing to your words, he was now searching for his words or how to say it and you never thought you'd be blessed enough to see Rindou like this. awkwardness showing in his attitude and looking away with a frown that didn’t seem hard at all. You wanted to chuckle, but kept your mouth shut and instead smiled politely.

“Just tell me, don't be ashamed,” you added sweetly. Rindou sighs, realizing he was probably ridiculous, he just decided to ask right away.

“I have an important meeting in a few weeks and I wanted to know if you could be my date for the night,” he said quickly, and if you weren’t used to your co-worker speaking so fast you probably wouldn’t have understood a single word. But you did and your cheeks grew hot immediately. You were touched by his offer for sure, but at the same time couldn’t believe it. Rindou never wanted you around him, to hear about you and was angry to get here because that means seeing you, why was he asking you this now ? He clearly saw the misunderstanding in your eyes and decided to speak up.

“I was the childish one in the end, but I want to make it up to you. That doesn’t mean that we’ll be a happy couple tomorrow,” he warns you. “But I’m ready to try to know you better…”

Your heart flutters at his words. It felt like you’ve waited all your life to hear those words. Your hand that was left on the door to keep it open falls slowly as your brain processes them and a lot of things come to your mind.

You didn't even think of nodding in agreement but were already retracing your schedules in your head to be sure you were free. Rindou was waiting for your answer, worried to the bone. You didn’t know, but you were so serious that he was sure you’ll smack the door at him soon because it was way too easy to come to you like this. Instead, you signal him to come inside with you so you can check the date and secure it for him.

“You’re okay with it ?” he asked, confused. Sitting at your desk, you looked at him surprised. “Of course I am, you’re asking so why would I say no ?” It was your first wife's duty, and you were more than glad to accept it. Even more since he was the one asking. So with a smile, you show him to come to you once again so you two can check together.

Rindou looked at you in disbelief, you sure were weird. He still doesn’t get you, and he doesn't really know if he will one day. But he will surely try from now on.

It took me some times, I’m sorry. I was, at first, in an exam period, but since I’m positive to covid I use that time to write and rest

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyorev x reader #haitani rindou imagines #haitani rindou x reader #rindou fluff #rindou x reader #rindou haitani

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delicrieux · 4 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

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arcanestage · 3 years

Text

THE MORNING AFTER

characters ⤏ Yami / Nozel / Fuegoleon / William x F!reader

a/n ⤏ i’d just like to thank the ppl who read the stuff i put out you guys are the GOATS and it really warms my heart to see people actually enjoy them 🥺 anyway i hope u guys like this one!!!（＾∇＾）

warnings ⤏ suggestive content

Yami

If there was any other person who was a more sound sleeper than you, it would be Yami. You woke up feeling something, or rather someone heavy crushing you under. Apparently he was using you like a bolster pillow.

“Babe... can you... MOVE?” you said as you tried to push him to his side of the bed. Luckily he listened and rolled over to lay on his back. You laid on his bare muscular chest just cuddling him while he sleeps. Nothing beats after sex cuddles!

“Y/N...” Yami suddenly mumbled

“What?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled before snoring again.

You rolled your eyes then poked his cheek. “Hey, I’ll just get breakfast.”

To which he responded with a weak wave of his hand.

You quickly dressed up and padded towards the kitchen. No one was up yet so you decided to make breakfast for just the two of you, making a mental note to also cook food for the others later. You headed back to your shared room with a tray of food in your hands. Yami was sitting at the edge of the bed stretching his arms.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” you said as you placed the tray on the table

“Good morning babe. You cooked breakfast for me? How sweet,” he teased

“Get your ass over here or else I’ll finish the bacon on my own,”

He sat down in front of you and started stuffing a forkful of food in his mouth.

“Babe this tastes amazing but of course nothing can taste as amazing as you.” he smirked.

You were used to his antics but you still rolled your eyes. “Judging by how you mauled my neck last night, I’d say you did enjoy your time with me,” you said while pointing to numerous red marks on your neck.

He chuckled. “Sorry babe, couldn’t help it. Looks good on you though.”

“Yeah okay, I’ll be having fun walking around in a turtleneck in this scorching heat.” you said sarcastically

“You’re worried about that? Have you seen what you did to my back?! Do you grow claws at night?!”

You just hummed in response. “Guess that makes us even,”

You loved mornings like this with your man. Just you and him talking about anything and everything over breakfast.

“What’s your agenda for today?” you asked after taking the last bite of food

He scratched his head. “Do captain stuff I guess,”

“I have no idea what that means but come cuddle with me before doing your captain stuff,”

You stood up and pulled him by the arm

“What a spoiled brat you are,” he grinned and lightly flicked your forehead

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the soft beating of his heart. It always lulled you to sleep.

You heard Yami say “I love you Y/N forever and always” before drifting off into deep slumber.

Nozel

You were awakened by the sudden movement of the bed and a gentle kiss on your forehead. You groggily opened one eye to peek at Nozel only to find him already getting up from bed. You pouted and reached out to touch his arm.

“How are you up this early? Get back in here and sleep more,” you mumbled sleepily

He chuckled. “And you need to learn to wake up as early as me.” He stood up and pulled your arm in an attempt to have you sit up. But you were as limp as a ragdoll.

“Will you stop being stubborn?” Nozel continued to pull you up. You countered his force by being dead weight.

“But I want to sleep moreeee,” you whined

“I refuse to do all my morning rituals without you, now get up Y/N.”

You groaned. “Fine, fine.”

You sat up and rubbed your eyes. You noticed Nozel staring at your chest. You quickly pulled the blanket up to your chin.

“Stop staring at my chest!” you were red as a tomato.

He chuckled. God, when did this man ever become this cheeky?

“You are so self-conscious Y/N. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Your face got even redder. “W-whatever,”

You tried to stand up with the blanket covering your chest up to your hips. You felt a pang of ache in your legs that you almost lost balance. You tried to walk but movement only intensified the soreness you were feeling. You were groaning at every step.

Nozel took notice of this and frowned. “Was I too rough last night?”

“N-not really,” you tried to stretch.

“But you did twist me in the weirdest positions so that’s most likely the source of my body ache,” you blushed yet again

It always amused Nozel how flustered you easily get even though you’ve had sex way too many times.

You yelped when Nozel suddenly carried you bridal style.

“Let’s soak in a hot bath together. It’ll soothe the tension in your muscles.”

You grinned. “I’d like that!”

Nozel chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

Fuegoleon

Fuegoleon woke up to you resting on his bare chest. He smiled at your peaceful state. He kissed the top of your head while rubbing circles on your bate shoulder. He didn’t want to disrupt your peaceful slumber. However he needed to go to work today which bummed him out bigtime. He wanted to have a lazy day with you which would have to be postponed to a later date.

“Y/N...” he whispered. “I’m gonna have to get up now and take a shower. As much as I want to lounge all day with you, I must attend to my duties as captain and a magic knight.”

You stirred then sat up slowly.

“Okay... I want to shower with you, if that’s alright.” you mumbled

Fuegoleon smirked. “Can’t get enough of me?”

“Admittedly, yes. Plus it’s a nice way to bond in the morning since you know... we’re already both naked,” you smiled sheepishly

He chuckled and walked towards the bathroom.

You turned the shower on and started scrubbing his back. You also gave his shoulders a quick massage which earned a satisfied moan from Fuegoleon.

“Ahh, you really give the best back massage.”

You laughed. “I’ll give you a proper one later when you return from work,”

“I’ll be looking forward to that,”

He squeezed a generous amount of shampoo on his palm and lathered it on your hair.

“Your shampoo smells good Y/N,”

You smirked. “I know. I sometimes smell its watermelon scent on your hair too~” you turned around and pinched his cheek.

He blushed. “Okay you got me,”

After getting out of the shower you both dressed up for the day. You offered to brush Fuegoleon’s hair to which he gladly accepted.

“I know work has been stressful lately. I can tell by tension in your muscles a while ago,”

“Ah you know me too well Y/N. I can never hide anything from you,”

From his back, you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I’ll cook your favorite meal for dinner then I’ll give you a nice back massage like I promised. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” he smiled. “But I do believe we have some unfinished business hm?” he said as he slowly grazed your arm with his finger tips.

“I was tired, I’m sorry.” you pouted

He chuckled. “No worries, you can make up to me later.”

In context, he wanted to go for a 2nd round last night but sadly, you fell asleep on him.

“You need to go now Fuego, I don’t want you late for work.”

“Won’t you go have breakfast with me first?” he pleaded with his matching puppy dog eyes.

You waved your hand in front of his face. “Okay fine, just stop making that face!”

He chuckled as you walked to the dining room hand in hand.

William

William was an early riser. He got up from bed careful not to wake you up. After dressing up, he walked towards his office to grab some files and then to the kitchen to grab some food. You haven’t stirred from your sleep when he returned. He sat by the side of his bed, his head resting on the headboard while a stack of papers sat on his lap. He gently stroked your hair before working.

Usually after sex, he would stay in bed and wait for you to wake up. Today however work had been awfully demanding and heavy in terms load. He didn’t want to leave you alone so he decided to do this work in bed beside your sleeping figure.

You slowly awakened and rolled over to face him.

“Oh you’re up early,” your raspy voice filling in the silence of the room.

“Good morning love. Sorry about that, paperwork has been piling up and these need to be checked as soon as possible,” he stroked your hair

“No worries, I totally understand. Although, you can just work in your office. I’ll be fine here William,”

He chuckled. “It’s alright, I choose to be here with you,”

You blushed. “O-oh?”

“Yes, I would like to keep an eye on you just in case you needed anything. Does anything hurt now?”

“Hmm...” You wiggled your arms then your legs. “No, everything seems to be fine.”

“No headache?”

“None as well.”

He continued questioning you like he was a doctor tending to his patient.

You giggled at your worry wart of a boyfriend. “I’m fine all over William. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Alright love, I was just making sure.” he smiled warmly at you. He took your hand and kissed it softly.

“I grabbed some breakfast for you by the way.” he pointed to the small tray on the nightstand beside you.

You sat up and moved the tray on your lap. You started slapping some butter and jam on the bread and handed it to William who declined your offer.

“Come on William. You need to eat too. How are you gonna last a whole day of paperworks without sustenance?”

He sighed in defeat and took the bread from your hand. “You’re right Y/N. I’m sorry, work is just stressing me out lately.”

“Well, I hope you I was able to help you destress last night.”

He kissed the top of your head. “You did, you really did.”

#im so lazy to tag but here goes #yami x reader #yami sukehiro x reader #nozel x reader #nozel silva x reader #fuegoleon x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #william vangeance x reader #black clover fanfiction #black clover scenarios #black clover imagines #black clover x reader #yami sukehiro #nozel silva #fuegoleon vermillion #william vangeance #black clover

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ahtsumu · 4 years

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

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